Rector.Clerk,s.d.s.d.For burying in the church,1010Ditto church-yard,0606Churching a woman,0404Marrying by licence,5026Ditto without,2610Tythe pig, if seven or upwards,0400Easter dues, man and wife,0400---- each person above sixteen,0400Clerk's salary 20s. paid by the wardens; also 2d.from each house keeper at Easter.
Rector.Clerk,s.d.s.d.For burying in the church,1010Ditto church-yard,0606Churching a woman,0404Marrying by licence,5026Ditto without,2610Tythe pig, if seven or upwards,0400Easter dues, man and wife,0400---- each person above sixteen,0400Clerk's salary 20s. paid by the wardens; also 2d.from each house keeper at Easter.
From the above terrier, I am inclined to value the income at about 90l. per annum.
The benefice, in 1771, was about 350l. per annum: the late Rector, John Parsons, procured an act, in 1773, to enable the incumbent to grant building leases; the grant of a single lease, in 1777, brought the annual addition of about 170l. The income is now about 700l. and is expected, at the expiration of the leases, to exceed 2000l.
The repairs of the chancel belong to the rector, and the remainder of the building to the parish.
St. Philip's Church.
We have touched upon various objects in our peregrinations through Birmingham, which meet with approbation, though viewed through the medium of smoke; some of these, being covered with the rust of time, command our veneration; but the prospect before us is wholly modern.
We have mounted, by imperceptable gradations, from beauty to beauty, 'till we are now arrived at the summit.
If an historian had written in the last century, he would have recorded but two places of worship; I am now recording the fourteenth: but my successor, if not prevented by our own imprudence, in driving away the spirit of commerce, may record the four-and-twentieth. The artist, who carries the manufactures among foreigners, or the overseer, who wantonly loads the people with burdens, draws the wrath of the place upon his own head.
This curious piece of architecture, the steeple of which is erected after the model of St. Paul's, in London, but without its weight, does honour to the age that raised it, and to the place that contains it. Perhaps the eye of the critic cannot point out a fault, which the hand of the artist can mend: perhaps too, the attentive eye cannot survey this pile of building, without communicating to the mind a small degree of pleasure. If the materials are not proof against time, it is rather a misfortune to be lamented, than an error to be complained of, the country producing no better.
Yet, amidst all the excellencies we boast, I am sorry to charge this chief ornament with an evil which admits no cure, that of not ranging with its own coemetery, or the adjacent buildings: out of seven streets, with which it is connected, it lines with none.--Like Deritend chapel, of which I have already complained, from a strong attachment to a point of religion, or of the compass, it appears twisted out of its place. We may be delighted with a human figure, complete in stature, exactly moulded with symmetry, and set off with the graces of dress; but we should be disgusted, if his right side seemed to attempt to out-walk his left.
This defect, in religious architecture, arises from a strict adherence to the custom of the ancients, who fixed their altars towards the east. It is amasing, that even weakness itself, by long practice, becomes canonical; it gains credit by its age and its company. Hence, Sternhold and Hopkins, by being long bound up with scripture, acquired a kind of scripture authority.
The ground, originally, was part of a farm, and bore the name of the Horse-close; afterwardsBarley-close.--Thus a benign spot of earth, gave additional spirits to a man when living, and kindly covered him in its bosom when dead.
This well chosen spot, is the summit of the highest eminence in Birmingham, with a descent every way; and, when the church was erected, there were not any buildings nearer than those in Bull-street.
The land was the gift of Robert Phillips, Esq; whence the name, ancestor to William Theodore Inge, Esquire.
In all degrees of people, from the bishop to the beadle, there seems a propensity in the mind to arrive at the honours of Sainthood: by joining our names in partnership with a faint, we share with him a red letter in the almanack.
Out of six churches in Birmingham, three bear the names of the donors. St. Bartholomew's would, probably, have taken that of its founder, John Jennens, Esq; but that name happened to be anticipated by Sir John de Birmingham, who conferred it upon Deritend chapel. St. Mary's could readily perpetuate the name of its benefactress, because we had no place of worship that bore it. But as neither the popish, nor the protestant kalendar produced a St. Charles, the founder of St. Paul's was unfortunately excluded.
The gifts, which the benefactor himself believes are charitable, and expects the world to believe the same, if scrutinized, will be found to originate from various causes--counterfeits are apt to be offered in currency for sterling.
Perhapsostentationhas brought forth more acts of beneficence than charity herself; but, like an unkind parent, she disowns her offspring, and charges them upon charity.
Ostentation is the root of charity; why else are we told, in capitals, by a large stone in the front of a building--"This hospital was erected by William Bilby, in the sixty-third year of his age, 1709." Or, "That John Moore, yeoman, of Worley Wigorn, built this school, in 1730."--Nay, pride even tempts us to strut in a second-hand robe of charity, left by another; or why do we read--"These alms-houses were erected by Lench's trust, in 1764. W. WALSINGHAM, BAILIFF."
Another utters the wordcharity, and we rejoice in the echo. If we miss the substance, we grasp at the shadow.
Sometimes we assign our property for religious uses, late in the evening of life, whenenjoymentis over, and almostpossession. Thus we bequeath to piety, what we can keep no longer. We convey our name to posterity at the expence of our successor, and scaffold our way towards heaven up the walls of a steeple.
Will charity chalk up one additional score in our favour, because we grant a small portion of our land to found a church, which enables us to augment the remainder treble its value, by granting building leases? a man seldom makes a bargain for heaven, and forgets himself. Charity and self-interest, like the apple and the rind, are closely connected, and, like them, we cannot separate one without trespassing on the other.
In contributions of the lesser kind, the giver examines the quantum given by those of his own station;pridewill not suffer him to appear less than his neighbour.
Sometimes he surrenders merely through importunity, which indicates as muchcharity, as the garrison doesmerit, which surrenders when closely besieged. Neither do we fearour left hand knowing what our right hand doth, our only fear is, left the world shouldnotknow it.
This superb edifice was begun by act of Parliament, in 1711, under a commission consisting of twenty of the neighbouring gentry, appointed by the bishop of the diocese, under his episcopal seal. Their commission was to end twelve months after the erection of the church.
Though Birmingham ever was, and perhaps ever will be considered as one parish, yet a portion of land, about one hundred acres, nearly triangular, and about three fourths built up, was taken out of the centre of St. Martin's, like a shred of cloth out of a great coat, to make a less, and constituted a separate parish, by the appellation of St Philip's.
We shall describe this new boundary by an imaginary journey, for a real one perhaps was never taken since the land was first laid out, nor ever will to the end of time.
We include the warehouse, then of John Jenens, Esq; now No. 26, in High-street, penetrate through the buildings, till we come within twenty yards, of Moor-street, turn sharp to the left, cross the lower part of Castle-street, Carr's-lane, and New Meeting-street; pass close by the front of the Meeting-house, through Bank-alley, into Hen's-walk, having kept Moor-street about twenty yards to the right, all the way; we now enter that street, at the bottom of Hen's-walk, pass through the east part of Dale-end, through Stafford-street, Steelhouse-lane (then called Whittal-lane) Bull-lane (then New-hall-lane) and Mount-pleasant.
Our journey now leads us on the west of Pinfold-street, keeping it about twenty yards on our left; up Peck-lane, till we come near the top, when we turn to the right, keeping the buildings, with the Free-school in New street, on our left, into Swan-alley. We now turn up the Alley into New-street, then to the right, which leads us to the Party-wall, between No. 25 and 26, in High-street, late Jennens's, where we began.
In the new parish I have described, and during the journey, kept on the left, there seems to have been, at passing the act, twelve closes, all which are filled with buildings, except the land between New-street and Mount-pleasant, which only waits a word from the owner, to speak the houses into being.
The church was consecrated in 1715, and finished in 1719, the work of eight years; at which time the commissioners resigned their powers into the hands of the diocesan, in whom is the presentation, after having paid, it is said, the trifling sum of 5012l.--but perhaps such a work could not be completed for 20,000l.
Three reasons may be assigned, why so small a sum was expended; many of the materials were given; more of the carriage, and some heavy debts were contracted.
The urns upon the parapet of the church, which are highly ornamental, were fixed at the same time with those of the school, in about 1756.
When I first saw St. Philip's, in the year 1741, at a proper distance, uncrowded with houses, for there were none to the north, New-hall excepted, untarnished with smoke, and illuminated by a western sun, I was delighted with its appearance, and thought it then, what I do now, and what others will in future,the pride of the place.
If we assemble the beauties of the edifice, which cover a rood of ground; the spacious area of the church-yard, occupying four acres; ornamented with walks in great perfection; shaded with trees in double and treble ranks; and surrounded with buildings in elegant taste: perhaps its equal cannot be found in the British dominions.
The steeple, 'till the year 1751, contained a peal of six bells, which were then augmented to ten; at which time St. Martin's, the mother church, having only eight, could not bear to be out-numbered by a junior, though of superior elegance, therefore ordered twelve into her own steeple: but as room was insufficient for the admission of bells by the dozen, means were found to hoist them tier over tier. Though the round dozen is a complete number in the counting-house, it is not altogether so in the belfry: the octave is the most perfect concord in music, but diminishes by rising to an octave and a half; neither can that dozen well be crowded into the peal.
But perhaps the artist had another grand scheme in view, that of accommodating the town with the additional harmony of the chimes; for only a few tunes can be played on the octave, whilst the dozen will compass nearly all.
Whether we are entertained even by thisexaltedstyle of music, admits a doubt; for instead of the curious ear being charmed with distinct notes, we only hear a bustle of confused sounds, which baffle the attention too much to keep pace with the tune.
These two steeples, are ourpublicband of music: they are the onlystandingWaits of the place. Two thousand people may be accommodated in the church, but, at times, it has contained near three thousand.
In the vestry is a theological library, bequeathed by the first rector, William Higgs, for the use of the clergy in Birmingham and its neighbourhood; who left 200l. for future purchase.
Under the centre isle runs a vault, the whole length of the church, for the reception of those who chuse to pay an additional guinea.
The organ excels; the paintings, mouldings and gildings are superb: whether the stranger takes an external or an internal survey, the eye is struck with delight, and he pronounces the whole the work of a matter. Its conveniency also, can only be equalled by its elegance.
Upon application of Sir Richard Gough, to Sir Robert Walpole, then in power, George the First gave 600l. in 1725, towards finishing this church.
Three remarks naturally arise from this declaration; That the prodigious sums expended upon this pious undertaking, were beyond the ability of the inhabitants; that the debts contracted, were many years in discharging; and that one of the best of Kings, the head of the Brunswick line, bestowed a liberal benefaction upon a people not compleatly reconciled to his house.
Whether monumental decoration adds beauty to a place already beautiful, is a question. There are three very small and very elegant monuments in this church. Upon one of the south pillars, is that of the above William Higgs, who died in 1733. Upon another is that of William Vyse, the second rector, who died in 1770, at the age of 61. And, upon a north pillar, that of Girton Peak, Esq; an humane magistrate, who died in 1770, aged 48.
Internment in the church is wisely prohibited; an indecency incompatible with a civilized people. The foreigner will be apt to hold forth the barbarity of the English nation, by observing, "They introduce corruption in their very churches, and pay divine adoration upon the graves of their ancestors."
Places of worship were designed for the living, the dead give up their title with their life: besides, even small degrees of putrefaction, confined in a room where the air cannot circulate, may become prejudicial to health: it also ruins the pavement, as is done at St. Martin's. Our first inhabitants, therefore, lie contented in the church yard, by their unfortunate equals; having private sepulchres appropriated for family use--Perhaps at the last day, no inquiry will be made whether they lay on the in, or the outside of the walls.
It is difficult to traverse the elegant walks that surround this gulf of death, without contemplating, that time is drawing us towards the same focus, and that we shall shortly fall into the centre: that this irregular circle contains what was once generous and beautiful, opulent and humane. The arts took their rise in this fruitful soil: this is the grave of invention and of industry; here those who figured upon the stage are fallen, to make way for others, who must follow: though multitudes unite with the dead, the numbers of the living increase; the inhabitants change, while the genius improves. We cannot pass on without reading upon the stones, the short existence of our departed friends, perusing the end of a life with which we were well acquainted. The active motion that veered with the rude blasts of seventy years, slops in this point for ever.
The present rector, who is the third, is the Rev. Charles Newling, and the benefice something like the following:
l.s.d.A prebendal stall in the cathedralchurch of Lichfield,600Eight acres and a half of glebe land,at Long bridge, near Birmingham,3200Emoluments arising from the seats ofthe church,14000Surplice fees,5000Easter offerings,1000An estate at Sawley, in the county ofDerby, under lease for three lives,renewable by fine, at the annualrent of66134------------304134Out of which is paid to the rectorof St. Martin's, in considerationfees and offerings once appropriatedto that church,1500-----------289134
l.s.d.A prebendal stall in the cathedralchurch of Lichfield,600Eight acres and a half of glebe land,at Long bridge, near Birmingham,3200Emoluments arising from the seats ofthe church,14000Surplice fees,5000Easter offerings,1000An estate at Sawley, in the county ofDerby, under lease for three lives,renewable by fine, at the annualrent of66134------------304134Out of which is paid to the rectorof St. Martin's, in considerationfees and offerings once appropriatedto that church,1500-----------289134
There are many inducements for an author to take up the pen, but the leading motives, however disguised, seem to be pride and poverty; hence, two of the most despicable things among men, furnish the world with knowledge.
One would think, however, there can be no great inducement for a man to write what he is conscious will never be read. Under this class may be comprehended alphabetical collections, chronological tables, books of figures, occasional devotions, etc. here also I range the lists of officers in Birmingham, the annual sums expended upon the poor, and the present chapter of numbers. These are intended for occasional inspection, rather than for regular perusal: we may consider them as deserts served up for a taste only, not a dinner; yet even this rule may be broken by a resolute reader, for the late Joseph Scott, Esq; founder of the trust before-mentioned, assured me, in 1751, that he had perused Bailey's Dictionary as methodically as he had done Tom Jones; and, though a dissenter, he continued to read the Common Prayer Book from end to end, about twice a year; which is more than, perhaps, the greatest lover of that excellent composition can boast.
I shall, to avoid prolixity in a barren chapter of the two extremes of life, select about every tenth year from the register. Those years at the time of the plague, make no addition to the burials, because the unhappy victims were conveyed to Lady-wood for internment.
These lists inform us, that the number of streets, houses, inhabitants, births, burials, poor's rates, and commercial productions, increase with equal rapidity. It appears also from the register, that there were more christenings lately at St. Martin's, in one day, than the whole town produced in a year, in the 16th century--The same may be found in that of St. Phillip's.
The deaths in Deritend are omitted, being involved with those of Aston.
Year.Births.Burials.Year.Births.Burials.1555372716671461401560--37166811310215714826168125113915803725169012715015905247170017217116006232171933427016107045172042335516238166173044941516281009617405205731653--47175086010201660--75176098411431665--109177013298991666144121178016361340
Year.Births.Burials.Year.Births.Burials.1555372716671461401560--37166811310215714826168125113915803725169012715015905247170017217116006232171933427016107045172042335516238166173044941516281009617405205731653--47175086010201660--75176098411431665--109177013298991666144121178016361340
Though charity is one of the most amiable qualities of humanity, yet, like Cupid, she ought to be represented blind; or, like Justice, hood-winked. None of the virtues have been so much misapplied; giving to thehungry, is sometimes only another word for giving to theidle. We know of but two ways in which this excellence can exert itself; improving themind, and nourishing thebody. To help him whowill nothelp himself; or, indiscriminately to relieve those that want, is totally to mistake the end; for want is often met with: but to supply those whocannotsupply themselves, becomes real charity. Some worthy Christians have taken it into their heads to relieveall, for fear of omitting the right. What should we think of the constable who seizes every person he meets with, for fear of missing the thief? Between the simple words, therefore, of WILL NOT and CANNOT, runs the fine barrier between real and mistaken charity.
This virtue, so strongly inculcated by the christian system, hath, during the last seventeen centuries, appeared in a variety of forms, and some of them have been detrimental to the interest they were meant to serve:Such was the cloister. Man is not born altogether to serve himself, but the community; if he cannot exist without the assistance of others, it follows, that others ought to be assisted by him: but if condemned to obscurity in the cell, he is then fed by the aid of the public, while that public derives none from him.
General Hospital.
Estates have sometimes been devised in trust for particular uses, meant as charities by the giver, but have, in a few years, been diverted out of their original channel to other purposes.
The trust themselves, like so many contending princes, ardently druggie for sovereignty; hence,legacyanddiscordare intimate companions.
The plantation of many of our English schools sprang up from the will of the dead; but it is observable, that sterility quickly takes place; the establishment of the master being properly secured, supineness enters, and the young scions of learning are retarded in their growth.
It therefore admits a doubt, whether charitable donation is beneficial to the world; nay, the estate itself becomes blasted when bequeathed to public use, for, being the freehold of none, none will improve it: besides, the more dead land, the less scope for industry.
At the reformation, under Queen Elizabeth, charity seemed to take a different appearance: employment was found for the idle; he that was able, was obliged to labour, and the parish was obliged to assist him who could not. Hence the kingdom became replete with workhouses: these are the laudable repositories of distress.
It has already been observed, that three classes of people merit the care of society: forlorn infancy, which is too weak for its own support; old age, which has served the community, without serving itself; and accidental calamity: the two first, fall under the eye of the parish, the last, under the modern institution of the General Hospital.
The shell of this plain, but noble edifice, was erected in 1766, upon a situation very unsuitable for its elegant front, in a narrow dirty lane, with an aspect directing up the hill, which should ever be avoided.
The amiable desire of doing good in the inhabitants, seemed to have exceeded their ability; and, to the grief of many, it lay dormant for twelve years. In 1778, the matter was revived with vigor; subscriptions filled apace, and by the next year the hospital was finished, at the expence of 7137l. 10s. Though the benefactions might not amount to this enormous sum, yet they were noble, and truly characteristic of a generous people. The annual subscriptions, as they stood at Michaelmas, 1779, were 901l. 19s. and, at Midsummer, 1780, 932l. 8s. During these nine months, 529 patients were admitted, of which, 303 were cured, 93 relieved, 112 remained on the books, only 5 died, and butonewas discharged as incurable; an incontestible proof of theskillof the faculty, which is at least equalled by theirhumanity, in giving their attendance gratis.
The rules by which this excellent charity is conducted, are worthy of its authors: success hath fully answered expectation, and the building will probably stand for ages, to tell posterity a favourable tale of the present generation.
Man is evidently formed for society; the intercourse of one with another, like two blocks of marble in friction, reduces the rough prominences of behaviour, and gives a polish to the manners.
Whatever tends to promote social connection, improve commerce, or stamp an additional value upon property, is worthy of attention.
Perhaps, there is not a circumstance that points more favourably towards these great designs, than commodious roads.
According as a country is improved in her roads, so will she stand in the scale of civilization. It is a characteristic by which we may pronounce with safety. The manners and the roads of the English, have been refining together for about 1700 years. If any period of time is distinguished with a more rapid improvement in one, it is also in the other.
Our Saxons ancestors, of dusky memory, seldom stepped from under the smoke of Birmingham. We have a common observation among us, that even so late as William the Third, the roads were in so dangerous a state, that a man usually made his will, and took a formal fare-well of his friends, before he durst venture upon a journey to London; which, perhaps, was thought then, of as much consequence as a voyage to America now.
A dangerous road is unfavourable both to commerce and to friendship; a man is unwilling to venture his neck to sell his productions, or even visit his friend: if a dreadful road lies between them, it will be apt to annihilate friendship.
Landed property in particular, improves with the road. If a farmer cannot bring his produce to market, he cannot give much for his land, neither can that land well be improved, or the market properly supplied. Upon a well formed road, therefore, might, with propriety, be placed the figures of commerce, of friendship, and of agriculture, as presiding over it.
There are but very few observations necessary in forming a road, and those few are very simple; to expel whatever is hurtful, and invite whatever is beneficial.
The breaking up of a long frost, by loosening the foundations, is injurious, and very heavy carriages ought to be prevented, 'till the weather unites the disjointed particles, which will soon happen.
But the grand enemy is water; and as this will inevitably fall, every means should be used to discharge it: drains ought to be frequent, that the water may not lie upon the road.
The great benefits arethe sunand thewind:the surveyor should use every method for the admission of these friendly aids, that they may dispel the moisture which cannot run off.
For this purpose, all public roads ought to be sixty feet wide; all trees and hedges within thirty feet of the centre, be under the controul of the commissioners, with full liberty of drawing off the water in what manner they judge necessary.
The Romans were the most accomplished masters we know of in this useful art; yet even they seem to have forgot the under drain, for it is evident at this day, where their road runs along the declivity of a hill, the water dams up, flows over, and injures the road.
Care should be taken, in properly forming a road at first, otherwise you may botch it for a whole century, and at the end of that long period, it will be only a botch itself.
A wide road will put the innocent traveller out of fear of the waggoners; not the most civilized of the human race.
From Birmingham, as from a grand centre, issues twelve roads, that point to as many towns; some of these, within memory, have scarcely been passable; all are mended, but though much is done, more is wanted. In an upland country, like that about Birmingham, where there is no river of size, and where the heads only of the streams show themselves: the stranger would be surprised to hear, that through most of these twelve roads he cannot travel in a flood with safety. For want of causeways and bridges, the water is suffered to flow over the road, higher than the stirrup: every stream, though only the size of a tobacco-pipe, ought to be carried through an under drain, never to run over the road.
At Saltley, in the way to Coleshill, which is ten miles, for want of a causeway, with an arch or two, every flood annoys the passenger and the road: at Coleshill-hall, 'till the year 1779, he had to pass a dangerous river.
One mile from Birmingham, upon the Lichfield road, sixteen miles, to the disgrace of the community, is yet a river without a bridge. In 1777, the country was inclined to solicit Parliament for a turnpike-act, but the matter fell to the ground through private views: one would think, that the penny can never be ill laid out, which carries a man ten miles with pleasure and safety. The hand of nature hath been more beneficent, both to this, and to the Stafford road, which is twenty-eight miles, than that of art.
The road to Walfall, ten miles, is ratherbelow indifferent.
That to Wolverhampton, thirteen miles, is much improved since the coal-teams left it.
The road to Dudley, ten miles, is despicable beyond description. The unwilling traveller is obliged to go two miles about, through a bad road, to avoid a worse.
That to Hales-Owen, eight miles, like the life of man, is checkered with good and evil; chiefly the latter.
To Bromsgrove, thirteen miles, made extremely commodious for the first four, under the patronage of John Kettle, Esq; in 1772, at the expence of near 5000l. but afterwards is so confined, that two horses cannot pass without danger; the sun and the winds are excluded, the rivers lie open to the stranger, and he travels through dirt 'till Midsummer.
To Alcester, about twenty, formed in 1767, upon a tolerable plan, but is rather too narrow, through a desolate country, which at present scarcely defrays the expence; but that country seems to improve with the road.
Those to Stratford and Warwick, about twenty miles each, are much used and much neglected.
That to Coventry, about the same distance, can only be equalled by the Dudley road. The genius of the age has forgot, in some of these roads to accommodate the foot passenger with a causeway.
The surveyor will be inclined to ask, How can a capital be raised to defray this enormous expence? Suffer me to reply with an expression in the life of Oliver Cromwell, "He that lays out money when necessary, and only then, will accomplish matters beyond the reach of imagination."
Government long practised the impolitic mode of transporting vast numbers of her people to America, under the character of felons; these, who are generally in the prime of life, might be made extremely useful to that country which they formerly robbed, and against which, they are at this moment carrying arms. It would be easy to reduce this ferocious race under a kind of martial discipline; to badge them with a mark only removeable by the governors, for hope should ever be left for repentance, and to employ them in the rougher arts of life, according to the nature of the crime, and the ability of body; such as working the coal mines in Northumberland, the lead mines in Derbyshire, the tin mines in Cornwall, cultivating waste lands, banking after inundations, forming canals, cleansing the beds of rivers, assisting in harvest, and in FORMING and MENDING the ROADS:these hewers of wood and drawers of waterwould be a corps of reserve against any emergency. From this magazine of villiany, the British navy might be equipped with, considerable advantage.
An act was obtained, in 1767, to open a cut between Birmingham and the coal delphs about Wednesbury.
The necessary article of coal, before this act, was brought by land, at about thirteen shillings per ton, but now at seven.
It was common to see a train of carriages for miles, to the great destruction of the road, and the annoyance of travellers.
This dust is extended in the whole to about twenty-two miles in length, 'till it unites with what we may justly term the grand artery, or Staffordshire Canal; which, eroding the island, communicates with Hull, Bristol and Liverpool. The expence was about 70,000l. divided into shares 140l. each, of which no man can purchase more than ten, and which now sell for about 370l.
The proprietors took a perpetual lease of six acres of land, of Sir Thomas Gooch, at 47l. per annum, which is converted into a wharf, upon the front of which is erected an handsome office for the dispatch of business.
A Plan of the Navigable Canal from Birmingham to Autherley.
Navigation Office.
This watery passage, exclusive of loading the proprietors with wealth, tends greatly to the improvement of some branches of trade, by introducing heavy materials at a small expence, such as pig iron for the founderies, lime-stone, articles for the manufacture of brass and steel, also stone, brick, slate, timber, &c.
It is happy for the world, that public interest is grafted upon private, and that both flourish together.
This grand work, like other productions of Birmingham birth, was rather hasty; the managers, not being able to find patience to worm round the hill at Smethwick, or cut through, have wisely travelled over it by the help of twelve locks, with six they mount the summit, and with six more descend to the former level; forgetting the great waste of water, and the small supply from the rivulets, and also, the amazing loss of of time in climbing this curious ladder, consisting of twelve liquid steps. It is worthy of remark, that the level of the earth, is nearly the same at Birmingham as at the pits: what benefit then would accrue to commerce, could the boats travel a dead flat of fourteen miles without interruption? The use of the canal would increase, great variety of goods be brought which are now excluded, and these delivered with more expedition, with less expence, and the waste of water never felt; but, by the introduction of twelve unnecessary locks, the company may experience five plagues more than fell on Egypt.
The boats are nearly alike, constructed to fit the locks, carry about twenty-five tons, and are each drawn by something like the skeleton of a horse, covered with skin: whether he subsists upon the scent of the water, is a doubt; but whether his life is a scene of affliction, is not; for the unfeeling driver has no employment but to whip him from one end of the canal to the other. While the teams practised the turnpike road, the lash was divided among five unfortunate animals, but now the whole wrath of the driver falls upon one.
We can scarcely view a boat travelling this liquid road, without raising opposite sensations--pleased to think of its great benefit to the community, and grieved to behold wanton punishment.
I see a large field of cruelty expanding before me, which I could easily prevail with myself to enter; in which we behold the child plucking a wing and a leg off a fly, to try how the poor insect can perform with half his limbs; or running a pin through the posteriors of a locust, to observe it spinning through the air, like a comet, drawing a tail of thread. If we allow, man has a right to destroy noxious animals, we cannot allow he has a right to protract their pain by a lingering death. By fine gradations the modes of cruelty improve with years, in pinching the tail of a cat for the music of her voice, kicking a dog because we have trod upon his foot, or hanging him forfun, 'till we arrive at the priests in the church of Rome, who burnt people for opinion; or to the painter, who begged the life of a criminal, that he might torture him to death with the severest pangs, to catch the agonizing feature, and transfer it into his favourite piece, of a dying Saviour. But did that Saviour teach such doctrine? Humanity would wish rather to have lost the piece, than have heard of the cruelty. What, if the injured ghost of the criminal is at this moment torturing that of the painter?--
But as this capacious field is beyond the line I profess, and, as I have no direct accusation against the people of my regard, I shall not enter.
Cooper's-mill, situated upon the verge of the parishes of Afton and Birmingham, 400 yards below this bridge, was probably first erected in the the peaceable ages of Saxon influence, and continued a part of the manorial estate 'till the disposal of it in 1730.
Before the water was pounded up to supply the mill, it must have been so shallow, as to admit a passage between Digbeth and Deritend, over a few stepping stones; and a gate seems to have been placed upon the verge of the river, to prevent encroachments of the cattle.
This accounts for the original name, which Dugdale tells us wasDerry-yate-end:derry, low; yate, gate; end, extremity of the parish; with which it perfectly agrees.
The mill afterwards causing the water to be dammed up, gave rise to a succession of paltry bridges, chiefly of timber, to preserve a communication between the two streets.
But in later ages, the passage was dignified with those of stone. In 1750, a wretched one was taken down, and the present bridge erected by Henry Bradford and John Collins, overseers of the highway, consisting of five arches; but the homely style, the deep ascent, and the circumscribed width prevents encomium.