INTRODUCTION. In entering upon a task like that which we have planned for ourselves in the present department of our work, many difficulties arise which are so very formidable in their appearance, at first sight as to impress us with the notion that they are altogether incapable of removal. So much of prejudice has to be encountered-so many opinions are to be combated—and so overwhelming a proportion of the cavillers to be propitiated that it is not to be wondered at if a novice should fall short, where so many of the "older scribblers" have been found wanting. The early history of a town like Manchester is essentially he history of its early benefactors; and those who have been most active in promoting its Institutions, and contributing by their talents to the spirit of its importance and popularity, are they whose individual biography ought to throw the clearest light upon the history of the town itself. But with us this has not been the case;―for although, “ if they have writ our annals true," there has been no dearth of mind in the composition of the town's inhabitants during the past few hundred years'; and although the wealthy in means have not failed frequently to be the bountiful in heart, but have built for themselves a memory in the foundation stones of our churches and our charities that cannot be done away with until the monuments that record them have become fragments; yet there has been so scanty a supply of historical facts handed down to us relative to these personages, and even those are so inseparable from the mercantile spirit that would seem to have con nected them with their little immortality, that except in the few instances of men who have immortalised themselves by their scientific attainments or their learned compositions and have thus become rather the inhabitants of the world at large than of one town in particular, we have nothing beyond the mere circumstances of their birth, their benefactions and their decease upon which to set forth the many excellencies of character which they must publicly have possessed. And even concerning the "illustrious few," the most that can be known is comparatively nothing; because on all those points, which in this day would be most instrucitve and interesting, the biographers of a former day appear studiously to have remained silent, thinking doubtless it was of more importance that posterity should know at what schools a man was educated, what were his writings, and how great were the persecutions he was subjected to, than that they should be told how he thought and acted, and what influence his life had upon the cotemporaries surrounding him. For ourselves we are fond of the little gossipping of biography-the small talk, as it were, of a man's existence; we like to sit upon his hearth-stone and listen to him when he is unconscious of our presence, and when his talent is as idly occupied as if, like the foolish man in the parable, he had wrapped it in a napkin; we like to lay hold of his honest truths, and to take him when he is "not i'th' vein," and when consequently there can be no design or premeditation in his little sayings and doings. Why should men have only the perfections of their nature pourtrayed?-As if perfect humanity were not. an incongruity! Moreover, in a provincial town, the materials for a general biography are particularly scanty, because those individuals whose lives would seem to be the most fitted for publicity invariably contrive to migrate as soon as they perceive their own real importance in the world of letters; disdaining to "waste their sweetness on the desert air," they seek a more congenial abode within the heart of the great city of the plains. It is therefore only in a sketchy manner that we can speak of them-we must prate of their whereabout with all the humility of a mere story-teller; and having made believe that we are only writing another series of the gossip of " our village," we must entice our reader into a belief of its probability, and by little and little persuade him to give full credence to the truth of our rehearsal. We confess that in our "great mercantile city" (as strangers emphatically term it) we can offer no inducements to the ramblings of the mere enthusiast who seeks in our streets temples dedicated to the muses-in our church-yards catacombs of heroes—and in our ancient cathedral effigies of the learned men and martyrs who have once made this space their habitation; we can tempt him not by the ruins of an ancient castle, or the sight of a tesselated pavement; we have no remnant of a prætorium, nor even a shapeless market-cross, with quaint inscriptions, rendered illegible by the hand of time-nothing of this antiquarian nature have we in our parish-yet will we not altogether disclaim those calls upon his imagination which a knowledge of our town's classical importance will naturally excite. Though we cannot say of our streets "here rode King Lud,"-there did Jack Cade assume the royal state-yonder did a Ridley and a Latimer suffer martyrdom--and here in Eastcheap did Shakspeare and those good fellows of his day make their hearts "righte merrie." Yet can we point out scenes of interest equally exciting-though in a different degree. Kings have passed over our pavements; imposters have flourished in our land; a Ridley and a Latimer have preached within our houses; martyrs have perished amongst us; and the great revivifiers of Shakspeare's impersonations have been of us and amongst us, and have feasted and made merry in our play-houses and our taverns. There did the ancient Romans fix their camp-from this spot did the descendants of the Cæsars dispense their law; here dwelt the famous Dee, to whom English Nobles and Foreign Potentates bowed with reverence-in yonder building did he converse with spirits, and beneath the shadow of that roof did he perform his divinations; there flourished that imposter-alas! that we should use so harsh a term-the famous Booker; here, where now stands this green-grocer's shop, resided one of the proud Earls of Derby; and in that huge hotel, whose front some twenty years ago had an aspect so uncouth, revelled the merry sons "who danced our infancy upon their knee," whose names are called into remembrance whenever that of Shakspeare is spoken, and who will have a sigh of regret as long as memory can retain a thought of George Frederick Cook, and his glorious tribe of "true companions." Such are the retrospections our trading city can afford-such is the lore that will repay those who may search into its archives. PART VII. CHAPTER I. There is a history in all men's lives, SHAKSPEARE. THOMAS WEST-LORD DE LA WARRE. One of the earliest of our men of note of whom there exists any available account was Thomas West, Lord de la Warre, who was a descendant of the Grelleys, the ancient Lords of Manchester, and who (according to Hollingworth,) "was the last heire male of that familye." He was Rector of Manchester during the latter part of the fourteenth and the commencement of the fifteenth century, and claims notice principally on account of having been the founder of the Collegiate Church. To those who are fond of a reminder of the pages of Shakspeare, there may be something interesting in the fact, that Roger de la Warre, (the father of our present subject,) and the Duke of Lancaster, "Old John of Gaunt, time honoured Lancaster," had some rather serious altercation and differences relative to the right of tyrannizing over the poor inhabitants of Manchester, and that this same "warlike Gaunt" did order his bailiffs to collect monies from them to which he had no right, very much to the prejudice of our natural and liege lord, and for which a trial was held in Preston, A.D. 1359, when it was decided that Roger de la Warre, and he only, had authority to gather money of the townspeople. Restitution was, therefore, made; and the renowned sire of the "cankered Bolingbroke" was compelled to acknowledge, for once, that right conquered might. Often has it been matter of wonder to us, whether John of Gaunt might |