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Metcalf's birthplace Knaresborough
John Metcalf was born at
Knaresborough in 1717, the son of poor working people. When only six years
old he was seized with virulent small-pox, which totally destroyed his
sight. The blind boy, when sufficiently recovered to go abroad, first learnt
to grope from door to door along the walls on either side of his parents'
dwelling. In about six months he was able to feel his way to the end of the
street and back without a guide, and in three years he could go on a message
to any part of the town. He grew strong and healthy, and longed to join in
the sports of boys of his age. He went bird-nesting with them, and climbed
the trees while the boys below directed him to the nests, receiving his
share of eggs and young birds. Thus he shortly became an expert climber, and
could mount with ease any tree that he was able to grasp. He rambled into
the lanes and fields alone, and soon knew every foot of the ground for miles
round Knaresborough. He next learnt to ride, delighting above all things in
a gallop. He contrived to keep a dog and coursed hares: indeed, the boy was
the marvel of the neighbourhood. His unrestrainable activity, his acuteness
of sense, his shrewdness, and his cleverness, astonished everybody.
The boy's confidence in
himself was such, that though blind, he was ready to undertake almost any
adventure. Among his other arts he learned to swim in the Nidd, and became
so expert that on one occasion he saved the lives of three of his
companions. Once, when two men were drowned in a deep part of the river,
Metcalf was sent for to dive for them, which he did, and brought up one of
the bodies at the fourth diving: the other had been carried down the stream.
He thus also saved a manufacturer's yarn, a large quantity of which had been
carried by a sudden flood into a deep hole under the High Bridge. At home,
in the evenings, he learnt to play the fiddle, and became so skilled on the
instrument, that he was shortly able to earn money by playing dance music at
country parties. At Christmas time he played waits, and during the Harrogate
season he played to the assemblies at the Queen's Head and the Green Dragon.
On one occasion, towards
dusk, he acted as guide to a belated gentleman along the difficult road from
York to Harrogate. The road was then full of windings and turnings, and in
many places it was no better than a track across unenclosed moors. Metcalf
brought the gentleman safe to his inn, "The Granby," late at night, and was
invited to join in a tankard of negus. On Metcalf leaving the room, the
gentleman observed to the landlord--"I think, landlord, my guide must have
drunk a great deal of spirits since we came here." "Why so, Sir?" "Well, I
judge so, from the appearance of his eyes." "Eyes! bless you, Sir," rejoined
the landlord, "don't yon know that he is blind?" "Blind! What do you mean by
that?" "I mean, Sir, that he cannot see--he is as blind as a stone. "Well,
landlord," said the gentleman, "this is really too much: call him in." Enter
Metcalf. "My friend, are you really blind?" "Yes, Sir," said he, "I lost my
sight when six years old." "Had I known that, I would not have ventured with
you on that road from York for a hundred pounds." "And I, Sir," said
Metcalf, "would not have lost my way for a thousand."
Metcalf having thriven and
saved money, bought and rode a horse of his own. He had a great affection
for the animal, and when he called, it would immediately answer him by
neighing. The most surprising thing is that he was a good huntsman; and to
follow the hounds was one of his greatest pleasures. He was as bold as a
rider as ever took the field. He trusted much, no doubt, to the sagacity of
his horse; but he himself was apparently regardless of danger. The hunting
adventures which are related of him, considering his blindness, seem
altogether marvellous. He would also run his horse for the petty prizes or
plates given at the "feasts" in the neighbourhood, and he attended the races
at York and other places, where he made bets with considerable skill,
keeping well in his memory the winning and losing horses. After the races,
he would return to Knaresborough late at night, guiding others who but for
him could never have made out the way.
On one occasion he rode his
horse in a match in Knaresborough Forest. The ground was marked out by
posts, including a circle of a mile, and the race was three times round.
Great odds were laid against the blind man, because of his supposed
inability to keep the course. But his ingenuity was never at fault. He
procured a number of dinner-bells from the Harrogate inns and set men to
ring them at the several posts. Their sound was enough to direct him during
the race, and the blind man came in the winner! After the race was over, a
gentleman who owned a notorious runaway horse came up and offered to lay a
bet with Metcalf that he could not gallop the horse fifty yards and stop it
within two hundred. Metcalf accepted the bet, with the condition that he
might choose his ground. This was agreed to, but there was to be neither
hedge nor wall in the distance. Metcalf forthwith proceeded to the
neighbourhood of the large bog near the Harrogate Old Spa, and having placed
a person on the line in which he proposed to ride, who was to sing a song to
guide him by its sound, he mounted and rode straight into the bog, where he
had the horse effectually stopped within the stipulated two hundred yards,
stuck up to his saddle-girths in the mire. Metcalf scrambled out and claimed
his wager; but it was with the greatest difficulty that the horse could be
extricated.
The blind man also played at
bowls very successfully, receiving the odds of a bowl extra for the
deficiency of each eye. He had thus three bowls for the other's one; and he
took care to place one friend at the jack and another midway, who, keeping
up a constant discourse with him, enabled him readily to judge of the
distance. In athletic sports, such as wrestling and boxing, he was also a
great adept; and being now a full-grown man, of great strength and
robustness, about six feet two in height, few durst try upon him the
practical jokes which cowardly persons are sometimes disposed to play upon
the blind.
Notwithstanding his
mischievous tricks and youthful wildness, there must have been something
exceedingly winning about the man, possessed, as he was, of a strong, manly,
and affectionate nature; and we are not, therefore, surprised to learn that
the land lord's daughter of "The Granby" fairly fell in love with Blind Jack
and married him, much to the disgust of her relatives. When asked how it was
that she could marry such a man, her woman-like reply was, "Because I could
not be happy without him: his actions are so singular, and his spirit so
manly and enterprising, that I could not help loving him." But, after all,
Dolly was not so far wrong in the choice as her parents thought her. As the
result proved, Metcalf had in him elements of success in life, which, even
according to the world's estimate, made him eventually a very "good match,"
and the woman's clear sight in this case stood her in good stead.
But before this marriage was
consummated, Metcalf had wandered far and "seen" a good deal of the world,
as he termed it. He travelled on horseback to Whitby, and from thence he
sailed for London, taking with him his fiddle, by the aid of which he
continued to earn enough to maintain himself for several weeks in the
metropolis. Returning to Whitby, He sailed from thence to Newcastle to "see"
some friends there, whom he had known at Harrogate while visiting that
watering-place. He was welcomed by many families and spent an agreeable
month, afterwards visiting Sunderland, still supporting himself by his
violin playing. Then he returned to Whitby for his horse, and rode homeward
alone to Knaresborough by Pickering, Malton, and York, over very bad roads,
the greater part of which he had never travelled before, yet without once
missing his way. When he arrived at York, it was the dead of night, and he
found the city gates at Middlethorp shut. They were of strong planks, with
iron spikes fixed on the top; but throwing his horse's bridle-rein over one
of the spikes, he climbed up, and by the help of a corner of the wall that
joined the gates, he got safely over: then opening; them from the inside, he
led his horse through.
After another season at
Harrogate, he made a second visit to London, in the company of a North
countryman who played the small pipes. He was kindly entertained by Colonel
Liddell, of Ravensworth Castle, who gave him a general invitation to his
house. During this visit which was in 1730-1, Metcalf ranged freely over the
metropolis, visiting Maidenhead and Reading, and returning by Windsor and
Hampton Court. The Harrogate season being at hand, he prepared to proceed
thither,--Colonel Liddell, who was also about setting out for Harrogate,
offering him a seat behind his coach. Metcalf thanked him, but declined the
offer, observing that he could, with great ease, walk as, far in a day as
he, the Colonel, was likely to travel in his carriage; besides, he preferred
the walking. That a blind man should undertake to walk a distance of two
hundred miles over an unknown road, in the same time that it took a
gentleman to perform the same distance in his coach, dragged by post-horses,
seems almost incredible; yet Metcalf actually arrived at Harrogate before
the Colonel, and that without hurrying by the way. The circumstance is
easily accounted for by the deplorable state of the roads, which made
travelling by foot on the whole considerably more expeditious than
travelling by coach. The story is even extant of a man with a wooden leg
being once offered a lift upon a stage-coach; but he declined, with "Thank'ee,
I can't wait; I'm in a hurry." And he stumped on, ahead of the coach.
The account of Metcalf's
journey on foot from London to Harrogate is not without a special bearing on
our subject, as illustrative of the state of the roads at the time. He
started on a Monday morning, about an hour before the Colonel in his
carriage, with his suite, which consisted of sixteen servants on horseback.
It was arranged that they should sleep that night at Welwyn, in
Hertfordshire. Metcalf made his way to Barnet; but a little north of that
town, where the road branches off to St. Albans, he took the wrong way, and
thus made a considerable detour. Nevertheless he arrived at Welwyn first, to
the surprise of the Colonel. Next morning he set off as before, and reached
Biggleswade; but there he found the river swollen and no bridge provided to
enable travellers to cross to the further side. He made a considerable
circuit, in the hope of finding some method of crossing the stream, and was
so fortunate as to fall in with a fellow wayfarer, who led the way across
some planks, Metcalf following the sound of his feet. Arrived at the other
side, Metcalf, taking some pence from his pocket, said, "Here, my good
fellow, take that and get a pint of beer." The stranger declined, saying he
was welcome to his services. Metcalf, however, pressed upon his guide the
small reward, when the other asked, "Pray, can you see very well?" "Not
remarkably well," said Metcalf. "My friend," said the stranger, "I do not
mean to tithe you: I am the rector of this parish; so God bless you, and I
wish you a good journey. " Metcalf set forward again with the blessing, and
reached his journey's end safely, again before the Colonel. On the Saturday
after their setting out from London, the travellers reached Wetherby, where
Colonel Liddell desired to rest until the Monday; but Metcalf proceeded on
to Harrogate, thus completing the journey in six days,--the Colonel arriving
two days later.
He now renewed his musical
performances at Harrogate, and was also in considerable request at the Ripon
assemblies, which were attended by most of the families of distinction in
that neighbourhood. When the season at Harrogate was over, he retired to
Knaresborough with his young wife, and having purchased an old house, he had
it pulled down and another built on its site,--he himself getting the
requisite stones for the masonry out of the bed of the adjoining river. The
uncertainty of the income derived from musical performances led him to think
of following some more settled pursuit, now that he had a wife to maintain
as well as himself. He accordingly set up a four-wheeled and a one-horse
chaise for the public accommodation,--Harrogate up to that time being
without any vehicle for hire. The innkeepers of the town having followed his
example, and abstracted most of his business, Metcalf next took to
fish-dealing. He bought fish at the coast, which he conveyed on horseback to
Leeds and other towns for sale. He continued indefatigable at this trade for
some time, being on the road often for nights together; but he was at length
forced to abandon it in consequence of the inadequacy of the returns. He was
therefore under the necessity of again taking up his violin; and he was
employed as a musician in the Long Room at Harrogate, at the time of the
outbreak of the Rebellion of 1745.
The news of the rout of the
Royal army at Prestonpans, and the intended march of the Highlanders
southwards, put a stop to business as well as pleasure, and caused a general
consternation throughout the northern counties. The great bulk of the people
were, however, comparatively indifferent to the measures of defence which
were adopted; and but for the energy displayed by the country gentlemen in
raising forces in support of the established government, the Stuarts might
again have been seated on the throne of Britain. Among the county gentlemen
of York who distinguished themselves on the occasion was William Thornton,
Esq., of Thornville Royal. The county having voted ninety thousand pounds
for raising, clothing, and maintaining a body of four thousand men, Mr.
Thornton proposed, at a public meeting held at York, that they should be
embodied with the regulars and march with the King's forces to meet the
Pretender in the field. This proposal was, however, overruled, the majority
of the meeting resolving that the men should be retained at home for
purposes merely of local defence. On this decision being come to, Mr.
Thornton determined to raise a company of volunteers at his own expense, and
to join the Royal army with such force as he could muster. He then went
abroad among his tenantry and servants, and endeavoured to induce them to
follow him, but without success.
Still determined on raising
his company, Mr. Thornton next cast about him for other means; and who
should he think of in his emergency but Blind Jack! Metcalf had often played
to his family at Christmas time, and the Squire knew him to be one of the
most popular men in the neighbourhood. He accordingly proceeded to
Knaresborough to confer with Metcalf on the subject. It was then about the
beginning of October, only a fortnight after the battle of Prestonpans.
Sending for Jack to his inn, Mr. Thornton told him of the state of
affairs--that the French were coming to join the rebels--and that if the
country were allowed to fall into their hands, no man's wife, daughter, nor
sister would be safe. Jack's loyalty was at once kindled. If no one else
would join the Squire, he would! Thus enlisted--perhaps carried away by his
love of adventure not less than by his feeling of patriotism Metcalf
proceeded to enlist others, and in two days a hundred and forty men were
obtained, from whom Mr. Thornton drafted sixty-four, the intended number of
his company. The men were immediately drilled and brought into a state of as
much efficiency as was practicable in the time; and when they marched off to
join General Wade's army at Boroughbridge, the Captain said to them on
setting out, "My lads! you are going to form part of a ring-fence to the
finest estate in the world!" Blind Jack played a march at the head of the
company, dressed in blue and buff, and in a gold-laced hat. The Captain said
he would willingly give a hundred guineas for only one eye to put in Jack's
head: he was such a useful, spirited, handy fellow.
On arriving at Newcastle,
Captain Thornton's company was united to Pulteney's regiment, one of the
weakest. The army lay for a week in tents on the Moor. Winter had set in,
and the snow lay thick on the ground; but intelligence arriving that Prince
Charles, with his Highlanders, was proceeding southwards by way of Carlisle,
General Wade gave orders for the immediate advance of the army on Hexham, in
the hope of intercepting them by that route. They set out on their march
amidst hail and snow; and in addition to the obstruction caused by the
weather, they had to overcome the difficulties occasioned by the badness of
the roads. The men were often three or four-hours in marching a mile, the
pioneers having to fill up ditches and clear away many obstructions in
making a practicable passage for the artillery and baggage. The army was
only able to reach Ovingham, a distance of little more than ten miles, after
fifteen hours' marching. The night was bitter cold; the ground was frozen so
hard that but few of the tent-pins could be driven; and the men lay down
upon the earth amongst their straw. Metcalf, to keep up the spirits of his
company for sleep was next to impossible --took out his fiddle and played
lively tunes whilst the men danced round the straw, which they set on fire.
Next day the army marched for
Hexham; But the rebels having already passed southward, General Wade
retraced. his steps to Newcastle to gain the high road leading to Yorkshire,
whither he marched in all haste; and for a time his army lay before Leeds on
fields now covered with streets, some of which still bear the names of
Wade-lane, Camp-road, and Camp-field, in consequence of the event.
On the retreat of Prince
Charles from Derby, General Wade again proceeded to Newcastle, while the
Duke of Cumberland hung upon the rear of the rebels along their line of
retreat by Penrith and Carlisle. Wade's army proceeded by forced marches
into Scotland, and at length came up with the Highlanders at Falkirk.
Metcalf continued with Captain Thornton and his company throughout all these
marchings and countermarchings, determined to be of service to his master if
he could, and at all events to see the end of the campaign. At the battle of
Falkirk he played his company to the field; but it was a grossly-mismanaged
battle on the part of the Royalist General, and the result was a total
defeat. Twenty of Thornton's men were made prisoners, with the lieutenant
and ensign. The Captain himself only escaped by taking refuge in a poor
woman's house in the town of Falkirk, where he lay hidden for many days;
Metcalf returning to Edinburgh with the rest of the defeated army.
Some of the Dragoon officers,
hearing of Jack's escape, sent for him to head-quarters at Holyrood, to
question him about his Captain. One of them took occasion to speak
ironically of Thornton's men, and asked Metcalf how he had contrived to
escape. "Oh!" said Jack, "I found it easy to follow the sound of the
Dragoons' horses-- they made such a clatter over the stones when flying from
the Highlandmen. Another asked him how he, a blind man, durst venture upon
such a service; to which Metcalf replied, that had he possessed a pair of
good eyes, perhaps he would not have come there to risk the loss of them by
gunpowder. No more questions were asked, and Jack withdrew; but he was not
satisfied about the disappearance of Captain Thornton, and determined on
going back to Falkirk, within the enemy's lines, to get news of him, and
perhaps to rescue him, if that were still possible.
The rest of the company were
very much disheartened at the loss of their officers and so many of their
comrades, and wished Metcalf to furnish them with the means of returning
home. But he would not hear of such a thing, and strongly encouraged them to
remain until, at all events, he had got news of the Captain. He then set out
for Prince Charles's camp. On reaching the outposts of the English army, he
was urged by the officer in command to lay aside his project, which would
certainly cost him his life. But Metcalf was not to be dissuaded, and he was
permitted to proceed, which he did in the company of one of the rebel spies,
pretending that he wished to be engaged as a musician in the Prince's army.
A woman whom they met returning to Edinburgh from the field of Falkirk,
laden with plunder, gave Metcalf a token to her husband, who was Lord George
Murray's cook, and this secured him an access to the Prince's quarters; but,
notwithstanding a most diligent search, he could hear nothing of his master.
Unfortunately for him, a person who had seen him at Harrogate, pointed him
out as a suspicions character, and he was seized and put in confinement for
three days, after which he was tried by court martial; but as nothing could
be alleged against him, he was acquitted, and shortly after made his escape
from the rebel camp. On reaching Edinburgh, very much to his delight he
found Captain Thornton had arrived there before him.
On the 30th of January, 1746,
the Duke of Cumberland reached Edinburgh, and put himself at the head of the
Royal army, which proceeded northward in pursuit of the Highlanders. At
Aberdeen, where the Duke gave a ball, Metcalf was found to be the only
musician in camp who could play country dances, and he played to the
company, standing on a chair, for eight hours,--the Duke several times, as
he passed him, shouting out "Thornton, play up!" Next morning the Duke sent
him a present of two guineas; but as the Captain would not allow him to
receive such gifts while in his pay, Metcalf spent the money, with his
permission, in giving a treat to the Duke's two body servants. The battle of
Culloden, so disastrous to the poor Highlanders; shortly followed; after
which Captain Thornton, Metcalf, and the Yorkshire Volunteer Company,
proceeded homewards. Metcalf's young wife had been in great fears for the
safety of her blind, fearless, and almost reckless partner; but she received
him with open arms, and his spirit of adventure being now considerably
allayed, he determined to settle quietly down to the steady pursuit of
business.
During his stay in Aberdeen,
Metcalf had made himself familiar with the articles of clothing manufactured
at that place, and he came to the conclusion that a profitable trade might
be carried on by buying them on the spot, and selling them by retail to
customers in Yorkshire. He accordingly proceeded to Aberdeen in the
following spring; and bought a considerable stock of cotton and worsted
stockings, which he found he could readily dispose of on his return home.
His knowledge of horseflesh--in which he was, of course, mainly guided by
his acute sense of feeling--also proved highly serviceable to him, and he
bought considerable numbers of horses in Yorkshire for sale in Scotland,
bringing back galloways in return. It is supposed that at the same time he
carried on a profitable contraband trade in tea and such like articles.
After this, Metcalf began a
new line of business, that of common carrier between York and Knaresborough,
plying the first stage-waggon on that road. He made the journey twice a week
in summer and once a week in winter. He also undertook the conveyance of
army baggage, most other owners of carts at that time being afraid of
soldiers, regarding them as a wild rough set, with whom it was dangerous to
have any dealings. But the blind man knew them better, and while he drove a
profitable trade in carrying their baggage from town to town, they never did
him any harm. By these means, he very shortly succeeded in realising a
considerable store of savings, besides being able to maintain his family in
respectability and comfort.
Metcalf, however, had not yet
entered upon the main business of his life. The reader will already have
observed how strong of heart and resolute of purpose he was. During his
adventurous career he had acquired a more than ordinary share of experience
of the world. Stone blind as he was from his childhood, he had not been able
to study books, but he had carefully studied men. He could read characters
with wonderful quickness, rapidly taking stock, as he called it, of those
with whom he came in contact. In his youth, as we have seen, he could follow
the hounds on horse or on foot, and managed to be in at the death with the
most expert riders. His travels about the country as a guide to those who
could see, as a musician, soldier, chapman, fish-dealer, horse-dealer, and
waggoner, had given him a perfectly familiar acquaintance with the northern
roads. He could measure timber or hay in the stack, and rapidly reduce their
contents to feet and inches after a mental process of his own. Withal he was
endowed with an extraordinary activity and spirit of enterprise, which, had
his sight been spared him, would probably have rendered him one of the most
extraordinary men of his age. As it was, Metcalf now became one of the
greatest of its road-makers and bridge-builders.
John Metcalf, the blind road-maker.
About the year 1765 an Act
was passed empowering a turnpike-road to be constructed between Harrogate
and Boroughbridge. The business of contractor had not yet come into
existence, nor was the art of road-making much understood; and in a remote
country place such as Knaresborough the surveyor had some difficulty in
finding persons capable of executing the necessary work. The shrewd Metcalf
discerned in the proposed enterprise the first of a series of public roads
of a similar kind throughout the northern counties, for none knew better
than he did how great was the need of them. He determined, therefore, to
enter upon this new line of business, and offered to Mr. Ostler, the master
surveyor, to construct three miles of the proposed road between Minskip and
Fearnsby. Ostler knew the man well, and having the greatest confidence in
his abilities, he let him the contract. Metcalf sold his stage-waggons and
his interest in the carrying business between York and Knaresborough, and at
once proceeded with his new undertaking. The materials for metaling the road
were to be obtained from one gravel-pit for the whole length, and he made
his arrangements on a large scale accordingly, hauling out the ballast with
unusual expedition and economy, at the same time proceeding with the
formation of the road at all points; by which means he was enabled the first
to complete his contract, to the entire satisfaction of the surveyor and
trustees.
This was only the first of a
vast number of similar projects on which Metcalf was afterwards engaged,
extending over a period of more than thirty years. By the time that he had
finished the road, the building of a bridge at Boroughbridge was advertised,
and Metcalf sent in his tender with many others. At the same time he frankly
stated that, though he wished to undertake the work, he had not before
executed anything of the kind. His tender being on the whole the most
favourable, the trustees sent for Metcalf, and on his appearing before them,
they asked him what he knew of a bridge. He replied that he could readily
describe his plan of the one they proposed to build, if they would be good
enough to write down his figures. The span of the arch, 18 feet," said he,
"being a semicircle, makes 27: the arch-stones must be a foot deep, which,
if multiplied by 27, will be 486; and the basis will be 72 feet more. This
for the arch; but it will require good backing, for which purpose there are
proper stones in the old Roman wall at Aldborough, which may be used for the
purpose, if you please to give directions to that effect." It is doubtful
whether the trustees were able to follow his rapid calculations; but they
were so much struck by his readiness and apparently complete knowledge of
the work he proposed to execute, that they gave him the contract to build
the bridge; and he completed it within the stipulated time in a satisfactory
and workmanlike manner.
He next agreed to make the
mile and a half of turnpike-road between his native town of Knaresborough
and Harrogate--ground with which he was more than ordinarily familiar.
Walking one day over a portion of the ground on which the road was to be
made, while still covered with grass, he told the workmen that he thought it
differed from the ground adjoining it, and he directed them to try for stone
or gravel underneath; and, strange to say, not many feet down, the men came
upon the stones of an old Roman causeway, from which he obtained much
valuable material for the making of his new road. At another part of the
contract there was a bog to be crossed, and the surveyor thought it
impossible to make a road over it. Metcalf assured him that he could readily
accomplish it; on which the other offered, if he succeeded, to pay him for
the straight road the price which he would have to pay if the road were
constructed round the bog. Metcalf set to work accordingly, and had a large
quantity of furze and ling laid upon the bog, over which he spread layers of
gravel. The plan answered effectually, and when the materials had become
consolidated, it proved one of the best parts of the road.
It would be tedious to
describe in detail the construction of the various roads and bridges which
Metcalf subsequently executed, but a brief summary of the more important
will suffice. In Yorkshire, he made the roads between Harrogate and Harewood
Bridge; between Chapeltown and Leeds; between Broughton and Addingham;
between Mill Bridge and Halifax; between Wakefield and Dewsbury; between
Wakefield and Doncaster; between Wakefield, Huddersfield, and Saddleworth
(the Manchester road); between Standish and Thurston Clough; between
Huddersfield and Highmoor; between Huddersfield and Halifax, and between
Knaresborough and Wetherby.
In Lancashire also, Metcalf
made a large extent of roads, which were of the greatest importance in
opening up the resources of that county. Previous to their construction,
almost the only means of communication between districts was by horse-tracks
and mill-roads, of sufficient width to enable a laden horse to pass along
them with a pack of goods or a sack of corn slung across its back. Metcalf's
principal roads in Lancashire were those constructed by him between Bury and
Blackburn, with a branch to Accrington; between Bury and Haslingden; and
between Haslingden and Accrington, with a branch to Blackburn. He also made
some highly important main roads connecting Yorkshire and Lancashire with
each other at many parts: as, for instance, those between Skipton, Colne,
and Burnley; and between Docklane Head and Ashton-under-Lyne. The roads from
Ashton to Stockport and from Stockport to Mottram Langdale were also his
work.
Our road-maker was also
extensively employed in the same way in the counties of Cheshire and Derby;
constructing the roads between Macclesfield and Chapel-le-Frith, between
Whaley and Buxton, between Congleton and the Red Bull (entering
Staffordshire), and in various other directions. The total mileage of the
turnpike-roads thus constructed was about one hundred and eighty miles, for
which Metcalf received in all about sixty-five thousand pounds. The making
of these roads also involved the building of many bridges, retaining-walls,
and culverts. We believe it was generally admitted of the works constructed
by Metcalf that they well stood the test of time and use; and, with a degree
of justifiable pride, he was afterwards accustomed to point to his bridges,
when others were tumbling during floods, and boast that none of his had
fallen.
This extraordinary man not
only made the highways which were designed for him by other surveyors, but
himself personally surveyed and laid out many of the most important roads
which he constructed, in difficult and mountainous parts of Yorkshire and
Lancashire. One who personally knew Metcalf thus wrote of him during his
life-time:. "With the assistance only of a long staff, I have several times
met this man traversing the roads, ascending steep and rugged heights,
exploring valleys and investigating their several extents, forms, and
situations, so as to answer his designs in the best manner. The plans which
he makes, and the estimates he prepares, are done in a method peculiar to
himself, and of which he cannot well convey the meaning to others. His
abilities in this respect are, nevertheless, so great that he finds constant
employment. Most of the roads over the Peak in Derbyshire have been altered
by his directions, particularly those in the vicinity of Buxton; and he is
at this time constructing a new one betwixt Wilmslow and Congleton, to open
a communication with the great London road, without being obliged to pass
over the mountains. I have met this blind projector while engaged in making
his survey. He was alone as usual, and, amongst other conversation, I made
some inquiries respecting this new road. It was really astonishing to hear
with what accuracy he described its course and the nature of the different
soils through which it was conducted. Having mentioned to him a boggy piece
of ground it passed through, he observed that 'that was the only place he
had doubts concerning, and that he was apprehensive they had, contrary to
his directions, been too sparing of their materials.'"*[1]
Metcalf's skill in
constructing his roads over boggy ground was very great; and the following
may be cited as an instance. When the high-road from Huddersfield to
Manchester was determined on, he agreed to make it at so much a rood, though
at that time the line had not been marked out. When this was done, Metcalf,
to his dismay, found that the surveyor had laid it out across some deep
marshy ground on Pule and Standish Commons. On this he expostulated with the
trustees, alleging the much greater expense that he must necessarily incur
in carrying out the work after their surveyor's plan. They told him,
however, that if he succeeded in making a complete road to their
satisfaction, he should not be a loser; but they pointed out that, according
to their surveyor's views, it would be requisite for him to dig out the bog
until he came to a solid bottom. Metcalf, on making his calculations, found
that in that case he would have to dig a trench some nine feet deep and
fourteen yards broad on the average, making about two hundred and
ninety-four solid yards of bog in every rood, to be excavated and carried
away. This, he naturally conceived, would have proved both tedious as well
as costly, and, after all, the road would in wet weather have been no better
than a broad ditch, and in winter liable to be blocked up with snow. He
strongly represented this view to the trustees as well as the surveyor, but
they were immovable. It was, therefore, necessary for him to surmount the
difficulty in some other way, though he remained firm in his resolution not
to adopt the plan proposed by the surveyor. After much cogitation he
appeared again before the trustees, and made this proposal to them: that he
should make the road across the marshes after his own plan, and then, if it
should be found not to answer, he would be at the expense of making it over
again after the surveyor's proposed method. This was agreed to; and as he
had undertaken to make nine miles of the road within ten months, he
immediately set to work with all despatch.
Nearly four hundred men were
employed upon the work at six different points, and their first operation
was to cut a deep ditch along either side of the intended road, and throw
the excavated stuff inwards so as to raise it to a circular form. His
greatest difficulty was in getting the stones laid to make the drains, there
being no firm footing for a horse in the more boggy places. The Yorkshire
clothiers, who passed that way to Huddersfield market --by no means a
soft-spoken race--ridiculed Metcalf's proceedings, and declared that he and
his men would some day have to be dragged out of the bog by the hair of
their heads! Undeterred, however, by sarcasm, he persistently pursued his
plan of making the road practicable for laden vehicles; but he strictly
enjoined his men for the present to keep his manner of proceeding; a secret.
His plan was this. He ordered
heather and ling to be pulled from the adjacent ground, and after binding it
together in little round bundles, which could be grasped with the hand,
these bundles were placed close together in rows in the direction of the
line of road, after which other similar bundles were placed transversely
over them; and when all had been pressed well down, stone and gravel were
led on in broad-wheeled waggons, and spread over the bundles, so as to make
a firm and level way. When the first load was brought and laid on, and the
horses reached the firm ground again in safety, loud cheers were set up by
the persons who had assembled in the expectation of seeing both horses and
waggons disappear in the bog. The whole length was finished in like manner,
and it proved one of the best, and even the driest, parts of the road,
standing in very little need of repair for nearly twelve years after its
construction. The plan adopted by Metcalf, we need scarcely point out, was
precisely similar to that afterwards adopted by George Stephenson, under
like circumstances, when constructing the railway across Chat Moss. It
consisted simply in a large extension of the bearing surface, by which, in
fact, the road was made to float upon the surface of the bog; and the
ingenuity of the expedient proved the practical shrewdness and mother-wit of
the blind Metcalf, as it afterwards illustrated the promptitude as well as
skill of the clear-sighted George Stephenson.
Metcalf was upwards of
seventy years old before he left off road-making. He was still hale and
hearty, wonderfully active for so old a man, and always full of enterprise.
Occupation was absolutely necessary for his comfort, and even to the last
day of his life he could not bear to be idle. While engaged on road-making
in Cheshire, he brought his wife to Stockport for a time, and there she
died, after thirty-nine years of happy married life. One of Metcalf's
daughters became married to a person engaged in the cotton business at
Stockport, and, as that trade was then very brisk, Metcalf himself commenced
it in a small way. He began with six spinning-jennies and a carding-engine,
to which he afterwards added looms for weaving calicoes, jeans, and
velveteens. But trade was fickle, and finding that he could not sell his
yarns except at a loss, he made over his jennies to his son-in-law, and
again went on with his road-making. The last line which he constructed was
one of the most difficult he had everundertaken,-- that between Haslingden
and Accrington, with a branch road to Bury. Numerous canals being under
construction at the same time, employment was abundant and wages rose, so
that though he honourably fulfilled his contract, and was paid for it the
sum of 3500L., he found himself a loser of exactly 40L. after two years'
labour and anxiety. He completed the road in 1792, when he was seventy-five
years of age, after which he retired to his farm at Spofforth, near Wetherby,
where for some years longer he continued to do a little business in his old
line, buying and selling hay and standing wood, and superintending the
operations of his little farm, During the later years of his career he
occupied himself in dictating to an amanuensis an account of the incidents
in his remarkable life, and finally, in the year 1810, this strong-hearted
and resolute man --his life's work over--laid down his staff and peacefully
departed in the ninety-third year of his age; leaving behind him four
children, twenty grand-children, and ninety great grand-children.
Metcalf's house at Spofforth.
The roads constructed by
Metcalf and others had the effect of greatly improving the communications of
Yorkshire and Lancashire, and opening up those counties to the trade then
flowing into them from all directions. But the administration of the
highways and turnpikes being entirely local, their good or bad management
depending upon the public spirit and enterprise of the gentlemen of the
locality, it frequently happened that while the roads of one county were
exceedingly good, those of the adjoining county were altogether execrable.
Even in the immediate
vicinity of the metropolis the Surrey roads remained comparatively
unimproved. Those through the interior of Kent were wretched. When Mr.
Rennie, the engineer, was engaged in surveying the Weald with a view to the
cutting of a canal through it in 1802, he found the country almost destitute
of practicable roads, though so near to the metropolis on the one hand and
to the sea-coast on the other. The interior of the county was then
comparatively untraversed, except by bands of smugglers, who kept the
inhabitants in a state of constant terror. In an agricultural report on the
county of Northampton as late as the year 1813, it was stated that the only
way of getting along some of the main lines of road in rainy weather, was by
swimming!
In the neighbourhood of the
city of Lincoln the communications were little better, and there still
stands upon what is called Lincoln Heath--though a heath no longer--a
curious memorial of the past in the shape of Dunstan Pillar, a column
seventy feet high, erected about the middle of last century in the midst of
the then dreary, barren waste, for the purpose of serving as a mark to
wayfarers by day and a beacon to them by night.*[2]
Land Lighthouse on Lincoln Heath.
At that time the Heath was
not only uncultivated, but it was also unprovided with a road across it.
When the late Lady Robert Manners visited Lincoln from her residence at
Bloxholm, she was accustomed to send forward a groom to examine some track,
that on his return he might be able to report one that was practicable.
Travellers frequently lost themselves upon this heath. Thus a family,
returning from a ball at Lincoln, strayed from the track twice in one night,
and they were obliged to remain there until morning. All this is now
changed, and Lincoln Heath has become covered with excellent roads and
thriving farmsteads. "This Dunstan Pillar," says Mr. Pusey, in his review of
the agriculture of Lincolnshire, in 1843, "lighted up no longer time ago for
so singular a purpose, did appear to me a striking witness of the spirit of
industry which, in our own days, has reared the thriving homesteads around
it, and spread a mantle of teeming vegetation to its very base. And it was
certainly surprising to discover at once the finest farming I had ever seen
and the only land lighthouse ever raised.*[3] Now that the pillar has ceased
to cheer the wayfarer, it may serve as a beacon to encourage other
landowners in converting their dreary moors into similar scenes of thriving
industry."*[4] When the improvement of the high roads of the country fairly
set in, the progress made was very rapid. This was greatly stimulated by the
important inventions of tools, machines, and engines, made towards the close
of last century, the products of which--more especially of the steam-engine
and spinning-machine--so largely increased the wealth of the nation.
Manufactures, commerce, and shipping, made unprecedented strides; life
became more active; persons and commodities circulated more rapidly; every
improvement in the internal communications being followed by an increase of
ease, rapidity, and economy in locomotion. Turnpike and post roads were
speedily extended all over the country, and even the rugged mountain
districts of North Wales and the Scotch Highlands became as accessible as
any English county. The riding postman was superseded by the smartly
appointed mail-coach, performing its journeys with remarkable regularity at
the average speed of ten miles an hour. Slow stagecoaches gave place to fast
ones, splendidly horsed and "tooled," until travelling by road in England
was pronounced almost perfect.
But all this was not enough.
The roads and canals, numerous and perfect though they might be, were found
altogether inadequate to the accommodation of the traffic of the country,
which had increased, at a constantly accelerating ratio, with the increased
application of steam power to the purposes of productive industry. At length
steam itself was applied to remedy the inconveniences which it had caused;
the locomotive engine was invented, and travelling by railway became
generally adopted. The effect of these several improvements in the means of
locomotion, has been to greatly increase the public activity, and to promote
the general comfort and well-being. They have tended to bring the country
and the town much closer together; and, by annihilating distance as measured
by time, to make the whole kingdom as one great city. What the personal
blessings of improved communication have been, no one has described so well
as the witty and sensible Sydney Smith:--
"It is of some importance,"
he wrote, "at what period a man is born. A young man alive at this period
hardly knows to what improvement of human life he has been introduced; and I
would bring before his notice the changes which have taken place in England
since I began to breathe the breath of life, a period amounting to over
eighty years. Gas was unknown; I groped about the streets of London in the
all but utter darkness of a twinkling oil lamp, under the protection of
watchmen in their grand climacteric, and exposed to every species of
degradation and insult. I have been nine hours in sailing from Dover to
Calais, before the invention of steam. It took me nine hours to go from
Taunton to Bath, before the invention of railroads; and I now go in six
hours from Taunton to London! In going from Taunton to Bath, I suffered
between l0,000 and 12,000 severe contusions, before stone-breaking Macadam
was born.... As the basket of stage-coaches in which luggage was then
carried had no springs, your clothes were rubbed all to pieces; and, even in
the best society, one-third of the gentlemen at least were always drunk.....
I paid 15L. in a single year for repairs of carriage-springs on the pavement
of London; and I now glide without noise or fracture on wooden pavement. I
can walk, by the assistance of the police, from one end of London to the
other without molestation; or, if tired, get into a cheap and active cab,
instead of those cottages on wheels which the hackney coaches were at the
beginning of my life..... Whatever miseries I suffered, there was no post to
whisk my complaints for a single penny to the remotest comer of the empire;
and yet, in spite of all these privations, I lived on quietly, and am now
ashamed that I was not more discontented, and utterly surprised that all
these changes and inventions did not occur two centuries ago.
With the history of these
great improvements is also mixed up the story of human labour and genius,
and of the patience and perseverance displayed in carrying them out.
Probably one of the best illustrations of character in connection with the
development of the inventions of the last century, is to be found in the
life of Thomas Telford, the greatest and most scientific road-maker of his
day, to which we proceed to direct the attention of the reader.
Footnotes for Chapter VI.
*[1] 'Observations on
Blindness and on the Employment of the other Senses to supply the Loss of
Sight.' By Mr. Bew.--'Memoirs of the Literary and Philosophical Society of
Manchester,' vol.i., pp. 172-174. Paper read 17th April, 1782.
*[2] The pillar was erected
by Squire Dashwood in 1751; the lantern on its summit was regularly lighted
till 1788, and occasionally till 1808,, when it was thrown down and never
replaced. The Earl of Buckingham afterwards mounted a statue of George III.
on the top.
*[3] Since the appearance of
the first edition of this book, a correspondent has informed us that there
is another lighthouse within 24 miles of London, not unlike that on Lincoln
Heath. It is situated a little to the south-east of the Woking station of
the South-western Railway, and is popularly known as "Woking Monument." It
stands on the verge of Woking Heath, which is a continuation of the vast
tract of heath land which extends in one direction as far as Bagshot. The
tradition among the inhabitants is, that one of the kings of England was
wont to hunt in the neighbourhood, when a fire was lighted up in the beacon
to guide him in case he should be belated; but the probability is, that it
was erected like that on Lincoln Heath, for the guidance of ordinary
wayfarers at night.
*[4] 'Journal of the
Agricultural Society of England, 1843.' |
