  RIVINGTON AND THE LORDS WILLOUGHBY—THE PILKINGTONS—THE STORY OF A LANCASHIRE BISHOP. "No, sir, hardly a vestige of the old house remains, and even the Willoughby coat of arms with the supporters, the ivy-wreathed savage and the horseshoe-eating ostrich, that once adorned and gave dignity to the outbuilding, has been taken away by sacrilegious hands, and now only a blank space remains to show where once it was." Such was the remark of a friend at whose hospitable abode in Heath-Charnock we were spending a few days, a year or two ago, in reply to our inquiries as to the present condition of Shaw Place, an ancient habitation on the confines of Rivington, once the home of the Lords Willoughby of Parham. But Rivington and its vicinity have other associations to claim attention not less interesting than the fading memories of the extinct Willoughbys. The tower-crowned summit of the Pike, rising to the height of 1,545 feet above the sea level, calls to remembrance the stirring times of the Armada, and the scarcely less anxious days of nearly a century ago when our grandfathers were in daily dread of invasion, and constant watch was kept in order that the beacon fire might flash the signal of danger from hill to hill should their fears be realised; and the "Two-lads," a double pile of stones on the further side, has its tale of disaster to beguile the time if we care to listen to it. Those bleak mountain Our host having suggested a walk as far, we were nothing loth to act upon his advice and renew acquaintance with a locality familiar to us in earlier years. It was not the most favourable day for a pedestrian ramble, for, though the rays of the February sun had made some feeble attempts to wake the firstlings of the year from their long winter sleep, the indications of spring had proved delusive, and King Frost still held the vegetable world fast bound in his icy fetters. Of a verity it might be said that the lingering winter chilled the lap of spring, for though we had entered upon the month of March the crocus, which, according to the old saw— Blows before the shrine At vernal dawn of St. Valentine had not yet ventured forth as the harbinger of returning animation, and even the tiny snowdrop, forerunner of the glorious train of summer flowers, hid its drooping head beneath the fleecy robe of nature's weaving from which it takes its name. Winter had To glaze the lakes, to bridle up the floods, And periwig with snow the bald-pate woods. The snow, which had fallen heavily during the night, enfolding the earth in a downy mantle, had nearly ceased, and only a few stray feathery flakes descended; the broad breezy moors that stretched their length across the landscape were thickly covered, and it lay deep in the cloughs and dingles that the storms of ages had channelled down their sides. The hedgerows in their fleecy garniture assumed quaint and indefinite shapes, and chequered the cold snow with their fantastic shadows, and the few trees bordering the wayside stretched their naked boles across the path, looking weird and gaunt and grim; but there was neither colour nor savagery enough to make a picture—nothing but a dull leaden gloom that left a saddening and depressing influence upon the senses, instead of making glad the heart of the beholder. The eddying wind that blew from the west broke in fitful gusts, and drove the dark leaden cloud-rack and drifted sea-fog swiftly athwart the sky, betokening a coming change; there was a rawness, too, in the atmosphere that sent a chill through your veins, and everything seemed cold and comfortless; while the few wayfarers you met looked sad and woe-begone, and as sullen and ungenial as the weather. We missed the cheery sunshine, and the sharp, crisp, nipping air of a clear, frosty day; but for all that we trudged along with light heart and steady step, though the roads were heavy, for the snow had melted in places, and now and then we plunged ankle-deep in thick icy sludge that oozed through the sodden ground. The rounded summit of Rivington Pike—Riven Pike, as it was anciently written—stands out boldly against the dull background of mist and murkiness, and the little square tower that crowns its highest point looks as if it had suddenly thrust its dark form up through the surrounding whiteness. As we mount the higher
Hall-o'-th'-Hill was the dwelling place of the Asshawes, who were also lords of Flixton; one of them—Sir Ralph—Mr. M'Dougall has made the subject of the most pathetic of his legendary ballads; while another—Ann—was the wife of that Richard Pilkington who built Rivington Church, and the mother of James, the Puritan prelate, who founded the school. Adlington lies below us; and beyond the view takes in the great plain that stretches away to the Fylde, dotted over with collieries and mills and loomsheds, that bear testimony to the active industry of the people. Westwards, crowning a rocky ridge that rises abruptly from the banks of the Douglas, we see the village of Blackrod, with the battlemented tower of its ancient church rising above the lowly habitations that gather round. The remains of a Roman causeway, it is said, may still be traced along the summit, and learned antiquaries confidently assure us that here the subjects of the CÆsars had a military station—the Coccium of Antoninus, and the Rigodunum of Ptolemy; though other antiquaries, equally learned, with no less confidence and much more show of reason, Presently the road bends to the right, and in a few minutes we reach the entrance to a long straight avenue of beeches that leads down to where the home of the Willoughbys once stood. Tall patrician trees they are that border the way, and meet almost in a canopy overhead, very patriarchs of their kind, that have withstood the winter's blast and summer's sunshine, and budded and blossomed and shed their leaves through long ages; but what time has failed to do sulphurous fumes from a neighbouring tile kiln have effectually accomplished, and now they present only the scathed and blighted semblance of their former glory. At the end of the gravelled walk may still be seen the two tall gate-posts that once flanked the entrance to the garden court; they are massive in character, rusticated at the joints, and surmounted by ball ornaments of ponderous size. To the right is a long range of outbuilding, with a tablet high up on the gable bearing the inscription W and the date 1705, from which we gather that it was erected by Hugh, the twelfth Lord Willoughby, and the Lady Honora, his wife, in the earlier years of Queen Anne's reign. On the side is a square The connection of the Willoughbys with this part of Lancashire dates from about the middle of the seventeenth century, when Thomas Willoughby acquired lands in the neighbourhood by his marriage with Eleanor, daughter of Hugh Whittal, or Whittle, of Horwich, the representative of an old Puritan family, ranking as substantial yeomen, and a descendant, in all likelihood, of that Ralph Whittal of whom Oliver Heywood makes mention when, alluding to his boyish experiences, he says:—"Many days of prayer have I known my father keep among God's people; yea, I remember a whole night wherein he, Dr. Bradshaw, Adam Fearniside, Thomas Crompton, and several more did pray all night in a parlour at Ralph Whittal's, upon occasion of King Charles demanding the five members of the House of Commons. The Willoughbys were a family of ancient and illustrious lineage, deriving their patronymic from the manor of the same name in Lincolnshire, where the parent stock had been seated almost from the time of Duke William of Normandy. One of them, Sir William Willoughby, in the reign of Henry III., signed the cross—in those days the highest object of human ambition—and accompanied the Of this illustrious stock was one of whom we know just enough to make us wish to know more—the brave Sir Hugh Willoughby, who defended Lauder Castle in Berwickshire against both the French and Scots; and, though suffering the severest privations, with a mere handful of men, held it until peace was proclaimed; and who, as we are told, "by reason of his goodly personage, as also for his singular skill in war," was in 1553 chosen by "The Mystery, Company, and Fellowship of Merchant Adventurers," to command the first Arctic expedition that ever left the English shores—an expedition that was fated never to return, for before a year had passed Sir Hugh, with the crews of two of his ships, in all about 70 men, were frozen to death in the North Sea, about the very time that his grand-niece, the Lady Jane Grey, and her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley, perished upon the scaffold. Such was the Briton's fate, As with first prow (what have not Britons dared!) He for the passage sought attempted since So much in vain, and seeming to be shut By jealous Nature with eternal bar, In these fell regions in Arzina caught, And to the stony deep his idle ship Immediate seal'd; he with his hapless crew Each full exerted at his several task, Froze into statues; to the cordage glued The sailor, and the pilot to the helm. Scarcely had the solemn sound heard from the bell-towers of England, announcing the decease of King Henry the Eighth, died away, when Sir William Willoughby—descended through a younger line from William, fifth Lord Willoughby de Eresby—was raised to the dignity of Baron Willoughby of Parham, in Suffolk, the patent of his nobility bearing date February 16, 1547, the very day on which the remains of the defunct king were committed to the dust at Windsor. This Lord William, from whom the future owners of Shaw Place derived their descent, lived to a ripe old age, and died in 1574, leaving a son Charles, who succeeded to the barony, and who was then married to the Lady Margaret Clinton, a daughter of Queen Elizabeth's Lord High Admiral, Edward Clinton, first Earl of Lincoln. By her he had several sons, among them William, the eldest, who died in the lifetime of his father; Sir Ambrose; and Thomas, whose descendants we shall have occasion to refer to hereafter. Charles Lord Willoughby died in 1603, and was succeeded in the honours of his house by his grandson William, who had espoused the Lady Francis Manners, daughter of John, fourth Earl of Rutland, by whom he had three sons, Henry, Francis, and William, who successively became fourth, fifth, and sixth Lords Willoughby. Henry enjoyed the title only for a short time, and died before attaining his majority. Francis, who succeeded, married Elizabeth Cecil, a great granddaughter of the famous Lord Treasurer, William Cecil, Lord Burghley. On the breaking out of the great Civil War, he took sides against the King, and had a command in the Parliament's army, but did not achieve any great distinction; indeed he seems rather to have lacked the qualities that generals are made of. Early in the summer of 1643 he seized Gainsborough, and held it for the Parliament; but on the news reaching the Marquis of Newcastle, he despatched a force out of Yorkshire In connection with Lord Willoughby's occupation of Gainsborough an incident occurred which is worth recording. On the capture of the town several persons of rank were made prisoners, including Robert Pierrepoint, Earl of Kingston, surnamed the "Good." When it was known that the Royalists were advancing, Willoughby, to prevent the Earl's escape, had him placed in a pinnace and conveyed to Hull. While on the voyage Cavendish, in ignorance that so distinguished a companion in arms was on board, ordered his men to fire upon the vessel, and an unlucky shot struck his lordship and killed him on the spot. Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson, in her "Memoirs" of her husband, gives the popular version of the story, from which it appears that when Kingston was first invited to join the Royalists, "he made a serious imprecation on himself: 'When,' said he, 'I take arms with the King against the Parliament, or with the Parliament against the King, let a cannon bullet divide me between them,'" "which God," she says, "was pleased to bring to pass a few months after; for he, going into Gainsborough, and there taking up arms for the King, was surprised by my Lord Willoughby, and, after a handsome defence of himself, yielded, and was put prisoner into a pinnace, and sent down the river to Hull, when my Lord Newcastle's army, marching along the shore, shot at the pinnace, and, being in danger, the Earl of Kingston went up upon the deck to show himself, and to prevail on them to forbear shooting; but as soon as he appeared a cannon bullet flew from the King's army and divided him in the middle, being then in the Parliament's pinnace; who thus perished according to his own unhappy imprecation." The "notable victory," as he phrased it, gained by the embryo Lord Protector at Gainsborough, though it proved insufficient in Though as a general Lord Willoughby might not come up to Cromwell's standard, he nevertheless did "very considerable service for the Parliament in Lincolnshire," as Whitelocke affirms, "and manifested as much courage and gallantry as any man in the service," and it is evident that, for some time at least, he retained the confidence and esteem of the ruling powers, for in December, 1645, on the close of the first war, his name appears among those who were to have dignities and honours conferred upon them, an earldom being assigned to him; and about the same time, in the overtures for pacification, he was named one of the commissioners to the Scots' army, then lying before Newark, an appointment that gave great umbrage to the war party. Willoughby was a staunch Presbyterian, determinedly opposed to kingly prerogative, a devoted admirer of the Parliament, and possessed withal of much real zeal for the liberties of his country, but he was not altogether destitute of loyal feeling or prepared to Hew the throne Down to a block. Dissension had sprung up in the ranks of the two great rebel factions, resulting in a general confusion of political principles in the dread of political supremacy. Fearing for the safety of the Constitution, and believing that his associates were proceeding to too great lengths, he went over to the side of the King, a procedure that aroused the hatred of the Parliament party, who became as eager to effect his overthrow as they had previously been to compass the death of Strafford. On the 8th of September, 1647, he was impeached of high treason by the Commons, but, the impeachment for some cause or other not being proceeded with, he appealed to the Lords, on the 17th January following, to be set at liberty.
Rupert was at the time carrying on privateering hostilities against the Parliament with such energy that, as was said, a packet-boat could hardly sail from Dover without being pillaged, unless it had a convoy. Willoughby accepted a commission, and became admiral of the Prince's fleet, and in the month of August, 1648, while in the Downs, was fortunate enough to intercept and capture a vessel returning from Guiana with a cargo of merchandise and £20,000 in gold. The year following the execution of the King he went out to Barbadoes, established himself as governor, and proclaimed Charles II. king. On hearing of this exploit, Cromwell's government despatched Sir George Ascue with a fleet to effect the reduction of the place; after several ineffectual attempts to obtain submission he landed a force and stormed the fortress, when Lord Willoughby, fearing a revolt of the garrison, yielded on honourable terms, which included protection for the enjoyment of his estates. He then returned to England, but the Republicans, being doubtful of his loyalty to the Commonwealth, caused him to be committed to the The year which followed the Restoration was to Lord Willoughby a year of sorrow, and the joy with which he had greeted that event was quickly overshadowed by a great domestic affliction. Ere a year had rolled round from the time when Charles landed at Dover he lost, within the short space of a few days, both his eldest son and his wife. Samuel Hartleb, in two of his letters written at the time to his friend Dr. Worthington, Shortly afterwards Lord Willoughby was appointed to the governorship of Barbadoes, a post he continued to hold until 1656, when he was unfortunately drowned during a hurricane that swept over the island, an occurrence that Pepys thus alludes to in his "Diary:"—
Lord Willoughby having no surviving male issue, the titles and estates devolved upon his younger brother, William, who, in 1672, was also appointed Governor of Barbadoes, and to whom Evelyn, in his diary, thus refers:—
He died at Barbadoes, April 10th, 1673, having held the post barely a year. His lordship married Ann, one of the daughters of Sir Philip Carey, of Stanwell, county Middlesex, who bore him with other issue, three sons—George, his heir, and John and Charles, who eventually through failure of direct descent successively inherited the honours of the house. George, the eldest son, who succeeded, died in the following year, leaving by his wife Elizabeth, eldest daughter and co-heir of Henry Fynes-Clinton, of Kirkstead, in Lincolnshire, grandson of Henry, second Earl of Lincoln, a son, John Willoughby, who succeeded, but he dying issueless in 1678, the barony reverted to his uncle, John, son of George, the seventh lord. This nobleman died before the close of the year, and, having no surviving male issue, the title and estates passed to his younger brother, Charles, who succeeded as tenth baron, and who was then married to Mary, daughter of Sir Beaumont Dixie. He did not, however, long enjoy the honours, his death occurring in the following year, and being, like so many of his predecessors, childless, the barony remained for a time in abeyance; the vast estates in Lincolnshire passing meanwhile, in accordance with the provisions of his will, to his niece Elizabeth, only daughter of George, seventh Lord Willoughby, and then wife of the Hon. James Bertie, eventually second Earl of Lincoln. On the failure of the elder line by the death of Lord Charles without issue, the barony should by right have reverted to the heir of Sir Ambrose, second son of Charles, the second Lord Willoughby; but Sir Ambrose's grandson, Henry Willoughby, being then settled in Virginia, whither the "Pilgrim Fathers," who, "well weaned from the delicate milk of their mother-country," had gone some years before, and having no knowledge of the failure, took no steps to establish his claim. Under these circumstances, and in the belief that the line of Sir Ambrose was extinct, the barony was erroneously adjudged to Sir Thomas Willoughby, son and heir of Sir Thomas, the fifth and youngest son of Charles, the second lord, who, as previously stated, was then settled in Lancashire, having married Eleanor, daughter of Hugh Whittle, of Horwich, the representative of a noted Puritan family, whose religious opinions he had embraced. The broad lands of the oldest line of the Willoughbys, as we have seen, passed by distaff to the Earls of Abingdon; the representative of the younger stock, who had summons to Parliament 19th May, 1685, being left the while to support the title with an estate of very modest proportions—the fortune his father had acquired in marriage with a yeoman's daughter. Sir Thomas Willoughby had attained to the ripe old age of 82 when he succeeded to the barony, and he lived to enjoy it for a period of nearly seven years, his death occurring in February, 1691-2. Born in the last year of Elizabeth's golden reign, he had witnessed the accession of James, and lived through the eventful reigns of the Stuart sovereigns. He had passed the meridian of life when Charles was brought to the block; had experienced Republicanism under Cromwell; had seen the restoration of Monarchy in the person of Charles's son; the re-establishment of Episcopacy, and the "Black Bartholomew," as the Dissenters love to designate the day on which the Nonconforming divines, preferring conscience to emolument, withdrew from the Church; and had lived long enough to see the feudal supremacy of the Crown, which had lasted for nearly six hundred years, abolished, when the second Hugh Willoughby, who, on the death of his father in 1691-2, succeeded as twelfth baron, was then 65 years of age, having been born in 1627. He had married in early life Anne, daughter of Lawrence Halliwell, of Tockholes, in Blackburn parish, and by her had a son, Thomas, who died in infancy; she died in 1690, at the age of 52, and shortly after his accession to the barony he again entered the marriage state, taking for his second wife the youthful widow of Sir William Egerton, K.B., of Worsley, brother of John, third Earl of Bridgewater—the Lady Honora, daughter of Sir Thomas Leigh, son and heir of Thomas Lord Leigh, of Stoneleigh, and the great-granddaughter of Sir Thomas Egerton, the renowned Lord Chancellor—the lady numbering 19 summers, while Lord Willoughby had attained the mature age of 55. His lordship was an uncompromising, and, it is to be feared, not over scrupulous Presbyterian. Sir Henry Ashurst, in a Dedication of the Life of Nathaniel Heywood, the Puritan Vicar of Ormskirk, written by his brother Oliver, to this Lord Hugh, speaks of his "exemplary piety and zeal for our holy religion in such a degenerate and licentious age, and the countenance he gave to serious piety, wherever he found it, among all the different parties into which we are so unhappily broken," but the occasional references to him in Henry Newcome's autobiography, leads us to doubt the justness of the Presbyterian writer's panegyric. Under date Thursday, September 7, 1693, Newcome writes:—
The occasion would probably be that of his lordship's first coming to his wife's house—the old hall of Worsley, in Eccles parish, where he spent a good deal of his time—but it was not long before the old Puritan divine had occasion to speak in a less cheerful tone. Thus, he writes:—
And a few months later:—
Lord Willoughby busied himself greatly in the religious affairs of the county, and was not unfrequently a cause of disquiet to Episcopal dignitaries from his confused ideas of meum and tuum in regard to ecclesiastical funds. The parson of Horwich found him an exceedingly unpleasant neighbour, and poor James Rothwell, the vicar of Dean, complained bitterly to the bishop of his wrong doing. Rothwell's predecessor, Richard Hatton, had not renounced the Covenant; but had, nevertheless been inducted into the vicarage by a kind of dispensing power. One illegal appointment led to another. The Nonconforming vicar of the church appointed a Nonconforming preacher to the Episcopal chapel. The Dissenters having thus got the chapel into their hands through the "contrivance" of Lord Willoughby, held possession for many years, and were only induced in the long run to surrender to the ecclesiastical authorities to escape a costly litigation. When Rothwell had got rid of the intruders, and recovered possession of the chapel, he found that he could not get possession of the endowment, as the trustees, who were Presbyterians, were appropriating it to the support of a minister of their own persuasion, and, "against justice and honesty," were going to "build a meeting house with part of the money, and apply the remaining part towards supporting a Presbyterian teacher." He had complained to the bishop, but failing, as it would seem, to
Bishop Gastrell, in his "Notitia," describes the chapel as "ancient" and "consecrated." It certainly was in existence in Lord Willoughby died in June, 1712, at the age of 75; his wife the Lady Honora, survived him and maintained her widowhood for the long period of 38 years, dying in 1750, at the age of 77. Having no surviving issue, the title and estates devolved upon his nephew, Edward—the eldest surviving son of Francis, second son of Thomas, the eleventh in succession in the barony, and his wife, Eleanor Rothwell, of Haigh—who was at the time serving as a private soldier in the confederate army in Flanders. He enjoyed the title only for a few months, his death occurring in April of the following year. Being childless, the family honours and possessions reverted to his younger brother, Charles, who married Hester, daughter of Henry Davenport, of Darcy Lever, an offshoot of the Hugh, who succeeded as fifteenth Lord Willoughby, was an infant at the time of his father's decease (July 12, 1715). He was brought up in the Presbyterian faith, but appears to have been less demonstrative in the assertion of it than some of his progenitors; at all events his neighbours found him much less troublesome in that respect than his grandfather had been. Cole, the Cambridge antiquary, describes him as a Presbyterian "of the most rigid class," and remarks that he had heard "Mr. Coventry, of Magdalen College, Cambridge, declare that his conscience was so nice that he could not bring himself to receive the sacrament in the Church of England on his knees without scruple and thought it idolatry." He resided for the most part in London, but when at Shaw Place he usually attended the Nonconformist chapel at Rivington. It is said, though apparently on slender foundation, that when in London he professed himself a strict Churchman, and that some of his friends there, hearing that he was in the habit of worshipping with the Nonconformists when at Rivington, took him to task, whereupon he forsook the chapel and became a worshipper at Horwich Church. The accuracy of the story may very well be doubted. His lordship lived and died in the faith of his fathers; the canopied pew he was wont to occupy in Rivington chapel may still be seen, though the glories of its decoration have become somewhat faded; and at his death he bequeathed £100, the interest of which helps to pay its minister's stipend at the present day. He was more of a philosopher than a polemic, and a liberal patron of literature and art. In 1752 he succeeded Martin Foulkes as Vice-president of the Royal Society, and two years later he was elected to the honourable position of President of the Society of Antiquaries. It was in this latter capacity that John Byrom, of Manchester, addressed to him his famous poetical letter "On the Patron of England," and facetiously started the question whether Georgius was not a mistake for Gregorius, contending for the non-existence of St. George of Cappadocia or any other George as
Of the two sisters of Lord Willoughby, Helena, the eldest, became the wife of Baxter Roscoe, by whom she had two daughters and a son, Ebenezer Roscoe, who married his cousin Hannah, daughter of John Shaw, and dying in January, 1766, left an only daughter, Helena, who died at the age of 19 in 1794. The eldest of the two daughters married Mr. Fisher, and the younger became On the death of Lord Willoughby the barony again fell into abeyance. For a period of 80 years, that is from 1685, when Sir Thomas Willoughby had summons to Parliament, to the decease of Hugh, Lord Willoughby, in 1765, the bearers of the title had been only suppositious lords. As previously stated, the honours should of right have reverted to the descendants of Sir Ambrose, the second son of Charles, the second baron, but they, having settled in America and remaining in ignorance of the default, did not put forward their claim, and hence the barony was erroneously adjudged. Henry Willoughby, the grandson of Sir Ambrose, who settled in Virginia, died there in 1685, leaving a son of the same name, who married Elizabeth, daughter of William Pidgeon, of Stepney, near London, and by her had, with other issue, two sons, Henry and Fortune. This Henry, when the barony fell into abeyance in 1765, claimed to be the representative of Sir Ambrose, and in 1767 his right was established by a decree of the House of Lords as the great-grandson and heir male of the body of Sir Ambrose, and consequently heir male of Sir William Willoughby, who was elevated to the dignity of a baron by the title of Lord Willoughby of Parham in 1547. Mr. Henry Willoughby thereupon became sixteenth lord, and took his seat in the Upper House on April 25th, 1767. He died January 29th, 1775, leaving by his wife Susannah, daughter of Robert Gresswell, an only daughter, Elizabeth, who married (first) John Halsey, of Tower Hill, London, and (second) Edward Argles. His lordship having no male heir, the title devolved upon his nephew George, son of After a brief inspection of the modernised home of the Willoughbys and the ancient outbuilding adjacent, which happily still remains—"standing," as has been well said, "like a faded, tarnished court-train wearing out in the service of the descendants of its original proprietor's lady's maid"—we bent our steps in the direction of the old chapel at Rivington, where the family worshipped, and where many of their kin sleep their long sleep. Descending into the valley, we pass through a plantation that has been formed by the side of one of the large reservoirs of the Liverpool Corporation Waterworks. The tall trees stand out in all their nakedness against the background of snow, looking black, and grim, and spectral like, though relieved in some measure by the bright-hued holly bushes, the glossy-leaved laurels, and the other hardy shrubs, that try to look cheery and make a pretty show. Below, where, in summer time, the far-spreading water reflects the surrounding beauty and flashes and glitters in the mellow sunlight, there is now only a dull leaden glaze, for the returning spring has not yet thawed the mantle of ice in which the hard hand of winter has enfolded it. Across the valley the smoke curls upwards from some unseen habitation, else we might fancy the inhabitants had fled, for neither flocks nor herds are to be seen in the fields; even the rook as he sails listlessly overhead looks dull and dejected, and the fieldfares huddle themselves up in the leafless branches as if they had lost heart; all around is still and cold and lifeless, save that now and then the hedge sparrows set up a twittering as unmusical as the grating of a knife-grinder's wheel, and that sprightly little fellow, the red-breasted robin, trills out his song from the naked hawthorn spray where the tiny buds are striving to break forth. Presently we come to a little lodge, and then, turning to the left, cross the embankment that separates the lower from A quiet, picturesque spot is this same little village of Rivington. There is an air of calm repose and pastoral serenity about it that is pleasant to contemplate. Here the busy hum of looms and spindles is never heard, and, though the shrill whistle of the locomotive may occasionally find an echo, the railway itself maintains a respectful distance, and hides away as if afraid to disturb the peaceful quietude. The church stands a little way back from the road upon a gentle acclivity, from which it overlooks the humbler dwellings that gather round, but without the least air of pretentiousness. It has an ancient and weather-worn appearance, though the present fabric dates no further back than the time of the second Charles; a little octagon cupola rises from the western gable, and the crumbling ruins of an old campanile that now serves as a depository for lumber may be seen in a corner of the quiet graveyard. A little higher up on the other side, crowning a grassy knoll, is the modest meeting-house we are in The memory of a former Boniface of that ancient hostelry is still cherished by the villagers, and quaint stories are told respecting him. The old worthy, it seems, combined with the duties of host on week-days those of chief musician at the chapel on Sundays; his chosen instrument being the violoncello, or "th' great-gronfaither fiddle," as the inhabitants of the little Arcadia were wont to call it; a clarionet and a deep-mouthed but somewhat hiccupy bassoon completing the orchestra, the performers being chosen, like Cremona fiddles, more for age than looks or excellence, enough if only they could produce a sufficient foundation of sound whereon the congregation might raise their superstructure of song. Anniversary sermons and similar high days and festivals were those on which the host of the "Black-boy" put forth his utmost energies, and showed to greatest advantage. Surrounded by a troop of school children, and a The flute, And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife, he then laboured at his bass viol with such energy, that, as is related, on one occasion, being overcome with the sense of his own importance, and the extra exertion necessary for the successful rendering of "Fixed in his everlasting seat," he missed the centre of gravity, toppled over and smashed his monster fiddle. The chapel in which the Willoughbys worshipped stands, as we have said, at the further end of the village; it is a modest looking structure, and, in its externals at least, plain and simple enough to satisfy the requirements of the most rigid and lugubrious Puritan. But the authoress of "Lancashire Memories" has given such an exquisite description of it that we cannot refrain from reproducing her sketch: "A little gray, old stone building," she says, "half covered with ivy, and one bell that rang, and rang, from ten o'clock until the minister was fairly seated in the pulpit. The pews were gray and worm-eaten, of all sizes and shapes. Some seemed not to have borne age so well as their neighbours, and to have sunk a little on one side under their infirmities. One was distinguished by a wooden canopy over it, and had once belonged to that rara avis, a dissenting peer. One of his descendants, no other than the village schoolmaster, occupied the pew, and in the pride of his descent had painted on the door 'Lord Hugh Willoughby.' When did Dissenters know anything of heraldry? Or the difference between Lord Hugh and Hugh Lord? It converted the baronial ancestor into quite another person. But it did just as well; a lord's a lord all the world over, and Burke's Extinct Peerage had not come out. There was no vestry in the chapel; but the minister wore no gown, so no robing room was required. The bier stood at one end, a perpetual memento mori, and over it hung the bell-rope, looped up on a peg. The minister walked straight into the pulpit from the outer door, and the service The chapel of Rivington, with which the memory of the Willoughbys is so closely associated, presents a venerable aspect, though it has no very great antiquity to boast of. At the passing of the Act of Uniformity, Samuel Newton, who had been minister of the Episcopal Chapel, withdrew, but returning some time after and his place remaining unoccupied, he was allowed "to preach in the church without disturbance." When the Conventicle Act The present chapel was built in the early part of Queen Anne's reign—in 1703, it is said, and about the time that Hugh, Lord Willoughby, the first of that name, with his co-trustees were causing so much anxiety to poor Vicar Rothwell by retaining the funds of Horwich Episcopal Chapel, and threatening "against justice and honesty" to build a meeting-house with them. Like many other chapels erected contemporaneously, it was built and endowed for the promulgation of doctrines accordant with those of the Church, but enforced by a Presbyterian form of government; eventually Arian sentiments were introduced, and it has experienced the declension almost universal with English Presbyterian congregations. There is a tradition current that when these changes were introduced they were received with so much disfavour that a worthy couple in the neighbourhood who had a child born to them at the time, determined that it should be named Ichabod, believing, as they said, the glory to have departed. The building, clothed in its mantle of verdant ivy, stands a little way back from the wayside in the midst of its own graveyard and encompassed by a grey stone fence that looks as old as the structure itself. Having obtained the key, we passed through the little wicket into the enclosure— Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap. A few shrubs grasp the cold earth, and you can see where flowers have been planted by loving hands, but there is no gravelled path, and so you have to pick your way round the grass-grown hillocks, stepping from dwelling to dwelling of the listless dead, and over the half-sunken flag-stones, many of them bemossed with age and The record some fond hand hath traced, To mark thy burial spot, The lichen will have soon effaced, To write thy doom—forgot. Unlocking the door, we entered the little sanctuary, which looks as though it had remained undisturbed since the time when the Willoughbys were in the heyday of their power. The interior is plain and simple almost to ugliness, and a chill pervades the place that tends more to inspire a melancholy gloom than to attune the mind to reverent devotion; the pavement is damp and uneven, and the mildewed and worm-eaten pews, though doubtless favourable to the quiet slumbers of bucolic Rivingtonians, suggest the idea that the worshippers in this Nonconformist Zion have little sympathy with demonstrative worship, and are not much given to indulgence in Æsthetic gewgaws—at all events, that whatever their tabernacle may have done for the promotion of piety, it is not likely to do much for the cultivation of taste. The pulpit is placed in the centre against the wall, and directly opposite is the high seat of the synagogue—the pew or enclosure set apart, when the chapel could boast a peer among its worshippers, for the lordly owners of Shaw-place—importance being given by a wooden canopy, somewhat faded and decrepid in appearance, that overshadows it, and nowadays spinsters or bachelors who occupy the seat of honour are liable to have their thoughts distracted by the notice that stares them obtrusively in the face, "Marriages may be solemnised in this chapel," a reminder that might have been useful in former days when, as we have seen, there was an apparent forgetfulness, if not reluctance, on the part of some of the lordly occupants to enter the holy estate. There is not much display of mural literature; a small marble tablet perpetuates the name of Thomas Lowe, of Rivington, and Alice his wife, but the only sepulchral memorial deserving of especial notice is a singular coffin-shaped slab, inscribed with a pretentious pedigree and a long laudatory epitaph, erected in recent years by a descendant of the Willoughbys who had evidently less mercy for the marble-cutter than admiration of the hereditary dignities of his departed ancestors. It is about four or five yards in height, and adorned with a number of small shields blazoned with the armorial ensigns of the family alliances. Here is the inscription:—
After this fulsome eulogy, which offends alike against piety, simplicity, and truth, may we not exclaim with Sir Thomas Browne in his Hydriotaphia, "Man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes and pompous in the grave, solemnising nativities and deaths with equal lustre." Any account of the Willoughbys would be incomplete that did not make mention of that preux chevalier, the hero of Zutphen, the friend of Sir Philip Sidney, and the idol of popular fame, who, if he did not bear the name, was yet of the blood of the Willoughbys—Peregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughby of Eresby, whose valour was proved on many a hard-fought field, and whose name so often rang on the plains of the Netherlands— The brave Lord Willoughby, Of courage fierce and fell, Who would not give one inch of way For all the devils in hell. His mother, the Lady Katharine Willoughby, the only daughter and heiress of William the ninth lord by a Spanish lady of high birth, Mary Salmes, after the death of her first husband, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, brother-in-law of King Henry VIII., became the wife of Richard Bertie. On the accession of Queen Mary she was forced to fly from her own country to escape the cruelties and persecutions of Bishop Gardiner, whose enmity she had drawn upon herself by some imprudent manifestations of her dislike of his character in the preceding reign. Accompanied by her husband, she sought refuge in the Low Countries. "On an October evening," says Lucy Aikin in her "Memoirs of the Court of Elizabeth," "followed only by two maid-servants, on foot, through rain and mire and darkness, the forlorn wanderers began their march to Wesel, one of the Hanse towns. On their arrival, their wild and wretched appearance gave them, in the eyes of the inhabitants, so suspicious an appearance that no one would harbour them; and while her husband ran from inn to inn vainly imploring admittance the afflicted duchess was compelled to betake herself to the shelter of a church porch; and there, in that misery and desolation and want of everything, was delivered of a child, to whom, in memory of the circumstance, she gave the name of Peregrine." The son who first saw the light under these inauspicious circumstances was, at her death in 1580, and in her right, summoned to Parliament as tenth Lord Willoughby. Two years afterwards, when Elizabeth, on account of the hostility of Philip of Spain, was desirous of cultivating a closer friendship with the Northern Powers, Lord Willoughby was selected as her special envoy to the King of Denmark to invest him with the Garter as a token of her goodwill. Subsequently, when the battle between the two great principles that divided Europe was being fought out by England and Spain, he had many opportunities of distinguishing himself and won undying fame. Elizabeth had sent an army to assist the Protestant people of the Low Countries to maintain their civil privileges and their religious faith against Philip and against Rome. Leicester, who had the
The story of Sidney's death has been told by his friend Lord Brooke, and the affecting anecdote of his demeanour when he was carried faint and bleeding from the walls of Zutphen inspires a love and reverence for his name, which never ceases to cling about the hearts of his countrymen. "Passing along by the rear of the army," says his biographer, "where his uncle (the Earl of Leicester) the general was, and being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for some drink, which was presently brought him. But as he was putting the bottle to his mouth he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had eaten his last at the same feast, ghastly casting up his eyes at the bottle; which Sir Philip perceiving took it from his head before he drank, and delivered it to the poor man with these words,'Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.'" When the Earl of Leicester abruptly left for England Lord Willoughby was by his direction appointed to the chief command, in which he was subsequently confirmed by the Queen herself. He was not less magnanimous than brave; and, disdaining the servility of a Court life, is thought to have enjoyed on this account less of the Queen's favour than her admiration of military merit would otherwise have prompted her to bestow upon him. Some time after the defeat of the Armada he retired to Spa, ostensibly for the recovery of his health, but more probably in resentment of some injury inflicted by a venal and treacherous Court, the intrigues of which his noble nature scorned; but Elizabeth, unwilling to lose the support of one of her bravest and most popular captains, addressed a letter of recall to him. He does not appear, however, to have been actively engaged in any of the expeditions against Spain which ensued; though he was subsequently appointed Governor of Berwick, an appointment he held until his death in 1601. His son was afterwards created Earl of Lindsay, and the title of Duke of Ancaster has been borne by his descendants. There are other names associated with the annals of Rivington of equal historic interest with those of the former lords of Shaw Place, and foremost among them must be ranked that of the worthy prelate, who in the golden days of the maiden Queen, when he had risen to be Bishop of Durham, and out of the love he bore to his native county founded the free school at Rivington for the "bringing up, teaching, and instructing children and youth in grammar and other good learning, to continue for ever." In good Bishop Pilkington's early days the opportunities of learning were few; the well-born might get admission to the house of some great territorial lord and there receive a scholastic training, but to those of lowlier birth the monasteries were almost the only available sources, and the youths there educated were usually trained for the priesthood. The heaviest reproach that Shakespeare's Jack Cade could heap upon Lord Say was "that he had most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school." The Pilkingtons derived their patronymic from the manor of that name in Prestwich parish, where they were located shortly after the Conquest, though Fuller in his "Worthies of England" assigns, but without any apparent authority, a much earlier date, and tells us that one of them fought under Harold at the battle of Hastings, and, being pressed, put on the dress of a thatcher and so escaped; whence the family crest and the allusive motto, "Now thus, now thus." But in this the pleasant old chronicler is clearly at fault, for the crest of the Pilkingtons is not a thresher but a mower, and the motto imputed to the family belongs to the Traffords. Fuller says he had the story from his "good friend, Master William Riley, Norroy King of Arms," a Lancashire man. Whatever its origin—and tradition, if never wholly accurate, is seldom entirely destitute of foundation—it is a singular coincidence that the same, or nearly the same, story is applied to the Traffords, the Levers, and the Bridgeman family. An offshoot of the Pilkingtons was settled at Rivington in the first half of the fourteenth century, and the old hall was the residence of this branch of the family for many generations. The earlier history of the family is involved in much obscurity, but in the 10th Edward III. (1336-7) Robert, a younger son of Sir Roger Would you know more, you must look at "The Roll," Which records the dispute, And the subsequent suit, Commenced in "Thirteen sev'nty-five,"—which took root In Le Grosvenor's assuming the arms Le Scroope swore That none but his ancestors, ever before, In foray, joust, battle, or tournament wore, To wit "On a Prussian-blue Field, a Bend Or;" While the Grosvenor averr'd that his ancestor bore The same, and Scroope lied like a—somebody tore Off the simile—so I can tell you no more, Till some A double S shall the fragment restore. Robert Pilkington, by his wife Katharine, daughter of J. de Aynesworth, had a son Alexander, his heir, who, as appears by an inquisition taken 9th Henry V. (1421-2), held seven parts of the The Battle of Bosworth Field proved as fatal to the fortunes of the parent stock of the Pilkingtons as to the power of their royal master, Richard III. They were devoted adherents of the house of York, and bore a part in the bloody contest which ended the struggle between the Red and White Roses, and alike terminated the power of the feudal barons, the line of the Plantagenet kings, and the political system under which England had been governed by them for more than three centuries. For his adherence to the fortunes of the fallen monarch Sir Thomas Pilkington's estates were forfeited to the victorious Richmond, and by him bestowed upon his crafty stepfather, Thomas, Lord Stanley, first Earl of Derby, the only noble who survived the wars of the Roses with added power and splendour, he having given to him almost all the lands forfeited in the north; the originally great possessions of his house being swollen by enormous grants of the estates of Sir Thomas Broughton, of Broughton; of Sir James Harrington, of Hornby; of Francis, Viscount Lovel; of Sir Thomas Pilkington, and what Sir Thomas had inherited by descent from the heiress of Chetham—in fact, from these forfeited possessions of the Pilkingtons came all the lands which the Stanleys obtained in the Salford Hundred. If there is any foundation for the story of a Pilkington having disguised himself to escape his pursuers, it must have been after the fatal fight at Bosworth, and not at Hastings, as Fuller affirms. There is a common belief that Sir Thomas Pilkington was captured on the occasion of Richard's overthrow, sent prisoner to Leicester, and there put to death; but the statement is incorrect, for this devoted servant of the fallen king was afterwards in arms against Henry VII., and took part in the action Though Robert Pilkington, of Rivington, also fought on the side of the Yorkists at Bosworth, his lands appear to have escaped the general wreck, and his descendants continued in the occupation of the ancestral home for several generations. Richard Pilkington, a son or grandson of this Robert, was born in 1480, and had to wife Alice, daughter of Lawrence Asshawe, of Hall-on-the-Hill, in Heath-Charnock, a township adjoining Rivington, which would appear to have come into the possession of the Asshawes by marriage with a heiress of the Harringtons of Westby. The Asshawes at a later date also owned lands in Flixton, where they had a residence, Asshawe Hall, which still exists. Round this family Mr. M'Dougall has thrown the halo of romance, and under the title of "The Ladye of Asshawe" has enshrined in verse a lingering tradition that possibly possesses some faint glimmerings of truth, with, however, much that is undoubtedly apocryphal. A branch of the family was seated at High Bullough, in Anglezark, in the reign of Henry VIII.; and from this line, through James, younger son of John Asshawe or Shaw, as the name began to be written, who married Mary Gerard, a daughter of the house of Ince, descended the Shaws who were seated at Shaw Place, in Heath Charnock, before that mansion passed into the possession of the Willoughbys, and were residing there when Sir William Dugdale, Norroy King of Arms, made his visitation in 1664, Peter Shaw then registering a pedigree of six descents. We shall make acquaintance with the Shaws of High Bullough and Shaw Place in the course of our inquiries. Fuller says, and the statement has obtained currency by frequent repetition, that Richard Pilkington, who married the daughter of Lawrence Asshawe, built the church of Rivington, but the statement is not strictly accurate, though it was no doubt through his exertions that the building then existing received consecration. That there was an ecclesiastical foundation here at It would thus seem that originally Rivington had been a kind of minor (succursal) chapel of ease, erected for the accommodation of the people, who, residing in a remote hamlet, found it inconvenient on all occasions to resort to the mother church, and had been licensed for public worship, without, however, possessing the full privileges and characteristics of a church until, through the influence and exertions of Richard Pilkington, the Bishop of Chester was induced to consecrate it. It will be seen that at that early date the good people of Rivington appointed their own minister, a circumstance that goes far to confirm the belief that, though the Pilkingtons might have been liberal benefactors, they were not the actual founders of the church. The inhabitants have ever since continued to exercise the right of patronage, the incumbent whenever a vacancy occurs being elected by the votes of the ratepayers, a practice that is not without The old chapel—doubtless a very primitive-looking structure—was rebuilt in 1666, and within the last few years has undergone a thorough restoration. By whomsoever founded, it is clear that one of the most liberal contributors to the endowment was George Shaw, of High Bullough, a kinsman of Richard Pilkington's wife, whose name is perpetuated in the following inscription on a small brass placed below one of the windows on the north side:—
The memory of the Pilkingtons is preserved in the following inscription on a memorial in the church:—
Richard Pilkington, who married Alice Asshawe, and died on the 24th May, 1551, had a numerous family. One of his daughters, Katharine, became the wife of John, son of James Shaw, of Shaw Place, in Heath Charnock. Of the sons, Charles, the eldest, died young; George succeeded to the family inheritance, and left a son, Robert, his heir, who by his will dated 16th November, 1605, left the manor of Rivington, with his other estates, in trust to Mr. Serjeant Hutton, Thomas Tildesley, Esq., and Mrs. Katharine Pilkington, who sold the manor to Robert Lever, of Darcy Lever. His only daughter and heiress, Jane, in 1653, became the second wife of her kinsman, John Andrews, of Little Lever, son and heir of Nicholas Andrews, of the city of London, an offshoot of the old Northamptonshire family of the Andrews of Charwelton, and his wife, Heath, daughter of Thomas Lever, of Little Lever Hall, a captain in Cromwell's army; and the lordship has continued in their descendants to the present time. James, the third son of Richard Pilkington, became Bishop of Durham, and of this distinguished member of the family we shall have more to say anon. Francis Pilkington, the fourth son, died in 1597. Leonard, the fifth son, became master of St. John's College, Rector of Whitburne and prebendary of Durham; his grandson, a stout Church-and-King man, who had to compound for his estates on account of his adherence to the cause of the unfortunate Charles I., acquired extensive possessions in Ireland, and founded the line of the Pilkingtons of Tore, in the county of Westmeath, represented at the present day by Henry Mulock Pilkington, Esq., as well as that of Pilkington of Carrick, in Queen's County. John, the sixth son, like his brothers, James and Leonard, was in holy orders, and became archdeacon of Durham with a prebendal stall in that cathedral, three of the sons of Richard Pilkington thus attaining to distinguished positions in the Church, and holding, respectively, the offices of bishop, archdeacon, and prebendary of Durham. James Pilkington, "the good old Bishop of Durham," as Strype calls him, first saw the light in the year 1518, three years after good Hugh Oldham, Bishop of Exeter, had founded his grammar Pilkington subsequently entered at St. John's, Cambridge, at that time a stronghold of the reformed doctrine and a favourite resort of Lancashire men, where he had his quondam schoolfellow, young Lever, as a fellow collegian. At the University he greatly distinguished himself by his zeal in promoting the revival of Greek literature. In due time he obtained the degree of doctor of divinity, and was also elected a fellow of his college. He became famous for his eloquence and his success as a preacher of the reformed doctrines; and in December, 1550, he was presented by the young King Edward to the vicarage of Kendal, but did not enjoy that preferment very long. On the death of his royal patron he ranged himself on the side of the partisans of the hapless Lady Jane Grey, but he does not appear to have been very actively concerned in the futile attempt to place her upon the throne. On the accession of Queen Mary the fires of martyrdom were kindled. With the close of the short reign of Mary the glare of the Smithfield fires died out. On the accession of Elizabeth, Pilkington, being no longer in peril, returned to his own country, and on the 20th of July in the following year (1559) was elected master of St. John's College, Cambridge—that in which he had graduated. He was one of the six divines appointed to revise the Book of Common Prayer, and for these and other services he was, on the 26th December, 1560, nominated to the vacant see of Durham. On the 20th February following, Elizabeth issued her warrant for his election to the palatinate. He was consecrated on the 2nd of March, received part of the temporalities on the 25th, and on the 10th of April following was enthroned at Durham, the "great high place"— Deep in Durham's Gothic shade, where in earlier days the prince-bishop, whose worldly franchises invested him with a faint shadow of sovereign power, bearing alike There is a wide-spread belief among the people of Rivington that Pilkington was the first Protestant bishop appointed by Queen Elizabeth, but this is undoubtedly an error. Parker had been appointed to the archiepiscopal see of Canterbury in the preceding year, and many other vacant sees had also been filled up, but those of York and Durham had been purposely kept open for a year, in the hope that the former holders—Heath and Tunstall—would conform. Nothing, perhaps, more forcibly illustrates the sturdy independence and inflexible determination of the old Lancashire divine than his uncompromising resistance to the unjust attempt made by Elizabeth to appropriate to her own use, or that of some of her favourites, a portion of the temporalities of his bishopric. The revenues of the Cathedral church of Durham had attracted the cupidity of the sordid minions of the Court, who were anxious to enlarge their hereditary estates by the seizure of the Church's lands, and, at their instigation, the Queen, following the example of her father, Henry VIII., on Pilkington's nomination, had excepted out of the restitution several valuable manors and estates, a procedure that the newly-enthroned prelate, whose manly spirit, disdaining the slavish obsequiousness which characterised many of his episcopal brethren, refused to acquiesce in. He at once took measures for the recovery of the detained estates, and prosecuted his claim with so much firmness and energy, that Elizabeth, who was wont to speak of "unfrocking" contumacious bishops, had in the long run to yield, and Pilkington in 1566 had the good fortune to obtain the restoration of the whole of his lands, with the exception of Norhamshire, charged, however, with the payment of an annuity to the crown of £1,020. The bishop was no respecter of persons. If he was ready to brave the displeasure of the Queen in guarding the rights of the Church in his own diocese, he was equally willing to defend her interests elsewhere, and, as we shall INTERIOR OF DURHAM CATHEDRAL. The Church has seldom had a more faithful pastor or zealous administrator than worthy James Pilkington. In the month of October, 1561, the first year of his episcopate, he made a visitation of his diocese, passing through his native county on his way north, and that would appear to have been the occasion on which he addressed a letter of admonition to Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, on the lamentable state of ecclesiastical affairs in Lancashire, and a deplorable picture his letter presents of the Church at that time. The Archbishop was the patron and rector of the three great parishes of Rochdale, Blackburn, and Whalley, then embracing within their limits a large number of chapelries, the incumbents of which were as ill-paid as their cures were badly served; indeed, the position of the clergy was much worse after the Reformation than before, partly because of the extensive confiscations of parochial property, and partly because they lost many of the fees that had been customarily paid for religious services. William Downham was Bishop of Chester at the time—an easy-going
Though Pilkington kept his Puritanism well under control, he was uncompromising in the assertion of his Protestant principles, and the boldness with which he proclaimed them not unfrequently provoked the anger of the Papal party. The beautiful spire of St. Paul's Cathedral, the loftiest in the kingdom, which had been restored so recently as the year when Queen Mary ascended the throne, was in 1561 stricken, as was alleged, by lightning In his prosperity the Bishop was by no means unmindful of those who had been his associates in adversity. Shortly after his elevation to the Bishopric of Durham, Thomas Lever, the companion of his boyhood, his fellow-collegian at Cambridge and his friend in exile, was collated to a prebendal stall in his cathedral; and his brother, John Lever, was appointed archdeacon of Northumberland, and subsequently became Prebendary of Durham. In 1567 Pilkington made another visitation of his cathedral, when, doubtless, he felt little or no reluctance in carrying out the instructions of the Queen's Commissioners for the removal of superstitious books and ornaments and effacing idolatrous figures from church plate. It was shortly after this visitation, and while he occupied the see of Durham, that the unhappy enterprise, the "Rising of the North," occurred, when the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland took up arms and proclaimed their design of restoring the old religion. The insurrection was precipitated by the arrest of Thomas Duke of Norfolk, "the most powerful and the most popular man in England," but who, allured by ambition, and animated by a chivalrous feeling for the beautiful but ill-fated Queen of Scots, then the captive of the implacable Elizabeth, formed the intention of effecting her release and then marrying The wounds of hands and feet and side, And the sacred cross on which Jesus died, which was borne by the venerable lord of Rylstone, Richard Norton, a brave old man, whose fate and the fate of his eight sons have been preserved from the oblivion of dry annals, by the legends which a true poet Now was the North in arms; they shine In warlike trim from Tweed to Tyne, At Percy's voice: and Neville sees His followers gathering in from Tees, From Wear, and all the little rills Concealed among the forked hills. Seven hundred knights, retainers all Of Neville, at their master's call Had sat together in Raby Hall; Such strength that Earldom held of yore; Nor wanted at this time rich store, Of well appointed chivalry, And greet the old paternal shield. They heard the summons; and, furthermore, Came foot and horseman of each degree, Unbound by pledge of fealty; Appeared, with free and open hate Of novelties in church and state; Knight, burgher, yeomen and esquier, And the Romish priest, in priest's attire, And thus, in arms, a zealous band Proceeding under joint command, To Durham first their course they bear, And in St. Cuthbert's ancient seat Sang Mass,—and tore the book of prayer,— And trod the Bible beneath their feet. The revolt was quickly suppressed, and a terrible vengeance followed. Martial law was carried out and the triumph of 1569 was disgraced by fearful executions; an alderman, a priest, and above sixty others were hanged in Durham alone, and many others suffered in every market town between Newcastle and Wetherby, the "reverend grey beard," Richard Norton, and his eight sons being among the number. Thee, Norton, with thy eight good sons, They doom'd to dye, alas! for ruth! Thy reverend lockes thee could not save, Nor them their faire and blooming youthe. The princely house of Neville was entirely ruined, and the immense estates of the castles of Raby and Brancepeth, with the dependent manors, were seized by the Crown. These properties should, by right, have vested in the bishopric, according to the full right of forfeitures for treason and felony within the palatinate, but Elizabeth continued to retain possession on pretence of covering the expenses incurred in suppressing the rebellion. Pilkington claimed the forfeitures in right of his palatinate, and, in support of his claim, brought an action against the Queen for the recovery of the forfeited estates, which he prosecuted with so much vigour and success that nothing but the interposition of Parliament prevented the Sovereign being beaten by a subject in her own courts; On the first alarm of Northumberland and Westmoreland's rising, Pilkington, conscious that his reforming zeal, as well as the fact of his being a married prelate, would be likely to provoke the fury of the insurgents, removed with his family into the South, and there remained until all danger was passed. Fuller says that his two daughters were conveyed away in beggars' clothes to prevent the Papists killing them; there was, however, only one child of the marriage born at the time of the outbreak. His wife, Alice, was a daughter of Sir John Kingsmill, a Hampshire knight, but it is not known with certainty when they were married, the fact having probably been kept secret for some time on account of the strong prejudice that society—Protestant as well as Roman Catholic, acting under the influence of old traditions—had against married priests; for marriage with the clergy was then accounted as hardly respectable, and even the wives of bishops—bishops' women as they were sometimes contemptuously styled—occupied an unpleasant position in the ranks in which their right reverend husbands were accustomed to move. DURHAM CASTLE. Elizabeth had a rooted aversion to married priests, and took delight in subjecting them to annoyance and humiliation. It is recorded that in a progress she made into Essex and Suffolk in 1561, the year of Pilkington's appointment to the see of Durham, Pilkington's wife bore him four children, two sons and two daughters, all of whom were born during his occupancy of the see of Durham. The sons, Joshua and Isaac, both died young, and concerning them there is a curious tradition still current in the neighbourhood of Rivington, though possessing no historical value. On the highest point of Wilders Moor, a bleak mountain ridge within the limits of the old forest of Horwich, and about three-quarters of a mile to the south-east of Rivington Pike, are two rude piles of stone known as the Wilder Lads, or, more commonly, the Two Lads, which, according to popular belief, were erected in memory of two unfortunate youths who were "wildered" (i.e. bewildered) and lost in the snow at this place. Baines says (Hist. Lanc.) a tradition prevails in the neighbourhood that the two unfortunate youths lost in the storm, to whose memory these two piles are supposed to be erected, were the sons of Bishop Pilkington, Of the three Lancashire reformers, the friends in exile during the Marian persecutions, James Pilkington was the first who finished his work. On the 23rd of January, 1575-6, "the good old Bishop of Durham, a grave and truly reverend man, of great learning and piety, and such frugality of life as well became a modest Christian prelate," entered into his rest. He died at Bishop Auckland, and was buried there in accordance with his expressed desire with "as few Popish ceremonies as may be, or vain cost," but his remains were subsequently transferred to his cathedral at Durham, where a sumptuous monument, bearing a long Latin inscription, was erected to his memory. His "frugality of life"—for the pomp and estate usually observed by the prelates of Durham, prince-bishops of the palatinate see, were not much to his mind—enabled him to accumulate, what in those days was deemed a considerable estate, sufficient to admit of his giving his daughters, when they married, portions equal in amount (£4,000 each, it is said) to those possessed by the Princesses Frances, Pilkington's will was proved on the 18th of December, 1576, by his widow and executrix, whom he therein names as "Alice Kingsmill, my now known wife," an expression that tends to confirm the belief that his marriage was, for some time at least, kept secret, though it must have been openly avowed at the time, or shortly after his elevation to the see of Durham, for in his Confutation of an Addition, printed in 1561, the year of his preferment, in his argument against the prevailing prejudice with respect to the marriage of ecclesiastics, he says, "I am sure that many will judge that I speak this to please my wife," an evidence that his own marriage was then generally known. Though some of his contemporaries might be indolent in the discharge of their episcopal duties, Pilkington himself was a worthy son of the Church, and performed the functions of his office with all diligence and fidelity. "A bishop," he wrote, "is a name of office, labour, and pains, rather than of dignity, ease, wealth, or idleness. The word episcopus is Greek, and signifies a scout-watch, an overlooker, or spy; because he should ever be watching and warning that the devil our enemy do not enter to spoil or destroy." Though he had, while at Geneva, imbibed the principles of Puritanism, he duly conformed to the practices of the Church, from his respect to constituted authority, but all through his episcopate he manifested a strong disposition to deal tenderly with his nonconforming brethren. He was a prolific writer as well as an able and energetic administrator, and his literary productions, In one respect Pilkington may be said to have been in advance of his age. Brought up in a county where the practice of astrology and alchemy extensively prevailed, where the belief in supernatural powers was cherished and preserved long after an improved education had driven it from more civilised communities, and where witchcraft could boast its greatest number of votaries; living at a time, too, when a conjuror was reckoned a necessary official in the household of an Earl of Derby, when bishops gave authority and a form of licensing to their clergy to cast out devils, when Jewell, in a sermon preached before the Queen, could lament "the marvellous increase of witches," and when Elizabeth herself was consulting the English Faust, Dr. Dee, the future Warden of Manchester, as to the most lucky day for her coronation, it is pleasant to find the old Lancashire divine, with all the vigour of his robust intellect, exposing the generally prevailing delusions, and protesting against the casting of horoscopes and the belief in lucky and unlucky days. "What can we say for ourselves," he remarks, "but that we put great superstition in days, when we put Though himself of ancient and honourable lineage, Pilkington had little respect for the "pride of ancestry" or reverence for mere "gentle" descent, as will be seen by the following passage in his writings:—
All this is doubtless true, but the converse equally holds good, for however we may affect to despise hereditary rank there can be no doubt that the personal virtues as well as the heroic deeds of ancestors who have signalised themselves in tournament, or on the Of the monument erected to Pilkington's memory in Durham Cathedral scarce a fragment remains, but one of a more enduring character survives to perpetuate his name—the free Grammar School which he founded in his native village, and endowed with lands and rents, situate in the county of Durham, for the "bringing up, teaching, and instructing children and youth in grammar and other good learning, to continue for ever;" the school to be open, as the Queen's patent expressed it, to "all our faithful and liege people, whosoever they bee." The statutes for the government of the school contained many curious directions. The management was vested in six governors, who were "to choose one of the wisest and discreetest among themselves to be spokesman (i.e., president) for the year." The voters had to take an oath before the election, the governors and spokesman at election. The regulations respecting Some interesting particulars respecting the state of Pilkington's school a century after his death are given in a return made to Mr. Christopher Wase, one of the Superior Bedells in Oxford University, who, in the latter half of the seventeenth century had conceived the idea of publishing an account of the whole of the grammar schools in England, with a view of showing whether those foundations were being rightly used or not. The work was never published, but the returns obtained are included in the MS. collection of Mr. Wase, now preserved in the library of Corpus Christi College, Oxford. For the following transcript of that relating to Rivington we are indebted to the industrious research of Mr. J. P. Earwaker, F.S.A. There is no date appended to the return, but it was presumably written in 1673-4:— Rivington Free Schoole.
In later years the trustees obtained from Parliament an Act by which they were enabled to exchange the lands and tenements in Durham for property in the more immediate neighbourhood of the school, and the revenues having largely increased the Charity Commissioners have lately propounded a scheme for the better regulation of the foundation, under the provisions of which the old school has been rebuilt, and is now used for the purposes of an elementary school, and a new grammar school has been erected on the confines of the township. Such is the story of the school that good Bishop Pilkington launched three centuries ago, and which, through many changes and vicissitudes, has floated down the stream of time to our own day and generation. Well does the generous-hearted founder deserve the niche which Fuller has accorded to him in his gallery of "The Worthies of England." If he gathered wealth he did not forget the Divine injunction, "to do good and to distribute;" he did his best according to his lights to make his surplus wealth available for the benefit of the community to which he belonged. Though "pillared bust" or "storied urn" may no longer mark his resting place, he has himself left a more enduring monument, for The glory of one fair and virtuous action Is above all the 'scutcheons on our tomb, Or silken banners over us. His name will ever be held in honoured remembrance by Lancashire men, who will be ready to say, as Fuller said of another "Lancashire worthy"—Humphrey Chetham—"God send us more such men." |
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