The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1839-04-19 00:00:00

BY WILLIAM HOWITT,

(From Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.) -
Whitworth is a little village in Lancashire, about three
miles from Rochdale. In this village, I suppose half a century
ago or more, resided John Taylor, a farrier, and most likely,
originally a blacksmith. This man, who possessed a strong,
rough, but sagacious character, was eminently successful in
practice upon horses. It is probable that, seeing the bene-
ficial results of his pharmaceutical and surgical operations on
horses, like Warburton, he began to imagine that they would
succeed on " humans as well." It is certain, however, that
their efficacy was tried, and with such consequences that his
neighbours .begun to have a great opinion of his skill, and
not only to put themselves under his hands, but to sound his
fame abroad in the country. His patients increased to such
a degree that " the humans" soon became more numerous
than the brutes. John Taylor's fame soon became pre-cmi-
neat for the cure of cancers, for setting broken hones, and
straightening twisted and contracted limbs. For these and
numberless other cures, people of all ranks flocked to bins
from all parts of England. lie seems to have been a curious
compound of rude independence and good nature. Whoever
went to him, gentle or simple, lord or labourer, were treated
just in one way. John was no respecter of persons, but he
seemed to have strong feelings Of the rights of man, and an
unbendable sense of justice. It was with him, first come first
served ; as every one entered his dressing-room, or surgery,
or call it what you will, he took his place, and was attended
to in his turn ; and no sooner. It was his daily delight to
deride the skill of the medical men of the country ; and, sure
enough, he had always before him plenty of instances of sig-
nal failures on their part. " A famous doctor of Manchester,"
said he, on one occasion, and naming a leading physician,—
" met me the other day as I was going along the street.
' Well, John Taylor,' said he, ' you go on killing as usual, I
suppose.' ' Ay,' replied I, to humour the man, ' but at a
somewhat cheaper rate than thou does.' !
That John did some signal cures there can be no question.
I knew a lady well who had been given up by the ablest sur-
geons of her neighbourhood as incurable. Her complaint was
a cancer in the breast. Though living a hundred miles from
Whitworth, she resolved, as a last resource, to go to John
Taylor. When John had examined the breast, he looked at
her, and said—" What art thou come here for, woman ?"
The lady, who was a woman of dauntless heart, replied, " To
j be cured, to be sure."

" Cured !" said John in a stern voice, " not all the doctors
in England can cure thee ; thou may go home again, and dee!"
"I tell you, John Taylor," replied the lady, " I shall do no
such thing. lam come here to see whether you are as much
cleverer than other men, as you are represented. Try your
hand, John Taylor, on me. You think lam afraid of being
hurt, but you are mistaken. I can bear what you can inflict ;
and I say, try your hand—let it be kill or cure. I can but die
at last."

" Thou art a brave lass," replied John, in evident surprise.
" Then I will try—and God prosper us both."
The lady remained there six months, and, during that pe-
riod, she suffered as much as it is perhaps possible for a hu-
man creature to bear ; but she came home a sound woman,
and lived thirty years afterwards. I have often sat, when a
boy, and heard her tell what happened at Whitworth.
When I visited Whitworth, old John Taylor was dead,
and his son James, and the two sons of George (then dead.
too) were the doctors. I remember James, a stout man in
a blue coat, about fifty years of age, having much the appear-
ance of a respectable farrier. The elder of the two nephews
appeared a fine active young man of three or four and twen-
ty ; the other, a youth two or three years younger.
A gentleman of great wealth came to Whitworth. He
drove up to the inn in a carriage, with a very splendid equi-
page. He soon sent down a very smart and powdered ser-
vant, who requested John Taylor to wait on him. " Wait
on him !—wait on him !" exclaimed John, in apparent aston-
ishment. " Tell the man I will wait on nobody—those who
come here must wait on me. If he wants me he must come
to the dressing-room like the rest, and take his turn." This
answer was so offensive that the gentleman, though suffering
excruciating pain from a complaint pronounced by his own
medical men to be hopeless, was, like Nahaman, when the
prophet told him to dip in Jordan, so indignant that he
ordered his carriage out, and told the coachman to drive
home again. His servants, however, prevailed on him, as it'
was of so much consequence to himself, to humour the Lan-
cashire bear, as they called him. He did so, and when he
entered the dressing-room—" Thou lazy dog," said John,
" what hast thou come here for ? If it is not worth thy
coming from the inn, it was not worth coming all the way, I
think." The gentleman smothered his indignation, and
John eventually sent him home a sound man.
At another , time a nobleman brought N his lady to Whit-
worth. She could not walk, and was carried into the private
dressing-room. John enquired what was the matter, and
was told she had been startled by a sudden fright; had fallen;
and from that time had not been able to put one foot to the
ground. John Taylor told her to try to walk. The lady,
smiling, answered that if she could have walked she need not
have come to him. Nothing would satisfy John, however,
but that he must try to walk. So, being raised up by her
husband, and leaning on him, she made the attempt. As
she stood in great pain, John went behind her, and gave her
a sudden push with his knee. The lady gave a sudden scream.
and start, and fell into her husband's arms. The nobleman,
very indignant at the insult he supposed put upon his wife,
asked the doctor very fiercely what he meant. " Why,"
said John, " I mean to see what good that has done her.
Let her try to walk again now." The nobleman was very
angry, and the lady vary much alarmed and agitated ; and it
was with the utmost difficulty the doctor could get them any
further to listen to him. " Why, if you are fools, ye are
fools," said John. " Let the woman, I say, try to walk
again." " They were at length prevailed on to consent, when,
to the astonishment of the lady, she found the power of her
limb in a great measure restored, and was able to get across
the room, leaning on her husband. The nobleman was now
as full of amazement as he was before of wrath. "In the
name of wonder," said he, " how came you to hit en that
scheme ? " Why," replied the doctor, the woman's hip
was out. It was put out in a fright, you said, and I thought
a fright was just as likely to put it in again. There it is, you
see. She must have it well bandaged for a while, then all
will be well. But you may go home to-day, if you like."
Of course, the joy of both husband and wife was not small.
The nobleman, in his gratitude, pressed neon John a purse of
gold; but he refused to take more than his regular fee, the
nobleman threw the purse on the table and-left it.

James related this story of himself. He was in Stafford-
shire, near Litchfield, and, it becoming known, he was sent
for to a gentleman who was in bed. When he got into tha
room he round him surrounded with abundance of bottles of
physic. He immediately rung the bell, and ordered the ser-
vants to throw all them into the yard ; and to get up their
master, and let him sit. down to dinner with him. They all
exclaimed that was impossible, for their master had not been
out of bed for some months. " Never mind," said James,
" get us some dinner here, and bring your master a glass of
brandy and water. What lie is dying of is want of nourish-
ment.' With much persuasion the gentleman was got up ;,
drank the brandy and water, and took some food. Next day
he felt a great deal better, James had him down stairs to
dinner; and, in.a very few days, had him out with him on
horseback, and after the hounds.

James used to relate his father's visit to the royal family,
to prescribe for the Princess Elizabeth, with much gusto.
The complaint of the Princess was a continued pain and
stupor in the head. A snuff is made of the powdered leaves
of the Assarabecoa, (Asarum Europccum) which has the
property of purging the head, and of which plenty was grown
in the garden at Whitworth. John, having given his order
and delivered the snuff, looked about him, and, seeing the
Princesses all there, he clapped the Queen familiarly on the
back, and said—" Well, thou art a farrentiy woman to be
mother of such a set of straight-backed lasses."
Charlotte took his unusual familiarity with a very e:ood
grace, sniffling, and replying—" Yes, Mr. Taylor, and fwas
once as straight-backed a lass as any of them."
John had not, however, retired from the presence of royalty
very long, when he was sent for again in great haste. " Well,
and what is the matter now ?" asked he, on entering.
"'Oh ! the Princess is taken with such a continual sneezing
that we are quite alarmed."
" Is that all," said John ; " then let the girl sneeze—that
is the very thing that will do her good."
_ . _ _ _

John is said to have the honour of completely relieving the
Princess' of her complaint. We must, however, give one
more characteristic anecdote of him before we withdraw from
court. One morning, as he sate chatting with the Queen
and Princesses, a draper's man brought in, by order, a num-
ber of piece 3 of Irish linen for the Queen's inspection. On
looking it over, none was found to be so fine as was desired.
The man was ordered to bring some much finer. He, of
course, assured her Majesty that every effort should be used
to meet her wishes, but that he was very doubtful whether
any finer really was made. " Oh, dear, yes !" exclaimed
both Queen and Princesses, " much finer than this, we are
confident."

The man bowed and retired. When he was gone, John
Taylor, who sate closely observing all thet passed, said—
" Now, do you expect the man will bring you any finer ?"
" Oh, certainly !"
`• Well !" said John, "I don't."

" You don't ? Why, Mr. Taylor, what makes you think

" Because," replied John, " I don't think there ever was
finer made than one piece amongst these. But I will tell
you what the man will do. He'll go home and rest awhile,
and then he will come back with the finest piece of cloth, and
put a good deal higher price upon it, and then it will do."
" Oh, no !" exelaimt.d Queen Charlotte, " I am a better
judge of linen than you give me credit for, Mr. Taylor. Be-
sides, the man dare not do such a thing—he would at once
lose our patronage—he dare not do such a thing."
" Well," said John, " we shall see."

" Well, now," said. the Queen, "we will see. You shall
remain here till the man returns, and be convinced."
He did so. The man, after a while, came back with a
single piece. He assured her Majesty that they had sent all
over the city, and had had the good fortune to discover this
piece—certainly the most extraordinarily fine piece of linen
which he had ever beheld. The Queen and the Princesses,
on examining it, at once joined in adiniration of it. " That
was fine indeed! That was much superior to the finest of
the foriner pieces !"
As soon as the man bad withdrawn—" There !" said the
Queen, turning triumphantly to John Taylor, " what do you
think now, Mr. Taylor ? ou will admit, I think, that you
were mistaken."

"That may soon be settled," said John. "If that be the
the fine piece which the man had here before, there is the
mark of my 'thumb on it ; for I never saw finer linen than
that in my life, and, expecting what the man must do, I pri-
vately wet my thumb, and rubbed it in the chimney, before
I took hold of the piece."
There was an instant eager examination of the piece, and
there sure enough, was John Taylor's mark.
The country people in the neighbourhood had such an
opinion of Dr. John's ability, that they believed nothing was
too difficult for him. James often told this story. A country
fellow one day appeared before the house with a couple of
wretched old horses, and asked to speak with the Doctor.
John Taylor went out to him ; and, on seeing the man's
cattle, supposed he was come to sell them for the hounds.
What then was his surprise, when the fellow gravely told him
he got his living by carting coals with these two horses ; that
they were now nearly worn out ; and that he was too poor to
buy fresh ones ; so he would be much obliged if he would
take them, and make him one pretty good tin out of them.
If he could not he was a ruined man.

" One pretty good 'un !" said John, looking very grimly
at the horses ; " why, fellow, what pretty good 'un can be
made out of two such bare-boned old dog-tits as those,
thinkest thou ? But, however, take them, and turn them
into the close by the barn there, and come again in a fort-
night. I must try what I can do for thee."
With many thanks, the man made his bow, and took his
leave. Duly at the end of the fortnight, to the day, the man
appeared, and asked the Doctor if he had done the job for
him. John Taylor called a man, and told him to go and
bring the horse that he made the other day. Accordingly,
the horse was brought from the neighbouring croft, and the
fellow, looking him all over with the air of a judge, declared
that the horse was certainly better than both of the old 'uns
put together ; " but," said he, " Doctor, you've made one
mistake, and a great 'un."

" What's that ?" asked the Doctor.
" Why," said the fellow, " it's a wall-eyed 'un ; and of
all things, I canna abide a wall-eyed 'un."
" Get away, thou fool !" said Dr. John, " thou should ha'
told me that before. It can't be altered now." So the man
walked his beast off the ground, never for a moment doubt-
ing but it was compounded of the two'old ones, or thinking
it at all wonderful that Dr. John had done such a thing. The
Doctor had plenty of horses on the moor, reserved for his
hounds ; and out of these he had picked the best.
But we must draw to a close. Great changes time has
made amongst the Whitworth Doctors, as well as amongst
other people, since that day. Time has swept away Dr. John,
and Dr. James, and Mrs. George, and one of the younger

ones tob. I have heard something of the two young men
going out shooting, and one accidentally shooting the other;
of the younger branches going to study, and taking their me-
dical degrees at the university ; that one or more still remains
at Whitworth one practices largely, much in the old style,
at Oldfield-lane, Manchester; and one is settled at Tochnor-
den. The newspapers, in giving an account of the riots at
'Todmorden the other day, stated that the house of James
Taylor, Esq., a magistrate, and one of the family of the fa-
mous Whitworth Doctors, had been entered by the rioters,
and his family paintings cut to pieces. Can this be the James
of the days of my visit to Whitworth—the slim youth of the
old pill-manufacturing bat? If so, it is probable that the
portraits of Drs. John, and James, and George, of Mrs.
George, and all the famous Whitworth Doctors, are gone to
destruction, beyond the art of their successors, or all the
powers of " keen," red-bottle, or black-plaster, to restore
them. The rascally rogues of odmorden rioters ! A cotton-
mill might have been rebuilt ; but who shall return to the
world the likeness of honest John Taylor, who made nobles
come to him as common men ; who clapped the Queen of
England on the back ; and made, for a believing countryman,
one " preatty" good horse of two bad ones? The loss is ir-
reparable ; and, perhaps, even this slight reminiscence may
he the most palpable record of him remaining.

AFTER-DINNER SITTINGS

(From " Births, Deaths, and Marriages," an interesting
Novel by the Author of " Sayings and Doings," &c.)
Ladies who are themselves charming, and who fancy that
the men at table arc not altogether disagreeable, feel no dis-
inclination, especially in country houses, to linger long before
they " retire : ' it is only your very modest, very foolish, or
very vulgar person, who bestirs herself to get away from an
intercourse which, in self-defence, every intellectual. English-
woman, for her own sake and for the sake of the male portion
of her party,. ought to prolong. In French society, the whole
coterie rise - together like a covey of partridges, and, there-
fore, it makes no great difference at what particular moment
they go ; but, with all our translations into English of foreign
fashions, we shall be a long time before the national prejudice
of sitting a little—not for any very long period—after dinner,
subsequently. to the departure of the bright stars of the ,firma-
ment, is generally abandoned and abolished. We love to
drink their healths when they are gone ; we love to talk of
them and all about them ;—and then " Bull" must have his
politics—politics must be the topic, after the ladies are gone,
in every circle where nothing about the real state of politics
happens to be known. Why men and women should sepa-
rate after dinner for any lengthened period certainly requires
a solution ; but as English custom has, time out of mind,
made it a law, all we can say is, that the longer the mistress
of the house stays at table after dinner, the more benefit she
does to society, and the more rational amusement she and her
lady friends enjoy.
English people get sociable only round a dinner table (and
any dinner table, except a round one, we presume, is rarely
seen in these days). Strangers who, (it' a Man is weak
enough to be in time to witness its miseries) seem, in that
melancholy stage of purgatorial dulness, the quarter of 'an
hour before dinner, absolute monsters, if they chance to be
strangers, become by half-past eight o'clock generally endu-
rable—sometimes pleasant; and only conceive, just as this
sort of congenial feeling is coming over one, to catch the in-
quiring look of the lady of the house directed towards the
leader of the throng, and see the whole bevy take their de-
parture in long and melancholy array !
When you go to the drawing-rooms—if you do—the thing
is all to be begun over again ; it is a new field. Rely upon it
that nothing giVes so much play to English society, high or
low, as the aid of a dinner table : it gets rid of an awkward-
ness with which the islanders are, more or less, universally
affected ; it puts them at their ease ; and however cold and
stiff the affair may be in the outset, it rarely happens but that
before the dessert is put down, all is going well. The best
proof of the truth of this axiom may be exhibited in the sup-
position of what the same twelve people—we mention twelve
as an extreme number to be comfortablS at a round table—
would do; if it were possible to allow the said table suddenly
to sink, like the caldron of the Weird Sisters, through the
floor, and leave them sitting round the outside edge •of the
circle which it had just previously occupied.
It might, in some societies, be dangerous to perform this
experiment too suddenly; but, done with due precaution, it
would unquestionably produce on the convives a most extra-
ordinary evolution of feeling.