be. 'Why this profanity, and why imprecations on our customers?' was the master's natural enquiry. 'Because,' answered the man, I am sure he'll curse the maker as soon as he puts it on, and so I made up my mind to be beforehand with him.'"[1]
With the exception of that fatal period in our history, when all the nation was mad on the subject of the French Revolution, Birmingham has always been liberal in politics. The people were especially earnest and zealous on the side of Parliament in its struggle against the tyranny of Charles I. In 1642, the King passed through the town just before the first battle of the civil war, at Edge-hill, and Clarendon gives this brief record of how the people received him, and his own opinion of their character in consequence:—"So that at Bromicham, a town so generally wicked, that it had risen upon small parties of the King's, and killed or taken them prisoners, and sent them to Coventry, declaring a more peremptory malice to his majesty than any other place."[2] The noble historian finds another opportunity to remark on the unspeakable wickedness of this ultra-Parliamentary town. Prince Rupert with his forces were ordered to Lichfield, and Clarendon tells us" In his way thither he was to march through Bromwicham, a town in Warwickshire beforementioned, and of as great a fame for hearty, wilful, affected disloyalty to the king, as any place in England."[3] The zeal of the inhabitants was, however, displayed in a much more useful and effective manner than rising upon small parties of the king's forces. The "smiths," of whom Leland and Camden found such a number in their respective visits, had increased. and now offered their skill for the service of the Parliament; and it is said by a contemporary that they made no fewer than 15,000 swords for the use of the army. As is well known, this zeal for the popular cause drew upon the town the vengeance of the fiery Prince Rupert. Early in 1643, that Royalist commander, who never came "but to conquer or to fall," was sent by
