[35] Did this designation—arising, we presume, from making frequent attestations—give rise to “Attenbrooke,” “Addenbrook,” and similar surnames?[37] On another page we have spoken of a later member of this family, who, by indenture, dated 29th of May, 1706, bequeathed a sum of money to the poor of Madeley, and of Comerford Brooks, who, in consideration of the said sum, £40, and a further sum of £30 paid him by Audley Bowdler and others, granted three several cottages in Madeley Wood, the rent and profits of which were to be devoted to the use of the poor of the parish of Madeley, in such manner as the grantees, with the consent of the vicar and parish officers, should think lit. This is the latest notice we have obtained. The Basil Brooke here spoken of is the one also previously referred to in our introduction, as fourth in descent from a gallant knight in the reign of King Charles, and who is said to have secreted his Majesty in a square hole behind the wainscoating of the chapel, which the inmates of the Court-house describe as “King Charles’s Hole.” Of the charity we shall speak under the head of “Benefactions,” later on.[40] It was from a subsequent sale of this property that the old Poor-House was built.[54] For further particulars relating to King Charles’s Visit, see Appendix.[121] We have before us an octavo book, of a hundred pages, written as late as 1820, by James Heaton, entitled “The Demon Expelled.” In his introduction he laments that Christians have of late years “lightly ridiculed the existence of apparitions, witches, and demoniacs.” In the days of our fathers, venerable divines and “learned men, ornaments of the church and the state,” he tells us, believed in these things, and he quotes Wesley, Samuel Clarke, and others in support of his views. He commences by gravely telling us that the boy “had been frightened by being shut up by himself in a school, that he had been blistered all over the head, bled repeatedly, and was taking medicines, and that these produced fainting, profuse perspiration, and sickness. They prayed and sang around him for four or five hours at a stretch, twenty or thirty of them at a time, the boy being tied down to prevent him running away, till at last the lad refused to hold a testament in his hands, and the sight of a hymn-book put him into convulsions. Although seven preachers and thirty other people were present, praying and singing did not avail till they adjured the evil spirit, mentally, telling him to depart, and after arguing and talking to them for some time through the lad’s nose the demon finally took his departure.”[175] Mr. Brown is an innkeeper; the sign is the “Turner’s Arms,” and over a glass of his home-brewed the following conversation with the author ensued. He said, “I turned all the wood-work which required turning for the Anstice Memorial, both when it was first built and when it was restored.” Author: “Well, and you tried another art Mr. Brown,”—this with a look at Mrs. Brown, who sat on the opposite side of the fire—“You tried the art of match-making; and really Mrs. B. must have been a courageous woman to allow you to succeed.”

This remark brought out Mrs. B., who now joined in the conversation, and under a little gentle pressure, gave us some particulars as to how the marriage came about, and how after sundry visits of her armless suitor, to Birmingham, she was wooed and won.

“But how did you manage to put the ring on, Mr. Brown?”

“Oh,” said Brown laughing, “I could have managed that if they had given me time, but the clergyman, mind you, was a good sort of man, and he said, ‘Allow me to help you,’ and he slipped on the ring.”

Mrs. Brown, who is a comely-looking woman, proceeded to tell how the parson called upon her former mistress, and related the circumstance with great glee.[235] Mr. Dyas had previously had a seat at the Board.[242] Among the papers met with in the old building was one dated April 29th, 1805, entitled, an assessment of fivepence in the pound for the purpose of raising part of the sum of £100 levied on this parish of Madeley for deficiency of the Army of Reserve, and Regiments of the Militia, 5th of February, 1805. The following names and sums occur:—

[253] A still greater fright was experienced by the driver of a hearse from the Tontine. A man named Holyoake, a sort of half-witted fellow, who had a fancy for attending funerals on both sides the Severn, got into the hearse after the coffin had been removed, and it being a hot day went to sleep. Poor “Billy” did not wake till the hearse had been put in the coach-house, when one of the establishment going in, Billy called out from his retreat “How go mon,” and the man rushed from the place in a fright that is said to have turned his hair white.[277] Sometimes called Culbrok.[292] Barnabas Spruce had been Cashier at the Bedlam Works under William Reynolds; he kept a public house near the old water engine in the Lloyds, which was known and patronised for miles round for old beer. William Reynolds, Benjamin Edge, and others of that class were accustomed to meet there. The sign was “the Newhill Pit.” Barnabus died Jan. 1833. At the funeral on the 24th, as a last and fitting tribute to so worthy a brewer of good beer, a large number assembled. There were 37 horsemen, who had hatbands and gloves; and 40 gallons of ale were drank before starting to Madeley Church.[300] It would be impossible for those not then old enough to take cognizance of what was passing around them to conceive the bitterness of the controversy, or the unfair advantage some of the sects sought to take of the educational-movement. Among others, the Rev. Mr. Tilley, Baptist Minister of Bridgnorth, made it his business to make the circuit of this district to publicly warn the people against what he described as a Jesuitical scheme on the part of Government to entrap and enslave the people, by subsidising the teachers. His statements being challenged by the present writer, at a meeting in the Wesleyan Chapel, Coalbrookdale, a public discussion was held in the Boys School-room, Mr. Crookes in the chair.[306] These, with their associated fossils, were sold to the Government: some were exchanged with the representative of a French Museum; others are still to be seen in the National Museum, Jermyn Street.[318] When W. Anstice, Esq., father of the present W. R. Anstice, Esq., was adding to his collection, one of the men brought him one of these fossils, remarking, “well measter, I’ve brought something at last.” Mr. A.—“Well Baugh, what is it?” Baugh, drawing it slowly from his flannel; “well I dunno know, but I’ll tell you my opinion. My opinion is that it is a piece of the seat of Noah’s breeches; or else Noah must of sat down on a soft piece of rock after the Flood and left the impression of his corduroys!” We need scarcely say that the story excited a roar at the time, or that its repetition when well told has raised many a broad grin since.[325] It was a lay too in another sense; for some forty years ago the share of a plough, held by a man named Palmer, drove through the end of a leaden pipe, which had been closed at each end and which on being opened was found to contain a number of gold coins piled closely together; the larger ones, the size of half-crowns, in the centre; others the size of shillings at each end of them; and others the size of sixpences at each end of these. Singularly enough there was neither date nor inscription on either; so that who laid them by is uncertain.[333] A chest was found in this house a few years ago with an ancient date, and is now in possession of Mrs. Beckett, Nee Edge, of Sheffield.[340] See appendix.