An History of Birmingham (1783) Part 30

GENTLEMEN'S SEATS.

This neighbourhood may justly be deemed the seat of the arts, but not the seat of the gentry.

None of the n.o.bility are near us, except William Legge, Earl of Dartmouth, at Sandwell, four miles from Birmingham. The princ.i.p.al houses in our environs, are those of Sir Charles Holte, late member for the county, at Aston; Sir Henry Gough, member for Bamber, at Edgbaston; George Birch, Esq; at Handsworth; John Gough, Esq; at Perry; and John Taylor, Esq; at Bordesley and at Moseley; all joining to the manor of Birmingham. Exclusive of these, are many elegant retreats of our first inhabitants, acquired by commercial success.

Full fed with vanity is an author, when two readers strive to catch up his work, for the pleasure of perusing it:--but, perchance, if two readers dip into this chapter, they may strive to lay it down.

I have hitherto written to the _world_, but now to a small part, _the antiquarians_; nay, a small part of the sensible part; for a fool and an antiquary is a contradiction: they are, to a man, people of letters and penetration. If their judgment is sometimes erroneous, we may consider, man was never designed for perfection; there is also less light to guide them in this, than in other researches. If the traveller slips upon common ground, how will he fare if he treads upon ice?--Besides, in dark questions, as in intricate journies, there are many erroneous ways for one right.

If, like the mathematician, he can establish one point, it ascertains another. We may deem his pursuit one of the most arduous, and attended with the least profit: his emoluments consist in the returns of pleasure to his own mind.

The historian only collects the matter of the day, and hands it to posterity; but the antiquarian brings his treasures from remote ages, and presents them to this: he examines forgotten repositories, calls things back into existence, which are past; counter-acts the efforts of time, and of death; possesses something like a re-creative power; collects the dust of departed matter, moulds it into its prestine state, exhibits the figure to view, and stamps it with a kind of immortality.

Every thing has its day, whether it be a nation, a city, a castle, a man, or an insect; the difference is, one is a winter's day, the other may be extended to the length of a summer's--an _end_ waits upon all.

But we cannot contemplate the end of grandeur, without gloomy ideas.

Birmingham is surrounded with the melancholy remains of extinguished greatness; the decayed habitations of decayed gentry, fill the mind with sorrowful reflections. Here the feet of those marked the ground, whose actions marked the page of history. Their arms glistened in the field; their eloquence moved the senate. Born to command, their influence was extensive; but who now rest in peace among the paupers, fed with the crumbs of their table. The very land which, for ages, was witness to the hospitality of its master, is itself doomed to stirility. The spot which drew the adjacent country, is neglected by all; is often in a wretched state of cultivation, sets for a trifle; the glory is departed; it demands a tear from the traveller, and the winds teem, to sigh over it.

THE MOATS.

In the parish of King's-norton, four miles south west of Birmingham, is _The Moats_, upon which long resided the ancient family of Field. The numerous buildings, which almost formed a village, are totally erased, and barley grows where the beer was drank.

BLACK GREVES.

Eight miles south west of Birmingham, in the same parish, near Withod Chapel, is _Black Greves_ (Black Groves) another seat of the Fields; which, though a family of opulence, were so far from being lords of the manor, that they were in va.s.salage to them.

The whole of that extensive parish is in the crown, which holds the detestable badge of ancient slavery over every tenant, of demanding under the name of harriot, the best moveable he dies possessed of--Thus death and the bailiff make their inroads together; they rob the family in a double capacity, each taking the best moveable.

As the human body descends into the regions of sickness, much sooner than it can return into health; so a family can decline into poverty by hastier steps, than rise into affluence. One generation of extravagance puts a period to many of greatness.

A branch of the Fields, in 1777, finished their ancient grandeur, by signing away the last estate of his family.--Thus he blotted out the name of his ancestors by writing his own.

ULVERLEY, OR CULVERLEY.

Four miles from Birmingham, upon the Warwick road, entering the parish of Solihull, in Castle-lane, is Ulverle, in doom's-day Ulverlei.

Trifling as this place now seems, it must have been the manor-house of Solihull, under the Saxon heptarchy; but went to decay so long ago as the conquest.

The manor was the property of the Earls of Mercia, but whether their residence is uncertain.--The traces of a moat yet remain, which are triangular, and encircle a wretched farm-house of no note: one of the angles of this moat is filled up, and become part of Castle-lane; which proves that Ulverley went into disuse when Hogg's-moat was erected: it also proves that the lane terminated here, which is about two hundred yards from the turnpike road. The great width of the lane, from the road to Ulverley, and the singular narrowness from thence to Hogg's-moat, is another proof of its prior antiquity.

If we pursue our journey half a mile Farther along this lane, which by the way is scarcely pa.s.sable, it will bring us to

HOGG'S-MOAT.

At Oltenend (Old Town) originally Odingsell's-moat, now Hobb's-moat, the ancient manor-house of Solihull, after it had changed its lords at the conquest. The property, as before observed, of Edwin Earl of Mercia, in the reign of Edward the the Confessor.

William the First granted the manor to a favourite lady, named Cristina, probably a handsome la.s.s, of the same complexion as his mother; thus we err when we say William gave all the land in the kingdom to his followers--some little was given to those _he_ followed.

This lady, like many of her successors, having tired the arms of royalty, was conveyed into those of an humble favourite; Ralph de Limesie married her, who became lord of the place, but despising Ulverley, erected this castle.

The line of Limesie continued proprietors four descents; when, in the reign of King John, it became the property of Hugh de Odingsells, by marrying a co-heiress.

The last of the Odingsells, in 1294, left four daughters, one of whom, with the lords.h.i.+p, fell into the hands of John de Clinton; but it is probable the castle was not inhabited after the above date, therefore would quickly fall to decay.

The moat is upon a much larger plan than Ulverley, takes in a compa.s.s of five acres, had two trenches; the outer is nearly obliterated, but the inner is marked with the strongest lines we meet with. This trench is about twenty feet deep, and about thirty yards from the crown of one bank to the other.

When Dugdale saw it, about a hundred and fifty years ago, the center, which is about two acres, where the castle stood, was covered with old oaks; round this center are now some thousands, the oldest of which is not more than a century; so that the timber is changed since the days of Dugdale, but not the appearance of the land.

The center is bare of timber, and exhibits the marks of the plough. The late Benjamin Palmer, Esq; a few years ago, planted it with trees, which are in that dwindling state, that they are not likely to grow so tall as their master[7].

[Footnote 7: He measured about six feet five inches, but was singularly short in the lower parts: his step was not larger than a child's of ten years old. His carriage, by its extraordinary height, looked at a distance like a moving steeple; he sat as high in a common chair, as a man of the middle-size stands: he was as immoderately heavy as he was tall, and as remarkable for good-nature as either. As a man, he shone by his bulk; as a magistrate, in a dull but honest light--his decisions were _intended_ to be just. He seemingly dozed as he walked; but if his own eyes were half shut, those of every other person were open to see him.]

It lies in a pleasant situation, upon a descent, so that the trench in one part is dry, and in another three or four yards deep in water.

A place of such desolation, one would think, was a place of silence--just the reverse. When I saw it, Feb. 23, 1783, the trees were tall, the winds high, and the roar tremendous.

Exclusive of Ulverley and Hogg's-moat, there are many old foundations in Solihull, once the residence of gentry now extinct; as Solihull-hall, the Moat-house, and Kynton, the property of the Botolers; Bury-hall, that of the Warings; who both came over with William: Henwood, belonging to the Hugfords; Hillfield-hall, the ancient seat of the Greswolds, as Malvern was their modern.

YARDLEY.

At Yardley church, four miles east of Birmingham, is _The Moat_, now a pasture; the trench still retains its water, as a remembrance of its former use.

This was anciently the property of the Allestrees, lords of Witton; but about thirty years ago, the building and the family expired together.

KENT'S-MOAT.

One mile farther east is Kent's-moat, in which no noise is heard but the singing of birds, as if for joy that their enemy is fled, and they have regained their former habitation.

This is situate on an eminence, like that of Park-hall, is capacious, has but one trench, supplied by its own springs; and, like that, as complete as earth and water can make it.

This was part of Coles.h.i.+ll, and vested in the crown before the conquest, but soon after granted with that to Clinton, who gave it with a daughter to Verdon; and he, with another, to Anselm de Scheldon, who kept it till the reign of Edward the Third: it afterwards pa.s.sed through several families, till the reign of Henry the Seventh, when it came into that of De Gray, Earl of Kent, whence the name; though, perhaps, the works were erected by Scheldon.

It is now, with Coles.h.i.+ll, the property of Lord Digby; but the building has been so long gone, that tradition herself has lost it.

SHELDON.