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I think this first article was wrongly named as Recollections of Rossendale. There are more articles in this series to follow.

The Preston Guardian
8 January 1876

Recollections of Rossendale
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)

The Aymology of this place is somewhat in doubt. Since Dr. Whittaker gave the derivation of the name, great light has been thrown on all such subjects. Suffice it to say, that the town is very old - quite as old as any in Lancashire, and older than most towns. It was undoubtedly a Roman station. A Roman road from Manchester to York passed the town, and another Roman road merged into it from Liverpool. This road came through Henswood, once the residence of poet Spencer, through Worsthorne, and down through Castic Clough, across the Calder and up to Colne, where there was a junction of the two Roman roads, the terminus being York. There was a divergence of the Roman road near Hacking Boat, and it passed behind Mitton Church, and on to the county town of Lancaster, which was another old Roman station. Colne, for many centuries, carried its head very high ? the manufacture of hand-loom goods. Within the recollection of the writer, it was a more important town than Burnley. Tradesman often removed from Burnley to Colne, preferring the latter place. The town of Colne need not be ashamed of its position; still its size is like that of a minnow compared with a leviathan, in contrast with Burnley. The latter town as a Corporation and ? a member to Parliament, while Colne has only just been endowed with a Local Board of Health. In 1852 Lord John Russell proposed to yoke Colne to Clitheroe, but the sickly proposition died. The inhabitants of Colne - some of them at least - have tried to get the place enfranchised, but Lord John Russell thought that Colneites ought to "rest and be thankful" seeing that Colne was situated in that part of Lancashire which was very near to Yorkshire. The boundary of Yorkshire is not more than four miles from Colne. For a long time the precise line of demarcation was in doubt; but in a celebrated contest at York (under 43rd of Elizabeth) the immortal Harry Erskine carried the day, and fixed the boundary by showing that the dead body of a wayfarer had been owned by a particular township, and honoured with Christian burial-? compared with that of a dog. Colne has a parish church that flourished long before Whalley Abbey was thought of, and quite as soon as the foundations of Alsham Church were placed in the earth. It has a free grammar school, which was scantily endowed by one of the Edwards. The Wesleyans have had a thriving interest for about 120 years, and the Inghamites, the Baptists, and the Independents have had chapels in Colne for well nigh a century. The town has been one of the great centres of political and religious agitations, and it has not been a perfect stranger to the followers of Johanna Southcote and Joe Smith. Its cloth hall was opened about the beginning of the present century for the sale of ? goods, and woollen cloths. Merinoes of every kind and colour were woven in th district; they were three quarters wide, and, generally speaking, they were everlasting, and those of a verdant hue were green all winter; they were about 5s. per yard, but at that time ladies' dresses had only three breadths in the skirt; they were up to the neck, and down to the hands, a diamond back and a belt to, a walking width, and a striding width, and a good broad hem and a flounco too. The great characteristic of the district was the manufacture of genuine articles - no show, no foppery, no devil's dust, no resurrection wool, no filling of the fabric with all sorts of paste, and gloss, and artificial surface. It was long before the practice was introduced into Colne of selling union cloths woven in the warp of caddy sheets and filled with woollen weft made up from old stockings and mop rags that had first been battered into a paste and then manipulated into weft and attenuated to the fibres of a cotton warp, which in the end was finished and foisted upon a "discerning public" as woollen cloth, which would take more finish and present more gloss than the cloth made from nothing but woollen warp and woollen weft. A man had a Sunday coat which he wore on Sabbath days for a period of twenty years; then it was cut down into a round jacket for one of his sons; and subsequently into a spencer for one of the girls, and after facing the world for 30 years, it did service as the best hearthrug, after being cut into promising shreds. But this class of materials has given way to the advance of show and cheapness.
The traditions of the district are curious, based, many of them, upon real facts, and having attached to them "a moral" of a most interesting and instructive character. Take that of Mally Boys: she kept a roadside inn at Primet Bridge; formerly there was no bridge there; the Calder (a narrow stream) was crossed at the ford. For the last century the site of the old inn has been occupied as a genteel mansion. But time was when the said mansion was a genteel hostelry, and kept by Mally Boys without any impeachment of impropriety, and when the weary traveller and the honest customer were alone welcome, and the sheer tipplet told to go his way in peace and sin no more. Ruthless burglars broke Mally's house, and completed their villainy by murdering the good lady of the house. The murderers were never brought to justice, but the ghost of Mally often visited the old roadside inn. When a jolly company had assembled before the kitchen fire, and were enjoying potations of nut brown ale, they were petrified by the appearance before their eyes - upon the hearth before the blazing turf fire - of the skinned body of Mally Boys - that cruelty having been practised upon her before she yielded up her mortal breath. The tradition goes that Mally Boys, in revenge for the failure of justice, marked out a district for herself, which she surveyed and claimed exclusively as her own. If a lantern was carried through her dominion at night the light went out after entering her territory, and re-lighted the moment it entered free ground. The story is often told as proof of the existence of superstitions prejudice amongst our ancestors; but the fact is that to the story there was attached a moral, which has long been suppressed, viz., that God in all instances will hold inquest for murder, and that if murderers are not caught and punished the murdered will take steps to keep the enormity of the offence before public attention, and that if the crime of murder failed to be punished with the rigour of the law it would have to be kept in view to the disgrace and the disquietude of the district. more than half a century ago the river Calder was spanned at this place by a bridge, known as Primet Bridge; but at that time skew bridges were unknown, and however sharp the turn or elbow in the road might be, nothing but a straight bridge was possible. The bridge, and from this cause, has been the scene of several fatalities. In 1832 one Wilman threw over a coach here and killed several passengers; and later on a well-known whip, best known as "Red Rob," managed to capsize his "coach and four," and one or more persons were killed. This place, about a century ago, was the scene of an extraordinary riot. John Wesley was assaulted, and so was Mr. Attmore, one of the early Methodists, who preached against showy bonnets and dresses of gawdy colours, also bright and gilt buttons on mens coats. Mr. Attmore designed several schemes in the organisation of Methodism, and which are in force at the present day. A clergyman named Grimshaw, incumbent of Howarth, in Yorkshire, was thrown over a precipice, and it was feared that he as killed. He was, however, badly bruised. The mob drove the intended worshippers in all directions, and the scattered numbers took refuge at Roughlee, in Pendle Forest, a place made famous from its being noted as the head-quarters of the Pendle Forest witches. Grimshaw was a native of Hoghton, near Preston, and was in his day a famous revivalist, asking wayfarers whom he met on the moors to kneel down with him and pray. On one occasion, when the Bishop of York was preaching at Howarth, he contended that the congregation by grace were saved by faith, to which Mr. Grimshaw rejoined, after rising in his place in the church, "No, my lord, not one-half of them." His lordship meekly acknowledged the correction. Mr. Grimshaw is interred inside the little church at Luddenden Foot.

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Mel

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Most interesting, we look forward to further insalments !

Joe (Joseph) Smith was the first Mormon leader.

Rex

It's quite a coincidence that this reference to Joseph Smith should come up at the same time as we're hearing from Venita. If I have understood correctly the information about him on her fascinating website http://homepage.mac.com/venitar/home.html , Venita's Great-grandfather John Lambert, whose birth at Gargrave in January 1820 is in the records of Haggate Baptist Chapel, left England in 1840 to join the Mormons in Illinois and became a close associate of Joseph Smith, moving later to Utah where he prospered and ended his days.
http://homepage.mac.com/venitar/Genealo ... mbert.html
I hope Venita will not mind my drawing attention to her website in this way, but I think it's too interesting to miss!

Charon

The Preston Guardian
15 January 1876

Recollections of Colne
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)
Second Article

The number of old stories and traditions here are considerable. Every old mansion or ancient homestead has its "bogart story" or tragic tale. Emmott Hall is remarkable for its varied traditions. How many centuries it has stood is a matter of conjecture only. It was constructed regardless of expense. The best oak had been used in its panelling and wainscoting, and the different plans and designs of workmanship were really wonderful. There was an entrance to the roof, around which there was an observatory. The Emmotts have long since become extinct. At the edge of Emmott Moor there is a spring, walled round, and approached by nice stone steps. The water is clear as crystal. On two occasions within the recollection of the writer waterspouts from the clouds have connected themselves with this famous spring, which has had the effect of deluging the country for five or six miles down the valley, causing very considerable damage by the floods. Who that has seen Wycoler Hall in its complete state can ever forget it? It stood but a short distance from Emmott Hall. The little stream on which the hall stood was called Wycoler, and its Saxon etymology denoted the union of the cold springs with a running stream. Before the mansion tottered to its fall it had probably spread its existence over seven centuries. Several standard pictoria works have given engravings of Wycoler Hall when it stood in its pristine grandeur. Who built it or who occupied it at first is not positively known, but to the Cunliffes is attributed its early tenancy. This is problematical as the Cunliffes long resided in Billington at "Cunliffe House," - a homestead that is still in good order; subsequently they resided at Hallins, near Burnley. They were stout Royalists, and held Wycoler Hall, in Cromwell's time. That great Republican, it is said, sent a company of his soldiers to visit Wycoler Hall, on one of his journies out of Yorkshire - a circumstance that had been anticipated by Mr. Cunliffe - for like a hunter hard, or fox, he had gone away with his family into a hiding place, until Cromwell had held away south. A man was left in possession of the mansion decked out in a dress that is said to have represented many coloured mop cloths. This personage is said to have observed the Cromwellian soldiers advancing, when he left all the doors open, and sought ont of the chambers where an oaken chest was placed, the lid of which he threw open, and made it rest against the wall. In the centre of a heap of apples the man was firmly seated when the soldiers entered, but they could not glean any information except some fitful grimaces which denoted that the owner had gone away and bid the place a final adieu. After the soldiers had taken their fill of apples, some of which they threw at the accomplished idiot, they left the place without doing any irreparable damage. Wycoler Hall, however, remained in possession of the Cunliffe's until about the year 1825 when the last descendant died there. He was long an invalid, but a fine old English gentleman in his way, passionately fond of cock-fighting, like most country squires of his period. When he could not leave his room, he had the birds brought into his presence, where they engaged in mortal combat, to his great delight. Their blood besmeared the flooring, which being tongued would not admit of any outlet. By many persons it was assumed that this was the blood of Lady Cunliffe, who was said to have been murdered by her liege lord in a fit of passion. The cause and manner of her death never being inquired into, impolled, as the story goes, the spirit of the dead lady to re-visit Wycoler Hall, at the witching hour of night, and dressed in the rich robes of her earthly pilgrimage to walk round the ancient hall - her mortal wound and flowing gore being conspicuously prominent. She was always said to have a great partiality for the brink of a fish pond, by the edge of which can always be found the earliest snowdrops - firstlings of the infant year. Whoever had to journey through these parts were sure to give Wycoler Hall a wide berth. It would be a pity to spoil so choice a legend, but the writer knows a remarkable instance of a man being kicked to death, the circumstances attendant upon which were never inquired into, simply because the criminal and all the members of his family happened to be in the service of a magistrate. The heirship to Wycoler Hall was a lively question of debate and inquiry for a quarter of a century. Money was subscribed, and registers hunted up with great avidity. A very worthy man - Mr. Robert Cunliffe, of Blackburn - had several journeys to London to interview a well-known "Heir-at-law" society, but ultimately, about the year 1856, a meeting of the claimant's was held at the Red Lion Hotel, Colne, attended by Mr. W. P. Roberts, of Manchester. The possessor was asked by Mr. Roberts to show by what title he held the estate. To this communication a polite reply was sent containing the particulars of a mortgage deed, executed by one of the Cunliffes, and which settled all further sanguine expectations on the part of the claimants. Wycoler Hall is now in ruins. It has not been rated to the relief of the poor for the last half century. One of its stewards - long since gone to his final account - sold timber off the estate which realised £6,00, which he squandered in horse racing and dissipation, and subsequently spent his days in going about to public-houses with a violin, which he scraped for the edification of the customers, who would cast forth pennies or halfpennies. Another remarkable tradition of the district is that of being troubled with a familiar spirit. An old original, who had a familiar spirit, desired to part with it. He offered it to an old friend, who asked what the familiar spirit was like or where it could been seen. A meeting was arranged, and the couple repaired to a walk behind Colne Church, where the familiar spirit made its appearance in answer to a peculiar call. It resembled in shape a very small child with golden hair, but it never showed its face. The intended purchaser would not have the "familiar spirit" at any price. This tradition is surmounted with a moral that asserts that the constant pursuit of any criminal practice resolves itself into the form of a familiar spirit, ultimately becoming so burdensome as to haunt its devotee night and day. Many quaint epitaphs formerly existed in Colne churchyard that have been displaced for the purpose of carrying out something called "improvement." One tombstone had an inscription stating that two brothers named Boys slept underneath, who had been executed for having coined silver money. The bodies of the culprits were begged and brought to Colne, and the tradition is that they were innocent of the crime for which they suffered. One of them is said to have designed the following epitaph, which applied to both:-
Farewell, vain world, I've had enough of thee,
I do not care for what thou sayst of me;
My debts are paid, my thought are free,
Therefore prepare to follow me.

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Mel

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I found this link with pictures of Wycoller http://www.beautifulbritain.co.uk/htm/o ... coller.htm

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Mel

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Mel, you really must go there, it is lovely at any time of year. I think I am right in saying that unless you are a resident or visiting a resident, you have to leave your car at the carpark and walk down.
You MUST go next time you come up, I love it.

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Gloria

I'd be dangerous with a brain.

We will, it'll perhaps be one of the spring/summer trips although I do have my chocolate wellies!!

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Mel

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The Preston Guardian
22 January 1876

Recollections of Rossendale
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)

Article III

The Church is a very ancient structure, and it has been the scene of many curious incidents. A man had called the wife of his neighbour in Colne waterside, an unchaste name; he was served with a citation from the Consistory Court, at Cheshire, and he was ultimately condemned to stand in Colne Church during morning service for four consecutive Sundays. This ancient Court took cognizance of a variety of irregularities that were designated ecclesiastical offences. If it was discovered that a married man was holding himself out as a single man - paying his addresses to a single lady - he was sometimes "cited" to the Consistory Court - vulgarly called court of conscience - and sentenced to penance by paying a fine, or standing in the church covered with a white sheet; this kind of punishment being deemed much heavier than sitting in the stocks. The stocks, however, were put into requisition - sometimes - seldom - to punish footballers and perpetrators of other acts of Sabbath breaking, when caught redhanded. Another ecclesiastical custom prevailed which received its quietus in 1848 in the Court of Queen's Bench. This decision may be said to have settled the Easter Due question, especially in all places where the decision in question was known. When the Abbey lands of Whalley were sold there was the right attached to them of collecting mortuary from every person dying within the diocese worth £40, amounting to 10s. from Mr. H. Ayrton and Mr. B. Watson executors. The 10s. in question was formerly paid to the Abbotts of Whalley, for praying the souls of wealthy men out of purgatory. Mrs. Barker, in 1813, paid 10s. in respect of her late husband, Robert Barker of Southfield. The executors of Mr. Watson refused payment. They were summoned before the Bench at Clitheroe, and ordered to pay, and in default Superintendent Mc.Cabe went with police constables, and distrained upon the executors goods. An action for trespass followed at Lancaster Assizes, in which the Rev. Phillip Abbott and Jeremiah Garnett were defendants. The plaintiffs case was argued by M. T. Baines, Q.C., once the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. A verdict for 40s. for plaintiffs was obtained at Lancaster, which was appealed against, and subsequently argued in the Court above, when the Judges held that the defendants had not collected their mortuary in the legal way, and confirmed the decision of the Court below. In this great ecclesiastical struggle and victory Mr. Ewyd, of Honeyshaw, was an active and substantial sympathiser. The recovery of Easter Dues has since been held to be barred by the effect of the decision referred to. There were vestry meetings held at Colne Church, of a very excited character. Dissentients came from Barrowford and Marsden to resist the levying of church rates; in the matter of which the oppositionists were sometimes outside; but on one occasion, in 1838, the rate was refused. It included the repair of the church clock, and as the rate was refused the clock was at once stopped, and this incident gave rise to two local proverbs - "Like Colne clock, that stops without warning," which applied to persons who came to a sudden stand, or resolution. This proverb is now in frequent use. The second proverb was, "Like Colne clock you are always at one" - this applied to persons of stationary views who doggedly maintained the same opinions, or would never shift their ground however much the same was required by public or private policy. There was only one head constable, and he had one or two subordinates; but at one period the offences against life and property were so frequent, that in every township within the district, committees were selected, who had to assemble in turns to keep "watch and ward" over the peaceful inhabitants quietly sleeping in their beds, against the attacks of murderers and burglars who "made night hideous." Mr. Parker, of Hawkingdon Ridge, had been shot through the back by a burglar who had five companions. The house was plundered, but not before two watch dogs had been shot. There were other persons in the house who durst not move hand or foot. No one was ever arrested or brought to justice, for this dreadful outrage. Hawkingden Ridge is a very ancient homestead. The key to its name will be found in "Manwood's Game and Forest Laws." The forest was once possessed by John o'Gaunt, and his retainers practised the sport of "hawking" thereon. Mr. Parker lived at the Ridge, in the valley, or wood, or grove, where hawking was observed. How poctical! There is an ancient highway from Lancaster to Halifax sixty miles in length, which may be traversed with horse and gig without encountering a single tollbar. The Corporation of Halifax have impounded the water at Widdup - the wide space of land behind the hills - and carried it to Halifax through a stone aqueduct underground. The starting point is near the famous hill of Bouldsworth. The Colne committee were staying all night in the little square prison in Colne-lane, when a cart heavily laden with the best broad cloth stolen from the warehouse of Mr. Sagar, at Southfield, passed the building where the vigilance committee were assembled - unobserved. The feet of the horses were heard, but the wheels being wrapped with straw sufficiently deceived the drowsy patriots in the lockup, who afterwards became the laughing-stock of the country. Again, when offenders were detected, it was not easy to get them prosecuted. The friends of the convicted culprits often levied some dreadful sort of "black mail" in the shape of taking life or limb, or by destroying property. There is a characteristic epitaph in Colne Churchyard. It affords a clue to the derivation of the name of an important district - Trawden. "Traw," in Saxon, is the plural of "trees." There is also Trawden Forest, which joins Lancashire to Yorkshire. The epitaph is, or was, on the tombstone of Henry Baldwin, of Colne Waterside, pawnbroker. It recited that he was born in Trawden Forest, and that he lived and died in Colne Waterside. It ran thus -
Like forest trees we stand,
And some are marked to fall;
The ace can smite at God's command,
And soon will smite us all.
The whole district was full of trees - in valley, wood, and grove. Other names in the country side bear Saxon origin, such as "Longroyd," meaning the long clearing - "Earroyd," the clearing where the ears of grain were made to grow. "Alkincoates," the mansion of Oddhouse, where those resided who were akin to the altar, probably men in holy orders.

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Mel

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I like the bit about putting footballers in the stocks. Would all three teams fit in (Fulham, Chelsea, Arsenal) (+Tottenham in due course ?)

Rex

Stephanie.

The Preston Guardian
29 January 1876

Recollections of Colne
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)
Article IV

The epitaph named in my last furnishes the key to the name of the district in which Henry Baldwin was born - Trawden Forest. Traw, in Saxon, would the plural of trees: trees in valley - wood and grove - are embraced in the name of Trawden Forest. Time was when it was a royal forest. It is the outside boundary of Lancashire, and adjoind the county of York. On its borders began the boundary of Clitheroes Wapentake Court, which in one direction went to Holcombe near Bury, and in another to Spotland, near Rochdale - thus owning a circuit wonderful and wide, and equal in extent to many a foreign kingdom. One attorney in Clitheroe made a fortune with issuing processes out of this court, which was abolished in 1867. For a debt of 1s. the costs could easily have been run up to seven or even twelve pounds. A chosen band of "limbs of the law" had their names inscribed on the top of the writ, which in the right hand corner was ornamented by a prodigious red seal. One of the missionaries of this court, which by one of the judges of the land was stigmatised as "iniquitous," was a tall, lank fellow, always dressed in fustian, in shape and style very like that of an old poacher, and having on an old beaver hat whose surface from top to bottom bent in all directions through old age. This fellow had once been left for execution in Lancaster Castle, but the judge said that as his execution would publish his offence far and wide it had better not be carried out. Ultimately the then High Sheriff struck a bargain with him that the Royal pardon should be extended to him if he would act as common hangman in future, and thus save the High Sheriff the trouble, who must have done it with his own hand if he had not found a substitute. Of all oppressions under the sun, the grossest and most reprehensible are those which are concocted and carried out in the name of the law. Happily for the present generation such legal exactions have become things of the past. There were in Colne some famous characters. Sir John Anderton kept the Hole i'th' Wall, and Daniel De Lacy Evans kept the Angel Inn; J. Hitchen, of Nelson, and J. Waddington, of Padiham, never filled a third glass to their customers in their lives. Sir John Anderton was a gentleman. He was a famous claimant to an earldom, which he never obtained; and Squire Mancknolls impoverished himself in helping Sir John. A wag in Colne once won a great wager. He said he had seen spiles driven into the bed of the river Hodder at Whitewell with a tub, and that while at Sir John Anderton's, of Colne, he had imbibed beer out of a basket. It was a quart pot surrounded with wickerwork. A famous character lived at Reed-row, who, although a pig butcher, could have recited political ballads and poetry by the hour. While on his pilgrimages he gathered wild herbs by the road-side, from which he made decoctions that cured formidable complaints, the secret of which cures he took to the grave. The first Wesleyan Chapel stood at the bottom of Colne-lane, facing the water side, but it was superseded fifty years ago. John Wesley preached in it when the gallery fell and fatal results ensued. Colne and its environs were the starting points of Wesleyanism, and were honoured by visits from Dr. Coke, Charles Wesley, and many other "stars" of the Methodist cause. The first "split" of the Methodist received favour in Colne: it was caused by the Rev. A. Kilham resisting the creation of bishops by the Wesleyan conference. A chapel built by his followers still stands at the east end of the town and time was when that sect had a regularly stationed minister. The early body of Methodists were a self-sacrificing body of men, very zealous, enduring much persecution and misrepresentation. The writer, on one occasion, went with Henry Wilkinson from Southfield to Burnley Lane Head. Wilkinson was a highly gifted man, and an eloquent speaker. The congregation consisted of seven persons, but the services were abruptly stopped by some mischievous persons having mounted the roof, and throwing a goose down the chimney.

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Mel

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The Preston Guardian
5 February 1876

Recollections of Colne
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)
Article V

Henry Wilkinson returned home over Marsden Height, down by Schofield, and up by Sheilfield, and down to Trawden home again, with a sad opinion of the natives of Burnley Lane Head. Under these repeated doses of disgust Henry fell away from his former zealous convictions; nor did he lead a perfectly sober life. He certainly was a highly gifted man, and in his palmy days it was a great treat to hear him preach or sing. He set his own tunes, and he was remarkably felicitous in starting the well-known hymn,
Thou great mysterious God, unknown.
The places that Henry would have to pass in returning were Schofield, meaning the coarse field; Southfield, that received the fullest supplies of the sun's rays; and Shielfield, a well-known hill, on which Mr. Walton erected a stone monument. When the country was unfenced, and cattle roamed where they listed, they were collected together at least once a year and branded with the owner's mark, so as to ensure identification. The farmsteads thereabouts have curious names. One is named "Ringstone Hill," pointing to Druidical times; "Ecroyd's," the oak clearings; "Herd House," where cattle were sealed; "Yeomans," where a gentleman lived; "Purse House," where the steward resided; "Windle House" denoted the spot where the grain was stored, or divided, or thrashed out. A large district of country was called "Catlow," the abbreviation of "Cattlehow," otherwise "Cattle Hill." The valley is known by the name of "Catlow Bottoms," through which there runs one of the prettiest trout streams in England, known as the "Wanrurden," viz., the waving, wandering, meandering stream that runs through valley, wood and grove until it joins the river Calder. In this stream, in the year 1833, Orange Dent caught a trout that weighed two pounds and two ounces. At Southfield there was preserved for some scores of years a long correspondence that took place between Mr. Sagar, the founder of the woollen cloth works at Southfield, but it was never published. The influence that Wesley exercised was overwhelming. One instance of devoted attachment deserves special notice. A woman named Kershaw, who lived on Lancashire Hill, at the last house in the county - where the rude inhabitants followed the sale of beer and spirits without license, keeping "hush shops," and were in many other respects cheaters of justice - resolved to hear Wesley. Her husband asked her what she was going to do, when she replied that she was going to Colne - five miles. She had, she said, served her husband faithfully during the week, and she would serve her God on the Sunday by going to hear Wesley. She went a distance of five miles, and returned, carrying in her arms a child three years of age. The notorious Walker Moore sprung from this locality. Moore almost cut his wife's head off in April, 1861, at Bleak Lane Head, a roadside public-house of the rudest and most original character. The roof was not underdrawn, and all the sleeping apartments were without partition - a fact that had a poisonous effect upon Moore's mind, who had been set wrong by an acquaintance, and who was suffering from delirium tremens at the time of the murder. He was sentenced to death at Lancaster Assizes in August, 1861. On the morning of the execution he drowned himself in the water closet. There was another preacher besides Wesley who exercised great influence in Colne - the Rev. Mr. Cheadle. He was curate at the Parish Church, and was an indefatigable temperance reformer, an active coadjutor with Mr. Livesey, Mr. Grubb, Mr. J. S. Buckingham, M.P. for Sheffield, who was paid £10 for one's lecture; Anderton, the poet, was also a great favourite, giving such pieces as
No more shall these picture signs
Dazzle mine eyes;
It's brass, lads, brass.
and
Up and be doing, lads,
Stop all this brewing, lads,
Till the wide ruin, lads,
Settles in hell.
For a long time Colne was the head-quarters of the Temperance reformation. All its pioneers are gone except Mr. Livesey. Mr. Cheadle subsequently became Vicar of Bingley, Yorkshire, but through family misfortune he was induced to leave the total abstinence cause. But while in Colne he worked out an immense change in the social habits of the people. He was presented with a silver tea service in recognition of his great public worth. The successor of John Wesley, in Colne district - the man on whom his mantle may be said to have fallen - was Wm. Dawson, familiarly known as Billy Dawson. He was a highly-gifted man, and perhaps the most eloquent preacher of his time. He was a bachelor, dressed in a black lapelled coat, single-breasted vest, drab small clothes, and yellow topped boots. His silk hat resembled in shape that worn by the "Friends." His breecheswere not held up by suspenders, but by the hip joints. The exciting preaching on one occasion caused his small clothes to fall rather lower than usual, when he stopped to pull them up, exclaiming at the same time that a lady had offered to buy him a pair of "gallowes" (braces), but he had refused the offer, having no occasion for anything of the kind. He was asked by the members of the Methodist conference to preach to them; in fact, they would not take a denial. Being "nervous" at the task of preaching to so many educated gentlemen, he said, after giving out the hymn and engaging in devotional exercise, that he had not a good sermon of his own, but he knew where there was a topper, and proceeded to read with great solemnity Christ's sermon on the Mount, and concluded therewith. His choice sermons were "The white horse," of Revelations, "The prodigal son," "He who soweth, &c.," and "David and Goliath." On the latter subject, when he was preaching, he described the tantalising conduct of Goliath, when a sailor in the congregation pulled out his knife and exclaimed "Stab the old devil in the heart!" The scene was of an extraordinary character. Something of the sort happened in preaching about the "Prodigal son," when Mr. Dawson exclaimed "Here he comes!" The effect was electrical, for the congregation rose and turned around to look at the door. Billy Dawson was a great admirer of Richard Oastler, and often spoke in the advocacy of the Ten Hours Bill, in his usually impassioned and eloquent manner. He was on the platform on one occasion when a speaker was told "Sit thee daen, and let Billy Dawson speik." Such an outburst of mirth followed that Billy and all the audience were convulsed with it. Dawson came to Colen in 1838 - in May. The spring was late; no signs of vegetation; the preacher put up an unexampled petition for a change in the weather, and one that was never forgotten by those who heard it. Besides, the times were bad - not a handloom weaver had been able to obtain warp and weft for thirteen weeks, and cottage houses in abundance had broken squares of glass filled up with rags and cop bottoms. A statistical account taken by Mr. Butterworth at the time showed that the average wages per week of adult weavers had only reached 3s. Poor rates ranged from 12s. to 15s. 10d. in the pound, and of the town Mr. John Addison said it must be the place alluded to in Scripture where it said "Thou shalt have the heathen for thy possession and the uttermost parts of the earth for thine inheritance." At Colne, in 1841, Mr. Dawson died at Messrs. Whittaker and Dixon's, where h was a visitor. He was taken by turnpike-road to Leeds. The Colne procession - a large one - went to Keighley and returned. The Keighley friends went on to Bradford and returned. The Bradford friends went to Leeds, where the length of the funeral cortège was swollen to upwards of two miles in length: Mr. Dawson often said that although London was the head of Methodism, Leeds was the neck and could turn the head which way it liked.

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The Preston Guardian
12 February 1876

Recollections of Colne
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)
Article VI

At Ball Grove and that district there were cotton mills almost a century ago. There was an old cotton mill at Carry Bridge, the machinery of which was of a very ancient character. Its proprietor believed in the potency of "charms" and "witchcraft." Whenever the machinery was out of order, Bill o'th' Hatter's was sent for from Burnley moor. Bill had been a pupil and a co-patriot to Limping Bill o' Radcliffe. Both were extraordinary soothsayers and earned lots of money. When cattle had been bewitched the author or authors could be told by Bill o'th' Hatter's. He could always set the machinery right at Carry Bridge Mill, and after he had laid hands upon it and gone through his incantation it was sure to "gee" afterwards. Mr. Sagar regarded Bill with profound awe and reverence, and paid him well; but Bill must have been a handy man at cranks, levers, cogs, and pendulums. His success, however, was never attributed to anything but necromancy, the belief in which just suited the superstitious notions of the day. A few miles higher up the valley, a boy of 13, named Elliott, hung himself on the bough of a sour apple tree, through being beaten with his mother. His father's horses could not draw him to Colne Church, so the story went, because "Auld Clootie" pulled back at the hearse. Those blessed with second sight vowed that they could see him. The boy's mother soon afterwards hanged herself. Two very powerful horses were attached to the hearse. Half-way to Colne Church they came to a dead stand, and fresh horses were obtained. After going a short distance they cried "No go." Another beam was yoked with similar results. The strength of men and ropes was resorted to, and with a solitary chain horse, men being in the shafts of the hearse, the body of the poor suicide was brought through Colne at eleven o'clock at night. The lamps were burning, and the funeral service read by candle light in Colne Churchyard. The sight was ghastly and revolting, and "Auld Clootie" was the personage who had held back the hearse. But perhaps the rational solution is that the horses, being very sensitive in their smell, had sniffed some of the exhalations from the dead body, through its having been kept a long time, and were so startled that they refused to be any longer hooked up and travel with the bad smelling business. A well-known "witch" travelled the country - at least she had that evil reputation. She hawked goods about the country in a basket long after she was 60 years of age. She was a short woman with a fair complexion, and had naturally a stooping gait. Wherever she called something dreadful was anticipated. One of her calls was at Rushton's, at Height Side. They were churning, and immediately after her departure it was discovered that the milk would not break, and the only way to break the evil spell was to carry the churn, milk, and all to "another person's land;" but as the nearest point was a quarter of a mile away, the lifting, groaning, and swearing caused the utterance of lots of "devil's prayers." The required journey being completed, the milk was looked at and churning renewed, but the milk broke directly, because fresh air had been let in. But Miss Rushton wished that a kettleful of boiling water might fall upon Sal o'Trent (Sarah Heys) that night; that happened to her and she died, and was to be buried at Colne Church. Her body was crooked, and she had to be crushed into her coffin - a deal, shallow coffin - at the expense of the parish. Sons, daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren followed the corpse of the noted woman. The coffin was rudely lowered, the lid came off, the corpse, like a bent body, returned to its crooked attitude, appeared to be sitting up quite naturally. One of the granddaughters, by no means a young woman, said to her niece, "Run home, and set the kettle on and make the tea ready, for grandmother has come again," and tea was prepared accordingly. But the gravedigger, with rude hands, again bent the body, and perforce closed the coffin lid, and consigned altogether to mother earth. A very curious legend is attached to Heirs House, a genteel mansion near to Alkincoates. The heir to it, a century ago, was lost - murdered, no doubt. It involved the whole story of the lost heir. No rest or quietude could be had for the inmates. The strangest, the most indescribable noises were heard in every part of the dwelling. Locks, and bolts, and contrivances to keep the doors fastened were useless, and on several occasions the water used by the washerwoman was suddenly transformed into blood. These facts were vouched for by a highly respectable and clever local preacher at the time. The sequel was, that the house was deserted, and remained untenanted for many years. After the death of Captain Parker and his sister, a celebrated recipe to cure the bite of a mad dog was compounded by John Rushton, of Ings. It resembled brayed brick and water. It had to be taken fasting; and butter, salt, and beer had to be avoided for a fortnight. Many persons suffering from the bite of a rabid dog have taken the medicine - within twenty-four hours - and have lived forty or fifty years afterwards. Dog madness was, in our forefathers' days, as great an object of dread as now; indeed, the writer remembers a poor woman who had arrived at a stage of great suffering, and she was smothered between two feather beds to put a period to her paroxysms and pain. It is believed that the recipe in question had been attached to Alkincotes - commonly called Colne Edge for many centuries. It was a heirloom in the Parker family. When taken in time it was never known to fail. The Parkers were related to the Parkers of Browsholme. They were related to the Ribblesdales. One John Parker was member for Clitheroe for a long time. The last of the Browsholme Parkers was Thomas Lister Parker, Esq., a great character in his way, literary and otherwise, who died at the Star Hotel, Manchester. He had a theatre fitted up at Browsholme Hall, and had the stars of the stage there. He had guideposts fixed between Manchester and Browsholme inscribed "This way to Browsholme." Judge Parker was a frequent visitor at Browsholme - one of the most delightful nooks in the world; and so is Alkincotes. One of the Parkers was groom of the stall in the Royal household in the reign of George IV, William IV, and the beginning of Victoria's time. After the death of Captain Parker - a thoroughly jolly fellow - and his lamented sister, Alkincoates became tenanted by Captain Atherton, a military hero, who had married into the family. He stopped up an old road by digging a great pit in the middle. A most singular incident happened afterwards which put the locality into a roar of merriment. Mr. Thomas Thornber, junior, who owned two noted racehorses named "Fanny Grey," and "Grey Fanny," had a very fine black Newfoundland dog, whose wont was to take an airing through the shady lanes through Alkincotes and Heirs House. In one of "his days out," passing on the forbidden lane, he met the gallant captain, Atherton, with his golden-headed cane under his arm. Whether quadruped thought that biped was going to leave "the mark of Cain upon his brow" is unknown, but a spring from the ground alighted on the captain's bosom, and brought him flat to the surface of the road. Quick as thought, the dog made the gallant hero's prostrate form into his bed, and every time an eneasy motion was made, the dog showed his ivory, shouting, hollowing, and every kind of call was unheard by the busy world outside, and no appeal availed for "Caesar" until he had laid a clock hour, when, having exacted tribute, he released his prisoner. Mr. Thornber received a letter threatening all sorts of indictments with a polite intimation from the captain that if he had had a loaded pistol he would have shot the dog. The details of "Caesar's" little game caused Mr. Thornber to laugh while laughing was of no further use. Mr. Thornber sen., was a noted maker of handloom cloth, the father of the trade in that line, but there were factories flourishing in the neighbourhood of Trawden in his time - Cockshutt's, Bullock's, and Garth's. The last named gentleman employed numbers of apprentices, whom he had obtained from the foundling hospitals of London, in answer to such advertisements as "Wanted, at Colne, in Lancashire. a number of boys and girls, from workhouses or elsewhere, to be employed in a cotton mill; for every 19 sound and healthy children one blind one and one cripple will be taken." Manchester agents sometimes negotiated these matters.

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The Preston Guardian
19 February 1876

Recollections of Colne
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)
Article VII

Having heard a medical gentleman state that there never was any specific for the bite of a mad dog, I beg to say that when taken in time the remedy compounded from the Alkincotes recipe was always successful. Henry Dent, of Netherwood, was bitten with a mad dog at Ringstone Hill. With difficulty he reached Colne, where he sawllowed the medicine and died forty years afterwards a sound man. George Halstead, of Wood Gates, Billinge, was bitten at Dobson Syke, 30 years ago, by a rabid dog, so mad, that after being hit by a gun, it put a period to its existeuce by tearing out its intestines. George is still in the flesh and very well. A lime burner at Chatburn had the back of his hand laid open with a rabid dog; he went to Alkincotes for the medicine and nothing has since happened to him. The Wesleyans had a very old preaching place at Laneshaw Bridge, which was not far from Garth's factory. The old Saxon feeling in the country side rose up in rebellion against the importation of so many children int the neighbourhood who never knew the fondling embrace of a parent. Some of them are still to be found, but in the "sere and yellow leaf," who speak the idioms of the south of England. Taskmasters were placed over them, who were naturally unkind to anyone, but especially to the poor creatures committed to their care; resorting miserable subterfuge of stunting them of their proper supply of food, so much so, that they would stealthily go to the place where the pigs were being fattened, and abstract meal balls to satisfy the cravings of hunger. One overlooker was known to have chased some of the apprentices who had run away, and was said to have employed dogs for the purpose that had been suckled at a woman's breast in order to give them the true scent in chasing human beings. To the preaching place at Laneshaw Bridge came Jonathan Saville, a very extraordinary preacher, and Sammy Hicks, immortalised as "the village blacksmith." Sammy Hicks preached in the vigorous style for which he was so famous. He let go the thread of his sermon, and made a dead set at William Mason. He pointed to him, and in effect said:- "Repent thee of thy sins, thou miserable old slave driver, thou who had freely dedicated thy wicked life to the persecution of the poor children committed to thy care by thy earthly master, but He who knows when a sparrow falls to the ground will surely call thee to account. Thou art grown grey in sin, get thee home, and read the 12th Chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians." The congregation thought the rebuke richly merited; but not so William Mason; he went home sadly grieved, and for days and days he cried at intervals, at the fact of being singled out by the preacher. He never "looked up" afterwards, but died a penitent death. An old woman was also saluted by the preacher - "go thou to the sale of thy pomegranates. Thy treasure is in what thou seilest, where the treasure is there will be the heart also." The old woman, being stung to the quick, rose and said "He means that I sell sweet stuff on Sundays," and sat down again. William Darney's voice was then heard at Laneshaw Bridge, Wyecoler, and Frawden. He had been in prison for street preaching many times. He went to Southfield, to Mr. Sagars, and took refuge - preaching in the field chapel, and when in the house acting as body servant to Mr. Sagar. A guest, who had been at the service, was amazed at the preacher coming to pull his boots off. The early heads of the Methodist body, were the Sutcliffes, of Willow Hall, near Halifax; Wilkinson's, of Broad Bank; Mr. William Sagar, Southfield; and Christopher Lister, of Colne, ironmonger. William sagar, jun., used to go to Colne, to teach the Sunday scholars. He would go on a Sunday morning on horse back, wearing a riding cap and carrying a huge horse whip. It was his pride to ride at full gallop down a stepp irregular hill, called "Lenches." When he had dismounted he went to the school, all the way to which he cracked his whip, whereupon the scholars would dart into their seats with all possible speed. Service was then held in the old chapel, which gave way when Wesley was preaching there. A lady of affluence (Miss Foulds, of Trawden,) was in the chapel. During the commotion in the chapel, she called out in the wildest alarm, £100 for any one who will save my life; £100 for any one who will rescue me." She was, however, saved, and without the payment of a single fraction. Miss Foulds had many poor relatives in the country, but she adopted a boy named James Pilling, who subsequently took the name of Foulds by patent. In 1837 he was made a magistrate by the Whigs, and in the terrible times of 1839, he signed warrants for the apprehension of Feargus O'Connor, Dr. Taylor, Dr. McDouall, and a host of others. For some years he was chairman of the county magistrates in Lancashire and Yorkshire; subsequently he became a great railway director; at last he left the country to sojourn in the Isle of Man, where in the town of Douglas his lifeless body was found in the streets. The travelling preachers of the district were sometimes called "riding preachers," through a horse being kept for them, and sometimes "round preachers," through their having a stated round to travel through. There was Mr. Bumstead, who wore woollen cord breeches and leggings, and had all the soft manners and accomplishments of a perfect genleman. The same may be said of Mr. Skelton, Mr. Walker, Mr. Merrill, Mr Thomas Hickson, Mr. James Hickson, and a host of others. The last-named gentleman possessed much persuasive eloquence - made a great reputation, and has often been the subject of warm eulogiums by the present Bishop of Manchester. Robert Thomas Wroe Walton, of Marsden Hall, was a warm supporter of Methodism, although a Churchman. He had the presentation to the living of Altham Church, a sacred edifice that was built long anterior to the Abbey of Whalley. The township takes its name from being the home of the altar. It boasts a long line of illustrious incumbents. One of its owners was Canon Wroe - of whom Mr. Walton was a descendant. Canon Wroe in the 16th century removed to Manchester, when he was appointed a prebend of Chester, and was enabled to give a good account of his wardenship. He preached the funeral sermon of the Earl of Warrington, and the Countess of Warrington. A special sermon was preached by him on the death of Queen Ann. during Canon Wroe's ministry the Church enjoyed tranquility. He had "seals to his ministry and souls for his hire." Fitting memorials in Manchester Cathedral record the public worth of this most excellent divine. The Rev. Thomas Jolly, incumbent of Altham, was one of the two thousand ejected ministers of 1662. Ultimately he established a chapel under Pendle Hill, and had contrivances for evading the Conventicle, and the Five Mile Acts; but not before he had served imprisonments in Preston, Skipton, York, Lancaster, and other places, to which he had been committed by the Nowells, of Read, the Starkies, the Grimshaws, the Rigbyes, the Knowles's, and the Kirbys. Once upon a time Jolly was tried before the notorius Judge Jeffries. Jolly's chapel has just fallen in, and chairs and articles of furniture have been made out of the pulpit; but a memorial chapel will shortly be erected in a central situation.

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The Preston Guardian
26 February 1876

Recollections of Colne
(By an old East Lancashire Man.)
Article VIII

It is impossible to over estimate the value of the sacrifices made by such men as the Rev. Thomas Jolly, on behalf of liberty, humanity, and fraternity. Thomas Walmsley lived under Wiswell Moor, where a stream of water, clear as crystal and cold as death, runs over the carriage way that leads to the front door, at the end of a massive porch. The fine old mullioned windows still remain, and the house is sheltered from the biting ? wind by some stately beech trees, the growth of many centuries. This was Walmsley's mansion for many years. When he went the circuit, he was Recorder of Clitheroe, and represented the borough in Parliament. Returning from Lancaster Assizes one time he was attacked with "jail fever," and took a little public-house as his consulting room, opposite the church gates, Blackburn, where he had to obey a writ of summons issued by the supreme Judge of mankind. A very plain tombstone marks the spot where Judge Walmsley's bones have lain for the last two centuries. The Rev Thomas Jolly told a dismal story about Walmsley, and it is rather remarkable that some of the families so eager to put Jolly in prison lost some their "crack" members through bing executed for high treason. But more of this anon when Recollections of Great Harwood are reached. The men of that day realised the fact:-

-Loyalty! truce, we're on dangerous ground,
Who knows how the fashions may falter;
The doctrine to-day, which is loyalty's sound,
To morrow may bring us a halter.

But to return to Mr. Walton, of Marsden Hall. It may be explained that he was a gentleman who held a very fine estate at the top of Great Marsden, on which he expended any thousands of pounds. So profusely did he expend his money that he was frequently compelled to stay operations until his rent day came round. He adopted Sir ? Waterton's plan of placing wirework on the trees ? the hall and having 'dummie' pheasants. He placed many stone statues and works of art around the premises, at a great cost to himself, besides devoting large sums of money to benevolent objects - social, educational, and religions. His character was alike unimpeached and unimpeachable; holding his property in trust for the benefit of the poor, the aged, the infirm, and the destitute, and seeing tha no worthy institution suffered for want of funds. If he happened to have any money in his purse he would frequently go in his carriage to Lane, Straw Bridge, Burnley, or Huncote, to join in the service, and never give less than a sovereign. Frequently he would give out the hymns and lead the devotional exercise - ? out of doors or on a cart or stage out of doors. On one occasion Squire Walton was standing on a stage near to Emmett Hall, when Squire Green was sitting in his carriage. Squire walton was giving out with great earnestness the words -

Lo, on a narrow neck of land,
Twixt two unbounded seas I stand,
Secure, insensible.

"Pull up," were the coachman's orders until the service was concluded. It may here be explained that emmett Hall contained numerous costly oil paintings by the oldest and best masters, but owing to the mansion being long untenanted, the rich frames had mouldered to decay - dropping to the floor. The persons in trust, however, to afford a good account of their stewardship, had picked up the paintings, and had transfixed them to the wall with nails at any place where a nail would stick. In the township of Altham, of which the celebrated Miss Becker is a native, there flourished a famous school - Highbrake - which was taught by the Rev. Mr. Wood, father of Mr. Wm. Hewson Wood, of Craigs, near Colne. Many of the best scholars of the day were taught upon this famous foundation. The Baptist Chapel, at Huncots, was just on the boundary of Mr. Walton's estate, and of all its charity sermons he begged to be apprized. The preacher - Rev. A. Mc.Phail - had got into trouble through lending his chapel for the purposes of a political lecture, so the Revs. D. Griffith and J. Harbottle thought it right to invoke State aid to the extent of obtaining an injunction to restrain the preacher from helding forth there any longer. This made not the slightest difference to Mr. Walton, who repaired a distance of twelve miles to Huncote to take part in the service and give a sovereign. Friends of Moravian missions, and many other kinds, "interviewed" Mr. Walton, and never went away empty. A Mr. Ellis went to him - not for money, but to advocate Robert Owen's twenty fundamental propositions - tenets which made a great noise at the time, and which cost its author £100,000 to promulgate. The Queen sent for Robert Owen, and he laid his schemes before her Majesty for the social reformation of society. His schemes were not swallowed by the Court, but his views for the ? were swallowed by the good natured Mr. Walton. It must not be forgotten that infants' schools received their ? advocacy from Mr. Owen, also the Ten Hours ? and Marriages at the Board of Guardians, were suggested by him. The religious intolerance of the Welsh people refused Robert Owen a resting place in the church yard of his native village. Mr. Walton of Marsden Hall, was appealed to by the promoters of many benevolent pro? (jects?), some of them real and others quite the reverse.

His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings but relieved their pain.
Too long remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruined spendthrift now no longer proud,
clained kindred there and had their claims allowed.
The broken soldier kindly bade to stay,
Set by his fire and talked the night away:
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shouldered? his crutch and showed how fields were won.
? with his guests, the good man leaned to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scorn,
His pity gave ere charity began.

It is true that on numerous occasions Mr. walton was ? imposed upon by a gang of remorseless rascal, was sometimes assembled in a snug corner, and by donning various disguises, managed to get monetary relief from him twice and often thrice, then return to their companions when the money would be spent in the vile game of pitch and toss. Of this sort of disgraceful conduct Mr. Walton was often told, but he never allowed it to interfere with the flow of his charity. -"To the pure all things are pure." At Walton-lane-bottom the great turnpike road from Leeds to Preston he put up an expensive sun dial. He died in 1844 when his extensive estates reverted to one Hallam, who had formerly been a "navvie." "Put a beggar on horseback and he will ride to the devil" was soon realised. The handsome carriage was thrown over and demolished, the horses were ruined in wind and limb, and the new heir came to a premature death. The fine mansion has for many years been converted into a provate retreat yelept Lunatic Asylum. The exensive hall and grounds now resound the senseless cries and screamings of imbeciles. The old "turnpike" is now nearly deserted, grass grows on its sides and slopes in profusion. -

Dean charming road neglected and decried,
Robbed of thy glory and thy pride.

The "Invincible," "The Tradesman," "Catherina," "Red Rover," and the "Royal Mail," which ran a quarter of a century ago, have joined the dreary mansiona of the dead, but they are not forgotten. It way jolly to see the Mail, which has been knnown to travel from Skipton to Manchester at twelve miles per hour, exclusive of stoppages. Of that flying equipage the writer can vouch for the truth of the following life like sketch of the progress of a mail coach:-

The old man and the maiden stand,
With staring gaze and idle hand,
The maiden smiling nods her head,
To the blithe old fellow donned in red.
No matter what they have to do,
They all must see the mail go through.
The inn is reached, host, men, and boys,
Gather round with bustling noise.
Few moments serve, the harness bands
Are flung off as by magic hands.
The loosened nags are panting hard,
Seeking the well known stable yard;
Forth came the wheelers, glossy black
With bit in mouth and cloth on back.
quick! bring the leaders, two bright roans
As ever spurned the wayside stones.
Each buckle bright - 'tis done "All right,"
The steeds are ready for their flight;
And old bluff John once again
Swings up to rule the whip and rein.
Onward we hie like shooting star
That runs all dazzling fleet and far-
and worthy sight for king to see
Are four bold coursers, fast and free.

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