A ROMANCE OF OLD MANCHESTER.*

The Manchester Man, of which a very handsome illustrated edition is before us, is by no means a new book. It was first published about twenty years ago. But we think there must be a large number of readers who have never made its acquaintance before, and who will be glad to be introduced to it in its present imposing form. To those who know it already, it needs no recommendation beyond that of saying that it gains greatly by being sumptuously got up and copiously illustrated. It is a book to which the pomp and dignity of an edition de luxe seem altogether suitable ; and we forgive even its large size and serious weight, in consideration that room could not have been found for the pictures and maps in a slight volume. It is called a novel, but these maps and pictures, while they much enhance the interest of the story as story, convert the book into something more than a novel. They give the last touch of reality to an extremely lifelike narrative, and make us feel that in following the adventures of the honourable apprentice, Jabez Clegg, we have acquired a very good knowledge of the social and political development of Manchester during the first quarter of our century. Apart from the story, which is well told, and full of interest — for readers who are not too much under the influence of the literary fashions of this end of the century, to care for a hero who practises all the time-honoured virtues and a heroine in her teens full of the romance of Byron and Moore

— apart from the story, the feature of the book which is most characteristic and individual is its distinct and attractive pre- sentment of the domestic manners of a class of English manu- facturers now practically obsolete. Internal evidence would be enough to assure us that the .A.shtons, and the Chadwicks, and the Aspinalls were studied from real people, whose record was matter of family and neighbourly tradition. But until one has read the appendices—and it is fairest to the book not to look into them till the story is done—one hardly suspects bow many of the most dramatic incidents have been copied from fact. For, though nothing can be further removed from "artistic" in the modern application of the word than Mrs. Banks's straightforward and un- affected style, yet she has used great art and not a little imagination in the delicate process of blending fact and fiction. It is evident that she had thoroughly brooded herself back into the time of her fathers and grand- fathers before she began the construction of her plot, and that the narratives of Peninsular and Waterloo heroes, of elders who remembered the rejoicings of the Great Peace and the sufferings of the Great Dearth, the atrocities of Peterloo and the excesses of George 1.7.'s Coronation Day, were familiar to her as oft-told household tales ; so that baying given her- self a free hand by the choice of a hero who was not a real personage, it came easily to her to develop his career in the milieu of a past day.

A memorable flood of August, 1799, furnishes the incident from which the story starts,—the floating of a baby in its cradle down the overflowing Irk. Such is the first introduc- tion of the hero to the reader. A nameless infant whose parents have disappeared and left no track, he is rescued from drowning by Simon Clegg, a poor but generous-hearted tanner, and brought up by Simon's motherly hearted daughter Bess. Simon, being a good Churchman, thought it right to have the foundling christened. "It wouldna do th' cboilt ony harm to be kirsened twoice ower ; an' twould be bike flingin' th' choilt's soul to Owd Scrat gin he wur no kirsened at o'." And deeming it desirable that the boy's name should remind him of the peril from which his infancy had been delivered, Simon decided to call him Irk, after the river be was taken from. We wish we could give the whole scene of the baptism as described by Mrs. Banks. But it is too long. Part of it, however, we must transcribe for the sake of intro- ducing the Rev. Joshua Brookes, who is in every sense one of

• The Manchester Man. By Mrs. G. Linnsous Banks. Manohe:tar Atel Hers o( d end Son. London : Simpkin, Marshal., and Co.

the best characters in the story, notwithstanding that he is taken straight from life, with all his virtues and his oddities, and even his name :—

" Marriages were solemnised in the richly carved choir of the venerable old Church, but churchings and baptisms in a large adjoining chapel; and thither Bess, who carried the baby, was ashered, followed by Simon and Matt Cooper, who were to act as its other sponsors. At the door they made way for the entrance of a party of ladies whom they had seen alight from sedan-chairs at the upper gate, where a couple of gentlemen joined them. A nurse followed, with a baby, whose christening robe, nearly two yards long, was a mass of rich embroidery. The mother herself- & slight, lovely creature, additionally pale and delicate from her late ordeal—wore a long plain-skirted dress of varicoloured brocaded silk. A lustrous silk scarf, trimmed with costly lace, enveloped her shoulders. Her head-dress, a bonnet with a bag- crown and Quakerish poke-brim, was of the newest fashion, as were the long kid gloves which covered her arms to the elbows. The party stepped forward as though precedence was theirs of right even at the church door, heeding not Simon's mannerly withdrawal to let them pass; and the very nurse looked disdain- fully at the calico gown of the baby in the round arms of Bess.

Already a goodly crowd of mothers, babies, godfathers, and godmothers had assembled—a crowd of all grades, judging from their exteriors, for dress had not then ceased to be a criterion ; and all ceremonies of this kind were performed in shoals—not singly. The Rev. Joshua Brookes, followed by his clerk, came through the door in the carven screen, between the choir and baptismal chapel, and took his place behind the altar rails."

We skip the churchings, though the description of Joshua's rough marshalling of the women is very quaint and graphic, and pass on the christenings :—

"It so happened that the tanner's group and the lady's group were ranked side by side. The latter was Mrs. Aspinall, the wife of a wealthy cotton merchant, who, with two other gentlemen and a lady, stood behind her Hath this child been already baptised or no ? ' asked Joshua Brookes, and was passing on, when Simon's unexpected response arrested him. Aw dunnot know.' 'Don't know ? How's that ? What are you here for P were questions huddled one on the other, in a broader vernacular than I have thought well to put in the mouth of a man so deeply learned. Whoi, yo' see, this is the choilt as were weshed deawn th' river wi' th' flood in a kayther ; an' o' belongin' th' lad are deead, an' aw mun kirsen him to mak' o' sure.' Joshua listened with more patience than might have been expected from him, and passed on with a mere ' Humph ! ' to ask the same question from each in succession before proceeding with the general service. At length he came to the naming of several infants. Henrietta Burdelia Fitzbourne' was given as the proposed name of a girl of middle-class parents. Mary, I baptise thee,' dm., he calmly pro- ceeded, handed the baby back to the astonished godmother, and passed to the next, regardless of appeal. Mrs. Aspinall's boy took his name of Laurence with a noisy protest against the sprinkling. Nor was the foundling silent when, having been duly informed that the boy's name was to be 'Irk,' self-willed Joshua deliberately, and with scarcely a visible pause, went on= ,Tabess, I baptise thee in the name,' lee., and so overturned, at one fell swoop, all Simon's carefully constructed castle. Simon attempted to remon- strate, but Joshua Brookes had another infant in his arms, and was deaf to all but his own business. Such a substitution of names was too common a practice of his to disturb him in the least. But Simon had a brave spirit, and stood no more in awe of Joshua Brookes — Jotty,' he was called — than of another man. When the others had gone in a crowd to the vestry to register the baptisms, he stopped to confront the parson as he left the altar. 'What roight had yo' to change the neame aw' chime to gi'e that choilt ? '= What right had you to saddle the poor lad with an Irksome name like that ? ' was the quick rejoinder.—' bight! why, aw wanted to gi'e th' lad a neame as should mak' him thankful for bein' saved from dreawndin' to the last deays of his An Irksome name like that would have made him the butt of every little imp in the gutters, until he'd have been ready to drown himself to get rid of it. Jabez is an honourable name, man. You go home and look through your Bible till you find it.' Simon was open to conviction ; his bright eyes twinkled as a new light dawned upon them. The gruff chaplain had brushed past him on his way to the robing-room ; but he turned back with his right hand in his breeches-pocket and put a seven-shilling piece in the palm of the tanner, saying, Here's something towards the christening feast of th' little chap I've stood godfather to. And don't you forget to look in " Chronicles " for Jabez, and above all, see that the lad doesn't disgrace his name.' Joshua Brookes had the character, among those who knew him least, of loving money overmuch, and this unwonted exhibition of generosity took Simon's breath. The chaplain was gone before he recovered from his amazement—gone, with a tender heart softened towards the fatherless child thrown upon the world, his cynicism rebuked by the true charity of the poor tanner, who had taken the foundling to his home in a season of woeful dearth."

Joshua Brookes and his friend, Mrs. (lowes, the vendor of sweetmeats in the shop just under the churchyard wall, are the two "eccentrics" of the story who furnish the humour, and not a little of the pathos, of the book. Laurence Aspinall grows up to be the brilliant and worthless fine gentleman, who crosses Jaber at every turn of his easy life as he crossed him at the church door. He and Augusta Ashton

and all the wild incidents of their disastrous marriage are also drawn from life, though in their case names have been changed. Even the mad incident of Laurence's wager, that he would ride home from a drunken spree, mount the staircase of his house, and enter his wife's chamber on horseback, we are told is taken from fact; and one of the most charming of the illustrations shows us the house where the crazy deed was done. The wife had but a few days before given birth to a child, and after some brutal episodes the husband had been temporarily softened :—

"For two or three days he hovered about the house, nervously anxious lest any sound should disturb the young mother. He. saw that every domestic was shod with list, stopped the great hall clock, and had the rolled-up carpets laid down on the polished oaken stairs. Four days sufficed. On the fifth he rode off to town on Black Ralph on a pretence of business ; but very little did Cannon Street see of Mr. Laurence that day. With every acquaintance he met was a glass to be drunk, ' to wet the child's head.' At the Scramble Club, where he dined, he paid for two or three bottles of wine, also 'to wet the child's head,' according to the practice of the club Riding home, he stopped at the George and Dragon,' Ardwick Green, and went through the same process. There some one remarked that he was too drunk to stand, much less ride home, when he swore with an oath that he would show them how he could ride ; he and Black Ralph were equal to anything. And then, amid roars of derisive laughter, he flung out another oath, and laid a wager which was regarded merely as the boasting of drunken bragga- docio. He had kissed his wife's pale lips on leaving in the morning, and she faintly implored him to be home early— she did not dare add, and sober.' Towards nightfall she began to listen for his return. Hour after hour went by, and at one in the morning she heard the great gates and the door thrown open for their impatient master by the watching servants, and the strong steed come tearing up the gravel— ay, and on up the broad, flat steps, clattering through the great oaken hall, and, urged with whip and spur and a madman's voice, mount the freshly- carpeted stairs, cross the landing at a stride, and driving back the affrighted nurse, enter that sick chamber where, with her- baby at her side, lay the fair young wife, gasping and shrinking with terror, and there stand with quivering flanks and panting nostrils, as the reckless rider on his back cried in exultation, By G—d, I've done it !' He had done it. No matter what noise accompanied the removal of horse and rider, the wife, whom in his sober hours he professed to love so passionately, lay insensible to sight or sound, and wakened only to a morrow of delirium."

The Aspinalls held their heads higher than the Aslitons and the Chadwicks, though mixing with them on a footing of practical equality. But the weight of solid merit, as well as the charm of kindliness and true good breeding, is with the homelier men of business and their wives. Mrs. Ashton and Mrs. Chadwick are sisters, and both very gracious ladies, mingling business aptitude and social dignity very prettily. About Mrs. Ashton, with her love of proverbial philosophy, there is a dash of very genuine originality. And her daughter Augusta is charming in spite of her preference for the wrong man. We wish we had room for the whole scene in Mrs. Chadwick's parlour, where Jabez, by this time the trusted apprentice of Mr. Ashton, realises that he is falling in love with her. He has come on a double errand,—to bring some patterns of fringes from his master's warehouse, and to escort Miss Augusta home after a short visit at her aunt's house. And while he is studying Hogarth's prints of the good and bad apprentice on the wall, she comes in and kindles a sudden

hope :—

" He stood before the last engraving when Augusta—in no awe of her father's apprentice—came dancing into the room in a nankeen dress and tippet, a hat with blue ribbons, long washing gloves which left the elbows bare, and blue shoes tied with a bunch of ribbons. Bright, beautiful, buoyant—she was a picture in herself; and Jabez turned from the dingy engraving to think so. She often came tripping into the warehouse or the kitchen, and exchanged a bright word with one or other, and away again ; but Jabez had thought of her only as a pretty, playful child until that afternoon. Joshua Brookes pointing Hogarth's lessons had given the one spur • that lovely brown-eyed, brown-haired maiden, with her simple, spur; Jabez—I'm ready,' had given another."

But Augusta, so far, was ready only to walk home under the protection of her father's apprentice. It was her cousin, Ellen Chadwick, who was ready to be his wife. How the author sorts their lots it is not our business to tell.

We have mentioned the excellent illustrations as greatly enhancing the interest and attractiveness of this book. They are too numerous to be spoken of in detaiL Mr. Charles Green gives us a number of very careful and delicate draw- ings of places and buildings in and about Manchester, and some reproductions of portraits of those characters in the book who have real prototypes; and Mr. Hedley Fitton supplies spirited illustrations of the principal situations in

the story, in which all particulars of action and costume are kept in close accord with the written descriptions. In this, and in all other features of the book, care is taken to produce an effect of actual truth which makes one feel all through that the book is much more a memoir than a novel,—though, whichever way we take it, it is an excellent romance.