Peterloo was the place selected for an open-air meeting on the 14th. Mr. C. J. S. Walker, the son of the man whose house had been attacked by the Tories of 1792, was called to the chair, and the venerable Robert Philips, a veteran of ’92, moved the first resolution. Mr. Elijah Dixon and Mr. Joseph Johnson, who had been imprisoned after Peterloo, were amongst the speakers. A town’s meeting was held in Salford, and another in Chorlton. Throughout the country the same sentiment prevailed, and it was said that the Duke of Wellington would try to form a Ministry that should deal with reform. The announcement was received with such a storm of indignation that even the victor of Waterloo was cowed. The King had to recall Earl Grey, but to avoid the creation of fresh peers a sufficient number of the Lords abstained from the divisions, and the Reform Bill became law on the 7th of June, 1832. The general joy found expression in a grand procession of the authorities and trade societies of Manchester and Salford on the 9th of August. In the long debates on the Reform Bill nothing is more remarkable than the distrust of the people felt by the opponents of reform. There was a prophetic instinct in Earl Grey’s reply to a sneer of the Earl of Dudley. “The Earl of Dudley,” said Earl Grey, “will live to learn a lesson from the statesmen of Birmingham and the philanthropists of Manchester.”
Folk-lore is a word introduced into the English language by the late Mr. W. J. Thorns to designate the superstitions, observances, sayings, traditions, and beliefs of the people; the collecting and systematic arrangement of which is now recognised as an important section of the science of comparative mythology. Folk-lore treats
“Of witching rhymes And evil spirits; of the death-bed call Of him who robb’d the widow, and devour’d The orphan’s portion; of unquiet souls Risen from the grave to ease the heavy guilt Of deeds in life concealed; of shapes that walk At dead of night, and clank their chains and wave The torch of Hell around the murderer’s bed.”
It takes cognisance of all the quaint notions connected with the varying seasons of the year and epochs of human life; of all the beliefs in futurity and supernatural agencies which are not sanctioned by religion; of the fireside story; of the milk-maid’s song and the mother’s lullaby; in short, of all the remains of ancient religion, history, science, and philosophy which have been preserved to the present day in the conservative memory and affection of the people. The old songs of the peasantry, the grandam’s fairy tales, the children’s rhymes, the auguries and omens of the ignorant and least educated portion of the community might seem at first sight to be unworthy of the serious attention of the antiquary. But experience has shown that these humble materials afford really important data for the student of mythology and anthropology. Customs, which once formed part of the ceremonial of creeds outworn, survive amongst European nations, as an evidence of their pre-Christian belief. The characters of the nursery tales are credited with the performance of deeds once attributed to mighty gods or heroes. The collation of these narratives enables us to remove some myths from the historic page. In a similar manner the examination of popular superstitions throws light upon the various systems of mythology. There is a great similarity noticeable in the folk-lore of different nations, even those which are most remote. Thus the legend narrated by Herodotus of Rhampsinitus is found to have been popular with the Norse children; and while this is the case with stories which do not appear to have any allegorical meaning, it is still more so with regard to those conceptions which we term myths. Each historic nation has emerged from a savage condition, more or less profound, and its folk-lore is merely fragmentary recollections of its past stages, often in the form of ceremonials dictated by principles no longer forming the ordinary rule of action, or even directly opposed to it. And as the ideas of savages are limited in number, and derived mainly from the contemplation of natural phenomena likely to strike each observer in the same manner, it ceases to be so great a matter of wonder that widely separated races of mankind should invent similar explanations to account for the wild or wonderful appearances which excited their awe and astonishment.