The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45Ainsworth, William Harrison
History
The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Great Britain -- History -- George II, 1727-1760 -- Fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction
Constance assented, and they forthwith prepared for a walk--each
arraying herself in a black hood and scarf, and each taking a large
fan with her, though the necessity for such an article at that late
season of the year did not seem very obvious. But at the period of
which we treat, a woman, with any pretension to mode, had always a fan
dangling from her wrist.
Attended by Jemmy Dawson, who was looked upon as one of the beaux of
the town, they sallied forth, and passing the Exchange, where a couple
of porters standing in the doorway were the only persons to be seen,
they took their way through a narrow alley, called Acres Court, filled
with small shops, and leading from the back of the Exchange to the
square.
Usually, Acres Court was crowded, but no one was to be seen there now,
and the shops were shut.
Not many years previous to the date of our history, St. Ann's Square
was an open field--Acres Field being its designation.
The area was tolerably spacious--the houses surrounding it being some
three or four stories high, plain and formal in appearance, with small
windows, large doorways, and heavy wooden balustrades, meant to be
ornamental, at the top. Most of them were private residences.
On either side of the square was a row of young plane trees. At the
further end stood the church, of the architectural beauty of which we
cannot say much; but it had its admirers in those days, and perhaps
may have admirers in our own, for it still stands where it did. In
fact, the square retains a good deal of its original appearance.
Here the beau monde of the town was wont to congregate in the middle
of the last century--the ladies in their hoop petticoats, balloon-like
sacques, and high-heeled shoes, with powder in their locks, and
patches on their cheeks; and the gentlemen in laced coats of divers
colours, cocked hats, and periwigs, ruffles at the wrist, and
solitaires round the throat, sword by the side, and clouded cane in
hand. Here they met to criticise each other and talk scandal, in
imitation of the fine folks to be seen on the Mall at St. James's.
But none of these triflers appeared in St. Ann's Square when Miss
Rawcliffe and her companions entered it. Only one young lady, attended
by a couple of clergymen, could be descried pacing to and fro on the
broad pavement.
In this damsel Monica at once recognised Beppy Byrom, but she made no
remark on the subject to Constance, and stopped Jemmy, who was about
to blab.
Presently, Beppy turned and advanced towards them, and then Constance
could not fail to be struck by her good looks, and inquired who she
was?
"Can't you guess?" cried Monica.
"Is it Beppy Byrom?" said Constance, colouring.
Monica nodded. "What do you think of her?"
Before a reply could be made, Beppy came up, and an introduction took
place. Beppy and Constance scrutinised each other with a rapid glance.
But no fault could be detected on either side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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