#
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY 
 
 AT URBANACHAMPAIGN 
 
 STACKS
 
 2/^-/ 
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAE 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MM. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. G. LINN^US BANKS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 " god's providence house," 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1876. 
 
 All rigid $ reserved
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED IIY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL» 
 BLENHEIM HOUSE.
 
 Y.l 
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 f 
 
 CHAPTER I.* 
 
 ^ THE FLOOD. 
 
 TTTHEN Pliny lost his life, and Hercu- 
 ^ ' * laneum was buried, Manchester was 
 p born. Whilst lava and ashes blotted from 
 
 sight and memory fair and luxurious 
 
 Eoman cities close to the capital, the 
 
 u Eoman soldiery of Titus, under their 
 
 . ^ general Agricola, laid the foundations of a 
 
 ^ distant city which now competes with the 
 
 r^ great cities of the world. Where now 
 
 cerise forests of tall chimneys, and the hum 
 
 ^of whirling spindles, spread the dense 
 
 woods of Arden, and from the clearing in 
 ^ their midst rose the Eoman castrum of 
 
 * See Appendix A. 
 VOL. I. B
 
 a THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Mamutium,* wliicli has left its name of 
 Castle Field as a memorial to us. But 
 where their summer camp is said to have 
 been pitched on the airy rock at the con- 
 fluence of the rivers Irk and Irwell, sacred 
 church and peaceful college have stood for 
 centuries, and only antiquaries can point 
 to Eoman possession, or even to the 
 baronial hall which the Saxon lord perched 
 there for security. 
 
 And only an antiquary or a very old 
 inhabitant can recall Manchester as it 
 was at the close of the last century, and 
 shutting his eyes upon railway arch, 
 station, and esplanade, upon Palatine 
 buildings, broad roadways, and river em- 
 bankments, can see the Irk and the Irwell 
 as they were when the Cathedral was the 
 Collegiate Church, with a diminutive brick 
 wall round its ancient graveyard. Then 
 the irregular-fronted rows of quaint old 
 houses which still, under the name of Half 
 
 * Prior to the close of the Fourteenth Century, Manches- 
 ter was written Mamecester.
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 6 
 
 Street, crowd upon two sides of the 
 clinrcliyard, with only an intervening strip 
 of a flagged walk between, closed it up on 
 a third side, and shut the river (lying low 
 beneath) from the view with a huddled 
 mass of still older dwellings, some of which 
 were thrust out of sight, and were only to 
 be reached by flights of break-neck steps of 
 rock or stone, and like their hoary fellows 
 creeping down the narrow roadway of 
 Hunt's Bank, overhung the Irwell and 
 threatened to topple into it some day. 
 
 The Chetham Hospital or College still 
 looks solidly down on the Irk at the angle 
 of the streams ; the old Grammar School 
 has been suffered to do the same ; and — 
 thanks to the honest workmen who built for 
 ©ur ancestors — the long lines of houses 
 known as Long Millgate are for the most 
 part standing, and on the river side have 
 resisted the frequent floods of centuries. 
 
 In 1799 that line was almost unbroken, 
 from the College (where it commenced at 
 
 b2
 
 4 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Hunt's Bank Bridge) to Red Bank. The 
 little alley by the Town Mill, called Mill- 
 brow, which led down to the wooden Mill- 
 Bridge, was little more of a gap than those 
 narrow entries or passages which pierced 
 the walls like slits here and there, and 
 offered dark and perilous passage to courts 
 and alleys, trending in steep incline to the 
 very bed of the Irk. The houses them- 
 selves had been good originally, and were 
 thus cramped together for defence in 
 perilous times, when experience taught 
 that a narrow gorge was easier held against 
 warlike odds than an open roadway. 
 
 Ducie Bridge had then no existence, but 
 Tanners' Bridge — no doubt a strong 
 wooden structure like that at Mill-brow — 
 accessible from the street only by one of 
 those narrow steep passages, stood within 
 a few yards of its site, and had a place on 
 old maps so far back as 1650. Its name 
 is expressive, and goes to prove that the 
 tannery on the steep banks of the Irk,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 5 
 
 behind tlie houses of Long Millgate oppo- 
 site to the end of Miller's Lane, was a 
 tannery at least a century and a half 
 before old Simon Clegg worked amongst 
 the tan-pits, and called William Clough 
 master. 
 
 To this sinuous and picturesque line of 
 houses, the streams with their rocky and 
 precipitous banks will have served in olden 
 times as a natural defensive moat (indeed, 
 it is noticeable that old Manchester kept 
 pretty much within the angle of its rivers), 
 and in 1799 from one end of Millgate to 
 the other the dwellers by the waterside 
 looked across the stream on green and un- 
 dulating uplands, intersected by luxuriant 
 hedgerows, a bleachery at "Walker's Croft, 
 and a short terrace of houses near Scotland 
 Bridge, denominated Scotland, being the 
 sole breaks in the verdure. 
 
 Between the tannery and Scotland Bridge 
 the river makes a sharp bend, and here, at 
 the elbow, another mill with its correspond-
 
 6 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 iug dam was situated. The cuiTent of the 
 Irk, if not deep, is strong at all times, though 
 kept by its high banks within narrow 
 compass. But when, as is not unseldom 
 the case, there is a sudden flushing of 
 water from the hill-country, it rises, rises, 
 rises, stealthily though swiftly, till the 
 stream overtops its banks, washes over 
 low-lying bleach-crofts, fields, and gardens, 
 mounts foot by foot over the fertile slopes, 
 invades the houses, and, like a mountain- 
 robber sweeping from his fastness on a 
 peaceful vale, carries his spoil with him, 
 and leaves desolation and wailing behind. 
 
 Such a flood as this following a heavy 
 thunder-storm devastated the valley of the 
 Irk on the 17th of August, 1799. 
 
 Well was it then for the tannery and 
 those houses on the bank of the Irk which 
 had their foundations in the solid rock, for 
 the waters surged and roared at their base 
 and over pleasant meadows — a wide-spread 
 turbulent sea, with here and there an
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 7 
 
 island of refuge, wliicli the day before liad 
 been a lofty mound. 
 
 Tlie flood of tlie previous Autumn, 
 wlien a coacb and horses had been swept 
 down the Irwell, and men and women 
 were drowned, was as nothing to this. The 
 tannery yard, high as it was above the bed 
 of the Irk, and solid as was its embank- 
 ment, was threatened with invasion. The 
 surging water roared and beat against 
 its masonry, and licked its coping with 
 frothy tongue and lip, like a hungry giant 
 greedy for fresh food. Men with thick 
 clogs and hide-bound legs, leathern gloves 
 and aprons, were hurrying to and fro with 
 barrows and bark-boxes, for the reception 
 of the valuable hides which their mates, 
 armed with long-shafted hooks and tongs, 
 were dragging from the pits pell-mell, ere 
 the advancing waters should encroach upon 
 their territory, and empty the tan-pits for 
 them. 
 
 Already the insatiate flood bore testimony
 
 8 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 to its ruthless greed. Hanks of yarn, 
 •pieces of calico, liay, nptorn buslies, planks, 
 chairs, boxes, dog-kennels, and hen-coops, 
 a shattered chest of drawers, pots and pans, 
 had swept past, swirling and eddying in 
 the flood, which by this time spread like a 
 vast lake over the opposite lands, and had 
 risen within three feet of the arch of 
 Scotland Bridge, and hardly left a trace 
 where the mill-dam chafed it commonly. 
 
 Too busy were the tanners, under the 
 eye of their master, to stretch out hand or 
 hook to arrest the progress of either furni- 
 ture or live-stock, though bee-hives and 
 hen-coops, and more than one squealing 
 pig, went racing with the current, now 
 rising towards the footway of Tanners' 
 Bridge. 
 
 Every window of every house upon the 
 banks was crowded with anxious heads, 
 for flooded Scotland rose like an island 
 from the watery waste, and their own 
 cellars were fast filling. There had
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. V 
 
 been voices calling to each otlier from 
 window to window all the morning; but 
 now from window to window, from house 
 to house, rang one reduplicated shriek, 
 which caused many of the busy tanners to 
 quit their work, and rush to the water's 
 edge. To their horror, a painted wooden 
 cradle, which had crossed the deeply-sub- 
 merged dam in safety, was floating foot- 
 foremost down to destruction, with an 
 infant calmly sleeping in its bed, the very 
 motion of the waters having seemingly 
 lulled it to sounder repose ! 
 
 " Good Lord ! It's a choilt !" exclaimed 
 Simon Clegg, the eldest tanner in the yard. 
 "Lend a hand here, fur the sake o' th' 
 childer atwhoam." 
 
 Half a dozen hooks and plungers were 
 outstretched, even while he spoke ; but 
 the longest was lamentably too short to 
 arrest the approaching cradle in its course, 
 and the unconscious babe seemed doomed. 
 With frantic haste Simon Clegg rushed on
 
 10 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 to Tanners' Bridge, followed bj a boy ; 
 and tliere, with hook and plunger, they met 
 the cradle as it drifted towards them, afraid 
 of over-balancing it even in their attempt 
 to save. It swerved, and almost upset; 
 but Simon dexterously caught his hook 
 within the wooden hood, and drew the frail 
 bark and its living freight close to the 
 bridge. The boy, and a man named Cooper, 
 lying flat on the bridge, then clutched at 
 it with extended hands, raised it carefully 
 from the turbid water, and drew it safely 
 between the open rails to the footway, 
 amidst the shouts and hurrahs of breath- 
 less and excited spectators. 
 
 The babe was screaming terribly. The 
 shock when the first hook stopped the pro- 
 gress of the cradle had disturbed its 
 dreams, and its little fat arms were stretch- 
 ed out piteously as strange faces looked 
 down upon it instead of the mothers 
 familiar countenance. Wrapping the patch- 
 work quilt around it, to keep it from con-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 11 
 
 tact with his wet sleeves and apron, Simon 
 tenderly as a woman lifted the infant in his 
 rough arms, and strove to comfort it, but 
 in vain. His beard of three days' growth 
 was as a rasp to its soft skin, and the 
 closer he caressed, the more it screamed. 
 The men from the tannery came crowding 
 round him. 
 
 " What dostta mean to do wi' th' babby ?'* 
 asked the man Cooper of old Simon. 
 " Aw'd tak' it whoam to my missis, but th' 
 owd lass is nowt to be takken to, an' wur 
 cross as two sticks when oi only axed fur 
 mi baggin to bring to wark wi' mi this 
 mornin'," added he, with rueful remem- 
 brance of the scolding wife on his hearth. 
 
 "Neay, lad, aw'll not trust th' poor 
 choilt to thy Sally. It 'ud be loike chuckin' 
 it out o' th' wayter into th' fire (Hush-a-by, 
 babby). Aw'll just tak' it to ar Bess, and 
 hoo'll cuddle it up, and gi' it summut to 
 sup, till we find its own mammy," answered 
 Simon, leaving the bridge. ''Bring the
 
 12 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 kaytlier* alung, Jack" — to the boy — 
 '^ Bess'll want it. We'n noan o' that tackle 
 at ar ]3lace. Hush-a-bj, liush-a-by, babby." 
 
 But the little thing, missing its natural 
 protector, and half stifled in the swathing 
 quilt, only screamed the louder ; and 
 Simon, notwithstanding his kind heart, 
 was truly glad when his daughter Bess, 
 who had witnessed the rescue from their 
 own window, met him at the tannery gate, 
 and relieved him of his struggling charge. 
 
 '' Si thi, Bess, here's a God-send fur thi 
 — a poor little babby fur thi to tend an be 
 koind to, till them it belungs to come 
 a-seekin' fur it," said he to the young 
 woman ; '' but thah mun give it summat 
 better than cowd wayter — it's had too 
 mich o' that a'ready." 
 
 " That aw will, poor darlin' !" responded 
 she, kissing the babe's velvet cheeks as, 
 sensible of a change of nurses, it nestled 
 to her breast. '' Eh ! but there'll be sore 
 
 * Cradle.
 
 THE MANCEESTEE MAN. 18 
 
 hearts for this blessed babby somewlieere." 
 And she turned up the narrow passage 
 which led at once from the tan-yard and 
 the bridge, stilling and soothing the little 
 castaway as adroitly as an experienced 
 nurse. 
 
 '* Now, luk thi, lad," Simon remarked to 
 Cooper, "is na it fair wonderful heaw that 
 babby taks to ar Bess ? But it's just a 
 way hoo has, an' theere is na a fractious 
 choilt i' a' ar yard but'll be quiet wi' Bess." 
 
 Cooper looked after her, nodded an 
 assent, and sighed, as if he wished some 
 one in another yard had the same soothing 
 way with her. 
 
 But the voice of the raging water had 
 not stilled like that of the rescued infant. 
 Back went the two men to their task, and 
 worked away with a will to carry hides, 
 bark, and implements to places of security. 
 And as they hurried to and fro with loads 
 on back or barrow, up, up, inch by inch, 
 foot by foot, the swelling flood rose still
 
 14 THE :\[ANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 higher, till, lapping the foot-bridge, curl- 
 ing over the embankment, it drove the 
 sturdy tanners back, flung itself into the 
 pits, and, in many a swirling eddy, washed 
 tan and hair and skins into the common 
 current. 
 
 Not so much, however, went into its 
 seething caldron as might have been, had 
 the men worked with less vigour ; and, 
 quick to recognise the value of ready 
 service, Mr. Clough led his drenched and 
 weary workmen to the '' Skinners' Arms," 
 in Long Millgate, and ordered a supply of 
 ale and bread and cheese to be served out 
 to them. 
 
 At the door of the public-house, where 
 he left the workmen to the enjoyment of 
 this impromptu feast, he encountered Simon 
 Clegg. The kind fellow had taken a 
 hasty run to his own tenement, ^'just to 
 see heaw ar Bess an' th' babby get on " ; 
 and he brought back the intelligence that 
 it was ''a lad, an' as good as goold."
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 15 
 
 "Oil, my man, IVe been too much 
 occupied to speak to you before," cried 
 Mr. Clougli. '' I saw you foremost in tlie 
 rescue of that unfortunate infant, and 
 shall not forget it. Here is a crown for 
 your share in the good deed. I suppose 
 that was the child's mother you gave it 
 to?" 
 
 Simon was a little man, but he drew 
 back with cousiderable native dignity. 
 
 " Thenk yo', measter, all th' same, but aw 
 connot tak' brass fur just doin' mi duty. 
 Aw'd never ha slept i' mi bed gin that little 
 un had bin dreawnded, an' me lookin' on 
 loike a stump. Neay ; that lass wur Bess, 
 moi wench. We'n no notion wheer th' 
 lad's mother is." 
 
 Mr. Clough would have pressed the 
 money upon him, but he put it back with 
 a motion of his hand. 
 
 '' No, sir, aw'm a poor mon, a varry poor 
 mon, but aw connot tak' money fur savin' 
 a choilt's life. It's agen' mi conscience.
 
 16 THE ]\[ANCHESTErv MAN. 
 
 I'll tak' mi share o' the bread an' cheese, 
 an* drink yo r heealth i' a sup o' ale, but aw 
 cudna' tak' that brass if aw wur deein'." 
 
 And Simon, giving a scrape with his 
 clog, and a duck of his head, meant for a 
 bow, passed his master respectfully, and 
 went clattering up the steps of the '^ Skin- 
 ners' Arms," leaving the gentleman stand- 
 ing there and looking after him in mingled 
 astonishment and admiration.
 
 17 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 KO ONE KNOWS. 
 
 TTTHEN tlie scurrying water, thick with 
 ' * sand and mud, and discoloured 
 with dye-stuffs, which floated in brightly- 
 tinted patches on its surface, filled the arch 
 of Scotland Bridge, and left only the rails 
 of Tanners' Bridge visible, the inundation 
 reached its climax; but a couple of days 
 elapsed before the flood subsided below the 
 level of the unprotected tannery-yard, and 
 until then neither Simon Clegg nor his 
 [mates could resume their occupations. 
 
 There was a good deal of lounging 
 about Long Millgate and the doors of the 
 ''Queen Anne" and " Skinners' Arms," of 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 heavily sbod men, in rough, garniture of 
 thick hide — armoury against the tan and 
 water in which their daily bread was 
 steeped. 
 
 But in all those two days no anxious 
 father, no white-faced mother, had run 
 from street to street, and house to house, 
 to seek and claim a rescued living child. 
 No, not even when the week had passed, 
 though the story of his '^miraculous pre- 
 servation" was the theme of conversation 
 at the tea-tables of gentility and in the 
 bar-parlours of taverns ; was the gossip oJ 
 courts and alleys, highways and byways ; 
 and though echo, in the guise of a " flying 
 stationer," caught it up and spread i1 
 broadcast in catchpenny sheets, far beyond 
 the confines of the inundation. 
 
 This was the more surprising as no deac 
 bodies had been washed down the river 
 and no lives were reported 'lost." Hac 
 the child no one to care for it ? — no rela 
 tive to whom its little life was precious 1
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 19 
 
 Had it been abandoned to its fate, a waif 
 unloved, uncared for ? 
 
 The liouse in whicli Simon Olegg lived 
 was situated at tlie very end of Skinners' 
 Yard, a cul-de-sac, to whicli tlie only ap- 
 proach was a dark covered entry, not four 
 feet wide. The pavement of the yard was 
 natural rock, originally hewn into broad 
 flat steps, but then worn with water from 
 the skies, and from house-wifely pails, and 
 the tramp of countless clogs, to a rugged 
 steep incline, asking wary stepping from 
 the stranger on exploration after night-f alh 
 Gas was of course unknown, but not even 
 an oil-lamp lit up the gloom. 
 
 In the sunken basement a tripe-boiler 
 had a number of stone troughs or cisterns, 
 for keeping his commodities cool for sale. 
 The three rooms of Simon Clegg were 
 situated immediately above these, two 
 small bed-rooms overlooking the river and 
 pleasant green fields beyond; the wide 
 kitchen window having no broader range 
 
 c2
 
 20 THE MANCHESTEE MAK. 
 
 of prospect than the dreary and not too 
 savoury yard. Even this view was shut 
 out by a batting frame, resembling much 
 a long, narrow French bedstead, all the 
 more that on it was laid a thick bed of raw 
 (that is, undressed) cotton, freckled with 
 seeds and fine bits of husky pod. Bess 
 was a batter, and her business was to turn 
 and beat the clotted mass with stout lithe 
 arms and willow-wands, until the fibres 
 loosened, the seeds and specks fell through, 
 and a billowy mass of whitish down lay 
 before her. It was not a healthy occupa- 
 tion : dust and flue released found their 
 way into the lungs, as well as on to the floor 
 and furniture ; and a rosy-cheeked batter 
 was a myth. Machinery does the work 
 now — but this history deals with then ! 
 
 During the week dust lay thick on every- 
 thing; even Bessy's hair was fluffy as a 
 bursting cotton-pod, in spite of the ker- 
 chief tied across it ; but on the Saturday, 
 when she had carried her work to Simp-
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 21 
 
 son's factory in Millers Lane, and came 
 back with her wages, broom and duster 
 cleared away the film; wax and brush 
 polished up the oak bureau, the pride and 
 glory of their kitchen ; the two slim iron 
 candlesticks, fender, and poker were burn- 
 ished bright as steel; the three-legged 
 round deal table was scrubbed white ; and 
 then, mounted on tall pattens, she set about 
 with mop and pail, and a long- handled 
 stone, to cleanse the flag floor from the 
 week's impurities. 
 
 She had had a good mother, and, to 
 the best of her ability, Bess tried to follow 
 in her footsteps, and fill the vacant place 
 on her father's hearth, and in his heart. 
 Her mother had been dead four years, and 
 Bess, now close upon twenty, had since 
 then lost two brothers, and lamented as 
 lost one dearer than a brother — the two 
 former by death, the other by the fierce 
 demands of war. She had a pale, interest- 
 in o- face, with dark hair and thoughtful,
 
 22 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 deep grey eyes, and was, if anything, too 
 quiet and staid for her years; but when 
 her face lit up she had as pleasant a smile 
 upon it as one would wish to see by one's 
 fireside, and not even her dialect could 
 make her voice otherwise than low and 
 gentle. 
 
 Both her brothers had been considerably 
 younger than herself; and possibly the 
 fact of having stood in loco parentis to them 
 for upwards of two years had imparted tc 
 her the air of motherliness she possessed, 
 Certain it is that if a child in the yarc 
 scalded itself, or cut a finger, or knockec 
 the bark off an angular limb, it went cryine 
 to Bessy CI egg in preference to its owr 
 mother ; and she healed bruises and quar 
 rels with the same balsam — loving sym 
 pathy. She was just the one to open hei 
 arms and heart to a poor motherless babe 
 and Simon Clegg knew it. 
 
 Old Simon, or old Clegg, he was called 
 probably because he was graver and mon
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 23 
 
 serious than his fellows, and had never 
 changed his master since he grew to man- 
 hood : certainly not on account of his age, 
 which trembled on the verge of fifty only. 
 He was a short, somewhat spare man, with 
 a face deeply lined by sorrow for the loved 
 ones he had lost. But he had a merry 
 twinkling eye, and was not without a 
 latent vein of humour. The atmosphere 
 of the tannery might have shrivelled his 
 skin, but it had not withered his heart; 
 and when he handed the child he had saved 
 to his daughter, he never stopped to calcu- 
 late contingencies. 
 
 The boy, apparently between two and 
 three months old, was dressed in a long 
 gown of printed linen, had a muslin cap, 
 and an under one of flannel, all neatly 
 made, but neither in make nor material 
 beyond those of a respectable working- 
 man's child ; and there was not a mark 
 upon anything which could give a clue to 
 its parentage.
 
 24 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 The painted wooden cradle, Tvliicli liad 
 been to it an ark of safety, was placed in a 
 corner hj the fireplace ; and an old bottle, 
 filled with thin gruel, over the neck of 
 which Bess had tied a loose cap of punc- 
 tured wash-leather, was so adjusted that 
 the little one, deprived of its mother, could 
 lie within and feed itself whilst Bess her- 
 self industriously pursued her avocations. 
 
 These were not times for idleness. There 
 had been bread-riots the previous Winter ; 
 food still was at famine prices ; and it was 
 all a poor man could do, with the strictest 
 industry and economy, to obtain a bare 
 subsistence. So Bess worked away all the 
 harder, because there were times when 
 babydom was imperative, and would be 
 nursed. 
 
 She had put the last garnishing touches 
 to her kitchen on Saturday night, had 
 taken off her wrapper-brat,* put on a clean 
 blue bedgown,f and substituted a white 
 
 * A sort of close pinafore, f A short loose jacket.
 
 THE MAXCHESTER MAN. 25 
 
 linen cap for the coloured kerchief, when 
 her father, who had been to New Cross 
 Market to make his bargains by himself 
 on this occasion, came into the kitchen, 
 followed by Cooper, who, having helped to 
 save the child, naturally felt an interest in 
 him. 
 
 The iron porridge-pot was on the low 
 fire, and Bess, sifting the oatmeal into the 
 boiling water with the left hand, whilst 
 with the other she beat it swiftly with her 
 porridge- stick, was so intent on the prepa- 
 ration of their supper, she did not notice 
 their entrance until her father, putting his 
 coarse wicker market-basket down on her 
 white table, bade Cooper " Coom in an' tak' 
 a cheer." 
 
 Instead of taking a chair, the man 
 walked as quietly as his clogs would let 
 him to the cradle, and looked down on the 
 infant sucking vigorously at the delusive 
 bottle. Mat Cooper was the e^?ihappy 
 father of eight, whose maintenance was a
 
 26 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 sore perplexity to him ; and it may be sup- 
 posed lie spoke witli authority when he 
 exclaimed — 
 
 *' AYhoy, he tak's t' th' pap-bottle as nat- 
 'rally as if he'n ne'er had nowt else !" 
 
 And the big man — quite a contrast to 
 Simon — stooped and lifted the babe from 
 the cradle with all the ease of long prac- 
 tice, and dandled it in his arms, saying as 
 he did so, 
 
 " Let's hev a look at th' little chap. 
 Aw've not seen the colour o' his eyen 
 yet." 
 
 The eyes were grey, so dark they might 
 have passed for black ; and there was in 
 them more than the ordinary inquiring 
 gaze of babyhood. 
 
 "Well, thah'rt a pratty lad; but had 
 thah bin th' fowest*' i' o' Lankisheer, aw'd 
 a-thowt thi mammy'd ha' speerdf fur thi 
 afore this," added he, sitting down, and 
 
 * Ugliest. t Inquired.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 27 
 
 nodding to tlie cMd, which, crowed in liis 
 face. 
 
 "Ah! one would ha' reckoned so," as- 
 sented Bess, without turning round. 
 
 " What ar' ta gooin' to do, Simon, toward 
 fandin th' choilt's kin?" next questioned 
 their visitor. 
 
 Simon looked puzzled. 
 
 *' Whoy, awVe hardly gi'en it a thowt." 
 
 But the question, once started, was dis- 
 cussed at some length. Meanwhile the 
 porridge designed for two Bess poured into 
 three bowls, placing three iron spoons 
 beside them, with no more ceremony than^ 
 " Ye'll tak' a sup wi' us, Mat." 
 
 Mat apologised, feeling quite assured 
 there was no more than the two could have 
 eaten ; but Simon looked hurt, and the 
 porridge was appetising to a hungry man ; 
 so he handed the baby to the young wo- 
 man, took up his spoon, and the broken 
 thread of conversation was renewed at
 
 28 THE MANCHESTEE, MAN. 
 
 intervals. What they said matters not so 
 much as what they did. 
 
 The next morning being Sunday, Cooper 
 called for Clegg just as the bells were 
 ringing for church ; and the two, arrayed 
 in their best fustian breeches, long-tailed 
 coats, knitted hose, three-cornered hats, 
 and shoes, only kept for Sunday wear, set 
 out to seek the parents of the unclaimed 
 infant, nothing doubting that they were 
 going to carry solace to sorrowing hearts. 
 Their course lay in the same track as the 
 Irk, now pursuing its course as smilingly 
 under the bright August sun as though its 
 banks were not strewed with wreck, and 
 foul with thick offensive mud, and the 
 woeful devastation were none of its doing. 
 There were fewer houses on their route 
 than now, and they kept close as possible 
 to the course of the river, questioning the 
 various inhabitants as they went along. 
 They had gone through Collyhurst and 
 Blakely without rousing anyone to a
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN, 29 
 
 thouglit beyond self-sustained damage, or 
 gaining a single item of intelligence, though 
 they made many a detour in quest of it. 
 At a roadside public-house close to Middle- 
 ton they sat down parched with heat and 
 thirst, called for a mug of ale each, drew 
 from their pockets thick hunks of brown 
 bread and cheese, wrapped in blue and 
 white check handkerchiefs, and whilst satis- 
 fying their hunger, came to the conclusion 
 that no cradle could have drifted safely so 
 far, crossing weirs and mill-dams amongst 
 uprooted bushes, timber, and household 
 chattels, and that it was best to turn back. 
 
 In Smedley Vale, where the flood seemed 
 to have done its worst, and where a small 
 cottage close to the river lay in ruins, a 
 knot of people were gathered together 
 talking and gesticulating as if in eager 
 controversy. As they approached, they 
 were spied by one of the group, - 
 
 "Here are th' chaps as fund the' babby, 
 an' wantn to know who it belungs to,"
 
 so THE 3IANCHESTEK MAN. 
 
 cried lie, a youth whom they had inter- 
 rogated early in the day. 
 
 To tell in brief what Simon and his com- 
 panion learned by slow degrees — the hap- 
 less child was alone in the world, orphaned 
 by a succession of misfortunes. The di- 
 lapidated cottage had been for some fifteen 
 months the home of its parents. The 
 father, who was understood to have come 
 from Crumpsall with his young ^vife and 
 her aged mother, had been sent for to 
 attend the death-bed of a brother in Liver- 
 pool, and had never been heard of since. 
 The alarm and trouble consequent upon 
 his prolonged absence prostrated the 
 young wife, and caused not only the babe's 
 premature birth, but the mother's death. 
 The care of the child had devolved upon 
 the stricken grandmother, who had him 
 brought up by hand, as Matthew's sagacity 
 had susrs^ested. She was a woman far ad- 
 vanced in years, and feeble, but she asked 
 no help from neighbours or parish, though
 
 THE MANCHESTZn ^lAX. 31 
 
 her poverty was apparent. She kept 
 poultry and knitted stockings, and 
 manaofed to eke out a living; somehow, but 
 how, none of those scattered neighbours 
 seemed to know — she had* *'*held her yead 
 so hoigh'' (pursued her way so quietly). 
 
 She had been out in her garden feeding 
 her fowls, when the flood came upon them 
 without warning, swept through the open 
 doors of the cottage, and carried cradle 
 and everything else before it. leaving hardly 
 a wall standins:. In endeavouring to save 
 the child she herself got seriously hurt, 
 and was with difficulty rescued. But be- 
 tween grief and fi'ight, bruises and the 
 drenching, the old dame succumbed, and 
 died on the Thursdav mornino; and had 
 been buiied by the parish — fi'om which in 
 life she had proudly kept aloof — that very 
 afternoon, and no one could tell other name 
 she had borne than Xan. 
 
 Bess sobbed aloud when she heai*d her 
 father's recital, which lost nothing of its
 
 32 THE MANCHESTER MAN". 
 
 pathos from the homely vernacular in which 
 it was couched. 
 
 "An' what's to be done neaw?" asked 
 Cooper, as he sat on one of the rush- 
 bottomed chairs, sucking the knob of his 
 walking-stick, as if for an inspiration. " Yo 
 canno' think o' keepin' th' choilt, an' bread 
 an' meal at sich a proice !" 
 
 " Connot oi ? Then aw conno' think o' 
 aught else. Wouldst ha' me chuck it i' th' 
 river agen ? What dost thah say, Bess ?" 
 turning to his daughter, who had the child 
 on her lap. 
 
 " Whoi, th' poor little lad's got noather 
 feyther nor mother, an' thah's lost boath o' 
 thi lads. Mebbe it's a Godsend, feyther, 
 after o', as yo said'n to me," and she kissed 
 it tenderly. 
 
 " Eh, wench ! " interposed Matthew, but 
 she went on without heeding him. 
 
 " There's babby clooas laid by i' lavender 
 i' thoase drawers as hasna seen dayleet 
 sin ar Joe wur a toddler, an' they'll just
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 38 
 
 come handy. An if bread's dear an' meaFs 
 dear, we mun just ate less on it arsels, an' 
 there'll be moore fur the choilt. He'll pay 
 yo back, feyther, aw know, when yo're too 
 owd to wark." 
 
 ''An' aw con do 'bout 'bacca, lass. If 
 the orphan's granny wur too preawd to ax 
 help o' th' parish, aw'll be too preawd to 
 send her pratty grandchoilt theer." 
 
 And so, to Matthew Cooper's amazement^ 
 it was settled. But the extra labour and 
 self-denial it involved on the part of Bess, 
 neither Matthew nor Simon could estimate. 
 
 In the midst of the rabid scepticism and 
 Republicanism of the period, Simon Clegg 
 was a staunch " Church and King " man, 
 and, as a natural consequence, a stout up- 
 holder of their ordinances. Regularly as 
 the bell tolled in for Sunday morning ser- 
 vice, he might be seen walking reverently 
 down the aisle of the old church, to his 
 place in the free seats, with his neat, cheer- 
 ful-looking daughter following him some- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 times, but not always — so regularly tha 
 the stout beadle missed him from his sea 
 the Sunday after the inundation, and meet 
 ing him in the churchyard a week latei 
 sought to learn the why and wherefore. 
 
 The beadle of the parish church was ai 
 important personage in the eyes of Simo] 
 Clegg : and, somewhat proud of his notice 
 the little tanner related the incidents o 
 that memorable flood-week to his querist 
 concluding with his adoption of the child. 
 
 The official li'md and ha'd, applaudec 
 the act, but shook his powdered head, an( 
 added, sagely, that it was a " greeat charge 
 a varry greeat charge." 
 
 '' Dun yo' think th' little un 's bin bab 
 tised?" interrogated the beadle. 
 
 "Aw conno' tell; nob'dy couldn't tel 
 nowt abeawt th' choilt, 'ut wur ony use t( 
 onybody. Bess an' me han talked it ower 
 an' we wur thinkin' o' bringin' it to b( 
 kirsened, to be on th' safe soide Hke. A^ 
 reckon it wouldna do th' choilt ony hanr
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 35 
 
 to be kirsened twoice ower; an' 'twould be 
 loike flingin' th' clioilt's soul to Owd Scrat 
 gin lie wur no kirsened at o'. Wbat dun 
 yo'thinkin'?" 
 
 The beadle thouglit pretty mucli the 
 same as Simon, and it was finally arranged 
 that Simon should present the young 
 foundling for baptism in the course of the 
 week. 
 
 D 2
 
 36 
 
 CHAPTER III.* 
 
 HOW THE EEV. JOSHUA BEOOKES AND SIMON 
 CLEGG INTERPKETED A SHAKE SPEAEI AN TEXT. 
 
 II FA^THESTER liad at that date twc 
 ^^^ eccentric clergymen attached to th( 
 Collegiate Church. The one, Parson Gat 
 liffe, a fine man, a polished gentleman, ai 
 eloquent preacher, but a bon vivant of whon 
 many odd stories are told. The other, th( 
 Reverend Joshua Brookes, a short, stumpy 
 man (so like to the old knave of club: 
 in mourning that the sobriquet of th( 
 ''Knave of Clubs" stuck to him), was i 
 rough, crusted, unpolished black-diamond 
 hasty in temper, harsh in tone, blunt ir 
 speech and in the pulpit, but with a tru( 
 
 * See Appendix B.
 
 THE MANCHESTER 3IAN; '^7 
 
 heart beating under tlie angular external 
 crystals; and lie was a good liver of another 
 sort than his colleague. 
 
 He was ithe son of a crippled and not 
 too sober shoemaker, who, when the boy's 
 intense desire for learning had attracted 
 the attention and patronage of Parson 
 Ainscough, went to the homes of several of 
 the wealthy denizens of the town, to ask 
 for pecuniary aid to send his son Joshua 
 to college. The youth's scholarly attain- 
 ments had already obtained him an exhi- 
 bition at the Free Grammar School, which, 
 coupled with the donations obtained by his 
 father and the helping hand of Parson 
 Ainscough, enabled him to keep his terms 
 and to graduate at Brazenose, to become a 
 master in the grammar school in which he 
 had been taught, and a chaj)lain in the 
 Collegiate Church. 
 
 So conscientious was he in the perform- 
 ance of his sacred duties that, albeit he was 
 wont to exercise his calling after a peculiar-
 
 38 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 ly rough fashion of his own, he married, 
 christened, buried more people during his 
 ministry than all the other ecclesiastics put 
 together. 
 
 It was to this Joshua Brookes (few ever 
 thought of prefixing the "Eeverend" in re- 
 ferring to him) that Simon Clegg brought 
 " Nan's " orphan grandchild to be baptised 
 on Tuesday, the 7th of September, just 
 three weeks from the date of his involunta- 
 ry voyage down the flooded Irk. 
 
 It had taken the tanner the whole of the 
 week following his conversation with the 
 beadle to determine the name he should 
 give the child, and many had been his con- 
 sultations with Bess on the subject. That 
 , very Sunday he had gone home from church 
 full of the matter, and lifting his big old 
 Bible from its post of honour on the top 
 of the bureau (it was his whole library), he 
 sat, after dinner, with his head in his hands 
 and his elbows on the table, debating the 
 momentous question.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 39 
 
 " Yo' see, Bess," said he, "a neame as 
 sticks to one all one's loife, is noan so 
 sma' a matter as some folk reckon. An' 
 yen's noan a common clioilt. It is na ev ry 
 day, no, nor ev'ry year, as a clioilt is 
 weshed down a river in a kayther, an' saved 
 from th' very jaws of deeath.* An' aw'd 
 loike to gi'e un a neame as 'ud mak' it re- 
 member it, an' thenk God for his marcifu' 
 presarvation a' th' days o' his loife." 
 
 After a long pause, during which Bess 
 took the baby from the cradle, tucked a 
 napkin under its chin, and began to feed it 
 with a spoon, he resumed — 
 
 " Yo' see, Bess, hadna aw bin kirsened 
 Simon, aw moight ha' bin a cobbler, or a 
 whitster,f or a wayver, or owt else. But 
 feyther could read tho' he couldna wroite ; 
 an' as he wur a reed-makker, he towt mi 
 moi A B C wi' crookin' up th' bits o' wires 
 he couldna use into th' shaps o' th' letters ; 
 an' when aw could spell sma' words grade- 
 
 * See Appendix B. t Bleacher.
 
 40 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 ly,* lie towt mi to read out o' tliis varry 
 book ; an' aw read o' Simon a tanner, an' 
 nowt 'ud sarve mi but aw mun be a tanner 
 too, so tlia sees tlieer's summat i' a neame 
 after o'." 
 
 Bess suggested tliat lie sbould be called 
 Noab, because Noab was saved in the ark ; 
 but lie objected that Noab was an old grey- 
 beard, witb a family, and tbat be knew the 
 flood was coming, and built the ark him- 
 self ; he was not *' takken unawares in his 
 helplessness loike that poor babby." 
 
 Moses was her next proposition — Bess 
 had learned something of Biblical lore at 
 the first Sunday-school Manchester could 
 boast, the one in Gun Street, founded by 
 Simeon Newton in 1788 — but Simon was 
 not satisfied even with Moses. 
 
 " Yo' see, Moses wur put in' th' ark o' 
 bullrushes o' purpose, an' noather thee nor 
 mi 's a Pharaoh's dowter, an' th' little chap's 
 not loike to be browt oop i' a pallis." 
 
 * Properly.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 41 
 
 Towards the end of tlie week he burst 
 into the room : " Oi hev it, lass, oi hev it 1 
 Wen co' the lad ' Irk ;' nobb'dy '11 hev a 
 neame loike that, and it '11 tell its own 
 story ; an fur th' af ter-neame, aw reckon 
 he mun tak' ours." 
 
 Marriages were solemnised in the richly- 
 carved choir of the venerable old Church, 
 but churchings and ba^otisms in a large 
 adjoining chapel ; and thither Bess, who 
 carried the baby, was ushered, followed by 
 Simon and Matt Cooper, who were to act 
 as its other sponsors. . 
 
 At the door they made way for the 
 entrance of a party of ladies, whom they 
 had seen alight from sedan-chairs at the 
 upper gate, where a couple of gentlemen 
 joined them. A nurse followed, with a 
 baby, whose christening robe, nearly two 
 yards long, was a mass of rich embroid- 
 ery. The mother herself — a slight, lovely 
 creature, additionally pale and delicate 
 from her late ordeal — wore a long, plain-
 
 42 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 skirted dress of varicoloured brocaded silk. 
 A lustrous silk scarf, trimmed with costly 
 lace, enveloped her shoulders. Her head- 
 dress, a bonnet with a bag-crown and 
 Quakerish poke -brim, was of the newest 
 fashion, as were the long kid glosses which 
 covered her arms to the elbows. 
 
 The party stepped forward as though 
 precedence was theirs of right even at the 
 church door, heeding not Simon s mannerly 
 withdrawal to let them pass ; and the very 
 nurse looked disdainfully at the calico gown 
 of the baby in the round arms of Bess, a 
 woman in a grey duffel cloak and old- 
 fashioned flat, broad-brimmed hat. 
 
 Is there any thrill, sympathetic or an- 
 tagonistic, in baby-veins, as they thus meet 
 there for the first time on their entrance 
 into the church and the broad path of life ? 
 For the first time — but scarcely for the 
 last. 
 
 Already a goodly crowd of mothers, 
 babies, godfathers, and godmothers had
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 4S 
 
 assembled — a crowd of all grades, judging 
 from their exteriors, for dress had not 
 then ceased to be a criterion ; and all cere- 
 monies of this kind were performed in 
 shoals — not singly. 
 
 The Kev. Joshua Brookes, followed by 
 his clerk, came through the door in the 
 carven screen, between the choir and bap- 
 tismal chapel, and took his place behind the 
 altar rails. And now ensued a scene which 
 some of my readers may think incredible,, 
 but which was common enough then, and 
 there, and is notoriously true. The width 
 of the altar would scarcely accommodate 
 the number of women waiting to be church- 
 ed ; and the impatient Joshua assisted the 
 apparitors to marshal them to their places, 
 with a sharp " You come here ! You kneel 
 there ! Yon woman's not paid !" accom- 
 panied by pulls and pushes, until the semi- 
 circle was filled. 
 
 But still the shrinking lady, and another,.
 
 44 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 unused to jostle with rough crowds, were 
 left standing outside the pale. 
 
 Impetuous Joshua had begun the service 
 before all were settled. 
 
 ''Forasmuch as it hath pleased " 
 
 His quick eye caught the outstanding 
 figures. Abruptly stopping his exordium, 
 he exclaimed, in his harsh tones, which 
 seemed to intimidate the lady, 
 
 ''What are you standing there for? 
 Can't you find a place ? Make room here !" 
 (pushing two ^vomen apart by the shoul- 
 der), ''thrutch up closer there! Make 
 haste, and kneel here !" (to the lady, pull- 
 ing her forward). "You come here; — 
 make room, will you ?" and having pulled 
 and pushed them into place, he resumed 
 the service. 
 
 Presently there was another outburst. 
 There had been a hushing of whimpering 
 babies, and a maternal smotherinof of in- 
 f antile cries, as a chorus throughout ; but 
 one fractious little one screamed right out,
 
 THE MAXCHESTEE MAN. 45 
 
 and refused to be comforted. The nervous 
 tremor on that kneeling lady's countenance 
 might have told to whom it belonged, had 
 Joshua been a skilful reader of hearts and 
 faces. His irritable temper got the better 
 of him. He broke off in the midst of the 
 psalm to call out, *' Stop that crying child !" 
 The crying child did not stop. In the 
 midst of another verse he bawled, " Give 
 that screaming babby the breast!" He 
 went on. The clerk had pronounced the 
 ''Amen" at the end of the psalm; the 
 chaplain followed, '^ Let us pray ;" but be- 
 fore he began the prayer, he again shouted, 
 " Take that squalling babby out !" — an 
 order the indignant nurse precipitately 
 obeyed; and the service ended without 
 further interruption. 
 
 Then followed the christenings, and 
 another marshalling (this time of god- 
 fathers and godmothers, with the infants 
 they presented) ; in which the hasty chap- 
 lain did his part with hands and voice
 
 46 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 until all were arranged to liis satisfaction. 
 
 It so happened tliat the tanner's group 
 and the lady's group were ranged side by 
 side. The latter was Mrs. Aspinall, the 
 wife of a wealth}^ cotton merchant, who, 
 with two other gentlemen and a lady, stood 
 behind her, and this time gave her their 
 much-needed support. Indeed, what with 
 the damp and chillness of the church, and 
 the agitation, the delicate lady seemed 
 ready to faint. 
 
 " Hath this child been already baptised 
 or no?" asked Joshua Brookes, and was 
 passing on, when Simon's unexpected re- 
 sponse arrested him. 
 
 '* Aw dunnot know." 
 
 '' Don't know ? How's that ? What are 
 you here for ?" were questions huddled one 
 on the other, in a broader vernacular than 
 I have thought well to put in the mouth of 
 a man so deeply learned. 
 
 '* Whoi, yo' see, this is the choilt as wur 
 weshed deawn th' river wi' th' flood in a
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 47 
 
 kayther; an' o' belungin' tli' lad are deead, 
 an' aw mun kirsen him to mak' o' sure." 
 
 Joshua listened with more patience than 
 might have been expected from him, and 
 passed on with a mere " Humph !" to ask 
 the same question from each in succession, 
 before proceeding with the general service. 
 At length he came to the naming of several 
 infants. 
 
 "Henrietta Burdelia Fitzbourne," was 
 given as the proposed name of a girl of 
 middle-class parents. 
 
 ^^ Mary, I baptise thee," &c., he calmly 
 proceeded, handed the baby back to the 
 astonished godmother, and passed to the 
 next, regardless of appeal. 
 
 Mrs. Aspinall's boy took his name of 
 Laurence with a noisy protest against the 
 sprinkling. Nor was the foundling silent 
 when, having been duly informed that the 
 boy's name was to be " ir^'," self-willed 
 Joshua deliberately, and with scarcely a 
 visible pause, went on —
 
 48 THE MANOHESTEH MAN. 
 
 " Jahez, I baptise thee in the name," &c., 
 and so overturned, at one fell swoojd, all 
 Simon's carefully-constructed castle. 
 
 Simon attempted to remonstrate, but 
 Joshua Brookes had another infant in his 
 arms, and was deaf to all but his own busi- 
 ness. Such a substitution of names was 
 too common a practice of his to disturb 
 him in the least. But Simon had a brave 
 spirit, and stood no more in awe of Joshua 
 Brookes — '* Jotty " as he was called — than 
 of another man. "When the others had 
 gone in a crowd to the vestry to register 
 the baptisms, he stopped to confront the 
 parson as he left the altar. 
 
 "What right had yo' to change the 
 neame aw chuse to gi'e that choilt ?" 
 
 '* What right had yo' to saddle the poor 
 lad with an Irksome name like that ?" was 
 the quick rejoinder. 
 
 " Koight ! why, aw wanted to gi'e th' lad 
 a neame as should mak' him thankful fur
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 49 
 
 bein' 'saved from dreawndin' to tli' last 
 deays o' his loife." 
 
 "An Irksome name like that would have 
 made him the butt of every little imp in 
 the gutters, until he'd have been ready to 
 drown himself to get rid of it. Jabez is 
 an honourable name, man. You go home, 
 and look through your Bible till you find 
 it." 
 
 Simon was open to conviction ; his bright 
 eyes twinkled as a new light dawned upon 
 them. 
 
 The gruff chaplain had brushed past 
 him on his way to the robing-room ; but 
 he turned back with his right hand in his 
 breeches pocket, and put a seven-shilling 
 piece in the palm of the tanner, saying, 
 
 " Here's something towards the christen- 
 ing feast of th' little chap I've stood god- 
 father to. And don't you forget to look in 
 * Chronicles ' for Jabez, and, above all, see 
 that the lad doesn't disgrace his name." 
 
 Joshua Brookes had the character, among 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 60 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 those who knew liim least^ of loving mone} 
 overmuch, and this unwonted exhibition o\ 
 generosity took Simon's breath. 
 
 The chaplain was gone before he re- 
 covered from his amazement — gone, witl 
 a tender heart softened towards tht 
 fatherless child thrown upon the world 
 his cynicism rebuked by the true charit] 
 of the poor tanner, who had taken th( 
 foundling to his home in a season o: 
 woeful dearth. 
 
 And, to his credit be it said, the Rev 
 Joshua Brookes never lost sight of eithei 
 Simon or little Jabez. He was wont tc 
 throw out words which he meant to be ii 
 season, but his harsh, abrupt manner, as i 
 rule, neutralised the effect of his impronj^pti 
 teachings. Now, however, the seed was 
 thrown in other ground, and, as he intend 
 ed, Simon's curiosity was excited. Th( 
 Bible was reverently lifted from the bureai 
 as soon as they reached home, and, aftei 
 some seeking, the passage was found.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 51 
 
 Simon's reading was nofhing to boast 
 of, but Cooper could not read at all, and 
 in the eyes of Ms unlettered comrades 
 Clegg shone as a learned man. He could 
 decipher ^^ black print," and that, in his 
 days, amongst his class, was a distinction. 
 Slowly he traced his fingers along the 
 lines for his own information, and then 
 still more slowly, with a sort of rest after 
 every word, read out to his auditors — 
 Bess, Matthew, and Matthew's wife (there 
 in her best gown and best temper), — with 
 slight dialectal peculiarities, which need 
 not be reproduced — 
 
 *^ And Jabez was more honourable than 
 his brethren : and his mother called his 
 name Jabez, because she bare him with 
 sorrow. And Jabez called on the God of 
 Israel, saying, that thou wouldst bless 
 me indeed, and enlarge my coast, and that 
 thine hand might be with me, and that 
 thou wouldst keep me from evil, that it 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 52 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 may not grieve me ! And God grante 
 him tliat wliicli he requested."* 
 
 " Eh, Simon, mon, owd Jotty wur woisc 
 nor thee. Theer's a neame fur a lad t 
 stand by ! It's as good as a leeapin'-pow, 
 that it is, t' help him ower th' brucksj a: 
 rucks§ o' th' warld." 
 
 Simon sat lost in thought. At lengt 
 he raised his head, and remarked soberly- 
 
 " Parson Brookes moight ha' bin 
 prophet ; th' choilt's mother did bear hii 
 wi' sorrow. The neame fits th' lad as if 
 had bin meade fur him." 
 
 '^ Then aw hope he's a prophet o' eaw 
 feyther, an' o' th' rest'll come true i 
 toime," briskly interjected Bess ; adding- 
 "Coom, tay's ready ;" further appendin| 
 for the information of their visitors- 
 " Madam Clough sent the tay an' suga: 
 an' th' big curran'-loaf, when hoo heear 
 as feyther had axed fur a holiday fur th 
 
 * 1 Chron. iv. 9, 10. t Leaping-pole. t Broot 
 
 § Heaps — impediments.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 53 
 
 kirsenin ; an' Mester Clougli's sent some 
 yale [ale], an' a thumpin' piece o' beef." 
 
 '' Ay, lass ; an' as we'n a'ready a foine 
 kirsenin' feeast, we'n no change parson's 
 seven-shillin' piece, but lay it oop fur th' 
 lad liissen." 
 
 But the christening feast did not proceed 
 without sundry noisy demonstrations from 
 Master Jabez. If, as Simon had once 
 hinted, he was an angel in the house, he 
 flapped his wings and blew his trumpet 
 pretty noisily at times. 
 
 "Eh, lass, aw wish Tum wur here 
 neaw, to enjoy hisself wi' us. Aw wonder 
 what he'd say to see yo' nursin' a babby so 
 bonnily ?" 
 
 Simon was munching a huge piece of 
 currant-cake as he uttered this, after a 
 meditative pause. A look of pain passed 
 over Bessy's face. She rarely mentioned 
 the absent Tom, though he was seldom 
 out of her thoughts. 
 
 " Yea, an' aw wish he wur here !" she
 
 64 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 echoed with a sigh, the fountain of which 
 was deep in her own breast. " Aw wonder 
 where he is neaw." 
 
 ^' Feightin , mebbe !" suggested her 
 father. 
 
 " Killed, mebbe !'' was the fearful sug- 
 gestion of her own heart, and she was 
 silent for some time afterwards. 
 
 But the feast proceeded merrily for all 
 that, and no wonder, where Charity was 
 president. And there was quite as happy 
 a party under that humble roof in Skin- 
 ners' Yard as that assembled in the grand 
 house at Ardwick, where Master Laurence 
 Aspinall was handed about in his embroid- 
 ered robes for the inspection of guests who 
 cared very little about him, although they 
 did present him with silver mugs, and 
 spoons, and corals, and protest to his pale 
 and exhausted mamma that he was the 
 finest infant in Manchester.
 
 55 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 MISCHIEF. 
 
 T T was a time of distress at home and 
 -*- war abroad. Glory's scarlet fever was 
 as rife an epidemic in Manchester as else- 
 where. The town bristled with bayonets ; 
 corps of volunteers in showy uniforms, on 
 parade or exercise, with banners flying, 
 dotted it like spots on a peacock's tail ; the 
 music of drum and fife drowned the mur- 
 murs of discontented men, the groans of 
 poverty-stricken women, and the cries of 
 famishing children. All nostrums were 
 prescribed for the evils of famine except a 
 stoppage of the war. The rich made 
 sacrifices for the poor ; pastry was banished
 
 56 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 by common consent from the tables of the 
 wealthy in order to cheapen flour ; soup- 
 kitchens were established for the poor, and 
 in the midst of the general dearth the 
 nineteenth century struggled into exist- 
 ence. 
 
 It was this war-fever which had carried of£ 
 Bessy Clegg's sweetheart, Thomas Hulme, 
 to Ireland, in Lord "Wilton's Regiment of 
 Lancashire Volunteers, three years before. 
 The honest, true-hearted fellow could not 
 write for himself, postage was expensive 
 and uncertain, and in all those three years 
 only two letters, written by a comrade, had 
 reached the girl. To her simple, unin- 
 formed mind, Ireland was as foreign and 
 distant a country as Australia is to us in 
 these days. And to be stationed there 
 with his regiment amongst those " wild 
 Irishmen," conveyed only the idea of 
 battles and bloodshed. Yet she kept a 
 brave heart on the matter, and hid her 
 anxieties from her father as well as she was
 
 THE MANCHESTER 31AN. 57 
 
 able. In some respects little Jabez ivas a 
 Godsend to her. The frequent attention 
 lie required, combined with her labours at 
 the batting-frame, and her household 
 duties, tended to distract her mind from 
 the dark picture over which she was so 
 much inclined to brood, and to make her, 
 if anything, more cheerful. Once more 
 the voice which had been silent tuned up 
 in song, for the gratification of the young- 
 ster, and in amusing him she insensibly 
 cheered and refreshed herself. 
 
 Yet as she trilled her quaint ballads, or 
 Sabbath-school hymns, she little thought 
 her vocalisation was to furnish an envious 
 mind with a shaft to wound herself, and 
 the one of all others dearer than herself. 
 
 Soon after the memorable christening 
 feast, Matthew Cooper and his family had 
 removed — or '' flitted," as they called it — 
 from Barlow's Yard to Skinners' Yard; 
 and Sally, that peaceable man's termagant 
 wife, was not the most desirable of neigh-
 
 58 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 hours. The tea, and the currant-cake, and 
 the beef on that unusually well-spread 
 board, had filled her with pleasure for the 
 time, but turned to gall and bitterness ere 
 thev were digested. Why should the 
 Cleggs be so high in the favour of Mr. 
 and Madam Clough, and her Matt get 
 nothing better than half-a-crown-piece ? 
 He'd quite as much to do in saving the 
 brat's life as Simon had, and with such a 
 family wanted it a fine sight more. So 
 she argued and argued with herself, quite 
 ignoring, or blind to the fact that it was 
 not the mere impulse which saved, but the 
 humanity which kept the babe that Mr. 
 Clough recognised, and never lost sight 
 of. 
 
 As Simon grew in favour at the tannery, 
 the more excited grew Sally Cooper, until 
 nothing would do but a removal to the 
 opposite yard, where she could see for her- 
 self the ^' gooin's on o' them Cleggs ;" and 
 once there, she contrived to harass Bess
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAX. 59 
 
 by numberless little spiteful acts, as well 
 as by her vituperative tongue. 
 
 Kor did little Jabez himself escape. 
 Parson Brookes, grumbling loudly at every 
 downward step, found his way to Bess o' 
 Sims, guided by the quick- swishing, regular 
 beat of the batting- wands. 
 
 Mrs. Clough having, by ocular demon- 
 stration, satisfied herself that Bess was a 
 sufficiently notable house-wife and a kindly 
 nurse, had replaced the worn-out long- 
 clothes which Jabez inherited from 
 " brother Joe," by a set of more serviceable 
 and suitable short ones; had, moreover, 
 sent an embrocation to allay Simon's 
 rheumatic pains, and to crown the whole, 
 supplied a go-cart for the boy, to help him 
 to walk, and yet leave the hands of in- 
 dustrious Bess at liberty. 
 
 As Miss Jewsbury has said in her ex- 
 quisite story of ^' The Rivals," that go-cart 
 *' was the drop added to the brimming cup, 
 the touch given to the falling column."
 
 GO THE MAXCHESTEE 3IAN. 
 
 Matt's worse-lialf — an inveterately clean 
 woman, be it said — was occupied with lier 
 Saturday's "redding up" when she saw the 
 wood-turner carry it in ; and she thereupon 
 trundled her mop at the door so vigorously 
 and viciously that the children instinc- 
 tively shrank into corners or ran out of 
 the yard altogether, beyond reach of her 
 weighty arm. And as, one by one, they 
 ventured back after what they thought a 
 safe interval, creeping stealthily over the 
 freshly-sanded floor, and mayhap leaving 
 the impression of wet clogs thereon, jerks, 
 cuffs, and slaps were administered with a 
 freedom born of her supposed wrongs. 
 
 When Mat came home, to offer his 
 wages upon the household altar, the storm 
 liad not subsided, and he was fain to 
 retreat to the quiet fire-side of Simon to 
 smoke his pipe in peace, and escape its 
 pitiless peltings. He could not have 
 selected a worse haven. It was a flaofrant 
 going over to the enemy. Thither she
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAX. 61 
 
 followed him in her wi^ath, and in her 
 blind fury assailed not only him, but Bess, 
 Simon, Mr. Clough, and Joshua Brookes^ 
 whom she mingled in indiscriminate con- 
 fusion, casting aspersions on the girl, 
 which wounded nobody more than her own 
 husband. 
 
 In the midst and in spite of all thiSy 
 Jabez grew apace. Life was not altogether 
 sweetened for him by Mrs. Clough's kind- 
 ness, only made a little less bitter, and 
 certainly not less hard ; since almost his 
 first experience with the go-cart was to tilt 
 at the open doorway, and pitch head-fore- 
 most down a flight of three steps into the 
 stony yard, whence frightened Bess raised 
 him, with a bleeding nose and a great bump 
 on his forehead, amidst the mocking laugh- 
 ter of Sal Cooper. 
 
 A chair was overturned across the door- 
 way as a barrier, until Simon could place a 
 sliding foot-board there. But Jabez had 
 still many a knock against chair or table
 
 62 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 until Bess made a padded roll for his fore- 
 head, as a protective coronal. Then every 
 tooth cost him a convulsion, and any one 
 less patient and tender-hearted than Bess 
 would have abandoned her self-imposed 
 charge in despair, his accidents and ailments 
 made such inroads on her rest and on her 
 time. 
 
 But even patience has its limits, and 
 Sally Cooper strained the cable until it 
 snapped. At a war of words Bess was no 
 match for her antagonist ; and, rather than 
 endure a second contest, the Cleggs left the 
 fiery serpent behind, and quitted the yard. 
 
 Not willingly, for Simon, contrary to the 
 roving habits of ordinary weekly tenants, 
 had not changed his abode since his 
 wedding-day, and the river was as a friend 
 to him. He declared he " could na sleep 
 o' neets without th' wayter singin' to him." 
 However, he contrived to find a very 
 similar tenement, in just such another 
 cid'Cle-sac, with just such another tripe-
 
 THE MANCHESTER ]\rAX. 63 
 
 dresser's cellar underneath, and that too 
 without quitting LongMillgate. Midway be- 
 tween the college and the tannery this court 
 was situated, its narrow mouth opening to 
 the breezes wafting down Hanover Street : 
 they could still look out on the verdure of 
 Walker's Croft, and the Irk laved its stony 
 base as at that same Skinners' Yard, which 
 Simon lived to see demoHshed. 
 
 It was May ; bright, sunny, perfumed 
 May. The hawthorn hedges on the ridge 
 of the croft were white with scented 
 blossoms, and the Irk — not the muddled 
 stream which improvement (!) is fast shut- 
 ting out of remembrance — went on its 
 dimpled way, smiling at the promise of the 
 season. The echoes of the May-day milk- 
 cart beUs, and the flutter of their decorative 
 ribbons, were dying out of all but infantile 
 remembrance ; — the month was more than 
 a fortnight old. 
 
 It was 1802, and Jabez was almost three 
 years old. He was running, or rather
 
 64 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 scrambling, about tlie uneven court, 
 gathering strength of limb and lung from 
 their free use, albeit at the cost of dirt on 
 frock and face, and the trouble of washing 
 for Bess. 
 
 She was singing at her batting-frame — 
 not an unusual thing now, for rumour had 
 whispered in her ear that the Lancashire 
 Volunteers were on their homeward march. 
 Even as she sang, a stout young fellow in 
 uniform stopped at the narrow entrance of 
 the court, and questioned two or three 
 gossiping women, who, with arms akimbo, 
 blocked up the passage, if they knew the 
 whereabouts of Simon Clegg the tanner, 
 and his daughter Bess. 
 
 '* "What ! th' wench as has the love- 
 choilt ?" answered one of the women. 
 
 The young man shuddered, and knit his 
 brows. 
 
 " The girl I mean had no child when I 
 saw her last," responded he, between his 
 set teeth.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 65 
 
 " Happen that's some toime sin', mester, 
 or it's not th' same lass. That's her singin' 
 hke a throstle o'er her work at the oppen 
 winder." 
 
 '•And that's her choilt," said another, 
 ending by a lusty call, " Jabez, lad, coom 
 hither !" 
 
 Jabez, taught to obey his elders, came at 
 a trot in answer to the woman's call. The 
 volunteer looked down upon him. The 
 child had neither Bess's eyes nor Bess's 
 features ; but he heard the voice of Bess, 
 and over the woman's shoulder he caught 
 a glimpse of her face at the distant window. 
 It luas Bess, sure enough ! 
 
 Sick at heart, Tom Hulme, for it was he, 
 leaned for support against the side of the 
 dark entry. These women but conj&rmed 
 what he had heard in Skinners' Yard from 
 Matt Cooper's vindictive wife. The deep 
 shadow of the entry hid his change of 
 countenance. Without a condemnatory 
 word, without a step forward towards the 
 
 YOL. I. F
 
 66 THE 3IANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 girl wliose heart was full of him, lie steadi- 
 ed himself and his voice, and mustering 
 courage to say, "No, that is not the lass I 
 want," strode resolutely out of the entry ; 
 and, bending his steps to the right, turned 
 up Toad Lane, and so on to the Seven 
 Stars in Withy Grove, where he was billeted. 
 He had come back from Ireland full of 
 hope, and this was the end of it ! He had 
 been constant, and she was frail! She 
 whom he had left so pure had sunk so low 
 that, though she bore the brand of shame, 
 she could sing blithely at her work, un- 
 conscious or reckless of her degradation ! 
 Tom had only been a hand-loom weaver, 
 and was but a private in his regiment, but 
 he had a soul as constant in love, as sensi- 
 tive to disgrace, as the proudest ofl&cer in 
 the corps. He might have doubted Sally 
 Cooper's artful insinuations, but for the 
 unconscious confirmation of the other 
 women, and the personal testimony of poor 
 little Jabez ; the innocent child, born with
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 67 
 
 sorrow by liis own dead mother, bringing 
 sorrow to liis living maiden foster-mother. 
 The little lispings of the child conveyed 
 no impression to Bess's understanding, but 
 one of the women bawled out to her from 
 the open court — 
 
 ^'Aw say, theer's bin a volunteer chap 
 axin' fur a lass neamed Bess Clegg, but 
 he saw thee from th' entry, and said yo're 
 not th' lass he wanted !" 
 
 Her heart gave a great leap, and the blood 
 flushed up to her pale face. Could it be 
 possible that there was another Bess Clegg 
 of whom a volunteer could be in search ? 
 Yet, had that been her Tom, he would have 
 known his Bess again, even after five — ay, 
 or twenty years. She would know him 
 anywhere ! And so all that day, and the 
 next, her heart kept in a flutter of expecta- 
 tion and perplexity. She wondered he did 
 not come. The regiment was in town ; he 
 ! surely had not been misled in his inquiries 
 I because they had " flitted." Yet in all her 
 
 f2
 
 68 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 thoughts the grim reality had no place. 
 Her perfect innocence and singleness of 
 heart had never suggested such a possi- 
 bility to her. 
 
 The days went by from the 13th to the 
 22nd, yet he came not. After working- 
 hours Simon tried to hunt him up ; but 
 the billeting system, and ill-lighted streets, 
 set his simple tactics at defiance. On the 
 latter day, Lord Wilton gave a dinner in 
 the quadrangle of the College, to the non- 
 commissioned officers and privates in his 
 regiment, to celebrate their return, and 
 the peace and plenty then restored to the 
 land. 
 
 At the first sound of fife and drum Bess 
 snatched up Jabez, and, leaving house and 
 batting-frame to take care of themselves, 
 rushed along the street to the Sun Inn 
 Corner, where Long Millgate turns at a 
 sharp angle, the old Grammar School and 
 the Chetham College gate standing at the 
 outer bend of the elbow. The better to
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 69 
 
 see, slie mounted the steps of the house 
 next to the ''Sun" — a house kept by a 
 leather-breeches maker, — and strained her 
 eyes as the gay procession wound from the 
 apple-market, passed the handsome black 
 and white frame-house of the Grammar 
 School's head-master, and, with banners 
 flying and drums beating, marched under 
 the ancient arched gateway, between a 
 double row of blue-coat boys. 
 
 She held Jabez high up in her arms to 
 let him see, and his little arms clasped her 
 neck, as she scanned every passing soldier's 
 features. Two^thirds of the corps had 
 passed — she saw the loved and looked-for 
 face, and, radiant with delight, stretched 
 forward, and in eager tones called ''Tom!" 
 
 There was a mutual start of recognition, 
 two faces crimsoned to the brow, then one 
 white as ashes, a keen meaning glance at 
 the child, teeth clenched and eyes set with 
 stern resolution ; and, without another 
 look, without a word, Tom Hulme went on
 
 70 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 under the Whale's-jawbone gateway ; and 
 Bess, with brain bewildered, hands and 
 limbs relaxed, sank on the breeches-maker's 
 steps in a dead faint. 
 
 A lady (Mrs. Chadwick), who had a little 
 girl by the hand, caught Jabez as they fell, 
 and putting his hand in her daughter's, 
 bade her take care of him — she was perhaps 
 a year or two older than he, — whilst she 
 raised the poor young woman's head, and 
 applied a smelling-bottle to her nose. 
 
 Strange parting, strange meeting ! How 
 close the founts of sweet and bitter waters 
 lie ! How often separate streams of life 
 meet and part again ; some to meet and 
 blend in after-years, some to meet never 
 more! 
 
 Another week, and Lord Wilton s Lan- 
 cashire volunteer regiment had a man the 
 less, the line had a man the more. Private 
 Thomas Hulme had exchanged.
 
 71 
 
 CHAPTER v.* 
 
 ELLEN CHADWICK. 
 
 fin HE song of tlie Imman throstle was 
 -^ lieard no more floating across tlie 
 batting-frame out of tlie window of its 
 cage, in the dreary yard on the banks of 
 the Irk. The swish of the wands might 
 be heard when other sounds were low, but 
 no more snatches of melody flowed in 
 between. 
 
 Kind-hearted Mrs. Ohadwick had not 
 been content to leave poor Bessy at the 
 breeches-maker's when her swoon was over; 
 but, seeing that the girl continued in a 
 dazed kind of stupor, sent to the adjoin- 
 ing " Sun Inn " for cold brandy-and- water, 
 
 * See Appendix C.
 
 72 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 to stimulate the dormant mind. Bess 
 drank, half unconsciously, and Mrs. Chad- 
 wick, leaving her little daughter Ellen, to 
 amuse astonished Jabez, waited patiently 
 until the young woman could collect her 
 ideas, and not only tell where she lived, 
 but prepare to walk home. 
 
 By that time the road was tolerably 
 clear. Mrs. Chadwick thanked the breeches- 
 maker, and bidding Miss Ellen march in 
 advance with little Jabez, herself helped 
 Bessy Clegg homeward. 
 
 She never asked herself why or where- 
 fore the girl had fainted, or whose the child 
 she carried in her arms. She merely saw 
 a modest-looking young woman stricken 
 down b}^ illness or distress, and put out a 
 Christian hand to help her. 
 
 It was past Simon's dinner-hour, and 
 they found him on the look-out for the 
 absentees. He was more bewildered than 
 Bess when he saw her brought home pale 
 and trembling by a stranger, whose dress
 
 THE MANOHESTEU MAN. 73 
 
 and manner bespoke lier superior station. 
 Mrs. Chadwick explained, seeing tliat Bess 
 was incapable. 
 
 " The poor girl fainted almost opposite 
 to the College gate, as she watched Earl 
 Wilton's regiment march past. She re- 
 covered so slowly, I was afraid to let her 
 come through the streets unprotected, 
 especially as she had so young a child in 
 her charge." 
 
 Simon thanked her, as well he might. 
 Benevolence will relieve distress with 
 money, or passing words of sympathy, but 
 it is not often silken skirt and satin bonnet 
 walk through a crowded thoroughfare in 
 close conjunction with bonnetless cotton 
 and linsey. 
 
 Yet Simon was utterly at a loss to ac- 
 count for her swoon. He could only con- 
 jecture that she had missed her sweetheart 
 from the corps, and that the inquiring 
 volunteer had been a comrade sent to an- 
 nounce Tom Hulme's death. Observing
 
 74 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 how much he was confounded, the good 
 lady thought it best to retire, and leave 
 them to themselves. 
 
 '' Come, Ellen, it is time we went home." 
 
 But Ellen, seated on a low stool in the 
 corner, had her lap full of broken toys, 
 which had found their way hither from the 
 Clough nursery, and which Jabez displayed 
 to all comers. 
 
 " My daughter appears wonderfully at- 
 tracted to your little grandson." 
 
 *' He's no gran'son o' moine. Misses, 
 though aw think aw love th' little lad as 
 much as if he did belung to us. Aw just 
 picked him eawt o' th' wayter, i' th' greet 
 flood abeawt two year an' hauve back. Aw 
 dunnot know reetly who th' young un be- 
 lungs to." 
 
 " And you have kept him ever since — 
 through all the trying time of scarcity ?" 
 
 " Yoi ; aw could do no other, an' a little 
 chap like Jabez couldna ate much." 
 
 *' It does you credit," said the lady.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 75 
 
 " Mebbe. Aw dunnot know. Aw dunnot 
 see mich credit i' doin' one's clear duty. 
 But aw think theer'd lia' bin &-credit an*^ 
 aw hadna done it." 
 
 "I wish everyone shared your senti- 
 ments," replied she. 
 
 By this time the little girl had relin- 
 quished the toys, kissed the little boy 
 patronisingly, and was by her mother's side, 
 ready to depart. A word of sympathy and 
 encouragement from Mrs. Chad wick, and 
 father and daughter were left alone with 
 their new sorrow. 
 
 Sorely puzzled was Simon to account 
 for Tom Hulme's strange conduct. He 
 could only come to the conclusion that he 
 had picked up a fresh sweetheart in Ire- 
 land, and was ashamed to show his face. 
 
 " An' if so, lass, yo're best off without 
 him," said he. 
 
 The stern, troubled look on the young 
 volunteer's face, which Bess had seen 
 and her father had not, he could not
 
 76 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 understand, and therefore could not credit. 
 
 One day the girl said, as if struck by a 
 sudden thought — 
 
 "Feyther, aw saw Turn look hard at 
 Jabez. Dun yo' think as heaAv he fancied 
 aw wur wed ?" 
 
 " He moight, lass, he moight," said he, 
 knocking the ashes out of his pipe ; "but 
 dunnot thee fret ; aw'll look Turn up, and 
 set it o' reet, if that's o'." 
 
 But there was no setting it right, for by 
 that time Tom had left the corps and the 
 town, and thenceforth Bessy's musical pipe 
 was out of tune, and stopped utterly. She 
 worked, it is true, but she had no heart in 
 her work ; and though before her father 
 she kept up a show of cheerfulness, in his 
 absence she had shed many and bitter 
 tears. 
 
 Smiles and tears are among a child's 
 earliest perceptions and experiences. Of 
 the mother's smile in its full sense Jabez 
 knew nothing. With all her winning ways,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 77 
 
 Bess could never supply that want, if want 
 it could be where it was never missed,, 
 having so good a substitute. But of the 
 change which came over her when she knew 
 that Tom was indeed lost to her, even the 
 three years child could be sensible. He 
 had been early taught to show a brave 
 front when he hurt himself, and the start- 
 ing tears would subdue to a whimper ; but, 
 for all that, tears to him meant pain or 
 disappointment, and as they fell and wetted 
 the (not always clean) little cheek laid lov- 
 ingly against hers, a tender chord was 
 struck, he would press his small arm 
 tighter round her neck, and with a sym- 
 pathetic " Don't ky, Beth !" nestle closer, 
 and try to kiss away the drops, which only 
 fell the faster. 
 
 Low-spirited nurses do not make lively 
 children, and Jabez, after a stout tussle 
 with the whooping-cough, began to droop 
 as much as Bess ; so clear-eyed Simon in- 
 stituted a series of Sunday rambles for the
 
 78 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 tliree, in search of plants and posies, to 
 brighten their dull home, and of bloom to 
 brighten the fading cheeks. Sometimes 
 Matt Cooper, with one or two of his young- 
 sters, would join them, but not often ; Sal 
 was so jealous of his friendship with the 
 Cleggs, and the pleasant day was so certain 
 to be marred by an unpleasant reception 
 in the evening at home. 
 
 These Summer walks seldom extended 
 beyond Collyhurst Clough and quarries, or 
 Smedley Yale, or through the fields to 
 Chetham Hill, stopping at the " Cow and 
 Calf" to refresh, and rest the little ones, 
 before they came back laden with wild 
 flowers down Red Bank and over Scotland 
 Bridge, to their respective " yards " in 
 Long Millgate. 
 
 At first, whenever they took the lower 
 road through Angel Meadow, they did 
 their best to ferret out the parentage and 
 connections of Jabez, hoping by their in- 
 quiries even to keep alive the memory of
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 79 
 
 his marvellous deliverance, so that in case 
 the missing father should return, there 
 might be a mutual restoration. 
 
 These Sunday excursions did not drop 
 with the sere autumnal leaves. A crisp 
 clear day called them forth surely as sun- 
 shine had done, Jabez mounting pick-a- 
 back on the shoulders of Simon or Matt 
 when his little feet could no longer keep 
 up their trot beside the bigger Cooper 
 boys. Frames were invigorated, cheerful- 
 ness came back to face and home, and 
 Simon, who had a deep-seated love of 
 Nature in his soul, finding her so good a 
 physician, kept up the acquaintance through 
 rounding seasons and years. And from 
 Nature he drew lessons which he dropped 
 as seed into the boy's heart, as unconscious 
 of the great work he was doing as was 
 Jabez himself. 
 
 The boy throve and grew hardy. Com- 
 panionship with older, rougher lads, sturdy 
 fellows with wills of their own, made him
 
 80 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 sturdy too, a lad who would take a blow 
 and give one on occasion ; who would run 
 a race and lose, and a second, and third, 
 until he could win. But Bess's gentle 
 training was something very different from 
 Sal's, and Jabez grew up tender as well as 
 strong and bold. 
 
 A persecuted kitten had taken refuge 
 under Bessy's batting-frame in the found- 
 ling's go-cart days, and in care for that 
 kitten, and for a wounded brown linnet 
 brought home one Sunday, he learned 
 humanity. Matthew's lads were given to 
 bird-nesting, and Matt himself saw no harm 
 in it ; but when that young linnet's wing 
 was broken in a scuffle for the nest stolen 
 from a clump of brushwood, Simon read 
 the robbers such a homily they had never 
 heard in their young lives, and as a co- 
 rollary he took the bird home to be fed 
 and nursed by Bess and Jabez till it could 
 fly, an event which never came about. 
 
 In hot weather the lads pulled off clogs
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN". 81 
 
 and stockings (there were no trousers to 
 turn up — they wore breeches), and waded 
 into pools and brooks, and Jabez would be 
 no whit behind. On one of these occasions^ 
 either thd* current was too strong for the 
 venturesome child, or the gravel slipped 
 from under his feet, or his companions 
 pushed him — no matter which, — but in he 
 went, and, but for the presence of Simon, 
 would have been drowned. Simon had 
 been born on the river-banks, and could 
 swim like a fish. At once he resolved 
 that Jabez should learn to do the same, 
 and begin at once. 
 
 '' Yo' see, Bess, if aw hadna bin theer 
 he'd a bin dreawnded, sure as wayter's wet, 
 an' th' third toime pays off fur o' ; so he 
 mun larn to tak' care on himsel' th' next 
 toime he marlocks [gambols] among th^ 
 Jack-sharps." 
 
 Jabez was not six years old when Simon 
 Clegg gave him and the young Coopers 
 their first lesson in swimming, in a de- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 S2 THE MANCHESTER MATST. 
 
 lightful and sequestered part of Smedley 
 Yale, where tlie Irk was clear and bright. 
 He had shown them, nearer home, how a 
 frog used its limbs, and then, after a few 
 preliminary evolutions, to show how a 
 man used his, took the lad on his back, 
 and, after swimming with him awhile 
 shook him off into the water to flounder 
 about for himself. 
 
 Bess was often left at home on Sundays 
 after that ; and Jabez was not merely the 
 better for his bath, but by the time he was 
 eight years old was a fearless swimmer. 
 
 Yet, although these country rambles 
 had become an institution, Simon Clegg 
 never neglected his Sabbath duties. Sun- 
 day morning was sure to see him, clean- 
 shaven, in his best suit, with Jabez by the 
 hand, and mild-eyed Bess beside, on the 
 free seats of the Old Church, under the eye 
 of parsons and churchwardens ; and Jabez, 
 if he could understand little of the service, 
 could gather in a sense of the beautiful
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 83 
 
 from the grand old arcliitecture, from tlie 
 swell of the solemn organ, the harmonious 
 voices of the choristers — of the Blue-coat 
 boys in the Ohetham-gallery over the 
 churchwarden's pew, and of the Green- 
 coat children farther on. Then the silver 
 mace carried before the parson was a 
 thing to wonder at, and fill him with awe ; 
 and no one could tell how the clerical 
 robes, and choristers' surplices, transfigured 
 common mortals in his admiring eyes. 
 
 But those years of Jabez Clegg's young 
 life had been full of history for Manchester 
 and Europe. The town had grown as 
 well as the foundling. Invention had 
 been busy. Volunteer regiments had been 
 one by one disbanded, a daily newspaper 
 was started, and peaceful arts flourished. 
 Then, ere another year expired, Napoleon 
 declared the British Isles in a state of 
 blockade ; British subjects on French soil, 
 whether civil or military, to be prisoners 
 of war : British commodities lawful spoil ; 
 
 g2
 
 84 THE MANCHESTEE MAN". 
 
 and so War — red-handed War — broke 
 loose once more. Again Mancliester rose 
 up in arms to defend country and com- 
 merce. A '^ Loyalty Fund" of £22,000 
 was raised for the support of Government. 
 No fewer than nine separate volunteer 
 corps sprang from the ashes of the old 
 ones, and the town was one huge garrison. 
 The commander of one regiment — the 
 Loyal Masonic Eifle Volunteer Corps, — 
 Colonel Hanson — a remarkable man in 
 many ways, — was distinguished by a com- 
 mand from George III. to appear at Court 
 in full regimentals, and with his hat on. 
 
 Messrs. Pickford offered to place at the 
 disposal of Government four hundred 
 horses, fifty waggons, and twenty-eight 
 boats. Loyal townsmen, with more money 
 than courage of their own, sought to 
 stimulate that of others by sending gold 
 medals flying amongst the officers of 
 the volunteer corps. " The British Volun- 
 teer" came from the press of Harrop in
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 85 
 
 the Market Place, and once more the music 
 of drum and trumpet was in the ascendant. 
 
 To crown the whole, Manchester, which 
 had never been called upon to entertain 
 British Royalty since Henry VII. looked 
 in upon the infant town, was visited in 
 1804 by Prince William, Duke of Glouces- 
 ter, commander of the North-west Dis- 
 trict, and his son, to review this Lancashire 
 volunteer army ; and the whole town was 
 consequently in a ferment of excitement. 
 Nothing was thought of or talked of but 
 the visit of the Duke and Prince, and the 
 coming review, the more so as reports 
 differed respecting the appointed site. 
 
 Market Street, Manchester, which a 
 well-known writer has commemorated as 
 one of the " Streets of the "World," was 
 then Market Street Lane, a confused 
 medley of shops and private houses, vary- 
 ing from the low and rickety black-and- 
 white tenement of no pretensions, to the 
 fine mansion with an imposing frontage,
 
 86 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 and ample space before. But the thorougli- 
 fare was in places so very narrow that two 
 vehicles could not pass, and pedestrians on 
 the footpath were compelled to take 
 refuse in doorways from the muddy 
 wheels which threatened damage to dainty 
 garments ; and the whole was ill-paved 
 and worse-lighted. 
 
 At the corner where it opens a vent for 
 the warehouse traffic of High Street, then 
 stood a handsome new hotel, the Bridge- 
 water Arms, in front of which a semi- 
 circular area was railed off with wooden 
 posts and suspended chains. Within this 
 area, on the bright morning of April the 
 12th, two sentinels were placed, who, 
 marching backwards and forwards, crossed 
 and re-crossed each other in front of the 
 hotel door ; tokens that the Royal Duke 
 and his suite had taken up their quarters 
 within. 
 
 Beyond the semi-circle of chained posts, 
 mounted horsemen kept back the concourse
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 87 
 
 of spectators wHcli pressed closely on tlie 
 horses' heels. Among the crowd was 
 Simon Clegg, with Jabez mounted on his 
 shoulders, albeit he was a somewhat heavy 
 load. Simon was a man of peace, but he 
 was a staunch believer in Eoyalty, and that, 
 quite as much as the spectacle, had drawn 
 him thither. 
 
 It was a mild and cheery April morn ; 
 the windows of the upper room in which 
 sat the Prince, the centre of a brilliant 
 circle, were open, and the loyal multitude 
 feasted their unaccustomed eyes with the 
 sight. As Jabez looked on in a child's 
 ravishment, a little dark-haired, dark- 
 eyed girl, some six or seven years old, 
 turned sharply round the narrow street by 
 the side of the hotel on the flags where 
 there was no chain to bar; passing un- 
 questioned the sentinel on guard, who, 
 seeing only a well-dressed solitary child in 
 white muslin, with a sash and hat-ribbons 
 of pink satin, concluded that she belonged
 
 88 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 to the hotel. Once there, she asked fear- 
 lessly — 
 
 " Where is Prince William ? I want 
 Prince William !" 
 
 Then the sentinel began to question ; 
 but the little maid had but one reply — 
 
 " I want Prince William !" 
 
 The soldier would have turned her back ; 
 but the disputation had attracted attention 
 in the room above. 
 
 An officer's head was thrust out. 
 
 ^'What's the matter ?" asked he. 
 
 *'I want to see the Prince. I want to 
 know " 
 
 " Bid the little lady come up hither." 
 
 And the little lady went up, all un- 
 conscious of state etiquette or ceremonial. 
 
 An officer in rich uniform, with jewels 
 on his breast, took her on his knee, and 
 asked what she wanted with Prince 
 William. 
 
 *' Oh, mamma and my aunts are wanting 
 ever so to know if the review is going to
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 89 
 
 be on Camp Field or on Sale Moor; and 
 Aunt Ellen says it's to be in one place, and 
 mamma tliinks it's the other; and so, as 
 I was dressed first, I just slipped out 
 at the back door, and ran here to ask 
 Prince "William himself, for I thought he 
 would be sure to know." 
 
 The gentleman laughted heartily, and 
 the others followed suit. 
 
 *' And who is your mamma, my dear ?" 
 
 "My mamma is Mrs. Chadwick, and I'm 
 Ellen Chadwick ; and we live in Oldham 
 Street." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! And why are the ladies 
 so anxious to know where the Prince holds 
 the review?" asked the officer on whose 
 knee she sat. 
 
 " Ah — that's just it. If he reviews at 
 Sale Moor, he will go past our house ; and 
 then we shall see all the soldiers from our 
 own windows. Won't it be fine ?" 
 
 Another gentleman asked what the ladies 
 were doing when she left ; and I'm afraid
 
 90 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Ellen made more revelations anent their 
 toilettes than were strictly necessary, for 
 the laughter was prolonged. 
 
 She had not, however, lost sight of her 
 self-imposed mission. Struggling from 
 her seat, she said — 
 
 '' Oh, please do tell me where is Prince 
 William ; I must go home, and I do so 
 want to know." 
 
 " Tell your mamma. Miss Ellen," said he, 
 smiling, '• that the Prince will review at 
 Sale Moor ; and take this, my dear, for 
 yourself," putting a shilling (shillings at 
 that time were perfectly plain from over- 
 long use) in her hand. 
 
 '^ Oh, thank you ! But are you sure — 
 quite sure it is Sale Moor ?" 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 The little damsel set off, as much elated 
 with her news as with her shilling. As 
 she ran briskly down the broad steps, and 
 beyond the barrier, she came in contact 
 with Simon, who made way for her exit ;
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 91 
 
 and, as she looked up smiling to thank liim, 
 her glance rested for a moment on the boy 
 he carried; but no spark of recognition 
 flashed into the eyes of either, and no one 
 in all that crowd saw any connection 
 between that dainty white-frocked, pink- 
 slippered, pink-sashed miss, and the rough 
 lad in the patched suit (a Clough's cast-off) 
 and wooden clogs.
 
 92 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TO MARTIAL MUSIC. 
 
 A SECOND time Jabez and Ellen saw 
 eacli otlier ere tlie day was out. 
 
 She had rushed home with eager feet 
 and eyes, through back streets, to startle 
 Mrs. Chad wick, her newly-married sister, 
 Mrs. Ashton, and a bevy of friends, with 
 the confident assurance that the review 
 would be at Sale, and to confirm it by the 
 display of the plain shilling, which "an 
 osifer had given her." 
 
 New Cross, where the volunteers as- 
 sembled, was not then a misnomer. A 
 market cross occupied the centre space be- 
 tween the four wide thoroughfares, of
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 98- 
 
 wliicli Oldham Street is one ; and the open 
 area was considerable. 
 
 The trumpets' bray, the tramp of troops,. 
 were heard, long before the brilliant caval- 
 cade was set in motion ; and every window 
 — every house in Oldham Street (all good 
 private residences of the Gower Street 
 stamp) held its quota of heads and eyes, 
 and costumes as brilliant as the eyes. 
 
 The house of Mr. Chadwick was situated 
 near the lower end, and commanded a good 
 view of the infirmary, its gardens, and 
 pond in Piccadilly. To-day, however, the 
 royal party and the volunteers, many of 
 whom had friends looking out for them, 
 were the only prospect worth a thought ; 
 and as they marched proudly on, to the 
 gayest of gay tunes, kerchiefs waved, heads 
 nodded, and eyes sparkled with delight and 
 pleasure. 
 
 As the Duke of Gloucester and his suite 
 rode by, their chargers prancing to the 
 music, Ellen, mounted on a chair by the
 
 ^4 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 window, between Mrs. Ashton and her 
 mother, suddenly pointed to an officer in 
 their midst, resplendent with stars and 
 orders, and in an ecstasy of delight scream- 
 ed out — 
 
 " Mamma, mamma ! that's the gentleman 
 that gave me the shilling !" 
 
 The little treble voice pierced even 
 through the clamorous music. A noble 
 head was bowed, a plumed hat was raised, 
 and lowered until it swept the charger's 
 mane. 
 
 " Why, child, that is Prince William !" 
 was the simultaneous exclamation, as all 
 the eyes from all the houses across the 
 street were turned in wonderment to see 
 the Ohadwicks so distinguished ; and Simon, 
 who, still carrying Jabez, was trying to 
 keep pace with the troops, wondered too. 
 Moreover, he recognised the lady and little 
 girl, though seen but once, for he earned 
 his own living, such as it was, and had 
 been too proud to call on the Chadwicks
 
 THE MANCHESTrR MAN. 95 
 
 to say how his daughter fared, lest they 
 should think he sought charity. 
 
 ** Jabez lad, si thi, yon's th' lady and 
 little lass as browt yo' whoam, when yo' 
 went seein' the sodgers afore !" 
 
 And Jabez, from his shoulder-perch, 
 looked up at the little bright-eyed brunette, 
 to remember the white frock and pink 
 ribbons he had seen at the Bridgewater, 
 but nothing beyond. 
 
 The man's exclamation and attitude had 
 at the same time attracted Mrs. Chadwick, 
 who, smiling down on him and Jabez, spoke 
 to Ellen; and she, reminded of the little 
 baby who had been saved from drowning 
 in a cradle, looked down and, in the fulness 
 of her new importance, nodded too. 
 
 The momentary stoppage called forth a 
 loud objurgation as a reminder from Sally 
 Cooper, who was in advance with Matthew 
 and such of her bigger lads as could step 
 out ; and Simon, equally anxious not to 
 lose sight of the royal party, hurried on.
 
 96 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 But Sale Moor is beyond tlie confines of 
 Lancashire, and Simon found tlie five miles 
 stiff walking, with a child nearly six years 
 old on his shoulders, and Master Jabez had 
 to descend from his seat, aud trudge on his 
 own feet. This caused them to lag behind 
 their friends, Sally insisting on Matt's keep- 
 ing up with the soldiers, in order that they 
 might get a good place on the Moor, and 
 they were thus separated. Bess had re- 
 mained at home. Never again could she 
 look on marching troops without a pang. 
 
 Sale Moor was alive with expectant sight- 
 seers. Stands and platforms had been 
 erected for the accommodation of those 
 who could afford and cared to pay, there 
 was a sprinkling of heavy carriages, and a 
 crowd of carts, but the mass of spectators 
 were on foot, vehicular locomotion being 
 of very limited capacity. 
 
 Of these latter were the Coopers and 
 Cleggs, of course. Sally, with the elders 
 of her turbulent brood, had reached the
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 97 
 
 ground in time to be deafened by the score 
 of cannon Lord Wilton's artillery fired as a 
 salute to princedom. She had planted 
 herself firmly against one of the supports 
 of an elevated platform, where the crowd 
 of hero-worshippers was densest. She was 
 tightly jammed and crushed against the 
 woodwork; but what matter? she had a 
 fine sight of the field, and as she watched 
 the evolutions of the volunteers, congratu- 
 lated herself and Matthew on having left 
 "that crawling Olegg an th' brat so far 
 behint." 
 
 Almost as she spoke, there was a faint 
 crackle, then another, and a yielding of the 
 post against which she leaned — a loud 
 crash, a chorus of shrieks, half drowned by 
 music and musketry, and the whole plat- 
 form was down, with the living freight it 
 had borne ; and she was down with it. 
 
 The fashion, wealth, and beauty of Che- 
 shire and South Lancashire had their re- 
 presentatives amongst that struggling, 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 swooning, writhing, shrieking, groaning 
 mass of humanity, heaped and huddled 
 in indiscriminate confusion, with up-torn 
 seats, posts, and draperies. Strange to 
 say, only one person was killed outright — 
 that is, on the spot — for in its downfall 
 the stand bore with it many of the throng 
 beneath. But of the injured and the 
 shaken, those who went to hospital and 
 home to linger long and die at last, history 
 has kept no record. 
 
 Amongst these, this story tells of two — 
 two differing in all but sex. Mrs. Aspi- 
 nall, ever frail and delicate, was borne to 
 her carriage, with whole limbs but in- 
 sensible, her husband and their son Lau- 
 rence both uninjured by her side. Phy- 
 sicians were in attendance, and never left 
 her until she was safely lodged in her own 
 luxurious chamber overlooking Ardwick 
 Green, and could be pronounced out of 
 immediate danger. Sally Cooper, with a 
 sprained ankle, a dislocated shoulder, and
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 99 
 
 many internal bruises, was placed in a light 
 cart on a bed of straw procured from a 
 neighbouring farm, witli another of the 
 injured, and carried to the Manchester In- 
 firmary, to try the skill and the patience of 
 doctors and nurses. 
 
 Neither recovered. The unwounded 
 lady, sorely shaken, succumbed to the shock 
 her nervous system had received; and 
 Master Laurence, already petted and wil- 
 ful, was left to be still farther spoiled by 
 his widowed father and Kitty his mother's 
 old nurse. Sally, strong of frame and 
 will, impatient of pain and of restraint, 
 was restive under the surgeons' hands, and 
 defeated their efforts to ascertain her inju- 
 ries. She exhausted herself with shrieks 
 and cries, tossed about and disturbed band- 
 ages, rejected physic, which she called 
 ^' poison," and soon put her case beyond 
 the cure of physicians. Too late, she be- 
 came sensible of her own folly. Then, 
 when recovery was impossible, she repented 
 
 h2
 
 100 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 of many misdeeds, and of none more than 
 her slander of poor Bess. 
 
 And thus it was. When the mother 
 was taken from the head of Cooper s home, 
 Bessy's kind heart yearned to help the dis- 
 consolate man and his troop of children. 
 Fortunately, the eldest was a girl of six- 
 teen, and there was a younger girl of ten. 
 Both of these had gone out to work, but 
 now Molly had to stay at home and try to 
 keep all right and tight there. And here 
 Bess came to her aid. Without scolding 
 or brawling, she put the girl into the way 
 of doing things quickly and quietly. She 
 encouraged her to persevere, so that her 
 cleanly mother should detect no eye-sores 
 when she came home restored. She tried 
 to persuade the boys to be less refractory, 
 to help, not to irritate, their sister ; and 
 somehow Cooper's home began to miss Sal, 
 much as one misses a whirlwind. 
 
 The kindness of Bess o' Sim's was duly 
 reported to the Infirmary patient, and at
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 101 
 
 first chafed lier sorely. She " hated to be 
 under obligations, and to that lass of o' 
 others." But Bess, leaving her own work 
 — and the loss of an hour meant the loss of 
 an hour's earnings — herself went to see 
 Sally : and such was the influence of her 
 gentle voice and touch that Sally's chagrin 
 imperceptibly wore away. 
 
 Towards the last she grew delirious, 
 raved of Bess and Tom Hulme, and for- 
 giveness, and in the short calm preceding 
 dissolution, confessed to Matt Cooper and 
 the attendant nurse that she had cast a 
 slur on Bess Clegg's good name. Had 
 made Tom Hulme believe that Simon had 
 taken the lass from Skinner s Yard to hide 
 her shame. That everybody in the yard 
 knew that Bess had a child. And that 
 she had bade him inquire for himself. 
 And almost her last word was a hope that 
 Bess would forgive her. 
 
 Matthew Cooper himself hardly forgave 
 his dead wife. How, therefore, should he
 
 102 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 carry this confession to Bess, and ask her to 
 forgive ? He took a medium course ; and 
 after a few days' consideration, while they 
 and the rest of the tanners were eating 
 their " baggin " (a workman's luncheon, so 
 called from the bag it is, or was, usually 
 carried in), sat down beside Simon on a 
 bundle of thick leather, and told him as 
 well sa he was able. 
 
 Simon was troubled; but he was not 
 vindictive. He would have been less than 
 a man had he not been bitter against the 
 cruel woman who had causelessly wrecked 
 his good daughter's life. But he was sorry 
 for Matt, and broke out into no revilings. 
 The woman was dead. The ill she had 
 done had been fearfully punished ; and 
 neither curses nor reproaches could affect 
 her or undo the mischief. 
 
 He left his cheese and jannock on the 
 hides, untasted, drew his hand across his 
 forehead, and went down to the river-side 
 and across the wooden bridge for a breath
 
 THE MANCHESTEB MAN. 103 
 
 of fresli air, and a waft of fresh tliouglit. 
 He was only a rugged tanner, but he had 
 a heart within his breast ; he had a daughter 
 on his hearth with a great wound in her 
 heart, a blast on her good name, and he 
 was called upon to forgive the author of 
 this mischief ! 
 
 Simon had long been used to commune 
 with his own heart. He had built up a 
 wall round it with the leaves of that one 
 book on his bureau ; and, whenever he 
 was in doubt or difficulty, he read the 
 precepts inscribed upon that wall. He 
 went back to Cooper, whose appetite had 
 been no better than his own. 
 
 '' Aw mun think this ower. Matt. Aw 
 connot say aw f urgive yo'r Sal o' at a dash. 
 Hoo's done that as may niver be undone 
 whoile thee an' me's alive ; an' aw connot 
 frame to say as aw furgive her loike o' on 
 a sudden. An' aw mun think it ower 
 before eawt be said to eawr Bess, poor 
 wench 1"
 
 104 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 . A week elapsed before tlie subject was 
 broached again. Then Simon spoke to 
 Matthew as they were leaving the tannery- 
 yard. 
 
 '^ Coom into th' ' Queen Anne ' " (he 
 called it quean), ^' Matt, and have a gill ; 
 awVe summat t' say to thee." 
 
 There was nobody in the tap-room. They 
 sat down to their half -pint horns of ale — 
 times were too hard to afford deeper 
 draughts — and Simon said — 
 
 " AwVe bin thinkin' o' this week, an' as 
 aw connot forgive yo'r Sal, gradely loike, 
 aw'U no put th' same temptation i' th' way 
 of eawr Bess. Hoo'd better think Tum's 
 takken oop wi' some other wench, than ha' 
 th' shame o' knowin' th' lad's toorned her 
 up i' disgrace. Hoo's getten ower th' 
 worst o' her trouble, an' aw'm not sroing to 
 break her heart outreet, and mebbe set her 
 agen little Jabez into th' bargain." 
 
 Matthew could but assent to Simon's pro- 
 position. But Simon had not said his say.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 105 
 
 " But aw'm not gooin to sit deawn wi' 
 my bonds i' mi' lap, an' that great lump o' 
 dirty slutch stickin' to moi lass. Yo' mun 
 help me t' find eawt wheer Tum Hulme's 
 getten to, an' help to set o' straight afore 
 aw forgive yo'r Sal, tho' hoo be dead an 
 gone." 
 
 ^' Wi' o' my heart !" responded Matt ; and 
 he gave his huge hand to Simon in token 
 thereof. 
 
 When the Duke of Gloucester inspected 
 the volunteers at Ardwick on the 30th of 
 September that same year, not one of the 
 people I have here linked together witness- 
 ed the show. 
 
 The blinds were down at Mr. Aspinall's 
 to shut out a sight the like of which had 
 made him a widower ; and within the dark- 
 ened nursery, wilful, obstreperous Laurence 
 fought, and kicked, and bit at old Kitty 
 because she kept him within doors and 
 from the windows, at his father's com- 
 mand.
 
 106 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 There was a christening party in Mosley 
 Street at the Ashtons', at which not only 
 the Ohadwicks, but the Rev. Joshua 
 Brookes — who had that day named the 
 infant Augusta — were present. They had 
 selected a public occasion for their private 
 festival. It was a grand affair. Mr. 
 Ashton was a small- ware manufacturer in a 
 large way of business, his house and ware- 
 house occupying a large block of buildings 
 at the corner of York Street. And the 
 baby Augusta, born the previous month, 
 was a first child, his wife being younger 
 than himself considerably. Miss Ellen, too, 
 was there, her wonderful shilling, through 
 which a hole had been drilled, suspended 
 from her neck like an amulet. 
 
 Simon and Matt had given up their 
 holiday to fruitless inquiries after Tom 
 Hulme ; and Jabez, after a stand-up fight 
 with a boy in the yard, in defence of his 
 kitten, had come to have his bleeding nose 
 and bruised forehead doctored by Bess,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 107 
 
 "who shed over him the tears long gather- 
 ing in their fountains for Tom Hulme's 
 defection. And somehow at that stylish 
 christening feast, where the baby Augusta 
 was a personage of importance almost as 
 great as the celebrated Miss Kilmansegg, 
 the orphan Jabez and his fosterers came on 
 the table for discussion along with the 
 dessert ; Mrs. Ohadwick, Mr. Clough, and 
 Joshua Brookes concurring in the opinion 
 mooted by the lady that something should 
 be done to relieve the worthy tanner and his 
 daughter of the cost and trouble of main- 
 taining the boy, as he grew older and would 
 want educating. That they should talk of 
 the cost of maintenance when bread was a 
 shilling a loaf, was no marvel; but that 
 " education " should be named as a neces- 
 sity for one of "nobody's children," can 
 only be cited as a proof that either the 
 boy's strange introduction to Manchester, 
 or Simon's strange generosity, had excited 
 an interest in both beyond the common run.
 
 108 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Yet that " sometliing " was vague. The 
 only definite and practicable view of the 
 subject was held by Joshua Brookes, and 
 he kept his opinion to himself.
 
 109 
 
 CHAPTER YII.* 
 
 THE EEVEEEND JOSHUA BROOKES. 
 
 JOSHUA BROOKES had a child's love 
 ^ for toffy and other sweetmeats. These 
 he purchased, or obtained without purchase, 
 from an old woman as odd and eccentric 
 as himself, a Mrs. Clowes, who occupied a 
 bow-windowed shop in Half Street, which 
 literally overlooked the churchyard, three 
 or four steep steps having to be mounted 
 by her customers. 
 
 And how numerous were her customers^ 
 and how great the demand for her toffy, 
 lozenges, and "humbugs," may be judged 
 from the fact that her workmen and 
 apprentices used up eight or nine tons of 
 
 * See Appendix.
 
 110 THE MANCHESTER MAJ3. 
 
 sugar every week. Yet slie was only a 
 shop-keeper, and liad begun business in a 
 Tery humble way ; but she was persevering 
 and industrious, and success followed. 
 She was active and energetic, and expected 
 those around her to be the same. Yet 
 she was kind to them, as may be supposed, 
 for she gave every Sunday a good dinner 
 to fourteen old men and women on whom 
 fortune had looked unkindly, waiting upon 
 them herself, and never tasting her own 
 dinner until her pensioners had dined. 
 
 Eegular in her own attendance at the Old 
 Church, she required her household to be 
 regular too, though she left them little 
 enough time to dress — possibly because 
 her own toilette was so scant. The 
 dress in which she presented herself 
 at church was certainly unique for a 
 woman of wealth. Her gown of sober 
 stuff was well worn, a mob-cap (a fashion 
 which came in with the French Revolution) 
 adorned her head, over which, by way of
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. Ill 
 
 bonnet, a brown silk handkercliief was 
 tied. On rare — very rare — occasions, an 
 old black silk bonnet covered all. 
 
 Josbua Brookes, at odds witli his clerical 
 brethren, with his pupils, and half the 
 world besides, was on good terms with 
 Mrs. Clowes. Eough, prompt, and un- 
 compromising was she; rough, irritable, 
 and unmannerly was he ; both unpromising, 
 hard-husked nuts, with sweet and tender 
 kernels. So rough, few ever suspected 
 the soft heart; yet the woman who fed 
 the poor before herself, and the learned 
 clergyman who had a fancy for pigeons, 
 and who cherished the drunken and abusive 
 old crippled shoemaker, his father, to the 
 last, must have intuitively known the inner 
 life of each other. 
 
 The day following Augusta Ashton's 
 christening, it fell within the round of the 
 Eeverend Joshua's duty to read the burial 
 service over a dead townswoman in the 
 churchyard. And now occurred one of
 
 112 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 those incidents in which the ludicrous and 
 the profane blended, and brought impulsive 
 Joshua into disfavour. As was not un- 
 frequently the case, he broke off in the 
 midst of the service, left the mourners 
 and the coffin beside the open grave, 
 threw his legs over the low wall, and, 
 mounting the steps into the confectioner s 
 shop, said, 
 
 " Here, quick, dame ? Give me some 
 horehound drops for my cough." 
 
 On his entrance Mrs Clowes broke off a 
 narrative over which she and her shop- 
 woman were laughing heartily, in order to 
 reach the required drops, which went into 
 a paper without weighing, and for which 
 no payment was tendered. Back he strode 
 over the church wall to resume the in- 
 terrupted ceremonial. 
 
 It must here be remarked that Joshua 
 had remarkably shaggy eyebrows, over- 
 hanging his quick eyes like pent-houses, 
 and that it was the wont of the schoolboys
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 113 
 
 and otliers to annoy him by drawing their 
 fingers significantly over their own. A 
 young sweep sat upon the church wall to 
 witness the funeral, and — ^young imp of 
 Satan that he was ! — he could not forbear 
 drawing a thumb and forefinger over each 
 brow, full in Joshua's sight, just as he 
 reached the passage — "I heard a voice 
 from heaven saying " 
 
 The shaggy eyebrows contracted ; he 
 roared out — 
 
 " Knock that little black rascal off the 
 church wall !" 
 
 The mischievous little blackamoor was 
 off, with a beadle after him; and the 
 eccentric chaplain, whom no sense of irre- 
 verence seemed to strike, concluded the 
 ceremony with rlo further interruption. 
 
 At its close, Mr. Aspinall and another 
 mourner took the clergyman to task for 
 his disrespect to the remains of the de- 
 ceased Mrs. Aspinall, whose obsequies had 
 been so irregularly performed. They said 
 
 VOL. T. I
 
 114 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 nothing of disrespect to tlie Divinity pro- 
 faned ; their own feelings and importance 
 had been outraged, and they forgot all else 
 even by the dust and ashes in the gaping 
 grave; and little Laurence, cloaked and 
 hooded, forgot his grief in watching the 
 chase after the sweep. 
 
 '^ How dare you, sir, give way to these 
 indecencies at the funeral of my wife ? It 
 has been most indecorous and insulting, 
 both to the dead and her afflicted re- 
 latives." 
 
 "She's had Christian burial, hasn't 
 she ?" gruffly interrogated Joshua. 
 
 " Hardly," was the hesitating answer. 
 
 " She's been laid in consecrated ground, 
 and I've read the burial service over her ; 
 what more would you have ? Some folk 
 are never satisfied." 
 
 Emptying half his horehound drops into 
 the hand of Master Laurence, Joshua 
 turned on his heel, went to the chapter- 
 
 1
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 115 
 
 house to disrobe, and then back over the 
 wall to Mrs. Clowes. 
 
 '' I say, dame, you were not at church 
 on Sunday." 
 
 "No, Parson Brookes; I was in Liver- 
 pool." 
 
 " Oh !" grunted he, *' in Liverpool. 
 Sugar-buying, I suppose." 
 
 "Yea; an' a fine joke I've had." 
 
 Joshua pricked up his ears : he did not 
 object to a little fun. 
 
 "You mun know I thought I'd give 
 Brankers, the new sugar-brokers, a trial,- 
 an' I went there and asked to see samples ; 
 but the young whipper-snapper of a sales- 
 man looked at me from top to toe, an', I 
 suppose, reckoned up the value of my old 
 black bonnet, my kerchief an' mutch, an' 
 my old stuff dress, and fancied my pocket 
 must match my gown, for he was barely 
 civil, and didn't seem to care for the 
 trouble o' showin' th' samples. So I bade 
 
 i2
 
 116 THE MANCHESTER MxVN. 
 
 my young man good day, and said I'd 
 call again." 
 
 ''And didn't, I suppose. Just like a 
 woman," put in Joshua. 
 
 " Oh, yea, I did. I borrowed my land- 
 lady's silk gown and fine satin bonnet, and 
 23ut on my lady's manners ; and then Mr. 
 Whipper-snapper could show his samples, 
 and his best manners too. But when I 
 gave my orders by tons, and not hundred- 
 weights, he looked at me, and looked 
 again, as if he thought I'd escaped from a 
 madhouse ; an' at last he began to h'm an' 
 ha, an' talk of large orders, an' cash pay- 
 ment, an' references ; an' I told him to 
 make out th' invoice, and bring it. An' 
 when I pulled out this old leather pocket- 
 book, and counted the bank-notes to pay 
 him down on the nail, good gracious ! how 
 the fellow stared ! I reckon I'll not need 
 to borrow a silk dress when I give my 
 next order. It was as good as a play." ■ 
 
 *'Um! You women-folk think your-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 117 
 
 selves wonderfully clever. But come, I 
 can't waste my time here." (Josliua 
 had heard all he went for.) " Give me 
 quarter-a-pound humbugs; I threw half 
 the other things away," said he. 
 
 ''I don't think it's much you'll throw 
 away, Jotty," replied the old confectioner, 
 with independent familiarity, as she 
 weighed and parcelled the sweets, for 
 which this time he put down the money. 
 
 " It's much you know about it. Mother 
 Clowes," he jerked out, as if throwing the 
 words at her over his shoulder, as he 
 turned to leave the shop, putting the 
 package in one of the large pockets of his 
 long flap waistcoat as he went. 
 
 His own house, not more than three 
 hundred yards away, adjoined the Grammar 
 School : a red-brick building, with stone 
 quoins, now darkened by time and smoke, 
 one gable of which overhung the Irk ; the 
 other, pierced for four small-paned win- 
 dows, almost confronting the antique '' Sun
 
 118 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Inn," at the acute angle of Long Millgate, 
 and quite overlooking an open space flank- 
 ed by tlie main entrance to the College. 
 From this, the east wing of the College, it 
 is separated by a plain iron gateway and 
 palisades on the Millgate side, and by a 
 wall which serves as a screen from the 
 river on the other side ; and the enclosed 
 space between rails, wall, College, and tha 
 front of the school served as a playground 
 for such scholars as were willing to keep 
 within bounds. It was divided into upper, 
 middle, and lower schools, the last being in 
 the basement, and designed for elementary 
 instruction. The high and middle schools 
 together occupied the same long room 
 above this. Joshua Brookes, as second 
 master, presided over the middle school, 
 and surely never M.A. had so thankless an 
 office. He was placed at a terrible disad- 
 vantage in the school, not altogether 
 because he had risen from its lowest ranks 
 — not altogether because a drunken foul-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 119 
 
 mouthed cripple interfered witli their 
 sports, or went reeling to his son's domicile 
 next door — not because he was unduly 
 severe : other masters were that — but be- 
 cause his own eager thirst for knowledge 
 as a boy had made him intolerant towards 
 indolence, incredulous of incapacity ; and 
 his constitutional impatience and irritabil- 
 ity made his harsh voice seem harsher when 
 he reproved a dullard. He lost his self- 
 command, and with that went his command 
 over others. Meaning to be affable to the 
 poor, from whose ranks he sprang, he 
 became familiar ; and they reciprocated the 
 familiarity so fully as to draw down the 
 contempt of his confreres. He was a man 
 to be respected, and they slighted him ; a 
 man to be honoured, and they snubbed 
 him. What wonder, then, that eccentrici- 
 ties grew like barnacles on a ship's keel, or 
 that the boys failed in obedience and respect 
 to a master when their elders set them the 
 example ?
 
 120 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 This defence of a misunderstood man 
 has not taken up a tithe of the time he 
 gave to his refractory class, to whom he 
 went straightway from the confectioner s, 
 whose *' humbugs " had melted considera- 
 bly, not wholly down his own throat, before 
 the hour when the boys closed their Latin 
 Grammars and Greek Lexicons, and poured 
 as if they were mad down the steps, and 
 through the gate, to the road. Yet even 
 the sweets he gave to the attentive did not 
 conciliate : they only made the intractable 
 more defiant ; and even the recipients felt 
 they were bribed. 
 
 Warned by the uproar of a large school 
 in motion, as well as by the long-cased 
 clock, Tabitha, his one servant, had her 
 master's tea ready for him the instant he 
 came in from the school, as he generally 
 did, fagged and jaded, with the growl of a 
 baited bear. 
 
 That day he simply put his head into 
 the house, and bawled, " Tea ready. Tab ?"
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN; 121 
 
 and without waiting for an answer, went on, 
 ^'Keep it hot till I get back;" then, closing 
 the door, took his way eastwards down 
 Long Millgate. His journey was not a 
 long one. It ended at the bottom of a 
 yard where a sad pale-faced young woman 
 was switching monotonously at a mass of 
 downy cotton, and listening at the same 
 time to the equally monotonous drawl of a 
 youngster in the throes of monosyllabic 
 reading. 
 
 *' Get larning, lad ! — get larning ! 
 Larning's a great thing. Yo' shan read i' 
 this big picture-book when you can spell 
 gradely," had been Simon's precept and in- 
 ducement ; and Jabez, to whom that big- 
 pictorial Bible was a mysterious unexplor- 
 ed crypt, did try with all his little might. 
 
 ^' J-a-c-k — Jack, w-a-s — was, a g-o-o-d 
 — good, b-o " 
 
 " And I hope you're a good boy, as well 
 as Jack," said Joshua Brookes abruptly, as 
 he put his head into the room, and put a
 
 122 THE MAXCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 stop to tlie lesson at the same time. " But, 
 heyday " (observing the swollen nose and 
 bruised forehead), ''you've been in the 
 wars. Good boys don't fight." 
 
 ^' Then what did Bill Barnes throw 
 stones at ar pussy for ? Good boys dun- 
 not hurt kitlins/' said Jabez, nothing 
 daunted. 
 
 Bess explained. 
 
 *'Um!"' quoth Joshua, when she had 
 finished, "he's fond of his kitten, is he?" 
 and drawing Jabez towards him by the 
 shoulder, with one finger uplifted as a 
 caution, he looked down on the shrinking 
 child, and said impressively — 
 
 " Xever fight if you can help it, Jabez ; 
 but if you fight to save a poor dumb animal 
 from ill-usage, or to protect the weak 
 against the strong, Jotty Brucks is not the 
 man to blame you. Here, lad," and into 
 the pinafore of Jabez went the remainder 
 of the " humbuors." 
 
 He patted the boy on the head, bade him 
 
 A
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 128 
 
 get on wifh his reading, lie did not know 
 what good fortune might come of it, told 
 him to come regularly to church, to love 
 God and God's creatures, and went away, 
 lea^ang Bess to prepare her father's por- 
 ridge (tea was from twelve to sixteen shil- 
 lings a pound, and beyond their reach). 
 
 Almost on the threshold he encountered 
 Simon. 
 
 " Can't you keep that young sprig out of 
 mischief ? If he begins fighting and quar- 
 relling at six years old, what will he do 
 when he is sixteen ?" he cried, gruffly, as 
 he brushed past the tanner, and was far 
 up -the yard before the man could think of 
 a reply. 
 
 A couple of young pigeons were sent for 
 Jabez about a week after, with a large bag 
 of stale cakes and bread to feed them with. 
 The name of the sender was unknown, but 
 anyone acquainted with the habits of 
 Joshua Brookes (who contracted for Mrs. 
 Clowes's waste pastry, to fill the crops of
 
 124 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 his own feathered colony) would not liave 
 been troubled to guess. 
 
 Simon stroked his raspy chin, and seemed 
 dubious, cost of keep being a question ; but 
 Jabez looked so wistful, his foster-father 
 borrowed tools, and answered the appeal 
 by making a triangular cote for them, 
 and Jabez found fresh occupation in their 
 care. Yet occupation was not lacking, 
 young as he was. He could fetch and 
 carry, run short errands, and help Bess 
 to clean. Their living-room no longer 
 waited a week to be swept and dusted, 
 Jabez did it every day, standing on a chair 
 to reach the top of the bureau, where lay 
 the cynosure of his young eyes. He still 
 took his SuDday lessons in field or stream 
 with Simon, and through the week clamber- 
 ed up from monosyllables to dissyllables 
 with Bess. 
 
 i
 
 125 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE BLUE-COAT SCHOOL. 
 
 npHE children of the poor begin early to 
 -■- earn their bread. Legislature has 
 stepped in to regulate the age and hours 
 for labour in manufacturing districts, and 
 to provide education for the very humblest. 
 Jabez Clegg was not born in these blissful 
 times, and he only narrowly escaped the 
 common lot. 
 
 He was not eight years old, yet Simon, 
 on whom war-prices pressed as heavily as 
 on his neighbours, began to discuss with 
 Bess the necessity for sending the lad to 
 Simpson's factory (where Arkwright's 
 machinery was first set in motion).
 
 126 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 '' He mun goo as sune as the new year 
 taks a fair grip," decided Simon, and 1805 
 was at its last gasp as lie said it. 
 
 But tlie new year brought Jabez a 
 reprieve by the uncourtly hands of Joshua 
 Brookes. Meeting Simon and Jabez at a 
 stall in the Apple-market, where, the 
 better to bargain, he had laid down a pile 
 of old classical school-books (Joshua was a 
 collector of these, which he retailed again 
 to the boys at prices varying with his 
 mood, or his estimate of the purchaser's 
 pocket), he accosted the former. 
 
 "Well, old Leather shanks, what are you 
 going to make of young Cheat-the-fishes 
 there ? I suppose he's to follow your own 
 trade, he began to tan hides so early?" 
 And the glance which shot from under his 
 shaggy brows caused the boy to blush, 
 and shrink behind his protector. 
 
 Simon's eyes twinkled, but he shook his 
 head as he answered : 
 
 "Nay, Parson Bruks, we'n thowt o'
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 127 
 
 senclin' him t' tli' cotton factory; but it 
 fair goos agen th' grain to send th' little 
 chap through th' streets to wark Winter 
 an' Summer, weet or dry, afore th' sun's 
 oop an abeawt his wark. But we conno' 
 keep him bout it — toimes are so bad." 
 
 " H'm ! Then what a stupid old leather- 
 head you must be not to think of the 
 College, where he'd be kept and fed and 
 clothed and educated ! — educated, man — do 
 you hear ?" 
 
 Simon heard, and his eyes again twinkled 
 and winked at the new idea presented to 
 him. 
 
 \' And apprenticed !" he echoed, with a 
 long-drawn, gasping breath. 
 
 " Ay, and apprenticed." 
 
 The parson, cramming his pockets with 
 apples, for which he had higgled with 
 much persistence, handed one to Jabez 
 with the question — 
 
 "■ How would you like to be a College 
 boy, Jabez, and wear a long blue coat, like
 
 128 THE MANCHESTETl MAN. 
 
 that fellow yonder" (pointing to a boy 
 then crossing the market on an errand), 
 " and learn to write and cipher, as well as 
 to read ?" 
 
 " If you please'n, aw'd loike it moore 
 nor eawt." And his animated face was a 
 clearer answer than his words. 
 
 Joshua then read the lad a brief homily 
 to the effect that only good and honourable 
 boys could find admission, winding up with, 
 
 "If you're a very good lad, 111 see what 
 can be done for you." 
 
 He interrupted thanks with — 
 
 " Easter's very near, Sim, so you'll have 
 to stir your stumps to prove that our 
 honourable young friend came honourably 
 into the world. I'll get the forms and fill 
 them up for you, and his baptismal register 
 too." 
 
 He snatched up his books and was off, 
 the tassel of his collegiate cap, and the 
 cassock he wore, flying loose as he hurried 
 away muttering to himself —
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 129 
 
 " Wliat an old fool I am to botlier 
 about the lad ! I daresay he'll turn round 
 and sting me in the end, like the rest of 
 the snakes I have warmed. As great an 
 idiot as old dame Clowes !" 
 
 Chetham's College, or Hospital, is a 
 long, low, ancient stone edifice, built on 
 the rock above the mouth of the Irk, with 
 two arms of unequal length, stretching 
 towards church and town, and embracing 
 a large quadrangle used as a playground, 
 which has for its fourth and southern 
 boundary a good useful garden. 
 
 It is needless to grope upward from 
 the time when the Saxon Theyn built a 
 fortified residence on its site; sufficient 
 for us that Thomas de la "Warr, youngest 
 son of the feudal baron of Manchester, was 
 brought up to the Church, and in the 
 fourteenth century inducted into the 
 Eectory of Manchester, his father being 
 patron. His elder brother dying at the 
 close of the century, the rector (a pious 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE MANCHESTER MAK". 
 
 Churclimaii) became baron. And then lie 
 put his power and wealth to sacerdotal 
 uses. He petitioned the king, obtained a 
 grant to collegiate Christ Church, erected 
 the College, endowed it with lands ; and 
 here at his death the Warden of the Col- 
 legiate Church had his residence. Of 
 these wardens, the celebrated Dr. Dee, 
 whose explorations into alchemy and other 
 occult sciences brought him into trouble 
 with Queen Elizabeth, was one ; and Dr. 
 Dee's room is still extant — in occupation 
 of the governor. 
 
 In 1580, at Crumpsall Hall, Humphrey 
 Chetham was born ; and he, a prosperous 
 dealer in fustians, never marrying, at his 
 own expense fed and clothed a number of 
 poor boys ; and, by his will, not only be- 
 queathed a large sum of money to be ex- 
 pended in the foundation and endowment 
 of a hospital for the maintenance, educa- 
 tion, and apprenticing of forty poor boys 
 for ever, but one thousand pounds to be
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 131 
 
 expended in a library, free to the public — 
 the first free library in Britain! 
 
 Tlie estate was vested in feoffees, and 
 witli them lay the power alike to elect 
 boys and officials. From the townships 
 of Droylsden, Crumpsall, Bolton-le-Moors, 
 and Turton, the boys were to be elected 
 between the ages of six and ten, and were 
 required to be of honest, industrious 
 parents, and neither illegitimate nor dis- 
 eased ; and baptismal registers had to be 
 produced. They had to be well main- 
 tained, well trained, and carefully ap- 
 prenticed at fourteen, a fee of four pounds 
 (a large sum in Humphrey Chetham^s 
 time) being given with them. The church- 
 wardens and overseers were to prepare 
 lists of boys, doubling the number of 
 vacancies, stating their respective claims, 
 which lists they had to sign. 
 
 Easter Monday was the period for 
 election, after which the feoffees dined to- 
 gether in Dr. Dee's quaintly carved room. 
 
 k2
 
 132 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Joslma Brookes was as good as liis 
 word. He procured a blank form from 
 the governor, and, Simon being no great 
 scliolar, filled it in for him. He found 
 him the baptismal register without charging 
 the regulation shilling, got the name of 
 Jabez inserted in the churchwardens' list, 
 and such influence as he had with feoffees 
 he exerted to the utmost, for the case was 
 one involving doubt and difficulty. 
 
 Nor had Simon Clegg been idle. He 
 and his crony Matthew scoured Smedley 
 and Crumpsall, and, more successful than 
 in their quest for Tom Hulme, discovered 
 the nurse who presided at the birth of 
 Jabez. Her testimony, so far as it went, 
 was important. He had interested both 
 Mr. and Mrs. Clough in the election of 
 the foundling, and where the influence of 
 the gentleman failed, that of the lady pre- 
 vailed ; so that when the important Easter 
 Monday arrived, two-thirds of the feoffees 
 were fully acquainted with his peculiar
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 133 
 
 case, and more or less impressed in his 
 favour. 
 
 It was on the 18th of April, bright, 
 sunny, joyous. Compared with its present 
 proportions, Manchester then was but as a 
 cameo brooch on a mantle of green ; and 
 that green was already starred with 
 daisies, buttercups, primroses, and cow- 
 slips. By wells and brooks, daffodil and 
 jonquil hung their heads and breathed out 
 perfume. Bush and tree put out pale buds 
 nnd fans of promise. The tit-lark sang, 
 the cuckoo — to use a village phrase — had 
 ^' eaten up the mud ;" and the town was 
 alive with holiday-makers from all the 
 country round about. 
 
 It was the great College anniversary, not 
 only election day, but one set apart for 
 friends to visit Blue-coat boys already on 
 the foundation, and for the curious public 
 to inspect the Chetham Museum. 
 
 The main entrance in Millgate (said to 
 be arched with the jaw-bone of a whale)
 
 134 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 and the smaller gate on Hunt's Bank, were 
 both thrown open. A stream of people of 
 all grades, in festival array, poured in and 
 out, and College cap and gown seemed to 
 be ubiquitous. 
 
 The pale sad widow or widower, holding 
 an orphan boy by the trembling hand, the 
 uncle or next of kin to the doubly-orphaned 
 candidate, were there, standing in a long 
 line ranged against the building, and repre- 
 senting hopes and fears and eventualities 
 little heeded by the shifting stream of 
 gazers. 
 
 For the previous week Mrs. Clowes and 
 her assistants had been working: nio^ht and 
 
 CD O 
 
 day : her shop was in a state of siege. 
 Every boy, and every boy's friend, seemed 
 to have pocket-money to spend, and to want 
 to spend it over her counter. Then 
 it was the great wedding-day of the 
 year, and the church-yard swarmed like a 
 hive ; from every one of the many public- 
 houses round College and church, music
 
 THE MANCHESTER I/IAN. 135 
 
 and mirth, clattering feet, and loud-voiced 
 laughter issued. " The Apple Tree," 
 '' The Pack Horse," '' The Ring o' Bells," 
 ^' The Blackamoor s Head," were filled to 
 repletion with wedding-guests ; whilst the 
 '' College Inn," and the old " Sun Inn," 
 held a less boisterous quota of the Colle- 
 gians' friends and relatives. 
 
 On those wet days when out-door play- 
 was impossible, the boys — besides darning 
 their stockings — occupied their spare hours 
 in carving spoons and apple-scrapers out 
 of bone, in working balls and pincushions 
 with coloured worsted in fanciful devices, 
 and a stitch locally known as '^ colleging ;'' 
 and with these, on Easter Monday and at 
 "Whitsuntide, they reaped a harvest of 
 pocket-money, having liberty to offer them 
 for sale. And when it is remembered that 
 our notable female ancestors, poor and 
 rich, wore indoors a pincushion and sheath- 
 ed scissors suspended at their sides, it is 
 not to be wondered that these found
 
 136 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 ready purcliasers as memorials of the visit. 
 
 But in that College Yard were anxious 
 and expectant as well as buoyant faces. 
 And there in that line, waiting to be called 
 when their turn came, stood Jabez between 
 Simon Clegg and Bess, with Matthew and 
 the nurse on either hand. And ever and 
 anon their eyes went up to the oriel window 
 which faced the main entrance, for in the 
 room it lighted the arbiters of the boy's 
 destiny sat in judgment on some other 
 orphan's claim. At length the summons 
 came for " Jabez Clegg." 
 
 With palpitating hearts — for any body of 
 men with irresponsible powers is an awful 
 tribunal — they passed under the arched por- 
 tal at the western angle of the building, fol- 
 lowing their guide past the doors of the great 
 kitchen on the right hand, and Dr. Dee's 
 room and the boys' refectory on the left, 
 up the wide stone staircase, with its mass- 
 ive carved oak balusters, along the gallery, 
 at once library and museum, where gaping
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 137 
 
 toliday-folk followed a Blue-coat cicerone 
 past shelves and glass cases, and compart- 
 ments separated for readers' quiet study by 
 carven book-shelf screens, hearing but 
 heeding little of the parrot-roll the boys 
 checked off : " Here's Oliver Crummle's 
 sword ; theer's a loadstone ; theer's a hairy 
 mon ; theer's the skeleton of a mon ;" and 
 so forth, but following their own guide to 
 the nail-studded oaken door of the feoffees' 
 room — that door which might open to hope, 
 only to close on disappointment. 
 
 The feoffees' room — now the reading- 
 room of the library — deserves more than a 
 passing notice. It is a large, square, 
 antique chamber, with a deeply recessed 
 oriel window, opposite the door, containing 
 a table and seats for readers. There are 
 carved oak buffets of ancient date, ponder- 
 ous chairs, and still more ponderous tables, 
 one of which is said to contain as many 
 pieces as there are days in a year. Dingy- 
 looking portraits of eminent Lancashire
 
 138 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 divines stare at you from the walls ; but 
 the left-hand wall contains alone the 
 benevolent presentment of Humphrey 
 Chetham, the large-hearted, clear-headed 
 founder. Its place is over the wide chim- 
 ney-piece, which holds an ample grate ; 
 and on either hand it is flanked by the 
 carved effigy of a bird, the one a pelican 
 feeding its young brood with its own 
 blood, the other a cock, which is said (and 
 truly) to crow when it smells roast beef. 
 
 But we smell the feoffees' dinner, and 
 must not delay the progress of Jabez and 
 his friends. A large body of feoffees were 
 present, many in the uniforms of their 
 special volunteer regiments. 
 
 " So this is the little fellow who was 
 picked up asleep in a cradle during the 
 flood of August, 1799," observed rather 
 than inquired one of the gentlemen, who 
 appeared to be spokesman. 
 
 "Yoi, yo'r honours," answered Simon, 
 making a sort of bow.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 139 
 
 " Who can bear witness to that ?" 
 
 " Aw con " — " An aw con," responded 
 Simon and Matt Cooper in a breath. '' It 
 wur uz as got him eawt o' th' wayter." 
 
 " Anyone else ?" 
 
 Bessy stepped forward modestly. 
 
 '* He wur put i' moi arms on Tanners' 
 Bridge, an awVe browt him oop iver sin'.'*^ 
 " Have you never sought for hi& 
 parents ?" 
 
 "Ay, mony a time. Matt an' me have 
 spent mony a day i' seekin' 'em," said 
 Simon promptly, " an we could fand no 
 moore than that papper tells" — referring 
 to a sheet in the questioning feoffee's hand. 
 
 " Then how do you date the boy's age 
 with such precision ?" 
 
 The nurse now sidled confidently to the 
 front. 
 
 " If it please your honour's worship, aw 
 wur called to stiff-backed Nan's dowter in 
 the last pinch, when hoo wur loike to die, 
 an' that little chap wur born afore aw left;
 
 140 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 an' that wur o' tli' fiftli o' May, seventeen 
 hundred an noinety-noine. Aw know it, 
 fur aw broke mi arm th' varry next day." 
 
 "And the mother died." 
 
 " Yea ! — afore the week wur eawt." 
 
 " And you think she was lawfully mar- 
 ried ? Where was her husband ?" 
 
 " Ay ! that's it. Hoo had a guinea-goold 
 weddin-ring on ; an' owd Nan said it wur a 
 sad thing th' lass had ever got wedded, an' 
 moore o' the same soort. An' aw geet 
 eawt o' her that they'n bin wedded at 
 Crumpsall, an' a' th' neebors knew as th' 
 husbant had had a letter to fatch him to 
 Liverpool, an' had niver come back. Ony- 
 body i' Smedley knows that !" 
 
 "And you think they were honest, 
 industrious people ?" 
 
 "Ay, that they were, but rayther stiff 
 i' th' joints, yo' know — seemed to think 
 theirsel's too good to talk to folk like ; or 
 mebbe we'd ha' known th' lad's neame an'
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 141 
 
 o' belongin' to him. They owed nobbodj 
 nowt, an' aw wur paid fur moi job." 
 
 Jabez was called forward and examined,, 
 and he came pretty well out of the fire. 
 They found that he could read a little, 
 knew part of his catechism, and they saw 
 that he was a well-behaved, intelligent 
 boy, with truthful dark grey eyes and a 
 reflective brow. 
 
 There was a long and animated dis- 
 cussion, during which the boy and his 
 friends were bidden to retire. It was 
 contended that the marriage of the boy's 
 parents was not proven — that his very 
 name was dubious, — and that the founder's 
 will was specific on that head. 
 
 Then one of Mrs. Clough's friends rose 
 and grew eloquent. He asked if they 
 were to interpret the will of the great and 
 benevolent man, whose portrait looked 
 down upon them, by the spirit or by the 
 letter? If they themselves did not feel
 
 142 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 that the boy was eligible, as tlie nurse's 
 testimony went to prove ? That this was 
 a case peculiarly marked out for their 
 charitable construction. And he wound 
 up by inquiring if they thought Humphrey 
 Chetham would expect his representatives 
 to be less humane, less charitable, less 
 conscientious, in dealing with a bounty 
 not their own, than that poor, struggling, 
 hard-working tanner and his daughter, 
 who had maintained and cherished the 
 orphan in spite of cruelly hard times, and 
 still more cruel slander. And then he 
 told, as an episode, what Sally Cooper 
 had confessed, and how and why Bess had 
 lost her lover. 
 
 This turned the quivering scale. ^^ Jabez 
 Clegg and his friends " were called in ; the 
 verdict, which turned the current of his 
 life, was pronounced — Jabez Olegg was a 
 Blue-coat boy ! 
 
 Before the night was out, while the
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 143 
 
 flood-gates of all their hearts were open, 
 Matthew Cooper, though nearly twenty 
 years her senior, asked Bess to be his 
 wife !
 
 144 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SNiiKE. 
 
 TTOWEYER ambitious either Jabez or 
 -^-■- his kind fosterers had been to see 
 him a Blue-coat boy, the parting between 
 them was a terrible wrench. They were 
 to him all the friends or parents he had 
 ever known. 
 
 Then there were his playmates in the 
 yard, with liberty to run in and out at 
 will ; and lastly, there were his dumb pets 
 — his kitten (grown to a cat), his pigeons, 
 and the lame linnet, hopping from perch 
 to finger, and paying him for his love with 
 the sweetest of songs. 
 
 He was not more stunned by the noise
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 145 
 
 and Easter Monday bustle in the College 
 Yard, or more awed by tlie imposing 
 presence of Governor Terry and the feof- 
 fees, than by the magnitude, order, and 
 antique grandeur of the building henceforth 
 to be his home. Nevertheless, wide open 
 as the great gates were for the day, he 
 felt that they would close, and shut him in 
 among the cold stone walls and strangers, 
 never to see his pets or his loving friends 
 again until Whitsuntide should bring an- 
 other holiday. 
 
 They, older, more experienced, with a 
 better knowledge of all the boy would 
 gain — all the privation and premature 
 labour he would escape, — felt only how 
 dull their humble home would be without 
 the willing feet and hands, the smiling 
 face, and the cheerful voice of the sturdy 
 little fellow who for more than seven years 
 had been as their own child. 
 
 He had given his last charge respecting 
 his furry and feathered brood, exchanged 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 the last clinging embrace under the dark 
 arch, then tore away in quest of a deserted 
 corner, where he might hide the tears 
 he could not wholly restrain. 
 
 At first the new dress of which he was 
 so proud, the blue stockings and clasped 
 shoes in place of clogs, the yellow baize 
 petticoat, the long-skirted blue overcoat or 
 gown, the blue muffin-cap, the white cleri- 
 cal band at the throat (all neat, and fresh, 
 and unpatched as they were), felt awkward 
 and uncomfortable — the long petticoat 
 especially incommoded him. But in a few 
 days this wore off. There were other lads 
 equally strange and unaccustomed to robes 
 and rules. Fellow-feeling drew them to- 
 wards each other, and with the wonderful 
 adaptability of childhood, they fell into the 
 regular grooves, and were as much at home 
 as the eldest there in less than a fortnight. 
 And from the Chetham Gallery in the Old 
 Church he could see and be seen by Simon 
 and Bess, on Sabbath mornings, from the
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 147 
 
 free seats in the aisle, and that contented 
 them. 
 
 The training and education of the Chet- 
 ham College boys was, and is, conducted 
 on principles best adapted for boys expect- 
 ed to fight their own way upwards in the 
 world. They were not cumbered with a 
 number of " ologies " and '* isms " (the 
 highest education did not stand on a par 
 then with the moderate ones of this day) ; 
 their range of books and studies was 
 limited. Reading, writing, and arithmetic, 
 sound and practical information, alone were 
 imparted, so much as was needed to fit the 
 dullest for an ordinary tradesman, and 
 supply the persevering and intelligent with 
 a fulcrum and a lever. JSTor did their educa- 
 tion end with their lessons in the school- 
 room, nor was it drawn from books and 
 slates alone. 
 
 Their meals were regular, their diet pure 
 and ample, but plain. They rose at six, 
 began the day with prayer, and retired to 
 
 l2
 
 148 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 rest at eiglit. Besides their duties in tlie 
 school-room, they darned their own stock- 
 ings, made their own beds, helped the 
 servants to keep their rooms clean, and six 
 of the elder boys were set apart to run 
 errands, and carry messages beyond the 
 precincts of the College. 
 
 Strength of muscle and limb were gained 
 in the open courtyard in such games as 
 trap and football ; patience and ingenuity 
 had scope in the bead purses, the carv- 
 ed apple-scoops and marrow-spoons, the 
 worsted balls and pincushions they made 
 to fill their leisure hours indoors. There 
 was no idleness. Their very play had its 
 purpose. 
 
 Let us set Jabez Clegg under the kind 
 guardianship of Christopher Terry, the 
 governor, and under the direct supervision 
 of the Reverend John Gresswell, the school- 
 master, to con his Mavor, and make pot- 
 hooks-and-ladles, on a form in the large 
 school-room at the west end of the College ;
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. U9 
 
 and to rise, step by step, up the first diffi- 
 €ult rungs of that long ladder of learning 
 which may indeed rest on our common 
 earth, but which reaches far above the 
 clouds and human ken. 
 
 Christmas and Midsummer vacations 
 came and went, so did those red-letter days 
 of his College life, Easter and Whitsuntide, 
 when he was free to rush to the old yard, 
 so near at hand, and after hugging Bess 
 and Simon, whom he astonished with liis 
 learning, could assure himself his dumb 
 family had been well cared for. 
 
 And if those passing seasons traced 
 deeper lines on Simon's brow, gave more 
 womanly solidity to Bess's form and charac- 
 ter, they brought no change the foundling 
 could mark. Tom Hulme's whereabouts 
 was still undiscovered. Matt Cooper was 
 still a widower. But they and his masters 
 could note the steady progress he made, and 
 his chivalrous love of truth and sense of 
 honour shown in many ways in little things.
 
 150 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 Yet there was one event a grief to him. 
 His little brown linnet pined for its young 
 friend, and died before the first Whitsunday 
 came. 
 
 He was not much over ten years old 
 when he was proved to possess courage, as 
 well as truth and honour. 
 
 For some time Nancy, the cook, had 
 observed that the cream was skimmed 
 surreptitiously from the milk-pans in the 
 dairy, that the milk itself was regularly 
 abstracted, and she was loud in complaint. 
 She could scarcely find cream enough to 
 set on the governor's table, and servants 
 and schoolboys were in turn accused of 
 being the depredators. 
 
 Complaints were made to Mr. Terry ; 
 servants and boys were alike interrogated 
 and watched, and punished on suspicion; 
 but nothing could be proved, and no pre- 
 cautions could save the milk. The lofty 
 and spacious kitchen had its entrance 
 almost under the porch, and close beside it
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 151 
 
 was a flight of stone steps leading to the 
 dairy, a cellar below the kitchen, lit by a 
 small window high up on the side towards 
 the river, and of course opposite to the steps. 
 
 Stone tables occupied the two other 
 sides, on which were ranged a number of 
 wide shallow pans of good milk. In the 
 extreme corner at right angles with the 
 door at the head of the stairs was another 
 entrance, a small oaken door in a Gothic 
 frame, which opened on another and 
 shorter flight of steps, cut in the rock and 
 washed by the river, which sometimes rose 
 and beat against the cellar door for admis- 
 sion, beat so oft and importunately as to 
 wear away the oak where it met the floor. 
 
 It was nearly breakfast time. Long 
 rows of wooden bowls and trenchers were 
 ranged on the white kitchen table. The 
 oatmeal porridge was ready to pour out. 
 The cook ran short of milk. Through a 
 window overlooking the yard, she espied
 
 152 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Jabez, whip in hand, driving a biped team 
 of play-horses. 
 
 '• Jabez, Jabez Clegg !" she called out at 
 the pitch of her voice, " come hither." 
 
 Down went the reins, and the prancing 
 steeds proceeded without a driver. 
 
 '* Fetch a can of milk from the cellar, 
 Jabez ; an' look sharp. An' see as yo' 
 dunna drink none !" 
 
 ''I never do," said Jabez, not over- 
 pleased at the imputation. 
 
 " Well, see as yo' don't, for some on yo' 
 do." 
 
 Jabez took the bright tin can, without 
 putting down the whip, and descended the 
 unguarded cellar stairs, whistling as he 
 went. He gave a jump down the last few 
 steps, and to his utter surprise, I cannot 
 say dismay, saw that he had disturbed a 
 great greenish-brown snake spotted with 
 black, and having a yellowish ring round 
 its neck. It lay coiled on the stone table 
 opposite to him, and with its head elevated
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAX. 153 
 
 above tlie rim of a milk-pan was taking its 
 morning draught, and in so doing reckon- 
 ing without its host. 
 
 " Oh, you're the thief, are you, Mr. 
 Snake ! It's you've robbed us of our milk, 
 and got us boys thrashed for it !" cried 
 Jabez, without a thought of danger, plant- 
 ing himself between the culprit and the 
 small postern door, as the snake, gliding 
 from the slab, turned hither for exit, put- 
 ting out its forked tongue and hissing at 
 him as it came. 
 
 Without thought or consideration — with- 
 out a cry of alarm to those above, he struck 
 at the threatening foe with his whip ; and 
 as the resentful snake darted at him, 
 jumped nimbly aside, and struck and struck 
 again ; and as the angry snake writhed and 
 twisted, and again and again darted ,its 
 frightful head at him with distended jaws, 
 he whipped and whipped away as though a 
 top, and not a formidable reptile had been 
 before him.
 
 154 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Cook, out of patience, called "Jabez 
 Clegg !" more than once, in anything but 
 satisfactory tones ; and then, patience ex- 
 hausted, came to the top of the dairy 
 stairs. Then she heard Jabez, as if ad- 
 dressing some one, say, " Oh, you would, 
 would you !" and the commotion having 
 drawn her so far down the steps that she 
 could peer into the cellar and see what was 
 going on, she set up a prolonged scream. 
 This was just as Jabez, shifting the posi- 
 tion of his whip, brought the butt-end 
 down on the head of the snake with all the 
 force of his stout young arm, and his ex- 
 hausted foe dropped, literally whipped to 
 death. 
 
 The woman's screams brought not only 
 the governor and the school-master, but 
 Dr. Stone, the librarian, to the spot. And 
 there stood Jabez, all his prowess gone, 
 with his back towards them, his head down 
 on his arms, which rested on the stone
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 155 
 
 slab, sobbing violently for tlie very life lie 
 had just destroyed. 
 
 " Oh, he's bin bitten — he's been bitten ! 
 the vemonous thing's bitten the lad ! He'll 
 die after it !" cried the cook in an ecstasy 
 of terror. 
 
 "Stand aside, Nancy," said Dr. Stone; 
 *' that snake is not venomous. If I mis- 
 take not, the brave boy's heart is wounded, 
 not his skin." 
 
 And, coming down, the kind, discerning 
 librarian lifted the snake with the one 
 hand, and took hold of Jabez with the 
 other, simply saying to him — 
 
 " Come into the governor's room, Jabez^ 
 and tell us all about it." 
 
 And Jabez, drying his red eyes on the 
 cuff of his coat, was ushered before the 
 Doctor up the stairs, and into the gover- 
 nor's room, where breakfast was laid for 
 the three gentlemen. There he briefly 
 told how he had found the snake drinking
 
 156 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 the milk ; and having intercepted the 
 reptile's retreat, had been obliged, in self- 
 defence, to fight with it until he had 
 whipped it to death — a consummation as 
 unlooked for as regretted. 
 
 He had not, as at first surmised, escaped 
 unwounded in the contest ; but, as Dr. 
 Stone had said, and the surgeon who 
 dressed the bites confirmed, the terrible- 
 looking reptile was but the common 
 ringed-snake, which takes freely to the 
 water; and its bite was harmless. From 
 the dais in the refectory both snake and 
 whip were exhibited to the boys after 
 breakfast. 
 
 ''My lads," said the governor, ''I dare- 
 say you will all be glad to know that the 
 thief who stole the milk has been taken." 
 
 There was a general shout of assent, 
 with here and there a wondering glance at 
 the vacant seat of Jabez, who, having his 
 wounds washed and bound up, had not sat 
 down with them, but had a sort of com-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAX. 157 
 
 plimentary breakfast with the servants in 
 the kitchen. 
 
 ''And I daresay you would like to see 
 the thief, and know how he was caught." 
 
 There was another general " Ay, ay, 
 sir !" 
 
 "Well, here he is," (and he held the 
 snake aloft) ; " but I don't think any of 
 you will be thrashed on his account again. 
 Jabez Clegg, here" (and he pulled the 
 reluctant boy forward by the shoulder), 
 " caught the sly robber drinking the milk, 
 and, with nothing but this whip and a 
 fearless resolute arm, put a stop to his 
 depredations, and restored the lost 
 character of the school." 
 
 There was a loud hurrah for Jabez 
 Clegg, who for the time being was a hero. 
 Then, the snake being carried to the 
 school-room, the Rev. John Gresswell im- 
 proved the occasion by a lesson on snakes 
 in general, and that one in particular. 
 But when he dissipated the popular belief
 
 158 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 that all snakes were venomous, and as- 
 sured the bojs that the bite of this was 
 innocuous, more than one of the Blue- 
 coated lads thought Jabez was not such a 
 hero after all. 
 
 The heads of the College thought other- 
 wise. The snake, and whip also, were 
 placed high up against a wall in the 
 College museum, close beside the " woman's 
 clog which was split by a thunderbolt, and 
 hoo wasn't hurt." They made part of the 
 catalogue of the Blue-coat guides — nay, 
 even Jabez may have run the rapid chroni- 
 cle from the reel himself ; but the pain 
 and shock of having wilfully killed a living 
 creature neutralised and prevented the 
 harm which mio-ht have followed self- 
 glorification. 
 
 The long unknown secret spoiler of the 
 dairy had been such a blemish on the 
 spotless character of the Chetham Hospital 
 — such a scandal in its little world — that 
 its capture became of sufficient importance
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN: 159 
 
 for Dr. Thomas Stone to communicate to 
 the Reverend Joshua Brookes on his next 
 visit to the library, Jabez being considered 
 a sort of protege of his. 
 
 Before the day was out the parson 
 found his cough troublesome, and of course 
 went to Mrs. Clowes for horehound-drops. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of young 
 Cheat-the-fishes now ?" came raspily from 
 his lips, as he leaned on the counter, 
 evidently prepared for a gossip — shop- 
 chairs being unheard-of superfluities in 
 those days. 
 
 Mrs. Clowes knew perfectly well whom 
 the parson meant by "young Cheat-the- 
 fishes " ; indeed, the boy, on his rare 
 holidays, had been a customer, as were 
 the boys of College and Grammar School 
 generally. 
 
 " Now ! Why, what's th' lad been 
 doing ? . Naught wrong, I reckon ?" 
 
 You see she had faith in the boy's open 
 countenance.
 
 160 THE MANCHESTER MAN". 
 
 "Humpli! that's as folk tliink," he 
 growled, keeping his own opinion to him- 
 self. '' I don't suppose I need to tell you 
 the hubbub there's been over there " (jerk- 
 ing his finger in the direction of the 
 College) "about the stolen milk? That 
 tale's old enough." 
 
 Mrs. Clowes nodded her mob-cap in 
 assent. 
 
 ''Well, that lad Jabez found a snake, 
 four feet long, with its head in the milk- 
 pans the other morning. The sly thief 
 turned spiteful, and the two had a battle- 
 royal all to themselves in the cellar. The 
 pugnacious rapscallion had a whip in his 
 hand, and he — lashed the snake to death !" 
 
 Mrs. Clowes echoed his last words, and 
 uplifted her hands in amazement. A 
 snake was a terrible reptile to her. 
 
 " Ah ! and then blubbered like a cry-a- 
 babby because he had killed it ! What do 
 you think of that, Dame Clowes ?" 
 
 '* Eh ! I think he was a brave little chap
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 161 
 
 to face a sarpent, but I think a fine sight 
 more of his blubbering, as you call it," 
 said she, taking a tin canister from a 
 shelf, and putting it on the counter with 
 an emphatic bounce. 
 
 "Ah! I thought I could match the 
 young fool with an old one," said he 
 derisively, to hide his own satisfaction, as 
 he took his short legs to the door. 
 
 But Mrs. Clowes called him back, put a 
 large paper parcel in his hand, and said, 
 
 " Here, Jotty, see you give these sweet- 
 meats to your cry-a-babby, and tell him an 
 old woman says there's no harm in fighting 
 in self-defence with any kind of a snake, 
 or for his own good name, or to protect 
 the helpless ; but, if he fights just to show 
 off his own bravery, he's a coward. And 
 you tell him from me never to be ashamed 
 of tears he has shed in repentance for 
 injury he may have done to any living 
 thing. Now see you tell him, parson ; 
 
 VOL. T. M
 
 162 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 and maybe my preachment may be worth 
 more to liim than my cakes and toffy, or 
 your sermons." And she nodded her head 
 till her cap-border flapped like a bird's 
 wings. 
 
 *' Ugh ! dame, you 11 be for wagging that 
 tongue and mutch of yours in my pulpit 
 next," said he, gruffly. 
 
 But he delivered the parcel and the 
 *' preachment " both faithfully, and, more- 
 over, turned over his stores of old school 
 books for a Latin grammar, which he put 
 into the hand of Jabez, with a promise to 
 instruct the boy in the language, if he 
 would like to learn. 
 
 Forthwith Jabez, not caring to seem un- 
 gracious, though without any special liking 
 for the task, had to encroach upon his play- 
 hours for a new study, under-rated by the 
 pupil, over-rated by the teacher. 
 
 Could Joshua Brookes have put mathe- 
 matical instruments within his reach, or
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAX. 163 
 
 given him pencils and colours, the boy's 
 eyes would have sparkled, and study been 
 a pleasure. 
 
 m2
 
 164 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FIRST ANTAGONISM. 
 
 rpHE extensive oblong enclosure known 
 -*- as Ardwick Green, situated at the 
 south-eastern extremity of the town, on the 
 left-hand side of the highway to Stockport 
 and London, was in 1809 part of a subur- 
 ban village, and from Piccadilly to a 
 blacksmith's forge a little beyond Ardwick 
 Bridge, fields and hedges were interspersed 
 with the newly-erected houses along Bank 
 Top. 
 
 The Green, studded here and there with 
 tall poplars and other trees, was fenced 
 round with quite an army of stumpy 
 wooden posts some six feet apart, con-
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 165 
 
 nected by squared iron rods, a barrier 
 against cattle only. A long, sliglitly 
 serpentine lake spread its shining waters 
 from end to end within the soft circlet of 
 green ; and this grassy belt served as a 
 promenade for the fashionable inhabitants. 
 And there must have been such in that 
 village of Ardwick early in the century, as 
 now, for the one bell in the tiny turret of 
 St. Thomas's small plain red-brick chapel, 
 rang a fashionable congregation into its 
 neat pews, to listen to the well-toned organ 
 and the devoutly-toned voice of the per- 
 petual curate, the Eeverend R. Tweddle, 
 if we may credit an historian of the time. 
 
 Red-brick church, red-brick houses, hard 
 and cold outside, solid and roomy and com- 
 fortable within as Georgian architecture 
 ever was, overlooked green and pond, but 
 luckily overlooked them from a reasonable 
 distance, and, moreover, did not elbow each 
 other too closely, but were individually set 
 in masses of foliage, which toned down the
 
 166 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 staring brickwork. Time and smoke have 
 done so more effectually since. 
 
 One of the best, and best-looking, of 
 these houses, near the church, was the one 
 in which the delicate Mrs. Aspinall had 
 presided for a few brief years. An iron 
 palisade, enclosing a few shrubs and ever- 
 greens, separated it from the wide road- 
 way, but behind the screen of brick ran a 
 formal but extensive garden and orchard, 
 well kept and well stocked, with a fish-pond 
 as formal in the midst. 
 
 Fish-ponds encourage damp, and damp 
 encourages frogs, efts, and their kin. Here 
 they abounded, and Master Laurence had a 
 sort of instinctive belief that they were 
 created solely for his sport and amusement. 
 Mr. Aspinall, his father, immersed in 
 business during the day and occupied with 
 friends at home or abroad until late hours 
 at night, saw very little of his son, who was 
 thus consigned to servants during those 
 hours not spent, or supposed to be spent,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 167 
 
 at a preparatory scliool close at hand. 
 
 The boy was quick and intelligent, had 
 his mother's amber curls and azure eyes, 
 her delicate skin and brilliant colour, but 
 the handsome face had more of the father 
 therein, and was too unformed to brook 
 description here. 
 
 What he might have been with other 
 training is not to be told, but, under the 
 supposition that he inherited his mother's 
 fragile constitution, he had been woefully 
 spoiled and pampered. Opposition to his 
 will was forbidden. 
 
 " Bear with him, Kitty, for my sake, and 
 do not thwart him, or you will break his 
 fine spirit," had been Mrs. Aspinall's dying 
 charge to her old nurse ; and as every 
 demonstration of temper was ascribed by 
 both parents to this same "fine spirit," 
 what wonder that he grew up masterful — 
 and worse ? 
 
 His imperious disposition early ingrati- 
 ated him into the favour of Bob, his father's
 
 168 THE MAKOHESTEE MAN. 
 
 groom ; and this man, thinking no evil, 
 ignorantly sowed the seeds of cruelty in his 
 young heart. 
 
 When the horses were singed, the boy was 
 allowed to be a spectator ; if a whelp had 
 its ears cropped, or the end of its tail bitten 
 off, he was treated to a sight. If a brood 
 of kittens or a litter of puppies had to be 
 drowned, Master Laurence was sure to be 
 in at the death. He was taken to surrep- 
 titious cock-fights and rat-hunts; and 
 though, when too late, Mr. Aspinall turned 
 the man away for inclining his son to " low 
 pursuits," nothing was said or done to 
 counteract these lessons of cruelty ! No 
 wonder, then, that to him the sight of 
 pain inflicted brought pleasure, or that 
 inhumanity went hand in hand with self- 
 will. 
 
 One incident — a real one — will suffice to 
 show what Laurence Aspinall was, when 
 Jabez Clegg shed tears over the snake he 
 had killed perforce.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 1G9 
 
 Kitty was in the kitclien alone. The 
 maids were in other parts of the house. She 
 was sitting close to a blazing fire on account 
 of her " rheumatics," and was in a doze. 
 The evening was drawing in. Master 
 Laurence, coming direct from the garden and 
 the fish-pond, burst open the kitchen door 
 with a whoop which made Kitty start from 
 her nap in a fright. Thereupon he set up a 
 loud laugh, as the poor old woman held 
 her hand to her side, and panted for breath. 
 In his hand was his pocket-handkerchief, 
 tied like a bundle, in which something 
 living seemed to move and palpitate. They 
 were young frogs, in various stages of 
 development. 
 
 ''Now, Kitty," said he, '' I'll show you 
 some rare sport !" and taking one of the 
 live frogs out of the handkerchief delib- 
 erately threw it into the midst of the glow- 
 ing fire. 
 
 "There, Kitty; did you hear that?" 
 cried he in rapture, as the poor animal
 
 170 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 uttered a cry of agony alraost liumarij 
 whilst lie danced on the hearth like a 
 frantic savage round a sacrificial fire. 
 
 "Oh, Master Laurence! Master Lau- 
 rence ! don't do that — don't be so cruel !" 
 appealed Kitty, piteously. 
 
 But he had drawn another forth, and 
 crying, " Cruel ! It's fun, Kitty — fun 1" 
 tore it limb from limb, and threw it piece- 
 meal into the blaze. 
 
 '^ There's another ! and there's another !" 
 he shouted in glee, as the rest followed in 
 swift succession ; and Kitty, shrieking in 
 pain and horror, ran from the kitchen, 
 bringing the cook and housemaid down- 
 stairs with her cries. 
 
 For the first time in his life Mr. Aspinall 
 administered a sound castigation to his 
 son, regretting that he had not done it 
 earlier. 
 
 No more was said of his son's fine spirit ; 
 but, prompt to act, he lost no time in seek- 
 ing his admission into the Free Grammar
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 171 
 
 School ; and either to spare him the lon^ 
 daily walk in tenderness for his health 
 (Ardwick was more than a mile away), or 
 to place him under strict supervision, 
 boarded Laurence with one of the masters. 
 
 Yet he gave that master no clue to his 
 son's besetting sin ; so he was left free to 
 tantalise and torment every weaker crea- 
 ture within his orbit, from the school- 
 master's cat, which he shod with walnut- 
 shells, to the youngest school-boy, whose 
 books he tore and hid, whose hair he 
 pulled, whose cap and frills he soused in 
 the mud. 
 
 It was a misfortune for himself and others 
 that his pocket-money was more abundant 
 than that of his fellows. Never had the 
 apple- woman or Mrs. Clowes a more lavish 
 customer, or one who distributed his pur- 
 chases more freely. Boys incapable of 
 discriminating between generosity and 
 profusion dubbed him generous ; and that, 
 coupled with his handsome face and spirited
 
 172 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 bearing, wHicli they mistook for courage, 
 l)rouglit Hm partisans. 
 
 Thus, long before his first year expired, 
 and he was drafted from the lower school 
 to the room above, where he came under 
 the keen eye and heavy ferule of Joshua 
 Brookes, he had a body of lads at his beck 
 (many older than himself), ready for any 
 mischief he might propose. 
 
 As may well be supposed, there was a 
 natural antagonism between the boys of 
 the Grammar School and of Chetham 
 Hospital. As at the confluence of two 
 streams the waters chafe and foam and fret 
 each other, so it is scarcely possible for 
 two separate communities, similar, yet 
 differing in their constitutions, to have 
 their gateways close together at right 
 angles without frequent collision between 
 the rival bodies. 
 
 In the great gate of the College, only 
 open on special occasions, was a small door 
 or wicket, for ordinary use ; and some of
 
 THE MANCHESTrE MAN. 173- 
 
 the Grammar Scliool boys, under pretence 
 of shortening their route homeward, find- 
 ing it open, would make free to cross the 
 College Yard at a noisy canter, and let 
 themselves out at the far gate on Hunt's 
 Bank. It was a clear trespass. They 
 Avere frequently admonished by one official 
 or another ; their passage was disputed by 
 the Blue-coat boys ; but they persisted in 
 setting up a right of road, and opposition 
 only gave piquancy to their bravado. 
 
 That which began with individual as- 
 sumption soon attained the character of 
 boldly asserted party aggression, and, as 
 the Blue-coat boys were as determined to 
 preserve their rights as the others were to 
 invade them, many and well-contested 
 were the consequent fights and struggles. 
 And thus the two boys, Jabez Clegg and 
 Laurence Aspinall, brought together first 
 at the church door and the baptismal font, 
 came into collision again. But now there- 
 was no deferential stepping aside of the
 
 174 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 liumble foundling to make way for the 
 mercliant's son. They stood upon neutral 
 ground, strangers to each other, equal in 
 their respective participation in the benefits 
 of a charitable foundation. Nay, if any- 
 thing, Jabez had the higher stand-point. 
 His orphanhood and poverty had given 
 him a right to his position in Humphrey 
 Chetham's Hospital ; the very wealth of the 
 gentleman's son made Laurence little 
 better than a usurper in Hugh Oldham's 
 Grammar School. 
 
 But it is no part of the novelist's province 
 to prate of the use or abuse of charitable 
 institutions, or to set class in opposition 
 against class. It is only individual char- 
 acter and action as they bear upon one 
 another with which we have to deal. 
 
 On more than one occasion Jabez — since 
 his conquest of the snake, the recognised 
 champion of his form — had stopped Laur- 
 ence Aspinall at the head of a file of boys,
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 175 
 
 and had done his best to bar their passage 
 through the quadrangle. 
 
 Success depended on which school was 
 first released. 
 
 If in time, Jabez planted himself bj the 
 little wicket with one or two companions, 
 and, like Leonidas at Thermopylae, fought 
 bravely for possession of the pass, and 
 generally contrived to beat off the intruders. 
 Sometimes the Blue-coat boys made a 
 sortie from the yard, and, falling upon the 
 others pell-mell, left and bore away marks 
 of the contest in swollen lips and black eyes. 
 
 At length matters were brought to a 
 crisis. Thrice had Laurence and his clique 
 been repulsed, and the shame of their 
 defeat heightened by derisive shouts from 
 a tribe of Millgate urchins — " Yer's th' 
 Grammar Skoo' lads beat by th' yaller 
 petticoats agen !" " Yaller petticoats fur 
 iver ! " " College boys agen Skoo' ! 
 Hurrah !" 
 
 Master Laurence might have ground his
 
 176 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 teeth, and harangued his followers, without 
 obtaining an additional recruit, or spurring 
 them to a fresh attempt, but for the 
 taunts of the rabble. But the ignominy 
 of defeat by petticoated College boys was 
 too much for the blood of the Grammar 
 School, and youngsters threw themselves 
 into the party quarrel who had hitherto 
 stood aloof. 
 
 Laurence Aspinall was superseded. A 
 big, raw-boned fellow, named Travis, took 
 the lead, and rallied round him not only 
 the lads from the lower school, but the 
 bulk of the juniors in the upper room. It 
 is only fair to add that the senior students 
 were in no wise cognisant of the league, 
 or, being so, carefully shut their eyes and 
 ears. 
 
 As the result of this organism, on a set 
 day, towards the close of October, when 
 the dusk gathered as the school dispersed, 
 the boys who ran down the wide steps 
 from the upper, and the juveniles who ran
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 177 
 
 up from the lower room, instead of darting 
 forward with a " Whoop !" and " Halloo !" 
 through the iron gate on their homeward 
 way, clustered together within the school 
 yard, and made way for seniors and masters 
 to pass out before them. 
 
 " Get off home with you, and don't 
 loiter there !" cried Joshua Brookes, as he 
 turned in at his own gate, and saw the 
 crowd massing together in the outer play- 
 ground. 
 
 " Get home yourself, St. Crispin !" shout- 
 ed Laurence, but not before the house 
 door had closed upon the irascible master. 
 
 All books and slates not purposely left 
 in school were consigned to three or four 
 of the smallest boys, duly instructed to 
 carry them to Hunt's Bank in readiness 
 for their owners. 
 
 For a week or more the College boys 
 had been unmolested ; not a forbidden 
 foot had stepped within the wicket. The 
 school-master had remarked to the govern- 
 
 VOL, I. N
 
 178 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 or, in the presence of his pupils, that he 
 thought Dr. Smith must have prohibited 
 further intrusion. 
 
 All the greater was the surprise that 
 dusky October afternoon, when a troop of 
 young ruffians, who had stolen quietly one 
 by one through the wicket, and kept 
 under the cavernous shade of the deep 
 gateway until all were within, rushed, with 
 vociferous shouts, from under cover, and 
 tore across the large yard in the direction 
 of the other gate, daring anyone to check 
 them. 
 
 The College boys, just emerging from 
 their school-room door in the corner, were, 
 for the moment, taken aback. Then, 
 from the mouth of Joshua Brookes's new 
 Latin scholar, rang, clear and distinct, 
 Humphrey Chetham's motto — "Quod 
 tuum, tene !" (What you have, hold !) and 
 the Blue-coat boys, with one George Pil- 
 kington for their leader, threw themselves, 
 at that rallying cry, like a great wave, 
 headlong upon the intruders.
 
 THE MANCHESTEK MAN. 179 
 
 But they met the shock as a rock meets 
 a wave, and down went many a gallant 
 Blue-coat in the dust. Up they were in 
 an instant, face to face with the besiegers ; 
 and then, each singling out an opponent, 
 fought or wrestled for the mastery with 
 all the courage and animosity, if not 
 the skill, of practised combatants. Ben 
 Travis and George Pilkington fought hand 
 to hand, and Jabez — not for the first time 
 — measured his strength with Laurence. 
 
 Heavier, stronger, older by a few 
 months, Jabez might have overmatched 
 his antagonist ; but Laurence had profited 
 by the lessons of Bob the discarded groom, 
 and every blow was planted skilfully, and 
 told. Then Bob's teaching had been none 
 of the most chivalrous, and Laurence took 
 unfair advantages. He " struck below the 
 belt," and then tripping Jabez up, like the 
 coward that he was, kicked him as he lay 
 prostrate with the fury of a savage. 
 
 Governor, schoolmaster, librarian, and 
 
 n2
 
 ] 80 THE MAKCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 porter had hastened to the scene ; but the 
 assailants nearly doubled the number of 
 the College boys, and set lawful authority 
 at defiance, hurling at them epithets such 
 as only schoolboys could devise. 
 
 Fortunately, their own Blue-coat boys 
 were amenable to discipline, and, called off 
 one by one, retreated to the house, often 
 with pursuers close at their heels. Then the 
 Grammar School tribe set up a scornful, 
 triumphant shout, and, with Ben Travis 
 and Laurence Aspinall at their head, 
 marched out of the College Yard at the 
 Hunt's Bank gate, exulting in their victory, 
 even though they left one of their bravest 
 little antagonists insensible behind them. 
 
 I
 
 181 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE BLUE-COAT BOY. 
 
 rjlHOSE were rough days, when an oc- 
 -^ casional brawl was supposed essential 
 to test the mettle of man or boy, so that 
 bruises and black eyes (the result of an 
 encounter for the honour of the school) 
 were passed over with much lighter 
 penalties than would be dealt out uow-a- 
 days, if young gentlemen in a public 
 academy descended to blackguardism. 
 
 At that time, too, the pupils of the 
 Grammar School assembled at seven in the 
 morning, and sure punishment awaited 
 the laggard who failed to present himself
 
 182 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 for prayers. There were few loiterers on 
 that drear October morning. Conscience, 
 and perhaps a dread of consequences, had 
 kept the preceding day s war-party suffici- 
 ently awake even where sore limbs did 
 not. But, with the exception of a few 
 smart raps with the ferule, to warm cold 
 fingers, and a general admonition — little 
 heeded — the early hours of the morning 
 passed quietly enough, and whispers ran 
 along classes, and from form to form, 
 more congratulatory than prophetic. 
 
 That day went by, and the next. Lau- 
 rence Aspinall, whose " science " had saved 
 his head from more damage than a cut lip,' 
 was especially boastful, and, after his own 
 underhand fashion, strove to stir big Ben 
 Travis to fresh demonstrations. 
 
 Then a cloud loomed in the horizon, 
 and darkened every master's brow. An- 
 other whisper was in circulation that 
 Governor Terry had been seen to enter 
 the head-master's ancient black and white
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 188 
 
 old house, and had been closeted with Dr. 
 Smith for more than an hour. Still the 
 quiet was unbroken, and, to the wise, the 
 very calm was ominous. 
 
 The second of November brought a 
 revelation. On the slightly-raised floor of 
 the high school, at the Millgate end of the 
 room, sat, not only Dr. Jeremiah Smith, 
 but the trustees of the school, the Reverend 
 Joshua Brookes, and the assistant masters ; 
 and with them was Governor Terry, of the 
 Chetham Hospital — all grave and stern. 
 Dr. Smith's mild face was unusually severe, 
 and Joshua's shaggy brows lowered menac- 
 ingly over his angry eyes. The senior 
 pupils, chiefly young men preparing for 
 college, were ranged on either side. 
 
 As the last of these awful personages 
 filed in through the two-leaved door, and 
 took his place, the palpitating hearts of 
 the delinquents beat audibly, and courage 
 oozed from many a clammy palm. 
 
 The boys were summoned from the
 
 184 THE MAKCHESTER MAN. 
 
 lower school, and, one by one, name by 
 name, Ben Travis and his followers were 
 called to take their stand before this 
 formidable tribunal, Laurence Aspinall 
 shrinking edgeways, as if to screen himself 
 from observation. 
 
 There was little need for Dr. Smith to 
 strike his ferule on the table to command 
 attention, silence was so profound. Even 
 nervous feet forgot to shuffle. Dr. Smith's 
 commanding eye swept the trembling rank 
 from end to end, as he stood with im- 
 pressive dignity to address them. 
 
 After a brief exordium, in which he 
 recounted the several charges brought 
 against the boys by Governor Terry, 
 he proceeded to say that the good 
 character of the Manchester Grammar 
 School was imperilled by lawless conduct 
 such as the boys before him had exhibited 
 the previous Tuesday, in forcibly enter- 
 ing, and then rioting within, the College 
 Yard.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 185 
 
 One of tlie youtlis — most likely Ben 
 Travis — blurted forth that they had a 
 right to go through the College Yard, and 
 that the College boys stopped them. 
 
 *' You mistake," said the doctor, sternly, 
 ^' there is no public right of road through 
 the College Yard. Permission is courte- 
 ously granted, but there is ] no right. There 
 is a right for the public to pass to and 
 from the College and its library on business, 
 within the hours the gates are open ; but 
 oven that must be in order and decency. 
 Your conduct was that of barbarians, not 
 gentlemen." 
 
 At this point of the proceedings Jabez 
 Clegg came into the school-room, leaning 
 on the arm of George Pilkington. The 
 face of the latter was bruised and swollen, 
 but Jabez looked deplorable. His long 
 overcoat was rent in more than one place ; 
 he walked with a limp ; a white bandage 
 round his head made his white face whiter 
 still, showing more distinctly the livid and
 
 186 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 discoloured patches under tlie half-closed 
 eyes. In obedience to a nod from Govern- 
 or Terry, George Pilkington led his Blue- 
 coat brother to a seat beside him ; but Dr. 
 Smith, drawing the boy gently to his side, 
 removed the bandage, and showed Jabez 
 to the school with one deei)ly-cut eyebrow 
 plastered up. 
 
 " What boy among you has been guilty 
 of this outrage ?" he asked, sternly. 
 
 There was no reply. Some of the little 
 ones took out their handkerchiefs and 
 began to whimper, fearing condign punish- 
 ment. The doctor repeated his question. 
 The boys looked from one to another, but 
 there was still no answer. Laurence Aspin- 
 all edged farther behind his coadjutor, but 
 he had not the ilianliness either to confess 
 or to regret. His only fear was detection, 
 or betrayal by a traitor. There was little 
 fear of that ; grammar-school boys have a 
 detestation of a " sneak." 
 
 '' Boys, we cannot permit the perpetrator
 
 THE MANCHESTETl MAN. 187 
 
 of such an outrage to remain in your 
 midst ; tie must be expelled !" 
 
 Still no one spoke. 
 
 " Do you think you could recognise 
 your assailant — the boy who kicked you 
 after you were down ?" (a murmur ran 
 round the school as the classes were 
 ordered to defile slowly past Dr. Smith's 
 desk). 
 
 Ben Travis walked with head erect — he 
 would have scorned such a deed — and 
 Laurence tried to do the same, but his 
 cruel blue eyes could not meet those of his 
 possible accuser. 
 
 There was a struggle going on in the 
 heart of Jabez. It was in his power to 
 revenge himself for many taunts and sar- 
 casms, and much previous abuse. He 
 called to mind — for thought is swift — that 
 Shrove Tuesday when Laurence and his 
 friends caught him as he descended Mrs. 
 Clowes's steps with a pennyworth of hum- 
 bugs in his hand, and, snatching his cap
 
 188 THE MANCHESTER 3IAN. 
 
 from liis head, kicked it about Half Street 
 and the churclijard as a football. And he 
 seemed to feel again the twitch at his dark 
 hair, and the dreadful pain in his spine 
 and loins, as they bent him backwards over 
 the coping of the low wall, in order to 
 wrest his sweets from him, and held him 
 there perforce till stout Mrs. Clowes, armed 
 with a rolling-pin, came to his rescue, 
 laying about her vigorously, and kept him 
 in her back parlour until he revived. 
 
 " Forgive and forget " are words for the 
 angels, and Jabez was not an angel, but a 
 boy with quick-beating pulses and a vivid 
 memory. There was a fight going on in 
 his breast fiercer than either that in Half 
 Street or that in the College Yard. His 
 sore, stiff limbs and smarting brow urged 
 him like voices to ^' pay him off for all," and 
 revenge began to have a sweet savour in 
 his mouth. 
 
 As he hesitated, watching the slow 
 approach of his foe among his nobler
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAX. 189 
 
 mates, a liarsli voice behind him called 
 out, ''Jabez, why do you not answer Dr. 
 Smith ?" 
 
 The emphasis Joshua Brookes had laid 
 upon the '' Jabez " recalled the boy's better 
 self. The oft-repeated text flashed across 
 his mind, '' Jabez was an honourable man," 
 and it shaped his reply. 
 
 " Well, sir, it was almost dark, and — 
 and " — he was going to add too dark to 
 distinguish features, but he recollected that 
 that would be a falsehood, and lying was 
 no more honourable than malice. 
 
 " And you could not recognise him, you 
 mean ?" suggested Dr. Smith. 
 
 His lip quivered. 
 
 " No, sir, I do not mean that. It was 
 very dark, but I think I should know him 
 again. But, oh ! if you please, sir, I should 
 not like to turn him out of school. You 
 see, we were all fighting together, and we 
 were all in a passion, and — ^-and — it would 
 be very mean of me to turn him out of
 
 190 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 school because lie hurt me in a fight" 
 (Jabez did not say a fair fight). 
 
 " Ah !" said Dr. Smith, and, turning to 
 Mr. Terry, asked, "Are all the Chetham 
 lads reared on the same principle ?" 
 
 Then there was a low-voiced discussion 
 amongst trustees and masters. Finally, 
 Dr. Smith turned round. His clear eye 
 had detected the culprit as he winced 
 beneath the gaze of Jabez. But the in- 
 jured boy had forgiven, and it was not for 
 him to condemn. 
 
 Again he spoke — proclaimed how Jabez 
 had magnanimously declined to single out 
 his cowardly antagonist ; and that the boy, 
 whoever he might be, had to thank his 
 most honourable victim that he was not 
 ignominiously expelled. Then quietly but 
 emphatically he pronounced the decision of 
 the trustees that instant expulsion should 
 follow any or every repetition of the offence 
 which had called them together — not only 
 the expulsion of the ringleaders, but of all
 
 THE MAXCHESTER MAN. 191 
 
 concerned ; and that even a fair fight 
 between a Grammar School and a Blue- 
 coat boy should be visited with suspension 
 pending inquiry, the offender to be expelled 
 whether from school or college. 
 
 '' Good lad, Jabez ! — good lad !" said 
 Joshua Brookes to him, as George Pilk- 
 ington helped his limping steps from the 
 room. 
 
 On the broad flat step outside the door 
 they encountered big Ben Travis, who 
 caught the hand of Jabez in a rough grip, 
 with the exclamation, " Give us your fist, 
 my young buck ! You've more pluck in 
 your finger than that carroty Aspinall in 
 his whole carcase, the mean cur ! An 
 look you, my lad, if any of them set on you 
 again, I'll stand by and see fair play ; or 
 I'll fight for you if it's a big chap, or my 
 name's not Ben Travis." 
 
 " Who talks of fighting ? Haven't you 
 had enough for one while, you great raw" 
 boned brute? You'd better keep your
 
 192 THE MANCHESTEE MAX. 
 
 ready fists in your pockets, Travis, if you 
 don't want to be kicked out of scliool !" 
 After wliich o-ruff reminder Joshua left 
 them, and Jabez went back to the CoUeo-e 
 with one more friend in the world ; but 
 that friend was not Laurence Aspinali. 
 
 He, smarting under a sense of obligation, 
 shrunk away to bite his nails and vent his 
 spleen in private, conscious that he was 
 shunned by his classmates, and despised 
 by honest Ben Travis. 
 
 As months and seasons sped onwards, 
 they plucked the hairs from Simon Clegg's 
 crown, and left a bald patch to tell of care 
 or coming age ; they stole the roundness 
 from Bessy's figure, the hope from her 
 heart and eyes. There was less vigour in 
 the beat of her batting-wand, less elasti- 
 city in her step. The periodical holidays 
 and cheering visits of Jabez were the only 
 pleasant breaks in the monotonous life of 
 the Cleggs. Beyond the knowledge ob- 
 tained at the billetino- office in Kin or Street
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN". 193 
 
 tliat Tom Hulme liad entered the army 
 and gone abroad with his regiment, no 
 tidings of the self -exiled soldier had come 
 to them. In the great vortex of war his 
 name had been swallowed up and lost. 
 But she never said ''Ay" to Matthew 
 Cooper, though he waited and waited, 
 smoking his Sunday pipe by the fireside 
 even till his own Molly was old enough to 
 have a sweetheart, and to want to leave 
 her father's crowded hearth for a quieter 
 one of her own. 
 
 Those same months and years added 
 alike to the stature and attainments of 
 Jabez Clegg and Laurence Aspinall, 
 though in very unequal ratio. The 
 former, though he had long since as- 
 tonished Simon with his fluent rendering 
 of the big Bible, was but a plodding 
 scholar of average ability, the range of 
 whose studies was limited, notwithstanding 
 Parson Joshua's voluntary Latin lessons. 
 The latter had an aptitude for learning, 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 which made his masters press him forward ; 
 and Joshua Brookes forgave the tricks he 
 played, his translations were so clear and 
 so correct. Yet, when he wrote stinging 
 couplets or '' St. Crispin" on the Parson's 
 door, or put cobblers'-wax in the peda- 
 gogue's chair, the covert reference to his 
 parentage stung the irascible man more 
 than the damage to kerseymere, and in his 
 wrath he birched his pupil into penitence. 
 His penitence took a peculiar form. A 
 discovery was made that a general dance 
 in the school-room would shake the 
 pewter platters and crockery down from 
 dresser and corner cupboard in Joshua's 
 house adjoining. Whenever the dominie 
 had growled over bad lessons with least 
 cause, Laurence was sure to propose a 
 grand hornpipe after school hours. Back 
 would rush Joshua fast as his short legs 
 would carry him, spluttering with passion ; 
 but the nimbler lads disappeared when 
 they heard the crash, and, as a rule,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 195 
 
 Joshua's temper cooled before morning. 
 Laurence Aspinall's cliief source of 
 amusement from his first entrance into the 
 Grammar School had been the crippled 
 father of Joshua Brookes. As the old 
 fellow staggered home drunk, the street- 
 boys would hoot at him, pull him about, 
 pelt him with mud, and mock at him, till 
 his impotent fury found vent in a storm of 
 vile and opprobrious language. Laurence 
 was sure to enjoy a scene of this kind, but 
 he was generally sly enough to act as 
 prompter, not as principal. 
 
 The old man was a great angler ; and 
 that he might enjoy unmolested his favour- 
 ite pastime, his son had obtained from 
 Colonel Hansom permission for him to fish 
 in Strange ways Park ponds. Thither he 
 had an empty hogshead conveyed, and the 
 crippled old cobbler, with a flask of rum for 
 company, sat within it, often the night 
 through, to catch fish. The Irk had not 
 then lost its repute for fine eels, and old 
 
 o2
 
 196 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Brookes — wlio, by tlie way, wore liis liair 
 in a pigtail — was likewise wont to plant 
 himself, with rod and line, on what was 
 the Waterworth Field, on the Irwell side of 
 Irk Bridge, to catch eels. 
 
 Returning one afternoon (Joshua was 
 busied with clerical duties), Laurence 
 Aspinall and his fellows met the old man 
 staggering along with his rod over his 
 shoulder and a basket of eels in one hand. 
 
 He had called at the " Packhorse " for a 
 dram, and went on, as was his wont, talk- 
 ing noisily to himself. He had steered 
 round the corner in safety ; but hearing 
 one lively voice call out, " Here's old Fish- 
 tail ;" and another, ^' Here's St. Crispin's 
 Cripple ;" and a third, ^' Make way for 
 Diogenes," as he was passing the high- 
 master's, he gave a lurch, meaning to 
 reprove them solemnly — the top of his rod 
 caught in the prominent pillar of the door- 
 way, and was torn from his insecure grasp.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 197 
 
 Striving to recover it, he pitched forward, 
 and in falling dropped his basket in the 
 mud, and set the writhing, long-lived fish 
 at liberty to swim in the gutter swollen 
 with recent rain. 
 
 The lounging lads at once set up a 
 shout ; but Laurence, with a timely recol- 
 lection that the front of Dr. Smith's was 
 scarcely the most convenient place for his 
 purpose, winked at his companions, and, 
 with an aspect of mock commiseration, po- 
 litely assisted the old man to rise, begged 
 the others to capture the eels and carr}^ the 
 basket for him, and, under pretence of 
 putting the angler's rod in order, contrived 
 to fasten the hook to the end of his old- 
 fashioned pigtail. 
 
 Then he helped his unsteady steps until 
 they were fairly out of Dr. Smith's sight 
 and hearing ; but they did not suffer him 
 to reach his son's house before they showed 
 their true colours. Loosing his hold.
 
 198 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 Laurence snatclied at the rod, and, darting 
 witli it towards the College gate, cried out 
 in high glee, *' I've been fishing, I've been 
 fishing; look at the fine snig (eel) I've 
 caught !" And, as he capered about, he 
 dragged the poor old cripple hither and 
 thither backwards by his pigtail, to which 
 hook and line were attached. 
 
 Old Brookes screamed in impotent rage 
 and pain ; the boys laughed and shouted 
 the louder. The one with his basket set it 
 on his head, and paraded about, crying, 
 *' Who'll buy my snigs ? Fine fresh 
 snigs !" with the nasal drawl of a genuine 
 fish-seller. 
 
 Once or twice the old man fell down, 
 uttering awful threats and imprecations ; 
 but Laurence only laughed the more, and 
 jerked him up again with a smart twitch of 
 the line, which was a strong one ; and the 
 other three or four young ruffians put up 
 their shoulders, and limped about sing- 
 ing—
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 199 
 
 *' The fishes drink water, 
 Old Crispin drinks gin ; 
 But the fishes come out 
 When the hook he throws in. 
 Tol de rol." 
 
 It may be wondered that none of the 
 neighbours interfered. But it must be 
 remembered that they were accustomed, 
 not only to the uproar of a boyish multi- 
 tude, but to the drunken ravings of Old 
 Brookes, who was an intolerable nuisance. 
 Public traffic then was not as now, and 
 policemen were unborn. 
 
 The satisfaction of Laurence was at its 
 height. He kept hold of the line ; one of 
 his comrades, named Barret, lashed the 
 persecuted man with an eel for a whip, and 
 their mirth was boisterous, when Jabez 
 (now thirteen) came quietly through the 
 wicket on an errand from the governor. 
 
 He took in the scene at a glance. He 
 could not stand by and see injustice done. 
 His dark eyes flashed with indignation as 
 he dashed forward, pulling the line from
 
 200 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 the hand of Laurence, and tried to disen- 
 tangle the cruel hook from the unfortunate 
 pigtail. 
 
 ''Who asked you to interfere, you petti- 
 coated jackanapes?" bawled Laurence, 
 darting forward, his face as red as his hair, 
 at the same time dealing Jabez a heavy 
 blow on the chest. 
 
 "My duty!'* answered Jabez, stoutly, 
 taking^ no notice of the sneer at himself. 
 " How could you gentlemen torment a poor 
 old cripple like that ?" 
 
 " He's a drunken old sot !" cried Barret. 
 
 '' It's downright cruel !" continued Jabez, 
 as he. stood between the jabbering drunkard 
 and his tormentors. 
 
 " We're no more cruel than he is ! He's 
 been catching fishes all day. We've only 
 given him a taste of his own hook ; and 
 we'll have none of your meddling !" and out 
 went the pugilistic arm of Laurence 
 straight from the shoulder to deal another 
 blow, when it was caught from behind by
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 201 
 
 the bony hand of Ben Travis, bigger and 
 stronger by two years' growth, whilst the 
 other hand gripped his jacket collar. 
 
 " So you're at your cowardly tricks 
 again, Aspinall !" exclaimed he, holding the 
 other as if in a vice. " But if I see you lay 
 another finger on that lad, I'll report you 
 to Dr. Smith." 
 
 " Oh ! you'd turn sneak, would you ?' 
 sneered Laurence, striving to twist himself 
 loose, and disordering his broad white frill 
 in the endeavour. 
 
 " I'd think I did the Grammar School a 
 service to turn either you or Barret out of 
 it, I would ! Think of you setting on that 
 noble chap who wouldn't turn tell-tale, 
 though he'll carry the mark of your boot 
 to his grave with him !" 
 
 Pointing with outstretched hand to 
 Jabez, who by this time was handing Old 
 Brookes over to the grumbling care of Ta- 
 bitha, and whose right eyebrow yet showed 
 a red seam, Travis relaxed his hold of
 
 202 THE MANCHESTER MAX. 
 
 Laurence, and lie shook himself free. 
 Some warm altercation followed. There 
 was a scowl of sullen defiance on Aspinall's 
 face, and an evil glance towards Jabez, 
 which Travis observing, with a significant 
 nod he linked his arm in that of the Blue- 
 coat boy, and never left him till he reached 
 his destination, Mr. Hyde's ancient and 
 picturesque tea-shop in Market- Street 
 Lane.
 
 203 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE GENTLEMAN, 
 
 nnHAT afternoon a gentleman wlio bad 
 -■- witnessed part of tlie foregoing scene 
 from tlie breeches-maker's window, wliitlier 
 lie had gone for a pair of buckskin riding- 
 gloves — struck by the dauntless manner of 
 Jabez, related what he had seen to his 
 wife, Mrs. Ashton, the stately sister of Mrs. 
 Chadwick ; whilst Augusta, their eight- 
 year-old daughter, sat on a footstool by her 
 side, hemming a bandana handkerchief for 
 her father, an inveterate snuff-taker — occa- 
 sionally putting in a word, as only spoiled 
 daughters did in those days.
 
 204 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 " Mamma, I daresay that's the little boy 
 Cousin Ellen told me about." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! Augusta," said Mr. Ash- 
 ton, tapping the lid of his snuff-box, and 
 then, from force of habit, handing it to his 
 wife, the wave of whose hand put it back 
 — "pooh, pooh ! child. Do you think 
 there's only one Blue-coat boy in the 
 town ? Besides, he was not such a little 
 boy. I know I thought something of 
 myself when I was his size," said Mr. 
 Ashton, dusting the snuff from his ruffles 
 as he spoke. 
 
 "But he would be a little boy when 
 Ellen knew him first. She says it was 
 before I was born." 
 
 " He could not be a Blue-coat boy then, 
 my dear," observed Mrs. Ashton; '^he was 
 too young." 
 
 " But Ellen showed him to me when we 
 went to the College at Easter; and she 
 says he has killed a snake — a real live 
 snake, papa. And Aunt Chadwick bought
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 205 
 
 Ellen sucli a pretty pincusliion lie had 
 worked, and, oli ! sucli a handsome bead 
 purse !" 
 
 Mr. Asliton smiled at liis daughter's 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " Ah ! I think I have heard of him 
 before ; he is a sort of protege of Parson 
 Brookes." 
 
 '' He is a very honest boy," appended 
 Mrs. Ashton, as she examined Augusta's 
 hemming by the light of the nearest wax 
 candle. *' Ellen lost Prince William's shil- 
 ling that same day. You know she always 
 wears it dangling from her neck, absurd 
 as it is for a great girl of fifteen." 
 
 "Well?" said Augusta, looking up in- 
 quu'ingly. 
 
 " Well, my dear, the very next afternoon 
 the boy Jabez Clegg knocked at the door 
 in Oldham Street with the shilling, which 
 he said he had found in sweeping the 
 library, and remembered seeing it on Miss 
 Chadwick's neck. Many a boy, at Easter,
 
 206 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 would have spent it in cakes or to%." 
 
 *' I suppose, to use one of your favourite 
 maxims, he must have thought ^honesty 
 the best policy,'" remarked her husband. 
 
 "Yes; and 'duty its own reward' — for 
 he refused the half-crown that Sarah 
 offered him." 
 
 Mr. Ashton took another pinch of snuff, 
 with grave consideration, then put the 
 box, after some deliberation, into his deep 
 waistcoat pocket, and again flapped the 
 snuff oE ruffles and neck-cloth ends. 
 
 "Wouldn't take the money, you say?" 
 
 "Would not take it," his wife repeated, 
 folding up the finished handkerchief. 
 
 After a pause, Mr. Ashton said, with his 
 head on one side, 
 
 " I think I shall look after that younker. 
 What is he like ?" 
 
 " Oh, that I cannot tell ; I was not with 
 them. But I think Sarah said he had got 
 an ugly scar on one of his eyebrows." 
 
 Mr. Ashton brought down his hand
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 207 
 
 with a clap on that of Augusta, resting on 
 his knee. 
 
 " Then, my little Lancashire witch, the 
 poor cripple's champion and Ellen's hero 
 of romance will be one and the same. I 
 must certainly look after that lad." 
 
 But even as Mr. Ashton came to that 
 conclusion Jabez was in mortal peril, and 
 his romance and theirs threatened to end 
 at the beginning. 
 
 Laurence Aspinall was not of a temper 
 to brook interference with his sport, or to 
 be treated as the inferior of a '' common 
 charity boy." Since the hour that Jabez 
 had declined to single him out for punish- 
 ment, he had resented the sense of his 
 own inferiority which conscience pressed 
 upon him. In refusing to tender either 
 thanks or apology at Ben Travis's instiga- 
 tion, he lost caste in the school, and the 
 knowledge rankled in his breast. Against 
 the debt of gratitude he owed to Jabez he 
 laid up a fund of envy and spite, out of
 
 208 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 which he meant to pay him in full the first 
 opportunity. That opportunity had arriv- 
 ed. There were some birds of his own 
 feather, who stuck by him, of whom Ned 
 Barret was one. 
 
 Old Brookes had been too drunk to 
 swear positively who had molested him, or 
 to obtain credence if he did ; but the in- 
 opportune arrival of Jabez and Ben Travis 
 had made detection certain, and nothing 
 was Joshua Brookes so sure to punish with 
 severity as an attack on the father who 
 made his life a burden to him. 
 
 On the princi]Dle that they might " as 
 well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb," the 
 noble five resolved to waylay the Blue- 
 coat boy on his return, and either extract 
 from him a promise of secrecy, or give him 
 a sound drubbing for his pains. 
 
 They were too like-minded for long 
 conference. To put the old breeches- 
 maker off the scent, all dispersed but one, 
 Kit Townley, who pulled a top from his
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 209 
 
 pocket and wliipped away at it with as 
 much energy as ever did his Anglo-Saxon 
 ancestors. Perhaps he thought he had a 
 meddlesome College boy under his lash. 
 
 After a time, the others sauntered 
 back one by one, from contrary direc- 
 tions ; there was more top-whipping, and 
 some of the whips and tops were new. 
 Then, when they saw they were unob- 
 served, they adjourned to the school-yard, 
 and laying a cap on the broad step, two or 
 three of them sat down to a game at cob- 
 nut, so that if any unlikely straggler did 
 come that way there might be an apparent 
 reason for their presence. 
 
 It was 'late in the year. The breeches- 
 maker was seated at his early tea, and so 
 were most of his neighbours. The twilight 
 was coming gently down, and the boys, 
 tired of waiting, were about to go home to 
 their own — Aspinall expecting a reprimand 
 for being late. Jabez, who had been 
 delayed at the office of Harrop the printer 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THE MANCHESTEK MAN. 
 
 in the Market Place, came briskly up with 
 a parcel in his hand just as the}^ reached 
 the gate. One of them snatched the parcel 
 from him and ran with it into the school- 
 yard. As a natural consequence Jabez 
 followed to regain his property. 
 
 That was just what they wanted. The 
 light iron gate was pushed-to, and there they 
 were, shut in and screened from observa- 
 tion, between the deserted Grammar School 
 on the one hand, and the College school- 
 room on the other, which, with the 
 dormitory above, was equally sure to be 
 empty at that hour. They were free to 
 torment him as they pleased. The parcel 
 was tossed from hand to hand with sub- 
 dued glee, and their whip-lashes cut at his 
 arms and shoulders, as Jabez sprang 
 forward and darted hither and thither, 
 perplexed and baffled in his efforts to 
 recover it. Once or twice it went down 
 on the damp ground, and gained in grime 
 what it lost in shape.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 211 
 
 ^* Oh ! dear, dear ! do give me my 
 parcel !" cried Jabez, in perplexity. " Our 
 governor will think I've been loitering." 
 
 "And so you have, you canting yellow- 
 skirt. You stopped to put your long 
 finger in our pie !" was the swift retort of 
 Laurence, as he interposed his body 
 between Jabez and the boy who held his 
 lost charge. 
 
 " Eh ! and you went off with Travis, 
 wasting your time !" added Kit Townley. 
 
 " I never waste my time on an errand." 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Nancy never wastes time on 
 an errand," mimicked Ned Barret ; and 
 still they kept the boy on the run until he 
 leaned, out of breath, against the wall which 
 served as a parapet above the river. 
 
 Then, the disputed prize being kept by 
 Kit Townley at a respectable distance, 
 Laurence advanced to parley _ with him, 
 offering to restore his parcel and let him 
 go if he would take a solemn oath, which 
 
 p2
 
 212 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 he dictated, to maintain silence on all 
 wliicli had transpired that afternoon. 
 
 " I cannot ; I must account for my 
 time," firmly answered Jabez, " and I must 
 account for that dirty parcel." 
 
 '* Tell them you tumbled down and hurt 
 yourself;" suggested Aspinall. 
 
 '* I cannot ; it would be untrue !" 
 
 At this the lads set up a loud gufew, as 
 if truth were somewhat out of fashion ; but 
 the one who stood nearest the gate with 
 the parcel looked restless, as if beginning 
 to be tired of the whole business. Just 
 then Laurence went blustering up to the 
 College boy, and, thrusting his face for- 
 ward, said — 
 
 " If you don't go down on your marrow- 
 bones this instant, and swear to tell no 
 tales, we'll pitch you over the wall." 
 
 " You dare not !" boldly retorted Jabez, 
 with a set face. 
 
 "Oh! daren't we? We'll see that! 
 Lend a hand."
 
 THE MANOHESTEIi MAN. 213 
 
 '^ No, you dare not !" repeated lie, plant- 
 ing himself firmly against tlie wall. 
 
 There was a sudden rush ; they closed 
 round him, more in bravado than with any 
 intent to do him bodily harm ; sliding him 
 up against the smooth-worn brick-work, 
 they hoisted him above their shoulders, 
 meaning to hold him there. But in their 
 eagerness they had thrust him too far, and 
 crowding on each other, one, being jostled, 
 let go, and Jabez toppled over the precipice ! 
 
 There was a scream; a splash in the 
 water. Tabitha, taking clothes from a line 
 in the back-yard, cried out, ''What is 
 that ?" Parson Brookes's startled pigeons 
 flew from their dove-cote, and wheeling 
 round in widening circles cooed affrightedly. 
 
 The white-faced boys stood aghast. 
 Unless his fall had been seen from the 
 opposite croft, their victim would be 
 drowned before any aid they could bring 
 was available ; a wide circuit must be taken 
 before a bridge could be reached ! Build-
 
 214 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 ings blocked up tliat side of tlie river. 
 They looked at each other and spoke in 
 whispers ; then, with an animal instinct of 
 self-preservation, sneaked off in silence and 
 terror, leaving him to his fate. 
 
 Not all. Kit Townley, who held the 
 parcel, had drawn near to remonstrate. 
 With a shriek he threw down the paper, 
 and, hardly conscious what he did, tore 
 wildly through the gates, and across the 
 College Yard, to startle the first he met 
 with the alarm that a. College boy was 
 drowning in the Irk !
 
 215 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Simon's pupil, 
 
 FT was fortunate for Jabez tliat the late 
 -■■ rains liad raised tlie level of tlie Irk ; 
 otbierwise, that being the shallowest part of 
 the stream, there would not have been 
 sufficient depth of water to buoy him up 
 when he was pitched over the wall ; and 
 had his head come in contact with rock or 
 stone, falling from such an elevation, his 
 history would have closed with the last 
 chapter. It was. doubly fortunate that 
 sensible Simon had taught him that with- 
 out which no boy's education — nor, indeed, 
 any girl's either — is complete, and that 
 Jabez, from very love of the water, had
 
 216 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 kept himself in practice wlienever a holiday 
 had given him opportunity. 
 
 He had gone over the wall backwards, 
 falling into the stream head downwards, 
 but not altogether unprepared ; and to him 
 head first, heels first, forward or backward, 
 were all as one. Like a cork he rose, and 
 struck out across the river. The slimy 
 stone embankment seemed to slip from his 
 touch ; there was no hold for his hand ; it 
 was too steep and smooth to climb ; and he 
 felt that the river, swift in its fulness, was 
 bent on bearing him to the Irwell, so 
 dangerously near. 
 
 He raised his voice for ^' help." Tabitha, 
 listening, answered with a scream and a 
 shout, and, bolting into the house, disturbed 
 the Parson and his besotted father at their 
 tea by the outcry she made, as she rushed 
 on into the street with the alarm of '^ a 
 lad dreawndin," just as the conscious cul- 
 prits slunk past to their own quarters. 
 
 Doctor Stone, the first recipient of terri-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 217 
 
 fied Kit Townley's incoherent intelligence, 
 was simultaneously racing at full speed, 
 with a troop of College boys at his heels, 
 down towards Hunt's Bank and the outlet 
 of the Irk, with the swift consciousness 
 that the only hope of saving life was in the 
 chance of reaching the confluence of the 
 rivers first. He thought the dusk never 
 came down so rapidly. A lamplighter, 
 with ladder and flaring long-spouted oil- 
 can light, was going his rounds. 
 
 " Turn back, mj man, with ladder and 
 light," he called out, without stopping ; 
 and the man, seeing something unusual 
 was astir or amiss, followed at a canter 
 without question. 
 
 At Irk Bridge the librarian took the 
 light from the man, and swung it to cast 
 its reflection over the Irwell ; but nothing 
 was to be seen or heard but the full river, 
 and the wash of its waters. To cross the 
 bridge, in fear that the boy was beyond 
 help, was but the work of a moment.
 
 218 THE MAIS^CHESTEE MAN. 
 
 Slower, along tlie wooden railing of the 
 Irk embankment, he held the lamp low. 
 There was neither eddy nor bubble on the 
 water to tell where a drowning mortal had 
 gone down. 
 
 '' J^bez ! Jabez Clegg !" he cried, but 
 there was no response. Again and again 
 he raised his voice — " Jabez ! Jabez !" The 
 only answer was from an advancing crowd, 
 with Parson Brookes and Tabitha in their 
 midst, who had rushed to the rescue with 
 ropes and poles down the bridge at Mill 
 Brow. 
 
 " I fear it's no use, Parson Brookes," 
 said the librarian sadly ; *' the river s high, 
 and poor Jabez may have been drifting past 
 Stannyhurst before we were out of the 
 College Yard." 
 
 " Jabez !" exclaimed Joshua aghast, 
 " you cannot mean that Jabez Clegg is the 
 boy drowned !" and he staggered as if some 
 one had struck him. 
 
 " Indeed, Parson, if this boy speaks
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 219 
 
 truth, I fear it is so," and he turned to 
 question his informant ; but Kit Townley, 
 seeing his impulsive schoolmaster approach, 
 had edged away, and was gone. 
 
 Gruf^ Joshua drew the back of his hand 
 across his shaggy brows. 
 
 " And so the greedy river has swallowed 
 the bright lad at last ! He was a boy of 
 promise, Dr. Stone, and his untimely fate 
 is a — a — trouble to me;" and the rough 
 Parson's harsh voice shook with emotion. 
 "I baptised him, Doctor, and I hoped to 
 see him grow up a credit to us all." 
 
 They, and the dispersing crowd, seeing 
 the uselessness of longer stay, were moving 
 on towards Mill Brow as he spoke. 
 
 "Who's this?" he cried as they neared 
 the bridge, and a working woman, her hair 
 flying loose from the kerchief on her head, 
 rushed across it with an impetus gained in 
 the steep descent. 
 
 It was Bess, with Simon at her heels, 
 close as his stiff rheumatic limbs would
 
 220 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 carry him. She wrung her hands bitterly. 
 
 "Is it true?" she cried in anguish, '^is 
 it true ? Oh, Parson Brucks, is it true 
 that ar Jabez is dreawnded ?" 
 
 There was the same choking in his voice 
 as he answered — 
 
 "I'm afraid so, Bess." 
 
 Simon's voice now broke in. 
 
 " But are yo' sartain, Parson ? Ar 
 Jabez couldn swim loike a duck. An' 
 how cam he i' th' wayter, aw shouldn loike 
 to know ?" 
 
 '* Swim, did you say?" interrogated Dr. 
 Stone, " Then there may be hope yet. 
 If the eddies would not let him land at 
 Waterworth Field, he might swim ashore 
 at Stannyhurst." 
 
 '' Pray God it be so 1" ejaculated Bess, 
 from a full heart. 
 
 Dr. Stone, hurrying forward, continued : 
 
 " Follow me to the College for lanterns 
 to renew the search." And no second 
 invitation was needed.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 221 
 
 And where was Jabez ? He heard 
 Tabitha's cry, but it came from the wrong 
 side, and he had sense to know was 
 useless to save, unless he could withstand 
 the current till help came round. But the 
 strong stream was bearing him on against 
 his will. Suddenly he bethought him of 
 the dairy steps, and, with a stroke of his 
 left arm, swerved towards the hoary build- 
 ing looming through the twilight. One 
 moment later, and the steps had been 
 passed, not to be recovered, for the current 
 was stronger than he; but that provi- 
 dentially abrupt turn, and a few skilful 
 strokes, brought him upon them. Literally 
 upon them, for the water was within a 
 step or two of the door. With difficulty 
 he obtained a footing, they were so slippery. 
 Once above the water, he hammered at 
 the door and called, but his voice was 
 weakened by exertion and the shivering 
 consequent on cold, wet, clinging garments. 
 Again and again he knocked and called^
 
 222 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 but everyone was out in tlie quadrangle, 
 or away in search of him, and no one 
 heard. 
 
 He had been excited and over-heated in 
 his prolonged struggle with his persecutors, 
 and, short as was the distance he swam, 
 his efforts to stem the overmastering 
 current had exhausted him. Cold and 
 exposure did the rest. He sank on the 
 topmost step with his head against the 
 door, in the angle it formed with the wall, 
 his feet in the water ; and there he lay, 
 too faint to respond when Dr. Stone's 
 voice fell on his ear as on that of a 
 dreamer. His dark robe, his position, the 
 jutting wall — all contributed to hide him 
 from the poor rays of the one oil-lamp 
 which was flashed along the stream to find 
 him. 
 
 And there he might have lain and died 
 had not Nancy, for lack of a boy at hand 
 to wait on her, gone down to the cellar for 
 milk for the boys' supper. As she filled
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 223 
 
 tlie wooden piggin slie had taken with her, 
 she fancied she heard a moan, and hstening 
 breathless, heard another, and another, 
 from the outside of a door which was (to 
 her thought) inaccessible to mortal. 
 
 Down went the piggin and the milk 
 (she was not a strong-minded woman, and 
 it was a superstitious age), up the steps 
 she stumbled in her fright, crying — 
 
 " Oh ! theer's a boggart in th' dairy ! — 
 theer's a boggart !" 
 
 Dr. Stone and his companions came in 
 at the porch as she fled upwards towards 
 the kitchen. The firelight gleaming on 
 her frightened face caught his attention. 
 Half fainting, she repeated her exclama- 
 tion, adding — 
 
 " It moaned like summat wick." 
 
 "Moaned, did you say? Goodness! 
 •If it should be " 
 
 Not stopping to finish his sentence, he 
 snatched a light from the table, and was
 
 224 THE MANCHESTEK MAN. 
 
 unbolting tlie cellar-door before the gover- 
 nor or anyone else could comprehend his 
 movements. They understood well enough 
 when he came back into their midst, bur- 
 dened with the limp, dripping form of 
 Jabez, white and insensible, and depositing 
 him on a settle near the kitchen fire, cried 
 out for restoratives. 
 
 That was a terrible next morning, when 
 the young miscreants, as much afraid to 
 play truant as to face possibilities at school, 
 sneaked to their places and set to their 
 studies with industry out of the common. 
 Laurence Aspinall, boarding with a master, 
 had no choice in the matter. 
 
 How Jabez got into the water was not 
 clear ; he was too ill to be questioned over- 
 night, and was in a fever and delirious by 
 noon the next day. But he had never been 
 known to loiter or go astray when sent on 
 an errand. Kit Townley's impulsive cry 
 of alarm had suggested foul play, and 
 neither Joshua Brookes nor Governor Terry
 
 THE MiVNCHESTER MAN. 225 
 
 had let the night pass without an effort to 
 dive into the truth. 
 
 Dr. Stone had conjectured Kit Townley 
 to be a Grammar School boj, although 
 personally unknown to him ; and that con- 
 jecture recalled to Joshua his father's 
 ravings of ill-usage, which he had at the 
 time regarded as drunken maudling. It 
 was ascertained that the boy had been at 
 Harrop's. Inquiry, and the search for the 
 missing parcel, resulted in the discovery of 
 a trampled play-ground, broken whip- 
 lashes, a string of cob-nuts, and, neatly 
 marked in red cotton with his initials, one 
 of Laurence Aspinall's cambric ruffles, torn 
 and muddy. 
 
 There was a conference with Dr. Jere- 
 miah Smith before the night was out. A 
 messenger was sent to Mr. Aspinall in 
 Cannon Street the next morning, as well as 
 to the trustees of the school. 
 
 The following day saw such another 
 conclave as before in the Grammar School. 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE MANCHESTER MAN". 
 
 Dr. Stone, who was present, picked out the 
 boj wlio had given the alarm ; and Kit 
 Townley, trembHng for himself, told all he 
 knew. Ben Travis, at the outset, in his 
 indignation, proffered his evidence, which 
 went to prove malice prepense. 
 
 The boys, asked what they had to say 
 for themselves, simply said they had done 
 it for " sport " — that they did not mean to 
 throw him over, but only to frighten him 
 to "hold his tongue," and excused their 
 running home on the plea that they were 
 " afraid." Laurence Aspinall boldly said 
 that he knew the boy could swim, and did 
 not think a ducking would do him much 
 harm, and offered to jump off the wall and 
 swim down the river himself. Liar as well 
 as boaster, he received a summary check 
 from Dr. Smith, apart from the reprimand 
 administered to him as the proven ring- 
 leader. 
 
 In these days such a case of outrage 
 would have been brought before a magis-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN: 227 
 
 trate, and the offenders' names sent flying 
 tlirougli newspaper paragraphs. Then, 
 whether to spare the parental feelings of 
 such influential men as Mr. Aspinall, or to 
 save from tarnish the fair fame of the 
 school, or to avert the further debasement 
 of the boys from prison contact, and give 
 them a chance to amend, the school tribu- 
 nal was allowed to be all-sufl&cient. 
 
 Ignominious expulsion was dealt out not 
 only to Laurence Aspinall and to Ned Bar- 
 ret, but to each of the conspirators — Kit 
 Townley, honourably acquitted by them of 
 participation in the final attack, alone 
 escaping with a caution, a severe reprimand, 
 and as severe a flogging ; which special 
 immunity he had purchased by running 
 white-faced to give the alarm. It is possible 
 he scarcely estimated the value of that im- 
 munity at the time. 
 
 But the loud hurrahs which hailed this 
 sentence testified how the Grammar School 
 boys valued their honour as a school, and 
 
 q2
 
 228 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 how proud tliey were to be purged of such 
 offenders. 
 
 Mr. Aspinall, too much agitated to 
 witness his son's public disgrace, waited 
 the result of the inquiry in the Head- 
 Master's House; and if ever Laurence 
 Aspinall felt ashamed of his own mis- 
 conduct, it was when his father refused to 
 take his unworthy hand as they left the 
 door-step, and he heard Dr. Smith's closing- 
 words of reproof mingled with the com- 
 passion for the father, in whose eyes were 
 signs of tears a bad son had drawn. 
 
 Long before Jabez was able to resume 
 his own place in the school, Laurence 
 Aspinall had been removed to an expensive 
 boarding-school at Everton, near Liverpool ; 
 and this time the merchant laid stress on 
 his tendency for " vicious and low pur- 
 suits," and begged that no efforts or 
 expense might be spared to make him a 
 gentleman in all respects. Still he tampered 
 with the truth, lest the school-master (he
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 229 
 
 would be called a Principal in these fac- 
 titious days) shoald refuse to admit a 
 pupil witli such antecedents, and decline 
 the task of eradicating cruelty and in- 
 gratitude. 
 
 Here Laurence certainly mixed only with 
 boys of his own class, from whom money 
 could buy neither flattery nor favour, and 
 where only his own merits could procure 
 either. And here we must leave him, to 
 pursue the fortunes of the boy whose life 
 he had wantonly imperilled. 
 
 Had anything been wanting to bespeak 
 Joshua Brookes's good-will, Jabez supplied 
 it when he interfered to protect the elder 
 Brookes from the derisive indignities of 
 others. Not only to Mrs. Clowes did he 
 rehearse in his oWn peculiar manner the 
 story, as told by Ben Travis, with its sup- 
 plementary drama which had so nearly 
 proved a tragedy, but at such tables as he 
 frequented — Mr. Chadwick's among the 
 rest.
 
 230 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Mr. Ashton, who was present, spoke of 
 being himself a witness to the former 
 scene, and, whilst presenting his inevitable 
 snuff-box to the eccentric chaplain, re- 
 peated his previous observation — 
 
 " I must look after that boy — I must 
 indeed." 
 
 If the Parson had been commonly ob- 
 servant he would have noticed a pair of 
 black eyes fixed in eager attention on his, 
 as he, who rarely uttered a commendation, 
 held forth in praise of his father's cham- 
 pion, the Blue-coat boy ; the said black 
 eyes being matched by the black hair, and 
 somewhat dark skin, of the plain but in- 
 telligent daughter of his host. 
 
 But girls of fifteen were then counted in 
 the category of children, and were taught 
 only to " speak when spoken to," so Ellen 
 Chadwick passed no other commentary on 
 the actions of Jabez than was expressed by 
 her glowing cheeks and eloquent eyes.
 
 231 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 JABEZ GOES INTO THE WOELD. 
 
 A SHARP illness followed tlie pre- 
 -^-^ cipitation of Jabez into the Irk ; but 
 lie was young, had a strong constitution, 
 and, to the satisfaction of all in the College, 
 and many out of it, was able to take his 
 place in the refectory, and clear the beef 
 or the potato-pie from his wooden trencher, 
 before the month expired. Prior to this, 
 he was allowed an afternoon, ere he was 
 well enough to resume fully his routine 
 duties, to show himself to the kind friends 
 who had exhibited most anxiety for his 
 recovery. 
 
 Mrs. Clowes was one of these. Jam,
 
 232 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 jelly, and cakes, never concocted witHn 
 the area of the College, had found their 
 way to his bedside. Grateful for kindness 
 from so unlikely a quarter, Jabez paid his 
 first visit to the shop in Half Street, to 
 thank the queer old lady. But not one 
 word of thanks would she hear. 
 
 ^'Eh, lad, say naught about it; you did 
 your duty, and I did mine, and so weVe 
 quits ;" and shook her open hand a few 
 inches in advance of her face, as if she were 
 shaking a disclaimer out of it. ^' And 
 where are you taking your white face to 
 now?" she asked quickly, the better to 
 turn the tide of his stammering thanks. 
 , '' To Aunt Bess's." 
 
 ''Why, lad, Bess Clegg'll have naught to 
 give thee fit for sick folk to eat. It's 
 much to me if she'll have either a potato 
 or a drop of milk. If she's a bit of 
 jannock, or oat-cake, it's as much as the 
 bargain. "War may be glorious for kings 
 and generals, but it's awful for poor folk !
 
 THE 3IANCHESTEE MAN. 233 
 
 Mesters can't sell their goods, and can't 
 pay wages bout money ; and I've heard 
 that, since th' potato riots in Shudehill 
 last Spring, the folk have been so clemmed 
 that some on them couldna be known by 
 their friends who hadna seen them for 
 awhile; they were naught but skin and 
 bone, poor things !" 
 
 Whilst indulging in this tirade against 
 war and its concomitants, to distract his 
 attention, she bustled about, often with 
 her back to him; then dived into her 
 parlour, and returned with a basket, which 
 she was handing to him, with a charge to 
 *^ take that to Bess, and be sure bring the 
 basket back safe," when she found that 
 Joshua Brookes was standing behind Jabez, 
 amongst waiting customers, with a sharp 
 eye on her proceedings. 
 
 "I say, young Cheat-the-fishes, what 
 have you got to say for yourself ? A nice 
 young ragamuffin you are, to go a-bathing 
 without leave, spoiling your clothes, and
 
 234 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 giving yourself cold ! I hope they gave 
 you plenty of physic, to teach you better," 
 said Joshua roughly, taking the boy by the 
 shoulder, and turning him sharply round 
 to confront him. 
 
 "Yes, sir — they gave me plenty of 
 physic," said Jabez, doffing his cap re- 
 spectfully. "But I did not go bathing ; I 
 got into the water by accident." 
 
 " By what ? Do you call that an acci- 
 dent?" growled the parson, to get at the 
 boy's meaning. 
 
 "An accident done a-purpose," chimed 
 in Mrs. Clowes, whilst her scales jingled, 
 and she and her helper weighed out her 
 commodities for the people at the counter. 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Jabez, composedly; 
 " it must have been an accident. I don't 
 think they really could mean to push me 
 over. I think they only meant to frighten 
 me " 
 
 " Well ?" queried Joshua, seeing that he 
 hesitated.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 235 
 
 "I think one of them slipped, and let 
 go, and then I slipped too, sir," he replied, 
 modestly. 
 
 " Slipped, indeed ! You'd very nearly 
 slipped into the next world !" exclaimed 
 the parson. *' I suppose you'll say next 
 that my poor old father was dragged 
 about by the young wretches by accident 
 too ?" 
 
 The colour of Jabez rose. 
 
 "No, sir; that was very cruel." 
 
 " Oh, you do call some things by their 
 right names (here, let that woman pass, 
 out). I suppose you're glad enough the 
 rascals have got their deserts ?" 
 
 A dubious change came over the boy's 
 face. He did not answer at once ; he 
 hardly knew his own feelings on the 
 subject. The question was repeated. 
 
 " Well, sir, I'm glad they won't be there 
 to torment me any more, but it must be a 
 very dreadful thing for a young gentleman 
 to be turned out of school in disgrace, and
 
 236 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 I don't think I ought to be glad of that. I 
 should never get over it, if it was me." 
 
 " Here, take your basket, and be off with 
 you !" said Joshua Brookes, hurrying him 
 out of the shop, that he might stay and 
 rate the old woman for ''spoiling young 
 Cheat-the-fishes," conscious all the while 
 that he had been doing his best to get the 
 lad a good home in the future. 
 
 Bess and Simon received him with open 
 arms, glad not only to see him well again, 
 but thankful he had been placed where he 
 was, secure from the bitter want which 
 pinched both their stomachs and their 
 faces. To them Mrs. Clowes' basket 
 brought what they had not seen for months 
 — a white loaf and a good lump of cold 
 meat, to say nothing of a tiny paper of tea, 
 and some sugar — those luxuries of the rich 
 — and half-a-crown in another paper. 
 
 How those half-famishing hard-workers, 
 whose homehadbeen denuded of their goods 
 to keep life within them, thanked cross old
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 237 
 
 Mrs. Clowes ! She had made it a festival 
 to tliem indeed, and all for the sake of the 
 boy they had kept. 
 
 There were no pigeons — these had been 
 sold long ago, to pay for provisions^ 
 though much against Simon's will. The 
 cat was there, lean and gaunt : it managed 
 to pick up a subsistence somehow; and 
 the big Bible was there — Simon had not 
 parted with that, though the bright bureau 
 was gone, ay, and the cradle which had 
 been an ark to the orphan. 
 
 The change touched Jabez sorely. Snug- 
 ly housed and fed within the College, 
 rumours of outer poverty made no lasting 
 impression; but here he saw its grim 
 reality, and, sitting down on the three- 
 legged stool, he covered his face with his 
 hands to hide the tears called up by that 
 insight into their impoverished condition. 
 Yet had they some alleviation of their pain. 
 Poverty appeared to have lost half its 
 bitterness for Bess. She had had a letter
 
 238 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 from her long-mourned Tom, and the joy- 
 ful news served to brighten up the visit 
 for Jabez and all. 
 
 It was a long and deeply-repentant 
 letter, of course written by a comrade. It 
 was dated from Badajoz, and had been a 
 weary while in reaching them. He had 
 been wounded in that brilliant assault, and 
 while in hospital had fallen in with another 
 Lancashire lad, also wounded — no other 
 than the boy who had lent a hand to rescue 
 the infant Jabez, and who had been driven 
 to enlist by the sharp pangs of hunger, 
 only two years before. From this young 
 fellow, Private John Smith (Tom was him- 
 self a Corporal), he had learned how griev- 
 ously his Bess had been slandered; but 
 with that knowledge had come the convic- 
 tion that he had condemned her hastily 
 and harshly on mere hearsay, and the 
 letter was incoherent in its remorseful 
 contrition. In his soldier-life he had been 
 tossed hither and thither — known pain.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 239 
 
 and tMrst, and famine ; and said lie owed 
 it all to his own jealous credulity, when he 
 ought to have known so much better. He 
 told of marchings and counter-marchings, 
 battles and bloodshed; but of never one 
 wound to himself, though he had not 
 *' cared a cast of the shuttle " for his life 
 until that bayonet-thrust which had laid 
 him side by side with John Smith, who had 
 lost an eye. But he wound up with a 
 prayer for Bess and himself, and a hope 
 for their reunion, if the war would ever end. 
 He ^' was sick of it." 
 
 All that letter was to Bess and Simon, 
 Jabez could not comprehend ; but he took 
 Mrs. Clowes her empty basket, and went 
 back to the College satisfied that one ray 
 of sunshine lit up the poor home of his 
 friends. 
 
 And Matthew Cooper's last chance was 
 gone. 
 
 Mr, Ashton was what is known in trade
 
 240 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 as a small- ware manufacturer — that is, lie 
 was a weaver of tapes, inkles, fiUetings ; 
 silk, cotton, and worsted laces (for furni- 
 ture) ; carpet bindings, brace-webs, and 
 fringes. Moreover, lie manufactured braces 
 and umbrellas, for wliicli latter liis brotlier- 
 in-law supplied tlie ginghams. He had at 
 work, both in Manchester and at Whaley- 
 Bridge, a number of swivel-engines, the 
 design of which came from those unrivalled 
 tape- weavers, the Dutch, and which would 
 weave twenty-four lengths of tape or bed- 
 lace at one time. Otherwise, the bulk of 
 his workpeople — winders, warpers, brace, 
 fringe, and umbrella-makers — carried away 
 materials to their own homes, and brought 
 back their work in a finished state. 
 
 Mr. Chadwick, as we have mentioned, 
 was a manufacturer of ginghams — this in- 
 cluded checks and fustians ; but much of 
 his trade being foreign, the war had locked 
 up his resources, and his anxieties preyed 
 on his health.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 241 
 
 Mr. Asliton liad suffered less in this 
 particular, not having disdained to take his 
 sensible wife's advice — '^ Never put too 
 many eggs in one basket." Mrs. Ashton, 
 be it said, had a leaning towards '' prover- 
 bial philosophy" more homely and terse 
 than Tupper's, which, vulgar as it is ac- 
 counted now, was in esteem when our 
 century was young; and, had it been other- 
 wise, would have been equally impressive 
 from her deliberately modulated utterance. 
 This same lady had, moreover, an aptitude 
 for business. Mr. Ashton employed a 
 number of young women, and Mrs. Ashton 
 might be found most days in the ware- 
 house, either "putting out" or inspecting 
 the work brought in by them, with a ging- 
 ham wrapper over her " silken sheen." If 
 the footman announced visitors, the wrap- 
 per was thrown aside in a moment, and she 
 stepped into her drawing-room as though 
 fresh from her toilette, and with no atmo- 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 242 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 spliere of dozens, grosses, or great-grosses 
 about her. 
 
 She was wont to say, '^ The eye of a mas- 
 ter does more work than both his hands," 
 accordingly in house or warehouse her active 
 supervision kept other hands from idling, 
 and she certainly dignified whatever duties 
 she undertook, whether she used hands or 
 eyes only. 
 
 In those days a seven-years' apprentice- 
 ship to any trade or business was deemed 
 essential ; apprentices were part and parcel 
 of commercial economy, and when Mr. 
 Ashton spoke of " looking after that boy," 
 it was that he thought Jabez Clegg bade 
 fair to be a fitter inmate and a more re- 
 liable servant than others whose terms 
 were about to expire. 
 
 Through his friend the Eeverend Joshua 
 Brookes he ascertained the boy's age and 
 other particulars, and sought the House- 
 Governor Mr. Terry, and laid before him 
 a proposition to take Jabez Clegg as his
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 243 
 
 apprentice, on very fair terms. He then 
 learned tliat Mr. Shaw, the saddler at the 
 bottom of Market- Street Lane, was also 
 desirous to obtain the same Blue-coat boy 
 as an apprentice, his friend the leather- 
 breeches-maker having named the lad to 
 him. 
 
 At the Easter meeting of feoffees 
 both proposals were laid before them — 
 Simon Clegg, as standing in loco parentis 
 to Jabez, being present. After some 
 little discussion Mr. Ashton's proposal 
 was accepted, to the great satisfaction of 
 the tanner, and in a few days Jabez was 
 transferred to his new master for mutual 
 trial until Ascension Day, when, if all 
 parties were satisfied, his indentures would 
 be signed. As the governor said, it had 
 "been but the toss of a button " whether 
 he had gone to Mr. Shaw or Mr. Ashton : — 
 yet upon that toss of a button the whole 
 future of Jabez depended. 
 
 Jabez Clegg entered on his new career 
 
 r2
 
 244 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 under good auspices — that is, lie bore with 
 him a good character for steadiness and 
 probity, though nothing was said of brilHant 
 parts, or any special talent which he 
 possessed. Indeed, his school-master had 
 said that only his indomitable perseverance 
 had enabled him to keep pace with 
 others. If he had any latent genius, any 
 particular vocation, no one had discovered 
 it; his faculty for disfiguring doors and 
 walls with devices in coloured chalks, 
 picked up amongst the gravel, had been 
 matter for punishment, not praise, and 
 none but the College boys themselves 
 cared to know where the fresh patterns 
 for purses and pincushions came from. 
 Steadiness, perseverance, probity — they 
 were good materials out of which to 
 manufacture a tradesman (so Mr. Ashton 
 thought), and congratulations were mutual. 
 Jabez went, with his new outfit, to his 
 new home under good auspices, inasmuch 
 as both master and mistress were pre-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 245 
 
 possessed in his favour, and they stood in 
 the foremost ranks of those who began to 
 recognise that English apprentices were 
 not bond-slaves in heathendom. Instead 
 of being crammed to sleep like dogs in 
 holes under counters ; left to wash at a 
 pump and wipe themselves where they 
 could ; obliged to sit at a table in a back 
 kitchen, and dip their spoons into one 
 common dish of porridge, or potatoes and 
 buttermilk ; to eat such scraps and refuse 
 as sordid employers, or ill-disposed cooks, 
 chose to set before their primitive Adamite 
 forks — instead of a system like this, from 
 which apprentices (of whatever grade) 
 only emerged at the beginning of this 
 century, the Ashtons' apprentices had a 
 comfortable dormitory in the attic, there 
 was a coarse jack-towel by the scullery-sink 
 for their use, they had their meals with 
 the servants in the kitchen, where was an 
 oak settle by the fire for them when work 
 was over.
 
 246 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 But work did not end with the close of 
 the warehouse. They were expected to 
 keep their attic clean and in order, to 
 cleanse the wooden or pewter platters, or 
 porringers, from which they had dined or 
 supped ; to rinse the horns which had 
 held their table-beer ; to fetch and carry 
 wood, coals, and water, for servants too 
 lazy to do their own work ; and it was not 
 much rest any apprentice had from ^ye or 
 six in a morning until eight or nine at 
 night, when he went to his bed. 
 
 As the youngest apprentice, the roughest 
 of this work fell on Jabez, but, luckily, his 
 training had made him equal to the occa- 
 sion ; though Kezia, the red-faced cook, set 
 herself steadfastly to dislike him, because 
 Mr. Ashton had bespoken her favour for 
 him. In the warehouse, too, the evident 
 good- will of principals roused the jealousy 
 of underlings, so that " good auspices " 
 had their corresponding drawbacks. 
 
 It was not much of a pleasure to Jabez
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 247 
 
 to find KifcTownley also seated as an appren- 
 tice on the kitchen settle ; but the youth 
 seemed disposed to be friendly, and Jabez 
 forbore to create a grievance by recalling 
 unpleasant reminiscences. With Kit Town- 
 ley, who was his senior by a year, a heavy 
 premium had been paid, and on this he 
 was inclined to presume. But neither Mr. 
 nor Mrs. Ashton made any social distinction 
 between the twain, and Jabez was strong 
 enough to hold his own. 
 
 During the few weeks' probation Jabez 
 was transferred from department to de- 
 partment, alike to test his capacity and his 
 own liking for the business. Both proved 
 satisfactory. 
 
 On Ascension Day, 1813, there was 
 another appearance in that ancient room 
 before the College magnates, many of 
 whom, as officers in volunteer regiments, 
 were in full-dress uniform (a dinner 
 pending). The indentures had to be 
 signed, the premium of £4 (returnable to
 
 248 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 the boy wlien his term expired) had to be 
 paid. 
 
 Simon Clegg's best clothes had long 
 been lost in the pawnbroker's bottomless 
 pit ; but some one unknown (mayhap Mrs. 
 Clowes or Mrs. Clough) had sent him over- 
 night a suit of fresh ones, pronounced by 
 him and Bess *' welly as good as new ;" and 
 he presented himself for the important 
 ceremony (overlooked by the painted face 
 of the orphan's benevolent friend, Hum- 
 phrey Chetham) as proud almost of his 
 own restored respectability as of the part 
 he was about to perform. When it came 
 to his turn to sign the document, the little 
 man took the pen with a flourish, as if he 
 were a hero about to perform some mighty 
 action. He stooped to the heavy oaken 
 table, bent his head low, alternately to the 
 right and left, and with his fingers in an 
 unaccountable crump, imprinted his self- 
 taught signature in Roman capitals
 
 THE MAXCHESTEE MAX. 249 
 
 thereon, then handed back the quill as if 
 to say, ' ' The deed is done !" 
 
 Governor, school-master, and feoffees 
 congratulated Mr. Ashton and Jabez both. 
 Simon, with moist eyes, shook Jabez by 
 the hand, and holding the boy's shoulder 
 with his left to look the better in his clear 
 dark eyes, said with deliberate emphasis — 
 
 "Jabez, lad, aw'm preawd on yo' this 
 day. But moind — thah's an honourable 
 neame : do nowt to disgrace it, an' yo'r 
 fortius made !" 
 
 Jabez was too abashed to make reply at 
 the time ; but at the supper given in the 
 kitchen, to mark his installation at Mr. 
 Ashton's — to which Bess and Simon were 
 both invited — Jabez contrived to whisper, 
 
 " You needn't clem any more, Bess ; I'll 
 give you all my wages."'
 
 250 
 
 CHAPTER XV, 
 
 APrRENTICESHIP. 
 
 TABEZ now began liis work in earnest 
 ^ in the packing-room — the very lowest 
 rung of the ladder. Not long did he remain 
 there. The bright colours in the lace and 
 brace rooms had an attraction for him, and 
 he arofued with himself that the better he 
 did the rough work assigned him the sooner 
 he should mount above it. And Jabez the 
 plodding Blue-coat boy, was ambitious. 
 That ambition had a threefold stimulus. 
 
 Manchester people were then, as a rule, 
 steady church and chapel-goers. Mr. 
 Ashton had two pews at the Old Church ; 
 one for his family, the other for servants
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 251 
 
 and apprentices, the attendance of the 
 latter being imperative. Jabez thus 
 came in frequent contact with his old-time 
 friends, from the Blue-coat boys in the 
 Chetham Gallery to the Cleggs, to whom 
 went every penny of his earnings ; their 
 distress, like that of others, having 
 deepened with the continuation of the 
 Napoleonic war. 
 
 Sometimes old Mrs. Clowes, meeting 
 him in the church-yard, would grasp him 
 by the hand, and leave something in it, as, 
 in her old black stuff dress and coloured 
 kerchief tied over her mob-cap, she hurried 
 homewards to scold dilatory handmaids, 
 and put her Christianity in practice 
 amongst her pensioners. 
 
 Now and then Joshua Brookes crossed 
 his path, and if he did not put his hand in 
 his breeches pocket for Jabez — now a well- 
 grown youth — he gave him more than 
 sterling coin in sterling advice, though, 
 unfortunately, in so abrupt and grotesque
 
 252 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 a manner, its effect was frequently lost. 
 Yet one day, when tlie Blue-coat boy had 
 been barely two years at the Mosley Street 
 manufacturer's, he put a spur into the 
 sides of his ambition. 
 
 "Young Cheat-the-fishes, were you ever 
 in Mrs. Chadwick's green parlour ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir — I was there once for half an 
 hour." (The day he took back Miss Ellen's 
 shilling.) 
 
 ''Well, did you read the sermons on the 
 walls?" 
 
 Jabez answered respectfully — 
 
 "I did not see any sermons, sir. I saw 
 some pictures in black frames with gilt 
 roses at the corners." 
 
 '* And didn't look at them, I suppose ?" 
 in a harsh grunt. 
 
 ''Yes, sir, I did ! I was waiting till 
 Mrs. Chadwick had done dinner. They 
 were about two boys — a good and bad 
 apprentice." 
 
 " Oh, then, you did use your eyes! The
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 253 
 
 next time they let you inside that room, 
 just use your understanding too. William 
 Hogarth, the artist, from his grave preaches 
 a sermon to you and your fellows, as good 
 as Parson Gatliffe preached from the pulpit 
 this morning, mark that !" and he turned 
 on his heel with an emphasising nod to fix 
 his sermon on the boy's mind. 
 
 The opportunity came before long. It 
 was customary when an apprentice went 
 with a message to leave him in the hall, or 
 send him into the kitchen ; but Jabez being 
 sent by Mrs. Ashton with several samples 
 of furniture-binding and fringes for her 
 sister's use, he was shown with his parcel 
 into the parlour, where Mrs. Chadwick, 
 neatly attired in a brown stuff dress, with 
 a French cambric kerchief under the square 
 bodice, sat at work with an upholsteress, 
 in the midst of a mass of chintz and 
 moreen, preparing for the new home of 
 Ellen's elder sister Charlotte ; for, in spite 
 of war, distress, or famine, people will marry
 
 254 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 and give in marriage. And had not a 
 glorious peace just been concluded ! 
 
 ElleUj a comely but not pretty girl, about 
 seventeen, whose black eyes and hair were 
 her chief attractions, sat there in a purple 
 bombazine dress, with her sheathed scissors 
 and College pincushion suspended hy a 
 chain from her girdle, plying her needle 
 most industriously. He was not accustomed 
 to parlours, and no doubt his bow was as 
 awkward as his blush ; but he had a mes- 
 sage to deliver, and he did that in a 
 business-like manner. He had to wait 
 until pattern after pattern was tried 
 against the chintz, and calculations made. 
 Mrs. Chadwick, seeing his eyes wander 
 wistfully from picture to picture, courte- 
 ously gave him permission to examine 
 them. 
 
 At once Ellen, who was sitting close 
 under one, rose to act as interpreter. She 
 was recalled by the mild voice of her 
 mother.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 255 
 
 *' Sit down, Ellen ; Jabez Clegg does 
 not require a young lady's help to under- 
 stand those pictures — tliey explain them- 
 selves." 
 
 Ellen went back to her seat and her 
 sewing with a raised colour, and a private 
 impression that the rebuke was uncalled 
 for, though she spoke never a word. Per- 
 haps Mrs. Chad wick thought condescension 
 should have its limits, and did not believe 
 in a young lady's impulsive civility to an 
 apprentice Blue- coat boy. Yet that was 
 not like Mrs. Chadwick. 
 
 Miss Augusta had been staying with her 
 aunt. Part of his commission was to 
 convoy her home ; she was an only child, 
 and too precious to be trusted out alone, 
 though she was in her eleventh year, and 
 the distance was nothing. But so many 
 desperadoes had been let loose by the 
 termination of the war that crime and 
 violence were rampant, footpads infested 
 highways and byways, and Cicily, Au-
 
 256 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 gusta's maid — ex-nurse — was no longer 
 deemed a protection. 
 
 He stood before the last engraving 
 when she — in no awe of her father's 
 apprentice — came dancing into the room 
 in a nankeen dress and tippet, a hat with 
 blue ribands, long washing-gloves which 
 left the elbows bare, and blue shoes tied 
 with a bunch of ribands. 
 
 Bright, beautiful, buoyant — she was a 
 picture in herself ; and Jabez turned from 
 the dingy engraving to think so. She 
 often came tripping into the warehouse 
 or the kitchen, and exchanged a bright 
 word with one or other, and away again ; 
 but Jabez had thought of her only as a 
 prettj playful child until that afternoon. 
 Joshua Brookes pointing Hogarth's 
 lessons had given the one spur ; that 
 lovely brown-eyed, brown-haired maiden, 
 with her simple, " Come, Jabez — I'm 
 ready," had given another. 
 
 She put her little gloved hand in his, after
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN, 257 
 
 bidding her aunt and cousin good-bye, and 
 went dancing, skipping, and chattering by 
 his side down Oldham Sfcreet, and let him 
 lift her over the muddy crossing to Mosley 
 Street, unconscious of the chimerical 
 dreams floating through his apprentice 
 brain all the while. His original ambition 
 to make a home for Simon and Bess, where 
 neither penury nor care should trouble 
 them, dwarfed before the new ideas 
 crowding upon his mind. He had read the 
 sermon on the wall, but the old " Knave of 
 Clubs," as Joshua was called, little thought 
 how that pretty, piquant little fairy, the 
 " master's daughter," would point it with 
 something higher than ambition. 
 
 There were at that period in Manchester 
 two schools for young ladies, which, being 
 celebrated at the time, deserve to be 
 mentioned. The one was situated at the 
 extreme end of Bradshaw Street, looking 
 through its vista across Shudehill to the 
 gaps in brickwork called Thomas Street 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 and Nicholas Croft, where in highly genteel 
 state Mrs. (or Madame, as she insisted on 
 being called) Broadbent superintended the 
 education of a large and very select circle. 
 
 Education must have been at a low ebb 
 when the chief manufacturers of the town 
 consigned their daughters to this pompous, 
 pretentious woman, who could not speak 
 correctly the language she professed to 
 teach. In her attempt to appear the print 
 and pattern of a lady, she ^* clipped the 
 King's English," and made almost as 
 glaring errors as Mrs. Malaprop. Yet, 
 strange to say, she turned out first-class 
 pupils (for the period). The fact is, she 
 was shrewd enough to know her own de- 
 ficiencies, and delegated her duties to 
 others who were in all respects eflBcient. 
 
 Then she was a wonderful trumpeter of 
 her own fame; made frequent visitations 
 at houses where she was well entertained, 
 and her bombast was listened to for the 
 sake of her young charges ; held half-yearly
 
 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 259 
 
 recitations, and also exhibitions of tlie 
 plain sewing, embroidery, knitting, knot- 
 ting, filigrees, tambour, and lace work of 
 her pupils ; and matrons proud of their own 
 daughters' achievements seldom paused to 
 reckon up the tears, the headaches, the 
 heartaches, the sore fingers which those 
 minutely stitched shirts, those fine lace 
 aprons and ruffles, those pictures and 
 samplers had cost. For Madame Broad- 
 bent, besides being a martinet rigid in 
 her rule — having a numbered rack for 
 pattens and slippers, numbered pegs for 
 cloaks and hats, book-bags and work-bags, 
 safe-guards (receptacles for sewing, &c., like 
 a huckster's pocket) and slates, all number- 
 ed likewise — was not of too mild a temper, 
 and had a penchant for pinching her pupils' 
 ears until the blood tinged her nails ; and 
 stocks for the feet, backboards for the 
 shoulders, and dry bread diet were her 
 prescriptions for the cure of such delin- 
 quencies as an unauthorised word, an 
 
 s2
 
 260 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 omitted curtsey, a bag or garment on tlie 
 wrong hook, a dropped stitch, in knitting, 
 a blotted copy, a puckered seam ; and work 
 had to be done and undone until stitches 
 were almost invisible, and little eyes almost 
 blind. She had other peculiarities, had 
 Madame Broadbent — but my portrait is 
 growing too large for its frame, and she 
 was not a large personage at all. 
 
 It was to this delectable individual's 
 school ('* establishments" had not been 
 invented then, or hers would have been 
 one) that Miss Augusta Ashton was con- 
 signed for conversion into a well-behaved, 
 well-informed, useful, and accomplished 
 young lady. 
 
 Her cousins, the Misses Chadwick, had 
 in their turn escaped from this penitentiary 
 for the manufacture of ladyhood. But in 
 Piccadilly was a school of a very different 
 description, where young ladies of talent 
 and fortune went to qualify for wifehood ; 
 and here at this time Ellen Chadwick was
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 261 
 
 finishing her education, with many others, 
 in learning the culinary art in all its branches. 
 
 How came it that Madame Broadbent's 
 school flourished and survived the decay of 
 its neighbourhood, being in existence when 
 the writer of this was a child, and the other 
 had died and been forgotten, save by the 
 antiquary, before she was born ? 
 
 To fetch Miss Ashton home from Ma- 
 dame Broadbent's on dark or stormy 
 afternoons, was the understood duty of one 
 or other of the apprentices ; but Kit Town- 
 ley, having no more liking for wet weather 
 than a cat, generally contrived to be out of 
 earshot when his services were required. It 
 devolved on Jabez, therefore, to carry the 
 grey dufel hooded cloak with which to 
 cover the dainty one of scarlet kerseymere, 
 to tie the pattens on the tiny feet, to carry 
 the school-bag, and hold the brilliant blue 
 gingham umbrella over the head elevated by 
 the pattens so much nearer to his shoulder,
 
 262 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 and to be thanked by one of the sweetest 
 voices in the world. 
 
 It was dangerous work, though no one 
 knew it, least of all Jabez. True, she was 
 only a child, but she was tall for her age. 
 And was he much more than a boy ? A 
 boy let out from the seclusion of an almost 
 monastic institution, to whom her little 
 airs and graces, her petty vanities, her very 
 waywardness and caprice, only made her 
 beauty more piquant. 
 
 Madame Broadbent's infallibility being 
 taken for granted, all attempts to make 
 known school troubles and grievances were 
 met with '' Never tell tales out of school," 
 from Mrs. Ashton, but they were poured 
 fresh and warm into the ear of Jabez, as 
 she trotted by his side ; and he, his school- 
 days unforgotten, listened with ready 
 sympathy. And this went on as months 
 and years went by, adding to her stature, 
 narrowing the space between them ; and he 
 still did duty as her humble escort, unless
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 263 
 
 wlien Kit Townley was expressly told off for 
 the service, and went reluctantly, grumbling 
 at being made "lackey to a school miss." 
 
 Yet Kit Townley did not think it any 
 degradation to play practical jokes on Jabez, 
 or on Kezia, leaving the younger apprentice 
 to bear the blame. Billets of wood, 
 scuttles of coal, pails of water brought in 
 for her use by Jabez, were dexterously re- 
 moved to doorways and other unsuspected 
 places, where "cook" was sure to stumble 
 over them, and then cuff Jabez for his 
 carelessness or wilfulness, all protestations 
 on his part being disregarded. Creeping 
 behind the settle where Jabez sat watching, 
 and perhaps basting the roast for the 
 master's table for late dinners on company 
 days, he would steal his sly arm round the 
 corner, himself unseen, and lifting the 
 wheel of the spit out of the smoke- jack 
 chain, bring spit and all thereon into the 
 dripper, with a splash which brought the 
 irate Kezia down on astounded Jabez with
 
 264 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 whatsoever weapon of offence came nearest 
 to her hand, from the paste-pin to the 
 basting-ladle, or even a saucepan-lid ; it was 
 all one to Kezia. 
 
 From Kezia, however, these frequent 
 chances and mischances went to Kezia's 
 mistress ; and appearances being against 
 him, the very steadiness of denial, unac- 
 companied with any accusation of another 
 (other waggeries of Kit Townley in the 
 warehouse being also laid on his shoulder), 
 Mrs. Ashton's faith in tbe youth was some- 
 what shaken, and he was conscious of 
 being under a cloud. But still he kept on 
 his way and looked to the end. 
 
 The cloud dispersed after a while. Kit 
 Townley was something of a glutton, with 
 a very boy's love of pastry and sweets. It 
 so happened that on a special occasion 
 (rejoicing for peace or something) Kezia 
 had set aside in her roomy pantry, the 
 door of which fastened only with a button, 
 a tray of tartlets, custards, a trifle, moulds
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 265 
 
 of jelly and blanc-mange, and other 
 dainties for a large party. Kit's moutli 
 watered to get at these things. Often and 
 often had he stolen the fruit from under a 
 pie-crust, and sat silent while Jabez bore 
 the blame, but now he meditated a more 
 sweeping raid. There was a fine retriever 
 in the yard. Watching Kezia out of the 
 way, he crammed mouth and pockets with 
 the pastry, and made an inroad into the 
 trifle. Then he whistled to Nelson, raised 
 the dog on his hind feet, and printed the 
 forepaws on the pantry-shelf, dishes, and 
 tart-tray, and round the button of the 
 door. 
 
 But he was compelled to wait until bed- 
 time to fairly enjoy his spoil, and then 
 could not manage it unknown to his com- 
 panion. Hoping to close the other's mouth 
 literally and figuratively, he oifered him a 
 share, but Jabez told him he was not a 
 receiver of stolen goods, and left him to 
 digest that with his feast. It was a
 
 266 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 harder morsel than even Jabez knew. 
 
 The next morning before breakfast they 
 were in the warehouse, when there was 
 heard a terrible commotion in the yard. 
 From the back windows Kezia was seen 
 belabouring Nelson with a broomstick, her 
 face redder than ordinary, whilst the poor 
 beast whined piteously. 
 
 Jabez ran down to interpose, and the 
 infuriated woman turned on him, then ran 
 in her rage to fetch her mistress to witness 
 the damage done, and the footprints of the 
 depredator, and to own that punishment 
 was just. 
 
 But as Mrs. Ashton ascended the ware- 
 house stairs that forenoon, she heard Jabez 
 and Kit loud in altercation, and before 
 they were aware she possessed a clue to 
 much that had gone before. 
 
 Something Jabez had said was answered 
 by a loud guffaw from Kit, and the words — 
 
 " Let them laugh that win. I call it a 
 deuced good joke."
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 267 
 
 " And I call it cowardly and dishonour- 
 able to let the poor beast suffer for your 
 greediness," Jabez answered indignantly. 
 
 '^ Now don't you put in your oar, young 
 yellow-skirt. I'll let no charity-boy hector 
 over me," blustered Kit. 
 
 Jabez put down a bundle of umbrella 
 whalebones he had on his shoulder to con- 
 front the other, then counting ferules into 
 dozens. Umbrellas used to have brass 
 ferrules, like elongated thimbles, on the 
 sticks. 
 
 "Look you, Kit, I've borne many a 
 scurvy trick of yours without saying a 
 word, but I will not even give the sanction 
 of silence to dishonesty, and will not see a 
 noble animal ill-used to screen a coward." 
 
 "Won't you?" sneered Kit, "then we'll 
 see whose word weighs heaviest." 
 
 Mrs. Ashton came into the room. 
 
 "Townley," said she, "your word will 
 not weigh down a feather henceforth," add- 
 ing, in the same dignified tone, " Are those
 
 268 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 ferules counted? Jackson is waiting for 
 them." 
 
 No further notice was taken, but Jabez 
 soon found he stood on a firmer footing 
 in house and warehouse. Mrs. Ashton 
 remarked to her husband, as she finished 
 dressing for their dinner-party — 
 
 " It was a slight circumstance, William, 
 but straws show which way the wind 
 blows." 
 
 And he tapped his silver snuff-box, and 
 said, " Just so ;" then, courteously offering 
 his hand to his fine-looking wife, led her 
 from the room, her purple velvet robe trail- 
 ing after her, the plumes on her head nod- 
 ding as they went.
 
 269 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 IN WAR AND PEACE. 
 
 A CLAP of thunder burst over Europe^ 
 -^-^ and the great war eagle flapped his 
 monstrous wings again. Napoleon had 
 escaped from Elba ere crops had had time 
 to grow on his trampled battle-fields ; yet 
 crops of men rose ripe for the sickle, and 
 home expectations were dashed to the 
 ground. 
 
 How many an anxious parent, how many 
 a longing, love-sick maiden, looked for her 
 warrior back from Canada or the Continent, 
 if only on furlough or sick-leave ! How 
 many a weary soldier, sated with bloody 
 looked for discharge with pension or re-
 
 270 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 ward, and thirsted for tlie fountain of home 
 joys ! 
 
 And from liow many lips was the cup of 
 delight dashed when the cry "To arms!" 
 rang out from mount to vale, from peak 
 to peak, from town to town, and the sheath- 
 ed sword flashed forth to light, and forges 
 belched forth flame through day and night, 
 preparing for fresh holocausts in the new 
 carnival of blood ! 
 
 Trade centres at all such times are most 
 convulsed, as being also centres of hu- 
 manity — depots whence fresh relays are 
 drafted from the ranks of men whose 
 peaceful work is at a sudden standstill. 
 But that war-blast came like a fiery flash, 
 and commerce, only then a feeble conva- 
 lescent, sank crushed and hopeless. 
 
 Mr. Chadwick felt it keenly, and, but 
 that his more cautious and wealthy brother- 
 in-law came to his help with hand as open 
 as his snuff-box, his credit must have gone. 
 His two eldest sons had gone from him,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 271 
 
 drawn away by the pliantom Glory. 
 One, Bicliard, was a midshipman upon 
 CoUingwood's ship ; the other, Herbert, a 
 lieutenant in the 72nd, or Manchester Vo- 
 lunteers, had departed with his regiment to 
 fight in the Peninsula. A third son, John, 
 had been left to do his quiet duty in the 
 counting-house, but Death had laid its 
 clutches on him soon after his sister 
 Charlotte's marriage, and Ellen alone kept 
 the house from utter desolation. 
 
 She was a girl of strong feelings and 
 quick impulses, but pursued her way with 
 so little show or pretence, she was hardly 
 accredited with all the comfort she brought 
 to the hearth ; and scarcely her mother even 
 suspected how that hidden heart of hers 
 could throb — how intense were her emo- 
 tions. 
 
 Her love for every member of the family 
 was deep, but when her brother John died, 
 after the first terrible outburst of grief she 
 dried her tears, and by mere force of
 
 272 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 will set herself to sootlie tliose who had 
 lost a son. The prolonged absence of the 
 others had been fruitful of pain, and the 
 glad prospect of Herbert's return now 
 bliofhted came to her, as to father and 
 mother, with a shock like a stab. 
 
 There was another hearth we have ere- 
 while visited — a hearth which, thanks to 
 Jabez, and a few months' regular employ- 
 ment for the batting-rods and the tanner's 
 plunger, was less poverty-stricken than it 
 had been — and where Hope had held out 
 delusive banners to herald a soldier's return, 
 only to furl them again for another march, 
 before eye could meet eye, or lip meet lip. 
 
 Thirteen years had come and gone since 
 last Tom Hulme and Bessy Clegg had 
 looked woefully upon each other — thirteen 
 years of unrecorded trial and suffering — 
 yet still they were apart. The home in 
 which he had known her first, Tanner's 
 Bridge, on which he had first made love to 
 her, had been swept away to make room
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 273 
 
 for Ducie Bridge and a new liigli-road ; 
 and the best years of her womanhood were 
 passing too. Would he ever come back 
 whilst grey-haired Simon could bless their 
 union ? Would he ever come back again ? 
 Tears fell on Bess's batting ; and Simon had 
 not one word of comfort to give her. Even 
 Matt Cooper, who had long since resigned 
 himself to his widowhood, was magnani- 
 mous enough to be sorry. 
 
 The new war between the Corsican Vam- 
 pire and allied Europe was fortunately of 
 short duration ; but how much of carnage 
 and misery was compressed into that 
 campaign which had its brilliant close at 
 Waterloo ! 
 
 In the onset of that terrible conflict, 
 Herbert Chadwick and a cousin, fighting 
 side by side, fell in a storm of grape-shot 
 like green corn under an untimely shower 
 of hail, and their blood went to fertilise the 
 Belgian farmer's future crops of wheat. 
 
 Herbert was his father's favourite son. 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Not a mail-morning passed but tlie old 
 man made one of the crowd hurrying down 
 the narrow way called Market Street Lane 
 to the Exchange, to catch a sight of what- 
 ever bulletins might be posted up ; and, 
 his own mind relieved, sent an apprentice 
 from the Fountain Street warehouse with 
 the words, ^' All's well !" to cheer up those 
 at home. That dreadful morning when 
 his fearful eye ran down the black list of 
 the killed at Waterloo, and rested on Lieu- 
 tenant Chad wick's name, the letters seemed 
 to turn blood-red ; he shrivelled up like a 
 maple-leaf in a blighting wind; his face 
 and limbs began to twitch, and he fell for- 
 ward into the arms of a bystander, in a 
 fit. 
 
 He was carried by compassionate hands 
 to the nearest house, that of John Shaw 
 the saddler. A merchant on 'Change (Mr. 
 Aspinall) undertook to break the doubly 
 calamitous intelligence to Mrs. Chad wick. 
 Dr, Hardie, whom the general excitement
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 275 
 
 had drawn to the spot, was with him in an 
 instant, his white neckcloth was loosened, 
 and, whipping out a lancet, the doctor bled 
 him in the arm without delay. He rallied 
 sufficiently to bear lifting into a carriage, 
 kindly placed at the doctor's disposal to 
 convey him home. 
 
 Dr. Hull was already in waiting. All 
 that their united skill could suggest was 
 tried. His recovery was slow and imper- 
 fect : he dragged his right leg after him ; 
 he was paralysed for life. He was not a 
 young man, and the supreme shock, coming 
 as it did above a pressure of commercial 
 difficulties, had been too much for him. 
 
 It was an overwhelming disaster ; but in 
 anxiety and active care for the stricken 
 one, whose life was in imminent peril, the 
 sharp edge of the keener stroke was blunt- 
 ed for Ellen and her mother. 
 
 The Ashtons were, as ever, kind and 
 thoughtful. 
 » "William," said Mrs. Ashton medita- 
 WL t2
 
 276 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 tively to lier husband over the tea-urn, the 
 day after Mr. Chadwick's attack, " we must 
 not forget that if John is not related to 
 us, Sarah" (Mrs. Chadwick) "and Ellen 
 are. ' Blood is thicker than water ;' and it 
 will not do, for their sakes, to let John's 
 business go to rack and ruin for want of 
 supervision." 
 
 " Just so, just so," he replied reflectively, 
 taking his snuflt-box out of his pocket me- 
 chanically, and putting it back again un- 
 opened, as contrary to tea-table propriety ; 
 " I have been thinking the same myself. I 
 will go round to the warehouse to-morrow, 
 and see how matters stand ; we must keep 
 things ship-shape somehow till John is 
 himself again." 
 
 And he was as good as his word, though 
 he had really never thought about it until 
 prompted by his clear-headed wife. He 
 had a habit of thus falling in with her sug- 
 gestions, though had any one hinted that 
 he followed the lead of a woman, so much
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 277 
 
 younger ttan himself too, he would have 
 rejected the imputation with scorn. But 
 with returning peace came joyful restora- 
 tions to many homes, humble as well as 
 lofty. 
 
 Before the time of their extreme priva- 
 tion, before even Simon was out of work, 
 he had taken one of the smallest of the 
 garden-plots on the higher ground on the 
 opposite side of the Irk, and cultivated it 
 in what little leisure he had, Bess giving 
 him a helping hand occasionally. And by 
 the sale of penny posies to Sunday ramblers 
 from the town, and herbs and salad to the 
 market women in Smithy door, he did his 
 best to beat back the gaunt wolf when the 
 wolf came. 
 
 Bess had laid by her batting- wands, put 
 a turf in the grate to kindle up a handful 
 of cinders and slack to boil their supper- 
 porridge, for, though Autumn was striding 
 on, they could not waste fuel on a mid-day 
 fire; Simon was away working in his
 
 278 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 garden, whilst tlie daylight held ; and she 
 sat, as she frequently did now, on a low 
 stool in front of the grate, her elbows on 
 her knees, and her head on her hands, 
 watching, in a kind of hazy dream, the red 
 glow creeping through the heart of the 
 turf, when a footstep on the threshold 
 caused her to turn round. 
 
 Like a picture framed by the doorway, 
 stood the tall figure of a bronzed soldier, 
 with his left arm in a sling. Before the 
 sharp cry of joy had well left her lips, his 
 other arm was around her — both hers 
 around his neck ; their lips met in a long 
 kiss, which told of pain and trouble past, 
 and love through all ; and then her head 
 fell on his shoulder in a fit of convulsive 
 sobbing such as had not shook her frame 
 for years. 
 
 Sorrow and joy have both their baptism 
 of tears ! 
 
 It was a glad sight for Simon to see 
 them sitting, with their hands locked in
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 279 
 
 eacli otlier's, side by side on an old box 
 wliicli served them for a seat — all Simon s 
 lost furniture had not come back — silent 
 from excess of liappiness, yet radiant as 
 though the glow of youth were returning 
 in the Midsummer of their lives. 
 
 In the roughest war-time the common re- 
 quirements of life have to be satisfied, and 
 peaceful trades and arts are of necessity 
 carried on, albeit they flourish not. And 
 the farther from the seat of war, and the 
 less private interest is involved, the less 
 business and household routine is infringed 
 on. 
 
 Thus Mr. Ashton, whose large capital 
 had enabled him to bide the issues of the 
 Continental and American stoppage of 
 trade, and who had no nearer relatives in 
 danger than his wife's nephews, pursued 
 his way in comparative quiet. Indeed, he 
 was an easy-going man, with much less 
 vigour of character than his wife ; and she 
 bore little resemblance to her own sister.
 
 280 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 So we may carry our readers away from 
 tlie poorly-furnislied room in a fetid Long 
 Millgate yard, leaving the reunited lovers 
 to the enjoyment of the present and their 
 reminiscences of the past, and look in upon 
 the Ashtons in their cosy tea-room before 
 Waterloo cast a black shadow over the 
 family. 
 
 It was a spacious apartment (as were 
 most of the rooms in that habitation), the 
 walls above the surbase (a wooden mould- 
 ing some two feet above the skirting-board) 
 were painted a warm dove-colour, the 
 surbase an^d all below in two shades of 
 light blue. The window tax — a result of 
 war — laid an embargo on light, by restrict- 
 ing size and number, so the house, like 
 most in the neighbourhood, having been 
 built subsequently to " Billy Pitt's " obnox- 
 ious impost, there were only two windows, 
 and those were narrow. They were draped 
 with heavy curtains, and festooned valances 
 of dove-coloured moreen, trimmed with
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 281 
 
 blue orris-lace, and worsted-bullion fringe, 
 with spiral silken droplets here and there 
 to shimmer in the rays of sun or chandelier. 
 For there was a chandelier, of fanciful 
 device, pendent from the wonderfully 
 moulded ceiling, a septenary of lacquered 
 serpents, whose interlaced and twisted 
 tails met upwards, separated below in 
 graceful coils, and branching out their 
 seven heads, turned up their gaping jaws 
 to close them on wax-lights. The chande- 
 lier was no misnomer ; but the fiery serpents 
 kept their flames for state occasions, when 
 the serpent branches on each, side the long 
 Venetian looking-glass, between the win- 
 dows, were on duty likewise. There was 
 another Yenetian glass above the high 
 painted chimney-piece, so elaborately carv- 
 ed, but here the serpent candelabra lit the 
 room for common use, and were supple- 
 mented with lights in tall silver candlesticks 
 upon the centre table. 
 
 Spanish mahogany alike were chairs, and
 
 282 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 table, and Miss Augusta's grand piano — 
 ranged against tlie wall from the door, so tliat 
 tlie window light should fall upon the keys — 
 and chairs and tables were alike club-footed, 
 massive, and plain ; there were two folded 
 card- tables, a cellaret, and a work-table, all 
 with tapering legs and club-feet ; and there 
 was a ponderous sofa on the flower-besprent 
 Brussels carpet, which, without the adven- 
 titious aid of artificial steel springs, was 
 elastic and soft, and wooed the weary to 
 rest aching limbs or aching head upon its 
 cushions. There were no antimacassars — 
 hair-seating did not soil readily. 
 
 The air was odorous with rose, lavender, 
 and jessamine, for the windows were both 
 open, and what little air there was stirring 
 swept over a large Summer nosegay in a 
 china vase between the windows. The 
 mahogany tea-board was set with miniature 
 unhandled cups and saucers of china, more 
 precious than the fragrant decoction they 
 were designed to hold ; the brass tea-urn
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 283 
 
 hissed and spluttered ; Mrs. Asliton in a 
 rich dress sat at the table to infuse the 
 tea; Mr. Ashton had drawn his softly- 
 cushioned easy-chair nearer ; it was past 
 five by the tall clock in the hall, and Miss 
 Augusta had not presented herself. 
 
 As a thorough business woman, Mrs. 
 Ashton was punctuality itself. She expect- 
 ed her family to be punctual also. Five 
 o'clock, the Manchester hour for tea, and 
 no Augusta ! 
 
 " James " (to the footman), '* inquire for 
 Miss Ashton — she is not kept in at school, 
 it is a holiday." 
 
 As the man retired, Augusta, in a white 
 cambric frock heavy with tambour-work, 
 tripped in at the door, her diaper pinafore 
 not so clean as it might have been, her 
 hands full of something which she set down 
 on a side table. 
 
 " It is past five o'clock, Augusta ; where 
 have you been until now ? And how camo 
 Cicily to send you in to tea with a soiled
 
 '284 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 pinafore?" asked Mrs. Ashton, with tlie 
 quiet dignity which seldom relaxed. 
 
 " Is it ? I did not hear the clock strike, 
 I was so busy, and Cicily has not seen my 
 pinafore," was Augusta's light consecutive 
 reply. 
 
 "So busy! — Cicily not seen you!" her 
 mother exclaimed in surprise. "Let me 
 look at your hands. I am shocked, Au- 
 gusta 1 What would Mrs. Broadbent say?" 
 — the hands were worse than the- pinafore 
 — " Have I not told you repeatedly that 
 ' cleanliness is next to godliness ?' Go to 
 Cicily and be washed immediately, or you 
 -can have no tea." 
 
 Augusta pouted. 
 
 "Must I, papa?" 
 
 The management of this child was the 
 only point on which Mr. and Mrs. Ashton 
 differed. 
 
 "Well, my dear, your mamma says so, 
 but I think for this once it may be over- 
 looked, if you will be more careful another
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 285 
 
 time," said he, willing to excuse and tem- 
 porise. 
 
 " ' Only this once,' William, ' is the 
 parent of thrice,' " responded Mrs. Ashton, 
 gravely, as she poured out the tea, giving 
 something like milk-and-water to Miss 
 Augusta. ^' You will spoil that child, and 
 if you spoil her to-day, she will spoil herself 
 to-morrow. However, as you are inclined 
 to tolerate that which I think disrespectful 
 to us, and wanting in self-respect on the 
 child's part, I can say no more." 
 
 Thus Mrs. Ashton yielded against her 
 judgment, Mr. Ashton took out his snuff- 
 box, to put it back like a culprit, and Miss 
 Augusta sat down to the table, not know- 
 ing whether to be more pleased or sorry 
 that she had got her own way. 
 
 To turn the subject, Mr. Ashton asked — 
 
 *' What is that you put on the card-table, 
 my dear?" 
 
 '' Oh ! I'll show you," and away the
 
 286 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 young lady was running, only to be recalled 
 by lier mother's decided — 
 
 ''After tea, Augusta." 
 
 So after tea it was tliat Miss Augusta 
 Ibrought her treasure to her father — sundry 
 sheets of paper, on which scraps of 
 variously-coloured leather had been arrang- 
 ed and pasted in ornamental patterns, floral 
 and geometrical, aided by the stamps em- 
 ployed in piercing brace-ends for the em- 
 broiderers, and in cutting stars to cover 
 the umbrella- wheels inside. 
 
 " Who did those ?" asked mother and 
 father in a breath. 
 
 " Jabez Clegg, in the warehouse. Aren't 
 they pretty ?" was Augusta's ready reply, 
 as she looked admiringly on her curious 
 pictures. 
 
 " Oh ! then that accounts for your being 
 late, and in that condition at the tea-table," 
 said Mrs. Ashton, as she glanced from 
 the rich designs before her to the sullied 
 hands and pinafore.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 287 
 
 *' And so Jabez Clegg has been wasting 
 our leather to make playthings for you ?" 
 remarked Mr. Ashton interrogatively, in a 
 not unkincily tone of voice. 
 
 " No, he hasn't !" answered little miss 
 briskly. ^^ He only used the waste tiny 
 bits. I wanted to take a big piece to 
 make a housewife " (a case for thread and 
 needles) " and he would not let me have it. 
 He said he had no right to give it, and I 
 had no right to take it. Was he right, 
 mamma ?" 
 
 [Along with many other vain fashions, 
 "papa" and ''mamma" had come over 
 from France to supersede our more sterling 
 *' father" and "mother," with other re- 
 fugees from the Eevolution.] 
 
 '' Yes, my dear, quite right ; but I wish 
 my little daughter would not run so much 
 into the kitchen and warehouse among 
 the apprentices," said the mother kindly, 
 smoothing down the light brown hair, in 
 which the sunbeams seemed to weave
 
 288 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 golden threads. " It is not becoming in a 
 young lady." 
 
 Mr. Asliton, who had been all the while 
 examining the glowing devices before him, 
 interrupted her with — 
 
 " I think I have discovered a new faculty 
 in our apprentice. I shall buy Jabez Cle gg 
 a box of colours to-morrow. We are sadly 
 in want of fresh patterns, and I think he 
 can make them ;" and Mr. Ashton took a 
 large pinch of snuff on the strength of his 
 discovery. 
 
 And Jabez, for the first time in his life 
 the possessor of paints and brushes, became 
 valuable to his master.
 
 289 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN THE WAREHOUSE. 
 
 II /TIJT ABILITY is the epitapli of worlds. 
 -^'-■- Change alone is changeless. People 
 drop out of the history of a life as of a 
 land, though their work or their influence 
 remains. A passing word may suffice to 
 dismiss such from our pages. 
 
 The Eeverend John Gresswell had been 
 taken by Death fi^om the Chetham College 
 school-room before more than half the term 
 of Jabez Clegg's pupilage had run. Dr. 
 Stone's resignation of his librarianship fol- 
 lowed close on his discovery of the half- 
 drowned boy on the dairy-steps. After a 
 long engagement with a young lady who 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 refused many eligible offers, and withstood 
 mucli parental persuasion for his sake, lie 
 — the curate of St. John's Church — accept- 
 ed the first vacant living in the gift of the 
 college whereof he was fellow. A bridal 
 closed their almost Jacob's courtship, and 
 the constant couple retired to the seclusion 
 of Wooton Rivers, where his learning and 
 eloquence had seldom more appreciative 
 auditory than smock-f rocked Wiltshire rus- 
 tics and their families. 
 
 About the same time, or not long 
 after, old Brookes was missed from the 
 Packhorse, and the Ring-o'-Bells, and 
 the Apple-Tree, and the Sun Inn — the 
 breeches-maker and his neighbours ceased 
 to hear his foul and offensive maunder- 
 ings and imprecations as he staggered 
 past to his son's home, there to test his 
 endurance. He had gone home to his 
 mother-earth, sober and silent for ever- 
 more. And Parson Brookes, left to his 
 books and his pigeons, sent in his resigna- 
 
 4
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 291 
 
 tion, and the Grammar- School knew him 
 no more as a master. So the boys felt 
 themselves free to take greater liberties 
 with him than ever, and kept his hot blood 
 for ever on the simmer. 
 
 As all these changes preceded the change 
 which converted Jabez from a Blue-coat 
 boy into Mr. Ashton's apprentice, so were 
 they anterior to the changes wrought by 
 war in the homes of the Chadwicks and 
 the Cleggs — changes differing even more 
 widely than did the two homes. 
 
 Poverty had made sad havoc amongst 
 Simon Clegg's household goods ; but Tom 
 Hulme had not come home empty-handed, 
 and soon their furniture came back, or was 
 replaced, and the three rooms brightened 
 up wonderfully. Though Simon s flowers 
 brought pence to his pocket as well as the 
 other produce of his garden, he had always 
 a spare posy for the broken jug on window- 
 sill or mantelshelf ; and Bess, full-hearted, 
 if not full of work, sent her voice quivering 
 
 u2
 
 292 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 through that unmusical yard in songs of 
 gladness and rejoicing. 
 
 Very little fresh wooing was necessary. 
 To people who had been so stinted as they 
 in common with others had been, Tom's 
 pension seemed more than it was ; and no 
 sooner was he able to discard his sling 
 than he talked of immediate marriage, and 
 was wonderfully sanguine about obtaining 
 work as soon as liis left arm regained its 
 old power — which it never did. It was no 
 use setting up a loom ; he could no longer 
 throw the shuttle back. He would have 
 to seek some other employment. But 
 thousands of other men were seeking em- 
 ployment too — men with the full use of all 
 their limbs — men who had not disqualified 
 themselves for peaceful arts by " going 
 soldiering;" and Tom Hulme stood little 
 chance. Mr. Clough would have taken him 
 on as a timekeeper, but lack of penmanship 
 was a barrier in the way. 
 
 Lamenting this in the presence of Jabez,
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 298 
 
 the youth offered to be his instructor ; and 
 with the permission of Mr. Ashton, who 
 granted leave of absence, set him copies 
 and gave him lessons on Sunday afternoons, 
 at first on an old slate, to save the cost of 
 paper, which was dear. And then, at Mr, 
 Ashton's suggestion, Jabez superadded 
 arithmetic, thus keeping himself in practice, 
 besides helping one dear to those who had 
 helped him. 
 
 Of course, a weekly or fortnightly lesson 
 was not much; but the disabled soldier 
 was a persevering pupil, and brought a 
 clear head and an eager desire to his task. 
 The maintenance of a better home for 
 Bess depended on it. 
 
 About this time, a matter transpired at 
 the Ashtons' which had a material influence 
 on the fortunes of the Cleggs. Though the 
 house of Mr. Ashton was in Mosley Street, 
 the premises extended as far as Back Mosley 
 Street, where was the warehouse door. The 
 workpeople entered at a side door under a
 
 294 THE MANCHESTEE MAN. 
 
 gateway which led to the stable, gig-house, 
 and courtyard between house and ware- 
 house, guarded by the black retriever, 
 Xelson. 
 
 You may look in vain for house and 
 warehouse now. A magnificent block of 
 stone warehouses, having threefold front- 
 age, occupies the site. 
 
 More than once, Jabez Clegg, frequently 
 entrusted with outdoor business requiring 
 promptitude and accuracy, came upon Kit 
 Townley and one or other of the tassel- 
 makers or fringe weavers in close confer- 
 ence under the dim gateway at closing-time 
 on Saturdays, or in the still darker doorway 
 at the stair-foot of the workmen's entrance. 
 The first time they moved aside to let him 
 pass, afterwards they separated hastily ; 
 but not before Jabez, who had quick ears, 
 caught the chink of money as it passed 
 from one to the other. 
 
 On the first of these occasions, his atten- 
 tion was barely arrested ; it was the repeti-
 
 THE :.iANCHESTEE :*ia:n-. 295 
 
 tion and the avoidance wliicli struck liim 
 with its air of secrecy, and set him ponder- 
 ing what business his fellow-apprentice 
 could have with the hands out of proper 
 place and time. He knew him to be not 
 over-scrupulous. He had seen him at 
 Knott-Mill Fair and Dh't Fair (so called 
 from its being held in muddy November), 
 or Kersall Moor Races, with more money 
 to spend iu pop, nuts, and gingerbread, 
 shows and merry-go-rounds, flying boats 
 and flying boxes, fighting cocks and fighting 
 men, than he could possibly have saved out 
 of the sum his father allowed him for 
 pocket-money, even if he had been of the 
 saving kind ; and, coupling all these things 
 toofether, Jabez was far from satisfied. 
 He was aware that of late years stock- 
 taking had been productive of much 
 uneasiness to both Mr. and Mrs. Ashton. 
 There were deficiences of raw material in 
 more than one department, for whicli it 
 was impossible to account, save that the
 
 296 THE MAXCHESTEH MAX. 
 
 quantity accredited to '' waste " was far 
 out of reasonable proportion. 
 
 Mr. Asliton, suspecting systematic pecu- 
 lation or embezzlement (of wbich many 
 masters were complaining), had privately 
 communicated with Joseph Nadin, the 
 deputy constable, a gnarled graft from 
 Bow Street, who bore the official character 
 of extraordinary vigilance and smartness. 
 He was supposed to set a watch on work- 
 people and others, but nothing came to 
 light. Perhaps he was too busy manufac- 
 turing political offences, or hunting down 
 political offenders, to look after the interests 
 of private manufacturers. Sure it is that 
 silk, worsted, webs, and gingham once 
 gone were not to be traced. Jabez was 
 also aware that a shade rested on the 
 establishment of which he was an item, 
 and felt that it behoved him to clear it 
 away for his own sake, if possible. 
 
 Since the discovery of his faculty for 
 design, much of his time had been occupied
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAX. 297 
 
 at a desk witli pencils and colours, making 
 patterns for the wood-turner, the mould- 
 coverer, the tassel-maker, the fringe- 
 weaver ; for bell-ropes, brace-webs, carpet 
 and furniture-bindings ; and although some 
 of these things admitted but of little 
 variety, there was plenty found for him to 
 do. 
 
 This was well-pleasing enough to Jabez, 
 but the College ofl&cials, who never lose 
 sight of the boys they apprentice, demurred. 
 His indentures provided that he should 
 learn small- ware-manufacturing in all its 
 branches; and pattern-designing, if part 
 and parcel, was only one branch. Mr. 
 Ashton was too just not to assent, and 
 Jabez went to his active employment again. 
 But he had a love for his new art, and an 
 interest in his master's interest, which 
 prompted him to say — 
 
 "If it would be all the same to you, sir, 
 I could draw patterns before breakfast, or 
 in the dinner-hour, or in an evening, if
 
 298 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 Kezia had some one else to wait on 
 her." 
 
 The inevitable snuff-box came out, Mr. 
 Ashton's head went first on one side, then 
 on the other, as he took a long pinch be- 
 fore he answered. 
 
 " No, lad, it won't be all the same to me, 
 nor to you either," he said at length, and 
 Jabez began to look rueful. '* You're a lad 
 of uncommon parts, and I'm willing enough 
 to find them employment. But if you 
 work extra hours, apprentice or no appren- 
 tice, you must have extra pay. So you 
 see, Jabez, it won't be the same to either 
 of us. You shall have the little room at 
 the end of the lobby to yourself, and there 
 you may earn all you can for your own 
 friends and for me." 
 
 *' Oh, thank you, master!" interjected 
 Jabez, his thoughts flying at once to the 
 old yard in Long Millgate. 
 
 ''And let Kezia wait upon herself if 
 there are no other idle folk about," con-
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 299 
 
 eluded Mr. Ashton, and the business was 
 settled. 
 
 This was about the time Jabez first began 
 to suspect Kit Townley of unfair dealing ; 
 and being once more in frequent contact 
 with him in the warehouse, he could not 
 shut his eyes or his ears. 
 
 Kit was then assistant putfcer-out in the 
 fringe and tassel department, counted out 
 the moulds, weighed out silk and worsted, 
 and called out the quantities each hand 
 took away, for a young booking-clerk to 
 enter. 
 
 Jabez was still in the brace and umbrella 
 room, but there was a wide door of com- 
 munication between the two, and he had 
 frequently to pass through the former with 
 finished goods for the ware and show-rooms 
 on the lower floors, and had to go cautious- 
 ly past the large scale, lest he should tilt 
 the beam with his ungainly burdens. Now 
 and then it occurred to him that the bulk 
 of silk or worsted in the scale was large in
 
 300 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 proportion to tlie weight, as called out by 
 Kit Townley, and once lie was moved to 
 say— 
 
 " Is that balance true ? or have you made 
 a mistake, Townley ?" 
 
 ''Mind your own business, Clegg, and 
 don't hinder mine. Naught ails the scales, 
 and I know better than make mistakes." 
 
 " Well, I only thought," persisted Jabez. 
 
 " I wish you'd think and keep those um- 
 brellas clear of the beam. You're always 
 thrutching past with great loads on your 
 shoulder when I am weighing out," inter- 
 rupted Kit testily, and Jabez held his 
 peace. 
 
 But if he went on his way quietly, he 
 was equally observant, and saw the same 
 thing happen again too often to be the 
 result of accident. Moreover, from the 
 window of the little room where he had a 
 broad desk for designing, he saw Kit meet 
 the same men and women stealthily after 
 hours, under the opposite gateway.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 301 
 
 " Kit," said lie one night, when they went 
 to their attic, " what do you meet Jackson, 
 Bradley, and Mary Taylor under the gate- 
 way for so often ?" 
 
 Kit, arrested with his warehouse jacket 
 half on and half off, asked sharply — 
 
 '^ Who says I meet them under the gate- 
 WSiJ ?" 
 
 '* I say so. I have seen you myself." 
 
 /' And what if you have ?" Kit retorted 
 snappishly. " There's no harm in saying 
 a civil word to poor folk that I know of." 
 
 " No harm, if that were all," returned 
 Jabez seriously, sitting down on the edge 
 of his truckle-bed to take off his blue worst- 
 ed stockings (knitted by himself), " but I 
 have seen them give you money." 
 
 '^ And what of that, you Blue-coat spy ! 
 If they're kind enough to call at old mother 
 Clowes's shop for toffy and humbugs for 
 me, and give me the change back, what's 
 that to you ?" he blustered, coming up to 
 Jabez with a defiant air.
 
 302 THE MANCHESTER 3IAN. 
 
 " I know you've a sweet tooth, Townley," 
 replied Jabez, unmoved, '* but I fear no- 
 thing half so good as Mrs. Clowes' toffy 
 takes you there so stealthily." 
 
 "Perhaps, Mr. Wiseacre, you know my 
 business better than myself?" returned 
 Kit, bold as brass, though he did begin to 
 feel qualmish. 
 
 " Perhaps I do, for I suspect you of 
 double-dealing, and I know what the end 
 of that must be ; and I warn you that I 
 cannot stand by and see our good master 
 robbed. I should be as bad as you if I 
 did." 
 
 Townley, enraged, struck at him, and 
 there was a scuffle in the dark, the bit of 
 candle in their horn lantern having burnt 
 out. 
 
 Kezia, who slept in the adjoining attic, 
 rated them soundly the next morning for 
 the disturbance they had made, threatening 
 to tell Mrs. Ashton. Had she done so, 
 inquiry would have followed.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 303 
 
 Jabez, troubled and perplexed, the very 
 next Sunday, consulted old Simon Clegg 
 as to tlie course lie should pursue, being 
 alike unwilling to tell tales on suspicion, 
 or to see his kind master wronged. 
 
 "Eh, lad," quoth Simon, rubbing down 
 his knees as he sat, " awVe manny a toime 
 bin i' just sich a ' strait atween two ' ; but 
 aw alias steered moi coorse by yon big 
 book, and tha' mun do t' seame. Thah 
 munnot think what thah loikes, or what 
 thah dunnot loike ; but thah mun do reet^ 
 chuse what comes or goes. It is na reet 
 to steal ; and to look on an' consent to a 
 thief is to be a thief. Thi first duty's to 
 thi God, an' thi next to thi payrents (if 
 tha' had anny), an' thi next to thi measter. 
 Thah's gi'en the chap fair warnin', an' if 
 he wunnot tak' it th' faut's noan thoine." 
 
 It so happened that the " putter-out " in 
 the brace and umbrella room was an old 
 man named Christopher, who had been in 
 the employment of the Ashtons (father
 
 304 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 and son) for thirty years. He professed 
 to be very pious and very conscientious, 
 but lamented that increasing years brought 
 Tvith it many ailments and infirmities, 
 such, for instance, as headaches, dizziness, 
 sudden weakness of the limbs, and attacks 
 of spasms, for the cure of which he kept a 
 bottle of peppermint in a corner cupboard. 
 It was into this room Augusta used 
 to come dancing, to coax old Christopher 
 out of bits of waste leather, and other 
 odds and ends, for which only a child 
 could find use. She was fond of cutting 
 and snipping, and, with an eye to his own 
 advantage, the cunning old fellow had 
 taught her how to use the stamps, so that she 
 might amuse herself by helping him. Then 
 he bespoke her compassion for his aches 
 and pains, and often, on holiday afternoons, 
 was troubled with one or other ailment, 
 which a pull at the bottle and a nap on the 
 bundles of leather, or gingham, alone 
 could relieve — '* if Miss Augusta would be
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 305 
 
 SO obleeging an' so koind as to stamp out 
 a few tabs or straps for him, or count out 
 umbrella ferules, or wheels, or handles," 
 for him. 
 
 And she, full of the superabundant 
 energy of youth, did it, nothing loth ; 
 though, as her own years increased, and 
 with them her ability to help, came a 
 sharp sense that old Christopher was a 
 hypocrite — knowledge she confided to Jabez 
 one day, when the sanctimonious putter- 
 out was resting his aching head and 
 uncertain legs, as usual ; and in order to 
 convince him she drew a bottle of gin, not 
 peppermint, from under a pile of white 
 kid. 
 
 Jabez, too, had been sorry for the old 
 fellow, and often added a good part of 
 Christopher s work to his own, to relieve 
 him. It was this fact which brought both 
 Christophers to book. The old cant was 
 so very grievously afflicted on the Monday 
 afternoon, that Jabez, seeing him quite 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 incapable of doing his work properly (he 
 was putting out umbrellas), undertook to 
 do it for him, though it was no business of 
 his — and so Mrs. Ashton would have told 
 him, had she been there. 
 
 He measured off what he knew to be 
 sufficient gingham for two dozen umbrellas 
 (a workwoman standing by in waiting), and 
 was about to cut off the length when the 
 woman arrested his hand. 
 
 " Yo're furgettin' th' weaste, mi lad; Hes- 
 ter Christopher alius alleaws fur weaste." 
 
 He looked at the woman, conscious there 
 could be no waste in cutting umbrella- 
 gores. She winked at him. 
 
 " Oh," said Jabez, conscious he was 
 learning something not down in his inden- 
 tures. " And how much does he allow ?" 
 
 " Abeawt a yard an' a hauve th' dozen," 
 she replied. 
 
 " And how do you contrive to waste it ?" 
 Jabez asked. 
 
 She winked again.
 
 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 307 
 
 " Eh, but yo're a young yorney. Yo'd 
 best ax Mester Cliristopliertliat." 
 
 " I think I'd best ask Mrs. Ashton that, 
 if she's in the warehouse," rejoined he, 
 sending his scissors through the gingham 
 at the proper place. 
 
 " Yo'd better not, or yo'n cut off yo'r 
 nose to spite yo'r own f eace ; " and the 
 woman nodded her head knowingly. 
 '' T'other 'prentice knows whatn weaste 
 means if thah dunnot ; an' manny's th' 
 breet shillin' it's put in his breeches-pocket, 
 my lad." 
 
 '* Oh, that's it, is it ?" said Jabez, whilst 
 he was counting over the already bundled- 
 up whalebone sticks, &c., to complete the 
 umbrella fittings. ''As our mistress would 
 say, * We may live and learn.' " 
 
 He found that whalebone, ferules, han- 
 dles, leathers, wheels, were all in excess. 
 An extra umbrella might be made from the 
 superabundant materials. Thereupon he 
 wakened Christopher to do his own work,
 
 308 THE MANCHESTER MAN. 
 
 simply remarking that lie tliouglit tlie bun- 
 dles of sticks, &c., had been miscounted. 
 
 " Oh no, Clegg, they're a' reet ; we re 
 obleeged to put in moore fur fear some on 
 'em shouldn split in makkin' oop," said old 
 Christopher cunningly, as if for his informa- 
 tion. 
 
 Jabez took no further notice then, but, 
 shouldering a great bundle of large um- 
 brellas, carried them through the fringe 
 room, and there noticed that, despite the 
 caution he had given, his fellow-apprentice 
 was dexterously manipulating silk and 
 scales to falsify the weights he called out. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUG WELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE.
 
 
 1-93