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Title: Old Sports and Sportsmen - or, the Willey Country
Author: Randall, John
Language: English
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Transcribed from the 1873 Bunny and Evans edition by David Price.
[Picture: Portrait of Lord Forester]
OLD SPORTS AND
SPORTSMEN
* * * * *
WITH SKETCHES OF SQUIRE FORESTER
AND HIS WHIPPER-IN
TOM MOODY
(“You all knew Tom Moody the Whipper-in well”).
* * * * *
BY JOHN RANDALL, F.G.S.
AUTHOR OF “THE SEVERN VALLEY,” ETC.
* * * * *
LONDON:
VIRTUE & CO., 26, IVY LANE
SALOP: BUNNY and EVANS; and RANDALL,
BOOKSELLER, MADELEY
1873
* * * * *
LONDON
PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO.,
CITY ROAD.
PREFACE.
IT is too much to expect that these pages will altogether escape
criticism; my object will have been gained, however, if I have succeeded
in collecting and placing intelligibly before the reader such noticeable
facts as are interesting matters of local history. Should it appear that
there has been imported into the work too many details touching the
earlier features of the country, the little that is generally known on
the subject, the close connection of cause and effect, and the influences
the old forests may have had in perpetuating a love of sport among some
members of a family whose name appears to have been derived from pursuits
connected therewith, must be my excuse. Dr. Arnold once remarked upon
the close connection existing between nature and mankind, and how each in
turn is affected by the other, whilst a living writer, and a deeper
thinker, has gone still further, in saying that “He is great who is what
he is from nature.” Of course it is not intended to claim greatness for
Squire Forester in the sense in which the word is ordinarily used, or
qualities, even, differing very much from those bearing the impress of
the common mould of humanity; but simply that he was what he was from
nature, from pre-disposition, and from living at the time he did. Also,
that he was in many respects a fair representative of the squirearchy of
the period, of a class of squires in whom we recognise features
discoverable in those in the enjoyment of the same natural vigour in our
own day, but who may have chosen different fields for its development.
It did not appear to come within the scope of the work to enter to the
same extent upon the doings of other sportsmen of Squire Forester’s time,
or to dilate upon those of gentlemen who subsequently distinguished
themselves. It would have required many additional pages, for instance,
to have done justice to the exploits of the first Lord Forester; or to
those of the present right honourable proprietor of Willey, who upon
retiring from the mastership of the Belvoir hounds was presented with a
massive piece of plate, representing an incident which happened in
connection with the Hunt. Of both Nimrod has written in the highest
terms. The names of several whose deeds the same felicitous writer has
described in connection with Shropshire will occur to the reader, as Mr.
Stubbs, of Beckbury; Mr. Childe, of Kinlet; Mr. Boycott, of Rudge—who
succeeded Sir Bellingham Graham on his giving up the Shifnal country;
Lord Wenlock; Squire Corbett, and the Squire of Halston; names which, as
Colonel Apperley has very justly said, will never be forgotten by the
sporting world. As the reader will perceive, I have simply acted upon
the principle laid down in the “Natural History of Selborne” by the Rev.
Gilbert White, who says, “If the stationary men would pay some attention
to the district in which they reside, and would publish their thoughts
respecting the objects that surround them, from such materials might be
drawn the most complete county history.” This advice influenced me in
undertaking the “Severn Valley,” and I have endeavoured to keep the same
in view now, by utilising the materials, and by using the best means at
command for bringing together facts such as may serve to illustrate them,
and which may not be unlooked for in a work of the kind.
Since the old Forest Periods, and since old Squire Forester’s day even,
the manners and the customs of the nation have changed; but the old love
of sport discoverable in our ancestors, and inherited more or less by
them from theirs, remains as a link connecting past generations with the
present.
It matters not, it appears to me, whether either the writer or the reader
indulges himself in such sports or not, he may be equally willing to
recall the “Olden Time,” with its instances of rough and ready pluck and
daring, and to listen to an old song, made by an aged pate,
“Of a fine old English gentleman who had a great estate.”
Shropshire and the surrounding counties during the past century had, as
we all know, many old English gentlemen with large estates, who kept up
their brave old houses at pretty liberal rates; but few probably
exercised the virtue of hospitality more, or came nearer to the true type
of the country gentleman of the period than the hearty old Willey Squire.
Differ as we may in our views of the chase, we must admit that such
amusements served to relieve the monotony of country life, and to make
time pass pleasantly, which but for horses and hounds, and the
opportunities they afforded of intercourse with neighbours, must have
hung heavily on a country gentleman’s hands a hundred years ago.
It is, moreover, it appears to me, to this love of sport, in one form or
another, that we of this generation are indebted for those grand old
woods which now delight the eye, and which it would have been a calamity
to have lost. The green fertility of fields answering with laughing
plenty to human industry is truly pleasing; but now that blue-bells, and
violets, foxgloves and primroses are being driven from the hedgerows, and
these themselves are fast disappearing before the advances of
agricultural science, it is gratifying to think that there are wastes and
wilds where weeds may still resort—where the perfumes of flowers, the
songs of birds, and the music of the breeze may be enjoyed. That the
love of nature which the out-door exercises of our ancestors did so much
to foster and perpetuate still survives is evident. How often, for
instance, among dwellers in towns does the weary spirit pant for the
fields, that it may wing its flight with the lark through the gushing
sunshine, and join in the melody that goes pealing through the fretted
cathedral of the woods, whilst caged by the demands of the hour, or kept
prisoner by the shop, the counter, or the machine? Spring, with its
regenerating influences, may wake the clods of the valley into life, may
wreathe the black twigs with their garb of green and white, and give to
the trees their livery; but men who should read the lessons they teach
know nothing of the rejoicings that gladden the glades and make merry the
woods. Nevertheless, proof positive that the love of nature—scourged,
crushed, and overlaid, it may be, with anxious cares for existence—never
dies out may be found in customs still lingering among us. In the
blackest iron districts, where the surface is one great ink-blotch, where
clouds of dust and columns of smoke obscure the day, where scoria heaps,
smouldering fires, and never-ceasing flames give a scorched aspect to the
scene, the quickening influences that renew creation are felt, teaching
men—ignorant as Wordsworth’s “Peter Bell”—to take part in the festival of
the year. When the sap has risen in the tree when the south wind stirs
the young leaves, and the mechanism of the woods is in motion, when the
blackbird has taken his place in the bush, and the thrush has perched
itself upon the spray, in the month of pelting showers and laughing
sunshine, when the first note of the cuckoo is heard from the ash in the
hedge-row or the wild cherry in the woods, an old custom still proclaims
a holiday in honour of his arrival. When the last lingering feature of
winter has vanished; when brooks, no longer hoarse, sink their voices to
a tinkling sweetness, flooding mead and dingle with their music; when the
merry, merry month, although no longer celebrated for its floral shows
and games as formerly, arrives, the May-bush may be seen over the door of
the village smithy and on the heads of horses on the road.
It would have been of little use passing acts of Parliament, like the one
which has just become law, for the preservation of members of the
feathered tribes, if their native woods had not been preserved to us by
sportsmen. To have lost our woods would have been to have lost the
spring and summer residences of migratory birds: to have lost the laugh
of the woodpecker, the songs of the blackbird and the thrush, the
woodlark’s thrilling melody, and the nightingale’s inimitable notes, to
say nothing of those faint soothing shadowings which steal upon one from
these leafy labyrinths of nature. As some one taking deeper views has
said:—
“There lie around
Thy daily walk great store of beauteous things,
Each in its separate place most fair, and all
Of many parts disposed most skilfully,
Making in combination wonderful
An individual of a higher kind;
And that again in order ranging well
With its own fellows, till thou rise at length
Up to the majesty of this grand world;—
Hard task, and seldom reached by mortal souls,
For frequent intermission and neglect
Of close communion with the humblest things;
But in rare moments, whether memory
Hold compact with invention, or the door
Of heaven hath been a little pushed aside,
Methinks I can remember, after hours
Of unpremeditated thought in woods.”
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
THE MARSH AND FOREST PERIODS.
The Hawk an Acquisition to Sportsmen—Hawk aeries—Hawks 8
according to Degrees—Brook and other kinds of
Hawking—Hawking and Hunting—A Shropshire Historian’s charge
against the Conqueror—Bishops and their Clergy as much
given to the Sport as Laymen—The Rector of Madeley—The
Merrie Days, &c.
CHAPTER II.
MORFE FOREST.
Morfe Forest one of the Five Royal Forests of 17
Shropshire—Its History and Associations—Early British,
Roman, Danish, and Norman Mementoes—Legends and Historical
Incidents—Forest Wastes—Old Names—Hermitage Hill—Stanmore
Grove—Essex Fall—Foresters—Old Forest Lodge, &c.
CHAPTER III.
ROYAL CHASE OF SHIRLOT.
Royal Chase of Shirlot—Extent—Places 31
disafforested—Hayes—Foresters—Hunting Lodge—Priors of
Wenlock—Curious Tenures—Encroachments upon Woods by
Iron-making Operations—Animals that have
disappeared—Reaction due to a love of Sport—What the
Country would have lost—“The Merrie Greenwood”—Old Forest
Trees, &c.
CHAPTER IV.
THE WREKIN FOREST AND THE FORESTERS.
The Wrekin Forest and the Foresters—Hermit of Mount St. 54
Gilbert—Poachers upon the King’s Preserves—Extent of the
Forest—Haye of Wellington—Robert
Forester—Perquisites—Hunting Matches—Singular Grant to John
Forester—Sir Walter Scott’s Anthony Forster a Member of the
Shropshire Forester Family—Anthony Forster Lord of the
Manor of Little Wenlock, and related to the Foresters of
Sutton and Bridgnorth—Anthony Foster altogether a different
Character to what Sir Walter Scott represents him
CHAPTER V.
WILLEY.
Willey, Close Neighbour to the Royal Chase of 70
Shirlot—Etymology of the Name—Domesday—The Willileys—The
Lacons—The Welds and the Foresters—The Old Hall—Cumnor Hall
as described by Sir Walter Scott—Everything Old and
Quaint—How Willey came into possession of the Foresters
CHAPTER VI.
THE WILLEY SQUIRE.
The Willey Squire—Instincts and Tendencies—Atmosphere of 77
the times favourable for their development—Thackeray’s
Opinion—Style of Hunting—Dawn of the Golden Age of the
Sport, &c.
CHAPTER VII.
THE WILLEY KENNELS.
The Willey Kennels—Colonel Apperley on Hunting a hundred 83
years ago—Character of the Hounds—Portraits of
Favourites—Original Letters
CHAPTER VIII.
THE WILLEY LONG RUNS.
The Willey Long Runs—Dibdin’s fifty miles no figure of 93
speech—From the Wrekin to the Clee—The Squire’s
Breakfast—Phœbe Higgs—Doggrel Ditties—Old Tinker—Moody’s
Horse falls dead—Run by Moonlight
CHAPTER IX.
BACHELOR’S HALL.
Its Quaint Interior—An Old Friend’s Memory—Crabbe’s Peter 102
at Ilford Hall—Singular Time-pieces—A Meet at Hangster’s
Gate—Jolly Doings—Dibdin at Dinner—Broseley Pipes—Parson
Stephens in his Shirt—The Parson’s Song
CHAPTER X.
THE WILLEY RECTOR AND OTHER OF THE SQUIRE’S FRIENDS.
The Squire’s Friends and the Rector more fully 113
drawn—Turner—Wilkinson—Harris—The Rev. Michael Pye
Stephens—His Relationship to the Squire—In the Commission
of the Peace—The Parson and the Poacher—A Fox-hunting
Christening
CHAPTER XI.
THE WILLEY WHIPPER-IN.
The Willey Whipper-in—Tom’s Start in Life—His Pluck and 124
Perseverance—Up hill and down dale—Adventures with the
Buff-coloured Chaise—His own Wild Favourite—His Drinking
Horn—Who-who-hoop—Good Temper—Never Married—Hangster’s
Gate—Old Coaches—Tom gone to Earth—Three View Halloos at
the Grave—Old Boots
CHAPTER XII.
SUCCESS OF THE SONG.
Dibdin’s Song—Dibdin and the Squire good fellows well 140
met—Moody a character after Dibdin’s own heart—The Squire’s
Gift—Incledon—The Shropshire Fox-hunters on the Stage at
Drury Lane
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WILLEY SQUIRE MEMBER FOR WENLOCK.
The Willey Squire recognises the duty of his position, and 147
becomes Member for Wenlock—Addison’s View of Whig Jockeys
and Tory Fox-hunters—State of Parties—Pitt in
Power—“Fiddle-Faddle”—Local Improvements—The Squire Mayor
of Wenlock—The Mace now carried before the Chief Magistrate
CHAPTER XV.
THE SQUIRE AND HIS VOLUNTEERS.
The Squire and his Volunteers—Community of Feeling—Threats 154
of Invasion—“We’ll follow the Squire to Hell, if
necessary”—The Squire’s Speech—His Birthday—His Letter to
the _Shrewsbury Chronicle_—Second Corps—Boney and
Beacons—The Squire in a Rage—The Duke of York and Prince of
Orange come down
CHAPTER XV.
THE WILLEY SQUIRE AMONG HIS NEIGHBOURS.
The Squire among his Neighbours—Sir Roger de 173
Coverley—Anecdotes—Gentlemen nearest the fire in the Lower
Regions—Food Riots—The Squire quells the Mob—His Virtues
and his Failings—Influences of the Times—His career draws
to a close—His wish for Old Friends and Servants to follow
him to the Grave—To be buried in the dusk of the
evening—His Favourite Horse to be shot—His estates left to
his cousin, Cecil Weld, the First Lord Forester—New Hunting
Song
Appendix 189
Index 201
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
LORD FORESTER _Frontispiece_
THE VALLEY OF THE SEVERN 1
TRAINED FALCON 8
HOODED FALCON 9
MORFE FOREST 17
STAG 17
BOAR HUNT IN MORFE FOREST 21
FALLOW DEER 31
DEER LEAP 36
CHAPTER HOUSE OF WENLOCK PRIORY 38
WATERFALL 44
FOREST SCENERY 46
LADY OAK AT CRESSAGE 50
THE BADGER 53
GROUP OF DEER 54
NEEDLE’S EYE 56
DEER AND YOUNG 59
ATCHAM CHURCH 62
RICHARD FORESTER’S OLD MANSION 65
WILLEY OLD HALL 70
THE OLD SQUIRE 77
FAVOURITE DOGS 83
PORTRAIT OF A FOX-HOUND 93
BUILDWAS ABBEY 100
MOODY’S HORN, TRENCHER, CAP, SADDLE, &c. 122
GONE TO EARTH 122
A MEET AT HANGSTER’S GATE 140
THE FIRST IRON BRIDGE 147
VIEW OF BRIDGNORTH 154
WILLEY CHURCH 173
INTRODUCTION.
[Picture: Valley of the Severn, near Willey]
A SIMPLE reading of the history of the earth is sufficient to show that
hunting is as old as the hills—not figuratively, but literally; and that
the hunter and the hunted, one furnished with weapons of attack, and the
other with means of defence, have existed from the earliest periods of
creation to the present. That is, the strong have mastered the weak, and
in some instances have fallen side by side, as we see by their remains.
In the economy of Nature, the process of decay appears to have been the
exception, rather than the rule; with beak or tooth, or deadly claw, the
strong having struck down the less defended in a never-ending arena.
What a hunting field, in one sense, the Old World must have been, when
creatures of strange and undefined natures infested the uncertain limits
of the elements, and what encounters must have taken place in the ooze
and mud periods, when monsters, enormous in stature and stretch of wing,
were the implacable hunters of the air, the water, and the slime! Nor
can the inhabitants of the earth, the water, and the air, taking the term
in its broad rather than in its technical sense, be said to be less
hunters now, or less equipped with deadly weapons. Some have
supernumerary teeth to supply the loss of such as might get broken in the
fray. One strikes down its prey at a blow, another impales its victims
on thorns, and a third slays by poison. Some hunt in company, from what
would seem to be a very love of sport—as crows and smaller birds give
chase to the owl, apparently rejoicing in his embarrassment, at break of
day.
We need but refer to those remotely removed stages of human life
illustrated by drift beds, bone caves, and shell heaps—to those primitive
weapons which distinguished the lowest level of the Stone Age, weapons
which every year are being brought to light by thousands—to give the
_genus homo_ a place among the hunters; indeed one of the strongest
incentives which helped on Pre-historic Man from one level to the other
through the long night of the darkest ages, appears to have been that
which such a pursuit supplied. To obtain the skins of animals wilder
than himself he entered upon a scramble with the wolf, the bear, and the
hyena. Driven by instinct or necessity to supply wants the whole
creation felt, his utmost ingenuity was put forth in the chase; and in
process of time we find him having recourse to the inventive arts to
enable him to carry out his designs. On the borders of lakes or on river
banks, in caverns deep-seated amid primeval forest solitudes, he
fashioned harpoons and arrow-heads of shell, horn, or bone, with which to
repulse the attack of prowlers around his retreat and to arrest the
flight of the swiftest beast he required for food; and when he emerged
from the dark night which Science has as yet but partially penetrated,
when he had succeeded in pressing the horse and the dog into his service,
and when the cultivation of the soil even had removed him above the
claims of hunger, he appears equally to have indulged the
passion—probably for the gratification it gave and the advantages it
brought in promoting that tide of full health from which is derived the
pleasing consciousness of existence.
Tradition, no less than archæology and the physical history of the
country itself, lead us to suppose that when those oscillations of level
ceased which led to the present distribution of land and water, one-third
of the face of the country was covered with wood and another with
uncultivated moor, and that marsh lands were extensive. Remains dug up
in the valley of the Severn, and others along the wide stretch of country
drained by its tributaries, together with those disinterred from the bog
and the marsh, show that animals, like plants, once indigenous, have at
comparatively recent periods become as extinct as Dodos in the Mauritius.
Old British names in various parts of the country, particularly along the
valley of the Severn, exist to show that the beaver once built its house
by the stream, that the badger burrowed in its banks, and that the eagle
and the falcon reared their young on the rocks above. At the same time,
evidence exists to show that the bear and the boar ranged the forests as
late as the conquest of England by the Normans, whilst the red deer, the
egret and the crane, the bittern and the bustard, remained to a period
almost within living memory.
River loams, river gravels, lake beds, and cave breccias, disclose hooks
and spears, and sometimes fragments of nets, which show that hunting and
fishing were practised by the primitive dwellers along river plains and
valleys.
The situations of abbeys, priories, and other monastic piles, the ruins
of which here and there are seen along the banks of rivers, and the
records the heads of these houses have left behind them, lead us to
suppose that those who reared and those who occupied them were alive to
the advantages the neighbourhood of good fisheries supplied. Some of the
_vivaries_ or fish-pools, and meres even, which once afforded abundant
supplies, no longer exist, their sites being now green fields; but
indications of their former presence are distinct, whilst the positions
of weirs on the Severn, the rights of which their owners zealously
guarded, may still be pointed out. Sometimes they were subjects of
litigation, as with the canons of Lilleshall, who claimed rights of
fishing in the Severn at Bridgnorth, and who obtained a bull from Pope
Honorius confirming them in their rights. In 1160 the Abbot of Salop,
with the consent of his chapter, is found granting to Philip Fitz-Stephen
and his heirs the fishery of Sutton (piscarium de Sutana), and lands near
the said fishery. These monks also had fisheries at Binnal, a few miles
from Willey; and it is well known that they introduced into our rivers
several varieties of fish not previously common thereto, but which now
afford sport to the angler.
Fishing, it is true, may have been followed more as a remunerative
exercise by some members of these religious houses, still it did not fail
to commend itself as an attractive art and a harmless recreation
congenial to a spirit of contemplation and reflection to many
distinguished ecclesiastics. That the Severn of that day abounded in
fish much more than at present is shown by Bishop Lyttleton, who takes
some pains to describe it at Arley, and who explains the construction of
the coracle and its uses in fishing, the only difference between it both
then and now, and that of early British times, being that the latter was
covered with a horse’s hide.
A jury, empannelled for the purpose of estimating the value of Arley
manor upon the death of one of its proprietors, gave the yearly rental of
its fishery at 6_s._ 8_d._,—a large sum in comparison with the value of
sixty acres of land, stated to have been 10_s._, or with the rent of a
ferry, which was put down at sixpence. There must have been fine fishing
then. Trout were plentiful, so were salmon; there were no locks or
artificial weirs to obstruct the attempts of fish—still true to the
instinct of their ancestors—to beat the tide in an upward summer
excursion in the direction of its source. The document states that the
part of the river so valued “abounded in fish.”
* * * * *
NOTE.—The Bishop of Worcester, by his regulations for the Priory of
Little Malvern, in 1323, enjoins the prior not to fish in the stew set
apart from ancient times _for the recreation of the sick_, unless
manifest utility, to be approved by the Chapter, should sanction it; in
which case he was, at a fit opportunity, to replace the fish which he
caught.
We fancy it is not difficult to recognise a growing feeling against
that separation of religion, recreation, and health which unfortunately
now exists, and in favour of re-uniting the three; and we are persuaded
that the sooner this takes place the better for the nation.
CHAPTER I.
THE MARSH AND FOREST PERIODS.
Early Features of the Country—The Hawk an acquisition to Sportsmen—Hawk
aeries—Hawks according to Degrees—Brook and other kinds of
Hawking—Hawking and Hunting—A Shropshire Historian’s Charge against the
Conqueror—Bishops and their Clergy as much given to the Sport as
Laymen—The Rector of Madeley—The Merrie Days, &c.
[Picture: Trained Falcon] DIVERSIFIED by wood and moor, by lake and sedgy
pool, dense flocks of wild fowl of various kinds at one time afforded a
profusion of winged game; and the keen eye and sharp talons of the hawk
no doubt pointed it out as a desirable acquisition to the sportsman long
ere he succeeded in pressing it into his service; indeed it must have
been a marked advance in the art when he first availed himself of its
instinct. Old records supply materials for judging of the estimation in
which this bird was held by our ancestors, it being not uncommon to find
persons holding tenements or paying fines in lieu of service to the lord
of the fee by rendering a _sore_ sparrow-hawk—a hawk in its first year’s
plumage. Stringent restrictions upon the liberty the old Roman masters
of the country allowed with respect to wild fowl were imposed; the act of
stealing a hawk, and that of taking her eggs, being punishable by
imprisonment for a year and a day. The highborn, with birds bedecked
with hoods of silk, collars of gold, and bells of even weight, but of
different sound, appeared according to their rank—a ger-falcon for a
king, a falcon gentle for a prince, a falcon of the rock for a duke, a
janet for a knight, a merlin for a lady, and a lamere for a squire. From
close-pent manor and high-walled castle, to outspread plain and expansive
lake or river bank, the gentry of the day sought perditch and plover,
heron and wild fowl, many of which the fowling-piece has since driven
from their haunts, and some—as the bustard and the bittern, the egret and
the crane—into extinction.
Mention is often made of hawk aeries, as at Little Wenlock, and in
connection with districts within the jurisdiction of Shropshire forests,
which seem to have been jealously guarded. The use of the birds, too,
appears to have been very much restricted down to the time that the
forest-charter, enabling all freemen to ply their hawks, was wrung from
King John, when a sport which before had been the pride of the rich
became the privilege of the poor. It was at one time so far a national
pastime that an old writer asserts that “every degree had its peculiar
hawk, from the emperor down to the holy-water clerk.” {10} The sport
seems to have divided itself into field-hawking, pond-hawking,
brook-and-river hawking; into hawking on horseback and hawking on foot.
In foot hawking the sportsman carried a pole, with which to leap the
brook, into which he sometimes fell, as Henry VIII. did upon his head in
the mud, in which he would have been stifled, it is said, had not John
Moody rescued him; whether this Moody was an ancestor of the famous
Whipper-in or not we cannot say.
Evidence is not altogether wanting to show that during the earlier
history of the Marsh period, the gigantic elk (_Cervus giganteus_), with
his wide-spreading antlers, visited, if he did not inhabit, the flatter
portions of the Willey country; and it is probable that the wild ox
equally afforded a mark for the arrow of the ancient inhabitants of the
district in those remote times, which investigators have distinguished as
the Pile-building, the Stone, and the Bronze periods, when society was in
what has been fittingly called the hunter-state. At any rate, we know
that at later periods the red deer, the goat, and the boar, together with
other “beasts,” were hunted, and that both banks of the Severn resounded
with the deep notes of “veteran hounds.” Of the two pursuits, Prior in
his day remarks, “Hawking comes near to hunting, the one in the ayre as
the other on the earth, a sport as much affected as the other, by some
preferred.” That the chase was the choice pastime of monarchs and nobles
before the Conquest, and the favourite sport of “great and worthy
personages” after, we learn from old authors, who, like William Tivici,
huntsman to Edward I., have written elaborate descriptive works,
supplying details of the modes pursued, and of the kinds of dog which
were used.
Our Saxon ancestors no doubt brought with them from the great forests of
Germany not only their institutions but the love of sport of their
forefathers, pure and simple. With them the forests appear to have been
open to the people; and, although the Danes imposed restrictions, King
Canute, by his general code of laws, confirmed to his subjects full right
to hunt on their own lands, providing they abstained from the forests,
the pleasures of which he appears to have had no inclination generally to
share with his subjects. He established in each county four chief
foresters, who were gentlemen or thanes, and these had under them four
yeomen, who had care of the vert and venison; whilst under these again
were two officers of still lower rank, who had charge of the vert and
venison in the night, and who did the more servile work. King William
curtailed many of the old forest privileges, and limited the sports of
the people by prohibiting the boar and the hare, which Canute had allowed
to be taken; and so jealous was he of the privileges of the chase that he
is said to have ordained the loss of the eyes as the penalty for killing
a stag. His Norman predilections were such that an old Shropshire
historian, Ordericus Vitalis (born at Atcham), who was at one time
chaplain to the Conqueror, charges him with depopulating whole parishes
that he might satisfy his ardour for hunting. Prince Rufus, who
inherited a love of the chase from his father, is made by a modern author
to reply to a warning given him by saying:—
“I love the chase, ’tis mimic war,
And the hollow bay of hound;
The heart of the poorest Norman
Beats quicker at the sound.”
King John stretched the stringent forest laws of the period to the
utmost, till the love of liberty and of sport together, still latent
among the people, compelled him to submit to an express declaration of
their respective rights. By this declaration all lands afforested by
Henry I. or by Richard were to be disafforested, excepting demesne woods
of the crown; and a fine or imprisonment for a year and a day, in case of
default, was to be substituted for loss of life and members.
To prevent disputes with regard to the king’s forests, it was also agreed
that their limits should be defined by perambulations; but as a check
upon the boldness of offenders in forests and chaces, and warrens, and
upon the disposition of juries to find against those who were appointed
to keep such places, it was deemed necessary on the other hand to give
protection to the keepers.
Large sums were lavished by kings and nobles on the kennels and
appliances necessary for their diversions. Nor were these costly
establishments confined to the laity. Bishops, abbots, and high
dignitaries of the Church, could match their hounds and hawks against
those of the nobles, and they equally prided themselves upon their skill
in woodcraft.
That the clergy were as much in favour of these amusements as the laity,
appears from an old Shropshire author, Piers Plowman (Langland), who
satirically gave it as his opinion that they thought more of sport than
of their flocks, excepting at shearing time; and likewise from Chaucer,
who says, “in hunting and riding they are more skilled than in divinity.”
That Richard de Castillon, an early rector of Madeley, was a sportsman
appears from the fact that when Henry III. was in Shrewsbury in
September, 1267, concluding a treaty with Llewellyn, and settling sundry
little differences with the monks and burgesses there, he granted him
license to hunt “in the royal forest of Madeley,” then a portion of that
of the Wrekin. In 1283 also, King Edward permitted the Prior of Wenlock
to have a park at Madeley, to fence out a portion of the forest, and to
form a haia there for his deer. It has been said that Walter, Bishop of
Rochester, was so fond of sport, that at the age of fourscore he made
hunting his sole employment. The Archdeacon of Richmond, at his
initiation to the Priory of Bridlington, is reported to have been
attended by ninety-seven horses, twenty-one dogs, and three hawks.
Walter de Suffield, Bishop of Norwich, bequeathed by will his pack of
hounds to the king; but the Abbot of Tavistock, who had also a pack, was
commanded by his bishop about the same time to break it up. A famous
hunter was the Abbot of Leicester, whose skill in the sport of hare
hunting was so great, that we are told the king himself, his son Edward,
and certain noblemen, paid him an annual pension that they might hunt
with him. Bishop Latimer said: “In my time my poor father was as
diligent to teach me to shoot as to learn me any other thing, and so I
think other men did their children. He taught me how to draw, how to lay
my body in my bow, and not draw with strength of arms as other nations
do;” and the good bishop exclaims with the enthusiasm of a patriot, “It
is a gift of God that He hath given us to excel all other nations withal;
it hath been God’s instrument whereby He hath given us many victories
over our enemies.”
Such were the “merrie days,” when the kennels of the country gentry
contained all sorts of dogs, and their halls all sorts of skins, when the
otter and the badger were not uncommon along the banks of Shropshire
streams, and ere the fox had taken first rank on the sportsman’s list.
An old “Treatise on the Craft of Hunting” first gives the hare, the
herte, the wulf, and the wild boar. The author then goes on to say—
“But there ben other beastes five of the chase;
The buck the first, the second is the doe,
The fox the third, which hath ever hard grace,
The fourth the martyn, and the last the roe.”
CHAPTER II.
MORFE FOREST.
Morfe one of the Five Royal Forests of Shropshire—Its History and
Associations—Early British, Roman, Danish, and Norman Mementoes—Legends
and Historical Incidents—Forest Wastes—Old Names—Hermitage Hill—Stanmore
Grove—Essex Fall—Foresters—Old Forest Lodge, &c.
THE hunting ground of the Willey country embraced the sites of five royal
forests, the growth of earlier ages than those planted by the Normans,
alluded to by Ordericus Vitalis. In some instances they were the growth
of wide areas offering favourable conditions of soil for the production
of timber, as in the case of that of Morfe. In others they were the
result probably of the existence of hilly districts so sterile as to
offer few inducements to cultivate them, as in the case of Shirlot, the
Stiperstones, the Wrekin, and of the Clee Hills. Some of these have
histories running side by side with that of the nation, and associations
closely linked with the names of heroic men and famous sportsmen. Morfe
Forest, which was separated from that of Shirlot by the Severn, along
which it ran a considerable distance in the direction of its tributary
the Worf, is rich in traditions of the rarest kind, the Briton, the
Roman, Saxon, Dane, and Norman, having in succession left mementoes of
their presence. Here, as Mr. Eyton in his invaluable work on the
“Antiquities of Shropshire” says,—“Patriotism, civilisation, military
science, patient industry, adventurous barbarism, superstition, chivalry,
and religion have each played a part.”
[Picture: Morfe Forest]
[Picture: Stag]
The ancient British tumuli examined and described more than one hundred
and thirty years ago by the Rev. Mr. Stackhouse have been levelled by the
plough, but “the Walls” at Chesterton, and the evidence the name of
Stratford supplies as to Roman occupation, to which Mr. Eyton refers, as
well as the rude fortifications of Burf Castle, constructed by the Danes
when they came to recruit after being out-manœuvred by Alfred on the
Thames, remain. At Quatford, a mile and a half west, on three sides of a
rock overhanging the Severn, near to Danesford, are trenches cut out of
the solid sandstone which, whether Danish or Norman, or in part both,
shewed by the vast number of wild boar and red deer remains disclosed a
few years ago the success with which the chase had here at one time been
pursued.
Within the forest were four manors, the continuous estate in Saxon times
of Algar, Earl of Mercia, which after the Conquest were granted in their
integrity to the first Norman Earl of Shrewsbury, and which in 1086 were
held wholly in demesne by his son Hugh. The predilections of the first
Norman Earl of Shrewsbury for this vast forest, lying between those of
Kinver, Wyre, and Shirlot,—the whole of which wide wooded district seems
to have been comprehended under the old British name of _Coed_—are shown
by the fact that he built his famous’ castle on the Severn close by, and
founded there his collegiate church, the stones of which remain to attest
its erection by a Norman founder. The legend relating to the erection of
the church seems so well to bear out the supposition that Morfe was the
favourite hunting ground of the earl that, although frequently quoted, it
may not be out of place to give it. In substance it is this:—
In 1082, Sir Roger married for his second wife a daughter of Sir Ebrard
de Pusey, one of the chief nobles of France. On coming over to England
to join her husband a storm arose which threatened the destruction of the
vessel when, wearied with much watching, a priest who accompanied her
fell asleep and had a vision, in which it was said:—“If thy lady would
wish to save herself and her attendants from the present danger of the
sea, let her make a vow to God and faithfully promise to build a church
in honour of the blessed Mary Magdalene, on the spot where she may first
happen to meet her husband in England, especially where groweth a hollow
oak, and where the wild swine have shelter.” The legend adds that upon
awaking the priest informed his lady, who took the prescribed vow; that
the storm ceased, that the ship arrived safely in port, that the lady met
the earl hunting the boar where an old hollow oak stood, and that at her
request, and in fulfilment of her vow, Sir Roger built and endowed the
church at Quatford, which a few years ago only was taken down and
rebuilt.
[Picture: Boar Hunt in Morfe Forest]
On the high ground a little above the church there are still several
trees whose gnarled and knotted trunks have borne the brunt of many
centuries, two of which are supposed to have sprung from the remains of
the one mentioned in the legend.
Not only legends, but traditions, and some historical incidents, as those
brought to light by the Forest Rolls, afford now and then an insight of
the sporting kind of life led within the boundary and jurisdiction of the
forest and upon its outskirts. The bow being not only the chief weapon
of sport but of war, those with a greater revenue from land than one
hundred pence were at one time not only permitted but compelled to have
in their possession bows and arrows, but, to prevent those living within
the precincts of the forest killing the king’s deer, the arrows were to
be rounded. These were sometimes sharpened, and disputes arose between
their owners, the dwellers in the villages, and the overseers of the
forest, the more fruitful source of grievance being with the commoners,
who, claiming pasturage for their cows and their horses, often became
poachers. On one occasion a kid being wounded by an arrow at Atterley,
on the Willey side of the Severn, and the culprit not being forthcoming,
a whole district is in _misericordiâ_, under the ban of the fierce Forest
Laws of the period. On another occasion a stag enters the postern gate
of the Castle of Bridgnorth, and the vision of venison within reach
proving too strong for the Castellan, he is entrapped, and litigation
ensues. Sometimes the stout foresters and sturdy guardians of the
castle, and burgesses of the town, indulge in friendly trials of skill at
quarter-staff or archery, or in a wrestling match for a cross-bow, a ram,
or a “red gold ring.” In Ritson’s “Robin Hood” we read:—
“By a bridge was a wrastling,
And there taryed was he:
And there was all the best yemen
Of all the west countrey.
A full fayre game there was set up,
A white bull up y-pight,
A great courser with saddle and brydle
With gold burnished full bryght;
A payre of gloves, a red golde ringe,
A pipe of wyne good fay:
What man bereth him best I wis,
The prize shall bear away.”
In 1292, a wrestling match at a festive gathering on Bernard’s Hill takes
place, when from ill blood arising from an old feud a dispute ensues, and
a forester named Simon de Leyre quarrels with Robert de Turbevill, a
canon of St. Mary’s, Bridgnorth, over a greyhound, which the latter,
contrary to the regulations of the courts, had brought within the forest;
and a jury of foresters, verderers, and regarders, in pursuance of the
king’s writ, is empowered to try the case. The evidence adduced shows
that the foresters were to blame, the verdict come to being that the men
of Brug, although at the wrestling match with bows and arrows, were in no
way chargeable with the assault upon the forester. “They had been
indicted for trespass,” the jurors said, “not under any inquest taken on
the matter, but by one Corbett’s suggestion to the Justice of the Forest;
they had been attacked and imprisoned under the warrant of the said
Justice, Corbett’s grudge being that two men of Brug had once promised
him a cask of wine, a present in which the corporate body refused to
join.” Corbett was pronounced by the jurors “a malevolent and a procurer
of evil.”
To correct evils like these the “ordinatio” of Edward I. was introduced,
containing many beneficial regulations, and stating that proceedings had
been taken in the forest by one or two foresters or verderers to extort
money, also providing that all trespassers in the forest of green hue and
of hunting shall be presented by the foresters at the next Swainmote
before foresters, verderers, and other officers. In the same year the
king confirmed the great charter of liberties of the forest.
Various official reports of this Chace, drawn up from time to time, show
how the great forest of Morfe gradually diminished, as the vills of
Worfield and Claverley, and other settlements, extended within its
limits, causing waste and destruction at various times of timber. During
the Barons’ War the bosc of Claverley was further damaged, it was said,
“by many goats frequenting the cover;” it suffered also from waste by the
Earl of Chester, who sold from it 1,700 oak trees. Other wastes are
recorded, as those caused by cutting down timber “for the Castle of
Bridgnorth,” and “for enclosing the vill before it was fortified by a
wall.” The report further states that “there were few beasts,” because
“they were destroyed in the time of war, and in the time when the liberty
of the forest was conceded.” By degrees, from one cause or another, and
by one means or another, this, the “favourite chace of English kings and
Norman earls,” which, so late as 1808, consisted of upwards of 3,820
acres, disappeared, leaving about the names of places it once enclosed an
air of quaint antiquity, the very mention of some of which may be
interesting. Among them are Bowman’s Hill, Bowman’s Pit, and Warrener’s
Dead Fall—names carrying back the mind to times when bowmen were the
reliance of English leaders in battles fought on the borders, and before
strongholds like the Castle of Bridgnorth. Gatacre, and Gatacre Hall,
suggest a passing notice of a family which witnessed many such
encounters, and which remained associated with a manor here from the
reign of Edward the Confessor to the time when Earl Derby sought shelter
as a fugitive after the Battle of Worcester. As Camden describes it, the
old hall must have been a fitting residence truly for a steward of the
forest. It had, in the middle of each side and centre, immense oak
trees, hewn nearly square, set with their heads on large stones, and
their roots uppermost, from which a few rafters formed a complete arched
roof.
The Hermitage, with its caves hewn out of the solid sand rock, by the
road which led through the forest in the direction of Worfield, meets us
with the tradition that here the brother of King Athelstan came seeking
retirement from the world, and ended his days within sight of the queenly
Severn. Besides tradition, however, evidence exists to shew that this
eremetical cave, of Saxon origin, under the patronage of the crown, was
occupied by successive hermits, each being ushered to the cell with royal
seal and patent, in the same way as a dean, constable, or sheriff was
introduced to his office; as in the case of John Oxindon (Edward III.,
1328), Andrew Corbrigg (Edward III., 1333), Edmund de la Marc (Edward
III., 1335), and Roger Boughton (Edward III., 1346). From the frequency
of the presentations, it would appear either that these hermits must have
been near the termination of their pilgrimage when they were inducted, or
that confinement to a damp cell did not agree with them: indeed, no one
looking at the place itself would consider it was a desirable one to live
in.
Other names not less significant of the former features of the country
occur, as Stoneydale, Copy Foot, Sandy Burrow, Quatford Wyches, and Hill
House Flat,—where the remains of an old forest oak may still be seen. In
addition to these we find Briery Hurst, Rushmoor Hill, Spring Valley,
Stanmore Grove, and Essex Fall, the latter being at the head of a ravine,
half concealed by wood, where tradition alleges the Earl of Essex,
grandson of the Earl who founded St. James’s, a refuge, a little lower
down, for sick and suffering pilgrims, which had unusual forest
privileges allowed by royal owners, was killed whilst hunting. Here too,
higher up on the hill, may still be seen the remains of the old Forest
Lodge, which, with its picturesque scenes, must have been associated with
the visits of many a noble steward and forest-ranger. Many a hunter of
the stag and wild boar has on the walls of this old Lodge hung up his
horn and spear, as he sought rest and refreshment for the night.
The names of some of the stewards and other officers of the forest are
preserved, together with their tenures and other privileges. By an
inquisition in the reign of Henry III., it was found that Robert, son of
Nicholas, and others were seized of “Morffe Bosc.” {28} In the 13 Hen.
IV., “Worfield had common of pasture in Morffe.” Besides many tenures
(enumerated in Duke’s “Antiquities of Shropshire,” p. 52), dependent upon
the forest, the kings (when these tenures were grown useless and
obsolete) appointed stewards and rangers to take care of the woods and
the deer; in the 19 Rich. II., Richard Chelmswick was forester for life:
in the 1 Henry IV., John Bruyn was forester; and in the 26th Henry IV.,
the stewardships of the forest of Morfe and Shirlot were granted to John
Hampton, Esq., and his heirs. Again, we find 9 Henry VII., rot. 28,
George Earl of Shrewsbury, was steward and ranger for life, with a fee of
4_d._ per day. Orig. 6 Edward VI., William Gatacre de Gatacre, in com.
Salop, had a lease of twenty-one years of the stewardship; and in the
20th Elizabeth, George Bromley had a lease of twenty-one years of the
stewardship, at a rent of 6_s._ 8_d._, et de incremento, 12_d._; and 36
Elizabeth, George Powle, Gent., was steward, with a fee of 4_d._ per day.
One of the descendants of George Earl of Shrewsbury sold at no very
distant period the old Lodge and some land to the Stokes family of
Roughton, and the property is still in their possession. The remains of
the old Lodge were then more extensive, but they were afterwards pulled
down, with the exception of that portion which still goes by the name.
As we have said, these places have about them interesting forest
associations, reminding us that early sportsmen here met to enjoy the
pleasures of the chase, with a success sometimes told by red-deer bones
and wild-boar tusks, dug from some old ditch or trench. Where the
plough-share now cleaves the sandy soil, the wild-boar roamed at will;
where fat kine feed in pastures green, stout oaks grew, and red-deer
leaped; where the Albrighton red-coats with yelping hounds now meet, the
ringing laugh of lords and ladies, of bishops and their clergy, hunting
higher game, was heard. Then, as good old Scott has said,—
“In the lofty arched hall
Was spread the gorgeous festival,
Then rose the riot and the din
Above, beneath, without, within,
For from its lofty balcony,
Rang trumpet, shawm and psaltery.
Their clanging bowls old warriors quaff’d,
Loudly they spoke and loudly laugh’d,
Whisper’d young knights in tones more mild,
To ladies fair, and ladies smiled.
The hooded hawks, high perch’d on beam,
The clamour join’d with whistling scream,
And flapped their wings and shook their bells,
In concert with the stag-hounds’ yells.”
CHAPTER III.
ROYAL CHASE OF SHIRLOT.
Afforestation of Shirlot—Extent—Places
Disafforested—Hayes—Foresters—Hunting Lodges—Sporting Priors—Old
Tenures—Encroachments upon Woods by Iron-making Operations—Animals that
have Disappeared—Reaction due to a Love of Sport—What the Country would
have lost—“The Merrie Greenwood”—Remarkable old Forest Trees, &c.
“Where with puffed cheek the belted hunter blows
His wreathed bugle horn.”
MR. EYTON thinks the afforestation of Shirlot was probably suggested by
its proximity to the Morville and Chetton manors, where Saxon kings and
Mercian earls had their respective demesnes, and that Henry I. and his
successors, in visiting the Castle of Bridgnorth, or as guests of the
Prior of Wenlock, had obvious reasons for perpetuating there the
exclusive rights of a Royal chace. Although Shirlot Forest was separated
from that of Morfe by the Severn, its jurisdiction extended across the
river to Apley, and embraced places lying along the right bank of the
river, in the direction of Cressage. Bridgnorth with its surroundings
was not taken out of its jurisdiction or thrown open by perambulation
till 1301, when it was disafforested, together with Eardington, Much
Wenlock, Broseley, and other places. The extent and ancient jurisdiction
of this forest may be estimated by the number of places taken from it at
this date, as Benthall, Buildwas, Barrow, Belswardine, Shineton,
Posenall, Walton, Willey, Atterley, the Dean, the Bold, Linley, Caughley,
Little Caughley, Rowton, Sweyney, Appeleye (the only vill eastward of
Severn), Colemore, Stanley, Rucroft, Medewegrene, Cantreyne, Simon de
Severn’s messuage (now Severn Hall), Northleye, Astley Abbot’s Manor, La
Dunfowe (Dunwall), La Rode (now Rhodes), Kinsedeleye (now Kinslow),
Tasley, Crofte, Haleygton (Horton, near Morville), Aldenham, the Bosc of
the Earl of Arundel within the bounds of the forest of Schyrlet, which is
called Wiles Wode (_i.e._ Earl’s Wood), Aston Aer, Momerfield (Morville),
Lee, Underdone, Walton (all three near Morville), Upton (now Upton
Cresset), Meadowley, Stapeley, Criddon, Midteleton (Middleton Scriven),
the Bosc of the Prior of Wenlock, called Lythewode, half the vill of
Neuton (Newton near Bold), Faintree, Chetton, Walkes Batch (Wallsbatch,
near Chetton), Hollycott, Hapesford (now Harpswood), Westwood (near
Harpswood), Oldbury, a messuage at the More (the Moor Ridding), a
messuage at La Cnolle (now Knowle Sands), and the Bosc which is called
Ongeres.
[Picture: Fallow deer]
The ancient extent of the forest must have been about twelve miles by
five. The names of the places mentioned to which the limits of the chace
are traced are so different in many instances from the present that it
may be of interest to give a few of them. From Yapenacres Merwey the
boundary was to go up to the Raveneshok (Ravens’ Oak), thence straight to
the Brenallegrene, near the Coleherth (Coal Hearth) going up by the
Fendeshok (Friends’ Oak) to the Dernewhite-ford. Thence upwards to the
Nethercoumbesheved; and so straight through the Middlecoumbesheved, and
then down to Caldewall. Then down through the Lynde to the Mer Elyn.
Thence down to Dubledaneslegh, and then up by a certain watercourse to
the Pirle; and so up to Wichardesok; and so to the Pundefold; and so down
by the Shepewey to the Holeweeuen, and then up by a certain fence to
Adame’s Hale (Adam’s Hall), and thus by the assarts which John de
Haldenham (Aldenham) holds at a rent of the king to the corner of
Mokeleyes Rowe (Muckley Row); and thence down to Yapenacres Merwey, where
the first land-mark of the Haye begins. There was also, it was said, a
certain bosc which the King still held in the same forest, called
Benthlegh Haye (Bentley Haye).
In addition to this Haye there was the Haye of Shirlot, opposite to which
a portion of the forest in the fifth of Henry III.’s reign was ordered to
be assarted, which consisted in grubbing up the roots so as to render the
ground fit for tillage.
In connection with these Hayes, generally a staff of foresters,
verderers, rangers, stewards, and regarders was kept up; and forest
courts were also held at stated times (in the forest of the Clee every
six weeks), at which questions and privileges connected with the forest
were considered. Philip de Baggesour, Forester of the Fee in the king’s
free Haye of Schyrlet in 1255, in the Inquisition of Hundreds, is said to
have under him “two foresters, who give him 20_s._ per annum for holding
their office, and to make a levy on oats in Lent, and on wheat in
autumn.” “The aforesaid Philip,” it is said, “hath now in the said Haye
of Windfalls as much as seven trees, and likewise all trees which are
wind-fallen, the jurors know not by what warrant except by ancient
tenure.” These privileged officers had good pickings, evidently by means
of their various time-sanctioned customs, and jolly lives no doubt they
led.
In the forty-second of Henry III. Hammond le Strange was steward of this
forest, and in the second of Edward I. the king’s forester is said to
have given the sheriff of the county notice that he was to convey all the
venison killed in the forests of Salop, and deliver it at Westminster to
the king’s larder, for the use of the king’s palace. According to the
same record, the profits that were made of the oaks that were fallen were
to be applied to the building of a vessel for the king. In the
nineteenth of Richard II., Richard Chelmswick was appointed forester for
life; and in the twenty-sixth of Henry III. the stewardship both of the
forests of Morfe and of Shirlot was granted to John Hampton and his
heirs.
Some of the chief foresters also held Willey, and probably resided there;
at any rate it is not improbable that a building which bears marks of
extreme antiquity, between Barrow and Broseley, called the Lodge Farm,
was once the hunting lodge. It has underneath strongly arched and
extensive cellaring, which seems to be older than portions of the
superstructure, and which may have held the essentials for feasts, for
which sportsmen of all times have been famous. Near the lodge, too, is
the _Dear-Loape_, or Deer Leap, a little valley through which once
evidently ran a considerable stream, and near which the soil is still
black, wet, and boggy. A deer leap, dear loape, or _saltory_, was a
pitfall—a contrivance common during the forest periods, generally at the
edge of the chace, for taking deer, and often granted by charter as a
privilege—as that, for instance, on the edge of Cank, or Cannock Chace.
Sometimes these pitfalls, dug for the purpose of taking game, were used
by poachers, who drove the deer into them. It is, therefore, easy to
understand why the forest lodge should be near, as a protection. It was
usually one of the articles of inquiry at the Swainmote Court whether
“any man have any great close within three miles of the forest that have
any saltories, or great gaps called deer loapes, to receive deer into
them when they be in chasing, and when they are in them they cannot get
out again.”
[Picture: Deer Leap]
Among sportsmen of these forest periods we must not omit to notice the
Priors of the ancient Abbey of Wenlock. The heads of such wealthy
establishments by no means confined themselves within the limits of the
chapter-house. They were no mere cloistered monks, devoted to book and
candle, but jolly livers, gaily dressed, and waited upon by
well-appointed servants; like the Abbot of Buildwas, who had for his
vassal the Lord of Buildwas Parva, who held land under him on condition
that he and his wife should place the first dish on the abbot’s table on
Christmas Day, and ride with him any whither within the four seas at the
abbot’s charge. They had huntsmen and hounds, and one can imagine their
sporting visitation rounds among their churches, the chanting of priests,
the deep-mouthed baying of dogs, early matins, and the huntsman’s bugle
horn harmoniously blending in the neighbourhood of the forest. Hugh
Montgomery in his day gave to the abbey a tithe of the venison which he
took in its woods, and in 1190 we find the Prior of Wenlock giving twenty
merks to the king that he may “have the Wood of Shirlott to himself,
exempt from view of foresters, and taken out of the Regard.” As we have
already shown, the priors had a park at Madeley, they had one at
Oxenbold, and they also had privileges over woods adjoining the forest of
the Clees, where the Cliffords exercised rights ordinarily belonging to
royal proprietors, and where their foresters carried things with such a
high hand, and so frequently got into trouble with those of the priors,
that the latter were glad to accept an arrangement, come to after much
litigation in 1232, by which they were to have a tenth beast only of
those taken in their own woods at Stoke and Ditton, and of those started
in their demesne boscs, and taken elsewhere. These boscs appear to have
been woodland patches connecting the long line of forest stretching along
the flanks of the Clee Hills with that on the high ground of Shirlot and,
as in the case of others even much further removed, their ownership was
exceedingly limited. One of the complaints against Clifford’s foresters
was, that they would not suffer the priors’ men to keep at Ditton Priors
and Stoke St. Milburgh any dogs not _expedited_, or mutilated in their
feet, nor pasture for their goats.
[Picture: Chapter House of Wenlock Priory]
Imbert, one of these priors, was chosen as one of the Commissioners for
concluding a truce with David ap Llewellyn in July, 1244. He was
subsequently heavily fined for trespasses for assarting, or grubbing up
the roots of trees, in forest lands at Willey, Broseley, Coalbrookdale,
Madeley, and other places, the charge for trespass amounting to the large
sum of £126 13_s._ 4_d._
A survey of the Haye of Shirlot, made by four knights of the county,
pursuant to a royal writ in October 21, 1235, sets forth “its custody
good as regards oak trees and underwood, except that great deliveries
have been made by order of the king to the Abbeys of Salop and Bildewas,
to the Priory of Wenlock, and to the Castle of Brug, for the repairs of
buildings, &c.”
Some curious tenures existed within the jurisdiction of this forest, one
of which it may be worth while deviating from our present purpose to
notice, as it affords an insight into the early iron manufacturing
operations which, at a later period, led to the destruction of forest
trees, but, at the same time, to the development of the mineral wealth of
the district within and bordering upon the forest. Of its origin nothing
is known; but it is supposed to have arisen out of some kingly peril or
other forest incident connected with the chase. It consisted in this,
that the tenant of the king at the More held his land upon the condition
that he appeared yearly in the Exchequer with a hazel rod of a year’s
growth and a cubit’s length, and two knives. The treasurer and barons
being present, the tenant was to attempt to sever the rod with one of the
knives, so that it bent or broke. The other knife was to do the same
work at one stroke, and to be given up to the king’s chamberlain for
royal use. {41}
That iron was manufactured at a very early period in the heart of the
forests of Shirlot and the Clees, is shown by Leland, who informs us that
in his day there were blow-shops upon the Brown Clee Hills in Shropshire,
where iron ores were exposed upon the hill sides, and where, from the
fact that wood was required for smelting, it is only reasonable to look
for them. Historical records and monastic writings, as well as old
tenures, traditions, and heaps of slag, tell us that iron had been
manufactured in the midst of these woods from very remote periods. As
far back as 1250, a notice occurs of a right of road granted by Philip de
Benthall, Lord of Benthall, to the monks of Buildwas, over all his
estate, for the carriage of stone, coal, and timber; and in an old work
in the Deer Leap, very primitive wooden shovels, and wheels flanged and
cut out of the solid block, and apparently designed to bear heavy
weights, were found a short time since, which are now in possession of
Mr. Thursfield, of Barrow, together with an iron axletree and some brass
sockets, two of which have on them “P. B.,” being the initials of Philip
Benthall, or Philip Burnel, it is supposed, the latter having succeeded
the former. At Linley, and the Smithies, traces of old forges occur; so
that there is good reason for supposing that knives and other articles of
iron may have been manufactured in the district from a very early period.
Among the assets, for instance, of the Priory of Wenlock, in the year
1541–2, is a mine of ironstone, at Shirlot, fermed for £2 6_s._ 1_d._ per
annum; and a forge, described as an Ierne Smythee, or a smith’s place, in
Shirlot, rented at £12 8_s._ Another forge produced £2 13_s._ 4_d._ per
annum; and the produce of some other mineral, probably coal, was £5 3_s._
10_d._ These large rents for those days show the advance made in turning
to account the mineral wealth of the district, and the superior value of
mines compared with trees, or mere surface produce.
Wherever powerful streams came down precipitous channels, little forges
with clanging hammers were heard reverberating through the woods as early
as the reigns of the Tudors. Their sites now are—
“Downy banks damask’d with flowers:”
but they reveal the havoc made of the timber by cutting and burning it
for charcoal down to the reign of Elizabeth, when an act was passed to
restrict the use for such purposes.
These iron-making and mining operations caused the forest to be
intersected by roads and tramways, as old maps and reports of the forest
shew us; so that few beasts, except those passing between their more
secluded haunts, were to be found there; and, as the stragglers preferred
the tender vegetation the garden of the cottager afforded, even these
were sometimes noosed, or shot with bows and arrows, which made no noise.
[Picture: Waterfall]
To such an extent had destruction of timber in this and other forests in
the country been carried, that it was feared that in the event of a
foreign war sufficient timber could not be found for the use of the navy.
A reaction, however, set in: wealthy landowners set themselves to work to
remedy the evil by planting and preserving trees, especially the oak; and
many of the woods and plantations which gladden the eye of the traveller
in passing through the country, and which afford good sport to the
Wheatland and Albrighton packs, were the result.
To this indigenous and deep-rooted love of sport we are therefore
indebted, to a very great extent, for those beautiful woods which adorn
the Willey country and many other portions of the kingdom. But for our
woods and the “creeping things” they shelter, we should have imperfect
conceptions of those earlier phases of the island:—
“When stalked the bison from his shaggy lair,
Thousands of years before the silent air
Was pierced by whizzing shafts of hunters keen.”
The country would have been wanting in subjects such as Creswick, with
faithful expressions of foliage and knowledge of the play of light and
shade, has depicted. It would have lost the text-work of those
characteristics Constable revelled in, and those Harding gave us in his
oaks. We should have lost subjects for the poet as well as for the
painter; for the ballad literature of the country is redolent of sights
and sounds associated therewith. To come down from the earliest times.
How the old Druids reverenced them! how the compilers of that surprising
survey of the country we find in Domesday noted all details concerning
them! what joyous allusions Chaucer, Spenser, and later writers make to
them! what peculiar charms the “merry green-wood” and the deep forest
glades had for the imagination of the people! Hence the popular sympathy
expressed by means of tales and traditions in connection with Sherwood’s
sylvan shade, and the many editions of the song of the bold outlaw, and
of the adventures contained therein. Even the utilitarian philosopher
and the ultra radical, fleeing from the stifling atmosphere of the town,
and diving for an hour or so into some paternal wood, is inclined, we
fancy, to sponge from his memory the bitter things he has said of the
owners and of that aristocratic class who usually value and guard them as
they do their picture galleries. Thanks to such as these, there is now
scarcely a run in the Willey country but brings the sportsman face to
face with vestiges of some sylvan memorial Nature or man has planted
along the hill and valley sides, memorials renewed again and again, as
winter after winter rends the red leaves from the trees: and the man who
has not made a pilgrimage, for sport or otherwise, through these
far-reaching sylvan slopes along the valley of the Severn, stretching
almost uninterruptedly for seven or eight miles, or through some similar
wooded tract, witnessing the sheltered inequalities of the surface,
varied by rocky glens and rushy pools—the winter haunt of snipe and
woodcock—has missed much that might afford him the highest interest.
Here and there, on indurated soils along the valley sides, opportunities
occur of studying the manner in which trees of several centuries’ growth
send their gnarled and massive roots in between the rocks in search of
nourishment, for firmness, or to resist storms that shake branches little
inferior to the parent stem. Few places probably have finer old hollies
and yew-trees indigenous to the soil, relieving the monotony of the
general grey by their sombre green—trees rooted where they grew six or
eight centuries since, and carrying back the mind to the time of Harold
and the bowmen days of Robin Hood.
[Picture: Forest scenery]
Spoonhill, a very well-known covert of the Wheatland Hunt, was a slip of
woodland as early as a perambulation in 1356, when it was recorded to lie
outside the forest, its boundary on the Shirlot side being marked by a
famous oak called Kinsok, “which stood on the king’s highway between
Weston and Wenlock.”
The Larden and Lutwyche woods for many years have been famous for foxes.
The late M. Benson, Esq., told us that a fox had for several seasons made
his home securely in a tree near his house, he having taken care to keep
his secret. The woods, too, on the opposite side of the ridge, rarely
fail to furnish a fox; and it is difficult to imagine a finer spot than
Smallman’s Leap, {49a} or Ipikin’s Rock, on the “Hill Top,” presents for
viewing a run over Hughley and Kenley, or between there and Hope Bowdler.
Near Lutwyche is a thick entangled wood, called Mog Forest; and in the
old door of the Church of Easthope, {49b} near, is a large iron ring,
which is conjectured to have been placed there for outlaws of the forest
who sought sanctuary or freedom from arrest to take hold of. Now and
then, in wandering over the sites of these former forests, we come upon
traditions of great trees, sometimes upon an aged tree itself, “bald with
antiquity,” telling of parent forest tracts, like the Lady Oak at
Cressage, which formerly stood in the public highway, and suffered much
from gipsies and other vagabonds lighting fires in its hollow trunk, but
which is now propped, cramped, and cared for, with as much concern as the
Druids were wont to show to similar trees. A young tree, too, sprung
from an acorn from the old one, has grown up within its hollow trunk, and
now mingles its foliage with that of the parent.
[Picture: Lady Oak]
There are a few fine old trees near Willey, supposed to be fragmentary
forest remains. One is a patriarchal-looking ash in the public road at
Barrow; another is an oak near the Dean; it is one of which the present
noble owner of Willey shows the greatest pride and care. There are also
two noble trees at Shipton and Larden; the one at the latter place being
a fine beech, the branches of which, when tipped with foliage, have a
circumference of 35 yards. A magnificent oak, recently cut down in Corve
Dale, contained 300 cubic feet of timber, and was 18 feet in
circumference. This, however, was a sapling compared with that king of
forest trees which Loudon describes as having been cut down in Willey
Park. It spread 114 feet, and had a trunk 9 feet in diameter, exclusive
of the bark. It contained 24 cords of yard wood, 11½ cords of four-feet
wood, 252 park palings, six feet long, 1 load of cooper’s wood, 16½ tons
of timber in all the boughs; 28 tons of timber in the body, and this
besides fagots and boughs that had dropped off:—
“What tales, if there be tongues in trees,
Those giant oaks could tell,
Of beings born and buried here;
Tales of the peasant and the peer,
Tales of the bridal and the bier
The welcome and farewell.”
The old oak forests and chestnut groves which supplied the sturdy
framework for the half-timbered houses of our ancestors, the rafters for
their churches, and the beams for their cathedrals, are gone; and the
mischief is, not only that we have lost former forests, but that our
present woods every year are growing less, that much of that shrubby
foliage which within our own recollection divided the fields, forming
little copses in which a Morland would have revelled, have had to give
way to agricultural improvements, and the objects of sport they sheltered
have disappeared. The badger lingered to the beginning of the present
century along the rocks of Benthall and Apley; and the otter, which still
haunts portions of the Severn and its more secluded tributaries, and
occasionally affords sport in some parts of the country higher up, was
far from being rare. On the left bank of the Severn are the
“Brock-holes,” or badger-holes, whilst near to it are the “Fox-holes,”
where tradition alleges foxes a generation or two ago to have been
numerous enough to have been a nuisance; and the same remark may apply to
the “Fox-holes” at Benthall. As the district became more cultivated and
the country more populated, the range of these animals became more and
more circumscribed, and the cherished sports of our forefathers came to
form the staple topics of neighbours’ oft-told tales.
Within our own recollection the badger was to be found at Benthall Edge;
but he had two enemies—the fox, who sometimes took possession of his den
and drove him from the place, and the miners of Broseley and Benthall,
who were usually great dog-fanciers, and who were accustomed to steal
forth as the moon rose above the horizon, and intercept him as he left
his long winding excavation among the rocks, in order to make sport for
them at their annual wakes.
[Picture: The Badger]
[Picture: Group of deer]
CHAPTER IV.
THE WREKIN FOREST AND THE FORESTERS.
The Wrekin Forest—Hermit of Mount St. Gilbert—Poachers upon the King’s
Preserves—Extent of the Forest—Haye of Wellington—Robert
Forester—Perquisites—Hunting Matches—Singular Grant to John Forester—Sir
Walter Scott’s Tony Foster a Member of the Shropshire Forester
Family—Anthony Foster Lord of the Manor of Little Wenlock—The Foresters
of Sutton and Bridgnorth—Anthony Foster altogether a different Character
from what Sir Walter Scott represents him.
“I am clad in youthful green, I other colours scorn,
My silken bauldrick bears my bugle or my horn,
Which, setting to my lips, I wind so loud and shrill,
As makes the echoes shout from every neighbouring hill;
My dog-hook at my belt, to which my thong is tied,
My sheaf of arrows by, my wood-knife by my side,
My cross-bow in my hand, my gaffle on my rack,
To bend it when I please, or if I list to slack;
My hound then in my thong, I, by the woodman’s art,
Forecast where I may lodge the goodly hie-palm’d hart,
To view the grazing herds, so sundry times I use,
Where by the loftiest head I knew my deer to choose;
And to unherd him, then I gallop o’er the ground,
Upon my well-breathed nag, to cheer my learning hound.
Some time I pitch my toils the deer alive to take,
Some time I like the cry the deep-mouthed kennel make;
Then underneath my horse I stalk my game to strike,
And with a single dog to hunt or hurt him as I like.”
DRAYTON.
IT is important, to the completion of our sketch of the earlier features
of the country, that we cross the Severn and say a word or two respecting
the forest of the Wrekin, of which the early ancestors of the present
Willey family had charge. This famous hill must then have formed a
feature quite as conspicuous in the landscape as it does at present. As
it stood out above the wide-spreading forest that surrounded it, it must
have looked like a barren island amid a waving sea of green. From its
position and outline too, it appears to have been selected during the
struggles which took place along the borders as a military fortress,
judging from the entrenchments near its summit, and the tumuli both here
and in the valley at its foot, where numbers of broken weapons have been
found. At a later period it is spoken of as Mount St. Gilbert, in
honour, it is said, of a recluse to whom the Gilbertine monks ascribe
their origin. Whether the saint fixed his abode in the cleft called the
Needle’s Eye (which tradition alleges to have been made at the
Crucifixion), or on some other part of the hill, there is no evidence to
show; but that there was a hermitage there at one time, and that whilst
the woods around were stocked with game, is clear. It is charitable to
suppose, however, that the good man who pitched his tent so high above
his fellows abstained from such tempting luxuries, that on his wooden
trencher no king’s venison smoked, and that fare more becoming gown and
girdle contented him; so at least it must have been reported to Henry
III., who, to give the hermit, Nicholas de Denton by name, “greater
leisure for holy exercises, and to support him during his life, so long
as he should be a hermit on the aforesaid mountain,” granted six quarters
of corn, to be paid by the Sheriff of Shropshire, out of the issues of
Pendleston Mill, near Bridgnorth.
[Picture: Needle’s Eye]
That there were, however, poachers upon the king’s preserves appears from
a criminal prosecution recorded on the Forest Roll of 1209, to the effect
that four of the county sergeants found venison in the house of Hugh le
Scot, who took asylum in a church, and, refusing to quit, “there lived a
month,” but afterwards “escaped in woman’s clothes.”
Certain sales of forest land made by Henry II. near the Wrekin, and
entered on the Forest Roll of 1180, together with the assessments and
perambulations of later periods, afford some idea of the extent of this
forest, which, from the Severn and the limits of Shrewsbury, swept round
by Tibberton and Chetwynd to the east, and included Lilleshall, St.
George’s, Dawley, Shifnal, Kemberton, and Madeley on the south. From the
“Survey of Shropshire Forests” in 1235, it appears that the following
woods were subject to its jurisdiction: Leegomery, Wrockwardine Wood,
Eyton-on-the-Weald Moors, Lilleshall, Sheriffhales, the Lizard,
Stirchley, and Great Dawley. A later perambulation fixed the bounds of
the royal preserve, or Haye of Wellington, in which two burnings of lime
for the use of the crown are recorded, as well as the fact that three
hundred oak-trees were consumed in the operation.
Hugh Forester, and Robert the Forester, are spoken of as tenants of the
crown in connection with this Haye; and it is an interesting coincidence
that the land originally granted by one of the Norman earls, or by King
Henry I., for the custody of this Haye, which included what is now called
Hay Gate, is still in possession of the present noble owner of Willey.
It seems singular, however, that in the “Arundel Rolls” of 1255, it
should be described as a _pourpresture_, for which eighteen pence per
acre was paid to the king, as being held by the said Robert Forester
towards the custody of the Wellington Haia.
[Picture: Deer and young]
Among the perquisites which the said Robert Forester was allowed, as
Keeper of the Haye, all dead wood and windfalls are mentioned, unless
more than five oak-trees were blown down at a time, in which case they
went to the king. The Haye is spoken of here as an “imparkment,” which
agrees with the descriptions of Chaucer and other old writers, who speak
of a Haia as a place paled in, or enclosed, into which deer or other game
were driven, as they now drive deer in North America, or elephants in
India, and of grants of land made to those whose especial duty it was to
drive the deer with their troop of followers from all parts of a wide
circle into such enclosure for slaughter. The following description of
deer-hunting in the seventeenth century by Taylor, the Water Poet, as he
is called, will enable us to understand the plan pursued by the Norman
sportsmen:—
“Five or six hundred men do rise early in the morning, and they do
disperse themselves divers ways; and seven, eight, or ten miles’
compass, they do bring or chase in the deer in many herds (two,
three, or four hundred in a herd) to such a place as the noblemen
shall appoint them; then, when the day is come, the lords and
gentlemen of their companies do ride or go to the said places,
sometimes wandering up to the middle through bourns, and rivers; and
then, they being come to the place, do lie down on the ground till
those foresaid scouts, which are called the Tinkheldt, do bring down
the deer. Then, after we had stayed three hours or there abouts, we
might perceive the deer appear on the hills round about us (their
heads making a show like a wood), which being followed close by the
Tinkheldt, are chased down into the valley where we lay; then all the
valley on each side being waylaid with a hundred couple of strong
Irish greyhounds, they are let loose as occasion serves upon the herd
of deer, that with dogs, guns, arrows, dirks, and daggers, in the
space of two hours fourscore fat deer were slain.”
Hunting matches were sometimes made in these forests, and one, embittered
by some family feud respecting a fishery, terminated in the death of a
bold and ancient knight, an event recorded upon a stone covering his
remains in the quaint and truly ancient church at Atcham.
“The bugle sounds, ’tis Berwick’s lord
O’er Wrekin drives the deer;
That hunting match—that fatal feud—
Drew many a widow’s tear.
“With deep-mouthed talbe to rouse the game
His generous bosom warms,
Till furious foemen check the chase
And dare the din of arms.
“Then fell the high-born Malveysin,
His limbs besmeared with gore;
No more his trusty bow shall twang,
His bugle blow no more.
“Whilst Ridware mourns her last brave son
In arms untimely slain,
With kindred grief she here records
The last of Berwick’s train.”
[Picture: Atcham Church]
Robert Forester appears to have had charge not only of the Haye of the
Wrekin, but also of that of Morfe, for both of which he is represented as
answering at the Assizes in February, 1262, for the eight years then
past. A Robert Forester is also described as one chosen with the
sheriff, the chief forester, and verderers of Shropshire in 1242, to try
the question touching the _expeditation_ of dogs on the estates of the
Lilleshall Abbey, and his seal still remains attached to the juror’s
return now in possession of the Sutherland family at Trentham.
A Roger de Wellington, whom Mr. Eyton calls Roger le Forester the second,
is also described as one of six royal foresters-of-the-fee, who, on June
6th, 1300, met to assist at the great perambulation of Shropshire
forests. He was admitted a burgess of Shrewsbury in 1319. John
Forester, his son and heir, it is supposed, was baptised at Wellington,
and attained his majority in 1335; {63} and a John Forester—a lineal
descendant of his—obtained the singular grant, now at Willey, from Henry
VIII., privileging him to wear his hat in the royal presence. After the
usual formalities the grant proceeds:—“Know all men, our officers,
ministers, &c. Forasmuch as we be credibly informed that our trusty and
well-beloved John Foster, of Wellington, in the county of Salop,
Gentilman, for certain diseases and infirmities which he has on his hede,
cannot consequently, without great danger and jeopardy, be discovered of
the same. Whereupon we, in consideration thereof, by these presents,
licenced hym from henceforth to use and were his bonet on his said hede,”
&c.
It will be observed that in this grant the name occurs in its abridged
form as Foster, and in the Sheriffs of Shropshire and many old documents
it is variously spelt as Forester, Forster, and Foster, a circumstance
which during the progress of the present work suggested an inquiry, the
result of which—mainly through the researches of a painstaking friend—may
add weight and interest to the archæological lore previously collected in
connection with the family. It appears, for instance, that the Anthony
Foster of Sir Walter Scott’s “Kenilworth” was descended from the
Foresters of Wellington; that he held the manor of Little Wenlock and
other property in Shropshire in 1545; that the Richard Forester or
Forster who built the interesting half-timbered mansion, {64} still
standing in the Cartway, Bridgnorth, where Bishop Percy, the author of
“Percy’s Reliques,” was born, was also a member; and that Anne, the
daughter of this Richard Forester or Forster, was married in 1575 at
Sutton Maddock to William Baxter, the antiquary, mentioned by the Rev.
George Bellet at page 183 of the “Antiquities of Bridgnorth.” Mr.
Bellet, speaking of another mansion of the Foresters at Bridgnorth, says,
“One could wish, as a mere matter of curiosity, that a remarkable
building, called ‘Forester’s Folly,’ had been amongst those which escaped
the fire; for it was built by Richard Forester, the private secretary of
no less famous a person than Bishop Bonner, and bore the above
appellation most likely on account of the cost of its erection.” William
Baxter, who, it will be seen, was a descendant of the Foresters, has an
interesting passage in his life referring to the circumstance. {66}
[Picture: Richard Forester’s Old Mansion]
We believe that the Forester pedigree in the MS. collection of Shropshire
pedigrees, now in possession of Sidney Stedman Smith, Esq., compiled by
that careful and painstaking genealogist the late Mr. Hardwick, fully
confirms this, and shows that the Foresters of Watling Street, the
Foresters or Forsters of Sutton Maddock, and the Forsters or Fosters of
Evelith Manor were the same family. The arms, like the names, differ;
but all have the hunter’s horn stringed; and if any doubt existed as to
the identity of the families, it is still further removed by a little
work entitled “An Inquiry concerning the death of Amy Robsart,” by S. J.
Pettigrew, F.R.S., F.S.A. Mr. Pettigrew says: “Anthony Forster was the
fourth son of Richard Forster, of Evelith, in Shropshire, by Mary,
daughter of Sir Thomas Gresley, of an ancient family. The Anthony
Forster of Sir Walter Scott’s novel is supposed to have been born about
1510; and a relative, Thomas, was the prior of an ecclesiastical
establishment at Wombridge, the warden of Tong, and the vicar of Idsall,
as appears by his altar-tomb in Shifnal Church. He is conjectured to
have attended to the early education of Anthony, whose after-connection
with Berks is accounted for by the fact that he married somewhere between
1530 and 1540 a Berkshire lady, Ann, daughter of Reginald Williams,
eldest son of Sir John Williams. He purchased Cumnor Place, in Berks, of
William Owen, son of Dr. G. Owen, physician to Henry VIII. He was not,
therefore, as Sir Walter Scott alleges, a tenant of the Earl of
Leicester, to whom, however, he left Cumnor Place by will at his death in
1572.” It is gratifying to find that Mr. Pettigrew, in his “Inquiry,”
shows how groundless was the charge built up by Sir Walter Scott against
the Earl of Leicester; and, what is still more to our purpose, that he
completely clears the character of Anthony Forster, who was supposed to
have been the agent in the foul deed, of the imputation, and shows him to
have been quite a different character to that represented by this
distinguished writer. This, indeed, may be inferred from the fact that
Anthony Forster not only enjoyed the confidence of his neighbours, but so
grew in favour with the people of Abingdon that he acceded in 1570 to the
representation of that borough, and continued to represent it till he
died; also, from the inscription on his tomb, which is as follows:—
“Anthonius Forster, generis generosa propago,
Cumneræ Dominus Barcheriensis erat;
Armiger, Armigero prognatus patre Ricardo,
Qui quondam Iphlethæ Salopiensis erat.
Quatuor ex isto fluxerunt stemmate nati,
Ex isto Antonius stemmate quartus erat.
Mente sagax, animo præcellens, corpore promptus;
Eloquii dulcis, ore disertus erat.
In factis probitas fuit, in sermonte venustas,
In vultu gravitas, religione fides;
In patriam pietas, in egenos grata voluntas,
Accedunt reliquis annumeranda bonis:
Sic quod cuncta rapit, rapuit non omnia Lethum,
Sed quæ Mors rapuit, vivida fama dedit.”
Then follow these laudatory verses:—
“Argute resonas Citharæ prætendere chordas,
Novit et Aonia concrepuisse lyra.
Gaudebat terræ teneras defigere plantas,
Et mira pulchras construere arte domos.
Composita varias lingua formare loquelas,
Doctus et edocta scribere multa manu.”
Cleared of the slanders which had been so unjustly heaped upon his
memory, one can welcome Anthony Forster, the Squire of Cumnor, as a
member of the same distinguished family from which the Willey Squire and
the present ennobled house of Willey are descended. {69} But before
introducing the Squire, it is fitting to say something of Willey itself.
CHAPTER V.
WILLEY.
Willey, close Neighbour to the Royal Chace of Shirlot—Etymology of the
Name—Domesday—The Willileys—The Lacons—The Welds and the Foresters—Willey
Old Hall—Cumnor Hall as described by Sir Walter Scott—Everything Old and
Quaint—How Willey came into possession of the Foresters.
“’Bove the foliage of the wood
An antique mansion might you then espy,
Such as in the days of our forefathers stood,
Carved with device of quaintest imagery.”
[Picture: Willey Old Hall]
TO commence with its earlier phase, it was clear that Willey would be
close neighbour to the Royal Chace of Shirlot, and that it must have been
about the centre of the wooded country previously described. The name is
said to be of Saxon origin; and in wattle and dab and wicker-work times,
when an osier-bed was probably equal in value to a vineyard, the place
might have been as the word seems to suggest, one where willows grew,
seeing that various osiers, esteemed by basket makers, coopers, and
turners, still flourish along the stream winding past it to the Severn.
The name is therefore redolent of the olden time, and is one of those old
word-pictures which so often occur to indicate the earlier features of
the country. Under its agricultural Saxon holders, however, Willey so
grew in value and importance that when the Conquest was complete, and
King William’s generals were settling down to enjoy the good things the
Saxons had provided, and as Byron has it—
“Manors
Were their reward for following Billy’s banners,”
Willey fell to the lot of a Norman, named Turold, who, as he held twelve
other manors, considerately permitted the Saxon owner to continue in
possession under him. Domesday says: “The same Turold holds Willey, and
Hunnit (holds it) of him.” “Here is half a hide geldable. Here is
arable land sufficient for ii ox teams. Here those ox teams are,
together with ii villains, and ii boors. Its value is v shillings.” At
the death of Hunnit the manor passed to a family which took its name from
the place; and considerable additions resulted from the marriage of one,
Warner de Williley, with the heiress of Roger Fitz Odo, of Kenley.
Warner de Williley appears to have been a person of some consequence,
from the fact that he was appointed to make inquiry concerning certain
encroachments upon the royal forests of Shropshire; but an act of
oppression and treachery, in which his wife had taken a part, against one
of his own vassals, whose land he coveted, caused him to be committed to
prison. Several successive owners of Willey were overseers of Shirlot
Forest; and Nicholas, son and heir of Warner, was sued for inattention to
his duties; an under tenant also, profiting probably by the laxity of his
lord, at a later period was charged and found guilty of taking a stag
from the king’s preserves, on Sunday, June 6th, 1253. Andrew de Williley
joined Mountford against King Edward, and fell August 4th, 1265, in the
battle of Evesham; in consequence of which act of disloyalty the property
was forfeited to the crown, and the priors of Wenlock, who already had
the seigniory usual to feudal lords, availing themselves of the
opportunity, managed so to increase their power that a subsequent tenant,
as shown by the Register at Willey, came to Wenlock (1388), and “before
many witnesses did homage and fealty,” and acknowledged himself to hold
the place of the lord prior by carrying his frock to parliament. They
succeeded too, after several suits, in establishing their rights to the
advowson of the Church, founded and endowed by the lords of the place.
By the middle of the 16th century Willey had passed to the hands of the
old Catholic family of the Lacons, one of whom, Sir Roland, held it in
1561, together with Kinlet; and from them it passed to Sir John Weld, who
is mentioned as of Willey in 1666. He married the daughter of Sir George
Whitmore, and his son, George Weld, sat for the county with William
Forester, who married the daughter of the Earl of Salisbury, and voted
with him in favour of the succession of the House of Hanover.
Who among the former feudal owners of Willey built the old hall, is a
question which neither history nor tradition serves to solve. Portions
of the basement of the old buildings seem to indicate former structures
still more ancient, like spurs of some primitive rock cropping up into a
subsequent formation. Contrasted with the handsome modern freestone
mansion occupied by the Right Hon. Lord Forester close by, the remains
shown in our engraving look like a stranded wreck, past which centuries
of English life have gone sweeping by. Some of the walls are three feet
in thickness, and the buttressed chimneys, and small-paned windows—“set
deep in the grey old tower”—make it a fair type of country mansions and a
realisation of ideas such as the mind associates with the homes of the
early owners of Willey.
Although occupying a slight eminence, it really nestles in the hollow,
and in its buff-coloured livery it stands pleasingly relieved by the high
ground of Shirlot and its woods beyond. In looking upon its quaint
gables, shafts, and chimneys, one feels that when it was complete it must
have had something of the poetry of ancient art about it. Its
irregularities of outline must have fitted in, as it were, with the
undulating landscape, with which its walls are now tinted into harmony,
by brown and yellow lichens. There was nothing assuming or pretentious
about it; it was content to stand close neighbour to the public old coach
road, which came winding by from Bridgnorth to Wenlock, and passed
beneath the arch which now connects the high-walled gardens with the
shaded walk leading to its modern neighbour, the present mansion of the
Foresters.
Sir Walter Scott, in his description of Cumnor Place, speaks of woods
closely adjacent, full of large trees, and in particular of ancient and
mighty oaks, which stretched their giant arms over the high wall
surrounding the demesne, thus giving it a secluded and monastic
appearance. He describes its formal walks and avenues as in part choked
up with grass, and interrupted by billets, and piles of brushwood, and he
tells us of the old-fashioned gateway in the outer wall, and of the door
formed of two huge oaken leaves, thickly studded with nails—like the gate
of an old town. This picture of the approaches to the old mansion where
Anthony Foster lived was no doubt a more faithful representation than the
one he gave of the character of the man himself. At any rate, it is one
which would in many respects apply to old Willey Hall and its
surroundings at the time to which the great novelist refers. Everything
was old and old-fashioned, even as its owners prided themselves it should
be, and as grey as time and an uninterrupted growth of lichens in a
congenial atmosphere could make it. Hollies, yews, and junipers were to
be seen in the grounds, and outside were oaks and other aged trees,
scathed by lightning’s bolt and winter’s blast. Here and there stood a
few monarchs of the old forest in groups, each group a brotherhood
sublime, carrying the thoughts back to the days when “from glade to
glade, through wild copse and tangled dell, the wild deer bounded.”
Trees, buildings, loose stones that had fallen, and still lay where they
fell, were mossed with a hoar antiquity. Everything in fact seemed to
say that the place had a history of its own, and that it could tell a
tale of the olden time.
From the lawn and grounds adjoining a path led to the flower-gardens,
intersected by gravel walks and grassy terraces, where a sun-dial stood,
and where fountains, fed by copious supplies from unfailing springs on
the high grounds of Shirlot, threw silvery showers above the shadows of
the trees into the sunlight.
Willey, augmented by tracts of Shirlot, which was finally disafforested
and apportioned two centuries since, came into possession of the
Foresters by the marriage of Brook Forester, of Dothill Park, with
Elizabeth, only surviving child and heiress of George Weld, of Willey;
and George Forester, “the Squire of Willey,” was the fruit of that
marriage.
CHAPTER VI.
THE WILLEY SQUIRE.
Squire Forester—His Instincts and Tendencies—Atmosphere of the Times
favourable for their Development—Thackeray’s Opinion—Style of
Hunting—Dawn of the Golden Age of Fox-hunting, &c.
IT will be seen that around Willey and Willey Hall, associations crowd
which serve to make the place a household word and Squire Forester a man
of mark with modern sportsmen and future Nimrods, at any rate if we
consent to regard the Squire’s characteristics as outcrops of the
instincts of an ancient stock. Descended from an ancestry so associated
with forest sports and pursuits, he was like a moving plant which
receives its nourishment from the air, and he lived chiefly through his
senses. He was waylaid, as it were, on life’s path by hereditary
tendencies, and his career was chequered by indulgences which, read in
the light of the present day, look different from what they then did,
when at court and in the country there were many to keep him in
countenance. At any rate, Squire Forester lived in what may be called
the dawn of the golden age of fox-hunting. We say dawn, because although
Lord Arundel kept a pack of hounds some time between 1690 and 1700, and
Sir John Tyrwhitt and Charles Pelham, Esq., did so in 1713, yet as Lord
Wilton, in his “Sports and Pursuits of the English” states, the first
real pack of foxhounds was established in the West of England about 1730.
It was a period when, for various reasons, a reaction in favour of the
manly sports of England’s earlier days had set in, one being the
discovery that those distinguished for such sports were they who assisted
most in winning on the battle-fields of the Continent the victories which
made the British arms so renowned. Then, as now, it was found that they
led to the development of the physical frame—sometimes to the removal of
absolute maladies, and supplied the raw material of manliness out of
which heroes are made—a view which the Duke of Wellington in some measure
confirmed by the remark that the best officers he had under him during
the Peninsular War were those whom he discovered to be bold riders to
hounds. Lord Wilton, in his book just quoted, goes still further, by
contending that “the greatness and glory of Great Britain are in no
slight degree attributable to her national sports and pastimes.”
That such sports contributed to the jollity and rollicking fun which
distinguished the time in which Squire Forester lived, there can be
little doubt. In his “Four Georges,” Thackeray gives it as his opinion,
that “the England of our ancestors was a merrier England than the island
we inhabit,” and that the people, high and low, amused themselves very
much more. “One hundred and twenty years ago,” he says, “every town had
its fair, and every village its wake. The old poets have sung a hundred
jolly ditties about great cudgel playings, famous grinnings through
horse-collars, great Maypole meetings, and morris-dances. The girls used
to run races, clad in very light attire; and the kind gentry and good
parsons thought no shame in looking on.” He adds, “I have calculated the
manner in which statesmen and persons of condition passed their time; and
what with drinking and dining, and supping and cards, wonder how they
managed to get through their business at all.” That they did manage to
work, and to get through a considerable amount of it, is quite clear; and
probably they did so with all the more ease in consequence of the
amusement which often came first, as in the case of “Naughty idle Bobby,”
as Clive was called when a boy; and not less so in that of Pitt, who did
so much to develop that spirit of patriotism of which we boast. It was a
remark of Addison, that “those who have searched most into human nature
observe that nothing so much shows the nobleness of the soul as that its
felicity consists in action;” and that “every man has such an active
principle in him that he will find out something to employ himself upon
in whatever place or state he is posted.”
[Picture: The Old Squire]
Those familiar with the _Spectator_ will remember that he represents
himself to have become so enamoured of the chase, that in his letters
from the country he says: “I intend to hunt twice a week during my stay
with Sir Roger, and shall prescribe the moderate use of this exercise to
all my country friends as the best kind of physic for mending a bad
constitution and preserving a good one.” He concludes with the following
quotation from Dryden:—
“The first physicians by debauch were made;
Excess began, and sloth sustains the trade:
By chase our long-liv’d fathers earned their food;
Toil strung their arms and purified their blood.”
But a country squire of Mr. Forester’s day even more pithily and quaintly
expresses himself as to the advantages to be derived from out-door
sports:—“Those useful hours that our fathers employed on horseback in the
fields,” he says, “are lost to their posterity between a stinking pair of
sheets. Balls and operas, assemblies and masquerades, so exhaust the
spirits of the puny creatures over-night, that yawning and chocolate are
the main labours and entertainments of the morning. The important
affairs of barber, milliner, perfumer, and looking-glass, are their
employ till the call to dinner, and the bottle or gaming table demand the
tedious hours that intervene before the return of the evening
assignations. What wonder, then, if such busy, trifling, effeminate
mortals are heard to swear they have no notion of venturing their bodies
out-of-doors in the cold air in the morning? I have laughed heartily to
see such delicate smock-faced animals judiciously interrupting their
pinches of snuff with dull jokes upon fox-hunters; and foppishly
declaiming against an art they know no more of than they do of Greek. It
cannot be expected they should speak well of a toil they dare not
undertake; or that the fine things should be fit to work without doors,
which are of the taylor’s creation.”
CHAPTER VII.
THE WILLEY KENNELS.
The Willey Kennels—Colonel Apperley on Hunting a Hundred Years
ago—Character of the Hounds—Portraits of Favourites—Original
Letters—Style.
“Tantivy! the huntsman he starts for the chase,
In good humour as fresh as the morn,
While health and hilarity beam from his face,
At the sound of the mellow-toned horn.”
THE style of hunting in vogue in Squire Forester’s day was, in the
opinion of authorities on the subject, even more favourable to the
development of bodily strength and endurance than now. The late Mr.
Thursfield, of Barrow, was wont to say that it was no unusual thing to
see Moody taking the hounds to cover before daylight in a morning. The
Squire himself, like most other sportsmen of the period, was an early
man.
[Picture: Childers, Pilot, and Pigmy]
Col. Apperley says: “With our forefathers, when the roost-cock sounded
his clarion, they sounded their horn, throwing off the pack so soon as
they could distinguish a stile from a gate, or, in other words, so soon
as they could see to ride to the hounds. Then it was that the hare was
hunted to her form by the trail, and the fox to his kennel by the drag.
Slow as this system would be deemed, it was a grand treat to the real
sportsman. What, in the language of the chase, is called the
‘tender-nosed hound,’ had an opportunity of displaying itself to the
inexpressible delight of his master; and to the field—that is, to the
sportsmen who joined in the diversion—the pleasures of the day were
enhanced by the moments of anticipation produced by the drag. As the
scent grew warmer, the certainty of finding was confirmed; the music of
the pack increased; and the game being up, away went the hounds in a
crash. Both trail and drag are at present but little thought of. Hounds
merely draw over ground most likely to hold the game they are in quest
of, and thus, in a great measure, rely upon chance for coming across it;
for if a challenge be heard, it can only be inferred that a fox has been
on foot in the night—the scent being seldom sufficient to carry the
hounds up to his kennel. Advantages, however, as far as sport is
concerned, attend the present hour of meeting in the field, independently
of the misery of riding many miles in the dark, which sportsmen in the
early part of the last century were obliged to do. The game, when it is
now aroused, is in a better state to encounter the great speed of modern
hounds; having had time to digest the food it has partaken of in the
night previous to its being stirred. But it is only since the great
increase of hares and foxes that the aid of the trail and drag could be
dispensed with without the frequent recurrence of blank days, which now
seldom happen. Compared with the luxurious ease with which the modern
sportsman is conveyed to the field—either lolling in his chaise and four,
or galloping along at the rate of twenty miles an hour on a
hundred-guinea hack—the situation of his predecessor was all but
distressing. In proportion to the distance he had to ride by starlight
were his hours of rest broken in upon, and exclusive of the time that
operation might consume another serious one was to be provided for—this
was the filling his hair with powder and pomatum until it could hold no
more, and forming it into a well-formed knot, or club, as it was called,
by his valet, which cost commonly a good hour’s work. The protecting mud
boots, the cantering hack, the second horse in the field, were luxuries
unknown to him. His well-soiled buckskins, and brown-topped boots, would
have cut an indifferent figure in the presence of a modern connoisseur by
a Leicestershire cover side.” “Notwithstanding all this, however,” he
adds, “we are inclined strongly to suspect that, out of a given number of
gentlemen taking the field with hounds, the proportion of really
scientific sportsmen may have been in favour of the olden times.”
The Willey Kennels were within easy reach of the Hall, between Willey and
Shirlot, where the pleasant stream before alluded to goes murmuring on
its way through the Smithies to the Severn. But in order to save his
dogs unnecessary exertion there were others on the opposite, or Wrekin,
side of the river—
“Hounds stout and healthy,
Earths well stopped, and foxes plenty,”
being mottoes of the period. The dogs were of the “heavy painstaking
breed” that “stooped to their work.” How, it was said,
“Can the fox-hound ever tell,
Unless by pains he takes to smell,
Where Reynard’s gone?”
Experience taught the Squire the importance of a principle now more
generally acted upon, that of selecting the qualities required in the
hounds he bred from; and by this means he obtained developments of
swiftness and scent that made his pack one good horses only of that day
could keep up with. He prided himself much upon the blood of his best
hounds, knew every one he had by name, and was familiar with its
pedigree. Portraits of four of his favourites were painted on canvas and
hung in the hall, with lines beneath expressive of their qualities, and
the dates at which the paintings were made. The Right Hon. Lord Forester
takes great care of these, as showing in what way the best dogs of that
day differed from those of the present; and through his kindness we have
been enabled to get drawings made, of which his lordship was pleased to
approve, and we fancy there is no better judge living.
Three of these are shown in our engraving at the head of this chapter.
Pigmy, the bitch in the group nearest to the fox, is said to have been
the smallest hound then known. Underneath the portrait are the following
lines:—
“Behold in miniature the foxhound keen,
Thro’ rough and smooth a better ne’er was seen;
As champion here the beauteous Pigmy stands,
She challenges the globe, both home and foreign lands.”
1773.
The one the farthest from the fox, is a white dog, Pilot; and underneath
the painting is the following:—
“Pilot rewards his master Rowley’s care,
And swift as lightning skims the transient air;
Famed for the chase, from cover always first,
His tongue and sterne proclaimed an arrant burst.”
1774.
The dog in front, with his head thrown up, is Childers; and underneath
the picture are these lines:—
“Sportsmen look up, old Childers’ picture view,
His virtues many were, his failings few;
Reynard with dread oft heard his awful name,
And grateful Musters thus rewards his fame.”
1772.
The following letters from Mr. Forester to Walter Stubbs, Esq., of
Beckbury, afterwards of Stratford-on-Avon, where he became distinguished
in connection with the Warwickshire Hunt, show how particular he was in
his selection. It would seem that whilst admiring the Duke of Grafton’s
hounds, which under the celebrated Tom Rose (“Honest old Tom,” as he was
called), who used to say, “a man must breed his pack to suit his
country,” gained some celebrity, he not unnaturally preferred his own.
We give exact copies of two of his letters, they are so characteristic of
the man. In all the letters we have seen he began with a considerable
margin at the side of the paper, but always filled up the space with a
postscript:—
“WILLEY HALL, March 15, 1795.
“DEAR SIR,
“I beg leave to return you my hearty thanks for your civility in
sending your servant to Apley with three couple of my hounds that run
into your’s ye other day. Could I have returned compliment in
sending ye three couple, that were missing from you, I should have
been happy in ye discharge of that duty, so incumbent on every good
sportsman. I hear you are fond of the Duke of Grafton’s hounds.
It’s a sort I have ever admired, and have received favours from his
Grace in that line, having been acquainted together from our infancy
up; and on course, most likely to procure no very bad sort from his
Grace’s own hands. I have sent you (as a present) a little bitch of
ye Grafton kind, which I call Whymsy, lately taken up from quarters,
and coming towards a year old. She’s rather under size for me, or
otherwise I see not her fault. She’s, in my opinion, _a true
Non-Pareil_. Your acceptance of her from me _now_, and any other
hound of ye Grafton sort, that may come in near her size, will afford
me singular satisfaction; as I make it a rule that no man who shows
me civility shall find me wanting in making a proper return.
“I am, dear sir,
“Your obliged and very humble servant,
“G. FORESTER.
“P.S.—Next year Whymsy will be completely fit for entrance, but
rather too young for _this_. The Duke’s hounds rather run small
enough for this country. I see no other defect in them. They are
invincibly stout, and perfectly just in every point that constitutes
your real true fox hound.”
* * * * *
“WILLEY, April 19, 1795.
“DEAR SIR,
“Per bearer I send you yr couple of bitches I promised you. The
largest is near a year old, the lesser about half a one, and if she
be permitted to walk about your house this summer, will make you a
clever bitch; further, she’s of Grace Grafton’s kind, as her father
was got by his Grace’s Voucher, and bred by Mr. Pelham. Blood
undeniable, _at a certainty_. As to yr dam of her, she’s of my old
sort, and a bitch of blood and merit. The other bitch I bred also,
_to ye test_ of my judgment, from a dog of Pelham’s. I call her
handsome in my eye, and not far off _being a beauty_. Her dam was
got by Noel’s famous Maltster, out of a daughter of Mr. Corbet, of
Sundorn, named Trojan. I wish you luck and success with your hounds,
and when I can serve you _to effect_, at any time, you may rely on my
faithful remembrance of you.
“I remain, dear sir,
“Your very humble servant,
“G. FORESTER.
“P.S.—The largest bitch is named Musick, the lesser is named Gaudy.
“P.S.—We have had good sport lately; and _one particular_ run we had,
upon Monday last, of two hours and one quarter (from scent to view),
without one single interruption of any kind whatever.”
CHAPTER VIII.
THE WILLEY LONG RUNS.
The Willey Long Runs—Dibdin’s Fifty Miles no Figure of Speech—From the
Clee Hills to the Wrekin—The Squire’s Breakfast—Phœbe Higgs—Doggrel
Ditties—Old Tinker—Moody’s Horse falls Dead—Run by Moonlight.
“Ye that remember well old Savory’s call,
With pleasure view’d her, as she pleased you all;
In distant countries still her fame resounds,
The huntsmen’s glory and the pride of hounds.”
1773.
[Picture: Savory]
THE portrait at the head of this chapter is from a carefully drawn copy
of a painting at Willey of a favourite hound of the Squire’s, just a
hundred years ago.
Dibdin, in his song of Tom Moody, speaks of “a country well known to him
fifty miles round;” and this was no mere figure of speech, as the hunting
ground of the Willey Squire extended over the greater part of the forest
lands we have described. There were fewer packs of hounds in Shropshire
then, and the Squire had a clear field extending from the Clee Hills to
the Needle’s Eye on the Wrekin, through which, on one remarkable
occasion, the hounds are reported to have followed their fox. The Squire
sometimes went beyond these notable landmarks, the day never appearing to
be too long for him.
Four o’clock on a hunting morning usually found him preparing the inner
man with a breakfast of underdone beef, with eggs beaten up in brandy to
fill the interstices; and thus fortified he was ready for a fifty miles
run. He was what Nimrod would have called, “a good rough rider” over the
stiff Shropshire clays, and he generally managed to keep up with the best
to the last;
“Nicking and craning he deemed a crime,
And nobody rode harder perhaps in his time.”
He could scarcely “Top a flight of rails,” “Skim ridge and furrow,” or,
charge a fence, however, with Phœbe Higgs, who sometimes accompanied him.
Phœbe, who was a complete Diana, and would take hazardous leaps,
beckoning Mr. Forester to follow her extraordinary feats, led the Squire
to wager heavy sums that in leaping she would beat any woman in England.
With Phœbe and Moody, and a few choice spirits of the same stamp on a
scent, there was no telling to what point between the two extremities of
the Severn it might carry them. They might turn-up some few miles from
its source or its estuary, and not be heard of at Willey for a week. One
long persevering run into Radnorshire, in which a few plucky riders
continued the pace for some distance and then left the field to the
Squire and Moody, with one or two others, who kept the heads of their
favourites in the direction Reynard was leading, passed into a tradition;
but the brush appears not to have been fairly won, a gamekeeper having
sent a shot through the leg of the “varmint” as he saw him taking shelter
in a churchyard—an event commemorated in some doggrel lines still
current.
Very romantic tales are told of long runs by a superannuated servant of
the Foresters, old Simkiss, who had them from his father; but we forbear
troubling the reader with more than an outline of one of these, that of
Old Tinker. Old Tinker was the name of a fox, with more than the usual
cunning of his species, that had often proved more than a match for the
hounds; and one morning the Squire, having made up his mind for a run,
repaired to Tickwood, where this fox was put up. On hearing the dogs in
full cry the Squire vowed he would “Follow the devil this time to hell’s
doors but he would catch him.” Reynard, it appears, went off in the
direction of the Clee Hills; but took a turn, and made for Thatcher’s
Coppice; from there to the Titterstone Hill, and then back to Tickwood,
where the hounds again ousted him, and over the same ground again. On
arriving at the Brown Clee Hills the huntsman’s horse was so blown that
he took Moody’s, sending Tom with his own to the nearest inn to get
spiced ale and a feed. By this time the fox was on his way back, and the
horse on which Tom was seated no sooner heard the horn sounding than he
dashed away and joined in the chase. Ten couples of fresh hounds were
now set loose at the kennels in Willey Hollow, and these again turned the
fox in the direction of Aldenham, but all besides Moody were now far
behind, and his horse fell dead beneath him. The dogs, too, had had
enough; they refused to go further, and Old Tinker once more beat his
pursuers, but only to die in a drain on the Aldenham estate, where he was
found a week afterwards.
“A braver choice of dauntless spirits never
Dash’d after hound,”
it is said, and to commemorate one of the good things of this kind, a
long home-spun ditty was wont to be sung in public-houses by tenants on
the estate, the first few lines of which were as follows:—
“Salopians every one,
Of high and low degree,
Who take delight in fox-hunting,
Come listen unto me.
“A story true I’ll tell to you
Concerning of a fox,
How they hunted him on Tickwood side
O’er Benthall Edge and rocks.
“Says Reynard, ‘I’ll take you o’er to Willey Park
Above there, for when we fairly get aground
I value neither huntsmen all
Nor Squire Forester’s best hound.
“‘I know your dogs are stout and good,
That they’ll run me like the wind!
But I’ll tread lightly on the land,
And leave no scent behind.’”
Other verses describe the hunt, and Reynard, on being run to earth,
asking for quarter on condition that
“He will both promise and fulfil,
Neither ducks nor geese to kill,
Nor lambs upon the hill;”
and how bold Ranter, with little faith in his promise, “seized him by the
neck and refused to let him go.” It is one of many specimens of a like
kind still current among old people. An old man, speaking of Mr. Stubbs,
for whom, he remarked, the day was never too long, and who at its close
would sometimes urge his brother sportsmen to draw for a fresh fox, with
the reminder that there was a moon to kill by, said,
“One of the rummiest things my father, who hunted with the Squire,
told me, was a run by moonlight. I’m not sure, but I think Mr.
Dansey, Mr. Childe, and Mr. Stubbs, if not Mr. Meynell, were at the
Hall. They came sometimes, and sometimes the Squire visited them.
Howsomeever, there were three or four couples of fresh hounds at the
kennels, and it was proposed to have an after-dinner run. They dined
early, and, as nigh as I can tell, it was three o’clock when they
left the Hall, after the Beggarlybrook fox. Mind that was a fox,
that was—he was. He was a dark brown one, and a cunning beggar too,
that always got off at the edge of a wood, by running first along a
wall and then leaping part of the way down an old coal pit, which had
run in at the sides. Well, they placed three couples of hounds near
to this place in readiness, and the hark-in having been given, the
gorse soon began to shake, and a hound or two were seen outside, and
amongst them old Pilot, who now and then took a turn outside, and
turned in, lashing his stern, and giving the right token. ‘Have at
him!’ shouted one; ‘Get ready!’ said another; ‘Hold hard a bit, we
shall have him, for a hundred!’ shouted the Squire. Then comes a
tally-ho, said my father, and off they go; every hound out of cover,
sterns up, carrying a beautiful head, and horses all in a straight
line along the open, with the scent breast high. Reynard making
straight for the tongue of the coppice, finds himself circumvented,
and fresh hounds being let loose, he makes for Wenlock Walton as
though he was going to give ’em an airing on the hill-top.
“‘But, headed and foiled, his first point he forsook,
And merrily led them a dance o’er the brook.’
“Some lime burners coming from work turned him, and, leaving Wenlock
on the left, he made for Tickwood. It was now getting dark, and the
ground being awkward, one or two were down. The Squire swore he
would have the varmint out of Tickwood; and the hounds working well,
and old Trumpeter’s tongue being heard on the lower side, one
challenged the other, and they soon got into line in the hollow, the
fox leading. Stragglers got to the scent, and off they went by the
burnt houses, where the Squire’s horse rolled over into a sand-pit.
The fox made for the Severn, but turned in the direction of Buildwas,
and was run into in the moonlight, among the ivied ruins of the
Abbey.”
[Picture: Buildwas Abbey]
CHAPTER IX.
BACHELOR’S HALL.
Its quaint Interior—An Old Friend’s Memory—Crabbe’s Peter at Ilford
Hall—Singular Time-pieces—A Meet at Hangster’s Gate—Jolly Doings—Dibdin
at Dinner—Broseley Pipes—Parson Stephens in his Shirt—The Parson’s Song.
WE have already described the exterior of the Hall and its approaches.
In the interior of the building the same air of antiquity reigned. Its
capacious chimney-pieces, and rooms wainscoted with oak to the ceiling,
are familiar from the descriptions of an old friend, whose memory was
still fresh and green as regards events and scenes of the time when the
Hall stood entire, and who when a boy was not an unfrequent visitor.
Like Crabbe’s Peter among the rooms and galleries of Ilford Hall,
“His vast delight was mixed with equal awe,
There was such magic in the things he saw;
Portraits he passed, admiring, but with pain
Turned from some objects, nor would look again.”
Against the walls were grim old portraits of the Squire’s predecessors of
the Weld and Forester lines, with stiff-starched frills, large vests, and
small round hats of Henry VII.’s time; others of the fashions of earlier
periods by distinguished painters, together with later productions of the
pencil by less famous artists, representing dogs, cattle, and favourite
horses. In the great hall were horns and antlers, and other trophies of
the chase, ancient guns which had done good execution in their time, a
bustard, and rare species of birds of a like kind. Here and there were
ancient time-pieces, singular in construction and quaint in contrivance,
one of which, on striking the hours of noon and midnight, set in motion
figures with trumpets and various other instruments, which gave forth
their appropriate sounds. A great lamp—hoisted to its place by a thick
rope—lighted up that portion of the hall into which opened the doors of
the dining and other rooms, and from which a staircase led to the
gallery.
A meet in the neighbourhood of Willey was usually well attended: first,
because of the certainty of good sport; secondly, because such sport was
often preceded, or often followed by receptions at the Hall, so famous
for its cheer. Jolly were the doings on these occasions; songs were
sung, racy tales were told, old October ale flowed freely, and the jovial
merits and household virtues of Willey were fully up to the mark of the
good old times. The Squire usually dined about four o’clock, and his
guests occasionally came booted and spurred, ready for the hunt the
following day, and rarely left the festive board ’neath the hospitable
roof of the Squire until they mounted their coursers in the court-yard.
Dibdin, from materials gathered on the spot, has, in his own happy
manner, drawn representations of these gatherings. His portraits of
horses and dogs, and his description of the social habits of the Squire
and his friends are faithfully set forth in his song of “Bachelor’s
Hall:”—
“To Bachelor’s Hall we good fellows invite
To partake of the chase which makes up our delight,
We’ve spirits like fire, and of health such a stock,
That our pulse strikes the seconds as true as a clock.
Did you see us you’d swear that we mount with a grace,
That Diana had dubb’d some new gods of the chase.
Hark away! hark away! all nature looks gay,
And Aurora with smiles ushers in the bright day.
“Dick Thickset came mounted upon a fine black,
A finer fleet gelding ne’er hunter did back;
Tom Trig rode a bay full of mettle and bone,
And gaily Bob Buckson rode on a roan;
But the horse of all horses that rivalled the day
Was the Squire’s Neck-or-Nothing, and that was a grey.
Hark away! &c.
“Then for hounds there was Nimble who well would climb rocks,
And Cocknose a good one at finding a fox;
Little Plunge, like a mole, who would ferret and search,
And beetle-brow’d Hawk’s Eye so dead at a lurch:
Young Sly-looks that scents the strong breeze from the south,
And Musical Echo with his deep mouth.
Hark away! &c.
“Our horses, thus all of the very best blood,
’Tis not likely you’d easily find such a stud;
Then for foxhounds, our opinion for thousands we’ll back,
That all England throughout can’t produce such a pack.
Thus having described you our dogs, horses, and crew,
Away we set off, for our fox is in view.
Hark away! &c.
“Sly Reynard’s brought home, while the horn sounds the call,
And now you’re all welcome to Bachelor’s Hall;
The savoury sirloin gracefully smokes on the board,
And Bacchus pours wine from his sacred hoard.
Come on, then, do honour to this jovial place,
And enjoy the sweet pleasures that have sprung from the chase.
Hark away! hark away! while our spirits are gay,
Let us drink to the joys of next meeting day.”
On the occasion of Dibdin’s visit there were at the Hall more than the
usual local notables, and Parson Stephens was amongst them. As a treat
intended specially for Dibdin, the second course at dinner consisted of
Severn fish, such as we no longer have in the river. There were eels
cooked in various ways, flounders, perch, trout, carp, grayling, pike,
and at the head of the table that king of Severn fish, a salmon.
_Dibdin_: “This is a treat, Squire, and I can readily understand now why
the Severn should be called the ‘Queen of Rivers;’ it certainly deserves
the distinction for its fish, if for nothing else.”
_Mr. Forester_: “Do you know, Dibdin, that fellow Jessop, the engineer,
set on by those Gloucester fellows, wants to put thirteen or fourteen
bars or weirs in the river between here and Gloucester; why, it would
shut out every fish worth eating.”
“What could be his object?” asked Dibdin.
“Oh, he believes, like Brindley, that rivers were made to feed canals
with, and his backers—the Gloucester gentlemen, and the Stafford and
Worcester Canal Company—say, to make the river navigable at all seasons
up to Coalbrookdale; but my belief is that it is intended to crush what
bit of trade there yet remains on the river here, and to give them a
monopoly in the carrying trade, for our bargemen would be taxed, whilst
their carriers would be free, or nearly so.”
“We beat them, though,” said Mr. Pritchard.
“So we did,” added the Squire, “but we had a hard job: begad, I thought
our watermen had pretty well primed me when I went up to see Pitt on the
subject; but I had not been with him five minutes before I found he knew
far more about the river than I did:
“‘I am no orator, as Brutus is,
But, as you know me all, a plain and honest man.’”
_Several voices_: “Bravo, Squire.”
_To Stephens_: “Will you take a flounder?—‘flat as a flounder,’ they say.
I know you have a sympathy with flats, if not a liking for them.”
“The Broseley colliers made a flat of him when they dragged his own pond
for the fish he was so grateful for,” said Hinton.
The laugh went against the parson, who somehow missed his share of a
venison pasty, which was a favourite of his. He had been helped to a
slice from a haunch which stood in the centre of the table, and had had a
cut out of a saddle of mutton at one end, but he missed his favourite
dish.
“Is it true,” inquired Dibdin, looking round at roast, and boiled, and
pasties, “what we hear in London, that there is very considerable
_scarcity_ and _distress_ in the country?”—(general laughter). This
brought up questions of political economy, excess of population,
stock-jobbing, usury, gentlemen taking their money out of the country and
aping Frenchified, stick-frog fashions on their return. The latter was a
favourite subject with the Squire, who could not see, he said, what
amusement a gentleman could find out of the country equal to foxhunting,
and gave him an opportunity of introducing his favourite theory of taxing
heavily those who did so. The discussion had lasted over the fifth
course, when more potent liquors were put upon the table, together with
Broseley pipes. The production of the latter was a temptation Stephens
could not resist of telling the story of the Squire purchasing a box, for
which he paid a high price, in London, and finding, on showing them to
one of his tenants, as models, that they were made upon his own estate.
The laugh went against the Squire, who gave indication, by a merry
twinkle in his eye, that he would take an opportunity of being quits.
Discussions ensued upon the virtues and evils of tobacco, and the refusal
of Parliament to allow a census to be taken; one of the guests expressing
a belief, founded upon a statement put forth by a Dr. Price, that the
population of England and Wales was under five millions, or less, in
fact, than it was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. “Which,” added the
Squire, “is not correct, according to poor-law and other statistics
produced before Parliament, which show that there are from three to four
births to one death.”
_Mr. Whitmore_: “I can readily believe that this is true in your parishes
of Willey and Barrow, Forester, where a certain person’s amours, like
Jupiter’s, are too numerous to mention.” (Laughter, in which the Squire
joined.)
_Mr. Forester_: “A truce to statistics and politics, let us have Larry
Palmer, our local Incledon, in to sing us some of Dibdin’s songs.”
(General approbation.)
And Larry, who was blind, and who was purposely kept in ignorance of
Dibdin being present, then gave in succession several of what Incledon
called his “sheet-anchors,” including “The Quaker,” “My Trim-built
Wherry,” “Tom Bowling,” &c., with an effect and force which made the
author exclaim that he never heard greater justice done to his
compositions, and led to an exhibition of feeling which made the old hall
ring again.
Dibdin’s health was next given, with high eulogiums as to the effect of
his animating effusions on the loyalty, valour, and patriotism which at
that time blazed so intensely in the bosom of the British tar.
Dibdin, in acknowledging the toast, related incidents he had himself
several times witnessed at sea; and how deeply indebted he felt to men
like Incledon and others, adding that the inspiration which moved him was
strongly in his mind from his earliest remembrance. It lay, he said, a
quiet hidden spark which, for a time, found nothing hard enough to vivify
it; but which, coming in contact with proper materials, expanded.
“Tell Dibdin of Old Tinker,” cried Childe, of Kinlet.
The tale of Old Tinker was given, the last bit of court scandal
discussed, and some tales told of the King, with whom Mr. Forester was on
terms of friendship, and the festivities of the evening had extended into
the small hours of the morning, when, during a brief pause in the general
mirth, a tremendous crash was heard, and the Squire rushing out to see
what was the matter, met one of the servants, who said the sound came
from the larder, whither Mr. Forester repaired. Looking in, he saw
Stephens _in his shirt_, and, with presence of mind, he turned the key,
and went back to his company to consider how he should turn the incident
to account.
It appears that Stephens had been several hours in bed, when, waking up
from his first sleep, he fancied he should like a dip into the venison
pie, and forthwith had gone down into the larder, where, in searching for
the pie, he knocked down the dish, with one or two more. The Squire was
not long in making up his mind how he should turn the matter to account;
he declared that it was time to retire, but before doing so, he said,
they must have a country dance, and insisted upon the whole household
being roused to take part in it. There was no resisting the wishes of
the host; the whole of the house assembled, and formed sides for a dance
in the hall, through which Stephens must necessarily pass in going to his
room. Whilst this was taking place Mr. Forester slipped the key into the
door, and going behind Stephens, unkennelled his fox, making the parson
run the gauntlet, in his shirt, amid an indescribable scene of merriment
and confusion!
The very Rev. Dr. Stephens had paid for his nocturnal escapade, one would
have thought, sufficiently to satisfy the most exacting. But the Squire
and his guests, just ripe for fun, insisted that he should dress and come
down into the dining-room to finish the night. The further penalty, too,
was inflicted of making him join in the chorus of the old song, sung with
boundless approbation by one of the company, beginning—
“A parson once had a remarkable foible
Of loving good liquor far more than his Bible;
His neighbours all said he was much less perplext
In handling a tankard than in handling a text.
Derry down, down, down, derry down.”
The gist of which lies in the parson’s reply to his wife, who, when the
pigs set his ale running, and he stormed and swore, reminded him of his
laudation of the patience of Job, whereupon he denies the application,
with the remark—
“Job never had such a cask in his life.”
“The hunting in the Cheviot,”
now called “Chevy Chase,” succeeded, and the night closed with Dibdin
singing his last new song, to music of his own composing, with a jolly,
rollicking chorus by the whole company.
CHAPTER X.
THE WILLEY RECTOR, AND OTHER OF THE SQUIRE’S FRIENDS.
The Squire’s Friends and the Willey Rector more fully
drawn—Turner—Wilkinson—Harris—The Rev. Michael Pye Stephens—His
Relationship to the Squire—In the Commission of the Peace—The Parson and
the Poacher—A Fox-hunting Christening.
BESIDES professional sportsmen who were wont to make the Willey
roof-trees echo with their shouts, the Squire usually assembled round his
table, on Sundays, the leading men of the neighbourhood, each of some
special note or importance in his own district, who formed at Willey a
sort of local parliament. Among these were brother magistrates, tenants,
and members of the clerical, legal, and medical professions. Thomas
Turner, a county magistrate, and the chairman of a court of equity, to
establish which the Squire assisted him in obtaining an Act of
Parliament, to whom was dedicated a sermon delivered before the justices
of the peace by the Rev. L. Booker, LL.D., was one of these. Mr. Turner
carried on the now famous Caughley works, where he succeeded in
producing, by means of English and French workmen, china of superior
merit, which, like the old Wedgwood productions, is now highly prized by
connoisseurs. He was the first producer of the “willow pattern,” still
so much in demand, and his general knowledge gave him great influence.
The Squire paid occasional visits to his elegant chateau at Caughley, and
gave him one of the two portraits of himself which he had painted, a
picture now in possession of the widow of Mr. Turner’s son, George, of
Scarborough, in which the Squire is represented—as in our engraving—in
his scarlet hunting coat, with a fox’s brush in his hand—a facsimile of
the one from which our woodcut is taken. Another, but only an occasional
visitor at the Hall, was John Wilkinson, “the Father of the Iron Trade,”
as he is now called, who then lived at Broseley, and who was one of the
most remarkable men of the past century. He was for some years a tenant
of the Squire, and carried on the Willey furnaces. He was also a friend
of Boulton and Watt, and was the first who succeeded in boring their
cylinders even all through; he was the first, too, who taught the French
the art of boring cannon from the solid. He built and launched at Willey
Wharf the first iron barge—the precursor of all iron vessels on the
Thames and Tyne, and of the Great Eastern, as well as of our modern
iron-clads. Mr. Harries of Benthall, Mr. Hinton of Wenlock, Mr. Bryan of
The Tuckies, and Mr. John Cox Morris, farmer of Willey, who took the
first silver cup given by the Agricultural Society of Shropshire for the
best cultivated farm, and who had still further distinguished himself in
the estimation of sportsmen by a remarkable feat of horsemanship for a
large amount, were among those who visited the Squire.
But a more frequent guest at the Hall and at the covert-side was the
Willey Rector, the Rev. Michael Pye Stephens, whose family was related to
that of the Welds, through the Slaneys. The Rector was therefore, as
already shown, on familiar terms with the Squire, and the more so as he
was able to tell a good tale and sing a good song. The rural clergy a
century ago were great acquisitions at the tables of country squires, and
were not unfrequently among the most enthusiastic lovers of the chase.
It was by no means an uncommon thing, forty years ago, to see the horse
of the late Rector of Stockton, brother to the Squire of Apley, waiting
for him at the church door at Bonnigale, which living he also held, that
he might start immediately service was over for Melton Mowbray. His
clerk, too, old Littlehales, who to more secular professions added that
of village tailor, has often told how his master, being sorely in need of
a pair of hunting breeches for Melton, undertook to close the church one
Sunday in order to give him the opportunity of making them, with the
remark, “Oh, d—n the church, you stop at home and make the breeches.”
But the Rector of Willey was by no means so enthusiastic as a sportsman.
He was not the
“Clerical fop, half jockey and half clerk,
The tandem-driving Tommy of a town,
Disclaiming book, omniscient of a horse,
Impatient till September comes again,
Eloquent only of the pretty girl
With whom he danced last night!”
Neither did he resemble those more bilious members of the profession of
modern times—
“Who spit their puny spite on harmless recreation.”
On the contrary, he held what it may be difficult to gainsay, that
amusements calculated to strengthen the frame and to improve the health,
if fitting for a gentleman, were not unfitting for a clergyman. His
presence, at any rate, was welcomed by neighbouring squires in the field,
as “Hark in! Hark in! Hark! Yoi over boys!” sounded merrily on the
morning air; and as he sat mounted on the Squire’s thorough-bred it would
have been difficult to have detected anything of the divine; the
clerico-waistcoat and black single-breasted outer garment having given
place to more fitting garb. Fond of field sports himself, he willingly
associated with his neighbours and joined in their pastimes and
amusements. A man who was a frequent guest at the Hall, who received
letters from the Squire when in London, and who would take a long pipe
now and then between his lips, and moisten his clay from a pewter tankard
round a clean-scoured table in a road-side inn, was naturally of
considerable importance in his own immediate district.
The Rector of Willey had, we believe, been brought up to the legal
profession, he had also a smattering knowledge of medicine, which enabled
him to render at times service to his parishioners, who called him Dr.
Stephens. He was in the commission of the peace, too, for the borough;
and so completely did the characters combine—so perfectly did law and
divinity dove-tail into each other—that he might have been taken as a
personification of either.
“Mild were his doctrines, and not one discourse
But gained in softness what it lost in force.”
Without stinginess he partook of the good things heaven to man supplies;
he was “full fed;” his face shone with good-humour, and he was as fond of
a joke as of the Squire’s old port. As a justice of the peace he was no
regarder of persons, providing they equally brought grist to his mill; he
had no objection to litigants smoothing the way to a decision by
presents, such as a piece of pork, a pork pie, or a dish of fish; once or
twice, however, he found the fish to have been caught the previous night
out of his own pond. Next to a weakness for fish was one for
knee-breeches and top-boots, which in the course of much riding required
frequent renewal; and, ’tis said, that seated in his judicial chair, he
has had the satisfaction of seeing a pair of new chalked tops projecting
alike from plaintiff’s and defendant’s pockets. In which case, with
spectacles raised and head thrown back, as though to look above the petty
details of the plaint, after sundry hums and haws, with inquiries after
the crops between, and each one telling some news about his neighbour, he
would find the evidence on both sides equally balanced and suggest a
compromise! A good tale is told of the justice wanting a hare for a
friend, and employing a notorious poacher to procure one. The man
brought it in a bag. “You’ve brought a hare, then?” “I have, Mr.
Stephens, and a fine one too,” replied the other, as he turned it out,
puss flying round the room, and over the table amongst the papers like a
mad thing. “Kill her! kill her!” shouted Stephens. “No, by G—,” replied
the poacher, who knew that by doing so he would bring himself within the
law, “you kill her; I’ve had enough trouble to catch her.” After two or
three runs the justice succeeded in hitting her on the head with a ruler,
and thus brought himself within the power of the poacher.
The parson was sometimes out of temper, and then he swore, but this was
not often; still his friends were wont to joke him on the following
domestic little incident:—His services were suddenly in demand on one
occasion when, a full clerical costume being required, he found his bands
not ready, and he set to work to iron them himself. He was going on
swimmingly as he thought, and had only left the iron to go to the bottom
of the stairs, with a “D—n you, madam,” to his wife, who had not yet come
down; “d—n you, I can do without you,” when, on returning, he found his
bands scorched and discoloured.
A foxhunter’s christening in which the Willey Rector played a part on one
occasion is too good to lose. He was the guest of Squire B—t, a
well-known foxhunter, who at one time hunted the Shifnal country with his
own hounds. A very jovial company from that side had assembled, and it
was determined to celebrate a new arrival in the Squire’s family, and to
take advantage of the presence of the parson to christen the little
stranger. The thing was soon settled, and Stephens proceeded in due form
with the ceremony necessary to give to the fair-haired innocent a name by
which it should be known to the world. The conversation of the company
had of course been upon their favourite sport, a good many bottles of
fine sherry and crusty old port had been drunk, and under their
influence, it was settled that one of the company should give the child a
name in which it should be baptized, let it be what it would. Stephens
having taken the child in his hands, in due form asked the name; it was
given immediately as Foxhunting Moll B—t! With this name the little
innocent grew up, and finally became the wife of Squire H—s; with this
name she of course signed all legal documents—first, as Foxhunting Moll
B—t, and, secondly, as Foxhunting Moll H—s.
CHAPTER, XI.
THE WILLEY WHIPPER-IN.
The Willey Whipper-in—Tom’s Start in Life—His Pluck and Perseverance—Up
Hill and down Dale—Adventures with the Buff-coloured Chaise—His own Wild
Favourite—His Drinking-horn—Who-who-hoop—Good Temper—Never
Married—Hangster’s Gate—Old Coaches—Tom Gone to Earth—Three View Halloos
at the Grave—Old Boots.
* * * * *
“The huntsman’s self relented to a grin,
And rated him almost a whipper-in.”
[Picture: Moody’s Horn, Trencher, Cap, Saddle, &c.]
TOM MOODY never rose above his post of whipper-in, but he had the honour
of being at the top of his profession; and before proceeding further with
our sketch of Squire Forester it may be well to dwell for a time upon
this well-known character, whom Dibdin immortalised in his song, so
familiar to all sportsmen. He was in fact, in many respects, what Mr.
Forester had made him: Nature supplied the material, and Squire Forester
did the rest. Tom had the advantage of entering the Squire’s service
when a youth. Like most boys of that period, he had been thrown a good
deal upon his own resources, a state of things not unfavourable to a
development of self-reliance, and a degree of humble heroism, such as
made life wholesome. Tom had no opportunities of obtaining a
national-school education, nor of carrying away the prize now sometimes
awarded to the best behaved lad in the village. But in the unorganized
school of common intercourse, common suffering, and interest, was
developed a pluck and daring which led him to perform a feat on the bare
back of a crop-eared cob that gave birth to the after events of his life.
It appears that he was apprenticed to a Mr. Adams, a maltster, who had
sent him to deliver malt at the Hall. On his return he was seen by the
Squire trying his horse at a gate, and repeating the attempt till he
compelled him to leap it. It is said that—
“He who excels in what we prize,
Appears a hero in our eyes.”
[Picture: Gone to earth]
And Squire Forester, struck by his pluck and perseverance, made up his
mind to secure him. He sent to his master to ask if he were willing to
give him up, adding that he would like to see him at the Hall. The
message alarmed the mother, who was a widow, for, knowing her son’s
froward nature, she at once imagined Tom had got into trouble. On
learning the true state of the case, however, and thinking she saw the
way open to Tom’s promotion, she consented to the change in his
condition. His master, too, agreed to give him up, and Tom was
transferred to the Willey stables, where, from his good nature and other
agreeable qualities, he became a favourite, and from his daring courage
quite a sort of little hero. It was Tom’s duty to go on errands from the
Hall, and once outside the park, feeling he had his liberty, he did not
fail to make use of opportunities for displaying his skill. In riding,
it was generally up hill and down dale, at neck-or-nothing speed,
stopping neither for gate nor hedge—his horse tearing away at a rate
which would have given him three or four somersaults at a slip. He
seldom turned his horse’s head if he could help it, and if he went down
he was soon up again. Extraordinary tales are told of Tom’s adventures
with the Squire’s buff-coloured chaise, in taking company from the Hall,
and in fetching visitors from Shifnal, then the nearest place to reach a
coach. Having a spite at a pike-keeper, who offended him by not opening
the gate quick enough, “Tom tanselled his hide,” and resolved the next
time he went that way not to trouble him. Driving up to the gate, he
gave a spring, and touching his horse on the flanks, went straight over
without starting a stitch or breaking a buckle. On another occasion he
tried the same trick, but failed; the horse went clean over, but the gig
caught the top rail, and Tom was thrown on his back. “That just sarves
yo right,” said the pike-keeper. “So it does, and now we are quits,”
added Tom; and they were friends ever after. This, however, did not
prevent Tom trying it again; not that he wanted to defraud the pike-man,
whom he generally paid another time, but for “the fun of the thing.”
Indeed, with his old wild favourite, with or without the buff-coloured
gig, there were no risks he was not prepared to run. “Ay, ay, sir,” said
one of our aged informants, “you should have seen him on his horse, a
mad, wild animal no one but Tom could ride. He could ride him though,
with his eyes shut, savage as he was, and on a good road he would pass
milestones as the clock measured minutes; but give him the green meadows,
and Lord how I have seen him whip along the turf!” “He was like a winged
Mercury, making light both of stone walls and five-feet six-inch gates.
He was a regular centaur, for he and his horse seemed one,” said another.
“I cannot tell you the height of his horse,” said a third, “but he was a
big un; whilst Tom himself was a little one, and he used to be on
horse-back all day long. If he got into the saddle in a morning he
rarely left it till night.”
In giving the qualifications necessary for one aspiring to the post of
whipper-in, a well-known authority on sporting subjects has laid it down
that he should be light (not too young), with a quick eye and still
quicker ear, and that he should be—what in fact he generally is—fond of
the sport, or he seldom succeeds in his profession. Now Moody, or Muddy,
as his name was pronounced, answered to these conditions.
“His conversation had no other course
Than that presented to his simple view
Of what concerned his saddle, groom, or horse;
Beyond this theme he little cared or knew:
Tell him of beauty and harmonious sounds,
He’d show his mare, and talk about his hounds.”
He was what was called _Foxy_ all over—in his language, dress, and
associations. He wore a pin with a knob, something smaller than a
tea-saucer, of Caughley china, with the head of a fox upon it; and
everything nearest his person, so far as he could manage it, had
something to put him in mind of his favourite sport. His bed-room walls
were hung with sporting prints, and on his mantelpiece were more
substantial trophies of the hunt—as the brush of some remarkable victim
of the pack, his boots and spurs, &c. His famous drinking-horn, which we
have engraved together with his trencher in the trophy at the head of
this chapter, was equally embellished with a representation of a hunt,
very elaborately carved with the point of a pen-knife. At the top is a
wind-mill, and below a number of horsemen and a lady, well mounted, in
full chase, and with hounds in full cry after a fox, which is seen on the
lower part of the horn. A fox’s brush forms the finis. The date upon
the horn, which in size and shape resembles those in use in the mansions
of the gentry in past centuries when hospitality was dispensed in their
halls with such a free and generous hand, is 1663. It is a relic still
treasured by members of the Wheatland Hunt, who look back to the time
when the shrill voice of Moody cheered the pack over the heavy
Wheatlands; and together with his cap, of which we also give a
representation, is often made to do duty at annual social gatherings.
Tom was a small eight or nine stone man, with roundish face, marked with
small pox, and a pair of eyes that twinkled with good humour. He
possessed great strength as well as courage and resolution, and displayed
an equanimity of temper which made him many friends. The huntsman was
John Sewell, and under him he performed his duties in a way so
satisfactory to his master and all who hunted with him, as to be deemed
the best whipper-in in England. None, it was said, could bring up the
tail end of a pack, or sustain the burst of a long chase, and be in at
the death with every hound well up, like Tom. His plan was to allow his
hounds their own cast without lifting, unless they showed wildness; and
if young hounds dwelt on a stale drag behind the pack he whipped them on
to those on the right line. He never aspired to be more than “a
serving-man;” he wished, however, to be considered “a good whipper-in,”
and his fame as such spread through the country. There was not a spark
of envy in his composition, and he was one of the happiest fellows in the
universe. The lessons he seemed to have learnt, and which appeared to
have sunk deepest into his unsophisticated nature, were those of being
honest and of ordering himself “lowly and reverently towards his
betters,” for whom he had a reverence which grew profound if they
happened to have added to their qualifications of being good sportsmen
that of being “_Parliament_ men.”
Tom’s voice was something extraordinary, and on one occasion when he had
fallen into an old pit shaft, which had given way on the sides, and could
not get out, it saved him. His halloo to the dogs brought him
assistance, and he was extricated. It was capable of wonderful
modulations, and to hear him rehearse the sports of the day in the big
roomy servants’ kitchen at the Hall, and give his tally-ho, or
who-who-hoop, was considered a treat. On one occasion, when Tom was in
better trim than usual, the old housekeeper is said to have remarked,
“La! Tom, you have given the who-who-hoop, as you call it, so very loud
and strong to-day that you have set the cups and saucers a dancing;” to
which a gentleman, who had purposely placed himself within hearing,
replied, “I am not at all surprised—his voice is music itself. I am
astonished and delighted, and hardly know how to praise it enough. I
never heard anything so attractive and inspiring before in the whole
course of my life; its tones are as fine and mellow as a French horn.”
When Squire Forester gave up hunting, the hounds went to Aldenham, as
trencher hounds; the farmers of the district agreeing to keep them. They
were collected the night before the hunt, fed after a day’s sport, and
dismissed at a crack of the whip, each dog going off to the farm at which
he was kept. But it was a great trial to Tom to see them depart; and he
begged to be allowed to keep an old favourite, with which he might often
have been seen sunning himself in the yard. He continued with his master
from first to last, with the exception of the short time he lived with
Mr. Corbet, when the Sundorne roof-trees were wont to ring to the toast
of “Old Trojan,” and when the elder Sebright was his fellow-whip.
Like the old Squire, Tom never married, although, like his master, he had
a leaning towards the softer sex, and spent much of his time in the
company of his lady friends. One he made his banker, and the presents
made to him might have amounted to something considerable if he had taken
care of them. In lodging them in safe keeping he usually begged that
they might be let out to him a shilling a time; but he made so many calls
and pleaded so earnestly and availingly for more, and was so constant a
visitor at Hangster’s Gate, that the stock never was very large. Indeed
he was on familiar terms with “Chalk Farm,” as the score behind the
ale-house door was termed; still he never liked getting into debt, and it
was always a relief to his mind to see the sponge applied to the score.
Tom was a great gun at this little way-side inn, which was altogether a
primitive institution of the kind even at that period, but which was
afterwards swept away when the present Hall was built. It then stood on
the old road from Bridgnorth to Wenlock, which came winding past the
Hall; and in the old coaching days was a well-known hostelry and a
favourite tippling shop for local notables, among whom were old Scale,
the Barrow schoolmaster and parish clerk; the Cartwrights and Crumps, of
Broseley; and a few local farmers. One attraction was the old coach,
which called there and brought newspapers, and still later news in
troubled times when battles, sieges, and the movements of armies were the
chief topics of conversation. Neither coachmen nor travellers ever
appeared to hurry, but would wait to communicate the news, particularly
in the pig killing season, when a pork pie and a jug of ale would be
sufficient to keep the coach a good half hour if need be. We speak of
course of “The time when George III. was king,” before “His Majesty’s
Mail” became an important institution, and when one old man in a scarlet
coat, with a face that lost nothing by reflection therewith—excepting
that a slight tinge of purple was visible—who had many more calling
places than post offices on the road, carried pistols in his holsters,
and brought all the letters and newspapers Willey, Wenlock, Broseley,
Benthall, Ironbridge, Coalbrookdale, and some other places then required;
and these, even, took the whole day to distribute. Although the
lumbering old vehicle was constantly tumbling over on going down slight
declivities, it was a great institution of the period; it was—
“Hurrah for the old stage coach,
Be it never so worn and rusty!
Hurrah for the smooth high road,
Be it glaring, and scorching, and dusty!
“Hurrah for the snug little inn,
At the sign of the Plough and Harrow,
And the frothy juice of the dangling hop,
That tickles your spinal marrow.”
It was a great treat to travellers, who would sometimes get off the coach
and order a chaise to be sent for them from Bridgnorth or Wenlock, to
stop and listen to Tom relating the incidents of a day’s sport, and a
still greater treat to witness his acting, to hear his tally-ho, his
who-who-hoop, or to hear him strike up—
“A southerly wind and a cloudy sky
Proclaim a hunting morning.”
Another favourite country song just then was the following, which has
been attributed to Bishop Still, called—
THE JUG OF ALE.
“As I was sitting one afternoon
Of a pleasant day in the month of June,
I heard a thrush sing down the vale,
And the tune he sang was ‘the jug of ale,’
And the tune he sang was the jug of ale.
“The white sheet bleaches on the hedge,
And it sets my wisdom teeth on edge,
When dry with telling your pedlar’s tale,
Your only comfort’s a jug of ale,
Your only comfort’s a jug of ale.
“I jog along the footpath way,
For a merry heart goes all the day;
But at night, whoever may flout and rail,
I sit down with my friend, the jug of ale,
With my good old friend, the jug of ale.
“Whether the sweet or sour of the year,
I tramp and tramp though the gallows be near.
Oh, while I’ve a shilling I will not fail
To drown my cares in a jug of ale,
Drown my cares in a jug of ale!”
To which old Amen, as the parish clerk was called, in order to be
orthodox, would add from the same convivial prelate’s farce-comedy of
“Gammer Gurton’s Needle:”—
“I cannot eat but little meat
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.”
A pleasant cheerful glass or two, Tom was wont to say, would hurt nobody,
and he could toss off a horn or two of “October” without moving a muscle
or winking an eye. His constitution was as sound as a roach; and whilst
he could get up early and sniff the fragrant gale, they did not appear to
tell. But he had a spark in his throat, as he said, and he indulged in
such frequent libations to extinguish it, that, towards the end of the
year 1796, he was well nigh worn out. After a while, finding himself
becoming weak, and feeling that his end was approaching, he expressed a
desire to see his old master, who at once gratified the wish of the
sufferer, and, without thinking that his end was so near, inquired what
he wanted. “I have,” said Tom, “one request to make, and it is the last
favour I shall crave.” “Well,” said the Squire, “what is it, Tom?” “My
time here won’t be long,” Tom added; “and when I am dead I wish to be
buried at Barrow, under the yew tree, in the churchyard there, and to be
carried to the grave by six earth-stoppers; my old horse, with my whip,
boots, spurs, and cap, slung on each side of the saddle, and the brush of
the last fox when I was up at the death, at the side of the forelock, and
two couples of old hounds to follow me to the grave as mourners. When I
am laid in the grave let three halloos be given over me; and then, if I
don’t lift up my head, you may fairly conclude that Tom Moody’s dead.”
The old whipper-in expired shortly afterwards, and his request was
carried out to the letter, as the following characteristic letter from
the Squire to his friend Chambers, describing the circumstances, will
show:—
“DEAR CHAMBERS,
“On Tuesday last died poor Tom Moody, as good for rough and smooth as
ever entered Wildmans Wood. He died brave and honest, as he
lived—beloved by all, hated by none that ever knew him. I took his
own orders as to his will, funeral, and every other thing that could
be thought of. He died sensible and fully collected as ever man
died—in short, died game to the last; for when he could hardly
swallow, the poor old lad took the farewell glass for success to
fox-bunting, and his poor old master (as he termed it), for ever. I
am sole executor, and the bulk of his fortune he left to
me—six-and-twenty shillings, real and _bonâ fide_ sterling cash, free
from all incumbrance, after every debt discharged to a farthing.
Noble deeds for Tom, you’d say. The poor old ladies at the Ring of
Bells are to have a knot each in remembrance of the poor old lad.
“Salop paper will show the whole ceremony of his burial, but for fear
you should not see that paper, I send it to you, as under:—
“‘Sportsmen, attend.—On Tuesday, 29th inst., was buried at Barrow,
near Wenlock, Salop, Thomas Moody, the well-known whipper-in to G.
Forester, Esq.’s fox-hounds for twenty years. He was carried to the
grave by a proper number of earth-stoppers, and attended by many
other sporting friends, who heartily mourned for him.’
“Directly after the corpse followed his old favourite horse (which he
always called his ‘Old Soul’), thus accoutred: carrying his last
fox’s brush in the front of his bridle, with his cap, whip, boots,
spurs, and girdle, across his saddle. The ceremony being over, he
(by his own desire), had three clear rattling view haloos o’er his
grave; and thus ended the career of poor Tom, who lived and died an
honest fellow, but alas! a very wet one.
“I hope you and your family are well, and you’ll believe me, much
yours,
“G. FORESTER.
“WILLEY, Dec. 5, 1796.”
We need add nothing to the description the Squire gave of the way in
which Tom’s last wishes were carried out, and shall merely remark that
the old fellow kept on his livery to the last, and that he died in his
boots, which were for some time kept as relics—a circumstance which leads
us to appropriate the following lines, which appeared a few years ago in
the _Sporting Magazine_:—
“You have ofttimes indulged in a sneer
At the old pair of boots I’ve kept year after year,
And I promised to tell you (when ‘funning’ last night)
The reasons I have thus to keep them in sight.
“Those boots were Tom Moody’s (a better ne’er strode
A hunter or hack, in the field—on the road—
None more true to his friend, or his bottle when full,
In short, you may call him a thorough John Bull).
“Now this world you must own’s a strange compound of fate,
(A kind of tee-to-turn resembling of late)
Where hope promised joy _there_ will sorrow be found,
And the vessel best trimm’d is oft soonest aground.
“I’ve come in for my share of ‘Take-up’ and ‘Put-down,’
And that rogue, Disappointment, oft makes me look brown,
And then (you may sneer and look wise if you will)
From those old pair of boots I can comfort distil.
“I but cast my eyes on them and old Willey Hall
Is before me again, with its ivy-crown’d wall,
Its brook of soft murmurs—its rook-laden trees,
The gilt vane on its dovecot swung round by the breeze.
“I see its old owner descend from the door,
I feel his warm grasp as I felt it of yore;
Whilst old servants crowd round—as they once us’d to do,
And their old smiles of welcome beam on me anew.
“I am in the old bedroom that looks on the lawn,
The old cock is crowing to herald the dawn;
There! old Jerry is rapping, and hark how he hoots,
‘’Tis past five o’clock, Tom, and here are your boots.’
“I am in the old homestead, and here comes ‘old Jack,’
And old Stephens has help’d Master George to his back;
Whilst old _Childers_, old _Pilot_, and little _Blue-boar_
Lead the merry-tongued hounds through the old kennel door.
“I’m by the old wood, and I hear the old cry—
‘Od’s rat ye dogs—wind him! Hi! Nimble, lad, hi!’
I see the old fox steal away through the gap,
Whilst old Jack cheers the hounds with his old velvet cap.
“I’m seated again by my old grandad’s chair,
Around me old friends and before me old fare;
Every guest is a sportsman, and scarlet his suit,
And each leg ’neath the table is cas’d in a boot.
“I hear the old toasts and the old songs again,
‘_Old Maiden_’—‘_Tom Moody_’—‘_Poor Jack_’—‘_Honest Ben_;’
I drink the old wine, and I hear the old call—
‘Clean glasses, fresh bottles, and _pipes_ for us all.’”
CHAPTER XII.
SUCCESS OF THE SONG.
Dibdin’s Song—Dibdin and the Squire good fellows well met—Moody a
Character after Dibdin’s own heart—The Squire’s Gift—Incledon—The
Shropshire Fox-hunters on the Stage at Drury Lane.
THE reader will have perceived that George Forester and Charles Dibdin
were good fellows well met, and that no two men were ever better fitted
to appreciate each other. Like the popular monarch of the time, each
prided himself upon being a Briton; each admired every new distinguishing
trait of nationality, and gloried in any special development of national
pluck and daring. No one more than Mr. Forester was ready to endorse
that charming bit of history Dibdin gave of his native land in his song
of “The snug little Island,” or would join more heartily in the chorus:—
“Search the globe round, none can be found
So happy as this little island.”
[Picture: A meet at Hangster’s gate]
No one could have done its geography or have painted the features of its
inhabitants in fewer words or stronger colours. We use the word stronger
rather than brighter, remembering that Dibdin drew his heroes redolent of
tar, of rum, and tobacco. He had the knack of seizing upon broad
national characteristics, and, like a true artist, of bringing them
prominently into the foreground by means of such simple accessories as
seemed to give them force and effect.
In the Willey whipper-in Dibdin found the same unsophisticated bit of
primitive nature cropping up which he so successfully brought out in his
portraits of salt-water heroes; he found the same spirit differently
manifested; for had Moody served in the cock-pit, the gun-room, on deck,
or at the windlass, he would have been a “Ben Backstay” or a “Poor
Jack”—from that singleness of aim and daring which actuated him. How
clearly Dibdin set forth this sentiment in that stanza of the song of
“Poor Jack,” in which the sailor, commenting upon the sermon of the
chaplain, draws this conclusion:—
“D’ye mind me, a sailor should be, every inch,
All as one as a piece of a ship;
And, with her, brave the world without off’ring to flinch,
From the moment the anchor’s a-trip.
As to me, in all weathers, all times, tides, and ends,
Nought’s a trouble from duty that springs;
My heart is my Poll’s, and my rhino my friend’s,
And as for my life, ’tis my King’s.”
The country was indebted to this faculty of rhyming for much of that
daring and devotion to its interests which distinguished soldiers and
sailors at that remarkable period. Dibdin’s songs, as he, with pride,
was wont to say, were “the solace of sailors on long voyages, in storms,
and in battles.” His “Tom Moody” illustrated the same pluck and daring
which under the vicissitudes and peculiarities of the times—had it been
Tom’s fortune to have served under Drake or Blake, Howe, Jervis, or
Nelson—would equally have supplied materials for a stave.
From the letter of the Squire the reader will see how truthfully the
great English Beranger, as he has been called, adhered to the
circumstances in his song:—
“You all knew Tom Moody, the whipper-in, well.
The bell that’s done tolling was honest Tom’s knell;
A more able sportsman ne’er followed a hound
Through a country well known to him fifty miles round.
No hound ever open’d with Tom near a wood,
But he’d challenge the tone, and could tell if it were good;
And all with attention would eagerly mark,
When he cheer’d up the pack, ‘Hark! to Rockwood, hark! hark!
Hie!—wind him! and cross him! Now, Rattler, boy! Hark!’
“Six crafty earth-stoppers, in hunter’s green drest,
Supported poor Tom to an earth made for rest.
His horse, which he styled his ‘Old Soul,’ next appear’d,
On whose forehead the brush of his last fox was rear’d:
Whip, cap, boots, and spurs, in a trophy were bound,
And here and there followed an old straggling hound.
Ah! no more at his voice yonder vales will they trace!
Nor the welkin resound his burst in the chase!
With high over! Now press him! Tally-ho! Tally-ho!
“Thus Tom spoke his friends ere he gave up his breath:
‘Since I see you’re resolved to be in at the death,
One favour bestow—’tis the last I shall crave,
Give a rattling view-halloo thrice over my grave;
And unless at that warning I lift up my head,
My boys, you may fairly conclude I am dead!’
Honest Tom was obeyed, and the shout rent the sky,
For every one joined in the tally-ho cry!
Tally-ho! Hark forward! Tally-ho! Tally-ho!”
On leaving Willey, Mr. Forester asked Dibdin what he could do to
discharge the obligation he felt himself under for his services; the
great ballad writer, whom Pitt pensioned, replied “Nothing;” he had been
so well treated that he could not accept anything. Finding artifice
necessary, Mr. Forester asked him if he would deliver a letter for him
personally at his banker’s on his arrival in London. Of course Dibdin
consented, and on doing so he found it was an order to pay him £100!
When the song first came out Charles Incledon, by the “human voice
divine,” was drawing vast audiences at Drury Lane Theatre. On
play-bills, in largest type, forming the most attractive morceaux of the
bill of fare, this song, varied by others of Dibdin’s composing, would be
seen; and when he was first announced to sing it, a few fox-hunting
friends of the Squire went to London to hear it. Taking up their
positions in the pit, they were all attention as the inimitable singer
rolled out, with that full volume of voice which at once delighted and
astounded his audience, the verse commencing:—
“You all knew Tom Moody the whipper-in well.”
But the great singer did not succeed to the satisfaction of the small
knot of Shropshire fox-hunters in the “tally-ho chorus.” Detecting the
technical defect which practical experience in the field alone could
supply, they jumped upon the stage, and gave the audience a specimen of
what Shropshire lungs could do.
The song soon became popular. It seized at once upon the sporting mind,
and upon the mind of the country generally. The London publishers took
it up, and gave it with the music, together with woodcuts and
lithographic illustrations, and it soon found a ready sale. But the
illustrations were untruthful. The church was altogether a fancy sketch,
exceedingly unlike the quaint old simple structure still standing. A
print published by Wolstenholme, in 1832, contains a very faithful
representation of the church on the northern side, with the grave, and a
large gathering of sportsmen and spectators, at the moment the “view
halloo” is supposed to have been given. It is altogether spiritedly
drawn and well coloured, and makes a pleasing subject; but the view is
taken on the wrong side of the church, the artist having evidently chosen
this, the northern side, because of the distance and middle distance, and
in order to make a taking picture. The view has this advantage, however,
it shows the Clee Hills in the distance. Tom’s grave is covered by a
simple slab, containing the following inscription,
TOM MOODY,
BURIED NOV. 19TH, 1796,
and is on the opposite side, near the old porch, and chief entrance to
the church.
In the full-page engraving, representing a meet near “Hangster’s Gate,” a
famous “fixture” in the old Squire’s time, the assembled sportsmen are
supposed to be startled by the re-appearance of Tom upon the ground of
his former exploits. It is the belief of some that when a corpse is laid
in the grave an angel gives notice of the coming of two examiners. The
dead person is then made to undergo the ordeal before two spirits of
terrible appearance. Whether this was the faith of Tom’s friends or not
we cannot say, but Tom was supposed to have been anything but satisfied
with his quarters or his company, and to have returned to visit the
Willey Woods. The picture presents a group of sportsmen and hounds
beneath the trees, and attention is directed towards the spectre, an old
decayed stump. The following lines refer to the tradition:—
“See the shade of Tom Moody, you all have known well,
To our sports now returning, not liking to dwell
In a region where pleasure’s not found in the chase,
So Tom’s just returned to view his old place.
No sooner the hounds leave the kennel to try,
Than his spirit appears to join in the cry;
Now all with attention, his signal well mark,
For see his hand’s up for the cry of Hark! Hark!
Then cheer him, and mark him, Tally-ho! Boys! Tally-ho!”
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WILLEY SQUIRE MEMBER FOR WENLOCK.
The Willey Squire recognises the Duties of his Position, and becomes
Member for Wenlock—Addison’s View of Whig Jockeys and Tory
Fox-hunters—State of Parties—Pitt in Power—“Fiddle-Faddle”—Local
Improvements—The Squire Mayor of Wenlock—The Mace now carried before the
Chief Magistrate.
THERE is an old English maxim that “too much of anything is good for
nothing;” the obvious meaning being that a man should not addict himself
over much to any one pursuit; and it is only justice to the Willey Squire
that it should be fully understood that whilst passionately fond of the
pleasures of the chase, he was not unmindful of the duties of his
position. Willey was the centre of the sporting country we have
described; but it was also contiguous to a district remarkable for its
manufacturing activity—for its iron works, its pot works, and its brick
works, the proprietors of which, no less than the agricultural portion of
the population, felt that they had an interest in questions of
legislation. Mr. Forester considered that whatever concerned his
neighbourhood and his country concerned him, and his influence and
popularity in the borough led to his taking upon himself the duty of
representing it in Parliament. There was about the temper of the times
something more suited to the temperament of a country gentleman than at
present, and a member of Parliament was less bound to his constituents.
His duties as a representative sat much more lightly, whilst the
pugnacious elements of the nation generally were such that when Mr.
Forester entered upon public life there was nearly as much excitement in
the House of Commons—and not unlike in kind—as was to be found in the
cockpit or the hunting-field.
As long as Mr. Forester could remember, parties had been as sharply
defined as at present, and men were as industriously taught to believe
that whatever ranged itself under one form of faith was praiseworthy,
whilst everything on the other side was to be condemned. Addison, in his
usually happy style, had already described this state of things in the
_Spectator_, where he says:—
“This humour fills the country with several periodical meetings of
Whig jockeys and Tory fox-hunters; not to mention the innumerable
curses, frowns, and whispers it produces at a quarter sessions. . . .
In all our journey from London to this house we did not so much as
bait at a Whig inn; or if by chance the coachman stopped at a wrong
place, one of Sir Roger’s servants would ride up to his master full
speed, and whisper to him that the master of the house was against
such an one in the last election. This often betrayed us into hard
beds and bad cheer, for we were not so inquisitive about the inn as
the innkeeper; and, provided our landlord’s principles were sound,
did not take any notice of the staleness of the provisions.”
So that Whig and Tory had even then long been names representing those
principles by which the Constitution was balanced, names representing
those popular and monarchical ingredients which it was supposed assured
liberty and order, progress and stability. But about the commencement of
Mr. Forester’s parliamentary career parties had been in a great measure
broken up into sections, if not into factions—into Pelhamites,
Cobhamites, Foxites, Pittites, and Wilkites—the questions uppermost being
place, power, and distinction, ministry and opposition—the Ins and the
Outs. The Ins, when Whigs, pretty much as now, adopted Tory principles,
and Tories in opposition appealed to popular favour for support; indeed
from the fall of Walpole to the American war, as now, there were few
statesmen who were not by turns the colleagues and the adversaries, the
friends and the foes of their contemporaries. The general pulse, it is
true, beat more feverishly, and men went to Parliament or into battle as
readily as to the hunting-field—for the excitement of the thing. To
epitomise, mighty armies, such as Europe had not seen since the days of
Marlborough, were moving in every direction. Four hundred and fifty-two
thousand men were gathering to crush the Prince of a German state, with
one hundred and fifty thousand men in the field to encounter them. The
English and Hanoverian army, under the Duke of Cumberland, was relied
upon to prevent the French attacking Prussia, with whom we had formed an
alliance. England felt an intense interest in the struggle, and bets
were made as to the result. Mr. Forester was returned to the new
Parliament, which met in December, 1757, in time, we believe, to vote for
the subsidy of £670,000 asked for by the king for his “good brother and
ally,” the King of Prussia. A minister like Pitt, who was then inspiring
the people with his spirit, and raising the martial ardour of the nation
to a pitch it had never known before, who drew such pictures of England’s
power and pluck as to cause the French envoy to jump out of the window,
was a man after the Squire’s own heart, and he gave him his hearty “aye,”
to subsidy after subsidy. As a contemporary satirist wrote:—
“No more they make a fiddle-faddle
About a Hessian horse or saddle.
No more of continental measures;
No more of wasting British treasures.
Ten millions, and a vote of credit.
’Tis right. He can’t be wrong who did it.”
Mr. Forester gave way to Cecil Forester, a few months prior to the
marriage of the King to the Princess Charlotte; but was returned again,
in 1768, with Sir Henry Bridgeman, and sat till 1774, during what has
been called the “Unreported Parliament.” He was returned in October of
the same year with the same gentleman. He was also returned to the new
Parliament in 1780, succeeding Mr. Whitmore, who, having been returned
for Wenlock and Bridgnorth, elected to sit for the latter; and he sat
till 1784. Sir H. Bridgeman and John Simpson, Esq., were then returned,
and sat till the following year; when Mr. Simpson accepted the Chiltern
Hundreds, and Mr. Forester, being again solicited to represent the
interests of the borough, was returned, and continued to sit until the
sixteenth Parliament of Great Britain, having nearly completed its full
term of seven years, was dissolved, soon after its prorogation in June,
1790.
[Picture: The First Iron Bridge]
It is not our intention to comment upon the votes given by the Squire in
his place in Parliament during the thirty years he sat in the House;
suffice it to say, that we believe he gave an honest support to measures
which came before the country, and that he was neither bought nor bribed,
as many members of that period were. He was active in getting the
sanction of Parliament for local improvements, for the construction of a
towing-path along the Severn, and for the present handsome iron
bridge—the first of its kind—over it, to connect the districts of
Broseley and Madeley. On retiring from the office of chief magistrate of
the borough, which he filled for some years, he presented to the
corporation the handsome mace now in use, which bears the following
inscription:—
“The gift of George Forester of Willey, Esq., to the Bailiff,
Burgesses, and Commonalty of the Borough of Wenlock, as a token of
his high esteem and regard for the attachment and respect they
manifested towards him during the many years he represented the
borough in Parliament, and served the office of Chief Magistrate and
Justice thereof.”
CHAPTER XIV.
THE SQUIRE AND HIS VOLUNTEERS.
The Squire and the Wenlock Volunteers—Community of Feeling—Threats of
Invasion—“We’ll follow the Squire to Hell if necessary”—The Squire’s
Speech—His Birthday—His Letter to the _Shrewsbury Chronicle_—Second
Corps—Boney and Beacons—The Squire in a Rage—The Duke of York and Prince
of Orange came down.
* * * * *
“Not once or twice, in our rough island story,
The path of duty was the way to glory.”
[Picture: Bridgnorth]
WE fancy there was a greater community of feeling in Squire Forester’s
day than now, and that whether indulging in sport or in doing earnest
work, men acted more together. Differences of wealth caused less
differences of caste, of speech, and of habit; men of different classes
saw more of each other and were more together; consequently there was
more cohesion of the particles of which society is composed, and, if the
term be admissible, the several grades were more interpenetrated by
agencies which served to make them one. Gentlemen were content with the
good old English sports and pastimes of the period, and these caused them
to live on their own estates, surrounded by and in the presence of those
whom modern refinements serve to separate; and their dependants therefore
were more alive to those reciprocal, neighbourly, and social duties out
of which patriotism springs. They might not have been better or wiser,
but they appear to have approached nearer to that state of society when
every citizen considered himself to be so closely identified with the
nation as to feel bound to bear arms against an invading enemy, and, as
far as possible, to avert a danger. Never was the rivalry of England and
France more vehement. Emboldened by successes, the French began to think
themselves all but invincible, and burned to meet in mortal combat their
ancient enemies, whilst our countrymen, equally defiant, and with
recollections of former glory, sought no less an opportunity of measuring
their strength with the veteran armies of their rivals. The embers of
former passions yet lay smouldering when the French Minister of Marine
talked of making a descent on England, and of destroying the Government;
a threat calculated to influence the feelings of old sportsmen like
Squire Forester, who nourished a love of country, whose souls throbbed
with the same national feeling, and who were equally ready to respond to
a call to maintain the sacredness of their homes, or to risk their lives
in their defence. Oneyers and Moneyers—men “whose words upon ’change
would go much further than their blows in battle,” as Falstaff says, came
forward, if for nothing else, as examples to others. On both banks of
the Severn men looked upon the Squire as a sort of local centre, and as
the head of a district, as a leader whom they would follow—as one old
tradesman said—to hell, if necessary. A general meeting was called at
the Guildhall, Wenlock, and a still more enthusiastic gathering took
place at Willey. Mr. Forester never did things by halves, and what he
did he did at once. He was not much at speech-making, but he had that
ready wit and happy knack of going to the point and hitting the nail on
the head in good round Saxon, that told amazingly with his old foxhunting
friends.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you know very well that I have retired from the
representation of the borough. I did so in the belief that I had
discharged, as long as need be, those public duties I owe to my
neighbours; and in the hope that I should be permitted henceforth to
enjoy the pleasures of retirement. I parted with my hounds, and gave up
hunting; but here I am, continually on horseback, hunting up men all
round the Wrekin! The movement is general, and differences of feeling
are subsiding into one for the defence of the nation. Whigs and Tories
stand together in the ranks; and as I told the Lord-Lieutenant the other
day, we must have not less than four or five thousand men in uniform,
equipped, every Jack-rag of ’em, without a farthing cost to the country.
(Applause.) There are some dastardly devils who run with the hare, but
hang with the hounds, damn ’em (laughter); whose patriotism, by G—d,
hangs by such a small strand that I believe the first success of the
enemies of the country would sever it. They are a lot of damnation
Jacobins, all of ’em, whining black-hearted devils, with distorted
intellects, who profess to perceive no danger. And, by G—d, the more
plain it is, the less they see it. It is, as I say, put an owl into
daylight, stick a candle on each side of him, and the more light the poor
devil has the less he sees.” (Cries of “Bravo, hurrah for the Squire.”)
In conclusion he called upon the lawyer, the ironmaster, the pot maker,
the artisan, and the labourer to drill, and prepare for defending their
hearths and homes; they had property to defend, shops that might be
plundered, houses that might be burned, or children to save from being
brained, and wives or daughters to protect from treatment which sometimes
prevailed in time of war.
As a result of his exertions, a strong and efficient company was formed,
called “The Wenlock Loyal Volunteers.” The Squire was major, and he
spared neither money nor trouble in rendering it efficient. He always
gave the members a dinner on the 4th of June, the birthday of George
III., who had won his admiration and devotion by his boldness as a
fox-hunter, no less than by his daring proposal, during the riots of
1780, to ride at the head of his guards into the midst of the fires of
the capital. On New Year’s Day, that being the birthday of Major
Forester, the officers and men invariably dined together in honour of
their commander. The corps were disbanded, we believe, in 1802, for we
find in a cutting from a Shrewsbury paper of the 12th of January, 1803,
that about that time a subscription was entered into for the purchase of
a handsome punch-bowl. The newspaper states that
“On New Year’s Day, 1803, the members of the late corps of Wenlock
Loyal Volunteers, commanded by Major Forester, dined at the Raven
Inn, Much Wenlock, in honour of their much-respected major’s
birthday, when the evening was spent with that cheerful hilarity and
orderly conduct which always characterised this respectable corps,
when embodied for the service of their king and country. In the
morning of the day the officers, deputed by the whole corps, waited
on the Major, at Willey, and presented him, in an appropriate speech,
with a most elegant bowl, of one hundred guineas value, engraved with
his arms, and the following inscription, which the Major was pleased
to accept, and returned a suitable answer:—‘To George Forester, of
Willey, Esq., Major Commandant of the Wenlock Loyal Volunteers, for
his sedulous attention and unbounded liberality to his corps, raised
and disciplined under his command without any expense to Government,
and rendered essentially serviceable during times of unprecedented
difficulty and danger; this humble token of their gratitude and
esteem is most respectfully presented to him by his truly faithful
and very obedient servants,
“‘THE WENLOCK VOLUNTEERS.
“‘Major Forester.’”
The following reply appeared in the same paper the succeeding week:—
“Major Forester, seeing an account in the Shrewsbury papers relative
to the business which occurred at Willey upon New Year’s Day last,
between him and his late corps of Wenlock Volunteers, presumes to
trouble the public eye with his answer thereto, thinking it an
unbounded duty of gratitude and respect owing to his late corps, to
return them (as their late commander) his most explicit public
thanks, as well as his most grateful and most sincere
acknowledgments, for the high honour lately conferred upon him, by
their kind present of a silver bowl, value one hundred guineas.
Major Forester’s unwearied attention, as well as his liberality to
his late corps, were ever looked upon by him as a part of his duty,
in order to make some compensation to a body of distinguished
respectable yeomanry, who had so much the interest and welfare of him
and their country at heart, that he plainly perceived himself, and so
must every other intelligent spectator on the ground at the time of
exercise, that they only waited impatiently for the word to put the
order into execution directly; but with such regularity as their
commander required and ever had cheerfully granted to him. A return
of mutual regard between the major and his late corps was all he
wished for, and he is now more fully convinced, by this public mark
of favour, of their real esteem and steady friendship. He therefore
hopes they will (to a man) give him credit when he not only assures
them of his future constant sincerity and unabated affection, but
further take his word when he likewise promises them that his
gratitude and faithful remembrance of the Wenlock Loyal Volunteers
shall never cease but with the last period of his worldly existence.
“WILLEY, 12th Jan., 1803.”
Soon after the first corps of volunteers was disbanded, the Squire was
entertaining his guests with the toast—
“God save the king, and bless the land
In plenty, song, and peace;
And grant henceforth that foul debates
’Twixt noblemen may cease—”
when he received a letter from London, stating that at an audience given
to Cornwallis, the First Consul was very gracious; that he inquired after
the health of the king, and “spoke of the British nation in terms of
great respect, intimating that as long as they remained friends there
would be no interruption to the peace of Europe.”
One of the guests added—
“And that I think’s a reason fair to drink and fill again.”
It was clear to all, however, who looked beneath the surface, that the
peace was a hollow truce, and that good grounds existed for timidity, if
not for fear, respecting a descent upon our shores:
“Sometimes the vulgar see and judge aright.”
Month by month, week by week, clouds were gathering upon a sky which the
Peace of Amiens failed to clear.
The First Consul declared against English commerce, and preparations on a
gigantic scale were being made by the construction of vessels on the
opposite shores of the Channel for invasion.
The public spirit in France was invoked; the spirit of this country was
also aroused, and vigorous efforts were made by Parliament and the people
to maintain the inviolability of our shores. Newspaper denunciations
excited the ire of the First Consul, who demanded of the English
Government that it should restrict their power. A recriminatory war of
words, of loud and fierce defiances, influenced the temper of the people
on each side of the Channel, and it again became evident that differences
existed which could only be settled by the sword. In a conversation with
Lord Whitworth, Napoleon was reported to have said:—“A descent upon your
coasts is the only means of offence I possess; and that I am determined
to attempt, and to put myself at its head. But can you suppose that,
after having gained the height on which I stand, I would risk my life and
reputation in so hazardous an undertaking, unless compelled to it by
absolute necessity. I know that the probability is that I myself, and
the greatest part of the expedition, will go to the bottom. There are a
hundred chances to one against me; but I am determined to make the
attempt; and such is the disposition of the troops that army after army
will be found ready to engage in the enterprise.” This conversation took
place on the 21st of February, 1803; and such were the energetic measures
taken by the English Government and people, that on the 25th of March,
independent of the militia, 80,000 strong, which were called out at that
date, and the regular army of 130,000 already voted, the House of
Commons, on June 28th, agreed to the very unusual step of raising 50,000
men additional, by drafting, in the proportion of 34,000 for England,
10,000 for Ireland, and 6,000 for Scotland, which it was calculated would
raise the regular troops in Great Britain to 112,000 men, besides a large
surplus force for offensive operations. In addition to this a bill was
brought in shortly afterwards to enable the king to call out the levy _en
masse_ to repel the invasion of the enemy, and empowering the
lord-lieutenants of the several counties to enrol all the men in the
kingdom, between seventeen and fifty-five years of age, to be divided
into regiments according to their several ages and professions: those
persons to be exempt who were members of any volunteer corps approved of
by his Majesty. Such was the state of public feeling generally that the
king was enabled to review, in Hyde Park, sixty battalions of volunteers,
127,000 men, besides cavalry, all equipped at their own expense. The
population of the country at the time was but a little over ten millions,
about a third of what it is at present; yet such was the zeal and
enthusiasm that in a few weeks 300,000 men were enrolled, armed, and
disciplined, in the different parts of the kingdom.
The movement embraced all classes and professions. It was successful in
providing a powerful reserve of trained men to strengthen the ranks and
to supply the vacancies of the regular army, thus contributing in a
remarkable manner to produce a patriotic ardour and feeling among the
people, and laying the foundation of that spirit which enabled Great
Britain at length to appear as principal in the contest, and to beat down
the power of France, even where hitherto she had obtained unexampled
success.
Thus, after the first Wenlock Loyal Volunteers were disbanded, Squire
Forester found but little respite; he and the Willey fox-hunters again
felt it their duty to come forward and enroll themselves in the Second
Wenlock Royal Volunteers.
“Design whate’er we will,
There is a fate which overrules us still.”
No man was better fitted to undertake the task; no one knew better how
“By winning words to conquer willing hearts,
And make persuasion do the work of fear.”
And, mainly through his exertions, an able corps was formed, consisting
of a company and a half at Much Wenlock, a company and a half at
Broseley, and half a company at Little Wenlock; altogether forming a
battalion of 280 men. For the county altogether there were raised 940
cavalry, 5,022 infantry; rank and file, 5,852. Mr. Harries, of Benthall;
Mr. Turner, of Caughley; Mr. Pritchard and Mr. Onions, of Broseley;
Messrs. W. and R. Anstice, of Madeley Wood and Coalport; Mr. Collins, Mr.
Jeffries, and Mr. Hinton, of Wenlock; and others, were among the officers
and leading members. The uniform was handsome, the coat being scarlet,
turned up with yellow, the trousers and waistcoat white, and the hat a
cube, with white and red feathers for the grenadiers, and green ones for
the light company. The old hall once more resounded with martial music,
the clang of arms, and patriotic songs; drums and fifes, clarionets and
bugles, were piled up with guns and accoutrements in the form of
trophies, above the massive chimney-piece, putting the deer-horns, the
foxes’ heads, and the old cabinets of oak—black as ebony—out of
countenance by their gaudy colouring. People became as familiar with the
music of military bands as with the sound of church bells; both were
heard together on Sundays, the days generally selected for drill, for
heavy taxes were laid on, and people had to work hard to pay them, which
they did willingly. The Squire had the women on his side, and he worked
upon the men through the women. There was open house at Willey, and no
baron of olden time dealt out hospitality more willingly or more
liberally. The Squire was here, there, and everywhere, visiting
neighbouring squires, giving or receiving information, stirring up the
gentry, and frightening country people out of their wits. _Boney_ became
more terrible than _bogy_, both to children and grown-up persons; and the
more vague the notion of invasion to Shropshire inlanders, the more
horrible the evils to be dreaded. The clergy preached about Bonaparte
out of the Revelations; conjurers and “wise-men,” greater authorities
even then than the clergy, saw a connection between Bonaparte and the
strange lights which every one had seen in the heavens! The popular
notion was that “Boney” was an undefined, horrible monster, who had a
sheep dressed every morning for breakfast, who required an ox for his
dinner, and had six little English children cooked—when he could get
them—for supper! At the name of “Boney” naughty children were
frightened, and a false alarm of his coming and landing often made
grown-up men turn pale.
“This way and that the anxious mind is torn.”
The impulse was in proportion to the alarm; the determination raised was
spirited and praiseworthy. Stout hearts constituted an _impromptu_
force, daily advancing in organization, with arms and accoutrements,
ready to march with knapsacks to any point where numbers might be
required. Once or twice, when a company received orders to march, as to
Bridgnorth, for instance, an alarm was created among wives, daughters,
and sweethearts, that they were about to join the battalion for active
service, and stories are told of leave-takings and weepings on such
occasions. Beacons were erected, and bonfires prepared on the highest
points of the country round, as being the quickest means of transmitting
news of the approach of an enemy. Of these watch-fire signals, Macaulay
says:—
“On and on, without a horse untired, they hounded still
All night from tower to tower, they sprang from hill to hill,
Till the proud peak unfurled the flag o’er Derwent’s rocky dales,—
Till like volcanoes flared to heaven the stormy hills of Wales,—
Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern’s lonely height,—
Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin’s crest of light—
Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Elsig’s stately fane,
And tower and hamlet rose in arms o’er all the boundless plain.”
Within a mile of Willey Hall a tenant of Squire Forester, and, as we have
seen, an occasional guest—John Wilkinson, “the great ironmaster”—was
urging his men day and night to push the manufacture of shot, shell,
howitzers, and guns, which Mr. Forester believed were for the government
of the country, but many of which were designed for its enemies. Night
and day heavy hammers were thundering, day and night the “great blast”
was blowing. He was well known to the French government and French
engineers, having erected the first steam engine there in 1785, for which
he was highly complimented by the Duke d’Angouleme, M. Bertrand, and
others, and treated to a grand banquet, given to him on the 14th of
January, 1786, at the Hôtel de Ville. Arthur Young, in his travels in
France, tells us that until this well-known English manufacturer arrived
the French knew nothing of the art of casting cannon from the solid, and
then boring them. When Wilkinson returned to England, he continued to
send guns after war had been declared. This clandestine proceeding came
to the knowledge of Squire Forester, who swore, and roared like a caged
lion. Here was the Squire, who boasted of his loyalty to good King
George, having the minerals of his estate worked up into guns for those
wretched French, whom he detested. He declared he would hunt Wilkinson
out of the country; but the latter took care to keep out of his way.
The exposure ended in a seizure being made. But Wilkinson, a
money-getting, unprincipled fellow, finding he could not send guns
openly, sent best gun-iron in rude blocks, with a pretence that they were
for ballast for shipping, but which, like some of his water-pipes, were
used for making guns. His warehouse was at Willey Wharf, on the Severn,
by which they were sent, when there was sufficient water, in barges,
which took them out into the British Channel, and round the coast to
French cruisers; and it was at this wharf he built his first famous iron
barge. The proprietors of the Calcutts furnaces, at which young
Cochrane, afterwards Earl Dundonald—one of the last of our old “Sea
Lions”—spent some time, when a boy, with his father, Lord Dundonald,
{171} were also casting and boring guns; but, in consequence of refusing
to fee Government servants at Woolwich, the manufacturers had a number of
them thrown upon their hands, which they sold to a firm at Rotherham, and
which found their way to India, where they were recognised by old workmen
in the army, who captured them during the Sikh war. At the same time
cannon which burst, and did almost as much damage to the English as to
their enemies, were palmed off upon the nation.
Mr. Forester wrote to the Duke of York, who came down, accompanied by the
Prince of Orange, to examine the guns for himself; and a number of 18 and
32-pounders were fired in honour of the event. Others were subjected to
various tests, to the entire satisfaction of the visitors.
At this period the Willey country presented a spectacle altogether
unparalleled in Mr. Forester’s experience; his entire sympathy and that
of his fox-hunting friends was enlisted in the warlike movements
everywhere going forward, for the standards of the Wenlock and Morfe
Volunteers now drew around them men of all classes. Farmers allowed
their ploughs to stand still in the furrows, that the peasant might hurry
with the artisan, musket on shoulder, to his rallying point in the fields
near Wenlock, Broseley, or Bridgnorth. Whigs and Tories stood beside
each other in the Volunteer ranks, heart-burnings and divisions as to
principles and policy were for the time forgotten, and the Squire,
although now unable to take the same active part he formerly did,
contributed materially by his presence and advice to the zeal and
alacrity which distinguished his neighbours.
CHAPTER XV.
THE WILLEY SQUIRE AMONG HIS NEIGHBOURS.
The Squire among his Neighbours—Roger de Coverley—Anecdotes—Gentlemen
nearest the Fire in the Lower Regions—Food Riots—The Squire quells the
Mob—His Virtues and his Failings—Influences of the Times—His Career draws
to a Close—His wish for Old Friends and Servants to follow him to the
Grave—That he may be buried in the Dusk of Evening—His Favourite Horse to
be shot—His Estates to go to his Cousin, Cecil Weld, the First Lord
Forester.
LIKE Addison’s Sir Roger de Coverley, the Willey Squire lived a father
among his tenants, a friend among his neighbours, and a good master
amongst his servants, who seldom changed. He feasted the rich, and did
not forget the poor, but allowed them considerable privileges on the
estate; and there are a few old people—it is true there are but few—who
remember interviews they had with the Squire when going to gather
bilberries in the park, or when sent on some errand to the Hall. An old
man, who brightened up at the mention of the Squire’s name, said,
“Remember him, I think I do; he intended that I should do so. I was sent
by my mother to the Hall for barm, when, seeing an old man in the yard,
and little thinking it was the Squire, I said, ‘Sirrah, is there going to
be any stir here to-day?’ ‘Aye, lad,’ says he, ‘come in, and see;’ and
danged if he didn’t get the horse-whip and stir me round the kitchen,
where he pretended to flog me, laughing the while ready to split his
sides. He gave me a rare blow out though, and my mother found
half-a-crown at the bottom of the jug when she poured out the barm.”
“Did you ever hear of his being worsted by the sweep?” said another. “He
was generally a match for most, but the sweep was too much for him. The
Squire had been out, and, being caught in a storm, he called at a
public-house to shelter. Seeing that it was Mr. Forester, the customers
made way for him to sit next the fire, and whilst he was drying himself a
sweep came to the door, and looked in; but, seeing the Squire, he was
making off again. ‘Hollo,’ said Mr. Forester, ‘what news from the lower
region?’ ‘Oh,’ replied the sweep, ‘things are going on there, Squire,
much as they are here—the _gentlemen are nearest the fire_!’” A third of
our informants remarked: “He was one of the old sort, but a right ’un.
Why, when there was a bad harvest, and no work for men, after one of them
war times, and the colliers were rioting and going to break open the
shops, to tear down the flour mill, and do other damage, the old Squire
was the only man that could stop them—he had such influence with the
people. The poor never wanted a friend whilst old George Forester lived.
There were plenty of broken victuals to be had for the fetching, a
tankard of right good ale, with bread and cheese, or cold mutton, for all
comers.”
[Picture: Willey Church]
The years 1774–1782 were periods of local gloom and distress, when
haggard hunger and ignorant force banded together to trample down the
safeguards of civil rights, and armed ruffians took the initiative in
violent scrambles for food. The cavalry were called out, and fierce
battles were fought in the iron districts, where the rioters sometimes
took refuge on cinder heaps, which supplied them with sharp cutting
missiles. In 1795 the colliers and iron-workers being in a state of
commotion, were only prevented from rising by assurances that gentlemen
of property were disposed to contribute liberally to their relief, and
thousands of bushels of Indian corn were obtained by the Squire and
others from Liverpool to add to the grain procurable in the neighbourhood
to meet immediate necessities. A meeting of gentlemen, farmers, millers,
and tradesmen was held at the Tontine Hotel, on the 9th of July in that
year, to consider the state of things arising out of the scarcity of corn
and the dearness of all other provisions, at which a committee was formed
for the immediate collection of contributions and the purchase of grain
at a reduction of one-fourth, or 9_s._ for 12_s._ Mr. Forester at once
gave notice to all his tenants to deliver wheat to the committee at
12_s._, whilst he himself gave £105, and agreed to advance £700 more, to
be repaid from the produce of the corn sold at a reduced price. Such
were the wants of the district, the murmurs of the inhabitants, and the
distinctions made between those who were considered benefactors, and
others who were not, that fear was entertained of a general uprising; and
application was made to Mr. Forester, both as a friend and a magistrate.
He assumed more the character of the former, and his presence acted like
magic upon the rough miners, who by his kindness and tact were at once
put into good humour. Having brought waggons of coal, drawn with ropes,
for sale, the first thing the Squire did was to purchase the coal: he
then bought up all the butter in the market, and purchased all the bread
in the town, he emptied the butchers’ shops in the same way, and advised
the men to go home with the provisions he gave them.
We are quite aware that it might be said that Squire Forester was not a
model for imitation; and it might be replied that no man ever was,
altogether, even for men of his own time, much less for those of one or
two generations removed, always excepting Him whose name should never be
uttered lightly, and in whom the human and divine were combined. He had
sufficient inherent good qualities, however, to make half a dozen
ordinary modern country gentlemen popular; still his one failing, shared
among the same number, might no less damn them in the eyes of society.
Some would, no doubt, have liked Dibdin’s heroes better if he had been
less truthful, by making the language more agreeable to the ear, by
substituting, as one writer has said, “dear me” for “damme,” and lemonade
for grog; but such critics are what Dibdin himself called “lubbers” and
“swabs.” In the same way, some would be for toning down the characters
of Squire Forester and Parson Stephens; but this would be a mistake: an
artist might as well smooth over with vegetation every out-cropping rock
he finds in his foreground. We might say a great deal more about the old
Squire, and the Willey Rector too, but there is no reason why we should
say less. If we err, we err with the best and gravest writers of
history, who, without fear or favour, wrote of things as they found them;
and those who are familiar with the writings of men of the past—such as
the Sixth Satire of Juvenal, will admit that men like Squire Forester
were examples of modesty. Men of all grades, every day, are brought in
contact with much that might more strongly be objected to in the public
Press; and there is no reason why the veil should not be raised in order
that we may view the past as it really was.
The fact is, the Squire found the atmosphere of the times congenial to
his temperament. A very popular Shropshire rake and play writer,
Wycherley, had done much to lower the tone of morality by representing
peccadilloes, not as something which the violence of passion may excuse,
but as accomplishments worthy of gentlemen,—his “Country Wife” and “Plain
Dealer” being examples. Congreve followed in his wake, with his “Old
Bachelor,” which may be judged by its apothegm:—
“What rugged ways attend the noon of life;
Our sun declines, and with what anxious strife,
What pain, we tug that galling load—a wife!”
A fair estimate of the looseness of the time may be formed from another
representation:—
“The miracle to-day is, that we find
A lover true, not that a woman’s kind;”
and from the fact that even Pope, in his “Epistle to a Lady,” out of his
mature experience could write—
“Men some to business, some to pleasure take,
But every woman is at heart a rake.”
The Squire had been jilted, and breathing such an atmosphere, no wonder
he cast lingering looks to the time
“Ere one to one was cursedly confined,”
or that he never married. It is fortunate he did not, for Venus herself,
we fancy, could not have kept him by her side. His amours were
notorious, and some of his mistresses were rare specimens of rustic
beauty. Two daring spirits who followed the hounds were regular Dianas
in their way, and he spent much of his time in the rural little cottages
of these and others which were dotted over the estate at no great
distance from the Hall. As rare Ben Jonson has it:—
“When some one peculiar quality
Doth so possess a man that it doth draw
All his effects, his spirits, and his powers,
In their confluction all to run one way,
This may be truly said to be a humour.”
Such a humour the old Squire had. Towards the last he found that some of
his mistresses gave him a good deal of trouble; for in carrying out his
desire to leave them comfortably provided for, his best intentions
created jealousy, and he found it difficult to adjust their claims as
regarded matters of income, Phœbe Higgs, who survived the Squire many
years, and lived in a cottage with land attached, on the Willey side of
the Shirlot, being the most clamorous. She set out one night with the
intention of shooting the Squire, but was unnerved by her favourite
monkey, who had stealthily gone on before, and jumped unobserved on her
shoulder as she opened a gate. On another occasion she succeeded in
surprising the Squire by forcing her way into his room and pointing a
loaded pistol at him across the table, vowing she would shoot him unless
he promised to make the sum left for her maintenance equal to that of
Miss Cal—t. He had his children educated; they frequently visited at the
Hall, and some married well. He speaks of them as his children and
grandchildren in his letters, and manifested the greatest anxiety that
everything should be done that could be done, by provisions in his will
for those he was about to leave behind him. Indeed the same
characteristics which gave a colouring to his life distinguished him to
the last; and if the old fires burnt less brightly, the same inner sense
and outward manifestations were evident in all he did.
One thing which troubled him was the chancel of Barrow Church, as will be
seen by the following characteristic letter to his agent, Mr. Pritchard,
asking him to procure a legal opinion about certain encroachments upon
what he conceived to be his rights, and those of the parishioners:—
“DEAR SIR,—
“You must remember Parson Jones has oft been talking to me about the
pews put up, unfairly, I think, in the chancel of Barrow church. The
whole of the chancel is mine as patron, and I am always obliged to do
all the repairs to it, whenever wanted. There is a little small pew
in it of very ancient date, besides these other two; in this, I
suppose, it is intended to thrust poor me, the patron, into; humble
and meek, and deprived of every comfort on my own spot, the chancel.
The parson, you know, has been saucy on the occasion, as you know all
black Toms are, and therefore I’ll now know my power from Mr. Mytton,
and set the matter straight somehow or other. I can safely swear at
this minute a dozen people of this parish (crowd as they will) can’t
receive the Sacrament together, and therefore, instead of there being
pews of any kind therein, there ought to be none at all, but a free
unencumbered chancel at this hour. Rather than be as it is, I’ll be
at the expense of pulling the present chancel down, rebuilding and
enlarging it, so as to make all convenient and clever, before I’ll
suffer these encroachments attended with every insult upon earth.
Surely upon a representation to the bishop that the present chancel
is much too small, and that the patron, at his own expense, wishes to
enlarge it, I cannot think but it will be comply’d with. If this is
not Mr. Mytton’s opinion as the best way, what is? and how am I to
manage these encroaches?
“Yours ever,
—
“P.S.—If the old chancel is taken down, I’ll take care that no pew
shall stand in the new one. Mr. Mytton will properly turn this in
his mind, and I’ll then face the old kit of them boldly. The old pew
I spoke of, besides the other two in the chancel (mean and dirty as
it is to a degree), yet the parson wants to let, if he does not do so
now, to any person that comes to church, no matter who, so long as he
gets the cash. It’s so small no one can sit with bended knees in it;
and, in short, the whole chancel is not more than one-half as big as
the little room I am now seated in; which must apparently show you,
and, on your representation, Mr. Mytton likewise, how much too small
it must be for so large a parish as Barrow, and with the addition of
three pews—one very large indeed, the next to hold two or three
people abreast, and the latter about three sideways, always standing,
and totally unable to kneel in the least comfort.”
Years were beginning to tell upon the old sportsman, reminding him that
his career was drawing to a close, and he appeared to apprehend the truth
Sir Thomas Brown embodied in the remark, that every hour adds to the
current arithmetic, which scarce stands one moment; and since “the
longest sun sets at right declensions,” he looked forward to that setting
and made arrangements accordingly, which were in perfect keeping with the
character of the man. He felt that his day was done, that night was
coming on; and it was his wish that those who knew him best should be
those chosen to attend his funeral, that his domestics and servants who
had experienced his kindness should carry him to the tomb. And let it be
when the sun goes down, when the work of the day is done; let each have a
guinea, that he may meet his neighbour afterwards and talk over, if he
likes, the merits and demerits of his old master, as none—next to his
Maker—know them better. The provisions in the will of the old Squire, in
which he left his estates to his cousin Cecil, afterwards Lord Forester,
father of the present Right Hon. Lord Forester, made about five years
before his death, were evidently made in this spirit.
He became ill at one of his cottages on Shirlot, was taken home, attended
by Dr. Thursfield (grandfather of the present Greville Thursfield, M.D.),
and died whilst the doctor was still with him, on the 13th of July, 1811,
in the seventy-third year of his age.
* * * * *
EXTRACTS _from the last Will and Testament_ (_dated the_ 3_rd_ _day
of November_, 1805) _of George Forester_, _late of Willey_, _in the
County of Salop_, _Esquire_.
“I desire that all my just debts and funeral expenses, and the
charges of proving this my Will, may be paid and discharged by my
Executors hereinafter named, with all convenient speed after my
decease, and that my body may be interred in a grave near the
Communion table in the Parish Church of Willey aforesaid, or as near
thereto as may be, in a plain and decent manner. And it is my Will
that eight of my Servants or Workmen be employed as Bearers of my
body to the grave, to each of whom I bequeath the sum of One Guinea,
and I desire my Cousin Cecil Forester, of Ross Hall, in the County of
Salop, Esquire, Member of Parliament for the Town and Liberties of
Wenlock, in the same County, the eldest son of my late uncle, Colonel
Cecil Forester, deceased, to fix upon and appoint six of those of my
friends and companions in the neighbourhood of Willey aforesaid, whom
he knew to have been intimate with, and respected by, me, to be
Bearers of the Pall at my funeral, and I request that my body may be
carried to its burial-place in the dusk of the evening.
“And I do hereby direct that my chestnut horse, commonly called the
Aldenham horse, shall be shot as soon as conveniently may be after my
decease by two persons, one of whom to fire first, and the other to
wait in reserve and fire immediately afterwards, so that he may be
put to death as expeditiously as possible, and I direct that he shall
afterwards be buried with his hide on, and that a flat stone without
inscription shall be placed over him. And I do hereby request my
Cousin Cecil Forester and the said John Pritchard, as soon as
conveniently may be after my decease, to look over and inspect the
letters, papers, and writings belonging to me at the time of my
decease, and such of them as they shall deem to be useless I desire
them to destroy.”
His wishes, we need scarcely say, were carried out to the letter. He was
buried by torchlight in the family vault in Willey Church, beneath the
family pew, to which the steps shown in our engraving lead. Founded and
endowed by the lords of Willey at some remote period, this venerable
edifice has remained, with the exception of its chancel, the same as we
see it, for many generations past. It stands within the shadow of the
Old Hall, and might from its appearance have formed the text of Gray’s
ivy-mantled tower, where
“The moping owl does to the moon complain;”
being covered with a luxuriant growth of this clinging evergreen to the
very top. Standing beneath, and peering through the Norman-looking
windows, which admit but a sober light, glimpses are obtained of costly
monuments with the names and titles of patrons whose escutcheons are
visible against the wall. The Squire’s tomb remains uninscribed; but in
1821 Cecil Weld, the first Lord Forester, erected a marble tablet near,
with the simple record—“To the memory of my late cousin and benefactor,
George Forester, Esq., Willey Park, May 10, 1821.”
THE SQUIRE’S CHESTNUT MARE.
A NEW HUNTING SONG.
_Written for the present Work by_ J. P. DOUGLAS, ESQ.
AWAY we go! my mare and I,
Over fallow and lea:
She’s carried me twenty years or nigh—
The best of friends are we.
With steady stride she sweeps along,
The old Squire on her back:
While echoes far, earth’s sweetest sound,
The music of the pack.
Ah! how they stare, both high and low,
To see the “Willey chestnut” go.
Full many a time, from dewy morn
Until the day was done,
We’ve follow’d the huntsman’s ringing horn,
Proud of a gallant run.
Well in the front, my mare and I—
A good ’un to lead is she;
For’ard, hark for’ard! still the cry—
In at the death are we.
My brave old mare—when I’m laid low
Shall never another master know.
The sailor fondly loves his ship,
The gallant loves his lass;
The toper drains with fever’d lip,
His deep, full-bottom’d glass.
Away! such hollow joys I scorn,
But give to me, I pray,
The cry of the hounds, the sounding horn,
For’ard! hark, hark away!
And this our burial chant shall be,
For the chestnut mare shall die with me!
APPENDIX.
A.—_Page_ 10.
STRUTT, quoting from the book of St. Alban’s the sort of birds assigned
to the different ranks of persons, places them in the following order:—
The eagle, the vulture, and the melona for an emperor.
The ger-falcon and the tercel of the ger-falcon for a king.
The falcon gentle and the tercel gentle for a prince.
The falcon of the rock for a duke.
The falcon peregrine for an earl.
The bastard for a baron.
The sacre and the sacret for a knight.
The lanere and the laneret for an esquire.
The marlyon for a lady.
The hobby for a young man.
The gos-hawk for a yeoman.
The tercel for a poor man.
The sparrow-hawk for a priest.
The musket for a holy-water clerk.
The kesterel for a knave or a servant.
Of some of the later and milder measures taken to protect the hawk, it
may be remarked that the 5th of Elizabeth, c. 21, enacts that if any
person shall unlawfully take any hawks, or their eggs, out of the woods
or ground of any person, and be thereof convicted at the assizes or
sessions on indictment, bill or information at the suit of the king, or
of the party, he shall be imprisoned three months, and pay treble
damages, and after the expiration of three months shall find sureties for
his good abearing for seven years, or remain in prison till he doth, § 3.
The last statute concerning _falconry_ (except a clause in 7 Jac. c. 11,
which limits the time of hawking at pheasants and partridges) is that of
the 23rd Eliz. c. 10, which enacts that if any manner of person shall
hawk in another man’s corn after it is eared, and before it is shocked,
and be therefore convicted at the assizes, sessions, or leet, he shall
pay 40_s._ to the owner, and if not paid within ten days he shall be
imprisoned for a month.
B.—_Page_ 41.
Mr. Eyton, to whose learned and valuable work on the “Antiquities of
Shropshire” the author again acknowledges his obligations, as all who
follow that painstaking writer must do, with regard to the holding at the
More, says, “The earliest notice of this tenure which occurs in the Roll
of Shropshire Sergeantries, is dated 13th of John, 1211, and merely says
that Richard de Medler holds one virgate of land, and renders for the
same annually, at the Feast of St. Michael, two knives (knifeulos). A
second contemporary roll supplies the place of payment, viz., the
Exchequer; a third writes the name, Richard le Mener. In 1245 Nicholas
de More is said to pay at the Exchequer two knives (cultellos)—one good,
the other very bad—for certain land which he holds of the King in capite
in More. In 1255 the Stottesden Jurors report that Nicholas de Medler
holds one virgate in More, in capite of the Lord King, rendering at the
Exchequer two knives, one of which ought to cut a hazel rod, and he does
no other service for the said land. In that of 1274 Jurors of the same
Hundred say at length that Nicholas de la More holds one virgate in that
vill of the Lord King, in capite, by sergeantry, of taking two knives to
the King’s Exchequer, at the feast of St. Michael in each year, so that
he ought to cut a hazel rod with one knife, so that the knife should bend
(plicare) with the stroke; and again, to cut a rod with the other knife.
The record of 1284 describes Nicholas de la More as holding three parts
of a virgate and two moors, by sergeantry, &c. The Jurors of Oct. 1292
say that William de la More, of Erdington, holds one virgate in the More,
by sergeantry of taking two knives to the King’s Exchequer on the morrow
of St. Michael, and to cut with the same knives two hazel rods.”
C—_Page_ 49.
This bold projecting rock is called, from Major Thomas, “Smallman’s
Leap,” from a tradition that the major, a staunch Royalist, being
surprised by a party of Cromwell’s horse, was singly and hotly pursued
over Westwood, where, finding all hope of escape at an end, he turned
from the road, hurried his horse into a full gallop to the edge of the
precipice, and went over. The horse was killed by falling on the trees
beneath, but the major escaped, and secreted himself in the woods.
Certain historical facts, showing that the family long resided here,
appear to give a colouring to this tradition. Thus, in the reign of
Henry III. (57th year) William Smallman had a lease from John Lord of
Brockton par Shipton, Corvedale, of 17½ acres of land, with a sytche,
called Woolsytche, and two parcels of meadow in the fields of Brockton.
John Smallman possessed by lease and grant, from Thomas de la Lake, 30
acres of land in the fields of Larden par Shipton, for twenty years from
the feast of St. Michael, living 4th Edward II. (1310) 41st Edward III.
(1367), Richard Smallman, of Shipton, granted to Roger Powke, of
Brockton, all his lands and tenements in the township and fields of
Shipton, as fully as was contained in an original deed. Witnesses—John
de Galford, Sir Roger Mon (Chaplain), Henry de Stanwy, John Tyklewardyne
(Ticklarton), of Stanton, John de Gurre of the same, with others. 1st
Henry VI. (1422), John Smallman was intrusted with the collection of the
subsidies of taxes payable to the Crown within the franchise of Wenlock.
Thomas Smallman, of Elton, co. Harford, and Inner Temple,
barrister-at-law, afterwards a Welsh judge, purchased the manor of
Wilderhope, Stanway, and the teg and estates, and had a numerous grant of
arms, 5th October, 1589. Major Thomas Smallman, a staunch royalist, born
1624, compounded for his estate £140.
Underneath this bold projecting headland, sometimes called “Ipikin’s
Rock,” is Ipikin’s Cave, an excavation very difficult of approach, where
tradition alleges a bold outlaw long concealed himself and his horse, and
from which he issued to make some predatory excursion.
The term _hope_, both as a prefix and termination, is of such frequent
occurrence here that it is only natural to suppose that it has some
special signification; and looking at the positions of Prest_hope_,
East_hope_, Millic_hope_, Middle_hope_, Wilder_hope_, _Hope_say, and
_Hope_ Bowdler, that signification appears to be a recess, or place
remote between the hills. Easthope is a rural little village about two
miles beyond Ipikin’s Rock, pleasantly situated in one of these long
natural troughs which follow the direction of Wenlock Edge.
It appears to have been within the Long Forest, and is mentioned in
Domesday as being held in Saxon times by Eruni and Uluric; it was
afterwards held by Edric de Esthop, and others of the same name. There
was a church here as early as 1240, and in the graveyard, between two
ancient yews, are two tombs, without either date or inscription, in which
two monks connected with the Abbey of Wenlock are supposed to have been
interred.
Near Easthope, and about midway between Larden Hall and Lutwyche Hall, is
an enclosure comprising about eight acres, or an encampment, forming
nearly an entire circle, surrounded by inner and outer fosses. The
internal slope of the inner wall is 12 feet, and externally 25, while the
crest of the parapet is 6 feet broad. The relief of the second vallum
rises 10 feet from the fosse, and is about 12 feet across its parapet.
There is also a second ditch, but it is almost obliterated. It is
supposed to have been a military post, forming an important link in the
chain of British entrenchments which stretched throughout this portion of
the county. Near it a mound resembling a tumulus was opened some years
since by the Rev. R. More and T. Mytton, Esq., and in or near which a
British urn of baked clay was discovered, on another occasion, while
making a drain.
D.—_Page_ 66.
“Proavus meus Richardus de isto matrimonio susceptus uxorem habuit
Annam Richardi dicti Forestarii filiam qui quidem Richardus filius
erat natu minor prænobilis familiæ Forestariorum (olim Regiorum
Vigorniensis saltûs custodum) et famoso Episcopo Bonnero a-Secritis
Hic Suttanum Madoci incolebat, et egregias ædes posuit in urbicula
dicta Brugge, sive ad Pontem vel hodie dictas Forestarii Dementiam,”
E.—PEDIGREE OF THE FORESTER FAMILY, _Page_ 69.
In his “Sheriffs of Shropshire,” Mr. Blakeway in speaking of the Forester
family, says: “They were originally Foresters, an office much coveted by
our ancestors, which latter seems probable, from the fact, that on the
Pipe Rolls of 1214, Hugh Forester accounts for a hundred merks that he
may hold the bailiwick of the forest of Salopscire, as his father held it
before him.” King John, however, remits thirty merks of the payment in
consequence of Hugh having taken to wife the niece of John l’Estrange, at
_His Majesty’s request_. It does not seem clear, however, that Hugh, the
son of Robert, can be traced to have been in the direct line of the
Willey family, he having been ancestor to Roger, son of John, the first
of the king’s six foresters. The other, Robert de Wellington, the late
Mr. George Morris, in his “Genealogies of the Principal Landed
Proprietors,” now in the possession of T. C. Eyton, Esq., to whose
kindness we are indebted for this extract, says was the earliest person
that can certainly be called ancestor of the present family of Forester.
His sergeantry is described as the custody of the King’s Hay of Eyton, of
which, and several adjoining manors, Peter de Eyton, lineal ancestor of
the present Thomas Campbell Eyton, of Eyton, and grandson of Robert de
Eyton, who gave the whole of the Buttery estate to Shrewsbury Abbey, was
the lord.
Thomas, a son of Robert Forester of Wellington, in the Hundred Rolls, in
1254, is said by the king’s justices itinerant to hold half a virgate of
the king to keep the Hay of Wellington. Roger le Forester of Wellington,
who succeeded Robert, appears to have died 1277–8, and to have left two
sons, Robert and Roger. Robert had property in Wellington and the
Bailiwick of the forest of the Wrekin, and is supposed to have succeeded
his father, whom he did not long survive, having died the year following,
1278–9. Roger his brother succeeded to his possession, and held also the
Hay of Wellington, of which he died seized in 1284–5. Robert, the
Forester of Wellington, Mr. Blakeway says, occurs in the Hundred Roll of
Bradford in 1287, and is shown to have held the Hay of Wellington till
1292–3, when Roger, son of Roger, proving himself of age, paid the king
one merk as a relief for his lands in Wellington, held by sergeantry, to
keep Wellington Hay, in the forest of the Wrekin, &c. This is the Roger
de Wellington before-mentioned, as one of King Edward’s foresters by fee,
recorded in his Great Charter of the forests of Salopssier, in the
perambulation of 1300. He died 1331.
John le Forester, as John, son and heir of Roger le Forester de Welynton,
succeeded to the property, and proved himself of age in the reign of
Edward III., 1335. With John de Eyton he attested a grant in Wellington,
and died 24th of Edward III., 1350.
William le Forester succeeded his father, John, in 1377, and died 19th of
Richard II., 1395.
In 1397 Roger Forester de Wellington is described as holding Wellington
Hay and Chace. He died in 1402.
Roger, his son and heir, was in 1416 appointed keeper of the same haia by
the Duchess of Norfolk and the Lady Bergavenny, sisters and co-heiresses
of the great Thomas Fitz-Alan, Earl of Arundel.
His son and successor, John, died 5th of Edward IV. 1465, seized of the
lands, &c., in Wellington, and the custody of the forest of the Wrekin.
He had two sons, William and John, also a son Richard; and William, son
of the above, appears to have been the father of another John, the former
John having died without issue. John, in 1506, witnesses a deed of
Thomas Cresset, as John Forester the younger; he married Joice Upton, the
heiress of Philip Upton, of Upton under Haymond, and obtained the estate
of that place, which is still inherited by his descendants.
This John Forester first resided in Watling Street, where his ancestors
for several generations had lived, in the old timbered mansion, now
occupied by Dr. Cranage, but he afterwards removed to Easthope, whilst
his son William resided at Upton; and Richard Forester, alias Forster of
Sutton Maddock, secretary to Bishop Bonner, who built the old mansion in
Bridgnorth, called “Forester’s Folly,” which was burnt down during the
siege of the castle, when the high town became a heap of ruins, appears
to have been a son of John Forester, of Easthope; and Anthony Forester or
Foster of Sir Walter Scott’s novel, who was born about 1510, was a son of
his.
In the 34th of Henry VIII., 1542–3, Thomas Foster and Elizabeth his wife,
account in the Exchequer for several temporalities in connection with the
monastery of St. Peter’s, Shrewsbury. Sir William Forester, KB., married
Lady Mary Cecil, daughter of James, third Earl of Salisbury. He was a
staunch Protestant, and represented the county with George Weld, as
previously stated, with whom he voted in favour of the succession of the
House of Hanover, and the family came into possession of the Willey
estates by the marriage of Brook Forester of Dothill Park, with one of
the Welds, the famous George Forester, the Willey Squire, being the fruit
of that marriage. George Forester left the whole of his estates to his
cousin, Cecil Forester, of Ross Hall, who was allowed by George the
Fourth, whose personal friendship he had been permitted to enjoy for many
years, to add the name of Weld in 1821. Cecil Weld Forester, Esq., was
ennobled the same year by George the Fourth, who, when Prince of Wales,
honoured him with a visit at Ross Hall. He married Catherine, daughter
of His Grace the fourth Duke of Rutland, and was not less renowned than
his cousin, as a sportsman. His eagerness for the chase was happily
characterised by the late Mr. Meynell, who used to say, “First out of
cover came Cecil Forester, next the fox, and then my hounds.” A famous
leap of his, thirty feet across a stream, on his famous horse Bernardo,
has been recorded in some lines now at Willey which accompany the
portrait of the horse. He is supposed to have been one of the first who
instituted the present system of hard riding to hounds, and a horse known
to have been ridden by him, it is said, would at any time fetch £20 more
than the ordinary price. Speaking of the classic proportions of a horse,
and the perfection of the art of riding in connection with his lordship
as a sportsman, Colonel Apperley, remarked some years ago, “Unless a man
sits gracefully on his horse, and handles him well, that fine effect is
lost. As the poet says, he would be incorporated with the brave beast,
and such does Lord Forester appear to be. His eye to a country is also
remarkably quick, and his knowledge of Leicestershire has given him no
small advantage. On one occasion he disregarded the good old English
custom of ‘looking before you leap,’ and landed in the middle of a deep
pool. ‘Hold on,’ a countryman who saw him, shouted to others coming in
the same direction. ‘Hold your tongue—say nothing, we shall have it full
in a minute,’ said Lord Forester.” The Colonel added, “In consequence of
residing in Shropshire, a country which has been so long famous for its
breed of horses, he has a good opportunity of mounting himself well. He
always insisted on the necessity of lengthy shoulders, good fetlocks,
well formed hind legs and open feet; and knowing better than to confound
strength and size, his horses seldom exceeded fifteen hands. On anything
relating to a hunter his authority has long been considered classic, and
if Forester said so it was enough. Lord Forester will always stand
pre-eminent in the field, whilst in private life he is a very friendly
man, and has ever adhered to those principles of honour and integrity
which characterise the gentleman.” He died on the 23rd of May, 1828, in
his 61st year. He had, as we have said, ten children, the gallant Frank
Forester, as Colonel Apperley styles him, being one. The oldest was the
present Right Hon. J. G. W. Forester, whose popularity in connection with
the Belvoir Hunt is so well known.
His lordship, whose portrait we give at the commencement of this work,
and who is now in the 73rd year of his age, has added very much to the
Willey estates, both by purchase and by improvements, and is very much
esteemed by his tenantry.
The Right Hon. General Forester, who succeeded his brother in the
representation of Wenlock, has sat for the borough for forty-five years,
and is now the Father of the House of Commons. Whether out-door
exercises, associated with the pleasures of the chase, to which the
ancestors of the Foresters have devoted themselves for so many centuries,
have anything to do with it or not we cannot say; but the Foresters are
remarkable for masculine and feminine beauty, and the General has
frequently been spoken of by the press as the best looking man in the
House of Commons. Neither he nor his elder brother, the present Rt. Hon.
Lord Forester, are likely to leave behind them direct issue. The younger
brother, the Hon. and Rev. O. W. W. Forester, has one son, Cecil, who has
several sons to perpetuate the name of Forester, which we hope will long
be associated with Willey.
INDEX.
Abbot of Leicester, 15
,, Salop, 6
„ Tavistock, 15
Addison, 80
Albrighton red-coats, 30
Aldenham, 32
Alfred, 19
Algar, 19
Apley, 32
Apperley, Col., 84
Arrows, 22
Atterley, 22, 32
* * * * *
Bachelors’ Hall, 104
Badger, 52
Barons’ War, 25
Barrow, 32
Battle of Worcester, 26
Baxter, 65
Beacons, 168
Beaver, 4
Bellet’s, Rev. George, Antiquities of Bridgnorth, 66
Belswardine, 32
Benson, M., Esq., 48
Benthall, 32
Benthall Edge, 53
Bernard’s Hill, 23
Bishop Bonner, 66
,, Percy, 65
Bittern, 5
Black Toms, 182
Bold, 32
Boney, 167
Bowman’s Hill, 26
Bow, the weapon of sport and of war, 22
Brock-holes, 52
Broseley, 32, 40
Brown Clee, 96
Brug, 40
Buck, 16
Buildwas, 100
* * * * *
Cantreyne, 32
Castellan, 23
Castillon, 14
Cask of wine, 24
Castle, 22
Caughley, 32
Chace of Shirlot, 31
Chaucer, 46
Chesterton, 18
Chester, Earl of, 25
Chetton, 31
Childers, 88
Christmas Day, 38
Claverley, 25
Clee Hills, 39
Cliffords, 40
Coalbrookdale, 40
Coed, 19
Colemore, 32
Collars of gold, 9
Constable, 45
Coracle, 6
Corbett, 24
Corve Dale, 51
Cox Morris, 115
Craft of Hunting, 16
Cressage, 49
Creswick, 45
* * * * *
D—n the Church, 116
Danesford, 19
Dastardly devils, 157
Dawley, 58
Dean, 32
Deer, 31, 36, 37, 39
Deer Leap, 36
Dibdin, 141
Ditton, 39
Dodos, 4
Domesday, 71
Dothill, 65
Druids, 46, 50
Drury Lane, 144
Duke’s Antiquities, 28
Duke of York, 171
* * * * *
Early features of the country, 8
Earl of Derby, 26
Earl Dundonald, 171
Easthope, 49
Egret, 5
Elk, Gigantic, 11
England, The, of our ancestor, 79
Evelith, 66
Eyton, 58
Eyton, Sir H, 63
Eyton, T. C, 63
* * * * *
Falcon, 9
First iron barge, 170
Fishing a recreation for the sick, 7
Fishing an attractive art, &c., 6
„ practised by primitive dwellers, 5
Forest Lodge, 28
Forest Roll, 58
Forester, Brook, 76
„ George, 76
,, Hugh, 58
„ John, 63
„ Robert, 58, 60, 63
„ Roger, 63
„ Squire, 76
„ William, 73
Forester’s Folly, 66
Forster, Richard, 64
Foster, Anthony, Lord of the Manor of Little Wenlock, 64
Foster, Anthony, a different character to what Sir Walter Scott
represents him, 67, 68
Fox-holes, 52
Fox-hunters’ Christening, 120
Fox-hunting Moll, 121
* * * * *
Gammer Gurton’s Needle, 26, 29
Gatacre, 26
Gentlemen nearest the fire, 175
George Earl of Shrewsbury, 29
Goats, 25
Grant, singular, to John Forester, 63
* * * * *
Hangster’s Gate, 145
Harold, 48
Harpswood, 33
Hay Gate, 59
Haye, 60
Haye of Shirlot, 40
,, Wellington, 58
Hawking, 10
Hermitage, 26, 27
Heron, 10
Hill Top, 49
Hinton, 115
Honest old Tom, 89
Hope Bowdler, 49
Hughley, 49
Hugh Montgomery, 39
Hunting as old as the hills, 1
Hunting-matches, 61
* * * * *
Imbert, 40
Incledon, 143
Ipikin’s Rock, 49
Iron, 41
* * * * *
Kennels, 86
King Canute, 12
„ Edward I., 24
,, „ VI., 29
„ Henry I., 13
„ „ III. in Shrewsbury, 14
,, ,, III., 28
,, ,, VII., 29
„ „ VIII., 10, 63
„ John, 10
,, Richard I., 13
„ „ II., 28
„ William I., 12
* * * * *
Lacon, 73
Lady Oak, 49, 50
Larden, 48
Larry Palmer, 109
Latimer, 15
Legend, 20
Leland, 41
Lilleshall, 5
Linley, 42
Little Wenlock, 10
Lodge Farm, 36
Long runs, 96
Lutwyche, 48
* * * * *
Major Forester and his Volunteers, 159
Marsh and forest periods, 8
Maypoles, 86
Merrie days, 16
Mog Forest, 49
Moody, 11
Moody’s Horn, 127
Morfe Forest, 17
„ Volunteers, 172
Morville, 31
Mount St. Gilbert, 57
Muckley Row, 34
Needle’s Eye, 56
* * * * *
Oaks, 51
Offenders in forests, 14
Old boots, 138
Old Hall, 73
„ Lodge, 29
„ names, 27
„ records, 96
„ style of hunting, 84
,, Simkiss, 96
„ tenures, 41
,, Tinker, 96
„ trees, 50, 55
„ Trojan, 130
Ordericus Vitalis, 13, 18
Original letters, 90, 91
* * * * *
Parson Stephens in his shirt, 111
Parson Stephens and the poacher, 119
Pendlestone Mill, 57
Phœbe Higgs, 95
Pigmy, 88
Pilot, 88
Piers Plowman, 14
Prince Rufus, 13
* * * * *
Quatford, 21
* * * * *
Red deer, 30
Robin Hood, 23
Roger de Montgomery, 21
* * * * *
Savory, 92
Seabright, 130
Second Wenlock Loyal Volunteers, 165
Shade of Tom Moody, 146
Sherwood, 47
Shirlot, 34
Shipton, 51
Smallman’s Leap, 49
Smith, Sidney Stedman, Esq., 66
Smithies, 42
Sore sparrow-hawk, 9
Spoonhill, 48
Sporting priors, 37
Sporting visitations, 38
Sportsmen attend, 136
Squire Forester’s gift to Dibdin, 143
Squire Forester among his neighbours, 173
Squire Forester and the rioters, 177
Squire Forester in Parliament, 151
Squire Forester not a model for imitation, 177
Squire Forester notorious for his amours, 180
Squire Forester, Death of, 185
,, „ Extracts from the will of, 185
Stoke St. Milburgh, 40
Stubbs, 89
Sutton Maddock, 65
Swainmote, 24, 37
Swine, 20
Sylvan slopes, 47
* * * * *
Tasley, 32
Taylor, the water-poet, 60
Tevici, huntsman to Edward I., 12
Thursfield, Thomas, 44
„ William, 84
Tickwood, 100
Tom Moody, 122
Tom Moody’s last request, 135
Trencher hounds, 130
Tumuli, 18
Turner, 114
* * * * *
Venison, 35
Vivaries, 5
Volunteers, 158, 166
* * * * *
“Walls,” The, 18
Wastes, 25
Weirs, 5
Welds, The, 73
Wenlock (Loyal Volunteers), 159
Wenlock, 38, 152
Wheatland, 45
Who-who-hoop, 129
Wild boar, 29
Wilkinson, 114
Willey, 70
,, Church, 173, 186
„ rector, 118
,, Wharf, 170
Williley, 72
Wilton, 79
Windfalls, 35
Woodcraft, 14
Worf, 18
Wrekin, 55
* * * * *
* * * * *
PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., CITY ROAD, LONDON.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
_Price One Shilling_.
* * * * *
HANDBOOK
TO THE
SEVERN VALLEY RAILWAY,
With Twenty-five Illustrations.
BY J. RANDALL, F.G.S.
Author of “The Severn Valley,” “Old Sports and Sportsmen,” “Villages
and Village Churches,” &c.
[Picture: Illustration of from Severn Valley Railway book]
VIRTUE & CO., 26, IVY LANE, LONDON;
J. RANDALL, MADELEY, SHROPSHIRE.
* * * * *
TENT LIFE
WITH
ENGLISH GIPSIES IN NORWAY.
BY HUBERT SMITH,
Member of the English Alpine Club; Norse Turist Forening; and Fellow
of the Historical Society of Great Britain.
_With Five full-page Engravings_, _Thirty-one smaller_
_Illustrations_, _and Map of the Country_, _showing Routes_.
* * * * *
The following is a recent Review of the Book:—
“We do not know any similar kind of work, and we believe that it will
stand alone in the speciality of its interest.
“In addition to much adventure resulting from a nomadic life in a
foreign country, it contains descriptions of scenery, besides
information which may instruct the philologist. A carefully prepared
map shows the routes and camp grounds of the Author’s nomadic
expedition.
“The work, in consequence of the death of his late Majesty, Carl XV.,
on the 18th Sept., 1872, is dedicated by permission of his present
Majesty, Oscar II., ‘_In Memoriam_.’
“The work has clearly been undertaken at considerable cost, and the
scenes of travel described extend over nearly 2,000 miles of sea and
land traversed by the Author with tents, gipsies, animal
commissariat, and baggage, independent of any other shelter or
accommodation than what he took with him. In the course of the
expedition one of the highest waterfalls of Norway was visited,
‘Morte fos,’ and the highest mountain in Norway, the ‘Galdhossiggen’
was ascended. The book is cheap at a guinea, being illustrated with
five full-page engravings, all of which are taken from the Author’s
original sketches, or photographs specially obtained for the purpose;
they are beautiful works of Art, and are admirably executed by the
celebrated Mr. Edward Whymper, Author of ‘Scrambles amongst the
Alps.’”
* * * * *
LONDON: S. KING & CO., 63, CORNHILL;
AND 72, PATERNOSTER ROW.
* * * * *
[Picture: Decorative graphic with letters C S N on it, underneath which
is written Coalport]
JOHN ROSE & CO.,
_PORCELAIN MANUFACTURERS_,
COALPORT, SHROPSHIRE.
_Five minutes’ walk from Coalport Station on the Severn Valley and_
_Shropshire Union Railways_.
* * * * *
MEDAL OF THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, 1820.
FIRST CLASS MEDAL, EXHIBITION, 1851.
First Class Medal, Paris Exhibition, 1855.
FIRST CLASS MEDAL, EXHIBITION, 1862.
* * * * *
The _Court Journal_, speaking of the productions exhibited by William
Pugh, Esq., May, 1871, says—
“We do not think that any porcelain productions would equal those of
the Coalport works. The show-case that the owners exhibit
independently, and their manufactures, displayed by various firms,
have, in all instances, the highest merit. We are well aware we
shall be informed that our praise is but a stale echo, as this firm
is renowned of old for producing the finest china, having some
process of blending or applying chemical agencies known only to
themselves, and being celebrated over Europe for the beautiful colour
of the gold—a matter of course of very considerable consequence, as
it is used so bounteously in the ornamentation of china.”
In an article on the “world’s great show,” as the Viennese were pleased
to call it, the same Journal remarked—
“We have latterly challenged the continental world to compete with us
and to contend for equality in many branches of manufacture into
which art excellence and refinement of taste enter, and we have
carried off the palm. Neither Sèvres nor Dresden has of late years
compared with the best English productions. There is no doubt of
this; and most especially we might instance as successful rivalry the
progress that the Coalport Works have made. The marked patronage of
Royal circles on the Continent and at home for their productions is,
perhaps, the best proof of the truth of our statement. . . . They
have been especially practical in their catering for the Vienna
Exhibition, and met the foreigner at his weak point rather than
courted rivalry at his strongest. No nation on the Continent can
compete with the French as regards the painting, though Coalport
could and will challenge with every hope of success for the first
place when it comes to the question of rivalry in design, exquisite
form, graceful ornamentation, brilliancy of colour, bright burnish of
gold, and tenderness of glaze in merely decorative porcelain works.
The specimens of this character which are sent will, we are sure,
worthily maintain the reputation of Coalport.”
* * * * *
The _Standard_ also, May 23, 1873, in an article on the “Ceramic Art,”
had the following:—
“Messrs. Daniell have so many good things from Coalport Works that it
would be difficult to present even a brief mention of them all.
There is one beautiful pair of vases in imitation Cashmere ware which
Sir R. Wallace has already purchased, and the same gentleman has also
secured a number of plates delightfully painted by Faugeron with
exotic leaves. Two portrait vases of the Emperor and Empress of
Austria are of old Sèvres shape, the bodies being of turquoise and
gold, and the paintings by Palmere, almost miniatures in their fine
detail. Two gros bleu vases, with raised and chased gold
ornamentation and panels, choicely painted with birds by Randall, are
as elegant as a pair of jardinières, with a cobalt ground and gold
ferns and grasses in relief, butterflies touched up in bright enamel,
toning the otherwise too great richness of the dark gold and blue.
These are only a few of the attractions of one of the finest, though
not largest, cases in the section. Messrs. Pellatt exhibit some
Coalport ware, which is in every respect worthy of the high repute of
that renowned manufactory.”
* * * * *
MARBLE AND STONE WORKS, SWAN HILL, SHREWSBURY.
* * * * *
R. DODSON
Respectfully begs to intimate that the Show Rooms contain a large
collection of
MARBLE, STONE, & ENAMELLED SLATE CHIMNEY PIECES,
MARBLE AND STONE MURAL MONUMENTS,
CEMETERY AND CHURCHYARD MEMORIALS,
FONTS, FOUNTAINS, VASES, SLATE CISTERNS,
&c. &c. &c.
_Designs forwarded for inspection_; _and communications by letter will_
_receive immediate attention_.
* * * * *
THE COALBROOKDALE CO.
MANUFACTURERS OF ALL KINDS OF
BRICKS AND TILES,
RIDGING, FLOORING,
FIRE BRICKS, SQUARES, CHIMNEY
TOPS, &c.
* * * * *
_PRESSED & MOULDED BRICKS_
FOR FACING STRING COURSES,
And other Architectural Purposes, in Blue, White,
and Red.
* * * * *
_ALSO PLAIN AND ORNAMENTAL_
RADIATING ARCH BRICKS,
FOR WINDOWS AND OTHER OPENINGS,
IN THE ABOVE COLOURS.
* * * * *
FLOWER POTS, BOXES, PENDANTS,
&c.
* * * * *
ALL MATERIALS OF THE BEST AND MOST DURABLE DESCRIPTION.
* * * * *
CRAVEN, DUNNILL, & CO.
(LIMITED),
Encaustic & Geometrical Tiles,
JACKFIELD WORKS,
NEAR IRONBRIDGE, SHROPSHIRE.
* * * * *
PATTERN SHEETS, SPECIAL DESIGNS, AND
ESTIMATES,
ON APPLICATION TO THE WORKS.
* * * * *
Elementary Geological Collections, at 2, 5, 10, 20, 50, to 100 guineas
each, and every requisite to assist those commencing the study of this
interesting branch of Science, a knowledge of which affords so much
pleasure to the traveller in all parts of the world.
A collection for Five Guineas, to illustrate the recent works on Geology,
by Ansted, Buckland, Lyell, Mantell, Murchison, Page, Phillips, and
others, contains 200 specimens, in a plain Mahogany Cabinet, with five
trays, comprising the following specimens, viz.:—
MINERALS which are either the components of Rocks, or occasionally
imbedded in them—Quartz, Agate, Chalcedony, Jasper, Garnet, Zeolite,
Hornblende, Augite, Asbestos, Felspar, Mica, Talc, Tourmaline, Spinel,
Zircon, Corundum, Lapis Lazuli, Calcite, Fluor, Selenite, Baryta,
Strontia, Salt, Sulphur, Plumbago, Bitumen, &c.
NATIVE METALS, or METALLIFEROUS MINERALS; these are found in masses or
beds, in veins, and occasionally in the beds of rivers. Specimens of the
following Metallic Ores are put in the Cabinet:—Iron, Manganese, Lead,
Tin, Zinc, Copper, Antimony, Silver, Gold, Platina, Mercury, Titanium,
&c.
ROCKS: Granite, Gneiss, Mica-slate, Clay-slate, Porphyry, Serpentine,
Sandstones, Limestones, Basalt, Lavas, &c.
PALÆOZOIC FOSSILS from the Cambrian, Silurian, Devonian, Carboniferous,
and Permian Rocks.
SECONDARY FOSSILS from the Rhætic, Lias, Oolite, Wealden, and Cretaceous
Groups.
TERTIARY FOSSILS from the Plastic Clay, London Clay, Crag, &c.
In the more expensive collections some of the specimens are rare, and all
more select.
JAMES TENNANT, Mineralogist (by Appointment)
to Her Majesty, 149, Strand, London, W.C.
* * * * *
THE
OLD HALL SCHOOL,
WELLINGTON, SALOP.
* * * * *
RESIDENT MASTERS:
Principal.
J. EDWARD CRANAGE, M.A., Ph.D. of the University of Jena; Author of
“Mental Education;” Lecturer to the Society of Arts, &c., &c.
* * * * *
Head Master.
DAVID JOHNSTON, Esq., M.A., Aberdeen.
Second Master.
THOMAS WILLIAMS, Esq., B.A.,
(In Mathematical Honours) Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge.
Modern Languages Master.
MONSIEUR VIDAL, of the University of Louvain.
* * * * *
TERMS FOR BOARD AND LODGING.
(EXCLUSIVE OF SCHOOL FEES, FOR WHICH SEE SEPARATE CIRCULAR.)
PER QUARTER. £ _s._ _d._
Private pupils above 18 years of age, with separate 42 0 0
bedroom, horse riding, and other privileges
Ditto, without horse exercise, under 18 26 5 0
Boarders 12 12 0
Ditto, under 10 years of age 10 10 0
Separate bedroom for one boy 5 5 0
Ditto, for two boys (each) 4 4 0
Ditto, for three boys (each) 3 3 0
Washing, according to clothes used, generally 0 15 0
DR. CRANAGE’S undeviating aim is to train the boys committed to his care,
not only in mental acquisitions, but in their whole moral and physical
being; believing, that as much pains and unremitting attention are
required for the latter as the former. Attention is given not only to
the studies which the boys pursue, but to their recreation, games, and
amusements—upon the principle that almost every incident affords
materials for improvement, and opportunities for the formation of good
habits.
His main object in the intellectual culture is to teach the boy to think;
without omitting the positive work and hard study to brace “the nerves of
the mind” for the making of a scholar.
The system of rewards and punishments is peculiar, with the general
absence of corporal punishment; but the experience of more than
twenty-four years has fully proved its efficiency.
Above all, his desire is to bring them to Christ as their Saviour, and
then to help them to walk like Christ, as their example.
Dr. Cranage finds the most wonderful difference in the progress and
conduct of the boys committed to his care according to the measure of
moral support he receives from the parents and guardians of the boys. He
earnestly solicits their hearty and constant co-operation in his anxious
labours.
The skeleton Report will give a succinct view of the subjects of study.
The aim is to give a thoroughly liberal education, without too exclusive
attention to Latin and Greek. In the study of languages the system of
Arnold is considered admirable, but not perfect; the grammar is therefore
supplied, and iteration and reiteration of declensions, conjugations, and
rules to impress indelibly, by rote even, all the fundamentals are
resorted to. Latin, as the basis of most of the modern European
languages, is considered—even to boys not going to college—very
important; it is deemed also very desirable for _all_ boys to be able to
read the Greek Testament before leaving school.
Some objects are taught by familiar Lectures only, illustrated by
extensive apparatus; while many other subjects are occasionally thus
exemplified.
A report of each boy’s improvement and conduct is sent to his parents or
guardians eight times in each year.
At the end of each year the School is examined by the authority and
direction of the Syndicate appointed by the University of Cambridge, and
a copy of the Report is sent to the parents or guardians of each boy.
There is also an examination at midsummer by the masters of the school on
the work of the previous half-year; a report of which is sent to the
parents.
The boy’s Reading Room is furnished with good Periodicals and a
well-selected Library.
There is a well-furnished Laboratory for the study of Chemistry,
Photography, &c.; Dr. Cranage himself instructing in science in the
school.
A Museum is established for collecting specimens to illustrate natural
history, arts, and sciences, together with articles of virtû and
antiquity—the boys themselves being the principal collectors and
contributors.
There are three orders of distinction in the school conferred for
proficiency, combined with good conduct:—1st, Holder of a Certificate;
2nd, Palmer, or Holder of the Palm; 3rd, or highest, Grecian.
The School-house is delightfully situated within a mile of the
railway-station of Wellington; it is well adapted for its purpose, and
fitted up with the necessary appliances. The school-room, reading-room,
dining-room, lavatory, bath-room, and dormitories are spacious, airy, and
convenient; the playgrounds very extensive, and well fitted for healthy
recreation.
There is a swimming-bath on the grounds.
* * * * *
BUNNY AND EVANS
(LATE J. D. SANDFORD),
25, HIGH STREET, SHREWSBURY,
GENERAL PRINTERS, BOOKSELLERS,
BOOKBINDERS, STATIONERS,
Beg to inform the Nobility, Gentry, Clergy, and the General Public that
they have every facility for the execution of all orders with which they
may be entrusted with the utmost promptitude and on the most reasonable
terms.
PRINTING.
This branch includes the production of Maps and Plans of Estates, &c., in
Lithography; and the Letter-press Printing that of Pamphlets, Sermons,
Reports of Societies, Particulars of Sales, Posters and Handbills,
Billheads, Memorandum Forms, &c.
STAMPING,
in colours or plain, in the best London fashion.
BOOKBINDING,
plain and ornamental.
STATIONERY.
Note Papers from 2s. to 10s. per ream, Envelopes from 4_s._ per 100
upwards. Ledgers, Journals, and Cash Books in stock, or made to any
pattern.
* * * * *
_Bibles_, _Church Services_, _Prayers_, _and devotional books in great_
_variety_.
MAGAZINES AND NEWSPAPERS SUPPLIED.
* * * * *
URICONIUM.
Mr. W. Wright’s valuable and comprehensive work on this
ancient Roman city is still on sale at 25_s._
* * * * *
_ESTABLISHED_ 1772.
* * * * *
THE
SHREWSBURY CHRONICLE,
AND SHROPSHIRE AND MONTGOMERYSHIRE TIMES.
THE COUNTY NEWSPAPER,
And LEADING JOURNAL for Shropshire and North Wales, has the GREATEST
CIRCULATION through a most extensive district and possesses a wide-spread
influence amongst the most important classes of the community.
* * * * *
Best Medium for Advertisers.
* * * * *
Published every Friday morning by the Proprietor, JOHN WATTON,
at the Offices, St. John’s Hill, Shrewsbury.
* * * * *
EDDOWES’S
SHREWSBURY JOURNAL,
AND SALOPIAN JOURNAL,
(Established 1794.)
Advertiser for Shropshire and the Principality of Wales.
Published every Wednesday morning at the Offices,
MARKET SQUARE.
PRICE 2d.
* * * * *
EDDOWES’S JOURNAL is the only Conservative Paper published in the County
of Salop and is the recognised organ of the CHURCH OF ENGLAND, and the
Constitutional Party in the district.
It has a guaranteed circulation throughout the county of Salop and the
whole principality of Wales, and also an Advertising patronage amongst
Capitalists, Solicitors, Auctioneers, Merchants, Land Agents, and
Traders, SUPERIOR TO THAT OF ANY OTHER NEWSPAPER published in the
district. It also circulates extensively in the neighbouring Counties,
and will be found at the principal hotels and commercial offices in
London, Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, and other important towns. It
is thus UNQUESTIONABLY THE BEST MEDIUM FOR ADVERTISING, and affords a
safe and widely-spread means of publicity amongst all those classes most
likely to be useful to advertisers.
_Annual Subscriptions_, _free by post_, 13_s._; _if paid in advance_,
11_s._
* * * * *
_VALUABLE MEDIUM FOR ADVERTISING_.
* * * * *
THE IRONBRIDGE WEEKLY JOURNAL
AND
Borough of Wenlock Advertiser,
Published every Saturday. Price One Penny.
* * * * *
SCALE OF CHARGES FOR ADVERTISING.
Not exceeding 24 Words 1s. 0d.
Ditto 40 Words 1s. 6d.
The Charges above apply to the class of Advertisements enumerated below
and are strictly confined to those that are _paid for in advance_.
Situations Wanted. Apartments Wanted. Articles Lost.
Situations Vacant. Apartments to Let. Articles Found, &c.
PUBLISHED AT
JOSEPH SLATER’S STEAM PRINTING OFFICE,
THE MARKET SQUARE,
IRONBRIDGE, SALOP.
* * * * *
BRIDGNORTH.
* * * * *
CROWN AND ROYAL HOTEL.
FAMILY, COMMERCIAL, AND POSTING HOUSE.
_Every attention paid to the Comfort and Convenience of Visitors_.
BILLIARD-ROOM.
Post Horses and Carriages. Omnibus to and from each
Train, and Refreshment Rooms at Station.
T. WHITEFOOT, Proprietor.
N.B.—RAILWAY PARCELS OFFICE.
* * * * *
WREKIN HOTEL COMPANY, LIMITED.
WELLINGTON, SALOP.
* * * * *
FAMILY AND COMMERCIAL HOTEL.
* * * * *
EXTENSIVE LOCK-UP BAIT AND LIVERY STABLES, COACH
HOUSES, LOOSE BOXES, &c.
Posting in all its Branches—Billiards—Hot and Cold Baths.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES.
{10} Appendix A.
{28} Inquis. Henry III., incerti temporis, Nu. 6, 156.
{41} For additional particulars respecting this interesting tenure we
refer the reader to the Appendix B.
{49a} There is a legend that Major Smallman, a staunch royalist,
surprised by some of Cromwell’s troopers, hotly pursued over Presthope,
turned from the road, spurred his horse at full gallop to the edge of the
precipice, and went over. The horse is said to have been killed on the
trees, whilst the Major escaped, and secreted himself in the woods.
Facts and local circumstances concur in giving a colouring to the
tradition, and deeds extant show that the family resided here from the
reign of Henry III. to the time mentioned. See Appendix C.
{49b} See Appendix.
{63} In 1390, Sir Humphrey de Eyton, an ancestor of T. C. Eyton, Esq.,
of Eyton, was ranger of this forest.
{64} The Old Hall, which we suppose to have been the old hunting lodge,
the residence of Dr. Cranage, Watling Street, is another interesting
specimen of the residences of the Forester family, and of the style of
building and profusion of wood used therein during the great forest
periods. Dothill, now the residence of R. Groom, Esq., is another of the
old family residences of the Foresters.
{66} Appendix D.
{69} For a more complete account of the Forester family, we refer the
reader to the Pedigree given in the Appendix E.
{171} Lord Dundonald, who lived in the old mansion, still standing, at
the Tuckies, was an excellent chemist, and constructed some ingeniously
contrived ovens, by which he extracted from coal a tar for the use of the
navy, and which also became an article of general commerce.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Old Sports and Sportsmen - or, the Willey Country" ***
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