Chapter 6

“Last Thursday, about five in the morning, the heads of Thomas Siddal and Thomas Deacon were fixed upon the Exchange. Great numbers have been to view them; and yesterday, betwixt eight and nine, Dr. Deacon, a non-juring priest, and father to one of them, made a full stop near the Exchange, pulled off his hat, and made a bow to them with great reverence. He afterwards stood some time looking at them. A gentleman of the town was with him, and a considerable number of spectators were present. He and some of his flock have been seen to do so before several times.”

This act, innocent and natural enough in itself, was regarded as popery—a worshipping of saints—and gave birth to not a few squibbs and verses. The following was by a Quaker:—

“Doffing the hat I hold no sign of grace,Saving in prayer, which was perhaps the case;But yet, my friend, I hope it may be said,I’d rather see a hat off than a head.”

“Doffing the hat I hold no sign of grace,

Saving in prayer, which was perhaps the case;

But yet, my friend, I hope it may be said,

I’d rather see a hat off than a head.”

Another letter, dated October 11, 1746, says:—

“The two rebel heads are revered, and almost adored, as trophies of martyrdom. The father of one of them (who is a non-juring bishop), as he passes by, frequently pulls off his hat, and looks at them above a minute, with a solemn, complacential silence. Some suppose, he offers up a prayer for them; others, to them. His church daily increases, and he is in the highest credit and intimacy with the most of our clergy.”

This was replied to in a somewhat long article. The writer says, Dr. Deacon has told him that he “never passed by his son’s head but once; and then, indeed, he did pull off his hat.” In reference to Deacon’s large and growing church, it is added:—

“I cannot find above a score, and those of no great figure or substance, who are partakers with him in his religious singularity. Besides, what connection is there between politics and the Doctor’s restoring primitive ecclesiastical usages? What has the mixt-cup, infant communion, trine-immersion, etc., to do with King George and the Pretender?”

The writer continues:—

“The Doctor, I own, is respected by most of the clergy; and, I will add, by most of the laity too; but what then? I could name in turn several rigid Dissenters in thehighest credit and intimacywithsomeof our clergy; and, if it be wrong (which is indeed a new doctrine to me) for the clergy to respect and converse with persons of different opinions in religion, I think the character of a clergyman of the Church of England in much less danger from his acquaintance with a non-juring bishop than with a Calvinistical Dissenter.”

In a letter, dated December 9, 1746, Dr. Deacon writes:—

“I have not adopted the political principles of indefeasible and hereditary right into my religion, and make these an essential part of it; and that none can become members of the Church to which I belong, that are not enemies to the present government. I do hereby declare that the same is utterly false. I adopt no political principles into my religion but what are expressed in our own Common Prayer Book, entitled, “A Compleat Collection of Devotions.”

Much recrimination followed. It was broadly stated inWhitworth’s Magazine, and absolutely denied in theChester Courant, that, whilst the Rebels were at Manchester, Dr. Deacon “had the very distinguished honour paid him of being escorted by a file of musqueteers to the Pretender’s lodgings;” and one of Whitworth’s poetasters favoured the public with the following:—

“The de’il has set these heads to view,And put them upon poles;Poor de’il, ’twas all that he could do,When God had ta’en their souls.”

“The de’il has set these heads to view,

And put them upon poles;

Poor de’il, ’twas all that he could do,

When God had ta’en their souls.”

Further quotations would be useless and wearisome. Many of the poetical scraps strongly resemble the poetry of Dr. Byrom, an undoubted Jacobite and a friend of Clayton. His three poems,—“A Dialogue, occasioned by the March of the Highlanders into Lancashire, in the Year 1745”; “A Dialogue about compelling a Person to take the Oaths to the Government”; and “A Genuine Dialogue, between a Gentlewoman at Derby and her Maid, in the beginning of December, 1745,” are ample proofs of his sympathy with the non-jurors, and of his ardent attachment to the Stuarts; and, though it might be rash to assert with positiveness that he was actually the author of the Jacobite versicles in theChester Courant, it is not unwarrantable to affirm that they bear a striking similitude to his well-known lines:—

“God bless the King, and bless the Faith’s Defender!God bless—no harm in blessing—the Pretender!But who Pretender is, and who is King,Why, bless us all, that’s quite another thing.”

“God bless the King, and bless the Faith’s Defender!

God bless—no harm in blessing—the Pretender!

But who Pretender is, and who is King,

Why, bless us all, that’s quite another thing.”

Of Clayton’s participation in this Jacobinical controversy there can be little doubt. In fact, he is said to have assisted in procuring a printing press for Joseph Harrop, who had been one of Whitworth’s apprentices. Harrop began the publication of a paper, in opposition to that of his late master, and to that paper Clayton was an important contributor.[44]Clayton’s Jacobite leanings were notorious. InWhitworth’s Magazine, for November 20, 1746, he was publicly rebuked, because one of his senior scholars had recently affronted a lady at the close of public service in the church by shouting, “Down with the Rump;” an affront, however, which was “very pardonable in the scholar, since that was a health at the master’s table.”

Clayton’s praying for the Pretender, in the public streets of Salford, has been already mentioned. It is also said, by one who knew him personally,[45]that he visited Prince Charles atthe Palace Inn, paid him profound respect, and was regarded as a sort of royal chaplain. Wheeler, in his “History of Manchester,” asserts that when the government sent to Manchester to search for those who had shown disloyalty to the House of Brunswick, Clayton absconded. Be that as it may, he was placed under suspension by his bishop, and was subjected to the painful penalty of a long-continued silence in the church.[46]On resuming his ministerial duties, after his inhibition was ended, he displayed considerable keenness, and, perhaps, some degree of irreverence in the selection of his text. The Bishop of Chester, having commanded him to preach before him, the bold Jacobite, who had so long been silent, but was now again allowed to speak, somewhat startled both the bishop and the congregation by reading as his text, “I became dumb, and opened not my mouth, for Thou didst it.”[47]

There can be no question of the purity of Clayton’s motives, but his openly avowed adherence to the cause of the Pretender involved him in serious troubles. To say nothing of his ministerial suspension, he was, for years afterwards, the target of his townsmen’s malice. Some hated him, but others loved him; and the two united turned his life into a turmoil. Hence the following, taken from a work entitled, “Jacobite and Non-Juring Principles freely examined,” and published, in Manchester, against Dr. Deacon, by J. Owen, in 1748. Speaking of Clayton, Owen asks:—

“If you are the loyal people you represent yourselves to be, whence happens it that there has been such a flush of joy, discovered by your friends, for alittle, seditious priest, by virtue of the Act of Indemnity, escaping that justice which was upon thewingto pursue him? Whence was it that the bells rang on the occasion for days together? Was it not by way of gratefulTe Deum, for the great and undeserved deliverance? Whence was it that this,—shall I call himReverendTeacher ofBabes,—has such numbers of his youngfry, as I am informed he has, clad in the livery of rebellion? Is it not to convince the world that there is no heresy in Scotch plaid, when wore only as a badge of Romish superstition? It must be so, unless you can believe,—and believe it who can!—that plaid, politics, and popery are this gentleman’s aversion.”

Clayton’s school has just been mentioned,—a school, perhaps,commenced in consequence of his clerical suspension.[48]His residence was in Greengate, Salford, and the present well-known Methodist Chapel, in Gravel Lane, stands on what was once his garden. Here he ably conducted his classical academy, not a few of his pupils becoming graduates at the Oxford University. Here he kept a favourite monkey which came to a cruel and untimely end; for his pupils, either in wanton mischief or temporary spite, seized poor Pug, and fastened him to a stake in the vicinity of a hive of bees; and then so exasperated the apiarian insects, that the excited and miserable monkey was literally stung to death. At Kersall Cell, the seat of the Byrom family at Manchester, there is a large original oil-painting representing the interior of Clayton’s School in Salford, and a full-length portrait of Clayton himself, dressed in a blue velvet gown, and surrounded by his scholars.

Little more remains to be said of this sincere and earnest high church clergyman. He was stiff in his churchmanship, but was greatly respected. His Jacobite inclinations might be foolish, but they were not wicked, and were not peculiar to himself. Many of the most learned and pious and useful men then existing entertained the same sentiments and feelings. They were doubtless mistaken; but they were honest, and merited forbearance more than punishment. It is said that, in after years, Mr. Clayton’s opinions were greatly modified; and that, in fact, he became a Hanoverian. Perhaps there is no absolute proof of such a politico-religious change; but a caricature (now extremely scarce) was published, in which he was represented as standing on a pedestal, with two faces looking in opposite directions; on his breast was inscribed, “The art of trimming;” in his left hand was a scroll with “God bless King James III.” upon it; and in his right another, bearing the inscription of “Charles III.” The remainder of the picture consisted of a view of Manchester Old Church, the initials of Prince Charles, sundry portraits, a box and dice, a schoolmaster’s birchen rod, a broken punch-bowl, a dog snatching at a shadow, and finally two fighting cats. At the foot of the engraving was written:—

“Lye on! while my revenge shall beTo speak the very truth of thee.”

“Lye on! while my revenge shall be

To speak the very truth of thee.”

For twenty years, Clayton was chaplain of the Collegiate Church of Manchester; and, in 1760, was elected a fellow thereof, in the place of Mr. Crouchley, deceased.[49]Nine years afterwards, in 1769, he preached the sermon at the consecration of St. John’s Church, Manchester, founded by Edward Byrom, Esq., the son of his warmly attached friend, Dr. Byrom. He died September 25, 1773. His funeral sermon was preached by his intimate friend, the Rev. Thomas Aynscough, M.A., from the words, “We took sweet counsel together, and walked unto the house of God in company.” His old pupils erected a monument to his memory, in the Collegiate Church, bearing the following inscription:—

“Sacred to the Memory of the Rev. John Clayton, M.A.,Successively Chaplain and Fellow of this Church,Who died September 25th, 1773, Aged 64 Years.This Monument is erected by his Scholars,A grateful Token of their Affection and Esteem.He had endeared himself to themby his manly Cheerfulness, and strict Integrity,diffusive Charity, heroic Forgiveness,and Serenity of Temper under Disappointments;his judicious Fidelity to guard againstthe Dangers of Vice, and Follies of Ignorance,by forming the Man, the Scholar, and the Christian,in every Mind submitted to his Cultivation;his ardent Zeal for true Religion;warm Attachment to the Church of England;and unwearied Discharge of all the Laboursof a conscientious Parish Priest;by the uncommon Lustre of his declining Years,wherein he bore the sharpest Agoniesof a painful and humiliating Disease,with the Fortitude of Faith, the Resignation of Hope,and the strong Consolation of a well-spent Life.”

This is high praise, but not unmerited,—given not by strangers, who never saw him, but by those who knew him best. Old Manchester Methodists used to describe him as being about five feet eight inches in stature, somewhat portly,dignified in gait, wearing an enormous wig, always deeply serious, a rigid disciplinarian among his scholars and choristers, a pattern of canonical regularity in the performance of his ministerial duties, and very venerable in appearance at the close of life.

Though a scholar and a man of considerable mental power, he seems to have published nothing, except the Sermon already mentioned, his Jacobinical strictures in theChester Courant, and a sixpenny pamphlet, with the following title, “Friendly Advice to the Poor; Written and Published, at the Request of the late and present Officers of the Town of Manchester, by John Clayton, M.A. Manchester: Printed by Joseph Harrop, opposite the Clock End of the Exchange; for Messrs. Newton’s, Booksellers, 1755.” 47 pp.

Clayton was a faithful and fearless friend. He had no notion of using lollipops when bitters were required. His “advice” was “friendly”; but the opposite of fulsome. In his municipal publication, he delivers himself in no measured terms. He writes:—

“If in any passage of the following Address, the Poor may seem to be treated with rigour, let it not be censured as proceeding from sourness and severity of temper; but be considered as a proof, that the author is in earnest, and desirous of recommending this Tract to the serious unprejudiced consideration of his readers. He has upon all proper occasions shown himself ready to plead the cause of the poor and needy; and, therefore, hopes he may be considered as still walking charitably, though he does, with all plainness of speech and befitting Christian liberty, rebuke that spirit of laziness, luxury, and mismanagement, which is gone out into the world, and which particularly reigns amongst the poor of this town, and to which, in a great measure, all their miseries are owing.”

After this exordium, follows his castigation. He reminds his readers of the numerous charitable institutions of the town, for “lodging, clothing, and feeding the poor; for breeding up their children in useful Christian knowledge, and putting them out to proper trades; for helping young people at their first setting out in the world; for maintaining and relieving the sick and maimed; and, lastly, for succouring and supporting the impotent and aged.” He tells them, that, the town abounds

“With such variety of manufactures, as, one would think, might furnish every one, that is able and willing to work, with employment and sustenance.Nay, there are many branches of business that require so little skill or labour, as that neither children nor old people need to be totally excluded from their share of them; so that a numerous family,—that common occasion of distress,—far from being a burden here, seems rather to be a blessing to its master; for most of the members of it, if properly managed, are able to get their livelihood; and, by the overplus of their gains, may contribute to maintain the impotent part of the household.”“Many of the poor, however, refuse or neglect to help themselves, and thereby disable their betters from effectually helping them. They have an abject mind, which entails their miseries upon them; a mean, sordid spirit, which prevents all attempts of bettering their condition. They are so familiarized to filth and rags, as renders them in a manner natural; and have so little sense of decency, as hardly to allow a wish for it a place in their hearts.”

“Many of the poor, however, refuse or neglect to help themselves, and thereby disable their betters from effectually helping them. They have an abject mind, which entails their miseries upon them; a mean, sordid spirit, which prevents all attempts of bettering their condition. They are so familiarized to filth and rags, as renders them in a manner natural; and have so little sense of decency, as hardly to allow a wish for it a place in their hearts.”

Clayton acknowledges, that, there are many exceptions of “edifying examples of industry, frugality, and good economy;” but he maintains, that, generally speaking, his description is painfully correct. The town swarmed with “loiterers”; and “common custom had established so many holidays, that few of the manufacturing work-folks were closely and regularly employed above two thirds of their time;” the result being “that every little accident, that prevented a single week’s work, reduced them absolutely to the state of paupers.” Besides this, “it frequently happened, that, the week’s labour of an industrious family, were swallowed up in a day’s debauch of the extravagant master.” Vice is contagious, and the pestilent example of masters filled the streets of Manchester “with idle, ragged children; who were not only losing their time, but learning habits of gaming; which constantly produced lying, quarrelling, profane swearing and cursing; and frequently, led to pilfering and stealing, and every degree of wickedness and enormity.” Added to this, while “the husband wasted his time and squandered his substance at the alehouse, the wife was as often wasteful at the tea-table, as the other was prodigal over his cups; for, strange as it might appear, it was a truth that even this wretched piece of luxury, this shameful devourer of time and money, had found its way into the houses of the poor; and it was no unusual thing to find a miserable family, with hardly rags to cover their nakedness, in a wretched garret, or more loathsome cellar, fooling away a precious hour, and spending more money over this confessedlyhurtful food,” (beverage) “than would have furnished a good meal or two of wholesome diet.” In fact, “ale, gin, and tea mainly swallowed up that slender income, which might have been turned to much better account, had it been laid out with the baker and the butcher.”

Clayton adds mismanagement to his charges of idleness and luxury. There was a want of “good housewifry,” of “frugal cookery,” and of domestic cleanliness.

Another extract must suffice:—

“We cannot walk the streets without being annoyed with such filth as is a public nuisance; as well as seeing such objects as provoke resentment and aversion. We are grown infamous for a general want of good manners in our populace; and no wonder, because they are bred up in such habits of nastiness, as, in a manner, break through the ties of natural modesty, and set them beyond all sense of shame. The streets are no better than a common dunghill; and more sacred places are most shamefully polluted. Our very church-yards are profaned with such filth as was once intended to create a detestation and abhorrence even of idol temples;—I mean they are rendered no better than errant draught-houses. Common decency will not allow me to be more particular upon so loathsome a subject; and, if enough is said to be understood, it is to be hoped it will effect a reformation.”

Clayton, besides being an able instructor of the young, and an indefatigable parish priest, wished to be a social reformer; and, certainly, his services, in this respect, were greatly needed. His picture of Manchester, a little more than a hundred years ago, is far from savoury; but there can be little doubt of its being true. Clayton’s plain speaking would hardly be tolerated at the present day; but, notwithstanding that, perhaps, it might be useful. At all events, one cannot but admire the stern fidelity of this really kind and exemplary visitor of the poor and friendless, in dealing so faithfully with his fellow-townsmen, who, by their idleness and extravagance, systematically reduced themselves to rags and ruin; and, if the above extracts answer no other purpose, they will not be useless in helping to illustrate the character and principles of this Oxford Methodist.[50]

Clayton’s life was not mis-spent; but it might have been much more useful if his friendship with the Wesleys had not been broken. John Wesley, between the years 1738 and 1773, visited Manchester more than twenty times; and some of these visits were so memorable, that, Clayton must have heard of them; and, yet, there is not the slightest evidence of any renewal of that fraternal intercourse which was interrupted when Wesley began to preach salvation by faith only, and, in consequence, was excluded from the pulpits of the Established Church. This was heresy too great for a high churchman to overlook. To be saved by faith in Christ, instead of by sacraments, fasts, penances, ritualism, and good works was an unpardonable novelty, deserving of Clayton’s life-long censure; and hence, after 1738, the two old Oxford friends seem to have been separated till they met in heaven. It is rather remarkable, that, Wesley’s first visit to Manchester, subsequent to his conversion, was at the very time when the Jacobite controversy, already mentioned, was at its height; and that Wesley preached at Salford Cross, immediately adjoining Clayton’s residence. He writes:—

“1747, May 7.—We came to Manchester between one and two. I had no thought of preaching here, till I was informed, John Nelson had given public notice, that I would preach at one o’clock. Their house would not contain a tenth part of the people; and how the unbroken spirits of so large a town would endure preaching in the street, I knew not. But after considering, that, I was not going a warfare at my own cost, I walked strait to Salford Cross. A numberless crowd of people partly ran before, partly followed after me. I thought it best not to sing, but, looking round; asked abruptly, ‘Why do you look as if you had never seen me before? Many of you have seen me in the neighbouring church, both preaching and administering the sacrament.’ I then began, ‘Seek ye the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.’ None interrupted at all or made any disturbance, till, as I was drawing to a conclusion, a big man thrust in, with three or four more, and bade them bring out the engine. Our friends desired me to remove into a yard just by, which I did, and concluded in peace.”

Clayton at the time was suspended from exercising ministerial functions by his bishop; but he was probably in Manchester,and in a neighbouring house; but there was no recognition of his quondam friend. Wesley might have called upon him; but perhaps Clayton’s dubious position, as a clergyman suspended for his Jacobinical leanings, prevented this. Wesley himself had been falsely accused of being a friend of the Pretender, and common prudence dictated the inexpediency of seeking the company of one who had shown Charles Edward such marks of sympathy and respect.

At his next visit but one, Wesley writes:—

“1752, March 27.—Being Good Friday, I went to the Old Church, where Mr. Clayton read Prayers; I think the most distinctly, solemnly, and gracefully of any man I ever heard; and the behaviour of the whole congregation was serious and solemn in every part of the service. But I was surprised to see such a change in the greater part of them, as soon as the sacrament was over. They were then bowing, courtesying, and talking to each other, just as if they were going from a play.”

Did Wesley join in this sacramental service? Was Clayton one of the administrators? Was there any intercourse between the two?

Another of Wesley’s visits was in 1755, the year in which Clayton published his “Friendly Advice to the Poor”; and Wesley’s entry in his journal shows that reformation was needed not only among the working-classes, but their superiors.

“1755, April 9.—In the evening I preached at Manchester. The mob was tolerably quiet as long as I was speaking, but immediately after raged horribly. This, I find, has been their manner for some time. No wonder; since the good justices encourage them.”

It was a year after this, when Charles Wesley attended the Collegiate church every day for a whole week, and every day stood close to Clayton, and yet the latter would not even look at him.

Here we must leave the Jacobite Churchman. Of his sincerity, and of his earnest purpose faithfully to fulfil his office as a minister of the Church of England, there can be no question; but, remembering the sacred associations and Methodist meetings of Oxford, this priestly superciliousness was not to be commended, even though his two former friends were now excluded from Church of England pulpits, and were so ecclesiastically irregular as to preach in the open air.

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