cobean Proclamation cross remained
at Salford until 1824. The Preston Cross, or rather obelisk,
consisting of a clustered Gothic column, thirty-one feet high,
standing on a lofty pedestal which rested on three steps, was taken
down by an act of vandalism in 1853. The Covell Cross at Lancaster
shared its fate, being destroyed in 1826 by the justices when they
purchased the house now used as the judges' lodgings. A few years ago
it was rebuilt as a memorial of the accession of King Edward VII.

[45] Report of the State of Lancashire in 1590 (Chetham Society,
Vol. XCVI, p. 5).

[46] _Ancient Crosses of Lancashire_, by Henry Taylor.

Individuals too, as well as corporations, have taken a hand in the
overthrow of crosses. There was a wretch named Wilkinson, vicar of
Goosnargh, Lancashire, who delighted in their destruction. He was a
zealous Protestant, and on account of his fame as a prophet of evil
his deeds were not interfered with by his neighbours. He used to
foretell the deaths of persons obnoxious to him, and unfortunately
several of his prophecies were fulfilled, and he earned the dreaded
character of a wizard. No one dared to prevent him, and with his own
hands he pulled down several of these venerable monuments. Some
drunken men in the early years of the nineteenth century pulled down
the old market cross at Rochdale. There was a cross on the
bowling-green at Whalley in the seventeenth century, the fall of which
is described by a cavalier, William Blundell, in 1642. When some
gentlemen came to use the bowling-green they found their game
interfered with by the fallen cross. A strong, powerful man was
induced to remove it. He reared it, and tried to take it away by
wresting it from edge to edge, but his foot slipped; down he fell, and
the cross falling upon him crushed him to death. A neighbour
immediately he heard the news was filled with apprehension of a
similar fate, and confessed that he and the deceased had thrown down
the cross. It was considered a dangerous act to remove a cross, though
the hope of discovering treasure beneath it often urged men to essay
the task. A farmer once removed an old boundary stone, thinking it
would make a good "buttery stone." But the results were dire. Pots and
pans, kettles and crockery placed upon it danced a clattering dance
the livelong night, and spilled their contents, disturbed the farmer's
rest, and worrited the family. The stone had to be conveyed back to
its for