Marching on Manchester, 1745 (Part 2)
Beppy loves 'the P' in his blue silk waistcoat…
Two weeks ago we looked over the shoulder of Lancashire doctor Richard Kay as he watched the Jacobite rebellion 1745 get ever closer to his stomping grounds in the Manchester area. Kay was firmly on the side of the Protestant King George II, against the “Popish Pretender”, Kay’s name for Bonnie Prince Charlie. But I can offer some balance, should you be of the Stuart persuasion, for there’s another diarist who write about the arrival of the rebels in Manchester that autumn.
Elizabeth Byrom was born in 1722 in Manchester, eldest child of another Elizabeth and John Byrom, also from Manchester and with roots there going back to at least the 15th century. John (1692–1763) is still known today at least to churchgoers, as the writer of the hymn ‘Christians, awake, salute the happy morn’. He’s an interesting character – known for being extremely tall, he studied in London, Cambridge and France, wrote poetry and briefly practised medicine, invented a form of shorthand which was popular for a century or so, and was yet another member of the Royal Society. He was apparently a Jacobite, although it has even been suggested he was a double agent, and indeed a member of a secret society. He too was a diarist, so that gives me a great excuse to come back to him another time.
But our focus here is Elizabeth, of course – known as ‘Beppy’ to her family. She, like her father before her, grew up in Kersal Cell, a 16th-century house in Salford which is still there today (and there are rumours of a tunnel under it). She was given an education thanks to a legacy from her grandfather Joseph Byrom, and helped to keep the household accounts, using her father’s shorthand system. And whatever her father’s true sympathies, she was definitely an admirer of the Bonnie Prince.
Elizabeth’s fragmentary diary was found at Kersal Cell and published in 1857.1 Whether she wrote more is unknown, but what survives covers the period from 14th August 1745 (“great talk of the Pretender coming”, she noted) until March 1746, and it mainly consists of a mixture of domestic details and her account of the Jacobite rebellion, which matches a lot of the detail of Richard Kay’s but from a different perspective. (In her diary ‘the P’ refers to Prince Charlie.)
26th September
The Presbyterians are sending everything that’s valuable away, wives, children and all for fear of the rebels.
12th November
… an express [has] come that the rebels are coming, and another that they are not, and so on.
14th November
My Lord Derby is come to town to have the militia put in readiness; they are all quartered in town.
16th November
An express is come… that Carlisle is surrendered to the rebels and the next day the castle. General Wade is gone to the relief of it, but went two days’ march and turned again; they were two days without any provisions. Captain Barlow has writ a most dismal account of them, that they are so numbed with cold and their limbs mortify and they die very fast. The rebels are come forward, General Wade is turned again to Newcastle.
26th November
They are at Preston this morning, came in there at ten o’clock, behaved very civilly; everybody is going out of town and sending all their effects away, there is hardly any family left but ours and our kin; they have sent their shops and shut up shop, and all the warehouses in town almost are empty; tonight the bellman is going about to forbid anybody sending provision out of town, for a great many have today.
They have pulled up Stockport bridge and Barton bridge, and we expect every minute they will begin at Salford bridge (they have begun at Cross street); if they do, some folks say they will set the fire bells of ringing to raise a mob to stop them.
27th November
The postmaster is gone to London today, we suppose to secure the money from falling into the hands of the rebels. The P lay at Lawyer Starkey’s [a barrister, and later Preston’s MP] at Preston last night: he has marched from Carlisle on foot at the head of his army; he was dressed in a Scotch plaid, a blue silk waistcoat with silver lace and a Scotch bonnet with J.R. on it. [Presumably for Jacobus Rex, in honour of his father James’s claim to the throne.]
Yesterday the militia was all discharged and sent home, but just in time before the Highlanders come—well contrived.
28th November
About three o’clock to-day came into town two men in Highland dress and a woman behind one of them with a drum on her knee, and for all the loyal work that our Presbyterians have made, they took possession of the town as one may say, for immediately after they were ’light they beat up for volunteers for PC: “All gentlemen that have a mind to serve HRH PC with a willing mind, &c, five guineas advance,” and nobody offered to meddle with them… the streets are exceeding quiet, there is not one person to be seen nor heard…
29th November
They are beating up for the P.; eleven o’clock we went up to the Cross to see the rest come in; there came small parties of them till about three o’clock, when the P and the main body of them came, I cannot guess how many. The P went straight up to Mr. Dickenson’s, where he lodges… There came an officer up to us at Cross and gave us the manifesto and declarations; the bells they rung, … and all the town was illuminated, every house except Mr. Dickenson’s; my papa, mamma and sister, and my uncle and I walked up and down to see it…
30th November
… I dressed me up in my white gown and went up to my aunt Brearcliffe’s, and an officer called on us to go see the Prince; we went to Mr. Fletcher’s and saw him get a-horseback and a noble sight it is. I would not have missed it for a great deal of money… when he rid out of the court he was received with as much joy and shouting almost as if he had been king without any dispute; indeed I think scarce anybody that saw him could dispute it…
2nd December
The north post is come in, and the boy told it as he came up that G[eneral] Wade was at Rochdale, which gathered a mob together, and by degrees they increased till they were got a little frightful, and went up and down town shouting and threatening to pull down the houses of them that are gone with them; papa went amongst them and several gentlemen, but they have broke Dr. Deacon’s lamp and windows. The next night a great many gentlemen met, and are to walk the streets to keep quiet, and so for six nights together.
7th December
Great talk of the Highlanders coming again; a man come from Leek [in Staffordshire] says they are come in there; been to see my aunt Ann, she is come home about eleven o’clock; a great hurry, they say there’s one come into town, they ran after him, have got his horse but he has got away; they are for raising a mob to stop them, they are ringing the fire bell as hard as they can, great hurries [commotions] in the street.
8th December
[Elizabeth reports on a public notice] “to all the inhabitants of this town that they are desired to rise and arm themselves with guns, swords, pickaxes, shovels, or any other weapons they can get, and go stop all the ends of the town to prevent the rebels from coming in for two hours, and the King’s forces will be up with them.” … all the country folks came armed with scythes, sickles, &c. of the ends of mop sticks, and all other kind of weapons and made a very great hurry all day. [The mob later returned “from their fruitless expedition”.]
[Reports continue of the Highlanders’ return, but on 10th December news comes that the Duke of Cumberland is on his way.]
11th December
The bells are ringing, for they expect the Duke every minute; now the bellman is going for everybody to provide for the army… [we] saw 200 horse dragoons come in, they are all that are come today.
[And so it was over. A week later Elizabeth comments on what people say about the Jacobites: “we have abundance of lies about them, they are killed, taken, surrounded, and got clean away all two or three times of a day.” Although the uncertainty continued for a while:]
23rd December
Two regiments of soldiers are come in today… They seem to expect an invasion about London; they have ordered everybody to drive all their cattle twenty miles from the sea side, and given orders for the lighting of beacons, and the train bands to be ready at the firing of seven guns at the Tower.
3rd January 1746
The Presbyterians have made two effigies of the Prince, one in his Scotch and one in his English dress, and carried them up and down the town and raised a great mob, which was headed by some of the great Presbyterian gentlemen, and went to all the houses in town where any were gone from and broke their windows… they were very rude and they carried their bunch of rags down to Mr. Dakenfield’s and the Justice out of his great courage got a gun and shot at it, and then it was brought into the house, and he wrung it by the nose, then his wife and daughter were introduced and had the honour to slap it in the face, and so on till they all were tired and drunk for all the heads of the Presbyterians were at the Angel and gave the mob drink; then they hung it upon the signpost then quartered it, then threw it into the fire; somebody threw a piece of it into the drink which put them into a violent passion.
As late as 7th January, Elizabeth notes “there is great talk of the French landing every day”, but the support the Jacobites hoped for never came, and news of them retreats ever further to the north. Some other time, we’ll hear from the Scots themselves and the forlorn end of the Jacobites’ chances. Elizabeth herself would live a long, unmarried life, eventually inheriting Kersal Cell, where she died at the age of 79 in 1801. As late as 1768, she was still supporting the not-so-Young Pretender, but a Stuart would never take the throne again.