CHAPTERS IN THE HISTORY OF ECCLES
By
T. SWINDELLS

A FEW LOOSE STRINGS

One of the most interesting buildings in the Borough is Monk’s Hall, the residence of Dr. Sidley. It is supposed to have been, like Monton Grange, a residence for the priests connected with the Parish Church in pre­Reformation days.

On the other hand evidence is extant that five hundred years ago a family of the name of Monks held land in the village of Barton. In 1394 Richard de Burghton granted to Henry del Monks and Margaret his wife all his messuages and lands in the village of Barton. This family may have owned Monk’s Hall and have given the name to it; but it seems more likely that the estate formerly belonged to the Church, the house that preceded the present building being used as a residence for the priests. There is singularly little in the way of reliable information as to the history of Monk’s Hall, the earliest reference to it belonging to the Puritan period. In 1596 it was the residence of Ellis Hey, who was a man of substance. During the Civil War the family experienced the displeasure of the Parliamentary Authorities for aid­ing the King’s forces. About 1644 Ellis Hey purchased the Chorlton Hall Estates from Ralph Sorocold, who about forty years before had purchased them from Edmund Trafford for the sum of £320. The Chorlton Hall Estates comprised most of the land between Portland Street and the River Medlock, and in 1806 were sold for £60,000. Their value to-day would be at least half a million pounds. How long Ellis Hey held the estates we do not know; but it is recorded that in 1647 he was too much in debt to compound with the Government, but that later he or the trustee of his infant grandson and heir paid a fine of £309. After the Restoration the Hall became a place of worship for a Nonconformist congrega­tion. Before 1681 the estate had passed to Mr. Willis, and for many generations belonged to members of the same family. In 1836 it was a farmhouse surrounded by fields with a garden in front of the house. In 1864, during excavations near the house, an earthen vessel was discovered containing about 6,000 silver pennies belonging chiefly to the reigns of Henry I., II., and III.

Many districts have wells around which time and tradi­tion have woven legends and stories; and Eccles being included in this category a passing word must be said about Our Lady’s Well. Originally there were two wells known severally as the Lord’s and Lady’s wells. They were situated in a deeply shaded dell about three hundred yards east of the Parish Church on the confines of the Old Glebe lands. Through the dell a stream, which rises in Swinton Park, makes its way in the direction of the river, or rather Ship Canal. It formerly joined the river, passing through the red sandstone rock, out of which the wells were cut. For many years the supply of cold clear water was unfailing. At this point the stream fell over a rocky bed, forming a lively cascade, which served to turn a water wheel which worked a mill where probably the Monks ground their corn. The Lady’s Well was approached by a flight of steps about 75 yards from the Eccles New Road, on the Pendleton side of the brook. The Lord’s Well was nearly opposite, the stream separating the two wells. The Lord’s Well was closed many years ago, and in 1846 an effort was made to close the Lady’s Well. This was met by a strong public opposition, with the result that not only was the closing proposal abandoned, but the well was enlarged and repaired, and the steps to it were relaid. How long the well continued to be used is unknown, but it seems pretty certain that the closing took place without public consent being obtained.

The present Vicarage was erected in 1872, Canon Pitcairn being the Vicar at the time. The old Vicarage stood in Church Street, opposite to the Parish Church. The grounds in which it stood covered 8,310 square yards, and in 1870 the house and land were sold for £1,560. The Vicarage was pulled down in 1871, and in the course of a few years the whole of the land was covered with streets and buildings. It was at the old Vicarage that Mr. Huskisson died after receiving his injuries at Park­side.

A word should be said concerning the popular Eccles cake. In 1796 James Birch, a corn miller and baker, commenced making cakes at a shop that occupied the site of the present Bradburn’s shop in Church Street. In 1810 he removed to larger premises on the opposite side of the street, where he died in 1833. The business passed to his nephew, John Birch, who in turn was succeeded by his grandson. William Bradburn, who learned cake making from James Birch, commenced business as a grocer and cake maker in Birch’s old shop, and in this way originated the well-known sign, “never removed” in reply to Birch’s announcement, “removed from across the way.”

Many other matters might have been dealt with had space permitted, including the story of the various places of worship and other public buildings. Something might also have been said about a number of townsmen who have rendered active service to the community; and a chapter might very well have been devoted to the Ship Canal, its inception, construction, and work. These and a variety of other topics may be left for treatment by some future writer when preparing an exhaustive history of the town.

There is one matter which, however, should be dealt with here, not because of the nature of the event recorded, but because the record of the murder was included by Thomas de Quincey in his celebrated and remarkable essay on “Murder considered as one of the fine arts.” The Jolly Carter Inn, Winton, was a century ago isolated from other buildings; although some little distance away there were a number of cottages occupied principally by men who worked on the land or were engaged in handloom weaving. A benefit club held its meetings at the inn, and its funds were left in charge of the landlord, the sum in hand often amounting to sixty or seventy pounds. This fact became known to two brothers who visited the neighbourhood hawking, and who formed a plan for securing the cash. The occupants of the house were the landlord (whose name was Blears), his wife, a young servant woman, and a boy. One of the M’Keans called at the inn about four o’clock one afternoon, the other one arriving about four hours later. The landlord who had been to Manchester returned home about eight o’clock, and the brothers, who professed to be strangers to one another entered into friendly conversation with him and a few residents who called in. Time passed, and about ten o’clock M’Kean, who, like his brother, had engaged a bed for the night, the remainder of the visitors having left, asked to be shown to his room. The servant girl, carrying a candle, proceeded to light him upstairs. The landlord at the time was under the influence of a narcotic, secretly dropped into his ale by one of the conspirators, the land­lady was engaged in trying to rouse her husband, and the boy was in bed, but not asleep. In the room where he lay were two beds, the unoccupied one being shown by the servant to M’Kean. Giving the candle to the visitor, who put it on the table, the girl turned to leave the room. Suddenly M’Kean threw his arms round the girl and attempted to kiss her. She resisted, and in the struggle he drew a razor across her throat. She fell to the floor, and the murderer proceeded to examine the boy’s face. Terror stricken, he pretended to be asleep. M’Kean placed his hand over the boy’s heart, and concluding that he was asleep, was leaving him, when the victim rose from the floor and walked towards the door. Immediately he followed her, and the boy, feeling that his safety depended upon his ability to escape from the house, bounded out of bed, rushed to the landing, and jumping over the balustrade, dropped at the bottom of the stairs. The second brother had been stationed at the foot of the stairs, but when the landlady, who heard the scream uttered by the servant, rushed to her assistance he hastened to stop her progress. Seeing the coast clear the lad rushed through the kitchen, out by the back door, and into the fields behind the house, where he lay down in a ditch. Fearing that the lad would give the alarm, the murderers hurriedly left the house, passing a few yards from where the terrified lad lay. The lad, when his courage was restored, returned to the house only to find the girl dead, the mistress badly hurt, and the landlord unconscious. A few days later the pair of murderers were arrested near Kirkby Lonsdale, and were taken to Lancaster, where they were tried, found guilty, and executed. Such is the story that made the Jolly Carter Inn notorious to thousands of people for many years afterwards.