LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Class 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2007 
 
 http://archive.org/details/chethamcollegeenOOblatrich 
 
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Mumpbrcs Gbetbam 
 
 Obit 1653 
 From the oil painting in the warden's room, Chetham College 
 
FIRST BODLEIAN BOOKLET 
 
 Cbetbam College 
 
 [ ENGLAND ] 
 
 "The oldest free library in the world" 
 
 i 
 
 WRITTEN BY ROBERT BLATCHFORD, 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTION BY REVD. GEORGE HODGES, D.D. 
 
 AND SPECIALLY DRAWN ILLUSTRATIONS AND 
 
 INITIALS BY WILLIAM PALMER 
 
 Copyright 1910 
 By Frederick Parsons 
 
 : a 1 ::•■•••»•». 
 
 ' ■> ' > . > > j 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 THE BODLEIAN SOCIETY OF BOSTON, U.S.A. 
 

 £ 
 
 imhmrm«»s Fi/,vo 
 
 
 
 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 Ernest ftowatb Crosbs 
 
 Univ. of N. Y. 1876; Columbia Coll. Law School 1878 
 1856-1907 
 
 
 
 
 
 » *■ t ' I , I 
 
 .V.::.-i;.-:M".'.< 5 - 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 of Untrobuction 
 
 Here opens a little gate 
 out of a noisy street into a 
 green cloister, so that we 
 pass from the sight of reek- 
 ing chimneys and the company of crowding mill- 
 hands into a place where sweet peace prevails, 
 where there is decent leisure, where there are old 
 portraits of gentlemen, and books written on 
 vellum, and good people who have time to read 
 them. Here in Manchester — of all impossible 
 places! — the past and the present lie thus in 
 instructive contrast. 
 
 Mr. Blatchford has no love for Henry VIII, 
 who though he did not himself eject the gentle 
 brethren of this cloister began the bad business 
 and must bear the blame of it. He has a store 
 of hard, round adjectives with which he pelts 
 Henry wherever he meets him, — who thus 
 rudely shut the door in the face of the past and 
 held out a beckoning hand to the present; to 
 this selfish, commercial present, intent, like 
 Henry, on getting all that can be got, regardless 
 
 [ Page three ] 
 
 91 fWOfi 
 
Gbetbam College 
 
 of old sanctities, of dignity, of beauty, of religion, 
 of the best of life. Mr. Blatchford has no love 
 for this present, either; especially as it is mani- 
 fested in Manchester, and such like enterprising 
 places. To him it means hurry and worry, and 
 cheapness and vulgarity, and things made by 
 machinery, and all manner of bad taste and bad 
 behaviour. 
 
 I hope that the past was as good as he thinks 
 it was, and that the parsons and people of the 
 old times were as pleasant as they are picturesque. 
 I am afraid that they were not. It seems to me 
 that it must have been mighty cold for the 
 brethren who had but distant "access to the fire," 
 and that the cold must have entered into their 
 souls. I am inclined to think that it is warmer 
 now on cold days, even in Manchester. But 
 it is cold enough. 
 
 Anyhow, here is a charming picture of a remote 
 
 time, done with sympathy, full of fine feeling, 
 
 good to look upon, and pleasant and profitable 
 
 to remember. 
 
 George Hodges. 
 
 The Deanery, 
 Cambridge, Massachusetts, 
 
 [ Page four ] 
 
William palmer's Wlustrattons an& flnttlals 
 
 Page 
 
 Portrait of Humphrey Chetham Frontispiece 
 
 Initial with St. George and the Dragon 3 
 
 Chetham's Life Dream, from the Fresco 
 
 by Ford Madox Brown ... 7 
 
 Initial Based on the Arms of Henry VIII 7 
 
 The Old Well in the Quadrangle . . 12 
 
 Ladies' Bay* in the Great Hall with 
 Portion of Stairs and Doorway lead- 
 ing to Minor Hall . . . . 15 
 
 Fireplace in the Old Hall . . . 17 
 
 The Audit or Feofee's Room with 15TH 
 
 Century Oaken Ceiling . . . 24 
 
 Reading Room, formerly the Warden's 
 
 Room 25 
 
 Historic Bay and Writing Table in Read- 
 ing Room 26 
 
 Jacobean Staircase Leading to Cloister 
 
 Gallery 27 
 
 Chetham Boys at Cricket, with Entrance 
 to the Pump Court and Old Brew 
 House 32 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 Humphrey Chetham's Life Dream, from the Fresco of Ford Madox Brown. 
 
 Forget six counties overhung with smoke, 
 Forget the snorting steam and piston stroke, 
 Forget the spreading of the hideous town ; 
 Think rather of the pack-horse on the down, 
 And old Mancunium, small and white and clean, 
 And Irwell bordered by its gardens green. 
 
 (With apologies to William Morris.) 
 
 AIL, 
 
 Humphrey Chet- 
 S ham, hail ! May 
 thy kind soul find music 
 and fair flowers in the far 
 Elysian fields. Thou wert 
 a good fellow, Humphrey, 
 and hast kept sweet for us 
 and undefiled, one quiet 
 nook of the old, calm world. To thee we owe 
 the sole remnant of grace and dignity now left 
 in this great vulgar city, in this blatant pursy age. 
 
 [ Page seven ] 
 
Cbetbam Colleae 
 
 Oh, grand old Chetham College, refuge of 
 meditative minds, haunt of the little band of 
 poets and thinkers who survive in Modern Athens 
 like the few grayling lingering in a stream be- 
 fouled, or the last frail flowers clinging to the 
 fringes of a thronged highway. 
 
 Oh, the still, grey, ancient pile, mellowed and 
 made venerable by the suns and storms of many 
 centuries ; shrine of old sainted heroisms, altar 
 of burnt-out faiths, monument of dead glories 
 and forgiven shams, noble old harbour of ro- 
 mance in the midst of gross materialism, reposi- 
 tory of a thousand pensive sweet records of love 
 and hatred and labour and rest, sanctuary of 
 the student and the dreamer, terra incognita of 
 cheap trippers, storehouse of beauty and wisdom, 
 which the money-changers do not prize — what 
 an heirloom, what a dower, what a treasure have 
 we here, and for this do we give good Humphrey 
 Chetham thanks. May his soul find ease and 
 kind communion with congenial spirits in the 
 great Otherwhere beyond the blue sky-mystery 
 and its solemn stars. 
 
 It is small wonder that invading armies of 
 cheap trippers, pouring into Manchester from 
 Victoria Station, pass by Chetham College una- 
 
 [ Page eight ] 
 
Cbetbam Golleae 
 
 wares. The place is hidden. Thousands of 
 Manchester people have never seen nor heard of 
 it. A modern hotel conceals it on the Irwell 
 side, a modern grammar-school upon the opposite 
 side, a jealous wall upon the side which fronts the 
 Cathedral. The entrance is insignificant and 
 uninviting. Through a small doorway in the 
 common dead wall, right opposite the cab-rank 
 you get a glimpse of a dull, bare parade, and 
 beyond it a long, low building, suggesting alms- 
 houses, if nothing worse. You pass by. You 
 see no invitation. You miss the noblest sight in 
 Modern Athens. 
 
 The charm and interest of Chetham College 
 are enhanced by the surroundings. It would be 
 hard to find such another jewel in such another 
 frowsy casket. 
 
 Conway Castle is quite at home in its green 
 nest above the river; Haddon Hall appears as 
 natural amongst its lofty trees and noble meadows 
 as a gem amongst rare chasings; Bolton Abbey 
 sleeps peacefully in Bolton Woods; Skipton 
 Towers have a quaint old street and a solemn 
 graveyard at their feet ; Hampton Court is parted 
 from the modern world by broad acres of smiling 
 gardens ; the Monastery at Whitby rears its grey 
 
 [ Page nine ] 
 
Gbetbam College 
 
 frontage to the everlasting sea; but Chetham 
 College hides its still heart and hoards the price- 
 less treasures of its memories amid the din and 
 reek of busy Manchester's most busy quarters. 
 
 The black Irk, hiding its shame, sneaks by 
 beneath its walls ; the black Irwell, exposing its 
 infamy, crawls past its front ; the much restored 
 Cathedral, in its ugly flagged square, the Ex- 
 change Station, the Victoria Station, the big 
 unhandsome Grammar School, the noisy main 
 street — these are its boundaries. 
 
 All around, from the ill-favoured, grimy walls, 
 the blatant advertisement signs shriek out their 
 trashy wares. The air is thick with steam 
 and smoke, and redolent of dye-water, of sul- 
 phur, of rancid odours from the Yankee cheese 
 and bacon stores adjacent. The sea of modern 
 civilisation, vulgar, sordid, irreverent, full of 
 wolfish greediness and feverish haste, beats right 
 up to the gates of the quiet sanctuary. Its hot 
 spray has blown within and burnt up every blade 
 of grass, so that the playground is a dirty wilder- 
 ness. Modern enterprise and energy jostle the 
 old college on every side. The new hotel treads 
 almost on its toes, planting its rude back against 
 the stately front of Chetham's, and hiding most 
 completely all its venerable beauty. 
 
 [ Page ten ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 But still Chetham College stands where it did, 
 and that is a thing to marvel over and be grate- 
 ful for. It is a miracle of miracles that it has 
 not ere now been " transferred," " restored," and 
 " utilised " out of all value or recognition. 
 
 It is a wonderful old place. As you enter at 
 the little gateway you step out of the new world 
 into the old. The clatter of the traffic dies 
 away ; you forget the enterprising cheese factor, 
 and the improved train-service to Oldham and 
 Stalybridge, you forget the Belle Vue band 
 contest, and the address of Mr. Balfour to his 
 constituents, you "forget the snorting steam and 
 piston stroke," and your spirit is hushed and 
 soothed, as when you enter the dim, cool aisles 
 of some fine cathedral, or the green ways of a 
 leafy forest. In two paces you have come into 
 another country and another age. 
 
 So we found it, Palmer and I, when on Mon- 
 day last we sought seclusion from the noisy 
 manifestations of great Manchester's great com- 
 merce. At one stride we severed ourselves from 
 the turmoil and the cares, the irritations and the 
 littlenesses of this glorious century of "dividents" 
 and machinery and slums and profits, and be- 
 came as Christians and as human beings. 
 
 [ Page eleven ] 
 
Gbetbam College 
 
 " Peace/' said the artist, and raised his hat. 
 " Amen," quoth I, and raised mine. 
 
 SpiSp^&La^' 
 
 The old well in the Quadrangle 
 
 At the angle of the building we saw a Chet- 
 ham boy busily at it patching the frayed ground 
 with cement and cobbles. We called him over 
 
 [ Page twelve ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 and conversed with him. 
 
 He was a nice little fellow with a pleasant, 
 rosy face, a friendly smile, and a frank blue eye, 
 and liked us well. 
 
 " Who taught you the gentle art of a pavior ? " 
 
 " We teach ourselves, sir." 
 
 u How so, without instruction ? " 
 
 " We learn by trying, sir. We do our best." 
 
 " The best is good. What do you learn in 
 the school ? " 
 
 " Oh, many things, sir ; French, and grammar, 
 and shorthand, and geography, and — " 
 
 "A sound 'commercial education/ H'm ! 
 Where do you come from ? " 
 
 " Bolton, sir." 
 
 " Are you an orphan ? " 
 
 " I have a mother, sir ; father is dead." 
 
 " So you like the place ? Are you happy ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes sir ; but I go out soon. I shall be 
 fourteen." 
 
 " And where will you go, my son ? " 
 
 " To Bolton, sir, I suppose." 
 
 " It is well. Good luck attend you." 
 
 And so we leave the little fellow, who goes back 
 smiling to his road mending. A queer world. 
 The great busy tide of commerce, which beats up 
 
 [ Page thirteen ] 
 
Cbetbam Colleae 
 
 to the walls of this quiet haven, will lap him up 
 and carry him away. He has been here eight 
 years. I wonder will he be as happy anywhere 
 again; whither the fierce tide will drift him; 
 how it will fare with him : whether he will have a 
 smile as trustful and a glance as frank in the 
 years to come when " the cattle and swine have 
 chewed and trampled all the green off him ? " I 
 wonder. 
 
 I mind me of a time when — but now — alas ! 
 
 Chetham College stands on the site of the old 
 baronial hall of the Gresleys. In the distant feu- 
 dal times the bold, bad baron would set his serfs 
 to work to make a clearing in the forest, and 
 therein would build his castle. Then round the 
 castle would spring up a village, the homes of 
 peasants and retainers, under protection of the 
 lord. 
 
 Thus was it with the ancient stronghold of the 
 Gresleys; so that this half-forgotten place is 
 actually the seed from which sprang Manchester. 
 The tree is a grimy one, and harbours strange 
 wild-fowl in its branches. The seed, alas, is now 
 of little practical account — quite insignificant 
 and unimportant as compared with the Exchange 
 and the new Town Hall. But — ! 
 
 [ Page fourteen ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 This old baronial hall was a handsome build- 
 ing, doubtless, and stood on a pleasant site. 
 Grounded on a rocky eminence, forty feet above 
 the level, at the fork of the Irwell and the Irk, 
 with a fair prospect over the marshy lands to the 
 west and the grand green woods all round. 
 
 Ladies' Bay in the Great Hall with portion of stairs and doorway leading to the 
 
 Minor Hall 
 
 The silvery Irk ran at its foot, a pretty stream. 
 There were trout and grayling in its waters and 
 wan-leaved willow and graceful alders on its 
 grassy banks. Over against the Irwell there 
 
 [ Page fifteen ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 were, I am sure, some stately elms on which the 
 rooks and the thrushes sang. 
 
 Hanging Ditch was then a defensive moat, 
 spanned by a swinging bridge. Wild ducks and 
 water hens paddled in the pools of Withy Grove, 
 and dappled kine cropped the dark fine grass in 
 the meadows where now stands the station of the 
 Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway. 
 
 You may see the river gate yet, and the fish 
 pond, and the charter, granted centuries later, 
 giving to the Chetham boys liberty to fish in the 
 IrwelL 
 
 So stood the grand old fortress in the grand 
 old days. How it stands now I have already 
 told you. 
 
 The present college was founded and built by 
 John De la Warre, the soldier-priest, descendant 
 of the Gresleys. 
 
 De la Warre succeeded to the manorial rights 
 in 1398. In 142 1 or thereabouts, the rectory 
 ( now the Cathedral ) was made into a collegiate 
 church. Between 142 1 and 1426, or towards 
 the end of Henry Fifth's reign ( FalstafFs Prince 
 Hal) the present college was founded. 
 
 It was founded for the use and benefit of the 
 ecclesiastics of the collegiate church, and was 
 
 [ Page sixteen ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 the residence of the warden, eight fellows, and 
 six choristers of the church. The six fellows 
 comprised two parish priests, two canons, and 
 four deacons ; the first warden being J no. Hunt- 
 ingdon, Rector of Ashton. 
 
 Fireplace in the old hall 
 
 On the whole, the warden and his fellows must 
 have had a good time of it. 
 
 Good times, for the Puritans had cast no chilly 
 shadow on religion then, and prior and priests 
 were wise and merry men, who could curse as 
 
 [ Page seventeen ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 well as pray in Latin, were as much at home in 
 chain mail as in gowns of frieze ; could handle 
 sword and quarter staff as well as rosary ; could 
 deal a lusty blow, and eat a lusty meal, and sing 
 a lusty song, and would roast a heretic, or shrive 
 you a dying soldier, or heal an aching heart, or 
 wrestle with a fearsome plague with equal faith- 
 fulness. As witness jovial Bishop Still, of Bath 
 and Wells, and his play of Gammer Gurton's 
 Needle. 
 
 It was not long though before the old religion 
 fell under the ban of the thievish, knavish, disso- 
 lute, swinish Henry, miscalled "Bluff" King 
 Hal; and the monasteries and churches were 
 rifled, the libraries scattered, the lands divided 
 amongst the bandits and toadies of the bawdy 
 court, and the poor monks and kindly fat friars 
 and priors were hunted like hares by the brutish 
 soldiery, and plucked like pigeons by the light- 
 fingered nobility of merry England — ancestors 
 of the washed-out peers who now prate about 
 " confiscation " and the " dishonesty " of restoring 
 the soil to the people. 
 
 Strange to say, Chetham College appears to 
 have escaped this general rapine and brigandage 
 during Henry's reign; but in the first year of 
 
 [ Page eighteen ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 the Sixth Edward the oversight was atoned for. 
 The college was " dissolved," and the buildings 
 and land passed in some mysterious fashion into 
 the hands of the Stanleys. 
 
 That was about 1547. The Stanleys held the 
 place for a century or more, and it became the 
 residence of the Earls of Derby. 
 
 But when the troubles broke out between the 
 sainted Charles Rex and the Parliament the 
 then Earl took up the Royal cause, and served 
 it not wisely but too well. 
 
 I'm not going at this time of day to fret old 
 wounds. Women and children were cut to 
 pieces at Bolton by the Earl of Derby's troops ; 
 the Earl of Derby was wounded and taken pris- 
 oner at the battle of Worcester ; he did die on 
 the scaffold in 165 1, at Bolton, the scene of 
 his former exploits, and his estates were "for- 
 feit " to the Commonwealth — the collegiate 
 buildings of Manchester amongst them. 
 
 Evil times now came to the brave old place. 
 We read of its falling into disrepair ; of its being 
 used as a magazine for the storage of arms and 
 ammunition ; of horses being stabled in the 
 buildings, and soldiers quartered in the dormi- 
 tories and kitchens ; nay, as if these degradations 
 
 [ Page nineteen ] 
 
Gbetbam College 
 
 should not suffice, the home of scholarship and 
 piety became — a prison. 
 
 A prison ! There have been sad hearts here 
 as well as merry ones, and the grey old stones 
 have swallowed sighs as well as laughter. Those 
 were bitter days, my masters, bloody and bitter 
 days. 
 
 In such case was our collegiate hall — when 
 the benevolent Humphrey Chetham conceived 
 the design of turning it to useful purposes. 
 
 Negotiations were opened by good Hum- 
 phrey with the Parliamentary committee ; but 
 nothing came of them ; and it was not until after 
 his death that the trustees of his will obtained 
 the place by purchase from Charlotte de la Tre- 
 monaille, the widow of the ill-fated Earl of 
 Derby, beheaded at Bolton as before said. 
 
 And so the old baronial hall and collegiate 
 residence became Chetham College by charter of 
 the pious King Charles II, of glorious memory, 
 in the year of Grace 1665. Ta-ra-ra, etc. 
 
 Chetham's generous and happy bequest 
 brought him well-earned commendation. Fuller, 
 in his History of the Worthies of England, 
 says : — 
 
 " God send us more such men, that we may 
 
 [ Page twenty ] 
 
Cbetbam Goileae 
 
 dazzle the eyes of the Papists with the light of 
 Protestant works." 
 
 Poor old Fuller. Had not Cromwell "daz- 
 zled the Papist eyes " enough in Ireland with the 
 flashes of Protestant cannon? Truly, religious 
 intolerance and bigotry are fearfully and wonder- 
 fully made. 
 
 In the Library at Chetham College are some 
 old MS. books of the fourteenth and fifteenth 
 century, which do most assuredly dazzle our eyes 
 with the light of Catholic works and that to some 
 tune. 
 
 Here we have illuminated manuscripts on 
 vellum, centuries old. The colours still fresh 
 and pure, the gold still clean and lustrous. 
 Latin testaments and vulgates, written in the old 
 black letter, the text perfect in its uniformity and 
 precision, the drawings, initials and embellish- 
 ments artistic and tender; their simple grace, 
 their practised freedom, chaste design, and per- 
 fect frankness above praise. 
 
 Marvellous and admirable are the pious faith- 
 fulness and loving pains of this old work. It 
 was done "as to the Lord"; done in an age 
 when art was loved for its own sake, and not 
 sold for pelf, done when thoroughness and purity 
 
 [ Page twenty-one ] 
 
Gbetbam College 
 
 were studied and revered, and when time and 
 labour were grudged of none. 
 
 But I do not think these books were written 
 and decorated by the wardens and the fellows. 
 No. I see here the trained skill and calm hu- 
 mility of the poorer priests and friars. Old wines 
 never shook their nerves, nor did gluttony of 
 rich viands blur the brains of the scribes who 
 wrought this work. In them I see the soul and 
 patience of certain "Chantry Priests" named in 
 the ancient chronicles. 
 
 These men wore "coarse frieze cassocks, 
 leathern girdles, thick clogs, and felt hats, or 
 none." These men had the " Right to sit at din- 
 ner with the fellows of the college, and to have 
 access to the fire? The poor old hardused drudges. 
 Cannot you see a picture here? A picture of 
 the rubicund, obese warden and his fleshy fel- 
 lows monopolising the grateful heat of the flaring 
 logs in the ingle, and the plain-clad deferential 
 priests hovering round, rubbing humble hands, 
 and peering at the blaze. 
 
 The interior of Chetham College is as elegant 
 and stately as its associations are interesting and 
 romantic. You pass first of all through the great 
 dimly lighted library, where are 60,000 valuable 
 
 [ Page twenty-two ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 books. You feel here that subtle odour of mel- 
 low sheets and bindings so grateful to the stu- 
 dent; and that still more subtle odour of old 
 scholarship, old chivalry, old Latin, and old 
 lore — an odour spiritual, evanescent, but not 
 less real. 
 
 Leaving the library, you go through the great 
 hall — a place similar in character to the hall at 
 Haddon ; with a lofty roof, a gigantic ingle nook, 
 a raised table, and minstrels' gallery. Thence to 
 the fine old kitchen, with its fine old fireplace, 
 over which hang some fine old knives, and a spit 
 large enough to hold an ox. There have been 
 brave cookeries and carousals here in the by-gone 
 times. One looks at the great range and smacks 
 one's lips. Oh, ho 1 the visions of reeking veni- 
 son, of huge game pasties, and monstrous barons 
 of beef. Oh, ho ! the good fat ale, the savoury 
 sausage, and the oven cakes of tempting odour. 
 
 There is a spy hole near the roof in the old 
 kitchen, whence in the brave days of old the 
 Lord was wont to keep an eye upon his hench- 
 men, for the menials slept here, say the old 
 chronicles — "upon the floor." 
 
 We walk through the chill grey Gothic clois- 
 ters ( not without feeling that some heavy-jowled, 
 
 [ Page twenty-three ] 
 
Cbetbam Goiieae 
 
 thick-waisted, flat-footed monk may possibly be 
 behind us ) ; we see the time-scarred quadrangle, 
 and the foot-worn steps and terraces and we 
 come to the feofees' room — a handsome apart- 
 ment, with a massive fifteenth century roof and 
 massive seventeenth century furniture — wherein 
 
 we be sure have 
 met some goodly 
 companies of ladies 
 fair, and gallants gay 
 and grey-beards 
 wise with years and 
 proud with high dis- 
 tinction. We look 
 at the quaint old 
 chairs, and old gro- 
 tesque oak carvings, 
 on which the glam- 
 our of lang syne 
 bestows an almost 
 human interest, and we turn away with a sigh 
 for the dead generations of the brave and bonny 
 who have withered and gone to dust like the 
 fallen flowers of forgotten summers. Poor old 
 warriors and councillors and minstrels and divines ; 
 poor old broken harps, and rusted swords, and 
 
 The Audit or " Feofees' " Room, with 
 fifteenth century oaken ceiling 
 
 [ Page twenty-four J 
 
Gbetbam College 
 
 faded fineries; poor old songs that are sung, 
 tales that are told, lives lived, loves burnt out 
 and feuds forgotten. Vanity of vanities, saith 
 
 The Reading Room, formerly the Warden's Room 
 
 the preacher. Man cometh up as a flower, and 
 is cut down. His days are swifter than a weav- 
 er's shuttle. 
 
 [ Page twenty-five ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 The grandest, fairest, finest room in the place 
 is the old oak-panelled reading room. It is 
 noble; no other adjective describes it. 
 
 At one end there is a splendid bay, and in it 
 a splendid dark oak writing table. Sit you down 
 there in that well-lit airy nook, before that ven- 
 erable desk, and think 
 awhile. You can think 
 there. Give me a quiet 
 hour and I will raise you 
 sheeted ghosts in shad- 
 owy battalions, and spin 
 you tales of love and 
 battle as the spider spins 
 silk. You doubt it? A 
 man must have less im- 
 agination than a money 
 lender if he will not be 
 come a poet here. 
 
 Good work has been 
 done at this table, too. Many a good fellow has 
 written here. De Quincey, possibly, for he was 
 Manchester born, may have sat here. Harrison 
 Ainsworth wrote many of his romances here. 
 They show you one of his MSS. in the Library. 
 It is excellent copy, written in a bold lucid 
 
 Historic bay and Writing Table in 
 reading room 
 
 [ Page twenty-six ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 hand, with few erasures and interlineations. 
 Ainsworth had a brisk and virile genius, and I 
 think should have done more worthy work. Per- 
 haps he took things too easily. Good work costs 
 even good men dear. 
 
 Oh, it is a grand old place, and yet ! It is 
 difficult to realise 
 how old it is. One 
 must think awhile. 
 
 Remember now: 
 This college was 
 built about 1425, on 
 the site of a Nor- 
 man castle. When 
 this old roof was 
 framed there was no 
 America ! There 
 was no Shakespeare ! 
 There was no Indian 
 Empire ! There was 
 no Protestant religion ! There was no cotton 
 trade ! There was no Empire of All the Russias ! 
 Do these things convey to you some notion as to 
 how venerable our Chetham College is ? 
 
 What are your feelings, my proud Mancunians, 
 when I quote for you old Leland, who in 1538 
 
 Jacobean Staircase leading to cloister 
 gallery 
 
 [ Page twenty-seven ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 describes Manchester as "standing in Salford- 
 shire"? 
 
 A quaint old scribe that Fuller. " The Irwell," 
 says he, " The Irwell is not navigable in some 
 places for vadys and rokkes." As I sat there and 
 read these lines, I half expected to find the old 
 divine standing before me when I raised my 
 eyes. 
 
 But instead of seeing Fuller, I saw the play- 
 ground and the gate, and in the gate-way looking 
 idly at the hall — a telegraph boy. 
 
 Yes, a telegraph boy, within a hundred paces 
 of me, and close to my hand there hung a framed 
 autograph letter of Sir Walter Raleigh's. 
 
 The experience was very curious, and made 
 me wonder which century I was living in, and 
 which life was the real one. 
 
 Doubtless Sir Walter has been here, and 
 stern old Knoll, and classic Milton, and many, 
 many more whom we would be fain enough to 
 meet, could they but return. 
 
 As one sits here in this tranquil, cool retreat, 
 it seems almost impossible to realise the storms 
 and troubles through which it has passed. Yet 
 Chetham College, as our rough glimpse and out- 
 line of its history prove, has known exciting 
 times. 
 
 [ Page twenty-eight ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 There would be great wagging of monkish 
 double chins in the great hall, when the news 
 came that Columbus had discovered a new 
 world. There would be broad smiles of satis- 
 faction over the destruction of the Lollards. The 
 victory of Agincourt, the emeute of Master Jack 
 Cade would find fat themes for gossip. The 
 advent of Joan of Arc ; the final tragedy of that 
 brave life in the square of Rouen must have 
 ruffled this dove-cote into agitation. 
 
 So during the Wars of the Roses, the shaven 
 pates would waggle wisely, and the little town of 
 Manchester outside the college walls be strangely 
 stirred. 
 
 Then there was the bloody eve of St. Bar- 
 tholomew. How did the fellows take that? 
 Ruefully we hope. Though in those times the 
 sword was ruthless and the martyr fires burnt 
 briskly. 
 
 Turn into the old council chamber, strange 
 whisperings have gone on there about black 
 deeds, and wild intrigues. The Death of War- 
 wick the King-maker, the antics of crookback 
 Dick the Third, the terrible fate of Mistress 
 Shore, the landing of the Irish and Germans 
 under Lord Lincoln. 
 
 [ Page twenty-nine ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 Much sly tattle also we can fancy, as to the 
 elopement of Dorothy Vernon from Haddon Hall, 
 or the weakness of Edward the Fourth for saucy 
 Mistress Woodville, or the bewildering amatory 
 gyrations of the licentious Eight Harry. 
 
 Great would be the consternation anent the 
 heresy and violence of that fat and foul de- 
 bauchee. How the poor monks would sigh and 
 fret as the news dribbled in of monasteries plun- 
 dered, priests slain, altars rifled. 
 
 And then, the death of the bully, a gleam of 
 hope, a shadow of fear, and — exeunt the clerics 
 of the Collegiate Church, and enter the Stanleys 
 of the grasping hand. 
 
 High state and revelry, no doubt in Derby's 
 time. As I sit here, the Chetham boys are chant- 
 ing very sweetly in the dining hall below. I 
 wonder now did the singers of those old days pipe 
 up their quaint sweet melodies. Do you know 
 the old English glees and madrigals of Henry 
 the hog his reign ? There are some of them which 
 possess a strange inward sweetness and plaintive 
 air. Have you heard " My Bonny Lass She 
 Smileth ? " They could sing in those days beau- 
 tiful songs, depend upon it. 
 
 Later, when the troubles broke out 'twixt 
 
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Cbetbam Colleae 
 
 Crown and Parliament, there would be anxious and 
 gloomy days in the hall of the Stanleys. You can 
 fancy James, Earl of Derby, frowning at the news 
 of Chalgrove Field or Naseby. You can picture 
 to yourself the stern, sour face of the Puritan 
 official God-in-his-mercy Thomson, or Patient-un- 
 der-chastenings Brown, as he stalked through this 
 handsome old place and took possession and in- 
 ventory for the commonwealth after Earl James 
 had lost his head. 
 
 On the 17th August, 1648, the day of the bat- 
 tle of Preston, Cromwell writes to the "Honourable 
 Committee of Lancashire, sitting at Manchester," 
 giving account of the victory and of the dispersal 
 of the Royalist troops, and adds : " Therefore, in 
 order to perfecting this work, we desire you to 
 raise your county, and to improve your forces, to 
 the total ruin of that enemy whichway soever they 
 go ; and if you shall accordingly do your part, 
 doubt not of their total ruin. We thought fit to 
 speed this to you, to the end that you may not be 
 troubled if they shall march towards you, but improve 
 your interest as aforesaid, that you may give glory 
 to God for this unspeakable mercy." 
 
 Comment is heedless. There, in those few 
 lines, is a lurid light, burning torch-like from the 
 
 [ Page thirty-one ] 
 
Cbetbam College 
 
 darkness of dead years, to illuminate the history 
 and vicissitudes of Chetham College. 
 
 My telegraph boy is peering through the gate. 
 The college boys are playing cricket on the 
 blasted heath. Why no grass, Oh! feofees, and why 
 no flowers ? Our artist sits placidly sketching the 
 
 Chetham boys, with entrance to the Pump Court 
 and Old Brew House 
 
 to*7 
 
 old bay. The smoke of modern commerce drifts 
 across the square. I think of the general election ; 
 the London County Council; the Ship Canal. Ah ! 
 How it cools the blood to sit musing in this 
 quiet oldness. How it humbles one. There are 
 
 [ Page thirty-two ] 
 
Cbctbam College 
 
 the solid firm-set chairs and tables ; the faithful 
 carvings, paintings, mouldings ; the silent ranks 
 of good old books, filled full of good old thoughts; 
 the sign and record of much learning, courage, 
 beauty, power, love, and tenderness passed by and 
 perished. Peace be to them all. Amen. 
 
 Chetham Old College resembles a rare and 
 antique vase filled with the faint leaves of with- 
 ered roses. The odour of the dim dead leaves is 
 delicate and frail, but sweet. 
 
 ytnis 
 

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