The inhabitant became an early encroacher upon nor narrow streets, and sometimes the lord was the greatest.  Her houses were mean and low, but few reaching higher than one story, perhaps none more than two; composed of wood and plaister—­she was a stranger to brick.  Her public buildings consisted solely of one, the church.

If we behold her in the fourteenth century, we shall observe her private buildings multiplied more than improved; her narrow streets, by trespass, become narrower, for she was ever chargeable with neglect; her public buildings increased to four, two in the town, and two at a distance, the Priory, of stone, founded by contribution, at the head of which stood her lord; the Guild, of timber, now the Free School; and Deritend Chapel, of the same materials, resembling a barn, with something like an awkward dove-coat, at the west end, by way of steeple.  All these will be noticed in due course.

If we take a view of the inhabitants, we shall find them industrious, plain, and honest; the more of the former, generally, the less of dishonesty, if their superiors lived in an homelier stile in that period, it is no wonder they did.  Perhaps our ancestors acquired more money than their neighbours, and not much of that; but what they had was extremely valuable:  diligence will accumulate.  In curious operations, known only to a few, we may suppose the artist was amply paid.

Nash, in his History of Worcestershire, gives us a curious list of anecdotes, from the church-wardens ledger, of Hales-Owen.  I shall transcribe two, nearly three hundred years old. “Paid for bread and ale, to make my Lord Abbot drink, in Rogation week, 2d.” What should we now think of an ecclesiastical nobleman, accepting a two-penny treat from a country church-warden?

This displays an instance of moderation in a class of people famous for luxury.  It shows also the amazing reduction of money:  the same sum which served my Lord Abbot four days, would now be devoured in four minutes.—­“1498, paid for repeyling the organs, to the organmaker at Bromicham, 10_s_.”  Birmingham then, we find, discovered the powers of genius in the finer arts, as well as in iron.  By ‘the organmaker,’ we mould suppose there was but one.

It appears that the art of acquiring riches was as well understood by our fathers, as by us; while an artist could receive as much money for tuning an organ, as would purchase an acre of land, or treat near half a gross of Lord Abbots.

BATTLE OF CAMP-HILL.

1643.

Clarendon reproaches with virulence, our spirited ancestors, for disloyalty to Charles the First.—­The day after the King left Birmingham, on his march from Shrewsbury, in 1642, they seized his carriages, containing the royal plate and furniture, which they conveyed, for security, to Warwick Castle.  They apprehended all messengers and suspected persons; frequently attacked, and reduced small parties of the royalists, whom they sent prisoners to Coventry.—­Hence the proverbial expression of a refractory person, Send him to Coventry.