England, it has been epigramatically said, is governed by reactions. There is more truth in the remark than is usually found in smart sayings. There is an ebb and flow in the political tide, the waves which thunder against the bulwarks and threaten to overwhelm the peaceful town beyond them, fall calmly back again to their sandy bed. An example of this phenomenon we have in the intense Jacobitism of Lancashire at the commencement of the last century. Lancashire was not without gallant cavaliers who charged for the “King and the Laws” behind the fiery Rupert, but the county at large swore by the Parliament and struck some hard blows at the “Lord’s anointed.” The memorable “petition for peace” was drawn up by a Manchester man, and the first victims of that civil war which was to drench England with blood, were inhabitants of that town. It was natural then to expect that the pendulum should swing right to the other extreme of its line, and that the descendants of those who had pulled down the monarch from his throne, and consigned him to the traitor’s block, should be sticklers for the right divine of kings to govern wrong, should risk fortune, life, and limb, to replace on the throne of his ancestors the double dealing James and his unfortunate descendants. There were some special causes which strengthened the hands of the Jacobites in this quarter. The Roman Catholics were distinguishable by their steady, unalterable loyalty to the House of Stuart, and the persecution to which they were subjected from the reign of Elizabeth downwards, only served to strengthen their attachment. The jealousy of the Low Church men, and the bitter antagonism of the Puritans was sufficient to defeat any amelioration of their condition which the Sovereign might desire, but in their sufferings they recollected that both Charles and his brother had been desirous of extending to them toleration for the exercise of their religion. The Dissenters, however, chose to endure the severities of the Test Act themselves, rather than do anything to hinder the harrying and persecution of the Romanists. The Roman Catholics had natural friends in the High Church men, who held in all fulness the doctrine of the divine right, and consequently the unlawfulness of the tenure by which King William and George I. held the throne. The clearness and distinctness with which this opinion was formulated must be considered if we would understand the motive power of the Jacobite rebellions.

According to them the King was God’s representative on earth, and unconditional obedience was due to all his commands. He might be a drunken, licentious scoundrel, a perjured villain, a red-handed murderer, a raving madman, but nothing on earth could invalidate his inborn kingly right, and whoso disobeyed him, was false to God and to his country. This opinion was supported by a second theory as to the patriarchal origin of monarchy. Adam and Abraham exercised regal power, therefore it was “unnatural for the people to govern or choose governors.” Charles II. is but an odd looking patriarch, although like the King of Yvetot, his subjects had a hundred reasons for calling him their father. However, as the learned O’Flaherty in his “Ogygia” tells us that the Stuarts were descended in a direct line from Adam (which is probable), and that it was the 124th generation that ascended the Scottish throne, Charles might perhaps claim his monarchical privileges as heir general of the Father of Mankind.

This leading doctrine of the High Church party was closely wedded to a sentiment of bitter dislike of the Protestant Dissenters. The impeachment of Sacheverell, the High Church clergyman, for his denunciation of the revolution of 1688, and of the principles which had brought it about, roused to fever heat all the evil passions of the time. His punishment (three years’ prohibition from preaching) was so slight as to be almost a triumph. In 1714 a bill for the repression of Schism was only prevented from coming in force by the death of Queen Anne.

The accession of George I. was a tremendous blow for the Jacobites, and in Manchester they went mad with rage. The Pretender’s birthday, Friday, the 10th of June, was fittingly selected as the time for wreaking their revenge on the Dissenters. On that day various places in England were disgraced by riotous mobs drinking health to King James, and breathing fiery vows of vengeance against the Presbyterians. The Manchester mob was second to none. The town was in a state of anarchy for days, and King Mob had it all his own way. With beating of drums they enlivened their marches, and with fiery potations inflamed their loyalty and piety. Woe to the luckless Nonconformist who came in their way! The riot was not unlike a rebellion. They had their recognised leaders: a colonel, whose name forgetful history has nowhere recorded; and a captain, Thomas Syddal, a sturdy blacksmith, the end of whose brawling life was not far off. They had the tacit encouragement of Jacobite magistrates, who left the rabble masters of the situation. The only Dissenting meeting-house in Manchester was in Acresfield, and is now known as Cross Street Unitarian Chapel. Headed by the valiant Syddal, these friends of the ancient constitution in Church and State attacked the humble meeting-house, and wrecked it completely. The bare walls were all the vestiges they left of the lowly house of prayer. So fine a performance did the mob consider it, that with infinite gusto they repeated it at Monton, Blackley, and in fact all the meeting-houses that fell in their way as they marched toward Yorkshire. Things were assuming so serious an aspect, and the local authorities were so unable or unwilling to check it effectually, that the Government had to interpose with a military force. It was not until there had been a fortnight’s carnival of riot and outrage that the Earl of Stair dispersed the Manchester band, and took prisoners its leading men. Occasional outbreaks in various places continued until the end of July. The House of Commons petitioned the King for the vigorous enforcement of the law, the punishment of neglectful justices, and the compensation from the public funds of the sufferers. The destruction of religious meeting-houses was declared to be felony without benefit of clergy, and, £1,500 was granted to the Protestant Dissenters of Manchester for the repair of their temple.

Syddal and his colonel were tried at Lancaster Assizes in August. In pursuance of their sentence they both decorated the pillory on the market day, whilst some looked on with scorn and more with sympathy. They were tenderly treated, for no man was allowed to fling anything at them; thus they escaped the worst part of the ordeal. From the pillory back to jail, and there they lay until their prison gates were opened by the army of James III. The High Church faction were a loose-living, hard-drinking race, fonder of confusing their brains by drinking “Confusion to the Elector of Hanover” than of striking home an honest blow for the King over the water. Their conspiracies were of the pot-house order, concocted over a flowing punch-bowl. They exaggerated probably even to themselves the strength of their party, and when the Scottish Jacobites (with whom the struggle was chiefly for the ancient integrity and independence of their kingdom) determined to raise the standard of the Pretender, they had received assurances that twenty thousand Lancashire men would join their forces. On the faith of these promises the Fiery Cross was sent flaming round the Highlands, and the rebellion, which, if confined to Scotland, would have had strong chances of success, was to be a general one. The Earl of Derwentwater and the Roman Catholic gentlemen of Northumberland effected a junction with the two Scottish armies at Kelso. This is not the place to chronicle the movements of the rebel army, their want of purpose, or their internal dissensions. The incompetence of their leader, a country squire turned into a general, whose jealousy of the military reputation of grim old Brigadier Mackintosh led him to reject wise counsel, brought on the fatal catastrophe which awaited them. At Langholm they were met by Lord Widdrington, who assured them of Lancashire aid and sympathy, and this determined at last their course of action. They marched into England, but not without misgivings on the part of the leaders, and many desertions on the part of the Highlanders, who were bitterly opposed to leaving Scotland. They were joined by very few men in their English march, the leaders were thoroughly dispirited, and Mackintosh, tough old soldier as he was, looked gloomily at the cheerless prospect before them.

At Kendal their cheerfulness was somewhat restored by the appearance of Lord Widdrington’s brother with news that Lancashire was ready to rise, that James III. had that day been proclaimed King at Manchester, where the townspeople had undertaken to furnish a troop of fifty men at their own expense, and where many volunteers might be expected. Instead of marching on Newcastle, where the Whig general was hurrying to meet them, they determined to advance to Lancaster. The loyalists were completely surprised at this descent into Lancashire. Sir Henry Houghton was at the head of a body of militia numbering 600. He could not obtain the aid of some dragoons who were stationed in Preston, but refused to stir without orders from London, and he was forced to retreat on Preston, and the army of King James took peaceful possession of the town with trumpets sounding, and the bare swords of the gentlemen glittering gaily as they rode triumphantly forward. The prisoners in the castle were now released from durance vile, and Syddal—Captain Syddal, as he was styled—attached himself to the regiment of the Earl of Derwentwater. Perhaps he was one of the lucky gentlemen soldiers, who dressed “in their best clothes,” went to drink a dish of tea with the ladies of Lancaster, which fair Jacobites were also “in their best rigging, and had their tea tables richly furnished for to entertain their new suitors.” On the 9th of November they marched to Preston, and were greatly encouraged by learning that the dragoons already mentioned had quitted that town. Less pleasing to them was the conduct of Peploe the curate, who had the courage to read with extra emphasis and unction the prayers for King George and his family. At Preston the rebels remained inactive, seemingly careless of the danger which threatened them. Carpenter was hastening from Newcastle, and a second force was hastening in detachments from the west to be placed under the command of General Wills in the neighbourhood. The plan of the campaign was drawn up by no less a man than Marlborough. On the 8th Wills passed through Manchester and found the town so disaffected that he quartered a thousand men in it, greatly to the disgust of the High Church Tories, some of whom were arrested, whilst others fled, or remained in concealment. Whilst the rebels were “feasting and courting” in Preston, bewitched by the Jacobite charms of what was then the most aristocratic and luxurious of the Lancashire towns, wasting the precious hours in contented lotos-eating, the Whigs were full of activity. Even Dissenting ministers in more than one case marched at the head of their congregations with muskets, scythes mounted on poles, and everything that could be tortured into weapons of offence, and joined the army of General Wills to fight for liberty and the Protestant succession. The Rev. James Woods, of Chowbent, was conspicuous in this way, and for the rest of his life was commonly known as “General” Woods.

Notwithstanding the military genius of Mackintosh who now planned the defence, the rebels after some hard fighting, on the arrival of Carpenter found themselves hopelessly surrounded. They sent Colonel Oxburgh to treat with Wills for a capitulation. “I will not treat with Rebels; they have killed several of the King’s subjects, and they must expect to undergo the same fate.” Such was Wills’ alternative, unconditional surrender, and only one hour in which to decide. This secret negotiation exasperated the Highlanders, who swore they would die fighting, and vowed they would shoot their muddle-headed General Forster if they had the chance. The time for consideration was afterwards extended after a further conference with some of the Scotch officers, who pledged themselves to a cessation from arms. Some six or seven rebels were, notwithstanding, cut to pieces in an attempt to escape. Mackintosh was now a hostage in the hands of the King’s forces, and on the 13th of November the defenders of Preston surrendered at discretion. Many of the rebels escaped, but the number of prisoners was 1,569.

The rebellion begun hastily and ignorantly, carried on through all its course with dissensions, quarrels, and the most lamentable incompetence, had arrived at its ignominious end, so far as England was concerned. Preston was for some time given up to plunder, and the prisoners reserved for retribution, in divers jails of Lancashire and Cheshire. The House of Hanover was never noticeable for mercy, and the retribution was a bloody one.

The landing of James in Scotland did no good at all. Above a thousand of the rebels were transported, some of the leaders amongst them; Forster and the brave old Mackintosh escaped, the one by fraud, the other by force. The number who were executed is not known. The hangman had a triumphant progress through Lancashire. On the eleventh of February, 1716, there came into Manchester a melancholy cavalcade. Bound to one horse by strong cords and surrounded by guards, there rode into the town dashing Tom Syddal, the former leader of the High Church mob in destroying the Dissenting chapels, and with him four others who had been condemned to death. They were hanged, drawn, and quartered, at Knott Mill. Syddal’s head was afterwards fixed on the Market Cross.