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\NCEI 


IRAN 


'aUJIIVJ-: 
r\C.rAiicn 


THE  PITMAN'S  PAY, 


AND  OTHER  POEMS. 


THE 


PITMAN'S    PAY, 


AND  OTHER  POEMS. 


BY    THOMAS    WILSON. 


GATESHEAD : 
WILLIAM  DOUGLAS,  HIGH  STREET. 

CHARNLEY,  NEWCASTLE  ;    AND  SIMPKIN,  MARSHALL,  AND  CO., 

LONDON. 


M.DCCC.XLIII. 


PREFACE. 

NEWCASTLE  owes  every  thing  to  her  coal-mines. 
Coal  is  the  staple  article  of  her  trade — the  source 
of  her  wealth  and  the  foundation  of  her  greatness. 
The  coal  trade  has  paved  the  way  for  the  splendid 
creations  and  improvements  of  a  Grainger,  and 
for  the  astonishing  mechanism  of  a  STEPHENSON — 
the  one  having  turned  our  "  canny  town"  into  a 
"city  of  palaces,"  and  the  other  having  "moved 
the  world"  (at  least  its  population)  by  the  rapidity 
of  his  "  travellers." 

Besides,  the  coal  trade  has  not  only  been  the 
means  of  producing  a  highly  useful  and  hardy  race 
of  seamen,  for  the  protection  and  defence  of  our 
native  land,  but  of  conveying  cheerfulness  and  com- 
fort to  millions.  What  is  more  comfortable  than  an 
Englishman's  fireside,  or  more  cheerful  than  the 
brilliant  gas-light  which  enlightens  and  enlivens  the 
thoroughfares  of  our  towns  ? 

Coal  is  also  a  principal  agent  in  steain-navigation, 
which  is  now  fast  spreading  over  all  the  waters  of 


4   f  0*dtv 


VI  PREFACE. 


the  civilized  world,  and  accomplishing  by  sea  what 
locomotion  is  effecting  by  land  ;  and  it  may,  cer- 
tainly, be  asserted,  without  boasting,  that  no  coal 
surpasses  that  of  Newcastle   for  the  use  of  steam- 


engines. 


The  benefits  and  blessings  likely  to  accrue  to 
mankind  from  the  application  of  steam  to  travelling 
by  sea  and  land,  are  incalculable :  it  promises  as 
great  an  impulse  to  civilization  as  steam-power  has 
already  given  to  the  manufactures  and  trade  of  the 
empire. 

If,  then,  we  derive  such  important  advantages 
from  the  produce  of  our  coal-mines,  a  short  descrip- 
tion, surely,  of  the  customs  and  manners,  in  this 
populous  and  important  district,  of  the  producers, 
will  not  be  uninteresting.  Such  a  sketch  I  have 
attempted  in  the  "  Pitman's  Pay."  How  far  I 
have  succeeded,  the  reader  will  judge.  My  wish 
has  been  to  draw  a  faithful  picture ;  and,  after 
allowing  for  a  little  poetic  license,  I  hope  it  will  be 
pronounced  to  be  pretty  correct. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  mine  is 
a  tale  of  some  five-and-forty  years  ago — a  period 
since  which  many  and  important  changes  have  taken 
place  in  the  pitman's  labour,  tending  to  limit  the 
duration  as  well  as  lessen  the  severity  of  his  toil. 


PREFACE.  Vll 

Nothing  on  this  subject,  to  my  knowledge,';  has 
appeared,  since  the  publication  of  CHICKEN'S 
"Collier's  Wedding,"^  upwards  of  a  century 
ago  ;  and,  since  then,  the  pitman's  character  has 
undergone  considerable  amelioration.  The  progres- 
sive intellectual  improvement  of  all  classes  of  society 
has  had  its  due  effect  upon  him.  He  is  no  longer 
the  same  ignorant,  degraded  being  that  his  fore- 
fathers were — a  victim  to  the  worst  prejudices  and 
passions  of  our  nature.t 

This  important  change  may  be  attributed  to  the 
following  causes  :—  First,  the  establishment  of  Sun- 
day Schools  for  the  purpose  of  teaching  the  children 
to  read  ;  secondly,  the  general  diffusion  of  useful 

*  A  new  edition  of  this  poem,  with  emendations  and  corrections, 
was  undertaken  by  Mr.  William  Cail,  and  printed  by  Messrs. 
T.  &  J.  Hodgson," in  1829.  It  is  accompanied  by  many  interest' 
ing  facts  of  the  author  and  his  family,  as  well  as  several  notes  expla- 
natory of  the  text,  and  is  neatly  got  up,  but,  unfortunately,  has  never 
come  fully  before  the  public. 

f  In  illustration  of  the  outrageous  and  lawless  conduct  of  this 
class  of  men,  about  the  time  specified,  the  following  fact  may  be 
stated.  Whenever  they  considered  themselves  aggrieved,  they 
"  struck ;"  or,  in  the  language  of  that  day,  a  "  steek"  took  place. 
These  "steeks"  generally  originated  on  the  Wear;  and,  by  way  of 
enforcing  their  demands,  the  malecontents  immediately  "  laid  in"  all 
the  pits  in  the  district.  The  mode  of  proceeding  in  such  cases  was 
this : — The  men  with  whom  the  strike  commenced,  visited  all  the 
neighbouring  collieries;  and,  on  their  arrival  at  each  pit,  they  hung 
on  a  corf,  filled  with  stones,  at  the  same  time  hanging  on  the  clog. 
The  weight  of  the  corf  moved  the  gin ;  and  as  the  former  descended, 
the  latter  gained  velocity,  until  the  clog,  flying  out  in  the  air,  knocked 
away  the  supports  of  the  gin,  and  laid  it  on  its  side,  thus  rendering  it 
totally  unfit  for  use,  and  thereby  putting  a  stop  to  all  work  for  some 
time  to  come.  This  was  the  mode  then  generally  resorted  to,  for 
compelling  redress  of  grievances — a  practice  that  would  not  be  even 
thought  of  in  the  present  day. 


vi  N  PREFACE. 

knowledge  in  cheap  publications  ;  and  thirdly,  the 
introduction  of  Savings'  Banks ;  the  two  former 
having  been  more  especially  powerful  in  this  moral 
reformation — and  the  latter  having  not  been  without 
its  good  effects  in  producing  care  and  economy 
among  this  invaluable  class  of  men. 

To  show  how  much  has  been  effected  by  the 
Sunday  Schools,  not  only  in  the  amelioration  of  the 
manners,  but  in  the  general  appearance  of  the  pit- 
men, I  need  only  state,  that,  forty  years  ago,  it  was 
no  unusual  thing  to  see  whole  families  of  young 
men  spending  the  Sunday  in  gambling  and  idleness. 
Now,  on  the  contrary,  such  a  thing  is  rarely  to  be 
seen ;  for  in  passing  the  doors  of  neat  cottages,  we 
frequently  find  the  inmates  reading;  or,  if  absent,  they 
will  be  either  at  the  Methodist  chapel  or  a  prayer- 
meeting  ;  and  instead  of  appearing  in  the  very 
meanest  clothing,  and  not  unfrequently  in  rags,  we 
now  see  them,  not  only  clean  and  well  dressed,  but 
very  civil  and  very  orderly. 

I  cannot  suffer  this  opportunity  to  pass,  without 
noticing  the  praiseworthy  conduct  of  the  teachers  in 
the  Sunday  Schools  They  are,  generally,  men 
who  are  occupied  in  hard  labour  during  the  other 
days  of  the  week,  yet  who  cheerfully  give  up  a  great 
part  of  the  only  leisure  clay  they  have,  to  educate 
the  children  of  their  neighbours.     This  does  them 


PREFACE  IX 

infinite  credit  as  men  and  as  Christians ;  and  the 
fact  of  many  of  them  having  been  Sunday  scholars 
themselves,  says  more  for  the  utility  of  such  schools 
than  anything  I  can  advance.  I  sincerely  hope  the 
teachers  will  continue  their  useful  labours ;  for 
although  much  has  been  accomplished,  there  is  still 
much  to  be  done. 

In  sketching  the  character  of  a  pitman,  nothing 
brings  it  out  so  fully  as  the  "  pay-night,"  provided 
the  "  yel"  be  good  ;  but  the  likeness  must  be  fixed 
before  the  original  becomes  a  caricature  through  the 
potency  of  "  John  Barleycorn."  Here,  all  affairs, 
both  foreign  and  domestic,  are  fully  discussed  ;  and 
although  there  may  be  a  want  of  candour  and  impar- 
tiality in  the  debates,  they  are  never  deficient  in 
ardour  and  freedom  of  speech.  The  transactions  of 
the  past  fortnight  supply  the  speakers  plentifully 
with  matter  for  conversation.  The  number  of  corves 
"  laid"  or  "set  out" — the  difficulty  of  getting  down 
their  "top,"  or  the  "  woodiness"  of  the  "  kirving" — 
the  corves  being  too  big,  and  the  prices  too  small — 
the  merits  of  this  man  as  a  "  hewer,"  and  of  that  as 
a  "  putter" — are  all  topics  which  occupy  the  serious 
attention  of  the  disputants ;  who,  however,  at  the 
heel  of  the  evening,  often  diverge  into  matter  as 
miscellaneous  as  the  contents  of  a  newspaper. 

In  the  "  olden  time,"  the  early  years  of  a  pitman's 


X  PREFACE. 

life — that  is,  from  the  time  of  his  taking  his  "  seat" 
behind  the  "door,"  until  he  took  up  the  "picks"  to 
"  hew" — or,  in  other  words,  from  his  being  a  "  trap- 
per" at  six  years  of  age,  until  he  became  a  "  hewer" 
at  about  twenty — were  nearly  all  spent  "  belaw," 
with  frequently  only  very  short  intervals  for  rest. 
This  renders  it  necessary  to  have  frequent  reference 
to  the  proceedings  under-ground,  and  to  describe 
them  in  the  technical  language  of  the  place,  which 
will,  I  fear,  render  that  part  of  my  description  less 
interesting  to  the  general  reader ;  but  the  "  lads 
belaw,"  and  those  immediately  connected  with  the 
"  diamond"  trade,  will  in  this  respect  feel  no  diffi- 
culty, as  I  flatter  myself  they  at  least  will  acknow- 
ledge my  details  to  be  pretty  accurate. 

The  youthful  portion  of  a  pitman's  life,  in  those 
days,  was  passed  in  the  most  galling  slavery — 
eighteen  or  nineteen  hours  a  day,  for  weeks  together, 
being  spent  in  almost  insupportable  drudgery.  The 
putters  of  the  present  day  would  not  be  able  to  com- 
prehend how  such  incessant  toil  could  be  endured. 
It  is  fortunate  for  the  latter,  that  the  "  new  light" 
which  produced  "metal  wheels"  and  "plates"  made 
its  appearance  before  their  time,  and  that  they  are 
not  compelled,  like  their  predecessors,  to  earn  their 
bread  in  the  way  most  approved  by  the  "  wisdom  of 
their  ancestors."  This  wisdom,  of  which  we  hear 
so  much,  may  be  usefully  applied  to  some  things, 


PREFACE.  XI 


even  of  the  present  day,  but  "  putting"  is  certainly 
not  of  the  number  ;  nor  do  I  think  colliery  matters 
generally  would  be  at  all  improved,  by  forsaking  the 
evidence  of  our  senses,  and  taking  our  ancestors  for 
our  guide. 

The  application  of  gunpowder  has  also  been  a 
great  improvement  in  the  labour  of  "hewing." 
Formerly,  after  a  man  had  got  ready  his  "  top"  or 
"  jud,"  as  they  call  it,  he  would  often  have  to  drive 
the  "  wedges"  for  an  hour  or  two  before  he  could 
"  get  her  down."  But  now,  instead  of  so  distressing 
an  exertion,  a  little  powder  blows  the  whole  down 
at  once.  Tt  is  strange  that  powder  was  not  applied 
sooner  to  coal:  it  had  long  before  been  used  for 
blasting  stone.  These  two  improvements  in  "put- 
ting" and  "  hewing,"  have  made  a  complete  revolu- 
tion in  underground  affairs,  and  made  that  labour 
tolerable  which  was  formerly  almost  beyond  human 
endurance. 

At  the  age  of  twenty,  when  a  "pitman"  became 
a  "hewer,"  his  labour,  though  still  severe,  was 
very  much  shortened.  Instead  of  being  sixteen  or 
eighteen  hours,  his  drudgery  was  reduced  to  eight 
or  ten.  He  then  got  time  to  look  around  him  in 
daylight,  and  form  such  connections  as  made  the 
"  weal  or  woe"  of  his  future  life.  In  short,  he  soon 
got  married — the  most  important  step  he  had   yet 


Xll  PREFACE. 

taken  ;  for  what  can  be  more  important  to  any  man, 
but  more  especially  to  a  poor  pitman,  than  the  choice 
he  makes  of  a  wife  ?  On  this  essentially  depends 
his  own  comfort,  as  well  as  that  of  his  family.  The 
wife's  character  may  be  known  by  the  children's 
appearance.  If  frugal,  industrious,  and  orderly, 
both  he  and  they  will  be  found  clean,  cheerful,  and 
happy  :  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  has  had  the  misfortune 
to  unite  himself  with  an  extravagant,  worthless 
woman,  he  will,  in  all  probability,  be  drunken  and 
careless,  his  children  ragged  and  dirty,  with  poverty 
and  misery  for  their  common  lot. 

After  this,  the  birth  of  the  first-born  child  or 
children  was  most  important ;  for  on  this  event  often 
depended  not  only  the  amelioration  of  the  pitman's 
own  condition,  but  the  means  of  supporting  his  family. 
If  the  offspring  proved  girls, *  they  were  considered 
burdensome,  being  unable  to  contribute  to  their  own 
maintenance,  until  far  advanced  in  age  ;  but  if  boys, 
they  obtained  employment  at  the  age  of  six  or  seven, 


*  Previous  to  the  period  I  am  describing,  it  was  customary  to  send 
girls  down  the  coal-pits ;  but  that  disgraceful  practice  ceased  in  this 
neighbourhood  nearly  sixty  years  ago.  The  custom  was  more  preva- 
lent on  the  Wear  than  on  the  Tyne.  Here,  again,  has  the  "march 
of  intellect,"  which,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  will  ultimately  bring  a 
"  creep"  upon  society,  superseded  the  "  wisdom  of  our  ancestors," 
and  rescued  the  "  pitman's  daughter"  from  the  debasing  slavery  ol 
descending  into  a  coal-pit.  It  will  be  in  the  recollection  of  several 
yet  living,  that,  at  a  very  tender  age,  female  children  were  put  to 
such  drudgery,  and  exposed  to  all  the  vice  and  indecency  of  which  it 
was  the  parent.  What  kind  of  wives  and  mothers,  girls  brought  up 
in  such  a  school  would  make,  may  be  easily  imagined. 


PREFACE.  Xlll 

as  "  trappers,"  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  se- 
cured to  the  father  a  situation  of  comparative  ease. 
This  arose  from  the  great  demand  that  always 
existed  for  boys  as  "  drivers"  and  "  putters." 

At  the  "  bindings,"  nothing  was  more  common 
than  a  man,  who  had  a  tram  or  two  of  lads,  getting 
himself  placed  on  the  list  of  "  shifters"  or  "  off- 
handed men" — a  benefit  duly  appreciated  and  eagerly 
sought  after  by  every  pitman  who  earned  his  living 
at  the  "coal- wall." 

Among  the  many  other  changes  that  time  has 
produced  in  the  domestic  habits  of  tbis  useful  class 
of  people,  none  are  more  conspicuous  than  those  we 
see  in  their  weddings  and  christenings.  Formerly, 
forty  or  fifty  people  attended  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom to  church,  with  "bride  favours"  at  their 
breasts,  accompanied  by  all  the  fiddlers  in  the  vil- 
lage. Every  musket  and  pistol  was  also  laid  under 
contribution,  to  salute  the  happy  pair,  both  on  their 
setting  out  and  their  return,  when  bride-cake  in 
abundance  was  thrown  over  their  heads.  All  this 
parade  and  publicity  are  now  almost  entirely  done 
away ;  and  this  most  important  act  in  a  man's  life 
is  gone  about  so  quietiy,  that  the  neighbourhood  is 
often  ignorant  of  its  occurrence.  Something  similar 
has  taken  place  in  christenings.  Formerly,  the 
pitman's  child  was  taken  to  the  church  in  the  fore- 


XIV  PREPACK 

noon,  accompanied  by  a  large  party  of  friends,  who 
returned  (after  "  getting  up  the  steam"  a  little  at 
the  public  house  nearest  the  church-gates)  to  a  hot 
and  substantial  dinner,  followed  by  both  tea  and 
supper  : — now,  this  ceremony  is  generally  deferred 
until  the  afternoon,  and  is  attended  by  the  sponsors 
only,  who  return  to — "  a  cup  of  tea." 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  changes  which  time  has  pro- 
duced in  the  habits  of  a  most  laborious  and  valuable 
class  of  men,  whose  toils  and  cares  I  have  attempted 
to  describe. 

The  longer  pieces  contained  in  the  present  volume, 
appeared  in  various  periodicals  at  the  time  they 
were  written,  but  have  not  before  been  published  in 
a  collected  form.  The  "  Pitman's  Pay"  was  first 
inserted  in  Mitchell's  Magazine  for  the  years  1826, 
1828,  and  1830,  and  was  immediately  afterwards 
republished  by  Mr.  GEORGE  WATSON,  of  Gates- 
head ;  but  the  reprint  was  an  incorrect  edition,  and 
has  been  out  of  print  for  some  time. 

The  "  Stanzas  on  the  Intended  New  Line  of 
Road,"  appeared  first  in  the  Tyne  Mercury  of  1824, 
and  were  afterwards  neatly  published,  with  notes, 
by  Mr.  JOHN  SYKES,  of  Newcastle. 

"  The  Oiling  of  Dicky's  Wig"  appeared  first  in 


PREFACE.  XV 


the  Tyne  Mercury  of  1826.  Mr.  Mitchell  struck 
off  a  few  copies  of  each  of  these  pieces,  but  they 
have  Ions:  since  been  exhausted. 


xo 


Notes,  where  found  necessary,  have  now  been 
given,  and  where  those  of  Mr.  Sykes  have  been 
adopted,  they  have  his  name  annexed  to  them. 

Several  additions  have  been  made  to  each  of  the 
above  pieces,  and  the  whole  have  been  corrected 
and  revised. 

Several  of  the  smaller  pieces  first  appeared  in  the 
Tyne  Mercury. 

I  take  this  opportunity  of  returning  my  thanks  to 
Mr.  JOHN  Bell,  of  Gateshead,  and  Mr.  THOMAS 
Belt,,  of  Newcastle,  for  much  valuable  information 
in  connection  with  Gateshead  Fell. 


Fell  House,  June,  1843. 


GLOSSARY. 


A. 


A',  all. 

Aboot,  about. 

Abuin,  above. 

Addin',  adding. 

A-field  (to  set),  to  set  off  to  the  pit. 

Afore,  before. 

Aglee,  awry. 

Agyen,  again. 

Agyen'd,  against  it. 

Ahint,  behind. 

Aiblins,  perhaps. 

Airm,  arm. 

Airt,  art. 

Aix,  axe. 

Alaug,  along. 

Alyen,  alone. 

Amang,  among. 


An',  and. 
Anklets,  ancles. 
Aren't,  are  not. 
Atwee,  in  two. 
Atween,  between. 
Aw,/. 

A'ways,  always. 
Awantin',  wanting. 
Awd,  old. 
Awdisb,  oldish. 
Aw'd,  /  had. 
Aw'll,  /  will. 
Awn,  own. 
Aw've,  /  have. 
Ax,  ask. 
Axin',  asking. 
Ayont,  beyond. 


B. 


Babby,  baby. 

Back  or  knotve,  partings  in  the 

coal. 
Backey,  tobacco. 
Baggy-tyel,  bagatelle. 
Bairn,  child. 
Bait-poko,  a  bag  in  which  a  pit. 

1ml  carries  his  provisions. 


Ballant,  ballad. 
Bang,  rush. 
Bang,  surpass,  excel. 
Bangin',  moving  quickly. 
Bangin',  large  andfulL 
Barish,  scanty. 

Bam-styen,  roof  of  the  mine  at 
the  entrance  of  the  workings. 


XVU1 


GLOSSARY. 


Barrlod,  buried. 

Barries,  buries. 

Barrow-way,  tram-way. 

Barry,  bury. 

Beastie,  diminutive  of  beast. 

Beat,  excel. 

Becam',  became. 

Beers,  bears. 

Begock,  a  term  of  exclamation. 

Bern',  being. 

Belaw,  below. 

Bella,  Isabella. 

Belly-timiuer,/oO(/. 

Bettermer,  rather  better. 

Bide,  bear. 

Bicker,  to  hasten. 

Biel,  a  place  of  shelter. 

Bilk,  to  cheat. 

Bits  and  brats,  food  and  raiment. 

Bizzy,  busy. 

Blabbin'-jaw,  inoffensive  talk. 

Blackgairded,  blackguarded. 

Blair'd,  cried. 

Blashy,  thin,  poor. 

Blast  o'  backey,  a  pipe  of  tobacco. 

Blate,  shy. 

Blayteness,  shyness. 

Blaw,  blow. 

Blawn,  blown. 

Blawin',  blowing. 

Blaw-out,  a  set  in  at  drinking. 

Blear-e'ed,  sore-eyed. 

Blether,  bladder,  purse. 

Blin',  blind. 

Bliss,  bless. 

Bob  or  Bobby,  Robert. 


Boby,  booby. 

Boded,  threatened. 

Bogie,  a  low  carriage  with  four 
wheels. 

Bogle,  a  ghost. 

Bonny,  pretty. 

Bool'd,  bowled. 

Boondless,  boundless. 

Boon's,  bounds. 

Boot,  about. 

Booze,  to  drink  lavishly. 

Bord,  the  space  allotted  generally 
to  one  man  to  work  in,  in  a 
colliery. 

Bother,  to  trouble. 

Boun's,  bounds. 

Bout,  a  recurring  event. 

Brack,  broke. 

Brake,  a  kind  of  regulator. 

Bran  new,  quite  new. 

Branks,  an  instrument  formerly 
kept  in  the  Mayor's  Chamber, 
Newcastle,  for  the  punishment  of 
"  chiding  and  scolding  women." 

Breed,  bread. 

Breek,  break. 

Breekin',  breaking. 

B  reeks,  breeches. 

Breet,  bright. 

Breeth,  breath. 

Brick,  to  break. 

Brig,  bridge. 

Brock,  a  badger. 

Brocken,  broken. 

Browt,  brought. 

Buffin',  labouring. 


GLOSSARY 


XIX 


Buik  or  buick,  book. 

Bummed,  hurried. 

Bummer,  a  carriage  that  sounds 

from  a  distance  on  the  road. 
Bummin',  a  whirring  noise  arising 

from  quick  motion. 
Bun,  bound. 
Burd,  bird. 


Buss,  to  dress. 

Byen,  bone. 

Byen- grubbers,  bone  searchers. 

Byet,  work  not  finished. 

Byetb,  both. 

Byre,  a  cowhouse. 

Byson,  a  shame,  scandal. 

Byutes,  boots. 


Cabbish,  to  cabbage. 

Caff,  chaff. 

Cairder,  carder. 

Cairds,  cards. 

Cairts,  carts. 

Callant,  a  young  boy. 

Caller,  fresh,  cool.  A  person  who 
goes  round  at  a  certain  hour  in 
the  night,  to  let  the  pitmen  know 
it  is  time  to  go  to  work. 

Callin',  publishing  the  banns. 

Callin'- course,  the  time  at  which 
pitmen  are  called  to  go  to  work. 

Cam,  came. 

Cannel,  candle. 

Cannut,  cannot. 

Canny,  good,  kind,  mild,  affec- 
tionate. 

Cantrip, '/  charm  or  incantation. 

Canty,  lively,  cheerful. 

Casions,  occasions. 

Cassel,  castle. 

Cassen,  cast  off'. 

Casses,  casts. 

Cawd  or  caud,  cold. 

Cawdpies,  any  accident  happening 
to  the  tram  or  carriage. 


Cawdrife,  a  shivering  sensation. 

Cauldness,  coldness. 

Cbare,  a  narrow  lane  or  alley. 

Cheap-Johns,  economists. 

Chep,  chap. 

Chorch,  church. 

Chow,  a  quid  of  tobacco. 

Chuck,  a  hearty  fellow. 

Chubby  -  cheek'd,    rosy,    plump - 

cheek'd. 
Claes,  clothes. 
Claith,  cloth. 
Clap  on,  to  put  on. 
Clapp'd,  to  set  upon. 
Clappers,  tongues. 
Clapt,  to  set  upon,  to  pat. 
Claverin',  climbing. 
Clay,  a  substance  used  by  pitmen 

as  a  substitute  for  candlesticks. 
C'leed,  to  clothe. 
Click,  to  snatch  hastily. 
Cliver,  clever. 
Clootie,  an  old  name  for  the  Devil, 

derived  from  Chile,  the  half  of 

the   hoof  of  any  cloven-footed 

animal. 
Cloots,  strikes  with  the  hands. 


XX 


GLOSSARY. 


Clout,  a  cuff,  a  blow. 

Clubby-skaw,  a  youthful  game 
played  by  two  parties  with  a 
globular  piece  of  wood,  and  a 
stick  curved  at  one  end  to  corre- 
spond with  the  ball. 

Coaly,  the  coal  trade. 

Coasters,  coasting  vessels. 

Cobby,  hearty,  lively. 

Cock'd,  tipsy. 

Coffin-kist,  a  hearse. 

Comfortable,  a  covered  boat. 

Compleen,  complain. 

Cooen,  disheartening. 

Cooncil,  council- 

Coonterfittin',  counterfeiting. 

Coontless,  countless. 

Coonts,  accounts. 

Coortin',  courting. 

Coorse,  course. 

Corf,  a  basket  for  bringing  coals 
out  of  the  pit. 

Corl,  to  curl. 

Corls,  curls. 

Corp,  corpse. 

Corsed,  cursed. 

Corses,  curses. 

Cottrils,  cash,  money. 

Cowpin,  the  last  word. 

Cowpt,  overturned. 


Crack,  </<e  chief,  the  most  celebrated, 
chat,  conversation. 

Crack,  in  a  short  space  of  time. 

Craw,  crow. 

Creatur,  creature. 

Creep,  a  state  of  the  mine  produced 
by  an  insufficiency  of  coal  left  to 
support  the  roof,  and  which  often 
forces  the  top  and  bottom  of  the 
mine  together,  and  renders  the 
pit  unfit  for  further  use. 

Cribb'd,  lined. 

Croods,  crowds. 

Crouse,  brisk,  lively. 

Crowdy,  oatmeal  and  hot  water 
mixed  together. 

Crums,  crumbs. 

Cruick  thy  hougb,  sit  down. 

Cuckoo  mornin',  a  holiday  on 
hearing  the  cuckoo  for  the  first 
time. 

Cuddy,  donkey,  Cuthbert. 

Cuddy  band,  the  bray  of  asses. 

Cuick,  cook. 

Cuil,  cool. 

Cull,  a  stupid  fellow. 

Cut-porse,  see  note  3\,page  107- 

{jutter'd,  fondled. 

Cuttie,  a  short  tobacco  pipe. 


D. 


Dab,  a  clever  fellow  at  reading. 
Daft,  stupid,  thoughtless. 
Danderin,  sauntering. 
Dandy,  the  very  thing. 
Dar,  dare. 


Darg,  a  day's  work. 
De,  do. 

Deddy,  father. 
Dee,  die. 
Deed,  dead. 


GLOSSARY. 


XXI 


Deedly,  deadly. 

Deein',  dying. 

Deetb,  death. 

Deevil,  Devil. 

Demented,  frantic,  distracted. 

Desarves,  deserves. 

Designing  designing. 

Dick,  Richard. 

Diddle,  to  trick. 

Didn't,  did  not. 

Dimond  (black  diamond),  coal. 

Dinnet,  do  not. 

Dinn't,  do  not. 

Dirdurn,  noise,  confusion. 

Dirl,  to  vibrate. 

Dish'd   and  duin   up,  completely 

fuddled. 
Divots,  turf  or  sods. 
Diz,  does. 
Dizn't,  does  not. 
Dominie,  a  schoolmaster. 
Doon,  down. 
Doot  or  doobt,  doubt. 
Dootin',  doubting. 


Eas'd,  coaxed,  deprived. 
Eastren,  eastern. 
E'e,  eye. 
Een,  eyes. 
Efter,  after. 


Dook,  duck. 

Double-chuckers,  tic  ins 

Dowly,  miserable. 

Dozzen'd,  spiritless,  withered. 

Dreed,  dread. 

Dreedful,  dreadful. 

Dreedin'.  dreading. 

Driver,  a  boy  who  has  charge  of 

a  horse  in  the  pit. 
Droon,  drown. 
Drouth,  thirst. 
Drouthy,  thirsty. 
Druvy,  dirty,  muddy. 
Dry,  thirsty. 
Duds,  working  clothes. 
Duffit,  sod. 
Duin,  done. 

Dulbert,  a  dull,  stupid  fellow. 
Dummy,  a  tram. 
Durt,  dirt. 
Durty,  dirty. 
Dyel,  deal. 
Dyem,  dame. 


E. 


Efternuin,  afternoon. 

Eb,  a  word  of  exclamation. 

Eneugh, enough. 

Ettle,  to  contrive. 

Ettled,  arranged  or  contrived. 


Fa',/«//, 
Fae,/oe. 
Fa.' en,  fallen. 

Faither,  father. 


Failheiless,  fatherless. 
Famish,  famous. 
Fand,  found. 
Fash,  to  trouble,  to  tease. 


XX11 


GLOSSARY. 


Faw,  an  itinerant  tinker,  a  travel- 
ling besom-maker,  mugger,  Sc. 

Feckless,  we ak,  feeble. 

Fend,  a  livelihood. 

Fended,  being  able  to  earn  a  sub- 
sistence. 

Fettle,  order,  to  gel  ready. 

Fin',  find. 

Figurs,  figures. 

Fishin',  seeking. 

Fitter,  the  vendor  or  loader. 

Fittin',  fitting,  the  selling  or  load- 
ing of  coals. 

Fippence,jfe  epence. 

Fixtors,  fixtures. 

Fiz,  to  make  a  hissing  noise. 

Flantin',  flaunting. 

Viang, flung. 

Flareup,  a  squabble. 

Flay,  a  fright,  to  frighten. 

Flay'd,  afraid. 

Flee,  to  fly. 

Floonder,  founder. 


Floor'd,  ruined. 

Flowen,  flown. 

Flunky,  a  livery  servant. 

Fogie,  a  person  advanced  in  life, 

an  infirm  man. 
Fore,  before. 
Fortun,  fortune. 
Fouth,  abundance,  plenty. 
Fowt,  fought. 
Fr&e,  from. 
Freead,  friend. 
Freet,  fret. 
Freighten,  frigh  I  en. 
Frev,  from. 
Frien',  friend. 
Frinds,  friends. 
Frindship,  friendship. 
Fuddled,  tipsy. 
Fuil,  fool. 

Funny,  sportive,  amusing. 
Fvast,jirst. 
Fyece,  face. 
Fyell,  fail. 


G. 


Ga',  gave. 

Gabblin',  talking,  chattering. 

Gaird,  guard. 

Galore,  plenty,  abundance. 

Gamlers,  gamblers. 

Gan,  go. 

Gannin',  going. 


Gars,  makes. 
Gat,  got. 

Gawin  or  gaun,  going. 
Gaudy- day,  a  holiday. 
Geer  (set  o'  geer),  pitmen's  work- 
ing tools. 
Geer,  knives  and  forks,  wealth. 


Gannin'  te  pot,  going  to  decay  or     Geordy,  George. 

ruin.  Geyzen'd,  parched  with  thirst. 

Gar,  to  make.  Gie,  give. 

Gar'd,  made.  Gied,  give  it. 


GLOSSARY. 


XX111 


Giein,  giving. 

Giggin',  travelling  bg  gig. 

Gimcranks,  gimcracks,  a  light  or 

novel  sort  of  vehicle. 
Ginny,  guinea. 
Girn,  grin. 
Gissy,  a  pig. 
Gizen,  parched. 
Glent,  glance. 
Gleg,  quick,  clever. 
Gliff,  glimpse. 
Glower,  to  stare. 
Glumpin'.  sulking. 
Glynrin',  looking  slilg. 
Gob,  the  mouth. 
Gobbin',  chattering. 
Gobby,  chatty. 


Goon,  gown. 

Goot,  gout. 

Goulden,  golden. 

Gowd-i'-gowpens, gold  by  handsful. 

Gowldin,  golden. 

Grab,  to  seize. 

Gran,  grand. 

Gran'niother,  grandmother, 

Gree,  agree. 

Greet,  great. 

Greeter,  greater. 

Grey  ben,  stone  bottle. 

Grog,  spirits  mixed  with  water. 

Grundin',  grinding. 

Gude,  good. 

Gyen,  gone. 

Gyetsbed,  Gateshead. 


Ha',  hall 
Ha'd,  hold. 
Ha'e,  have. 
Hae'd,  have  it. 
Haffit,  the  side  of  the  head. 
Hairmless,  harmless. 
Half  a   tram,  one   of  two    that 
manage  a  tram. 


Haine,  home. 
Hammer,  to  labour. 
Hammer'd,  stammered. 
Hand,  writing. 
Harlikin,  harlequin. 
Haud,  stop. 
Hee,  high. 
Heed,  head. 


Half  marrow,  one  of  two  bogs  who  Heedgeer,  cap,  head  dress. 

manage  a  tram,  of  about  equal  Heedsman,  headsman,  or  the  elder. 

age.  Heedwis-end,  headway,  passages 
Half-nowt,  half-price.  that  lead  to  the  crane  or  shaft. 

Half- work,  when  the  day's  work  is  Heeven,  heaven. 

half  over.  Hersel',  herself. 

Half-shoon,  old  shoes  with  the  toes  Het,  hot. 

cut  off.  Hettle,  hasty. 

Hallion,  a  term  of  reproach.  Hev,  have. 


XXIV 


GLOSSARY. 


Hevin',  having. 

Hewer,  a  person  who  works  coals. 

Hewing,  the  pitman's  occupation 
of  working  the  coal,  with  a  tool 
called  a  pick. 

Hez,  has. 

Hick'ry,  ill  tempered. 

High  main,  the  best  seam  of  coal 
on  the  Tyne. 

Hingin'  on,  hanging  on,  the  time 
the  pit  begins  to  draw  coals. 

Hings,  hangs. 

Hin'most.  hindmost. 

Hinnies,  the  plural  ofhinny. 

Hinny.  a  favourite  term  of  endear- 
ment, a  corruption  of  honey. 

Hirpled,  walking  lamely. 

His-sel',  hissell,  himself. 

Hobby,  any  favourite  subject. 

Hoggers,  stockings  with  the  feet 
cutoff. 

Holey,  full  of  holes. 

Hoo,  how. 


Hoolet  een,  owlet  eyes. 

Hoose,  house. 

Hooseless,  houseless. 

Homes,  hurries. 

Horry-scorry,  violent  hurry. 

Hout,  an  exclamation  of  disappro- 
bation or  dissent. 

Howdy,  a  midwife. 

Howdy-maw,  the  conclusion  of  the 
day's  labour,  the  last  corf. 

Howiver,  however. 

How  way,  come  away. 

Hugger-mugger,  shabby,  private. 

Humm'd  and  haw'd,  hesitated. 

Hutch,  a  chest  for  the  town's  trea- 
sury. 

Huz,  us. 

Hyel,  whole. 

Hyem,  home. 

Hyemly,  homely. 

Eyem-sp\xa,home-spuH,or  homely. 

Hyest,  haste 


V,  in. 

Ill-throven,  ill-thriven. 

Inte,  into. 

Intiv,  into. 

I 'stead,  instead. 


Itsel,  itself. 
Iv,  ive,  in. 
Ivor,  ever. 

Iverlastin',  everlasting. 
Iv'ry,  every. 


Jaw,  to  chatter,  noisy  speech.  Jenkin,drivi?ig  a  "  board"  within 
Jawin',  chattering.  a  pillar  of  coal. 

Jay-legg'd,  small  or  feeble  in  the  Jiffy,  an  instant. 

tegs-  Joggle,  to  shake. 


GLOSSARY. 


XXV 


Jotney, journey. 

Jouk,  to  stoop  down  lo  avoid  a 
blow. 

Kelter,  riches. 

Ken,  know. 

Keek,  to  peep,  to  look  slily . 

Keekin',  prying. 

Kirsten'd,  christened. 

Kirve,  to  undermine  the  coal. 

Kirvens  and  nickens,  the  prepa- 
ratory operations  for  bringing 
down  the  jud  or  top,  and  which 
produce  only  small  coal. 

Kit,  a  cobbler's  stool  and  tools. 

Kith,  acquaintance,  kindred. 


K. 


Jud,  a  piece  of  coal  ready  for 
taking  down,  either  by  wedges 
or  poivder. 

Kittle,  ticklish  or  difficult. 
Kittlens,  kittens. 

Kitty,  a  lock-up,  a  house  of  correc- 
tion. 
Kizzen'd,  parched.  ■ 
Knawn,  known. 
Knawin',  knowing. 
Knaws,  knotvs. 
Kye,  cows. 
Kyek,  cake. 
Kyel,  broth. 
Kyevel,  lot. 


Laid-in,  when  a  pit  ceases  working, 

death. 
Laim,  to  learn. 
Lairnt,  learnt. 
Lairks,  larks. 
Lakewake,</te  watching  of  a  corpse 

previous  to  interment. 
Lang,  long. 
Langer,  longer. 

Lang-heeded,  long-headed,  clever. 
Lang-last,  at  length. 
Lang-syners, peoplewho  lived  long 

ago. 
Lang-quarter'd,  long-quartered. 
Lantren,  lantern. 
Lap,  jumped. 
Lapell'd,  lapetted  on  the  breast  of 

the  coat. 


Lare,  learning. 

Lat,  lath. 

Law,  low. 

Leather-plaiter,  a  kind  af  sorry 

hack  horse. 
Lee,  lie. 
Leein',  lying. 
Leet,  light. 
Leetly,  lightly. 
Leet-ship,  a  ship  not  loaded. 
Leeten,  lighten. 
Leeve,  live. 
Leevin',  living, 
Leev'd,  lived. 
Len,  lend. 
Lether,  ladder. 
Linties,  linnets. 
Lit,  lighted. 


XXVI 


GLOSSARY. 


Lippen,  /c  depend  up<m. 

Lonuin,  lane. 

Lop,  a  flea. 

Lord  Size,  the  judge  at  the  assizes. 

Lots  o'  brass,  large  sums  of  money. 
Loup,  to  leap,  to  jump. 
Lours,  looks  gloom  Hi/. 
Love-begot,  illegitimate  child. 
Low,  light  or  flame. 
Low-rope,  a  piece  of  rope  lighted 

at  one  end. 
Lowse,  loose. 
Lowsenin',  loosening. 


Lugs,  ears. 
Luik,  look. 

Luik'd,  looked. 
Luikin',  looking. 
Lunnen,  London. 
Lyoc'd  tea,  tea  mixed  with  spirits. 
Lyeces,  slay  laces. 
Lyet,  late. 
Lyeth,  loath. 
Lyem,  lame. 
Lyin',  lying. 

Lyin'-in,  the  birth  of  a   child,  a 
confinement. 


M. 


Mair,  more. 

Maiter,  matter. 

Maister,  master. 

Mally,  Mary. 

Mammy,  mother. 

Manadge,  see  note  11,  j>.  20. 

Mang,  among. 

Marrow,  a  partner,  a  companion. 

Maut,  malt. 

Maw,  my. 

Mawks,  maggots. 

Mawsel',  myself. 

Mawvin's  yett,  Melvin's  gate. 

Measur,  measure. 

Mebby,  may  he,  perhaps. 

Meet,  might. 

Meetin's,  midway  down  the  pit,  or 
where  the  full  and  empty  corves 
or  baskets  pass  each  other :  places 
of  worship. 

Mell,  mall. 


Mense,  to  grace,  to  decorate. 
Mickle,  much. 
Mill'd,  tipsy. 
Mind,  remind,  remember. 
Minny,  mother. 
Mony,  many. 
Moont,  mount. 
Moontebanks,  mountebanks. 
Moot,  moult. 

Moungin',  grumbling,  complain- 
ing. 
Mounseer,  Monsieur. 
Muck,  dirt,  filth. 

Muds,  small  nails  used  by  cobblers. 
Muin,  moon. 
Muinny,  moon. 
Mun,  must. 
Murtb,  mirth. 
Murry,  merry. 

Muzzy,  half  stupid  with  drink. 
Myed,  made. 


GLOSSARY. 


XXVI I 


Myek,  make. 
Myekin',  making. 
Myel,  meal. 


N. 


Na,  not. 

Nae,  not. 

Naggy,  touchy,  irritable. 

Nappy,  ale. 

Narrow-working,    headway   in    a 

coal-pit. 
Narvish,  nervous. 
Natur,  nature. 
Ne,  no. 
Nebs,  mouths. 
Neet,  night. 
Neist,  next. 
Nell  or  Nelly,  Ellen. 
Nell-kneed,  in-kneed. 
Neuk  or  nuick,  chimney  nook. 
Nibor,  neighbour. 
Nick,  to  cut  the  coal  at  each  end, 

preparatory  to  taking    the  jud 

down. 


Myest,  most,  almost. 
Mysel,  myself. 
Myessen,  mason. 

Nicker,  to  neigh,  to  laugh. 

Nick-nacks,  trifles. 

Nick- sticks,  a  mode  of  reckoning 

which  ladies  well  understand. 
Niinmel,  nimble. 
Niver,  never. 
Nob,  knob. 
Nobbut,  only. 
Noint,  to  anoint. 
Nouskyep,  a  longing  or  hankering 

n/ter  change. 
Norsin',  nursing. 
Nowt,  nothing. 
Nowther,  neither. 
Nowse,  nothing 
Nut,  not. 
Nyem,  name.    ■ 
Nyen,  none. 
Nyek'd,  naked. 


O. 

O',  of.  Oppea,  open. 

Off  the  way,   off  the   boards  on  Out-bye,  at  the  shaft  or  bottom  of 

which  the  tram  ought  to  run.  the  pit. 

Oil,  (to  "  oil  his  old  wig,")  to  make  Ower,  over. 

tipsy.  Owertyen,  overtaken. 

On't,  of  it.  Owercastin',  overcasting. 

Ony,  any,  only.  Owt,  anything. 


Painches  waggin',  a  lot  at  phrase     Pairtin',  parting, 
implying    severe    <>r    incessant     Pairts,  parts, 
labour.  Palaver,  talk,  conversation. 


XXV111 


GLOSSARY. 


Pant,  a  public  fountain. 

Parfet,  perfect. 

Parish,  perish. 

Farley  vou,  a  Frenchman. 

Paten'  cut,  tobacco  prepared  for 
smoking. 

P.D.,  a  young  lad  in  a  keel. 

Pea  jacket,  the  outer  holiday  dress 
of  a  keelman. 

Peg,  a  step. 

Peg,  to  move  quickly. 

Peggy,  Margaret. 

Fettikit,  petticoat. 

Pick,  a  tool  used  by  pitmen  in 
hetving  coal. 

Picklin',  providing. 

Pictur,  picture. 

Pin,  humour. 

Pitty  pat, pita-pat. 

Place  the  wark,  to  arrange  each 
man's  labour  for  the  day. 

Plack,  a  small  coin. 

Plaister'd,  plastered. 

Play  peep,  to  offer  the  least  oppo- 
sition. 

rieasur,  pleasure. 


Poorin',  pouring. 

Poppy-pill,  opium. 

Post-hyest,  post  haste. 

Posy,  flowery. 

Pouin',  pulling. 

Pous,  pulls  or  takes  away. 

Pouther,  powder. 

Pouther'd,  powdered. 

Fowl'd  off,  made  drunk. 

Pown,  pond. 

Prefarr'd,  preferred. 

Presarve,  preserve. 

Prood,  proud. 

Puil,  pool. 

Puns,  pounds. 

Purch'd,  perched. 

Put,  to  bring  the  coals  from  the 

tvorkings  to  the  crane  or  shaft 

■upon  a  tram. 
Putter,  a  boy  who  works  the  tram. 
Puttin'  hewer,  a  young  man  bound 

either  to  put  or  hew. 
Puzzenin',  poisoning. 
Pyeper,  paper. 
Pyet,  pate. 


Q. 


Quid,  a  chew  of  tobacco. 


It. 


Rack,  reach. 

Racket,  struggle. 

Rackle,  violent,  headstrong. 

Raff,  idle,  dissolute. 

Rag-backy,    the   tobacco  leaf  cut 

into  small  threads. 
Raither,  rather. 


Ramstarn,  thoughtless. 
Raptur,  rapture. 
Ratten,  rat. 
Raw,  rotv. 
Rax,  to  stretch. 
Reech,  reach. 
Reet,  right. 


GLOSSARY 


XXIX 


Reglar,  regular. 

Retorn,  return. 

Reuf,  roof. 

Rewaird,  reward. 

Ridin'    the    staug,   see    note    10, 

page  62. 
Riddy,  ready. 
Rig-and-fur,  ridge  and  furrow. 


Rivolution,  revolution. 

Robin  Gray,  a  bonnet. 

Rosin,  resin. 

Roun',  round,  around. 

Rowl'd,  rolled. 

Rozin'd,  comfortably  tipsy. 

Runnin'  fitter,  a,  fitter's  deputy. 


Sackless,  simple. 

Sae,  so. 

Sair,  sore. 

Sail  or  Sally,  Sarah. 

Sang,  song. 

Sappy    drinking,   protracted  and 

excessive  drinking. 
Sark,  shirt. 
Sarten,  certain. 
Sarvice,  service. 
Saut,  salt. 
Scather'd  feet,  feet  injured  from 

water  and  small  coals,   in  the 

shoes. 
Scores,  debts. 
Scrafflin',  struggling. 
Scrammel,  scramble. 
Scran,  food. 

Scraper,  a  fiddler,  a  fiddle-stick. 
Scribe,  a  writer. 
Scunner,  to  notice,  to  observe. 
Se,  so. 
Sec,  such. 
Seekness,  sickness. 
Seeven,  seven. 
Seet,  sight. 
Seers,  prophets. 


Sel,  self. 

Sell'd,  sold. 

Setturday,  Sa tun/ay. 

Shake-cap,  a  well-known  game. 

Shaw'd,  injured  by  friction. 

Shem,  shame. 

Sherry-moor,  brawl. 

Shifter,  a  kind  of  superintendent. 

Shilly-shallyin',  hesitating. 

Shine,  a  row,  a  disturbance. 

Shiel's,  Shields. 

Shoon,  shoes. 

Shootber,  shoulder. 

Sic,  such. 

Siddell,  schedule. 

Sin,  since. 

Singin'-hinny,  cake  with  currants 

and  butter  in  it,  and  baked  ovei 

the  fire  on  a  girdle. 
Sin-syne,  since. 
Sipe,  to  drain  or  extract. 
Sir  Maffa,  Sir  Matthew. 
Sit,  to  stick. 
Skaith,  danger. 
Skelp,  to  move  rapidly,  to  slap  or 

strike  with  the  open  hand. 
Skelp  and  yark,  to  move  rapidly. 


XXX 


GLOSSARY 


Skin-flint,  a  keen,  sharp  fellow. 
Skipper,  the  captain  of  n  keel  or 

coal  barge. 
Skuil,  school. 
Skyel,  scale. 
Skyet,  skate. 
Slaw,  slow. 
Slawly,  slowly. 
Sleight,  slight. 
Slug,  a  bullet  or  ball. 
Slum,  slumber. 

Slush,  a  person  greedy  of  drink, 
Sma',  small. 

Smarten,  to  dress  more  gaily, 
Smiddy,  a  blacksmith's  shop. 
Smudge,  to  laugh. 
Smudgin',  laughing. 
Snaffle,    to    obtain    anything    by 

unfair  means. 
Snaw,  snow. 
Sneck  -  drawn,    narrow  -  minded, 

contracted,  mean. 
Snotter- clout, pocket  handkerchief. 
Snotty  dog,  a  blubbering  lad. 
'Sociation,  association . 
Something  something. 
Sooru,  swim. 
Soond,  sound. 

Sonsy,  lucky,  pleasant,  agreeable. 
Souk,  suck. 
Sowt,  sought. 

Spangin',  jumping,  leaping. 
Specks,  spectacles. 
Speer,  to  seek,  to  inquire. 
Speet,  spit, 
Spelk,  a  small  splinter,  a  slender 

creature. 


Spencer,  a  kind  oj  upper  jacket. 
Spicy-fizzer,  a  currant  cake. 
Spice  kyel,  broth  tuith  raisins. 
Splet,  split. 
Sported,  to  wear  or  display,  as  to 

"  sport  "  a  new  coat  or  hat. 
Spreed,  to  spread. 
Spuin,  spoon. 
Spurrits,  spirits. 
Squad,  a  troop,  a  number. 
Staincheybank,  Stagsha wbank . 
Stan',  stand, 
Stannin',  standing. 
Stans,  reckons,  counts. 
Staru,  stern. 
Start,  a  commencement. 
Statin',  stating. 
Steed,  stead,  instead. 
Steekin',  sticking. 
Steit,  as  well  as. 
Stevil,   to  stagger,  to  grope  your 

way. 
Sl\cks,furniture. 
Stingo,  strong  old  ale, 
Stob,  a  stump,  a  post. 
'Stonished,  astonished. 
Stook,  the  remains  of  the  pillar  of 

coal  after  it  has  been  jenkined. 
Stour,  dust  floating  in  the  air. 
Stowen,  stolen. 
Strang,  strong. 
Stranger,  stronger. 
Strangger,  stronger. 
Stravaigin',  strolling  about. 
Straw  (in  the),  an  accouchement. 
Streen'd,  strained. 
Streight,  straight. 


(.LOSSAKY. 


XXXI 


Stritchin',  stretching. 

Strite,  straight. 

Strummin',  playing. 

Stuil,  stool. 

Stur,  stir. 

fc'tyen,  stone. 

Styth,_/bwi  air. 

Suckshen  or  suction,  ale  or  beer. 

Sud,  should. 

Sun'erland,  Sunderland. 

Suin,  soon. 

Surch,  search. 

Swang,  swamp. 


Swatch,  a  pattern  or  sample. 
Swattlin',  tippling. 
Sweel,  to  melt,  to  waste  away. 
Sweer,  to  swear. 
Sweet,  perspiration. 
Swig,  to  drink  heartily,  drinking. 
Swither,  to  fear,  to  tremble,  a  ner- 
vous state. 
Syek,  sake. 
Syem,  same, 
Syevin',  saving. 
Syev,  save. 
Syne,  since. 


Tantrums,  high  airs. 

Tarn,  fierce,  crabbed. 

Taties,  potatoes. 

Ta.tr,  fit,  suitable,  potato. 

Teaser,  care  or  annoyance. 

Te,  to,  thee. 

Tee,  too. 

Tee,  T,  to  a  nicety. 

Tegither,  together. 

Telt,  told. 

Te-morn,  tomorrow. 

Tendin',  attending. 

Teugh,  tough. 

Tew,  to  struggle,  toil. 

Theaker,  a  (hatcher. 

Thegither,  together. 

Tlieirsels,  themselves. 

Thereaboots,  thereabouts. 

Thill,  the  surface  upon  which 

tram  runs. 
Thoom,  thumb. 


Thorty,  thirty. 

Thowt,  a  thought,  a  trifle. 

Thrawn,  thrown. 

Thraw,  throw. 

Threed,  thread. 

Threep'd,  protested,  argue,/. 

Threesome,  treble. 

Threeten,  threaten. 

Threets,  threats. 

Thresh,  thrash. 

Thrilly,  thrilling. 

Thrimmel,  to  draw  money  reluc- 
tantly from  the  pocket. 

Thunner,  thunder. 

Tift,  a  fit  of  anger,  ill. humour. 

Timmer,  provision,  fare. 

Titty,  sister. 

Tiv,  to. 
the     Toddle,  to  walk  slowly,  to  ivalk  as 
a  chilil. 

Toon,  town. 


XXXII 


GLOSSARY. 


Toots,  toners. 

Tootin',  blowing. 

Top,  a  pit  term  for  coal,  when 
quite  prepared  for  removal  by 
wedges  or  potvder. 

Topper,  anything  superior. 

Toppin'  pinn'd  and  padded  neat, 
the  arrangement  of  the  hair  in 
the  olden  time. 

Tormit,  turnip. 

Torn,  turn. 

Torn-act,  turn-act,  or  statute. 

Tom-buik,  turn-book. 

Tornpike,  turnpike, 

Tortle,  turtle. 

Tortur,  torture. 

Tother,  the  other. 

Towen,  to  tame. 

Toyte,  to  totter  like  old  age. 

Tram,  a  small  carriage  upon  which 
a  corf  or  basket  is  placed ;  or  it 
sometimes  means  two  boys  who 
have  the  charge  of  this  carriage, 
the  one  drawing  and  the  other 
pushing  it. 

Trapper,  a  boy  who  has  the  charge 
of  a  door  in  the  mine,  for  pre- 
serving the  circulation  of  the  air. 

Trappin'  trade,  the  business  of  a 
trapper. 

Traps,  apparatus,  implements. 

Treacle-wow,  treacle  beer. 

Treed,  tread. 

Trig,  a  stick  upwards,  of  a  foot  in 
length,  across  which  a  boioler 
strides  when  he  throws  the  bowl 
away. 


Trippet  and  coit,  a  game  well 
known  in  the  north. 

Troot,  trout. 

Tuiff,  tough. 

Tuik,  look. 

Tuilj  tool. 

Tuimmin',  ebbing,  emptying. 

Tuin,  tune. 

Tuine,  empty. 

Tummel'd,  tumbled. 

Tussel,  struggle. 

Twang,  "  for  everlasting  twang," 
an  emphatic  mode  of  expressing 
"for  ever." 

Twee,  two. 

Twel'inonth,  twelvemonth. 

Twilted,  quilted. 

Twinnin',  giving  birth  to  twins. 

Tyeble,  table. 

Tyed,  toad. 

Tyek,  take. 

Tyekin',  taking. 

Tyek't,  take  it. 

Tyel,  tale. 

Tyelyer,  tailor. 

Tyen,  taken. 

Tyest,  taste. 

Tyesty,  tasty. 

Tyunnner,  emptier. 

Tyup,  the  last  basket  or  corf  sent 
up  out  of  the  pit  at  the  end  of 
the  year.  The  name  is  got  from 
a  tup's  horn  accompanying  it. 
This  same  horn  is  sent  up 
throughout  the  year  ivith  every 
twentieth  corf,  or  the  last  in 
every     score.        "  Bussin'     the 


GLOSSARY. 


XXX111 


Tyup"  is  covering  the  coals  with  or   holidays    which    take  place 

lighted  candles,  which  the  lads  generally  after  this  event, 

bey,   borrow,  or  steal,  for  the  Tyuth-an-egg   or   Tutenague,    a 

occasion.     It   is  an   expression  white  metallic  compound, 
of  their   joy  at  the  gaudy  days 


Un,  one. 

Unlarn'd,  unlearned. 


U. 


Unseetly,  unsightly. 
Uz,  us. 


Vage,  voyage. 
Yantin',  boasting. 
Yargins,  virgins. 
Varmint,  vermin. 


Varry,  very. 

Vends,  a  limited  sale  of  coal,  as 
arranged  by  the  "  trade." 


W 


Wa',  wall. 

Wae,  woe. 

Wad,  would. 

Waddent,  would  vui. 

Wa  filer,  a  person  in  liquor  /calking 

unsteadily. 
Waff  o'  cawd,  a  slight  cold. 
Wag,  to  chatter. 
Wagg'd,  passed  on. 
Waik,  weak. 
Wairch,  insipid 
Waiter,  water. 
Wait'ry,  watery. 
Wall-eyed,  white-eyed. 
Wannel,  the  gaitof  aweary  person. 
War,  were. 

Wark,  to  ivork,  to  ache. 
Warkin',  aching. 
Warks,  works. 
Warld,  world. 


Warse,  worse. 
Warsel,  struggle. 
Warst,  ivorst. 
Wasn't,  was  not. 
Weans,  children,  Utile  ones. 
\\  earin',  growing. 
Weddin',  wedding. 
Wee,  little,  small. 
Weeks,  wicks. 
Weel,  well. 
Weer,  wear. 
Weetin',  wetting. 
Weren't,  were  not. 
Wesh'd,  washed. 
Weshin',  ivashing. 
Wey,  why,  well. 
Whe,  who. 
Whe'll,  who  will. 
Wheriver,  wherever. 
Whese,  whose. 


XXXIV 


GLOSSARY. 


Wliilk,  which. 

Whup,  whip. 

Whup-while,  at  short  periods,  fre- 
quently. 

Whurligigs,  carriages. 

Whurry,  wherry. 

Whusler,  whistler. 

VVhussel,  whistle. 

Wi',  with. 

Wid,  with  it. 

Will  or  Willy,  William. 

Willie-waught,  a  full  draught  of 
ale  or  other  strong  liquor. 

Windin',     talking     largely     and 
loudly. 


Winnet,  will  not. 

Wiv,  with. 

Wor,  our. 

Worsel,  to  wrestle. 

Wot,  to  guess,  to  know. 

Wowl,  to  cry  or  howl. 

Wrang,  wrong. 

Wressel,  to  wrestle. 

Wrought  out,  worn  out 

VVrowtj  wrought. 

Wyeken',  waken. 

Wuns,  zounds. 

Wyeil,  lo pick  out,  choose,  or  select. 

Wyeno,  the  stomach. 

Wyest,  waist,  waste. 


Yable,  able.  Yevice,  once. 

Yad,  a  worn-out  horse.  Yep,  aPe- 

Yammer,  a  continual  repetition  of  Yess,  ace 

vexatious  expressions.  Yott,  gate. 

Yark,  tobeat  soundly,  to  go  quickly,  Yit,  yet. 

to  thump.  Yokens,  when  two  trams  or  car- 

Yearthly,  earthly.  riages  meet,  going  in  different 

Yeck,  oak.  directions. 

Yeckey,  echo.  Yont,  beyond. 

Yel  or  yell,  ale.  Yor,  your. 
Yen,  one. 


(xxxv) 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

The  Pitman's  Pay,  Part  1 1 

,  Part  II ....     21 

,  Part  III 41 

Stanzas  on  the  Intended  New  Line  of  Road  from 

Potticar  Lane  to  Leyburn  Hole 65- 

The  Oiling  of  Dicky's  Wig 77 

Opening  of  the  Newcastle  and  Carlisle  Railway     101 
The  Captains  and  the  Quayside,  some  thirty  years 

ago  107 

A  Keelman's  Tribute  to  a  Friend 114 

A  Dirge  on  the  Death  of  Coaly   116 

Joyce's  Patent  Stove    118 

The  Humble  Petition  of  the  Sand  Banks  in  the 

Tyne 120 

The  Alderman's  Lament    122 

The  Pea  Jacket    125 

The  Move  men  e 127 

A  Glance  at  Polly  Technic 129 

Lines  on  John  Smith,  commonly  called  John  the 

Barber    132 


XXXVI  CONTENTS. 

The  Author's  Arm  Chair 133 

The  Author's  Favourite  Dog  134 

On  Parting  with  a  Favourite  Mare 137 

A  Character 139 

Charley  the  Newsmonger    140 

On  seeing  a  Mouse  run  across  the  Road  in  January  141 
Petition  of  an  Apple  Tree  threatened  with  being 

removed  from  its  native  place 143 

Answer  to  the  foregoing 145 

The  Tippling  Dominie  146 

The  Washing  Day   149 

Woman   151 

David  Profit,  the  Landlord  of  the  Ship,  on  Gates- 
head Low  Fell    153 

Carter's  Well — A  New  Song  154 

The  Industrious  and  Peaceable  Pair   155 

The  Village  Howdy   157 

The  Happy  Home    159 


ISrrata. 

TAOE.     LINE. 

8,  . .    13,  for  dread,  read  dreed. 

8,  . .   15,  for  head,  read  heed. 

8,  ..    16,  for  Mum,  read  Mum. 

9,  . .   10,  for  kavel,  read  kyevel. 
24,  . .   20,  for  enough,  read  eneugh. 

30,  ..    15.  for  kittle,  read  hettle;  and  for  tune,  read  tuin. 

31,  . .     l,for  why,  muZ  wey. 

35,  . .  15,  for  tougue,  read  tongue. 

37,  . .     7,  for  wark,  read  work. 

63,  . .     9,  for  before  they,  read  before  the  day  they. 

70,  . .     9,  for  te,  rearf  tee. 

71,  ..  21,  for  oil  his  wig,  read  oil  his  old  wig. 
80,  ..  21,  for  te,  read  tee. 

85,  . .     2,  for  stranger,  read  strangger. 

89,  . .   21,  for  oil  his  wig,  read  oil  his  old  wig. 

94,  . .   17,  for  Gardner,  read  Gardiner. 

96,  ,.  24,  for  gimcranks,  read  gimcracks. 

106,  . .     8,  for  down,  read  doon. 

157,  ..    10,  for  day,  read  days. 

158,  . .     5,  for  end  here,  read  here  end. 
167,  ..     6,  for  Gardner,  read  Gardiner. 


THE  PITMAN'S  PAY, 


THE   PITMAN'S  PAY. 


PART    FIRST. 


The  subject  of  the  poem — the  Pat  Night  commences  by  long  swigs 
of  barleycorn — the  wages  are  settled — a  fresh  pot  is  called — others 
follow,  until  the  yel  is  declared  excellent — little  parties  are  then 
formed — the  "  gifted  few"  discuss  with  great  gravity  the  various 
knotty  points  in  religion,  and  at  length  determine  that  the  shortest 
way  is  the  best — others,  the  gambling  few,  are  busy  at  cards  and 
other  games,  intent  only  on  each  other's  pay — a  description  of  the 
games  then  in  use,  with  a  sketch  of  some  of  the  leaders  in  each — 
the  night  wears  late,  and  the  wives  drop  in — Will  is  petrified  by 
Nelly's  entrance — she  sets  upon  him  like  a  tiger,  abusing  him 
and  his  companions — Will  turns  her  out — is  afraid  she  will  drive 
him  daft — gives  some  account  of  his  courtship  and  marriage,  and 
how  all  his  prospects  of  happiness  were  scattered  to  the  winds — he 
describes  his  endless  drudgery  to  support  her  extravagance — her 
ceaseless  clamour — her  complaints  if  he  take  himsell'a  gill, whilst  her 
own  bottle  must  be  well  filled  every  pay-week — the  miserable  food  she 
provides  for  him  and  the  bairns,  enjoying  the  "  tyesty  bits  hersel" — 
their  clothing  equally  bad — her  dirty  and  disgusting  conduct,  and  the 
thriftless  management  of  his  affairs — he  is  called  henpecked,  and  be- 
comes the  laughing-stock  of  his  neighbours,  who  advise  a  course  of 
treatment  for  her — everybody  has  his  plan  for  managing  a  bad  wife, 
except  the  "poor  tormented  man" — Will  thinks  his  heart  will 
break — pays  his  shot  and  retires — Nanny  looks  in — asks  Neddy 
if  it  be  not  time  to  leave — he  jokes  her  on  her  promise  before  wed- 
ding to  let  him  have  his  beer — she  replies,  and  tells  him  that  any 

B 


THE    HITMAN  S    PAY. 

thing  is  said  to  please  at  such  a  "  kittle  time" — she  thinks  he  has 
had  enough,  and  coaxes  him  away — he  prevails  on  her  to  stop  and 
taste  the  yel  praises  her  many  excellent  qualities — his  happy 
home — her  kind  treatment  and  great  economy — she  again  urges 
him,  good-naturedly,  to  go  home — tells  him  that  little  Neddy  will 
be  crying  for  his  Deddy,  and  promises  to  take  him  home  a  clean 
pipe  and  a  pot  of  beer — they  leave — arrive  at  their  happy  home, 
where  she  sets  him  in  his  easy  chair  with  Neddy  on  his  knee — 
both  unito  in  praising  Neddy — she  blames  Wilson,  the  pig-killer, 
for  not  coming  in  time  to  cut  down  the  pig — thinks  he  will  be 
amusing  his  comrades  with  some  of  his  unaccountable  stories — 
the  supper  is  now  ready,  which  is  a  piece  of  "  gissey's  tripe'' — the 
happiness  of  such  a  pair  is  beyond  the  reach  of  "  pomp  and  pride" — 
such  may  take  a  lesson  from  it — she  tells  Ned  she  has  been  at  his 
lather's  with  something  warm  to  ease  his  cough — the  old  man  says 
the  care  of  him  will  win  her  heaven — she  desires  Ned  to  remind  ber 
to  get  him  some  black  beer  and  rum  at  the  town — thinks  they  may 
happen  to  want  a  friend  themselves,  should  poverty  in  old  age 
overtake  them — but,  if  not,  such  kindness  to  others  must  tell  in 
their  favour  at  last — they  determine  to  pursue  the  same  course  to 
the  end,  if  they  have  the  means. 


I  sing  not  here  of  warriors  bold, 
Of  battles  lost  or  victories  won, 

Of  cities  sack'd  or  nations  sold, 
Or  cruel  deeds  by  tyrants  done. 

I  sing  the  pitmen's  plagues  and  cares, 
Their  labour  hard  and  lowly  lot, 

Their  homely  joys  and  humble  fares, 
Their  pay-night1  o'er  a  foaming  pot. 

Their  week's  work  done,  the  coaly  craft, 
These  horny-handed  sons  of  toil, 

Require  a  "  right  gude  willie-waught," 
The  creaking  wheels  of  life  to  oil. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

See  hewers,  putters,  drivers  too, 

With  pleasure  hail  this  happy  day — 

All,  clean  trashed  up,  their  way  pursue 
To  drink,  and  crack,  and  get  their  pay. 

The  Buck,  the  Black  Horse,  and  the  Key*. 

Have  witness'd  many  a  comic  scene, 
Where's  yel  to  cheer,  and  mirth  to  please, 

And  drollery  that  would  cure  the  spleen. 

With  parched  tongues,  and  geyzen'd  throats, 
They  reach  the  place  where  barleycorn 

Soon  down  the  dusty  cavern  floats, 
From  pewter  pot  or  homely  horn. 

The  dust  wash'd  down,  then  comes  the  care 
To  find  that  all  is  rightly  bill'd,8 

And  each  to  get  his  hard-earn'd  share, 
From  some  one  in  division  skill'd. 

The  money-matters  thus  decided, 

They  push  the  pot  more  briskly  round  : 

With  hearts  elate,  and  hobbies  strided, 
Their  cares  are  in  the  nappy  drown'd. 

"  Here,  lass,"  says  Jack,  "  help  this  agyen, 
"  It 's  better  yel  than's  i'  the  toun  ; 

"  But  then  the  road's  se  het  it 's  tyen, 
"  It  fizz'd,  aw  think,  as  it  went  doun." 

Thus  many  a  foaming  pot's  requir'd 
To  quench  the  dry  and  dusty  spark  ; 

When  ev'ry  tongue,  as  if  inspir'd, 

Wags  on  about  their  wives  and  wark — 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

The  famous  feats  done  in  their  youth, 
At  howling,  hall,  and  clubby-shaw — 

Camp-meetings,  Ranters,  Gospel-truth, 
Religion,  politics,  and  law. 

With  such  variety  of  matter, 

Opinions,  too,  as  various  quite, 
We  need  not  wonder  at  the  clatter, 

When  ev'ry  tongue  wags — wrong  or  right. 

The  gifted  few,  in  lungs  and  lare, 
At  length,  insensihly,  divide  'em  ; 

And,  from  a  three- legg'd  stool,  or  chair, 
Each  draws  his  favour'd  few  beside  him. 

Now  let  us  ev'ry  face  survey, 

Which  seems  as  big  with  grave  debate, 
As  if  each  word  they  had  to  say 

Was  pregnant  with  impending  fate. 

Mark  those  in  that  secluded  place, 
Set  snug  around  the  stool  of  oak. 

All  labouring  at  some  knotty  case, 
Envelop'd  in  tobacco  smoke. 

These  are  the  pious,  faithful  few, 
Who  pierce  the  dark  decrees  of  fate  : 

They 've  read  the  "Pilgrim's  Progress"  through, 
As  well  as  "  Boston's  Fourfold  State." 

They  '11  point  you  out  the  day  and  hour 
When  they  experienc'd  sin  forgiven — 

Convince  you  that  they  're  safe,  and  sure 
To  die  in  peace,  and  go  to  heaven. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

The  moral  road  's  too  far  about — 

They  like  a  surer,  shorter  cut, 
Which  frees  the  end  from  every  doubt, 

And  saves  them  many  a  weary  foot. 

The  first 's  commensurate  with  our  years, 
And  must  be  travell'd  day  by  day  ; 

And  to  the  "  new-born"  few  appears 
A  very  dull  and  tedious  way. 

The  other's  length  always  depends 
Upon  the  time  when  we  begin  it : — 

Get  but  set  out  before  life  ends, 

For  all  'a  set  right  when  once  we  're  in  it. 

They  're  now  debating  which  is  best : 
The  short-cut  votes  the  other's  double — 

For  this  good  reason,  'mongst  the  rest, 
It  really  saves  a  world  of  trouble. 

He  that  from  goodness  farthest  strays, 
Becomes  a  saint  of  first  degree  ; 

And  Ranter  Jeremiah3  says, 
"  Let  bad  ones  only  come  to  me." 

Old  Earthworm  soon  obeys  the  call, 
Conscious,  perhaps,  he  wanted  mending  ; 

For  some  few  flaws  from  Adam's  fall, 

Gloss'd  o'er  by  cant  and  sheer  pretending, 

.Still  stick  to  him,  afield  or  home, 
The  Methodistic  brush  defying ; 

So  that  the  Ranter's  curry-comb 

Is  now  the  only  means  worth  trying. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

In  habits  form'd  since  sixty  years, 

The  hope  of  change  won't  weigh  a  feather 

Their  power  so  o'er  him  domineers, 
That  they  and  life  must  end  together. 

See  on  their  right  a  gambling  few, 
Whose  every  word  and  look  display 

A  desperate,  dark,  designing  crew, 
Intent  upon  each  other's  pay. 

They  're  racers,  cockers,  carders,  keen 

As  ever  o'er  a  tankard  met, 
Or  ever  bowl'd  a  match  between 

The  Popplin  well  and  Mawvin's  yett.* 

On  cock-fight,  dog-fight,  cuddy-race, 
Or  pitch-and-toss,  trippet-and-coit, 

Or  on  a  soap-tail'd  grunter's  chase, 
They  '11  risk  the  last-remaining  doit. 

They're  now  at  cards,  and  Gibby  Gripe 
Is  peeping  into  Harry's  hand  ; 

And  ev'ry  puff,  blown  from  his  pipe, 
His  party  easily  understand. 

Some  for  the  odd-trick  pushing  hard — 
Some  that  they  lose  it  pale  with  fear — 

Some  betting  on  the  turn-up  card — 
Some  drawing  cuts  for  pints  of  beer. 

Whilst  others  brawl  about  Jack's5  brock, 
That  all  the  Chowden  dogs  can  bang ; 

Or  praise  Lang  Wilson's  "  piley  cock," 
Or  Dixon's6  feats  upon  the  swang.7 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

Here  Tom,  the  pink  of  bowlers,  gain'd 

Himself  a  never-dying  name, 
By  deeds  wherein  an  ardour  reign'd 

Which  neither  age  nor  toil  could  tame. 

For,  labour  done,  and  o'er  his  doze, 
Tom  took  his  place  upon  the  hill ; 

And  at  the  very  evening's  close, 
You  faintly  saw  him  bowling  still. 

All  this  display  of  pith  and  zeal 
Was  so  completely  habit-grown, 

That  many  an  hour  from  sleep  he  'd  steal, 
To  bowl  upon  the  hill  alone. 

The  night  wears  late — the  wives  drop  in 
To  take  a  peep  at  what  is  doing  ; 

For  many  would  not  care  a  pin 

To  lose  at  cards  a  fortnight's  hewing. 

Poor  Will  had  just  his  plagues  dismiss'd, 
And  had  "  Begone  dull  care"  begun. 

With  face  as  grave  as  Methodist, 
And  voice  most  sadly  out  of  tune  ; 

But  soon  as  e'er  he  Nelly  saw, 

With  brows  a  dreadful  storm  portending, 
He  dropp'd  at  once  his  under  jaw, 

As  if  his  mortal  race  was  ending ; 

For  had  the  grim  Destroyer  stood, 
In  all  his  ghastliness,  before  him, 

It  could  not  more  have  froze  his  blood, 
Nor  thrown  a  deadlier  paleness  o'er  him. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

His  better-half,  all  fire  and  tow, 

Call'd  him  a  slush — his  comrades  raft' — 

Swore  that  he  could  a  brewing  stow, 
And  after  that  sipe  all  the  draff. 

Will  gather'd  up  his  scatter'd  powers — 
Drew  up  his  fallen  chops  again — 

Seiz'd  Nell,  and  push'd  her  out  of  doors — 
Then  broke  forth  in  this  piteous  strain  : — 

"  O  !  Nell,  thou 's  rung  me  niony  a  peal : 
"  Nyen  but  mysel  could  bide  thy  yammer  : 

"  Thy  tongue  runs  like  wor  pully  wheel, 

"And  dirls  my  lug  like  wor  smith's  hammer. 

"  Thou  '11  drive  me  daft,  aw  often  dread  ; 

"  For  now  aw's  nobbut  varry  silly, 
"  Just  like  a  geuss  cut  i'  the  head, 

"  Like  Jemmy  Muir  or  Preacher  Willy.8 

"Aw  thought  wor  Nell,  when  Nelly  Dale, 
"  The  varry  thing  to  myek  me  happy : 

"  She  curl'd  maw  hair,  she  tied  maw  tail, 
"And  clapt  and  stroked  maw  little  Cappy. 

"  But  suin  as  e'er  the  knot  was  tied, 

"  And  we  were  yok'd  for  life  together — 

"  When  Nell  had  laugh' d,  and  Minny  cried — 
"And  aw  was  fairly  i'  the  tether — 

"  Then  fierce  as  fire  she  seiz'd  the  breeks, 
"And  roun'  maw  heed  flew  stuils  and  chairs: 

"  Maw  tail  hung  lowse,  like  cannel  weeks, 
"An  awd  pit  ended  Cappy's  cares. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  ! 

"  Just  like  wor  niaisters  when  we're  bun, 

"  If  men  and  lads  be  varry  scant, 
"  They  wheedle  us  wi'  yel  and  fun, 

"  And  coax  us  into  what  they  want. 

"  But  niyek  yor  mark,  then  snuffs  and  sneers 
"  Suin  stop  yor  gob  and  lay  yor  braggin  : 

"  When  yence  yor  feet  are  i'  the  geers, 

"  Maw  soul !  they  keep  yor  painches  waggin'. 

"  Aw  toil  maw  byens,  till  through  maw  clay 
"  They  peep,  to  please  maw  dowly  kavel : 

"  Aw's  at  the  coal  wall  a'  the  day, 
"  And  neetly  i'  the  waiter  level. 

"  Aw  hammer  on  till  efternuin, 

"  Wi'  weary  byens  and  empty  wyem  : 

"  Nay,  varry  oft  the  pit's  just  duin 
"  Before  aw  weel  get  wannel'd  hyem. 

"  But  this  is  a  of  little  use, 

"  For  what  aw  de  is  niver  reet : 
"  She  's  like  a  'larm-bell  i'  the  house, 

"  Ding-dongin'  at  me,  day  and  neet. 

"  If  aw  sud  get  maw  wark  ower  suin, 

"  She's  flaid  te  deeth  aw've  left  some  byet.9 

"  And  if  aw's  till  the  efternuin, 

"  Aw's  drunk  because  aw  is  se  lyet. 

"  Feed  us  and  deed  us  weel,  she  may, 
"  As  she  gets  a' ways  money  plenty  ; 

"  For  ev'ry  day,  for  mony  a  pay, 

"  Aw  've  hew'd  and  putten  twee-and-twenty. 

c 


10  THE    PITMAN  S    PAV. 

"  'Tis  true  aw  sometimes  get  a  gill, 
"  But  then  she  aVays  hez  her  grog  ; 

"  And  if  aw  din 't  her  bottle  fill, 

"  Aw's  then  a  skin-flint,  sneck-drawn  dog. 

"  She  buys  me,  tee,  the  warst  o'  meat, 
"  Bad  bullock's  liver,  houghs,  and  knees, 

"  Teugh,  stinkin'  tripe,  and  awd  cows'  feet, 
"  Shanks  full  o'  mawks,  and  half-nowt  cheese.10 

"  Off  sic  she  feeds  the  bairns  and  me — 
"  The  tyesty  bits  she  tyeks  kersei', 

"  In  which  ne  share  nor  lot  hev  we, 
"  Exceptin'  sometimes  i'  the  smell. 

"  The  crowdy  is  wor  daily  dish, 

"  But  varry  different  is  their  Minny's  ; 

""For  she  gets  a'  her  heart  can  wish, 

"  In  strang-lyced  tea  and  singin'  hinnies. 

"  Maw  canny  bairns  luik  pale  and  wan, 
"  Their  bits  and  brats  are  varry  scant : 

"  The  mother's  feasts  rob  them  o'  scran, 
"  For  wilfu'  wyest  myeks  woefu'  want. 

"  She  peels  the  taties  wiv  her  teeth, 

"  And  spreeds  the  butter  wiv  her  thoom  : 

"  She  blaws  the  kyel  wi  stinkin'  breeth, 
"  Where  mawks  and  caterpillars  soom  ! 

"  She's  just  a  movin'  heap  o'  muck, 

"  Where  durts  of  a  description  muster ; 

"  For  dishclout  serves  her  apron  nuik, 
"  As  weel  as  snotter-clout  and  duster  ! 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  11 

"  She  lays  out  punds  in  manadge11  things, 
"  Like  niony  a  thriftless,  thoughtless  bein'  ; 

"  Yet  bairns  and  me,  as  if  we  'd  wings, 
"  Are  a'  in  rags  and  tatters  fleein'. 

"  Just  mark  wor  dress — a  lapless  coat 

"  Wi'  byeth  the  elbows  steekin'  through — 

"  A  hat  that  niver  cost  a  groat — 
"  A  neckless  sark — a  clog  and  shoe. 


.-< 


"  She  chalks  up  '  scores'  at  a'  the  shops, 
"  Wheriver  we  've  a  twel'month  stay'd  ; 

"  And  when  we  flit,  the  landlord  stops 
"  Maw  sticks,  till  a'  the  rent  be  paid. 

"  Aw's  call'd  a  henpeck'd,  pluckless  calf, 
"  For  lettin'  her  the  breeches  weer ; 

"  And  tell'd  aw  dinnet  thresh  her  half, 
"  Wi'  mony  a  bitter  gibe  and  jeer." 

"  Aw  think,"  says  Dick,  "  aw  wad  her  towen, 
"  And  varry  suin  her  courage  cuil : 

"  Aw'd  dook  her  in  wor  engine  pown,12 
"  Then  clap  her  on  repentance'  stuil. 

"  If  that  sud  nut  her  tantrums  check, 
"  Aw'd  peel  her  te  the  varry  sark  ; 

"  Then  'noint  her  wiv  a  twig  o'  yeck, 
"  And  efter  myek  her  eat  the  bark." 

"  Eneugh  like  this  aw've  heerd  thro'  life ; 

"  For  ev'ry  body  hez  a  plan 
"  Te  guide  a  rackle  ram-stam  wife, 

"  Except  the  poor  tormented  man." 


12  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

Will  could  not  now  his  feelings  stay, 

The  tear  roll'd  down  his  care-worn  cheek  : 

He  thrimmel'd  out  what  he  'd  to  pay, 

And  sobbing  said,  "  Maw  heart '11  breek." 

Here  Nanny,  modest,  mild,  and  shy, 
Took  Neddy  gently  by  the  sleeve — 

"  Aw  just  luik'd  in  as  aw  went  by — 
"  Is  it  not,  thinks  te,  time  te  leave  ?" 

"  Now,  Nan,  what  myeks  thee  fash  me  here- 
"  Gan  hyem  and  get  the  bairns  te  bed  : 

"  Thou  knaws  thou  promis'd  me  maw  beer, 
"  The  varry  neet  before  we  wed." 

"  Hout,  hinny,  had  thy  blabbin  jaw, 
"  Thou's  full  o'  nought  but  fun  and  lees  : 

"  At  sic  a  kittle  time,  ye  knaw, 
"  Yen  tells  ye  ony-thing  te  please. 

"  Besides,  thou's  had  eneugh  o'  drink, 
"  And  mair  wad  ony  myek  thee  bad  : 

"  Aw  see  thy  een  begin  te  blink — 
"  Gan  wi'  me,  like  a  canny  lad." 

"  O,  Nan,  thou  hez  a  witchin'  way 
"  0'  myekin'  me  de  what  thou  will : 

"  Thou  needs  but  speak,  and  aw  obey  ; 
"  Yet  there 's  ne  doubt  aw's  maister  still. 

"  But  tyest  the  yel,  and  stop  a  bit — 
"  Here,  tyek  a  seat  upon  maw  knee  ; 

"  For  'mang  the  hewers  i'  wor  pit, 
"  There's  nyen  hez  sic  a  wife  as  me. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  13 

"  For  if  maw  '  top'  comes  badly  down, 
"  Or  owt  else  keeps  me  lang  away, 

"  She  cheers  me  wi'  the  weel-knawn  soun' — 
"  '  Thou's  had  a  lang  and  weary  day.' 

"  If  aw  be  naggy,  Nanny's  smile 
"  Suin  myeks  me  blithe  as  ony  lark, 

"  And  fit  te  loup  a  yett  or  stile — 
"  Maw  varry  byens  forget  te  wark. 

"  Maw  Nan — maw  bairns — maw  happy  hyem — 
"  Set  ower  hard  labour's  bitter  pill : 

"  O,  Providence  !  but  spare  me  them, 
"  The  warld  may  then  wag  as  it  will. 

"  She  waits  upon  me  hand  and  foot — 
"  I  want  for  nowt  that  she  can  gie  me  : 

"  She  fills  maw  pipe  wi'  paten'  cut — 
"  Leets  it,  and  hands  it  kindly  te  me. 

"  She  tells  me  all  her  bits  o'  news, 

"  Pick'd  up  the  time  aw've  been  away ; 

"  And  frae  maw  mouth  the  cuttie  pous, 
"  When  sleep  owercomes  maw  weary  clay. 

"  However  poor  or  plain  wor  fare, 

"  The  better  bits  come  a'  te  me  : 
"  The  last  o'  coffee's  Nanny's  share, 

"  And  mine  the  hindmost  o'  the  tea. 

"  And  when  the  warld  runs  sair  agyen  us, 
"  When  wark  is  slack  and  money  duin, 

"  When  want  has  a'  but  ower-tyen  us, 
"  She  a'waye  keeps  maw  heart  abuin. 


14  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

"  Se  weel  she  ettles  what  aw  get, 
"  Se  far  she  a' ways  gars  it  gan, 

"  That  nyen  can  say  we  are  i'  debt, 
"  Or  want  for  owther  claes  or  scran. 

"  And  though  my  est  twenty  years  are  past 
"  Sin'  Nanny  left  her  mother's  hyem, 

"  Ower  me  and  mine,  frae  furst  te  last, 
"  Her  care  has  a' ways  been  the  syem. 

"  Then  drink  about — whe  minds  a  jot  ? 

"  Let's  drown  wor  cares  i'  barleycorn  : 
"  Here,  lass,  come  bring  another  pot, 

"  The  '  caller'  dizn't  call  te-morn." 

"  Nay,  hinny,  Ned,  ne  langer  stay — 
"  "We  mun  be  hyem  te  little  Neddy  : 

"  He's  just  a  twelvemonth  awd  to-day, 
"  And  will  be  cryin'  for  his  Deddy. 

"  Aw'll  tyek  thee  hyem  a  pot  o'  beer, 
"  A  nice  clean  pipe,  and  backey  tee  : 

"  Thou  knaws  aw  like  te  hae  thee  near — 
"  Come,  hinny,  come  !  gan  hyem  wi'  me." 

Like  music's  soft  and  soothing  powers, 
These  honey'd  sounds  dropt  on  his  ear ; 

Or  like  the  warm  and  fertile  showers 
That  leave  the  face  of  nature  clear. 

Here  was  the  power  of  woman  shown, 
When  women  use  it  properly  : 

He  threw  his  pipe  and  reck'ning  down — 
"  Aw  will,  aw  will,  gan  hyem  wi'  thee." 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  15 

At  home  arrived,  right  cheerfully 

She  set  him  in  his  easy  chair — 
Clapt  little  Neddy  on  his  knee, 

And  bid  him  see  his  image  there. 

The  mother  pleas' d — the  father  glad, 
Swore  Neddy  had  twee  bonny  een  : 

"  There  ne'er  was,  Ned,  a  finer  lad ; 
"  And  then,  he's  like  thee  as  a  bean. 

"  Aw  've  luick'd  for  Wilson13  a'  this  day, 
"  Te  cut  the  pig  down  'fore  it's  dark ; 

"  But  he  '11  be  guzzlin'  at  the  '  pay,' 
"  And  windin'  on  about  his  wark. 


"  What  lengths  aw  've  often  heard  him  gan, 
"  Sweerin' — and  he's  not  fond  o'  fibbin' — 

"  He  '11  turn  his  back  on  ne'er  a  man, 
"  For  owther  killin'  pigs  or  libben'. 

"  Still  Jack's  an  honest,  canty  cock, 
"  As  iver  drain'd  the  juice  o'  barley  : 

"  Aw've  knawn  him  sit  myest  roun'  the  clock, 
"  Swattlin'  and  clatterin'  on  wi'  Charley. 

"  Now,  Deddy,  let  me  ease  yor  airm : 
"  Gie  me  the  bairn,  lay  down  yor  pipe, 

"  And  get  thy  supper  when  its  warm — 
"  It's  just  a  bit  o'  gissy's  tripe. 

"  Then  come  to  me,  maw  little  lammy  ! 

"  Come,  thou  apple  o'  my  e'e  ! 
"  Come,  maw  Neddy,  te  thy  mammy — 

"  Come,  maw  darlin',  come  to  mo  !" 


I  tj  THE    PITMAN'S    PAV. 

Here !  see  a  woman  truly  blest 

Beyond  the  reach  of  pomp  and  pride  ! 

Her  infant  happy  at  her  breast — 
Her  husband  happy  by  her  side. 

Then  take  a  lesson,  pamper  d  wealth, 
And  learn  how  little  it  requires 

To  make  us  happy,  when  we've  health, 
Content,  and  moderate  desires. 

"  Thy  faither,  Ned,  is  far  frae  weel : 
"  He  luicks,  poor  body,  varry  bad  : 

"  A'  ower  he  hez  a  cawdrife  feel, 
"  But  thinks  it's  but  a  waff  o'  cawd. 

"  Aw  've  just  been  ower  wi'  somethin'  warm, 
"  Te  try  te  ease  the  weary  cough, 

"  Which  baffles  byeth  the  drugs  and  charm,14 
"  And  threetens  oft  te  tyek  him  off. 

"  He  says,  '  O,  Nan,  maw  life  thou's  spar'd — 
"  '  The  good  its  duin  me 's  past  believin' : 

"  '  The  Lord  will  richly  thee  rewaird — 
"  '  Thy  care  o'  me  will  win  thee  heeven.' 

"  Now,  as  his  bottle's  nearly  tume, 
"  Mind  think  me  on  when  at  the  toun 

"  Te  get  the  drop  black-beer  and  rum, 
"  As  little  else  will  now  gan  doun. 

"  We  mebby  may  be  awd  worsels, 

"  When  poverty's  cawd  blast  is  blawin', 

"  And  want  a  frien'  when  natur  fyels, 
"  And  life  her  last  few  threeds  is  drawin'. 


THE    PITMANS    PAY.  17 

"  Besides,  the  bits  o  good  we  de 

"  The  varry  happiest  moments  gi'e  us  ; 

"  And  mun,  aw  think,  still  help  a  wee 
"  At  last  frae  awfu'  skaith  te  free  us. 

"  Let  cant  and  rant  then  rave  at  will 
"  Agyen  good  warks,  aw  here  declare  it, 

-•  ^Ye'  11  still  the  hungry  belly  fill, 
"  Se  lang  as  iver  we  can  spare  it." 

Here,  then,  we'  11  leave  this  happy  pair, 
Their  "  home  affairs"  to  con  and  settle — 

Their  "  ways  and  means,"  with  frugal  care. 
For  marketing  next  day  to  ettle. 


XOTES. 

1  The  pitman  receives  his  wages  once  a  fortnight;  and  the  Friday 
night,  which  generally  ends  his  labour  for  that  week,  is  the  time 
appointed  for  that  purpose,  and  is  called  the  "  pay  night."  One  week 
is  called  the  "pay  week,"  and  the  other  the  "  baff  week." 

2  That  is,  to  know  if  the  sum  opposite  his  name  in  the  bill  agrees 
with  his  own  account  of  his  work  for  the  fortnight.     Eight  or  a  dozen 

D 


18  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

men's  earnings  are  put  into  one  bill,  us  they  call  it,  ami  paid  by  the 
viewer  or  overman  to  some  one  person  who  attends  for  that  purpose, 
and  who  has  sufficient  "  lare"  to  enable  him  to  divide  it  at  the  public 
house  whore  the  others  meet  him. 

3  A  Ranter  preacher,  in  the  habit  of  holding  forth  on  Gateshead 
Fell. 

i  This  was  the  bowling  ground  on  Gateshead  Fell  fifty  years  ago, 
and  certainly  a  more  unsuitable  line  for  such  a  purpose  was  never 
chosen.  The  distance  from  "  Mawvin's  Yett"  to  the  "  Popplin'  Well" 
will  not  much  exceed  a  mile,  and  consists  of  two  very  steep  hills — the 
one  called  Roger's  Hill — and  the  other  the  Meeting- House  Bank, 
from  its  being  near  the  old  Methodist  chapel.  The  bowlers  com- 
menced at  "  Mawvin's  Yett,"  betwixt  the  Derwent  Crook  Pit  and  the 
farm-house  now  occupied  by  Mr.  John  Pattison,  and  proceeded  over 
Roger's  Hill,  past  Carter's  Well,  the  old  Methodist  chapel,  and  ended 
at  the  "  Popplin'  Well,"  famous  then,  as  well  as  now,  for  excellent 
washing  water.  This  well  is  situated  two  or  three  hundred  yards  east 
of  the  top  of  the  Meeting-House  Bank,  about  the  same  distance  south 
of  Sheiiff  Hill  Cottage,  and  nearly  twenty  yards  west  of  the  High 
Plantation,  and  an  equal  distance  to  the  east  of  the  present  lane  lead- 
ing to  the  south. 

5  John  Crone,  a  warm-hearted,  honest  fellow,  who  took  great  delight 
in  all  the  sports  and  pastimes  of  his  day.  He  lost  his  life  by  falling 
from  the  corf  whilst  ascending  the  shaft  of  the  Centre  Pit  in  Ravens- 
worth  Colliery,  the  17th  of  April,  1824.  The  melancholy  event  was 
occasioned  by  the  rope  slipping  over  the  top  edge  of  the  rim  of  the 
gin,  and  jolting  him  and  John  Robson  out  of  the  corf.  Of  course 
their  death  was  the  immediate  consequence. 

6  Tom  Dixon  was  a  famous  bowler  on  Gateshead  Fell ;  and  if 
health  permitted,  was  never  absent  from  a  bowling-match  of  any  note ; 
and  even  in  his  old  age  so  strong  was  this  "  ruling  passion,"  that  he 
was   frequently  seen  bowling  by  himself  in  the   summer  evenings. 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  19 

Nay,  it  is  reported,  that  on  bringing  home  a  coffin  for  one  of  his 
children,  having  to  pass  some  young  men  bowling,  he  could  not  resist 
taking  a  single  "  thraw,"  and  absolutely  set  down  the  coffin  for  that 
purpose.  The  following  notice  of  him  appeared  in  the  Tyne  Mercury 
of  January  8th,  1828:—"  Died,  at  the  'Black  Raw,'  adjoining  Gates- 
head Low  Fell,  on  the  3rd  inst.,  Thomas  Dixon,  aged  85.  His  wife 
and  her  brother  died  a  few  years  ago  at  the  same  place — the  former 
nearly  90,  and  the  latter  92.  Dixon  was  a  very  eccentric  character, 
and  cuts  a  figure  in  the  '  Pitman's  Pay,'  published  in  the  Newcastle 
Magazine.  His  great  delight  was  in  bowling,  in  which  he  invariably 
spent  the  greater  part  of  his  vacant  hours,  as  long  as  age  would 
permit.  But  now,  in  the  language  of  his  favourite  amusement,  he 
will  never  '  stride  another  trig' — his  last  '  thraw'  has  been  '  thrawn,' 
without  any  cbauce  whatever  of  being  '  called  back ;'  and  as  no  man 
had  more  friends  to  '  show  him  the  reet  way,'  we  sincerely  hope  that 
in  the  '  match'  of  life  which  is  now  over,  he  will  be  found  at  last  among 
those  who  '  win.'  " 

7  That  part  of  Roger's  Hill  running  north  and  south,  close  past  the 
west  side  of  the  old  Sheriff  Hill  engine,  a  flat  betwixt  two  slopes,  and 
a  noted  place  for  bowling  before  the  common  was  enclosed.  The 
ground  here  being  of  a  spongy  nature,  swang,  I  suppose,  is  a  corrup- 
tion of  swamp. 

8  Two  idiots,  well  known  on  Gateshead  Fell  upwards  of  forty  years 
ago. 

9  Leaving  "  some  byet,"  means  he  has  not  completed  his  day's  work, 
or  hewed  the  number  of  corves  "  placed"  him  by  the  overman.  It  is 
no  uncommon  thing  for  pitmen,  if  two  or  three  of  them  return  from 
work  together,  and  have  to  pass  a  public-house,  to  sit  drinking  until 
late  in  the  day,  and  arrive  at  home  "  muzzy." 

io  "Half-novvt"  has  long  been  the  price  of  cheese,  bawled  in  our 
ears  by  the  female  dealers  in  this  article  who  have  stalls  in  the  streets. 
T   suppose  it   means   half-price,  or  half  the  quantity   for  nothing ; 


20  THE    PITMAN'S    PA*. 

although  a  neighbour  of  mine  insists  upon  it  that' it  means  fifty  per 
cent,  less  than  nothing! 

11  "A  'Box'  or  'Club'  instituted  by  inferior  shopkeepers,  generally 
linen-drapers,  for  supplying  goods  to  poor  or  improvident  people,  who 
agree  to  pay  for  them  by  instalments." — BrockeWs  Glossary. 

12  Pond. 

13  "  Lately,  at  Bedlington,  the  place  of  his  birth,  John  Wilson,  in  the 
8(ith  year  of  his  age.  He  lived  the  greatest  part  of  his  life  on  Gates- 
head Fell,  and  earned  his  living  principally  in  the  coal-pits.  He  was 
th3  village-butcher  there  for  many  years,  and  considered  himself  at 
the  head  of  his  profession  in  all  pig-matters.  He  was  usually  called 
'  Lang  Jack,'  to  distinguish  him  from  'Little  Jack,'  another  person 
of  the  same  name.  He  cuts  a  figure  in  the  '  Pitman's  Pay.'  " — Gates- 
head Observer,  January  27,  1838. 

14  Quackery  is  not  confined  to  drugs.  The  ignorant  are  often  im- 
posed  upon  by  what  designing  knaves  call  "charms;"  and  when  the 
former  fail,  recourse  is  had  to  the  latter. 


END  OF  PART  FIRST. 


THE  PITMAN'S   PAY. 


PART   SECOND. 


A  sketch  of  the  latter  part  of  a  pay-night,  with  the  drolleries  pro- 
duced  by  barleycorn — the  commencement  of  a  pitman's  career  as 
"trapper,"  showing  how  much  the  mind  of  a  boy  is  excited,  and 
his  curiosity  roused,  on  his  first  descent  into  a  place  he  has  heard 
sa  much  about — a  digression  on  roast-goose  and  giblet-pie — the 
confusion  and  hubbub  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit  previous  to  the  men 
and  lads  being  dispersed  through  the  various  workings,  with  the 
preparations  for  "  hingin'  on" — Peter  at  a  dead  set,  or  the  difficulty 
of  "placin'  the  wark" — the  pit  "  hings  on" — the  "  heedsmen" 
commence  "  putting,"  when  the  efforts  of  the  "  waik"  to  keep  pace 
with  the  "Strang"  are  often  distressing  to  see — two  brothers,  Jack 
and  Charley,  being  "waik,"  fight  through  the  whole  day — the 
cruel  treatment  of  the  lads  by  the   "  heedsmen,"  with  the  various 

occurrences  which  produce  strife  and  stoppage  through  the  day 

the  trapper,  after  some  time  earning  fivepence  a-day,  now  becomes 
the  attendant  of  the  overman  or  deputy,  and  increases  his  wages  to 
sixpence,  by  carrying  the  axe  and  handsaw — properly  equipped, 
he  next  becomes  a  "  putter" — the  misery  of  "  putting"  in  the  olden 
time,  with  reflections  upon  it — nearly  as  bad  as  West  Indian 
slavery — tho  great  improvement  made  in  this,  then  the  most  slavish 
part  of  a  pitman's  life,  by  the  introduction  of  cast  metal  wheels  and 
plates  for  the  tram-ways — is  now  bound  for  a  "  half ■  marrow,"  and 
the  next  year  gets  a  set  of  "  geer,"  and  begins  to  "  hew" — the  im- 
provement in  hewing,  by  tile  application  of  gunpowder,  which  in 
former  times  was  only  used  to  blast  stone — remarks  on  the  hardships 


22  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

of  a  pitman's  life,  with  a  bint  that  the  Devil  must  have  heen  the 
author  of  it— a  wish  expressed  that  the  "great"  would  consider  the 
pitmen's  case  —the  appalling  miseries  they  are  subject  to  from  fire  and 
water — and  a  hope  entertained  that  some  amelioration  might  be 
effected,  by  the  application  of  steam,  now  the  grand  operator  in  almost 
every  department  of  labour — conclusion— the  pleasure  of  having 
lived  honest  lives — the  immorality  of  the  higher  classes — and  the 
consolation  at  the  end  on  reviewing  a  well-spent  life. 


We'll  now  return,  a  peep  to  take 

At  what  John  Barleycorn  had  done  : 

Attempt  a  faint  outline  to  make 
Of  all  his  feats  and  all  his  fun. 

The  remnant  left 's  a  motley  crew — 
The  din  they  make  a  perfect  Babel — 

Contending  who  the  most  can  hew, 

With  thump  for  thump  upon  the  table. 

The  unsnuff  d  lights  are  now  burnt  low, 
And  dimly  in  their  sockets  sweeling ; 

Whilst  pots  and  glasses,  at  each  blow, 
Are  quickly  off  the  table  reeling. 

There  's  drouthy  Tommy1  in  the  nook, 
For  suction  hard  his  elbow  shaking ; 

And  PniLiP,2  up  from  Derwent  Crook, 
Remarks  the  very  drollest  making. 

There 's  Dick3  that  married  Barbara  Bland, 
More  famous  far  for  drink  than  hewing ; 

And  Peel,4  as  drunk  as  he  can  stand, 
Reeling  and  dancing  like  a  new  un. 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  23 

He  barely  can  his  balance  keep, 

Yet  still  he  's  "  Play  up,  fiddler  !"  roaring ; 
But  Tommy  having  dropt  asleep, 

Jack  foots  away  to  Tommy's  snoring. 

Some  wicked  wag  his  scraper  greas'd, 
And  stole  his  rosin,  (ill  betide  him!) 

But  what  his  arm  completely  seiz'd, 
Was  just  the  empty  pot  beside  him. 

Here  lay  a  stool,  and  there  a  chair, 

"With  pots  o'erturn'd,  and  glasses  broken  : 

Half-chew' d  quids  strew'd  here  and  there, 
And  pipes  no  longer  fit  for  smoking. 

And  though  the  yel's  resistless  power 

Had  silenc'd  many  a  noisy  tongue, 
Two  vet'rans  still,  'midst  dust  and  stour, 

Conn'd  o'er  the  days  when  they  were  young. 

"  Eh,  Jack  !  what  years  ha'e  passed  away 
"  Sin  we  were  trapper-lads  tegither ! 

"  "What  endless  toil,  byeth  neet  and  day, 
"  Eneugh  yen's  varry  pith  te  wither. 

"  Aw  put  the  bait-poke  on  at  eight, 

"  Wi'  sark  and  hoggers,  like  maw  brothers  ; 

"  Maw  faither  thinkin'  aw  meet  steit 
"  Ha'e  day  about  alang  wi'  others. 

"  The  neet  afore  aw  went  te  wark, 

"  A  warld  o'  wonders  cross'd  maw  brain, 

"  Through  which  they  did  se  skelp  and  yark, 
"  As  if  maw  wits  had  run  amain. 


24  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

•'  Aw  thowt  the  time  wad  ne'er  be  gyen, 
"  That  calliri -course  wad  niver  come  ; 

"  And  when  the  caller  call'd  at  yen, 
"  Aw  'd  getten  nowther  sleep  nor  slum. 

"  Aw  lap  up,  nimmel  as  a  flea 

"  Or  lop,  amang  wor  blankets  spangin' ; 
"  And  i'  the  twinklin'  of  an  e'e, 

■  Was  fairly  ower  the  bedstock  bangin'. 

"  Wor  lads,  poor  things,  were  not  se  gleg, 
"  It  tuik  some  time  te  fettle  them  : 

"  Se  stiff,  they  scarce  could  move  a  peg, 
"  And  fitter  far  te  stay  at  hyem. 

"  It  was,  ne  doubt,  a  cooen  seet, 

"  Te  see  them  hirplin'  cross  the  floor, 
•  WT  anklets  shaw'd,  and  scather'd  feet, 
"  Wi'  salve  and  ointment  plaister'd  o'er. 

"  The  duds  thrawn  on,  the  breakfast  tyen, 
"  They're  ready  for  another  start, 

"  Te  slave  for  eighteen  hours  agyen, 
"  Enough  to  rive  atwee  the  heart. 

"  Wor  low  rope  let,  a-field  we  set, 

"  The  trappiri  trade  quite  crouse  te  lairn ; 

"  Poor  mother,  pairtin'  wi'  her  pet, 

"  Cried,  '  Hinnies,  mind  maw  canny  bairn.' 

"  'Tis  mair  than  forty  years  sin  syne, 
"  Yet  this  upon  maw  mem'ry  hings, 

"  We  met  awd  Nell,  and  Cuddy's  swine,6 
"  Twee  varry  far  fra  sonsy  things. 


the  pitman's  pay.  25 

"  This  boded  ill  tiv  iv'ry  skin, 

"  And  fix'd  us  a'  like  barber's  blocks ; 

"  Yet  faither  nobbut  brack  his  shin, 
"  And  lost  bis  bran-new  backy-box. 

"  The  men  were  puttin'  in  their  picks 
"  When  we  gat  there  ;  and  just  about 

"  The  time  we  gat  maw  faither's  six 
"  Put  in,  the  first  were  luikin'  out. 

"  Aw  star'd  at  iv'ry  thing  aw  saw, 

"  For  iv'ry  thing  was  new  te  me  ; 
"  And  when  wor  turn  te  gan  belaw 

"  Was  come,  aw  went  on  Deddy's  knee. 

"  They  popp'd  us  iv  a  jiffy  down, 

"  Through  smoke,  and  styth,  and  swelt'rin'  heat ; 
"  And  often  sj>innin'  roun'  and  roun', 

"  Just  like  a  geuss  upon  a  speet. 

"  We're  gaun  te  get  a  geuss  te  morn, 
"  There's  nowse  aw  get  aw  like  se  weel, 

"Efter  they're  grown,  wi'  stubble  corn, 
"  As  fat  and  plump  as  ony  seal. 

"  Aw  like  her  stuff'd  wi'  onions  best, 

"  And  roasted  tiv  a  single  roun', 
"  A'  nicely  scrimpt  frae  back  te  breast — 

"  Not  brunt,  but  beautifully  brown. 

"  Of  a'  the  kinds  o'  hollow  meats 

"  That  greasy  cuicks  se  oft  are  speetin', 

"  There's  nyen  aw  tyest  that  iver  beats 
"  A  geuss,  the  yess  o'  trumps  o'  eatin'. 

E 


26  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

"  She  myeks  a  real  royal  dish, 

a  On  which  a  king  meet  myek  a  myel : 

"  Aw  wadn't  for  a  better  wish, 
"  Were  aw  te  morn  a  king  mysel'. 

"  The  oddments,  tee,  beat  boil  or  fry, 
"  Provided  geussy  be  a  good  un — 

"  Eat  famous  in  a  giblet  pie, 

"  Cribb'd  roun'  wi'  coils  o'  savoury  puddin'. 

"  But  stop  !  where  was  aw,  thinks  te,  Jack, 
"  When  aw  began  this  wild-geuss  chase  ? 

"  It  surely  was  a  good  way  back  : 
"  Let's  try  te  recollect  the  place. 

"  We  'd  pass'd  the  meetin's,  aw  've  ne  doubt : 
"  Indeed,  aw  think  we  'd  reach'd  the  bottom, 

"  Efter  they  'd  bumm'd  us  roun'  about, 
"  For  a'  the  warld  like  a  teetotum. 

"  Wor  nose  within  the  barn-styen  set, 
"  We  stevell'd  te  the  cabin,  where 

"  The  men  and  lads  their  cannels  get, 
"  The  seat  o'  power  and  pitmen's  lare. 

"  The  durdum  now  there's  nowse  can  beat : 
"  '  Haud,  Dicky,  till  aw  get  a  chow  !' 

"  '  Here,  aw  say,  Willy,  gie  's  a  leet !' 
"  '  Dick,  damn  ye,  had  aboot  a  low !' 

"  '  Come,  hinny,  Barty,  len's  a  hand 
"  <  On  wi'  maw  corf !'     '  Ye  snotty  dog, 

"  '  Put  in  yor  tram,  and  dinnet  stand 

"  '  There,  squeekin'  like  a  half-ring'd  hog !' 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  27 

"  The  lads  are  huntin'  for  their  trams — 
"  The  hewers  for  their  picks  and  clay — 

"  The  heedsman  little  Dicky  damns 
"  And  blasts,  for  gettin'  off  the  way. 

"  In  bye  they  bumm'd  me  in  a  crack, 
"  And  left  me  i'  maw  faither's  board, 

"  "Where  he  was  buffin'  at  a  back 

"  As  hard  as  whinstone,  by  the  Lord. 

"  He  bray'd  away  byeth  lang  and  sair, 
"  Before  the  stannin'  corf  was  hew'd  : 

"  "Was  droppin'  sweet  frae  iv 'ry  hair, 
"  And  hidden  iv  a  reeky  cloud. 

"  For  what  he  gat  was  varry  sma', 

"  Frae  out  the  kirvens  and  the  nickens ; 

"  The  myest  of  which  was  left  belaw, 

"  The  rest  like  crums  for  feedin'  chickens. 

"  When  Dicky's  corf  was  fill'd  wi'  sic, 
"  He  let  his  low,  and  stuck  't  agyend — 

"  Ax'd  Deddy  te  lay  down  his  pick, 
"  And  help  him  te  the  heedwis  end. 

"  Suin  efter  he  gat  crept  outbye, 

"  And  me  set  down  ahint  maw  door, 

"  Joe  had  the  wark  a  cut  and  dry, 
"  And  ettled  reet  for  iv'ry  hewer. 

"  This  was  not  a' ways  eas'ly  duin, 

"  As  oft  they  turn'd  out  kittle  maiters, 

"  Myest  like  an  eclipse  o'  the  muin 
"  Te  wor  poor  cabin  calculators. 


2S  THE  pitman's  pay. 

"  Aw  think  aw  see  poor  Peter  now 
"Bamboozlin'  on  for  hours  tegither, 

"  Cursin'  a  roun'  him  black  and  blue, 
"  And  fit  te  fight  wiv  ony  feather. 

"There  could  not  be  a  richer  treat 
"  Than  seein'  Peter  at  a  pinch ; 

"  For  as  he  blurr'd  his  wooden  sheet, 
"  His  temper  left  him  inch  by  inch. 

"  Oft'  went  his  specks — the  sweet  ran  down 
"  A  fyece  wi'  botheration  curst — 

"  His  wig  gawn  like  a  pointer  roun', 
"  Now  quite  awry,  then  backside  furst. 

"  The  baitin',  tee,  was  deev'lish  gallin' — 
"  Rogues  axin'  if  he  'd  hev  a  clerk  ; 

"  Or  in  his  lug  for  iver  bawlin', 

"  '  Man,  will  ye  niver  place  the  wark  ?' 

"  Aw  've  seen  him  i'  this  muddled  mess, 
"  Click  up  his  chalk  and  wooden  buick, 

"  Hissell,  the  pictur  o'  distress, 

"  Hidden  ahint  some  awd  wa  nuik6 — 

"  Where  like  a  cunjurur  he  'd  sit, 

"  His  black  airt  at  some  cantrips  tryin', 

"  Till  he  gat  iv'ry  pairt  te  fit, 

"  Then  sally  forth  the  dogs  defyin'. 

"  The  wark  now  placed,  and  pit  hung  on, 
"The  heedsmen,  whether  duin  or  nut, 

"  Mun  iv'ry  man  and  mother's  son 
"  Lay  doon  the  pick  and  start  te  put. 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  29 

':  Now  then  the  bitter  strife  begins, 
"  All  pullin',  hawlin',  pushin',  drivin', 

"  'Mang  blood  and  dirt  and  broken  shins, 
"  The  waik  uns  wi'  the  Strang  uns  strivin'. 

"  Aw  mind  a  tram  byeth  Avaik  and  slaw, 
"  Just  streen'd  te  rags  te  keep  her  gannin', 

"  Frae  hingin -on  till  howdy-maw, 

"  Ye  hardly  knew  if  gawn  or  stannin'. 

"  Just  pinch'd  te  deeth,  they  're  tarn  and  snarly, 
"  A'  yammerin'  on  frae  morn  till  neet — 

"  Jack  off  the  way,  blackgairdin'  Charley, 
kt  For  at  the  corf  nut  lyin'  reet. 

"  While  Charley  damns  Jack's  hoolet  e'en, 
"  His  hick'ry  fyece  and  endless  growl ; 

"  And  sweers,  if  he  agyen  compleen, 

"  He  '11  splet  his  nell-kneed,  wall-eyed  soul. 

"  A  shower  o'  coals  wi'  vengeance  hurl'd, 
"•Suin  rattl'd  roun'  the  lugs  o'  Jack, 

"  Wi'  threets  he  'd  te  the  tother  world 
"  Dispatch  him  sprawlin'  iv  a  crack. 

"  Jack  didn't  like  the  journey  then, 
"  And  tried  te  shun  the  deedly  blast 

"  Ity  joukin'  down — nor  show'd  agyeu 
"  His  fyece  till  a'  was  ower  and  past. 

"  The  bits  o'  lads  are  badly  us'd — 

"  The  heedsmen  often  run  them  blind — 

"They're  kick'd  and  cuff'd,  and  beat  and  bruis'd, 
"  And  sometimes  drop  for  want  o'  wind. 


30  THE    PITMAN  S    PAV. 

"  Sic,  then.,  was  the  poor  putter's  fate, 
"  Wi'  now  and  then  a  stannin'  fray, 

11  Frae  yokens,  cawd  pies,  stowen  bait, 
"  Or  cowp'd  corves  i'  the  barrow  way. 

"  Aw  tuik  for  some  time  day  about, 

"  And  when  aw  wrought,  rayed  fippence  sure  ; 

"  Besides  full  mony  a  curse  and  cloot 
"  Aw  gat  for  sleepin'  at  the  door. 

"  A  better  berth  turn'd  up  at  last — 
"  The  wages  still  but  varry  sma' — 

"  For  sixpence  did  not  seem  a  vast 
"  For  carry  in  Lukey's  aix  and  saw. 

"  But,  then,  at  half-wark  aw  was  duin, 
"  And  niver  hardly  gat  maw  thumps ; 

"  Yet  he  was  kittle — out  o'  tune — 

"  And  often  gar'd  me  stur  maw  stumps. 

"  Wi'  grease-horn  ower  maw  shouthers  slung, 
"  And  pockets  stuff' d  wi'  waxy  clay, 

"  Wi'  half-shoon  at  maw  bait-poke  hung, 
"  Just  fit  me  for  the  barrow- way. 

"  Aw  neist  tuik  Dummy  by  the  lug, 

"  The  putter's  purgatory  here, 
"  At  which  they  daily  toil  and  tug, 

"  Blackgairded  by  some  growlin'  bear. 

"  Whene'er  aw  Dan  the  Deevil  had — 
"  Or  some  sic  hell-hound — for  a  marrow, 

"  Maw  life,  aw  's  sure,  was  full  as  bad 
"  As  ony  tyed's  belaw  a  harrow. 


THE    PITMANS    PAY.  3 J 

;<  The  slav'ry  borne  by  Blackyinoors 

;'  They  've  lang  been  ringin'  i'  wor  ears  ; 

"  But  let  them  tyek  a  luik  at  wors, 
"  And  tell  us  which  the  warst  appears. 

"  If  onJ,  then,  o'  Blacky's  race 

"  Ha'e  harder  cairds  than  wors  te  play, 

'  Why,  then,  poor  dogs,  ower  hard  's  their  case, 
"  And  truth  s  in  what  wor  preachers  say. 

'<  Thou  knaws  for  weeks  aw  've  gyen  away 

"  At  twee  o'clock  o'  Monday  mornin, 
"  And  niver  seen  the  leet  o'  day 
"  Until  the  Sabbath  day  s  returnin'. 

"But  then,  thou  knaws,  Jack,  we  are  free; 

"  And  though  we  work  as  nyek'd  as  them, 
"  We  're  not  sell'd  inte  slavery, 

"  Far,  far  away  frae  frinds  and  hyem  ! 

'  Yet  was  aw  at  the  point  o'  deein', 

"  And  meet  maw  life  leeve  ower  agyen, 
"  Aw  wadn't,  Jack,  aw  think,  be  'greein', 
;c  Unless  this  pairt  was  out  on  't  tyen. 

•'  For  what 's  in  sic  a  life  worth  hevin', 

"  Still  toilin',  moilin',  niver  duin, 
•  Where  the  bit  good  weighs  not  a  shavin', 
'  The  load  of  bad  a  thousand  ton. 

"  But  heavy  puttin  's  now  forgetten, 

"  Sic  as  we  had  i'  former  days, 
"  Ower  holey  thill  and  dyels  a'  splettin':— 
'  Trams  now  a'  run  on  metal  ways.7 


32  the  pitman's  pay. 

"  This  was  the  wark  for  tryin'  mettle — 

"  Here  ivry  tuil  his  level  fand  : 
"  Sic  tussels  nobbut  pluck  could  settle, 

l'  For  nowse  less  could  the  racket  staud. 

"  And  had  wor  bits  o'  yammerin'  yeps, 
"  That  wowl  about  wor  barrow- way, 

1-1  Te  slave  and  drudge  like  langsyne  cheps, 
"  They  wadn't  worsel  out  a  day. 

"  God  bliss  the  man  wi'  peace  and  plenty, 
"  That  furst  invented  metal  plates ! 

"  Draw  out  his  years  te  five  times  twenty, 
"  Then  slide  him  through  the  heevenly  gates. 

"  For  if  the  human  frame  te  spare 

"  Frae  toil  and  pain  ayont  conceivin', 

"  Ha'e  ought  te  de  wi'  gettin'  there, 

"  Aw  think  he  mun  gan  strite  te  heeven. 

"  Aw  neist  te  half  a  tram  was  bun, 
"  But  gat  a  marrow  gruff  and  sour. 

"  A  heedsman,  then,  they  myed  me,  suin  ; 
"  And  efter  that,  a  puttin'-hewer. 

"  Another  lang  and  slavish  year 

"  At  last  aw  fairly  struggled  through  : 

"  Gat  fettled  up  a  set  o'  geer — 

"  Was  thowt  a  man,  and  bun  te  hew. 

"  This  myed  me  maister  for  mysel', 
"  Wi'  shorter  wark  and  better  pays  ; 

"  And  at  maw  awn  hand  didn't  fyel 
"  Te  suin  get  bits  o'  canny  claes.8 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  38 

"  Here,  agyen,  had  awd  langsynera 

"  Mony  a  weary,  warkin'  byen, 
"  Now  unknawn  te  coaly-Tyners, 

"  A'  bein'  mell-and- wedge  wark  then.9 

"  Aw've  bray'd  for  hours  at  woody10  coal, 

"  Wi'  airms  myest  droppin'  frae  the  shouther ; 

"  But  now  they  just  pop  in  a  hole, 

"  And  flap  her  doun  at  yence  wi'  pouther. 

"  A  '  back'  or  '  knowe'11  sometimes,  'tis  true, 
"  Set  doon  maw  top  wi'  ease  eneugh ; 

"  But  oftener  far  we  had  te  tew 
"  On  wi'  a  nasty,  scabby  reuf.12 

"  Here's  just  a  swatch  of  pitmen's  life, 
"  Frae  bein'  breek'd  till  fit  te  marry : 

"A  scene. o'  ceaseless  pain  and  strife, 

"  Hatch'd  by  wor  deedly  foe,  Awd  Harry  : 

"  For  there's  ne  imp  iv  a'  his  hell 
"  That  could  sic  tortur  hev  invented : 

"  It  mun  ha'e  been  Awd  Nicky's  sel — 
"  He  likes  te  see  us  se  tormented. 

"  Then  ye  that  sleep  on  beds  o'  doon, 

"  An'  niver  Jack  the  Caller  dreedin'-— 

"  Gan  finely  clad  the  hyell  year  roun', 
"  And  a' ways  upon  dainties  feedin' — 

"  Think  on  us,  hinnies,  if  ye  please, 

"  An  it  were  but  te  show  yor  pity ; 
"  For  a'  the  toils  and  tears  it  gi'es, 

"  Te  warm  the  shins  o'  Lunnun  city. 


84  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

"  The  fiery  '  blast'  cuts  short  wor  lives, 
"  And  steeps  wor  hyems  in  deep  distress  ; 

"  Myeks  widows  o'  wor  canny  wives, 
"  And  a'  wor  bairns  leaves  faitherless. 

"  The  wait'ry  '  wyest',13  mair  dreedful  still, 

"  Alive  oft  barries  lmz  belaw  : 
"  O  dear  !  it  myeks  yen's  blood  run  chill ! 

"  May  we  sic  mis'ry  niver  knaw  ! 

"  Te  be  cut  off  frae  kith  and  kin, 
"  The  leet  o'  day  te  see  ne  mair, 

"  And  left  frae  help  and  hope  shut  in, 
"  Te  pine  and  parish  in  despair  ! 

"  If  ye  could  on'y  tyek  a  view, 

"  And  see  the  sweet  frae  off  us  poorin' — 

"  The  daily  dangers  we  gan  through, 
"  The  daily  hardships  we  're  endurin' — 

"  Ye  wad  send  doon,  aw  ha'e  ne  doubt, 

"  Some  cheps  on  what  they  call  a  '  mission,' 

"  Te  try  if  they  could  ferret  out 

"  Somethin  te  better  wor  condition. 

"  They  wad,  wi'  layin'  their  brains  asteep, 
"  Suin  hit  upon  some  happy  scheme, 

"  (Which  meet  be  duin,  aw  think,  quite  cheap,) 
"  Te  myek  us  kirve  and  nick  by  steam. 

"  Wor  factories  now  gan  a'  by  steamin', 
"  Steam  gars  wor  boats  and  packets  sail ; 

"  And  now,  they  say,  they're  busy  schemin 
"  Te  myek  him  run  the  Lunnun  mail  !M 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  35 

"  How  nice  and  funny  it  wad  be, 

"  Te  sit  and  see  yen's  jud  myed  riddy ; 

"  For  then  we'd  ha'e  nowt  else  te  de 

"  But  get  his  geer  sharp'd  at  the  sniiddy. 

"  He  grunds  the  corn  te  myek  Avor  breed, 

"He  boils  wor  soup  (yence  thought  a  dream)  : 

"  Begock  !  aw's  often  flay'd  te  deed 

"  They'll  myek  us  eat  and  sleep  by  steam  ! 

"  A'  this  he  diz  wi'  parfet  ease, 

"  (The  stiog  o'  gallin'  labour  pouin')  : 

"Then,  hinny  maisters,  if  ye  please, 
"  Just  let  Mm  try  his  hand  at  hewin'. 

"  Eh,  man  !  aw  's  dry  :  hand  here  the  pot : 
"  Aw 's  just  wi'  talkin'  fit  te  gyzen  ; 

"  Nor  will  maw  tougue  move  on  a  jot — 
"  It 's  dry  wark,  varry,  moralizin'. 

"  Then  reach  thy  hand,  awd  honest  truth, 
"  An  let  me  gied  a  hearty  shakin' ; 

"  An'  may  the  frindship  o'  wor  youth 
"  Be  ne'er  in  hirplin'  age  forsaken. 

"  And  may  the  bairns  o'  byeth  wor  hyems 
"  Prove  '  honest  men  and  bonny  lasses  :' 

•'  The  former  handin'  doon  wor  nyems, 
"  As  patterns  te  the  workin'  classes  : 

"  The  lasses  choosin'  sober  men, 

"  But  seldom  seen  the  warse  o'  nappy  : 

"  Blyth,  kind,  and  good  tiv  i\Ty  yen, 
"  And  myekin'  a'  about  them  happy. 


36  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

"  It  is  nut  geer  that  mycks  the  man, 

"  Nor  fine  broad  claith  the  cliver  fellow  : 

"  A  full's  a  fail,  howiver  gran' — 

"  The  pouther'd  pyte  is  often  shallow. 

"  For  happiness  is  not  confin'd 

"  Te  folks  in  halls  or  cassels  leevin' ; 
*        "  And  if  wor  lives  be  good,  ye'll  mind 

"  There  '11  nyen  ax  how  we  gat  te  heeven. 

"  "We  labour  hard  te  myek  ends  meet, 
"  Which  baffles  oft  the  gentry's  schemin' ; 

"  And  though  wor  sleep  be  short,  it 's  sweet, 
"Whilst  they're  on  bums  and  bailies  dreamin'. 

"  There  is  a  charm  aw  cannot  nyem, 

"  That's  little  knawn  te  quality  : 
"  Ye'll  find  it  in  the  happy  hyem 

"  Of  honest-hearted  poverty. 

"  Yor  high-flown  cheps  oft  fyel  and  brick, 
"  But  we  hev  a' ways  yet  been  yable 

"  Te  keep  the  wheelband  i'  the  nick, 
"  Though  oft  wi'  but  a  barish  tyeble. 

"  O  dear  !  but  they  lead  wicked  lives, 
"  If  a'  be  true  that's  i'  the  papers  : 

"  Oft  kissin'  yen  another's  wives, 
"  And  cuttin'  other  idle  capers. 

"  They  run  up  debts  they  cannot  pay — 
"  "Whiles  pay  off  Paul  wi'  robbin'  Peter  ; 

"  But,  thank  God,  Jack,  there's  nyen  can  say 
"  We  iver  wrang'd  a  leevin'  creatur. 


the  pitman's  pay.  37 

"  Aw  dinnet  mean  te  brag  o'  this — 
"  It 's  but  the  way  we  a'  should  treed ; 

"  But  where  the  greet  se  often  miss, 
"  We  may  luick  up  when  we  succeed. 

"  For,  raither  sic  disgrace  te  share, 
"  An'  bring  a  stain  upon  wor  freends, 

"  We'd  wark,  on  breed-an' -waiter  fare, 
"  Till  blood  drops  frae  wor  finger  ends. 

"  Besides,  when  a'  is  fadin'  fast 

"  That  cheer'd  the  droopin'  spirits  here — 
"  When  we  luick  backwards  at  the  past, 

"  Te  see  how  we  '11  at  last  appear — 

"  'Twill  form  a  breet  and  sunny  place 

"  On  which  the  mind  may  rest  wi'  pleasur ; 

"  An'  then  de  mair  te  help  wor  case, 

"  Than  hoarded  heaps  o'  yearthly  treasur." 


NOTES. 

1  Tommv  Coulson,  a  stone-mason,  and  performer  on  the  violin, 
who  lived  at  Cow  Close,  and  attended  on  all  occasions  of  merry- 
making. He  was,  like  many  others  of  the  same  craft,  a  "  drouthy 
crony,"  and  seldom  left  the  scene  of  his  labours  as  long  as  a  "  plack" 
remained  in  his  pocket.  If  he  attended  a  merry  night  at  a  public 
house  on  the  Saturday  evening,  he  was  sure  to  be  found  there  on  the 


38  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

Monday  morning,  and  perhaps  longer.  There  are  several  anecdotes 
told  of  him,  arising  out  of  his  love  of  "  suction."  Amongst  others  is 
the  following  : — He  had  either  been  balloted  for  the  Militia,  or  entered 
as  a  substitute,  in  one  of  his  drunken  frolics.  The  regiment  had 
been  some  time  at  a  distance;  and  Tommy,  having  a  wish  to  see  his 
wife  Mally,  obtained,  on  some  pretext  or  other,  a  furlough,  and  wrote 
Mally  that  abcut  such  a  time  she  might  expect  him.  The  time 
appointed  passed  over,  but  Tommy  never  appeared.  Day  after  day 
she  expected  to  see  Tommy,  but  no  Tommy  came.  At  length  she 
received  a  message,  saying  that  he  was  at  a  public,  house,  at  about 
half  a  mile  distance,  and  that  if  she  wanted  to  see  her  husband,  she 
must  come  soon  to  him,  as  his  furlough  was  now  up,  and  he  had  not 
time  to  come  to  her. 

2  Philip  Short  was  a  pitman,  and  died  an  old  man,  in  Gateshead 
poor-house,  in  the  summer  of  1834.  He  was  a  regular  "  droll;'*  and 
when  Barleycorn  had  operated  a  little  upon  him,  he  was  the  source 
of  much  amusement  to  the  company. 

3  Dick  Taylor,  a  pitman,  was  only  famous  as  having  married 
Barbara  Eland,  the  daughter  of  old  Nell  Bland,  the  only  real 
witch  we  had  on  the  Low  Fell.  Nell  was  one  of  the  party  that  was 
watch' ng  the  corpse  of  Tom  Forster  the  first  time  ho  died,  and  had 
her  arm  broken  by  being  tumbled  heels  over  head  downstairs  at  his 
resurrection;  for,  be  it  known,  contrary  to  established  usage,  poor 
Tom  died  twice.  After  he  made  his  exit  the  first  time,  and  was  laid 
out  a  decent  corpse,  the  neighbours,  as  is  customary  on  such  occasions, 
were  sitting  up  in  the  same  room  with  the  body,  and  holding  what  they 
call  a  "  Lake  Wake ;"  when,  to  their  utter  astonishment,  they  per- 
ceived the  corpse  gradually  raising  its  head,  until  it  sat  upright.  In 
a  moment  the  room  was  cleared,  and  the  whole  company,  that  had 
been  the  instant  before  enjoying  themselves  in  cracking  jokes  and 
telling  stories,  were  tumbling  one  over  the  other  down-stairs;  and 
more,  it  is  said,  than  poor  Nell,  came  off  with  broken  bones.  Tom 
lived  many  years  after  this,  and,  when  he  really  died,  was  an  old 
man. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  39 

4  Jack  Peel  was  a  pitman,  and  also  a  "  theater,"  a  business  of 
some  note  when  the  cottages  on  the  Fell  were  all  covered  with  "  divots," 
but  now  extinct,  since  the  common  was  enclosed.  He  was  a  hard- 
working man,  and  carried  on  his  "  theakiug"  operations  after  his 
day's  work  in  the  pit  was  finished.  As  he  made  a  good  deal  of  money, 
he  could  afford  to  indulge  in  an  extra  glass. 

5  Pitmen  consider  it  unlucky  to  meet  a  woman  or  a  pig  on  their  way 
to  work :  of  course  they  are  on  the  look-out  through  the  day  for  some 
untoward  event,  when  that  has  been  the  case.  That  it  always  happens 
so,  is  more  than  T  can  vouch  for,  but  there  is  no  rule  without  exceptions. 

6  Such  cases  were  not  uncommon  formerly,  and  this  is  true  to  the 
letter;  but  since  the  schoolmaster  came  abroad,  they  have  no  doubt 
been  less  frequent. 

7  Previous  to  this,  bringing  out  the  coals  to  the  crane  or  shaft,  or 
what  is  called  "  putting,"  was  the  most  distressing  slavery.  It  was 
generally  performed  by  boys,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  too  weak  for  the 
purpose— if  even  the  materials  had  been  better  tban  they  were,  over 
which  the  trams  then  passed.  What,  then,  must  it  have  been,  when 
a  beech  board  was  a  godsend  ?  And,  more  frequently,  they  had  to 
drag  their  load  over  a  fir  deal  or  the  bare  "  thill,"  the  former  too  often 
split  from  constant  wear,  and  the  latter  too  soft  to  bear  the  load  passing 
over  it.  Now,  the  whole  way  is  laid  with  metal  plates,  even  up  to 
the  face  of  the  workings,  so  that  a  man  or  lad  may  run  the  tram  before 
him  both  out  and  in,  the  plates  being  so  formed  as  to  keep  the  tram 
in  a  right  direction.  This  important  improvement  made  quite  a  revo- 
lution in  "putting,"  and  enabled  one  to  effect  with  comparative  ease 
what  formerly  required  the  most  intense  labour  of  two — a  headsman 
and  a  lad . 

8  When  a  young  man  commences  hewing,  it  is  no  uncommon  thing 
for  him  to  take  his  earnings  into  his  own  management,  giving  his 
parents  a  certain  weekly  sum  for  his  board ;  or,  if  the  parties  cannot 
agree  on  this  point,  he  takes  lodgings  at  some  neighbour's,  where  he 


40  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

finds  his  own  victuals,  and  pays  so  much  a  week  for  lodging  and 
attendance.  This  is  called  "picklin'  in  his  awn  poke  neuck."  It 
does  not  unfrequently  happen  that  he  pitches  his  tent  where  the 
daughter  of  the  house  ultimately  becomes  his  wife.  This  is  often  the 
real  attraction  that  draws  him  from  home,  though  a  very  different  one 
may  be  pretended. 

9  This  alludes  to  the  present  practice  of  shooting  down  the  "jud" 
or  "  top"  with  powder,  instead  of  bringing  it  down  with  '•  wedges," 
as  formerly.  In  drifting  in  stone,  powder  was  always  used,  but  in 
coal  only  in  late  years.  In  hewing,  this  is  as  great  an  improvement 
and  saving  of  labour,  as  metal  plates  are  in  putting. 

10  Tough,  and  difficult  to  separate. 

ii  Partings  in  the  coal,  which  set  the  "jud"  down  with  little  trouble, 
after  the  "kirving"  and  "nicking"  are  completed — sometimes  even 
before. 

12  "  Scabby  roof,"  is  where  the  coal  does  not  part  freely  from  the 
stone  at  the  top. 

13  By  the  Heaton  catastrophe  of  the  3rd  of  May,  1815,  7-5  persons 
(41  men,  and  34  boys,)  lost  their  lives,  together  with  the  whole  stock 
of  horses  which  were  in  the  pit  at  the  time.  For  the  details,  see 
Syhes's  Local  Records. 

14  This  has  already  been  effected. 


END  OF  PART  SECOND. 


THE  PITMAN'S  PAY. 


PART    THIRD. 


Our  hero,  now  a  inan,  begins  to  take  some  pains  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  the  lasses — his  great  agility — his  dancing  and  musical 
acquirements — a  description  of  his  dress,  with  its  powerful  effect 
upon  the  fair  sex — how  much  the  girls  contribute  to  our  happiness — 
the  many  eyes  that  were  upon  him,  and  the  means  taken  by  Sall 
to  "catch"  him — a  description  of  her  dress,  and  how  she  completed 
her  conquest — her  consent  obtained,  with  the  difficulties  attending 
getting  that  of  her  parents — Saturday  night  fixed  for  the  attempt, 
with  the  many  reasons  for  this  being  the  fittest  time  for  carrying  a 
knotty  point — his  dropping  in  about  bed-time — Nell  at  her  last 
pipe,  and  Jack,  dozing  in  his  chair — his  reception  by  the  old  lady, 
with  her  complaints  on  the  badness  of  the  times,  and  her  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  Smith  on  the  cause  of  things  being  so  dear — Jack 
awake — his  determination  to  exterminate  the  Yankees — a  serious 
altercation  on  this  subject  between  his  wife  and  him — our  hero's 
uncertainty  whether  this  squall,  with  the  high  prices  of  tea,  sugar, 
and  "backy,"  would  assist  or  obstruct  him  in  the  point  he  wished 
to  carry — Jack's  salutation  and  Will's  reply,  with  the  great  diffi. 
culty  he  had  in  telling  him  his  errand — Nell  thinks  Ihem  both 
too  young,  and  gives  various  reasons  why  they  should  waitawhite' — 
his  reply,  and  their  consent — his  great  joy  at  his  success,  and  the 
clinching  the  bargain  by  a  jug  of  Geordy's  "best" — everything 
now  canvassed  and  fixed,  from  the  "  calling  to  church"  fo  the  name 

0 


Al  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

of  the  first  bairn,  with  each  a  glass  of  rum  from  Jack's  privati 
bottle  at  parting — reflections  on  time,  with  some  remarks  on  wed- 
dings at  that  period — regret  expressed  that  all  our  old  customs, 
founded  on  the  "  wisdom  of  our  ancestors,"  should  be  done  away, 
and  fear  that  our  present  new-fangled  notions  will  ultimately  prove 
our  ruin — "  riding  the  stang"  after  marriage,  with  its  object — a 
"  good  drink" — Sally,  to  his  great  surprise,  brings  him  twins — 
considered  very  lucky,  from  his  being  made  a  "  shifter"  soon,  and 
a  "  deputy"  after — his  description  of  his  learning,  and  how  he  got 
it — the  christening  of  Jacky  and  Bobby — particulars  of  that  im- 
portant day,  with  a  comparison  between  the  substantials  given  on 
such  occasions  then,  to  the  flimsy  materials  now — frequency  of 
christenings — lots  of  bairns,  with  always  enough  to  give  them — 
thankfulness  for  this — the  bairns  getting  up,  and  old  age  creeping 
on,  with  a  hope  when  death  comes  Sall  and  He  maj  be  found 
ready — the  rising  sun  and  the  empty  quart  admonish  the  alehouse 
party  to  go— the  reckoning  called,  and  they  depart. 


Aw  now  began  te  corl  maw  hair, 

"  (For  corls  and  tails1  were  then  the  go,) 

"  Te  clean  maw  een  wi  greeter  care, 
"  And  smarten  up  frae  top  te  toe. 

"  For  then  aw'd  mettle  i'  maw  heels, 
"  A  five-bar  yett  was  nowt  te  me : 

"  Could  bang  them  a'  at  threesome  reels, 
"  And  tip  a  hornpipe  tiv  a  tee. 

••  Aw  ne'er  was  fond  of  figurin'  off, 
"  Yit  sometimes,  at  a  murry  neet, 

"  In  spite  of  iv'ry  feckless  scoff, 
"  Aw  gav  wor  lasses'  een  a  treat. 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  43 

"  The  crack  o'  whuslers  i'  maw  day, 
"  Maw  gewgaw  touch  was  te  the  life  ; 

"  And  at  yen  time,  'could  nearly  play 
"  '  God  sye\r  the  King'  upon  the  fife  ! 

'  Maw  shinin'  coat  o'  glossy  blue, 

"  Lapell'd,  and  lined  wi'  breet  shalloon — 
"Maw  posy  jacket,  a'  bran  new, 

"  Just  figur'd  like  maw  mother's  goon — 

"  Maw  breeks  o'  bonny  velveteen — 
"  Maw  stockin's  clock'd  a'  up  the  leg — 

"  Maw  nice  lang-quartered  shoon  se  clean, 
"  And  buckles  real  tyuth-an'-egg2 — 

"  Ga'  me  the  shape  and  air  o'  yen 

"  O'  raither  bettermer  condition  ; 
"  And  gar'd  the  jades  a'  girn  agyen — 

"  A  glance  frae  me  was  quite  sufficien'. 

"  Like  ony  chicken  efter  moot, 

"  When  its  awd  coat  it  fairly  casses, 

"  Aw  swagger'd  then  ;  for  maw  new  suit 
"  Play'd  harlikin  amang  the  lasses. 

"  Amang  them  aw  wad  a' ways  be  : 

"  Aw  cutter'd  (canny  things !)  about  'em, 

"  And  varry  suin  began  te  see 

"  Life  wad  be  varry  wairch  without  'em. 

"  They  help  us  up  its  rugged  hills — 

"  Soothe  and  support  in  toil  and  trouble — 

"  Share  wiv  us  a'  its  thousand  ills, 
"  And  a'  its  pleasure  fairly  double. 


U  THE    PITMAN  S   PAY. 

"  Mony  a  '  cap'  was  cock'd  te  catch  me  : 

"  Gleg  was  mony  a  wily  e'e  : 
"  Mony  a  mother  wish'd  te  match  me — 

"  They  a'  could  fit  me  tiv  a  tee. 

"  Wor  lasses  then  were  blythe  and  bonny, 
"  And  blythe  and  bonny  yit  they  are  ; 

"  But  then  or  now,  aw  ne'er  saw  ony 
"  Could  wi'  maw  bonny  Sall  compare. 

"  At  church  o'  Sundays  smartly  drest, 
"  She  often  gav  wor  hearts  a  warmin', 

"  For  nowt  could  stand  her  length  o'  wyest — 
"  And  then  the  peak  ahint,  how  charmin' ! 

"  Her  twilted  pettikit  se  fine, 

"  Frae  side  te  side  a  fathom  stritchin', 

"  A'  stitch'd  wi'  mony  a  fancied  line, 
"  Wad  stan'  itsel',  and  was  bewitchin'. 

"  Her  high-heel'd  shoon,  wi'  buckles  breet — 
"  Her  heed-geer  a'  iv  ample  order — 

"  Her  toppin'  pinn'd  and  padded  neat — 
"  Her  lappets  and  her  three-ply  border — 

"  Just  set  maw  heart  a  pitty-pat, 
"  And  put  me  iv  a  fearful  swither  ; 

"  But  when  her  '  Robin  Gray'3  she  gat, 
"  She  carried  heart  and  a  thegither. 

"  Aw  then  could  had  ne  langer  out, 

"  And  Sall's  consent  was  blythely  granted  ; 

"  But  yit  aw  wasn't  free  frae  doubt, 

"  As  still  there  was  the  awd  boy's  wanted. 


the  pitman's  pay.  45 

••  Aw  thowt  about  it  lyet  and  suin, 

"  Yit  put  it  off  frae  day  te  day  : 
••  This  time,  and  that,  it  sud  be  duin, 

"  But  at  the  push  maw  heart  gav  way. 

"  It  wasn't,  mind,  because  aw'd  rued, 
"  But  blateness  at  a  knotty  case  : — 

"  Howiver,  at  the  last  aw  screw'd 
"  Maw  courage  te  the  stickin'-place. 

"  It  shall  be  duin  this  varry  week, 

"  And  Setturday — for  this  good  reason — 

"  Is  far  the  fittest  time  te  speak 

"  On  points  that  may — or  nut — be  pleasin'  : — 

"  That  labour's  all  oppressive  load, 

"  Which  daily  rasps  us  like  a  file, 
'  Then  ceases  se  te  gall  and  goad — 

"  He  stays  his  ironairm  awhile. 

"  Besides,  aw  knaw  the  market  gill, 
"  Which  Jack  gets  a  ways  at  the  toon, 

•'  If  what  aw  said  sud  prove  a  pill, 
"  Wad  gar  it  gan  far  better  doon. 

'  This  neet,  tee,  sometimes  pleasur  brings, 

"  That  i'  the  rest  ye  lang  may  seek  ; 
"  As  then  folks  end  unsettled  things, 
"  And  wi'  the  clock  wind  up  the  week. 

"  It  is  the  on'y  yen  i'  seeven, 

•  When  pitmen  get  a  good  neet's  sleep, 
"  The  weary,  worn-out  frame  relievin  — 
"  There's  then  ne  callin'  course  te  keep.4 


4(>  THE    PITMAN  S    PAY. 

"  E'en  Care  his-sel'  unyokes  liis  plough, 
"  Whicli  owcr  the  Wow  lie's  daily  drivin', 

"And  gie's  his  nags  a  breathin'  now, 
"  Ne  langer  te  deform  us  strivin'. 

"  He  is  an  awd,  ill-throven  thief — 
"  O  !  hang  him,  ninnies,  i'  yor  lyeces  ; 

"  For  wiv  his  blear-e'ed  titty,  Grief, 
"  They  rig-and-fur  yor  bonny  fyeces 

"  The  day  cam  roun' ;  yit,  strange  tc  tell, 
"  Aw  shilly-shally'd  on  till  neet ; 

"  And  just  dropt  in  when  mother  Nell 
"  Was  gawn  her  hin'most  pipe  te  leet. 

« 'Why,  lad,  what's  set  te  here  so  lyet — 
"  '  Draw  in  a  seat,  and  cruick  thy  hough- 

"  'The  pipe's  the  on'y  thing  aw  get 
"  'That  helps  me  wi'  the  weary  cough.' 

"  Awd  Jack  was  dozin'  iv  his  chair — 
"  His  stockin's  lyin'  ower  his  knee — 

"  His  wig  hung  up  wi'  greetest  care — 
"  His  neet-cap  thrawn  on  all  aglee. 

"  Like  all  attentive,  lovin'  men, 
'* That  are  wi'  talkin'  spouses  blest, 

"  He'd  listen' d  till  he  snored  agyen, 

"  "Which  set  poor  Nelly's  tongue  at  rest. 

"  '  As  thou  cam'  in,  lad,  aw  was  sayin' 
"  '  Poor  folks  wad  nut  get  fended  suin  : 

"  '  They're  now  a  tax  on  backy  layin' — 
"  '  Aw  wonder  when  they  will  be  duin. 


hie  pitman's  pay.  47 

"  '  It  was  but  just  the  tother  day 

"  '  They  rais'd  the  tea  and  sugar  byeth : 

"  'Aw  really  see  ne  other  way 

"  '  (And  yit  aw  wad  be  raither  lyeth), 

"  '  Then  just  at  yence  give  ower  the  three  : — 
"  '  Still  the  drop  tea's  maw  main  support ; 

"  '  And  when  aw's  put  aboot,  ye  see, 
"  '  There's  on'y  then  the  backy  fort. 

"  '  But  that's  not  a' ;  for  Mr.  Smith 
"  '  Tell'd  me  the  cannels  a'  were  risin' ! 

"  '  Dear  me,  says  aw,  sir,  what's  that  with  \ 
"  '  It's  by  maw  truly  quite  a  byson. 

"  '  It  is  the  plaguy  war,  I  fear — 

"  '  They  can't,  says  he,  the  Yankees  beat. 

"  '  Bliss  me,  says  aw,  that's  varry  queer, 
"  '  De  they  now  fight  by  cannel-leet. 

"  '  What  hez  the  Yankee  bodies  duin  ? 

"  '  Or  what  de  we  for  fightin'  get  ? 
" '  They'll  leave  us  neither  dish  nor  spuin, 

"  '  And  ower  heed  and  ears  i'  debt.' 

"  A  real  backbone  Tory — Jack, 

"  When  '  Yankee'  struck  his  drowsy  lug, 

"  Hoard  out,  '  We'll  spend  wor  bin' most  plack, 
"  '  Te  gie  them  iv'ry  yen  a  slug.' 

"  '  For  God's  syek,  hinny,  baud  thy  tongue — 
"  '  Thou's  a'ways  reet,  aw  niver  doubt  it  ; 

"  '  And  if  thou  said  the  tap's  the  bung, 
" '  Aw  wndii't  fash  maw  thoom  about  it  : 


IS  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

"  c  For  woman's  words  ha'e  little  weight 
'• '  On  hyem  affairs,  or  'bout  the  nation  ; 

"  '  Yit  oft  wc  de  what  bothers  quite 
"  '  Wor  lovin'  lords  o'  the  creation. 

"  '  The  waik  gan  a 'ways  te  the  wall — 
"  '  It's  reet  ye  ha'e  the  upper  hand  ; 

"  '  But  how  we  ha'e  ne  say  at  all, 
"  '  Hang-  me  if  aw  can  understand. 

"  '  But  niver  mind  :  we  mun  knock  under — 
"  '  There's  nowt  else  for  us  while  we're  here  ; 

"  '  Yet  still  aw  cannot  help  but  wonder, 

"  'When  aw's  threept  out  o'  what's  se  clear.' 

"  '  Ne  say  !     Eh  !  thou's  a  Tartar,  Nell  ! 

"  '  What's  that  but  sayin'  aw's  i'  the  wrang  ? 
"  '  Thou'll  ha'e  the  cowpin'  word  thysel', 

"  '  Or  talk  for  iverlastin'  twang. 

"  '  Were  it  a  thing  'bout  which  te  brag, 
"  '  Aw  here  meet  boast,  o'  Wear  or  Tyne 

"  '  There  niver  did  a  clapper  wag 

"  '  That  had  the  smallest  chance  wi'  thine.' 

"  Lang  as  this  matrimonial  squall 

"  Was  kept  by  Jack  and  Nelly  blawin', 

"  He  didn't  scunner  me  at  all, 

"  Nowt  mindin'  then  but  Nelly's  jawin'. 

"  Aw'd  a'  the  time  been  wonderin'  sair 

"  If  this  palaver  tell'd  for  me  ; 
"  Or  if  the  odds  were  less  or  mair, 

"  That  Sall  at  last  maw  rib  wad  be. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  49 

"  At  what  he  said,  aw  could  hae  blair'd 
"  Aboot  the  pinches  then  o'  leevin' ; 

"  Yit  when  aw  iv'ry  thing  compar'd, 
"  The  arguments  seeni'd  nearly  even  : 

"The  times  bein'  bad,  aw  clearly  fand 
"  Wad  likely  myek  him  say  me  nay ; 

"  But  gettin'  Sally  off  his  hand, 

"  Meet  turn  the  skyell  the  tother  way. 

"  A  gliff  o'  me,  and  breeth  te  speak, 

"  Brought  out — '  Hollo,  lad  !  where's  te  been? 
"  '  Aw've  niver  seen  thee  a'  the  week — 

"  '  The  seet  o'  thee's  good  for  sair  een." 

"  Aw  hammer' d  out  some  lyem  excuse, 

"  But  nobbut  iv  a  humdrum  way ; 
"  And  humm'd  and  haw'd,  te  little  use, 

"  Aboot  isomethin'  aw  had  te  say. 

"  Aw  luik'd  a'  queer,  and  scratch'd  maw  heed, 
"  As  if  the  words  war  steekin'  there, 

"  Amang  that  little  plaguy  breed 

"  That  skelp  aboot  in  youngster's  hair. 

"  At  lang-last  tummell'd  out  maw  tyel, 

"  That  aw  was  gawn  te  change  maw  life — 

"  Liked  Sally  better  than  mysel', 
"  And  wish'd  te  hev  her  for  a  wife. 

"  Nell  now  laid  doon  her  pipe,  and  said, 

"  '  Maw  Sally,  hinny's,  but  a  bairn, 
"  '  And  thou's  ower  young  by  far  te  wed — 
Ye  byeth  ha'e  mickle  yit  te  lairn, 


50  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

"  '  Afore  ye 're  fit  te  fight  yor  way 

"  '  Through  scant,  and  want,  and  misery, 

"  '  Eneugh  at  sic  a  time  te  flay 

"  '  Poor  folks  like  uz  frae  buckliu'  te. 

"  '  Think  of  a  heap  o'  hungry  bairns 
"  '  Aboot  an  empty  cupboard  cryin', 

"  '  Wi'  mebby  he,  that  hardly  earns 

"  '  Their  daily  breed,  i'  seekness  lyin' — 

"  '  Without  a  coin,  or  crust  o'  breed, 

"  '  (And,  mind,  this  dowly  lot's  been  Nelly's,) 

"  '  Or  friend  te  lend,  in  times  o'  need, 
"  '  A  helpin'  hand  te  fill  their  bellies. 

"  '  The  parish  now,  wi'  miser's  care, 
"  '  Mun  thrimmel  out  some  sma'  relief; 

"  '  But  oh  !  it's  cawd,  and  just  ne  mair 
"  '  Than  keeps  them  i'  this  warld  o'  grief. 

"  '  Think  weel  o'  this,  and  wait  awhile, 
"  '  Till  things  are  iv  a  better  plight ; 

"  '  For  young  folks  oft  theirsels  beguile — 

"  '  They  think,  when  wed,  a's  smooth  and  streight. 

"  '  A'  things  are  just  twee  prices  now, 
"  '  And  wark  was  niver  knawn  se  slack, 

"  '  And  we've  had  sic  a  warsel  through, 
"  '  We  cannot  spare  poor  Sall  a  plack.' 

"  '  Hoot,  hinny  !  let's  keep  up  wor  hearts — 
"  '  Ye'll  see  we'll  myek  a  decent  fend  : 

"  '  The  warld  gans  a'  by  fits  and  starts — 

"  '  When  things  are  at  the  warst  they'll  mend : 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  51 

"  '  Gi'e  me  but  Sall,  aw  want  ne  niair, 

"  '  The  house  aw' 11  fettle  up  inysel : 
"  '  Aw'll  work  maw  byens  byeth  lang  and  sair, 

"  '  And  at  the  pay  she's  ha'e  the  hyell. 

"  '  Nay,  there's  be  nowt  aw  winnet  de, 
"  '  And  Sall  aw's  sure  will  de  the  syem, 

"  '  In  joinin  heart  and  hand  wi'  me, 
"  '  Te  myek  us  byeth  a  happy  hyem. 

"  '  Come  weal  or  woe,  come  fouth  or  scant, 
"  '  We'll  share  the  good  and  bad  thegither  ; 

"  '  And  when  wark's  flush,  for  time  o'  want, 
"  '  Lay  by  some  cottrils  i'  the  blether. 

"  '  For  we'll  nut  wyest,  ower  drams  and  drouth, 
"  '  What  aw've  been  wrought  for  myest  te  deeth  ; 

"  '  Nor  leeve  like  some,  frae  hand  te  mouth, 
"  '  Wi'  ne'er  a  doit  before  their  teeth.' 

"  The  awd  folks  lik'd  maw  tyel,  aw  fand, 
"  And  Sall,-  aw's  sure,  thowt  it  a  topper ; 

"  But  when  aw  said,  if  they  stood  need, 

"  Aw'd  share  wi'  them  the  hinmost  copper — ■ 

"  Wi'  hearts,  poor  things,  it  now  was  clear, 
"  Ower  full  by  far,  owt  much  te  say, 

"  They  wip'd  away  the  fallin'  tear, 
"  And  wish'd  us  mony  a  happy  day. 

"  The  day  was  won,  maw  fears  were  duin, 
"  The  happiest  man  o'  Wear  or  Tyne, 

"  Wi'  pleasur  aw  was  ower  the  niuin, 
"  A'  else  was  caff  and  sand  te  mine. 


52  the  pitman's  PAY. 

"  A  cuckoo-mornm'  give  a  lad, 

"  He  values  nut  his  plagues  a  cherry  : 

"  A  back  or  knowe  myeks  hewers  glad, 
"  A  gaudy-day5  myeks  a'  hands  merry. 

"  Thou's  often  help'd  te  buss  the  tyup, 
"  And  muu  knaw  a'  the  joy  we  fand 

"  When  labour's  yearly  darg  was  up, 
"  And  lots  o'  gaudy-days  at  hand. 

"  But  back  or  knowe,  or  gaudy-day, 
"  Or  cuckoo-morn,  wi'  a'  their  pleasur, 

"  Nor  that  o'  gossips  round  a  tray 

"  O'  tea  weel  lyeced,6  and  spicy  fizzer, 

"  Had  nowt  te  de  wi'  what  aw  felt, 

"  "When  Sall  was  for  maw  kyevel  drawn 

"  Nay,  a'  maw  joy's  nut  te  be  telt, 
"  Sic  happiness  aw'd  niver  knawn. 

"  They  say  dry  bargains  stand  for  nowse, 
"  Howiver  honest  the  intent — 

"  That  a'  the  pairts  suin  joggle  lowse, 
"  Without  some  barleycorn  cement. 

"  A  jug  o'  Geordy's7  maut  and  hop 
"  Suin  put  us  iv  a  merry  pin — 

"  The  corn  that  suited  Jacky's  crop, 
"  And  fine  for  lowsenin'  the  skin. 

"  He  laugh'd  and  jok'd,  and  ran  the  rig, 
"  Just  like  a  cairder  wi'  the  yess  : 

"  He  kill'd  a  care  at  iv'ry  swig, 

"  And  popp'd  a  pleasur  iv  its  place. 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  53 

"  Wor  tongues  becam'  ne  copies  now, 
"  The  words  cam'  skelpin'  rank  and  file  : 

"  Bein'  talkers  a',  we  rattled  through 
"  Wor  business  iv  a  famous  style.' 

"  Nowt  else  was  wantin'  but  the  priest 
"  To  call8  us,  and  te  tie  the  knot — 

•'  Except  the  time,  which  cam'  on  neist, 
"  And  tuik  us  myest  another  pot 

"  Te  get  conn'd  ower ;  for  Sally  myed 

"  Some  sleight  objection  te  the  day, 
"  As  ower  suin  ;  but  smudgin'  said, 
'  Aw  fancy  ye  mun  hae  yor  way.' 

'  The  last  thing  canvass'd  was  the  nyem, 

"  Provided  we  a  youngster  had. 
"  '  It  mun  be  Jacky,'  said  the  dyem, 
Nut  dootin'  it  wad  be  a  lad. 

'  "Wor  business  duin,  wor  pitcher  tuim, 

"  Jack  out  his  private  bottle  drew, 
:'  And  wi'  a  bangin'  glass  o'  rum, 
"  We  finish'd  off  as  it  struck  two. 

"  Coax  time  te  loiter,  he  will  flee : 

"  Spur  him  te  speed,  he's  sure  te  creep  ; 

"  But  warse  than  this  he  treated  me, 
;'  For  oft  aw  thowt  he'd  dropt  asleep. 

"  Yit  iv'ry  day  still  weers  away, 

"  However  slaw  they  seem  te  gan  : 
"  Se  cam',  at  lang  last,  round  the  day 
'  When  we  before  the  priest  mun  stan  . 


54  tiie  pitman's  pay. 

"  But,  bliss  yc  !  weddins,  now-a-days, 
"  Are  nowt  te  what  we  had  them  then  : 

"  We  didn't  slink  through  private  ways, 
"For  fear  that'ony  body  ken. 

"  Wors  weren't  hugger-mugger  things, 
"  For  fifty  folks  could  scarce  be  hidden  ; 

"  And  scrapers,  tee,  on  fiddle  strings, 
"  Amang  the  rest  were  a' ways  bidden. 

"  We  muster'd  Strang,  a  gallant  band 

"  As  iver  legs  i'  leather  put : 
"A'  shinin'  frae  the  tyelyer's  hand, 

"  And  iv  his  varry  newest  cut. 

"  We'd  lots  o'  bonny  lasses,  tee, 
"  A'-  flantin'  i'  the  pink  o'  fashion  : 

"  A  finer  seet  ye  couldn't  see — 

"  We've  now-a-days  nowt  half  se  dashin'. 

"  Wi'  spirits  up,  and  favours  gay, 

"  (For  all  in  vogue  were  favours  then,) 

"  Te  church  the  music  led  the  way, 
"  And  brought  us  dancin'  back  agyen. 

"  Half-cock'd  and  canty,  hyena  we  gat, 

"  Mang  smoke,  and  dust,  and  rattlin'  guns, 

"  Hurrahs  and  cheers  frae  mony  a  hat, 
"  And  fiddlers  a  at  different  tuins. 

«  The  bride-kyek  neist,  byeth  sweet  and  short, 
"  Was  toss'd  in  platefuls  ower  the  bride  : 

"  The  lads  and  lasses  scrammel'd  for't, 

"  Wi'  airms  and  mouths  stritch'd  far  and  wide. 


THE    PITMANS    PAY.  55 

"  Then  helter-skelter  in  we  bang, 

"  The  dinner  waits,  we  snuff  the  smell ; 

"  And,  a'  sharp-set,  we  weren't  lang 
"  In  dashin'  in  amang  the  kyel. 

"  But  feast  and  fun,  and  fuddled  heeds, 
"  The  stockin'-thrawin',  and  the  beddin', 

"  Here  nyen  o'  maw  description  needs — 

"  Thou'll  find  them  i"  the  Collier's  Weddiri '. 

"  Aw  cannot  help  remarkin'  here, 

"  How  varry  different  things  are  now  : 

"  We  want  that  sonsy,  hearty  cheer, 
"  That  we  on  sic  occasions  knew. 

"  There's  been,  aw  think,  ne  luck,  sin  a' 

"  Wor  good  awd  ways  were  broken  through  : 

"  This  spreed  o'  lare  sets  high  and  law, 
"  A  nonskyep  efter  owt  that's  new. 

"  Wor  faithers  now  are  a'  thowt  fuils, 
"  And  nowt  they  said  or  did  is  reet : 

"  The  bairns  arc  wiser,  since  the  skuils 
"  Stuff  d  them  se  full  o'  this  new  leet. 


"  They  gie  them  a'  the  pox  frae  kye 
"  Myek  leet  wi  nowther  oil  nor  week — 

"  And  hae,  folks  say,  been  varry  nigh 
"  The  muin,  hung  at  a  bag  o'  reek  ! 

"  Far  warse  !  aw  heerd  wor  Bobby  read 
"  The  pyeper,  where  it  tells  aboot 

"  Cheps  that  can  tell  what's  i'  yor  heed, 
"  Wi'  keekin'  at  the  nobs  without. 


56  THE    P1TMANS    PAY. 

"  Aw've  had  maw  awn  suspicion  lang, 
"  That  wor  affairs  were  gawn  aglee  ; 

"  But  where's  the  wonder  a'  gans  wrang, 
"  When  men  presume  sic  things  te  de. 

"  The  varry  weather's  out  o'  joint — 
"  We've  thunner  now  instead  o'  snaw  : 

"  The  wind  howls  frae  the  winter-point, 
"  When  it  sud  summer-breezes  blaw. 

"  But  how  could  we,  awd  like  te  ax, 
"  Expect  te  hev  it  owt  like  sure, 

"  Wi'  wor  new-fangled  almanacks,9 
"  And  total  want  o'  faith  in  Moore. 

"  We'll  bring  a  judgment  o'  the  land, 
"  As  sure  as  iver  we  are  leevin', 

"  Like  them  of  awd,  that  tuik  in  hand 
"  Te  myek  a  way  streight  up  te  Heeven. 

"  Weel !  efter  a'  was  dealt  and  duin, 

"  As  was,  thou  knaws,  the  custom  then, 

"  They  myed  me  ride  the  stang,10  as  suin 
"  As  aw  show'd  fyece  at  wark  agyen. 

"  The  upshot  was  a  gaudy  day, 

"  A  grand  blaw-out  wi'  Grundy's  yell, 

"  A  real  moistenin'  o'  the  clay, 

"  Wi',  then,  the  best  o'  Gyetshed  Fell. 

"  Se  time  wagg'd  on,  till  nine  months'  end, 
"  Myed  me  luik  out  for  little  Jack  ; 

"  But  gat  a  gliff,  thou  may  depend, 
"  On  hearin'  Bob  was  at  his  back. 


the  pitman's  pay.  57 


a  i 


Wuns,'  says  aw,  'this  rough  beginnin', 
"  '  Wi'  double-chuckers,  freightens  me ; 
"  '  For  as  she's  myed  a  start  wi'  twinnin', 
"  '  She'll  mebby  neist  time  bring  me  three  !' 

'  Yit,  frae  maw  lads  maw  luck  aw  trace, 
"  (And  finer,  sees  te,  ne'er  were  bred)  : 
"  Aw  gat  at  furst  a  shifter's  place, 
"  And  then  a  deputy  was  myed. 

"  For  aw'd  pick'd  up  some  bits  o'  lare, 
"  Wi'  tendin'  close  the  skuil  at  neets ; 

"  But  mony  a  time  the  hours  spent  there 
"  Sud  ha'e  been  gi'en  te  sleep  wi'  reets. 

"  Aw  lik'd  a  ballant,  or  a  buik, 

"  Se  much,  it  wad  ha'e  duin  ye  good — 

"  T'iv  seen  me  sittin'  i'  the  nuik, 

"  Wi'  Hickathript  or  Robin  Hood. 

"  Wi'  here  an  awd  wife  on  a  stuil, 
"  And  there  an  awd  man  on  a  chair, 

"  Enjoyin'  all  a  bellyfull 

"  O'  laughin',  at  maw  stories  rare. 

■'  Nay,  sic  a  dab  was  aw  when  young, 
"  At  readin',  oft  wi'  pious  raptur 

'  The  awd  folks  stared,  as  frae  maw  tongue 
"  Dropt  Nehemiah's  kittle  chapter. 

"  For  this  was  then  the  test  o'  talents, 

"  A  feat  that  dulbarts  cudn't  de, 
"  As  nyen  but  varry  cliver  callants 

"  Could  learnin's  lether  moont  se  hee. 

i 


58  THE    PITMANS    PAY. 

"  And  then,  at  castin'  'counts  aw  grew 
"  As  'cute  and  gleg  as  ony  clerk — 

"  Had  a'  the  '  goulden  rule'  gyen  through, 
"  And  rnyest  was  fit  te  place  the  wark.11 

"  Maw  lads  began  te  thrive  like  trouts — 
"  Their  mother,  tee,  was  mendin'  fast — 

"  Her  month  was  out,  or  thereaboots, 
"  A  time  for  christenin' 12  rarely  pass'd. 

"  But  christenin's  now  are  suiner  duin 
"  By  far,  than  what  they  used  to  be  : 

"  Folks  were  nut  ax'd  for  efternuin, 
"  Te  get  blawn  out  wi'  blashy  tea. 

"  For  nowt  but  solids  then  wad  please — 
"  Substantiate  that  wad  bide  some  cutting 

"  A  ham  and  veal,  a  round  and  peas, 
"  Some  tormits  and  a  leg  o'  mutton — 


^6 


"  A  dumplin'  like  a  sma'-coal  heap — 
"  A  puil  o'  spice-kyel  i'  the  middle — 

"  Wi'  pies  and  puddin's,  wide  and  deep, 
"  Aboot  myed  up  the  savoury  siddell. 

"  Here  there  was  plenty,  gawin'  and  comin'- 
"  Here  we  could  cut  and  come  agyen ; 

"  And  a'  wesh'd  doon,  by  men  and  women, 
"  Wi'  bumpers  frae  the  awd  grey-hen. 

"  This  was  the  kind  o'  belly-timmer, 
"  For  myekin'  pitmen  Strang  and  tuiff ; 

"  But  now  they  run  them  up  far  slimmer, 
"  Wi'  tea,  and  other  weshy  stuff. 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  59 

"  Splash  gan  the  spuins  amaug  the  kyell — 
"  De'il  tyek  the  hinmost !  on  they  drive — 

"  Through  and  through  the  bowl  they  wyell — 
"  For  raisins,  how  they  striteh  and  strive  ' 

"  This  ower,  wi'  sharp  and  shinin'  gear 
"  They  now  begin  their  narrow  workin'  ; 

"  Whilst  others,  eager  for  the  beer, 
"  Are  busy  the  grey  hens  uncorkin'. 

"  Though  still  they're  i'  the  hyell  a'  hewin', 
"  Afore  they  close  the  glorious  day, 

"  They  jenkin  a  the  pillars13  doon, 
"  And  efter  tyek  the  stooks14  away. 

"  They  were  nut  hamper'd  then  wi'  vends, 
"The  torns  were  ready — nyen  need  wait  : 

"  A  customer  ne  suiner  sends, 

"  Than  back  retorns  the  loaded  plate. 

"  Mony  a  bout  like  this  we  had. 

"  For  Sall  was  reg'lar  as  a  clock — 
"  In  iv'ry  year,  good  times  or  bad, 

"  Another  addin'  te  the  stock. 

"  She  brought  me  lots  o'  canny  bairns, 
"She  iv'ry  whupwhile  wanted  Bella;15 

"  Yit  efter  a',  wi'  Sally  Cairns 

"  Aw've  jogg'd  through  life  a  happy  fellow. 

"  We  away-  had  te  de  wor  torn. 
And  somethin'  for  a  time  o'  need  ; 
\  lyin'-in  ne'er  myed  u.*  mourn, 
'•  For  wi'  the  mouth  still  cam  the  breed. 


00  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

"  Wor  bairns  are  now  a'  men  an'  women, 
"  And  wearin'  up  the  warld  te  knaw ; 

"  While  Sall  and  aw  are  byeth  fast  tuimmin' 
"  The  cup  o'  life,  already  law. 

"  Wi'  what  we  liad  we  war  content, 
"  Howiver  hyemly  was  the  fare  : 

"  We  tuik  wi'  thanks  what  Heeven  sent, 
"  Nor  murmur  d  that  it  wasn't  mair. 

1,1  But  we  hev,  Joanny,  had  wor  day, 
"  And  mun  te  time  an'  age  submit.: 

"  Then  come  the  summons  when  it  may, 
"  We'll  be  prepared,  aw  hope,  for  it. 

"  And  when  life's  last  stook's  tyen  away, 
"  And  nowt  but  icy  est  and  ruin  near — 

"  When  creep  comes  ower  wor  wronght-out  clay, 
•'  And  all's  laid-in  for  iver  here — 

"  May  we  a'  hyell  be  won  agyen, 

"  Ayont  yon  dark  and  druvy  river — 

"  Torn  out  a  high  main,  bet  by  nyen, 
"  And,  without  fyellin',  gan  for  iver." 

The  sun  just  here  peep'd  o'er  the  hill, 
Surprised — and  almost  seem'd  to  say, 

"  What !  are  ye  sitting  guzzling  still — 
"  Are  these  your  tricks  when  I'm  away?" 

The  lark  had  left  his  loving  spouse 

Engaged  in  family  affairs, 
And  with  his  notes,  conceal'd  by  dews, 

Cheer'd  her  amidst  her  nursing  cares — 


THE    PITMAN'S    PAY.  61 

The  industrious  dauie  had  just  awoke, 
And  thrown  her  window-board  ajar, 

The  earliest  clouds  of  lazy  smoke, 

Then  stealing  from  the  chimney  were — 

When  this  laborious,  honest  pair, 

Borne  down,  and  bent,  by  toil  and  time, 

The  shadows  now  of  what  they  were 

When  they  stood  firm  in  manhood's  prime, 

Began  to  think  it  time  to  part, 

Admonish' d  by  the  rising  sun, 
As  well  as  by  the  empty  quart, 

And  Willy's  story  being  done. 

With — "  Hinny,  tell  us  what's  te  pay'' — 
Will  waken  d  up  the  drowsy  dyem. 

The  chalks  cast  up,  the  reck'ning  they 
Get  thrimmel'd  out,  and  toddle  hyem. 


NOTES. 

1  It  was  then  the  custom  for  young  men  to  wear  their  hair  at  the 
temples  in  curls,  turning  it  round  a  thin  piece  of  lead,  inclosed  in  paper. 
These  leads  were  only  taken  out  at  the  end  of  the  week,  when  the 
head  was  to  be  washed.  Tails  were  common  almost  to  persons  of  all 
ages,  differing  in  length  and  thickness  according  to  the  fancy  of  the 
wearer. 


(52  THE    PITMAN'S    PAY. 

2  Tutenague,  a  white  metallic  compound. 

3  The  most  fashionable  bonnet  of  that  day. 

i  A  person  named  the  "  caller"  goes  round  every  morning,  to  tell 
the  pitmen  it  is  time  to  rise.  The  time  appointed  for  this  is  called 
"  callin'  course."  Should  it  happen  that  there  is  no  caller,  then  one 
of  the  family  has  this  charge,  and  is  said  to  have  "  the  callin'  course 
te  keep." 

s  There  are  certain  times  ol  the  year  when  the  young  men  and  lads 
refuse  to  work,  and  insist  on  a  "  Gaudy  Day  :"  for  instance,  the  first 
morning  they  hear  the  cuckoo,  and  when  the  turnips  and  peas  are  at 
maturity.  They  call  these  periods  "A  Cuckoo  Mornin',"  "  ATormit 
[Turnip]  Mornin',"  and  "  A  Pea  Mornin'."  At  such  times  they 
frequently  adjourn  to  a  neighbouring  public  house,  where  they  enjoy 
themselves  during  a  great  part  of  the  day. 

6  Lyeced  (or  laced)  tea,  is  tea  mixed  with  spirits.  "  Spicy  Fizzer" 
is  a  cake  almost  black  with  currants,  baked  upon  a  girdle. 

7  Geordy  Grundy,  who  kept  the  sign  of  the  Black  Horse,  one 
of  the  first  houses  on  the  Low  Fell  for  "  cock-  figh  tin',"  "cuddy 
racin',"  and  all  other  pitmen's  amusements  on  the  "  pay  nights." 

8  To  be  "  called"  at  church,  is  to  have  the  banns  published. 

9  The  first  number  of  the  British  Almanack  was  published  by  the 
"Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge"  in  1828,  and  was  a 
wonderful  improvement  on  Moore  and  others.  It  was  not  only  the 
means  of  bringing  forth  others  on  a  similar  plan,  but  of  greatly  im  ■ 
proving  many  of  the  old  ones. 

10  "  Ridin'  the  stang,"  in  this  case,  is  not  meant  as  a  mark  of  dis- 
grace, as  it  is  in  many  others  :  on  the  contrary,  it  is  rather  an  honour. 
The  bridegroom  is  mounted  on  a  board  or  pole,  and  carried  to  the 


THE    PITMAN  S    PAY.  (>3 

public  house  upon  the  shoulders  of  two  men,  where  he  is  expected  to 
give  the  pit's  crew  a  "  blaw  out."  The  last  married  man  is  always 
chosen  Mayor,  and  undergoes  the  same  operation.  Both  these  events 
produce  "  gaudy  days." 

11  "  Placin'  the  wark,"  is  out  of  a  certain  number  of  scores  of 
corves,  to  arrange  how  many  each  man  is  to  hew,  and  how  many  each 
tram  is  to  "  put." 

12  It  was  thought  discreditable,  fifty  years  ago,  not  to  christen  your 
children  on  or  before  they  were  a  month  old  :  now,  people  are  not  so 
exact. 

13  "  Pillars"  are  those  parts  of  the  coal  left  to  support  the  roof  when 
a  pit  is  wrought  the  first  time  over. 

11  "  Stooks"  are  what  is  left  for  the  same  purpose,  whilst  the  greater 
part  of  the  "  pillars"  are  removed.  Frequently  the  "  stooks"  also  are 
taken  away — in  which  case  no  coal  whatever  is  left. 

is  Bella  Laing,  the  village  "  howdy,"  of  whose  death  the  follow- 
ing notice  appeared  in  the  Tyne  Mercury  of  January  1,  1833  : "  At 

Gateshead  Kell,  on  Saturday  lasl,  Isabella  Laing,  in  her  91st  year. 
She  practised  as  a  midwife  for  many  years  in  that  place,  and  must 
have  been  present  when  many  of  its  inhabitants,  now  living,  made 
their  '  first  appearance  on  this  transitory  stage,'  as  her  practice  was 
very  extensive.  She  has  passed  respectably  through  life,  and  will 
be  remembered  for  years  to  come,  as  the  fortunate  howdy  of  Gates- 
head Fell." 


FINIS. 


STANZAS 


ON 


THE  INTENDED  NEW  LINE  OF  ROAD 


POTTICAR-LANE  TO  LEYBURN-HOLE. 


k 


STANZAS 

ON   TIIK 

INTENDED  NEW  LINE  OF  ROAD, 


One  evening  in  June,  when  the  lasses  were  raking, 
A  squad  of  queer  chaps  met  to  talk  o'er  the  news, 

To  canvass  the  prices  of  'taties  and  hacon, 

The  rearing  of  pigs,  and  how  many  each  hews.1 

Amongst  other  matters,  they  talked  of  the  hall2 
About  to  be  raised  on  the  Sour  Milk  Hill, 

And  the  new  line  of  road,  which  is  wormwood  and  gall 
To  the  Wrekenton  bodies,  who  wince  at  the  pill. 

There  had  long  been  a  talk  that  the  old  hilly  line3 
Would,  one  day  or  other,  be  quite  laid  aside ; 

But  where  they  would  take  it,  no  one  could  divine, 
For  even  the  rich  folks  could  not  this  decide. 

At  first  the  best  line  was  thought  up  the  Back  Lane,4 
Being  just  quite  as  hilly  as  good  roads  should  be ; 

As  sudden  transitions  from  hills  to  a  plain, 
Might  ill  with  the  poor  horses'  habits  agree. 


68  STANZAS. 

For  the  very  wise  heads  up  at  Wrekentoii  town5 
Had  labour' d  to  settle  these  few  simple  points, 

That  the  horses'  delight  is  an  up  and  a  down, 
A  hill  clears  their  wind  and  relaxes  their  joints. 

One  party  preferr'd  this,  because  it  was  cheaper ; 

A  second  the  line  by  the  fields  would  pursue ; 
A  third  would  take  Bensham,  being  longer  and  steeper,' 

Still  keeping  the  up-and-down  system  in  view. 

There  were  Old  Liners,  Back  Laners,  Birtley  Fellers, 
And  Chain-Bridgers  canny  Newcastle  to  shun  ;6 

Whilstthe  "cheap  Johns"  would  pass  over  Pipewellgate'scellaiH. 
Or  climb  o'er  the  hills,  from  old  Gateshead  to  run.7 

But  the  line  through  the  fields  all  the  others  surpasses, 

As  has  been  resolv'd  by  the  wiser  trustees ; 
So  that  nothing  remains  but  the  horses  and  asses 

To  get  reconciled  to  this  valley  of  ease. 

This  brings  me  at  length  to  the  thread  of  my  story, 
Which  is  to  describe  the  line  through  the  Low  Fell ; 

And  as  Dicky  told  it  I'll  lay  it  before  ye, 
For  none  at  a  story  could  Dicky  excel : — 

"  Aw  say,  lads,  ha'e  ye  heerd  what  they're  gannin'  te  de 
"  Wi'  the  tornpike  frae  canny  Newcassel  te  Lunnen? 

"They'll  shift  it,  they  say,  if  the  greet  folks  can  'gree, 
"  Where  the  coaches  and  mails  will  flee  'steed  o'  runnin'. 

"  'Boot  Potticar  Lonniu  they  leave  the  awd  road,8 

"  Where  hill  upon  hill  rises  iver  se  high, 
"  Up  which  the  poor  animals  now  drag  their  load, 

"  For  a'  the  warld  like  claverin'  up  te  the  sky. 


\nzas.  69 

"Then  they  Nicholson's9  pass,  and  the  pown  at  Brick  Dean, 
"Where  the  mother  her  love-begot  babby  did  droon,1" 

w-  And  where  it's  white  ghost  hez  been  frequently  seen 
"  By  half-fuddled  folks  comin  lyet  frae  the  toon. 

"Suin  they  reech  Whinny  House,  and  the  sign  o'  the  Buck, 
"Where  aw've  oft  been  se  blin'  as  te  nut  knaw  me  mother  ; 

'  And  then  by  the  Meetin',11  and  Boggin's  Dike  Neuk,12 
"  Where  ganders,  lang  syne,  used  to  bilk  yen  another. 

•Then  rcet  ower  the  Fell,  and  by  Cairter's  famed  Well,1' 
"  Where  the  waiter,  like  wine,  ye  see  a'ways  ruunin', 

"  And  is  better  by  far  than  the  poor  blashy  yel 
"  Folks  get  i'  Newcassel  or  even  i'  Lunnen. 

"  Then  away  on  te  Chowden,  and  by  the  Black  Raw," 
"  Where  a  batch  of  awd  bodies  is  quietly  leevin', 

"  Where  the  houses  ha'e  stood  sin  wor  awd  mother's  fa  . 
"  And  folks  gan  as  awd  as  the  hills  up  te  Ileeven. 

"  They  neist  reach  Wilkin's  Well,  ayont  Chowden  Ha', 
"  Where  wor  Bet  gets  her  drop  o'  tea- waiter,15 

"  Which  she  says  diz  so  weel  her  black  tea-pot  draw. 
"  Whether  tea's  in't  or  nut's  little  maitcr. 

•  Ilarley  Green  then  they  pass,  and  Harrison's  shop. 

"  Where  they  bang  a'  for  capital  shoein' ; 
■  And  if  a  shoe's  wanted,  ye  hardly  need  stop — 

"  Iv  a  jiffy  they  clap  on  a  new  un. 

"  Then  on  te  Law  Eighten,  and  doon  te  the  Yett1G 
"  Where  wi'  thieves  mony  yen's  had  te  wresi    i 

"  And  where  the  coach-horses  ye  see  smokin'  het, 
"Scrafflin'  up  the  Lang  Bank  te  Newcassel.17 


70  STANZAS. 

"  But  then  they'll  ne  mair  lia'e  te  wabble  and  wheeze 
"Up  heart-breekin'  hills  a'  foamin  and  faggin', 

■  For  on  the  new  line  an  awd  cuddy,  wiv  ease, 
"  Will  draw  the  mail-coach  or  even  a  waggon. 

"  Ye'll  see  how  they'll  nicker  and  torn  up  their  tails. 

"  (At  their  favourite  hills  giein'  niony  a  keek,) 
"  As  they  run  ower  the  Fell  wi'  the  coaches  and  mails, 

"  Wi'  ne'er  a  toru'd  hair,  and  fresh  as  a  leek. 

"  How  the  sect  will  inrich,  te,  the  travellers'  eenlb 

"  For  niony  miles  roun',  i'  their  whurligigs  bummin'  ; 

"  And  a'  the  hill-toppers,  ower  field,  wood,  and  dean, 
"  Will  easily  see  what's  gannin'  and  comin'. 

"  There's  wor  maistei-'s  new  nibor  cock'd  up  o'  the  hill,19 
"  The  clouds  clean  belaw  and  the  stars  just  abuin, 

"  Where  his  pipe  he  may  smoke,  or  wag  hands,  if  he  will, 
"  Wiv  his  sonsy  awd  nibor,  the  man  i'  the  muin. 

"  Wor  awd  coaly  Tyne  doon  frae  Stella  te  Shiels 
"  He  can  easily  see  a'  the  way  as  its  runnin', 

"  And  the  bonny  black  di'monds  gawn  doon  i'  the  keels, 
"  Te  comfort  and  warm  the  starv'd  bodies  i'  Lunnen. 

"  Wiv  his  glass  he  can  spy  a'  the  leet  ships  i'  shoals 
"  Myest  as  suin  as  they  leave  Lunnen  river, 

u  As  weel  as  them  leavin'  the  Bar  wi'  their  coals, 

"For  the  diff'rent  ports  where  they're  gawn  te  deliver. 

"  Yit  this  is  but  a  trifle  te  what  he'll  see  suin, 

"  When  the  mail  through  wor  Law  Fell  is  fleein'  : 

"  He'll  see,  as  he's  inoistenin'  his  clay  up  abuin, 

"  For  mony  miles  oft",  the  gaird's  horn,  without  leein'. 


INZAS.  ',  I 

"  On  the  other  hand,  luik  up  te  Ravensworth  toors20 
"  Which  gran'mother  says  are  as  awd  as  the  inuin, 

"  And  ye'll  see  the  dark  gloom  that  now  ower  them  lours, 
"  Mun  vanish  the  moment  McAdam  gets  duin. 

"For  the  furst  time  the  mail-coach  will  glent  o'  them  t/w>t, 
"  As  weel  as  the  gimcranks  they'll  see  a' ways  runnin', 

"  Wi'  Dukes,  and  wi'  Lords,  and  wi    Parli'ment  men, 
"  Comin'  doon  frae  and  gawn  up  te  Lunnen. 

"  They'll  see  mountebanks,  rope-dancers,  jugglers,  and  quacks, 
"  Outlandishmen,  tee,  wi'  their  bear  and  their  fiddle, 

"  And  showmen  wi'  nice  penny-shows  o'  their  backs, 
"Gawn  the  fuils  and  the  flats  i'  Newcassel  te  diddle. 

"  Then  wor  capital  air  flays  deeth  frae  wor  borders,21 
"  And  physic's  quite  useless  the  doctor  suin  lairns ; 

"  For  it  cures  a'  complaints,  even  narvish  disorders, 

"  And  myeks  us  quite  faimish  for  rearin'  young  bairns.22 

"  What's  the  use  o'  their  wells,  wi   their  rotten-egg  smells, 
"  Where  greet  folks  oft  gan  te  mend  lungs  and  liver  ? 

"  Let  them  come  te  wor  Fells,  where  they'll  suin,  sound  as  bells, 
"  And  good  as  bran  new  uns,  leeve  on  myest  for  iver." 

The  story  thus  ended,  they  gave  him  three  cheers, 
With  every  success  to  the  road  this  direction, 

And  a  promise  the  first  time  the  guard's  horn  he  hears,23 
They'd  certainly  oil  his  wig  to  perfection. 

Then,  my  Lord,24  give  's  your  hand,  and  say  you'll  agree, 
Nor  longer  our  canny  commissioners  bother : 

Only  think  for  yourself,  and  I  know  you'll  soon  see 
The  road  through  the  fields  bangs  by  far  any  other. 


(72) 
NOTES 

1  The  number  of  corves  each  hewer  semis  up  in  a  day. 

2  "Sheriff  Hill  House,  which  has  since  been  built  by  Matthew 
1'himmer,  Esq.,  of  Newcastle." — Sykes. 

3  The  new  branch  of  the  turnpike  road  from  Tyne  Bridge  to  Dur- 
ham, in  order  to  avoid  the  Long  Bank,  was  commenced  December 
the  6th,  1824. 

*  "  Prior  to  the  year  1745,  the  great  post-road  came  down  the  Back 
Lane  (now  Mirk  Place),  and  entered  Gateshead  by  the  Half  Moon 
Lane,  or  Miller's  Chare." — Sykes. 

5  "  This  village,  which  bounds  the  parish  of  Gateshead  on  the  south, 
has  recently  risen  into  some  popularity,  by  the  establishment  of  a 
hiring  for  servants,  which  takes  place  on  the  second  Monday  in  April, 
and  the  first  Monday  in  November,  in  each  year.     The  first  hiring 

was  held  on  the  15th  of  April,  1822. On  the  27th  of  May,  1824, 

when  the  Rev.  John  Collinson,  A.M.,  Hector  of  Gateshead,  the 
Four- and -Twenty,  and  a  number  of  other  gentlemen,  perambulated 
the  boundaries  of  Gateshead  parish  (which  had  not  been  performed 
for  32  years  before),  refreshments  were  provided  for  them  at  this  village, 
where  the  company  joined  the  ladies  in  the  festive  dance." — Sykes. 

In  connection  with  the  perambulation,  a  number  of  copper  medals, 
or  "  boundary  tokens,"  were  distributed,  of  which  the  following  is  a 
representation : — 


NOTES.  73 

6  Advocates  for  the  different  lines  of  alteration. 

'  A  most  lamentable  proof  of  the  "  wanderings  of  the  human  intel- 
lect," and  one  more  instance  of  the  absurdities  men  run  into,  when 
they  choose  to  abandon  reason  and  common  sense.  The  following 
resolutions  were  picked  up  in  Gateshead,  on  one  of  the  days  appointed 
for  a  meeting  of  the  Commissioners  of  the  Durham  Road,  and  were, 
it  is  supposed,  meant  to  be  moved  by  an  Old  Liner,  and  to  operate 
as  an  extinguisher  of  the  new  project.  1 1  is  conjectured  they  had 
been  lost  previous  to  the  meeting,  as  they  were  never  brought  forward. 
They  are  curious  merely  as  showing  what  strange  opinions  on  road- 
making  were  afloat  at  this  time,  notwithstanding  McAdam's  new 
light  on  that  subject. 

"  Resolved, — That  both  horses  and  asses  travel  with  more  speed, 
and  greater  ease,  up  a  hill,  than  upon  level  ground. 

'•  Resolved, — That  the  steeper  the  hill,  the  more  suitable  it  is  for 
the  line  of  a  public  road. 

"  Resolved, — That  the  chord  of  an  arc  is  longer  than  the  arc  itself, 
and  that,  therefore,  a  road  passing  over  a  steep  hill  must  be  much 
shorter  than  the  one  running  along  the  flat  at  its  base. 

"  Resolved,  lastly, — That  the  present  line  of  road,  from  Newcastle 
to  Chester-le-Street,  is  the  best  possible,  from  its  passing  over  one  of 
the  highest  hills  in  the  vicinity,  being  nearly  eighty  fathoms  above 
the  level  of  the  river  Tyne." 

8  "  Potticar  Lonnen  (Lane)  branches  to  the  west  from  the  main  street 
of  Gateshead,  a  little  above  the  Sunderland  road  end." — Sykes. 

a  The  cottage  a  few  yards  south  of  the  toll-bar,  which  was  always 
considered  half-way  to  Newcastle  from  the  Low  Fell,  and  called 
"The  Half- Way  House." 

w  This  is  a  piece  of  local  tradition,  very  current  in  the  neighbour- 
hood ;  and  its  truth  so  firmly  believed,  that  very  few  pass  this  place 
late  at  night, 

"  Who  glower  not  round  wi'  prudent  cares, 
Lest  bogles  catch  them  unawares." 

L 


?4  NOTES. 

H  "Here  it  is  only  necessary  to  say,  that  instead  of  going  by  the 
Meeting,  the  road  passes  over  its  site,  as  the  Meeting-House  is  now 
pulled  down  for  that  purpose." — Sykes. 

18  A  noted  place  for  gamblers  some  forty  years  ago.  The  pit-lads 
were  then  in  the  habit  of  meeting  here  every  Sunday  morning,  when 
the  weather  was  fine,  and  spending  the  day  in  shake-cap,  marbles, 
trippet-and-coit,  and  other  games.  But  this  has  happily  been  dis- 
continued for  many  years.  We  are  much  indebted  for  this  reform 
in  our  morals  to  the  Methodists  and  Sunday  Schools. 

13  A  famous  spring,  taking  its  rise  in  an  old  pit,  and  issuing  from 
a  hill-side  on  the  Low  Fell.  It  affords  the  inhabitants  a  healthy, 
sober  beverage,  free  from  the  pernicious  effects  produced  by  the  rot- 
gut  stuff,  often  drunk  under  the  name  of  ale.  Of  course  I  except 
home-brewed  and  fine  old  cightpenny. 

11  A  few  very  old  houses,  whose  inmates  have  been  generally  long- 
lived  and  respectable  members  of  the  Methodist  Connexion. 

J5  Wilkin's  Well,  which  produces  excellent  water  for  making  tea, 
and  on  that  account  is  brought  from  a  great  distance. 

16  Close  to  Leyburn  Hole,  a  very  lonely  glen  at  the  foot  of  the 
Long  Bank,  formerly  much  infested  by  thieves,  who  used  to  rush  out 
upon  the  unwary  traveller,  and  commit  all  kinds  of  depredations. 
Tradition  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say  murders  have  been  committed 
here.  However,  since  the  present  houses  were  built,  all  crimes  of 
this  nature  have  ceased. 

17  About  half-a  mile  north  of  the  Long  Bank,  is  a  public  house 
(at  present  kept  by  Isabella  Stephenson)  which  has  long  been 
known  by  the  name  of  "  Red  Robin's."  On  its  sign-board  is  a 
picture  of  the  house,  with  the  following  lines  underneath,  as  an 
invitation  to  travellers  : — 

"  Red  Robin  lives  here, 

"  Sells  good  ale  and  beer  : 

"  Pass  ye  east  or  pass  ye  west, 

"  If  ye  pass  here  ye  pass  the  best." 


NOTES.  75 

Robin  Rogerson  was  the  first  "  Red  Robin."  His  son  Philip 
bore  the  same  title.  Margaret  Stephenson,  the  daughter  of 
Philip,  continued  the  house  after  her  father's  death,  under  the  name 
of  "Red  Peggy;"  and  her  daughter,  Isabella  Stephenson,  the 
present  conductress  of  the  establishment,  is  best  known  as  "  Red 
Bella."  It  is  said  that  this  sobriquet-vra,s  conferred  upon  the  father 
of  this  red  race  in  consequence  of  the  great  value  he  set  upon  a 
favourite  red  cock  (a  game  cock) ;  but  he  must  have  been  indebted  for 
his  title  to  something  besides  the  cock,  otherwise  he  might  with  more 
propriety  have  been  called  "  Cock  Robin"  than  "  Red  Robin." 
Philip  was  so  fond  of  his  favourite  colour,  that  he  once  appeared  at 
Lamesley  church  completely  dressed  in  red,  even  to  the  very  hat  and 
shoes;  and  his  successors  have  shown  so  steady  an  adherence  to  the 
hereditary  partiality  of  the  family,  as  to  have  prefixed  to  their  names 
the  distinguishing  title  of  "  red." 

18  "  The  country,  when  viewed  from  the  top  of  Gateshead  Pell, 
exhibits  the  highest  scene  of  cultivation  that  ever  I  beheld." — 
Smollett's  Humphrey  Clinker. 

19  From  Mr.  Pll'mmer's  residence  you  have  one  of  the  finest  and 
most  extensive  views  in  the  north  of  England.  It  takes  in  the  whole 
line  of  the  Tyne,  and  the  beautiful  vale  of  Ravensworth,  and  has  a 
commanding  prospect  of  the  ocean  to  the  north  and  east. 

20  «  xhis  very  ancient  castle,  the  seat  of  Lord  Ravensworth,  was 
pulled  down;  and  in  the  year  1808,  a  new  one  was  commenced 
building,  on  a  beautiful  Gothic  plan,  by  Nash.  Two  of  the  old 
towers  are  retained  in  the  new  building." — -Sykes. 

21  As  a  proof  of  the  salubrity  of  the  air  on  Gateshead  Fell,  it  is 
only  necessary  to  adduce  the  following  instances  of  remarkable 
longevity : — 

"  January  1 3th,  1750,  died  at  White  House,  on  Gateshead  Fell,  aged 
105,  Mr.  Edward  Colvil,  father  to  the  Countess  of  Tankerville. 

"  Octoher  20th,  1778,  died  at  Gateshead  Low  Fell,  Margaret  Fen- 
wick,  aged  111.    She  enioyerl  an  almost  uninterrupted  state  of  good 


re 


NOTES. 


health  until  within  a  few  days  of  her  death,  and  retained  her  faculties 
to  the  last.  A  few  years  before  her  death,  she  entertained,  on  new 
year's  day,  at  her  own  house,  107  of  her  descendants,  consisting  of 
her  children,  grandchildren,  and  great-grandchildren.  She  was  also 
actuated  with  a  peculiar  humour  at  every  return  of  her  birthday — 
which  was,  to  add  to  her  stock  a  new  pewter  spoon — so  that,  at  her 
death,  she  had  as  many  spoons  as  she  was  years  of  age. 

"June,  1796,  died,  at  the  Blue  Quarries,  on  Gateshead  Fell, 
Dorothy  Atkinson,  aged  109.  She  possessed  her  faculties  until 
her  death. 

"  January  12th,  1816,  died  at  the  Windy  Nook,  on  Gateshead  Fell, 
Mary  Henderson,  aged  100  years." ~-Sykes. 

At  the  present  day  there  are  many  living  instances  of  protracted 
existence. 

22  The  following  notice  of  Sarah  Dickenson's  death,  the  daughter 
of  Sarah  Fenwick,  appeared  in  the  Gateshead  Observer,  Sept.  4th, 
1841 : — At  Villa-place,  Newcastle,  on  the  19th  ult.,  Sarah  Dicken- 
son, aged  88.  She  was  born  on  Gateshead  Low  Fell,  where  she 
lived  till  within  a  very  few  years  of  her  death.  Her  mother  (Sarah 
Fenwick)  and  herself  were  "doctresses"  there  for  nearly  one  hun- 
dred years ;  and  during  that  time  they  nursed  upwards  of  one  hundred 
children,  principally  from  Newcastle.  They  frequently  nursed  both 
the  mothers  and  their  children.  Sarah  Fenwick  died  upwards  of  90 
years  of  age;  and  her  daughter,  Dorothy  Wilson,  died  about  two 
years  ago  in  Gateshead,  at  a  very  advanced  age  also.  They  were  all 
respectable  in  their  several  situations  of  life ;  and  Mrs.  Fenwick  and 
her  daughter  Sarah  rendered  great  benefits  to  a  poor,  laborious 
population,  for  many  miles  around  them. 

23  The  mail  to  London  passed  along  the  line,  the  first  time,  in  the 
evening  of  the  17th  of  June,  1826. 

M  The  Right  Honourable  Lord  Rave nsworth,  who,  It  seems,  was 
at  one  time  inimical  to  the  projected  improvement. 


THE  OILING  OF  DICKY'S  WIG. 


THE  OILING  OF  DICKY'S  WIG. 


How    way  Dicky,  how  'way  hinny, 
There's  the  tootin'  o'  the  horn  :' 

If  it  cost  a  gowklin  ginney, 
Thou's  be  soak'cl  wi'  barley  corn. 

We'll  hev  a  royal  booze  te-day  ; 

And  iv'ry  true  Law-Feller 
Will  moisten  weel  his  drouthy  clay, 

Frae  Willy  Almond's2  cellar. 

And  if  there's  ony  left  that  sees 
When  Willy's  tap  runs  thinnish, 

Let  them  be  powl'd  off  at  the  Keys, 
Or  at  the  Black  Horse3  finish. 

For  where's  the  man  desarves  the  nyem, 
Winnet  push  aboot  the  jorum, 

And,  fairly  mill'd,  gan  dancin'  hvem 
The  reel  o'  Tul'ygorum. 

Come,  then,  me  boy,  thy  wig  prepare, 

Te  get  its  promis'd  oilin' ; 
Till,  roun'  and  roun',  its  lanky  hair 

Like  Watty's  tail  is  coilin' ! 


80  THE   OILING   OF   DICKY's   WIG. 

This  day  puts  mottle  i'  wor  heels, 

Sets  iv'ry  pipe  a  singin' : 
Wor  varry  hills  yeckey  the  peels, 

Ower  a'  the  Law  Fell  ringin. 

• 

And  had  we  wor  pit-heaps  te-day, 

And  a*  the  cuddies  te  them, 
And  a'  the  Faws,  wi'  Fluckeb  Hay, 

That  went  stravaigin  wi'  them4 — 

They'd  gi'en  a  "  gaudy  day"  te  care 
Te  see  this  change  surprisin', 

Wor  calf-yard,  yence  thowt  poor  and  bare, 
Te  wealth  and  honour  risin'. 

Wor  cuddy-band,  o'  by-gyen  days, 
Te  Law  Fell  lugs  se  cheerin', 

Wad  on  this  day,  in  weel-set  brays, 
Ha'e  gi'en  their  pipes  a  clearin'. 

They  wad  ha'e  fared  o'  thistle  tops, 

The  varry  sweetest  growin', 
For  hay  but  seldom  bliss'd  their  chops, 

Unless  it  had  been  stowen. 

Their  maisters  te,  as  dry  as  chips, 

And  a' ways  fit  te  gizen, 
Wad  ha'e  run  gallons  through  their  lips, 

Their  drouth  was  se  surprisin'. 

Wor  canny  hooses  duffit-theek'd* — 
Wor  canny  wives  within  'em — 

Wor  canny  bairns  se  chubby-cheek'd 
(And  sweet  and  clean  ye'll  fin'  'em) — 


THE  OILING  OP  DICKY's  WIG.  81 

Are  a'  deck'd  out  i'  Sunday  trim, 

Te  mense  this  greet  occasion, 
Which  o'  the  wheel-o'-fortun's  rim, 

Gi'es  us  se  prood  a  station. 

By  this  time  we  had  reech'd  the  Buck,0 

The  grave  o'  serious  thinkin', 
Where  we  fand  mony  a  hearty  chuck, 

Set  in  for  sappy  drinkin'. 

The  skuils  are  shut — the  gabblin'  fry 

A'  skelp  aboot  at  pleasur — 
Their  maisters,  kizzen'd  up  wi'  dry, 

Are  now  at  liquid  measur. 

The  blacksmith's  hammer,  yark  for  yark, 

We  hear  ne  Linger  bangin' : 
He's  busy  puttin'  out  a  spark — 

A  job  he  finds  a  lang  un. 

The  tyelyers  cabbish  nyen  te-day — 

A'  tiv  a  man  desisrnin' 
Te  strengthen  weel  their  outer  clay 

Wi'  Willy's  inner  linin*. 

And  here  come,  tee,  the  lads  o'  wax, 

Rattlin'  like  empty  blethers  : 
They've  left  their  kits,  resolved  te  rax 

Te-day  their  upper-leathers. 

The  joiners,  a'  pined  in  wi'  drouth, 

Shrunk  up  te  spelks,  and  dozzen'd, 
Ha'e  sworn  o'  yel  te  ha'e  their  fouth, 

And  be  completely  rosin'd. 


M 


82  THE  OILING   OP   DICKY  S  WIG. 

Amang  them  .some  yens  aw  could  nyera, 

For  tipple  just  the  taty, 
That  oft  their  chalk-lines  leave  at  hyem, 

Te  scratch  a  few  wi'  Katy.7 

But  nyen  the  myessen  cheps  can  bang, 
For  suckshen  a' ways  glymin' : 

A  brewin'  dizn't  haud  them  lang — 
A  barrel's  but  a  primin.8 

The  landlords'  cocks  o'  Gyetshed  Fell 
Will  this  day  be  kept  runnin  ; 

And  as  we  sit  and  swig  wor  yel, 
We'll  cheer  the  cheps  frae  Lunnen. 

Then  drink,  me  boy,  for  weel  we  knaw 
Thy  jaw  wags  nyen  without  it ; 

And  tyek  the  road,  and  tell  us  a' 
The  outs  and  ins  aboot  it. 

The  call  was  instantly  obey'd, 

And  Dicky  set  a  waggin' 
A  tongue  that  barleycorn,  it's  said, 

Prevents  frae  iver  laggin'. 

"  Eh,  lads,  but  it's  a  bonny  way, 

"  But  what  myest  pleas'd  wor  Nanny, 

"  Was  seein'  fogies,  awd  and  grey, 
"  Paid  just  for  keepin't  canny. 

"  It's  easy,  airy,  broad,  and  dry, 

"  The  paradise  o'  horses  : 
"  They  bliss  ye  now  as  they  gan  by — 

"  Before,  ye  had  their  curses. 


THE  OILING  OP  DICKY'S  WIG.  83 

"  The  gaird  comes  fleein'  like  the  wind — 

"  His  blasts  like  thunner  blawin' : 
"  The  horses  cock  their  lugs  te  find 

"They're  duin  wi'  lang-bank  drawin'.9 

"  It's  form'd  on  Mackey's10  newest  cut, 

"  And  myed  te  suit  a'  humours  : 
"  A  road  for  horse — a  road  for  foot — 

"  And  yen  for  a'  the  bummers. 

"  Its  famish  views  ower  hill  and  dale, 

"  And  up  wor  bonny  river, 
"  Where  a'  the  keels  and  whurries  sail, 

"  Will  matchless  be  for  iver. 

"  Here  wafflers  need  nut  mind  their  steps — 

"  It's  a'  the  way  se  level, 
"  The  varry  thing  for  muzzy  cheps, 

"  As  lyet  frae  toon  they  stevil. 

"  Of  a'  the  roads  it  beers  the  bell, 

"  (But  whe  owt  else  expected  ?) 
"  Brings  out  the  beauties  o'  the  Fell, 

"  Se  mony  years  neglected. 

"  It  borders  close  on  Paradise — 

"  Nut  Adam's  early  college  ; 
"  For  tho'  we've  trees  and  fruit  as  nice, 

"  We  want  the  tree  o'  knowledge. 

"  The  jay-legg'd  bodies  frae  the  toon, 
"  Ha'e  lang  keek'd  through  their  glasses 

"  At  us,  but  could  see  nowt  a'  roun' 
"  But  bastard  bairns11  and  asses. 


84  THE  OILING  OF  DICKY'S  WIG. 

"  The  rogues  knew  weel  they  war  their  awn, 
"  (But  this  durst  nut  be  hinted), 

"  And  war,  for  fear  their  tricks  gat  blawn, 
"  Upon  wor  common  stinted. 

"  It  stans  for  nowt,  then,  i'  their  creed, 
"  That  brag  o'  birth  and  kelter, 

"  The  nyek'd  te  deed,  the  hungry  feed, 
"  And  gi'e  the  hooseless  shelter. 

"  Sic  was  the  compensation  whilk 
"  We'd  frae  these  thowtless  noddies, 

"  For  findin'  air  and  asses'  milk 
"  Te  mend  their  crazv  bodies. 

"  'Tis  true  they  might  ha'e  travell'd  lang 

"  T'iv  seen  a  flunkey's  tassel  ; 
"  Yit  we  had  things  they  cudn't  bang 

"  In  a'  their  fine  Newcassel. 

"  They  bragg'd  o'  banks  byeth  awd  and  good, 

"  And  bankers  a'  se  cliver, 
"  But  wors  ha'e  stood  sin  Noah's  flood, 

"  And  will  stan'  good  for  iver.12 

"  A  banker's  nut  amang  wor  ills — 

"No — gruntin'  ungenteely; 
"  For  whether  lang  or  short  wor  bills, 

"  The  notes  come  a' ways  freely. 

"Theirs  often  myek  a  forgin'  tyel, 
"  Though  stampt  and  finely  written  ; 

"  Whiles  wors,  awd  Natur  stamps  hersel, 
"  Ayont  a'  coonterfittin'. 


THE  OILING  OF  DICKY'S  WIG.  85 

"  Theirs  pass  awhile,  then  pass  away, 
"  Which  myeks  wor  case  the  stranger ; 

"  For  wors  pass  current  till  the  day 
"  When  time  shall  be  ne  laujrer. 

"  Upon  their  Vicar's  Pant  they  dwell — 

"  A  varry  muddy  maiter, 
"  Compared  wi'  canny  Cairter's  Well,13 

"  Se  famed  for  drinkin'  waiter. 

"  But  if  they  jaw  till  grey  they  grow, 

"  It  a'  their  pithless  lingo, 
"  Tis  but  comparin'  treacle-wow 

"  Wi'  Willy  Almond's  stingo. 

"  And  he  mun  be  a  sackless  dog, 

"  Far  warse  than  ony  dandy, 
"  That  dizn't  drink  it  iv  his  grog, 

"  By  way  of  syevin'  brandy. 

"  I'  sense  they  liken 'd  huz  te  culls — 

"  I'  manners  tiv  a  boby  ; 
"  Yit  oft  we've  had  wor  dancin'  skuils, 

"  And  sometimes  '  Punch  and  Toby.' 

"  We've  oft  had,  tee,  the  moontebanks, 
"  On  pay-neets  : — Lord,  how  funny 

"  The  Murry-Andrew  was  ! — his  pranks 
'■  Suin  eas'd  us  o'  wor  money. 

"  It's  thrimmel'd  frae  the  pocket  neuk  ; 

"  And  then  wi'  jaw  se  cunnin', 
"  He  wheedled  huz  te  try  wor  luck, 

"  For  fine  things  new  frae  Lunnen. 


86  THE  OILING  OP  DICKY'S  WIG. 

"  And  tho'  unlarn'd,  and  bare  wor  claes, 
"  As  far  as  history  teaches, 

"  We  niver  i'  wor  darkest  days 

"  Hung  up  awd  wives  for  witches.14 

"  We  ve  led  the  Fashions,  if  we  can 
"  Believe  what's  oft  reported, 

"  That  awd  Will  Common15  was  the  man 
"  That  furst  a  spencer  sported. 

"  Here's  just  by  Natur  what  we  war, 
"  When  frae  her  hand  she  flang  us ; 

"  And  now  aw'll  tell  ye  what  we  are, 
"  Sin  greet  folks  cam  amang  us. 

"  We've  lang  wor  raeetin'-hooses16  had, 

"  For  a'  kinds  o'  believin'  ; 
"  Now  we've  a  chorch17  te  mend  the  bad, 

"  And  help  them  up  te  Heeven. 


And  that  wor  steeple  stands  abuin, 
St.  Nicholas',  whe  can  doot  it, 
"  That  knaws  the  chep  upon  the  muin 
"  Is  forced  te  gan  aboot  it  ? 

"  Here  all  wor  bairns  may  kirsten'd  be — 
"  Wor  lads  and  lasses  married  ; 

"  And  when  at  last  we  droop  and  dee, 
"  Here  we  may  a'  be  barried. 

"  We  now  raise  grapes  upon  wor  Fell, 
"  Ae  weel  as  pines  and  peaches, 

"  That  Ravensworth  cannut  excel 
"  Se  far  as  flavour  reeches. 


THE  OILING  OF  DICKY 's  WIG.  87 

"  We've  peacocks,  tee,  wi'  bonny  tails, 

"  Aboot  wor  barn-doors  feedin', 
"  As  weel  as  sheep  that  crop  wor  vales, 

"  The  crack  o'  fancy-breedin'. 

tw  Wor  varry  varment,  bliss  yor  heart, 

"  If  other  proof  war  wantin', 
"  Wor  greetness  shows,  without  the  airt 

"  That  some  folks  hev  o'  vantin.' 

"  For  we  breed  mice  within  wor  bouns, 

"  White  as  the  fyece  of  muinny, 
"  Which  lazy  loons  aboot  the  toons 

"  Let  culls  keek  at  for  money. 

"  But  what  delights  wor  drouthy  set, 
"  For  fear  drink  should  be  wanted, 

"  The  Magistrates,  last  time  they  met, 
"  Te  four  mair,  license  granted. 

"  Se  now  sud  they  nut  board  the  Ship, 

"  Nor  charge  weel  at  the  Cannon, 
"  Let  them  nut  past  the  Engine  slip, 

"  Beside  wor  College18  stanuin'. 

"  But  there  get  up  sufficient  steam, 

"  To  reech  the  Sov'reign  cheerly, 
"  Where  they  may  quaff  the  royal  stream, 

"  As  lang  as  they  see  clearly. 

"  Here  oft  wor  drouthy  lads  will  meet, 

"  And  sit  till  they  be  fuddled  ; 
"  And  then  the  Well's  the  place  at  neet, 

"  For  lasses  gettin'  cuddled. 


88  THE  OILING  OF  DICKY'S  WIG. 

"  Yit  still  some  odds  and  ends  we  need, 

"  To  put  us  a'  iv  fettle  : 
"  Wor  wives  wad  like  a  bit  het  breed, 

"  Just  when  they  boil  their  kettle. 

"  We  want  a  chep  te  trim  wor  locks, 
"  And  help  us  wi'  wor  shavin' ; 

"  Also  a  pair  o'  parish-stocks, 
"  For  a'  the  misbehavin'. 

"  We  want  the  gas  when  muinny's  gyen, 

"  Folks  far  away  te  leeten  : 
"  A  parish  clock,  that  iv'ry  yen 

"  May  mark  how  fast  time's  fleetin'. 

"  We  want  a  scribe,  to  myek  wor  wills 
"  Afore  we  end  life's  jorney, 

"  Te  syev  us  frae  the  warst  of  ills — 
"  The  lawyer  and  attorney. 

"  He  sud  knaw  some  few  points  o'  law — 

"  How  notices  are  written 
"  For  muzzlin'  dogs,  byeth  greet  and  sma', 

"  As  weel  as  tenants  quittin'. 

"He  sud  read  iv'ry  kind  o'  hand, 
"  And  write  a'  kinds  o'  letters — 

"  Cast-up  wor  bits  o'  taty  land, 
"  And  touch-up  lazy  debtors.19 

"  Just  yen  word  mair,  te  wor  greet  men, 
"  Whese  fame  wad  shine  far  brighter, 

"  If  they  wad,  when  at  roads  agyen, 
"  Myek  them  a  wee  thowt  streighter. 


XOTE3.  81) 

"  Aw  dinnet  mean  by  this  te  fling 

"  O'  them  the  least  reflection  : 
"  It's  on'y  stamp' d  an  earthly  thing, 

"  By  this  small  imperfection. 

"  Then  let's,  my  lads,  afore  we  gan, 

"  A  bumper  freely  gi'e  them — 
"  Wi'  three  times  three  frae  iv'ry  man 

"  For  health  and  lang  life  te  them. 

"  And  may  a'  good  gan  wi'  them  a', 

"  As  lang  as  they  are  leevin', 
"  And  when  they're  duin  wi'  roads  belaw, 

"  May  they  fin'  that  te  Heeven." 

Here  Dicky's  tongue  wad  de  ne  mair, 

His  wig  was  oil'd  completely  ; 
And  iv'ry  drouthy  crony  there 

Was  dish'd  and  duin  up  neatly. 


NOTES. 

1  "The  story  thus  ended,  they  gave  him  three  cheers, 

"  With  every  success  to  the  road  this  direction, 
"  And  a  promise  the  first  time  the  guard's  horn  he  hears, 
"  They'd  certainly  oil  his  wig  to  perfection." 

See  "  Stanzas,"  page  71. 

2  The  landlord  of  the  Buck  public  house. 

N 


90  NOTES. 

s  Two  public  bouses  on  tbe  Low  Fell. 

*  Previous  to  tbo  division  of  the  Common,  the  Low  Fell  was  literally 
covered  with  pit  and  quarry  heaps,  and  barely  afforded  a  scanty  pit- 
tance to  tinkers'  and  muggers'  cuddies.  Since  then,  however,  they 
have  all  disappeared,  and  now  scarcely  a  trace  remains  to  mark  their 
existence.  "  Willy  Trommel"  (Turnbtjll),  who  was  a  kind  of 
halter-for-halter  chap  at  fairs,  bad  sometimes  a  few  sheep  upon  it,  or 
a  curious  coloured  yad ;  for  when  the  natural  colour  did  not  please 
him,  he  has  been  known  to  paint  him  :  and  once,  it  is  said,  he  actually 
had  a  blue  pony  ! 

Flucker  Hay,  too,  was  located  on  the  Common  for  many 
years.  He  was  an  itinerant  tinker : — of  course  a  man  of  metal. 
He  had  been  once  thought  a  fit  subject  for  the  army,  as  it  was  cur- 
rently reported  that  he  had  cut  off  one  of  his  thumbs  to  effect  his  dis- 
charge from  the  service.  That  he  had  lost  a  thumb  was  certain,  but 
whether  the  right  or  left  is  not  so  clear;  but  the  probability  is,  that 
it  was  the  former.  Flucker's  rambles  with  his  budget  were  seldom 
at  such  a  distance  as  to  pi  event  his  return  in  the  evenings  to  his 
domestic  circle.  But  his  endeavours  were  not  entirely  confined  to  what 
he  earned  by  honest  labour  ;  for  when  trade  was  slack,  and  there 
were  neither  "  pots,  pans,  nor  candlesticks  to  mend,"  he  was  obliged 
to  look  uncommonly  gleg  after  the  out-door  moveables  of  his  neigh- 
bours, upon  which  he  did  not  hesitate  to  commit  awful  depredations, 
when  time  and  circumstances  suited.  Experience,  however,  soon 
taught  them  to  keep  such  articles  within  doors;  and  when  this  branch 
of  revenue  was  cut  off,  he  was  obliged  to  look  around  him  for  fresh 
resources  to  replenish  an  exhausted  exchequer. 

The  Common  being  divided  into  very  small  allotments,  every  pro- 
prietor took  unusual  pains  to  turn  his  share  to  the  best  advantage ; 
and  so  far  have  they  succeeded,  although  at  an  immense  expense, 
that  the  land  that  was  formerly  of  little  or  no  value,  is  now  worth 
about  one  hundred  pounds  an  acre ;  and  since  the  commencement  of 
the  new  line  of  road  as  high  as  4s.  per  square  yard  has  been  given 
for  building-sites,  in  its  immediate  vicinity. 

The  Act  for  dividing  the  Common  was  passed  in  the  year  ]  809 ; 


NOTES.  91 

and  John  Bell,  John  Fryer,  and  Matthew  Wheatley  were 
named  Commissioners.  John  Fryer  refusing  to  act,  Joseph 
Granger,  of  Durham,  was  appointed  in  his  place.  They  rode  the 
boundaries  of  the  Common  on  the  28th  August,  1809;  and  soon  after, 
200  claims  of  Right  of  Common  were  received  ;  out  of  which,  after 
considerable  litigation,  155  were  allowed  to  the  parties  following  : — 
129  to  owners  of  ancient  burgages  in  Gateshead  ; 
17  to  Freemen ;  and 

9  to  owners  of  adjoining  freehold  estates. 
The  Act  directs  the  Commissioners,  after  setting  out  the  public 
and  private  roads,  quarries,  wells,  and  watering-places,  to  set  apart  a 
plot  of  ground,  not  exceeding  one  acre,  as  a  churchyard  or  cemetery  ; 
as  also  one-sixteenth  part  of  the  residue  to  the  Bishop  of  Durham  and 
his  successors ;  one  other  sixteenth  part  to  the  Boroughhoklers  and 
Freemen  of  Gateshead;  and  then  to  divide  all  the  residue  (saving 
and  excepting  a  part  thereof,  staked  out  for  the  purpose  of  making 
two  waggon-ways,)  amongst  the  several  persons  having  Right  of 
Common  on  the  said  Fell,  in  proportion  to  the  annual  value  thereof. 
At  this  time  there  were  430  cottages  on  the  High  and  Low  Fell,  many 
of  them  of  the  most  miserable  description  ;  but  almost  the  whole  had 
gardens  attached  to  them,  taken  from  the  Common.  Thirty  years 
ago,  the  place  was  a  common  receptacle  for  all  kinds  of  vagrants, 
called  "  Faws;"  for  here  they  could  rent  a  cottage  for  a  mere  trifle, 
and  the  Fell  afforded  them  a  cheap  and  ready  outlet  for  their  cattle. 
The  owners  of  horses  and  cows  stinted  on  the  Common,  and  the 
proprietors  of  cottages  and  gardens,  paid  the  following  sums  per  an- 
num, called  out-rents : — 

For  each  horse, 5s.  Od. 

cow, 3s.  6d. 

cottage, 2s.  Od. 

garden  or  garth, 2s.  Od. 

These  sums  were  divided  betwixt  the  Lord  of  the  Manor  (Cdth- 
bekt  Ellison,  Esq.,)  and  the  Borough  of  Gateshead.  The  gentle- 
men acting  for  the  Borough  were  called  Grassmen,  and,  with  Mr. 
Ellison's  Steward,  were  in  the  frequent  habit  of  making  a  survey, 
to  ascertain  what  encroachments  had  been  made  since  their  last  visit, 


92  NOTES. 

as  it  was  no  unusual  thing  for  them  to  find  several  garths  not  only 
considerably  increased  in  size  from  the  Common,  but  many  new  ones 
enclosed,  as  well  as  cottages  built  in  various  places.  Then  the  poor 
people  who  had  made  these  encroachments  were  threatened  with 
their  being  pulled  down,  but  this  seldom  or  ever  took  place.  The 
owners  were  only  made  to  pay  the  usual  out-rents  for  them. 

The  Commissioners  were  empowered  by  the  Act  to  order  as  many 
of  these  cottages  to  be  pulled  down  as  were  prejudicial  to  the  division, 
and  the  materials  removed — and  those  that  were  not  so,  to  be  sold, 
and  the  monies  arising  from  such  sales  to  be  applied  to  the  pui  poses 
of  the  division.  In  the  months  of  June  and  July,  181 1,  they  ordered 
90  cottages  or  other  buildings  to  be  removed,  (51  on  the  Low  Fell 
and  39  on  the  High  Fell,)  and  offered  the  remaining  340  for  sale  to 
the  parties  claiming  to  be  interested  therein.  Only  one  person  re  • 
fused  to  purchase  at  the  price  affixed  by  the  Commissioners — and 
this  property  was  soon  afterwards  sold  by  auction.  The  allotments 
were  staked  out  in  1812. 

Joseph  Granger  died  on  the  13th  of  June,  1815;  and  at  a  meet- 
ing of  the  Boroughholders  and  Freemen,  held  on  the  21st  of  July, 
1815,  Thomas  Bell,  of  Newcastle,  was  appointed  his  successor. 
On  the  12th  of  January,  181G,  John  Bell,  another  of  the  Commis- 
sioners, died ;  and  William  Todd,  of  Stokefield  Hall,  was  appointed 
to  succeed  him. 

The  Commissioners  made  their  award  on  the  26th  of  December, 
1822,  the  same  being  signed  by  William  Todd,  Thomas  Bell,  and 
Matthew  Wheatlev.  The  draft  of  this  award  filled  upwards  of 
30  quires  of  paper,  and  the  engrossed  copy  198  skins  of  parchment, 
closely  written.     The  plans  are  on  five  large  skins  of  vellum. 

Gateshead  Fell  is  declared,  by  this  award,  to  contain  631a.  Or.  21p., 
exclusive  of  all  public  and  private  roads,  ways,  paths,  passages,  or 
conveniences,  common  quarries,  and  watering  places  or  wells,  set  out 
in  pursuance  of  the  direction  of  the  said  Act. 

The  allotments  contained  595a.  1r.  19p.;  and  the  cottages  and 
garths,  sold  by  the  Commissioners,  35a.  3r.  2p.;  making  together 
631a.  Or.  21  p.  The  expenses  of  the  award  were  £8,006  5s.  4d., 
and  were  raised  as  follows,  viz. :  — 


NOTES.  93 

Received  for  the  sale  of  cottages,  &c £4,706  14     5 

Rates  on  the  owners  of  allotments 3,299  10  11 


£8,006     5     4 
The  manorial  rights  were  expressly  reserved  to  the  Lord  of  the 
Manor;  and  his  lessee  was  not  to  be  liable  to  mate  any  satisfaction 
for  damage  occasioned  by  the  working  of  the  coal-mines  during  the 
term  of  twenty  years  after  the  passing  of  the  Act. 

5  The  sward  pared  off  the  Common. 

6  When  old  George  Patterson  kept  this  house,  some  forty  years 
ago,  it  was  frequently  the  scene  of  much  mirth  and  fun.  A  select 
few  from  Newcastle  and  the  neighbourhood  used  occasionally  to  meet 
here,  in  the  little  backroom,  to  drive  away  care,  and  discuss  the  topics 
of  the  day.  They  termed  themselves  "Eccentrics,"  and  a  more 
appropriate  name  for  some  of  them  could  not  have  been  hit  upon. 
Time,  however,  that  spares  nothing,  has  scattered  them  far  and  wide. 
A  remnant,  it  is  true,  still  linger  near  the  place;  but  with  the  greater 
part  all  communication  has  long  since  ceased.  Some  of  them  are 
dead,  and  some  in  distant  lands. 

'  The  landlady  of  the  Buck,  Willy's  better  half 

8  Though  this  may  not  be  literally  true,  we  have  had  some  indivi- 
duals of  this  craft  that  have  continued  drinking  for  several  weeks 
together. 

9  The  hill  over  which  the  old  line  passed. 

io  Mr.  M'Adam,  who  had  the  making  of  the  New  Line,  which  is 
formed  into  three  parts— the  carriage-road,  the  horse  road,  and  the 
footpath. 

11  More  illegitimate  children  from  Newcastle  were  reared  on  the 
Fell  than  in  any  of  the  villages  in  the  vicinity  of  that  town. 


94  NOTES. 

12  "  Lang  Bank,  Sodhouse  Bank,  Saltwoll  Bank,  and  Harley  Green 
Bank."  These  are  all  "  awd  Banks,"  and  have  been  drawn  upon, 
"  lang  and  sair,"  for  ages  past ;  and  although  they  have  had  frequent 
"  runs"  upon  them,  they  have  always  come  out  of  such  trials  un- 
scathed. 

13  This  spring  rises  out  of  the  workings  of  an  old  coal-pit  close  by, 
and  the  supply  of  water  originally  was  very  small;  but  when  the 
Sheriff  Hill  Colliery  commenced,  upwards  of  eighty  years  ago,  a 
drift  was  made  into  these  workings,  to  obtain  water  for  the  use  of  the 
colliery-engine ;  and  since  then  it  has  been  very  abundant. 

u  Here  Dick  has  missed  an  excellent  opportunity  of  placing  on 
record  our  great  superiority  to  the  Newcastle  folks  in  the  treatment 
of  witches;  for  although  we  bred  them,  we  did  not  hang  them.  Our 
witches  were  allowed  full  liberty  to  go  where  they  pleased — in  what 
shape  they  pleased — and  in  what  way  was  most  agreeable  to  them- 
selves ;  either  to  scud  over  our  hills  in  the  shape  of  a  hare,  or  whisk 
through  the  air  on  a  broomstick  ;  whereas  (as  stated  in  Gardner's 
England's  Grievance,  at  page  114),  in  the  years  1649  and  1650,  the 
Magistrates  of  Newcastle  sent  to  Scotland  for  a  witch-finder,  who 
practised  the  humane  art  of  discovering  witches  by  thrusting  pins  into 
their  bodies.  By  this  test  fifteen  poor  innocent  women  were  con- 
demned by  a  Newcastle  jury  of  burgesses,  and  executed  for  the  crime 
of  witchcraft.  The  name  of  the  wretch  is  not  given,  but  he  was  en- 
gaged by  Thomas  Shevil  and  Cuthbert  Nicholson,  sergeants 
of  Newcastle,  and  was  "  to  have  twenty  shillings  a-piece  for  all  he 
could  condemn  as  witches,  and  free  passage  thither  and  back  again." 
A  notable  scheme,  truly,  for  finding  witches.  This  fellow  was  at 
length  seized,  tried,  and  executed  in  Scotland,  for  these  abominable 
murders,  and  at  the  gallows  confessed  he  had  been  the  death  of  above 
two  hundred  and  twenty  women  in  England  and  Scotland,  for  the 
gain  of  twenty  shillings  a  piece.  Such  was  the  boasted  wisdom  of 
our  ancestors ! 

The  highly-gifted  race  of  "  witches"  seems  rapidly  tending  towards 
extinction.     There  are  here  and  there  yet  to  be  seen  the  remains  of 


NOTES.  9.) 

their  weak  and  degenerate  descendants,  but  in  such  a  feeble  and 
feckless  state  as  hardly  to  deserve  the  name.  I  have  known  one  of 
these  poor  creatures,  many  years  ago,  whose  power  never  extended 
further  than  raising  a  wind  to  blow  off  the  roof  of  her  neighbour's 
cottage,  or  shake  his  standing  corn.  I  am  aware  that  she  was  accused 
of  more  serious  mischiefs ;  but  how  far  these  ill  natured  accusations 
were  true,  is  very  difficult  to  say,  for  I  could  never  discern  anything 
about  Mabel  that  would  warrant  them,  for  she  was  neither  deformed 
nor  ugly  (two  indispensable  requisites  towards  forming  a  legitimate 
witch),  nor  did  I  ever  recognize  her  frisking  about  in  any  other  shape 
than  her  own.  In  some  other  respects,  however,  she  was  rather  a  sin- 
gular woman.  She  had  a  memory  that  retained  the  date  of  every 
event  that  had  taken  place  for  some  miles  round  the  place  where  she 
lived.  She  could  give  you  the  day  and  hour  of  all  the  births  and 
deaths  in  the  neighbourhood  during  her  time.  She  knew  exactly 
who  "  came  again,"  as  she  called  it,  after  suffering  violent  deaths, 
either  in  the  coal-pits  or  elsewhere — what  shape  they  were  in,  (for 
they  did  not  always  appear  in  their  own) — and  what  they  said  when 
they  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  speak — what  it  v.  as  that  brought 
them  back — and  how  long  it  was  before  the  priest,  or  some  such  com- 
petent person,  got  them  laid  at  rest  in  their  graves.  All  the  haunted 
houses  or  places  she  had  off  by  rote,  and  could  have  given  you  the 
names  of  all  the  "  uncanny  folk,"  or  such  as  had  "  bad  een,"  and  had 
amused  themselves  by  plaguing  their  credulous  neighbours. 

Poor  Mabel  has  been  dead  more  than  thirty  years.  She  was  in 
the  habit  of  amusing  her  young  auditors  with  the  birth  and  parentage 
of  "  Dick  the  Deevil,"  who  frequently  rode  over  the  Black  Fell 
to  his  work,  upon  the  "  Porto  Bello  Brag,"  a  kind  of  wicked  sprite 
that  was  well  known  in  that  part  of  the  neighbourhood.  The  de- 
scription of  the  "  Pelton  Brag,"  given  by  Sir  Cuthbert  Sharp 
in  his  "  Bishoprick  Garland,"  induces  me  to  believe  that  it  must  have 
been  the  same  roguish  sprite  that  played  such  tricks  at  Porto  Bello. 
As  the  places  are  only  a  very  few  miles  distant,  it  is  possible  that  he 
might  extend  the  sphere  of  his  antics  to  the  latter  place,  when  he  was 
not  particularly  busy  at  home.  If  they  were  not  the  same,  they  were 
evidently,  from  the  similarity  of  their  habits,  from  one  common  stock. 


96  NOTES. 

It  delighted  in  mischief;  and  whoever  mounted  it  (for  it  always  ap- 
peared  in  the  shape  of  an  ass),  were  sure  to  be  thrown  into  some  bog 
or  whin-bush  at  parting;  when  the  creature,  as  if  enjoying  the  mis- 
chief, would  run  off,  "nickerin'  and  laughin',"  as  Dick  would  sav. 
He  had  put  the  assmanship  of  many  to  the  test,  but  none  were  able 
to  sit  him,  whenever  he  had  arrived  at  a  suitable  place  for  depositing 
his  load — not  even  Dick,  who  was  become  a  favourite,  and  who,  in 
the  end,  v\as  the  only  one  who  had  spirit  enough  to  cross  him. 
Dick,  however,  from  long  practice,  had  a  pretty  good  idea  where- 
abouts he  would  be  laid ;  and  from  being  on  his  guard,  very  seldom 
received  any  injury.  The  case  was  often  very  different  with  others, 
who  had  not  his  precaution,  or  were  not  such  favourites  as  Dick, 
who  was  generally  accommodated  with  a  soft  fall.  All  this,  it  must 
be  admitted,  is  very  tame  and  spiritless,  compared  with  the  wonderful 
accounts  handed  down  to  us  from  the  olden  times,  of  the  awful  power 
and  activity  of  witches.  They  seemed  then  to  have  been  able  to 
annihilate  both  time  and  space.  We  talk  now,  and  boast  of  our 
rapidity  of  motion  by  gas  or  steam,  but  what  comparison  will  the 
quickest  of  our  modern  movements  hear,  to  that  of  a  witch  mounted 
on  a  broomstick  ?  Besides,  there  is  no  time  lost  in  the  preparatory 
process.  Instead  of  puffing  and  blowing  boilers  and  bags  full  of 
steam  or  gas,  the  witch  lays  her  leg  over  a  broomstick,  and  darts 
through  the  air  like  lightning.  Look,  too,  at  the  beautiful  simplicity 
of  her  apparatus,  compared  with  the  complex  gimcranks  of  the  other. 

15  Will,  no  doubt,  wore  a  lapless  coat  over  another,  for  several 
years  previous  to  this  article  of  dress  getting  the  name  of  "  spencer," 
and  becoming  fashionable  amongst  the  higher  classes  of  society.  But 
whether  the  invention  was  stolen  from  Will,  or  there  were  two  in- 
ventors of  this  useful  garment,  will  be  difficult  to  determine  at  this 
distance  of  time.  Will  being  of  a  perambulating' disposition,  and 
making  no  secret  of  his  invention,  would  be  much  exposed  to  the 
depredations  of  such  as  live  upon  the  merit  and  ingenuity  of  others ; 
yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  was  a  very  shy  hand  at  work,  and  was 
always  sorely  afflicted  with  drouth,  so  that  he  would  often  go  great 
lengths  in  the  way  of  sacrifice  for  a  "  drop  of  drink/'  when  his  finances 


NOTES.  '  97 

were  low.     It  is  therefore  not  improbable  that  he  may  have  sold  his 
right  for  a  pot  of  beer,  when  both  he  and  his  exchequer  were  dry. 

16  The  Wesleyan  Chapel  in  this  place  was  erected  by  William 
Bell.  He  and  his  wife  Jane  made  their  money  here  as  bakers. 
They  had  only  one  child,  who  died  young.  This,  it  was  thought, 
gave  them  a  religious  turn,  and  brought  them  in  connexion  with 
Wesley  in  the  early  part  of  his  career,  at  which  time  this  erection 
was  made.  At  their  death,  they  left  it  to  the  Wesleyan  Connexion, 
who  have  performed  service  in  it  to  this  day.  During  their  lives  they 
entertained  gratuitously  all  the  preachers  sent  hither  on  duty,  both 
itinerant  and  local.  William  Bell  died  on  the  1st  of  January,  and 
Jane  his  wife  on  the  10th  of  February,  1784.  An  excellent  Sunday- 
school,  which  was  established  in  January,  1789,  is  attached  to  this 
chapel,  and  is  one  of  the  earliest  of  these  highly-useful  institutions. 
Above  one  hundred  children  are  taught  here  by  the  hard-working, 
industrious  men  connected  with  the  chapel.  Their  labours  for  many 
years  have  been  unremitting,  and  productive  of  immense  good  to  the 
population  of  this  neighbourhood. 

17  This  church  was  consecrated  by  the  Hon.  Edward  Legge, 
D.D.,  Bishop  of  Oxford,  on  the  30th  of  August,  1825.  There  were 
1,200  people  present.  1,000  tickets  of  admission  were  distributed, 
and  many  were  admitted  without  them. 

18  This  is  a  cottage  standing  a  little  south  of  Carter's  Well,  be- 
twixt the  London  road  and  the  "  Engine"  public  house  The  late 
Mr.  Samuel  Barrass  taught  a  scliool  here  for  nearly  thirty  years, 
in  which  the  young  men  of  Gateshead  Fell,  during  that  period,  were 
all  educated. 

19  The  late  Mr.  Barrass  was  consulted  on  all  these  points.  He 
made  the  wills  of  such  of  his  neighbours  as  hal  anything  to  be- 
queath— read  the  correspondence  of  such  as  could  neither  read  nor 
write — and  concocted  the  replies.  Like  most  of  those  who  write  letters 
for  others,  he  was  frequently  told,  after  reading  the  letter  received, 

O 


98  NOTES. 

and  asking  what  he  was  to  say  in  reply,  "  Why,  you  see  what  they 
say,  and  you  must  know  bettor  than  us  what  tho  answer  should  be." 
He  was  frequently  consulted  ou  knotty  legal  points,  and  was  always 
called  in  when  the  measurement  of  piece-work  in  the  quarries,  or  of 
any  portions  of  land,  was  wanted.  The  following  notice  of  Mr. 
Barrass  appeared  in  the  Tyne  Mercury  at  the  time  of  his  death : — 
"At  Gateshead  Fell,  on  Tuesday,  August  3,  1830,  Mr.  Samuel 
Barrass,  in  his  80th  year,  after  a  long  and  painful  illness.  The 
greater  part  of  his  long  life  was  spent  in  the  arduous  but  useful  em- 
ployment of  teaching,  in  which  he  was  very  successful.  As  a  self- 
taught  man,  his  scientific  and  literary  attainments  were  highly  respect- 
able. His  society  was  much  courted  by  those  who  knew  him  ;  for 
to  his  general  information  was  added  a  fund  of  humour  and  anecdote, 
which  rendered  him  a  pleasing  and  instructive  companion.  He  was 
the  senior  member  of  the  Schoolmasters'  Association  of  this  town, 
with  which  he  had  been  connected  for  upwards  of  40  years." 


MISCELLANEOUS    PIECES. 


MISCELLANEOUS  PIECES. 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  NEWCASTLE  AND 
CARLISLE  RAILWAY, 

June  18th,  1838. 

Lass  !  lay  me  out  maw  Sunday  claes, 
Te-morn's  te  be  the  day  o'  days, 

The  railroad's  gaun  te  oppen ; 
And  aw'll  be  there  amang  the  rest, 
Buss'd  as  aw  was  iv  a'  maw  best, 

At  the  last  Westgate  Hoppin'.1 

The  maister-men  will  a'  be  there, 
Wi'  him  that  a' ways  fills  the  chair, 

Aw  think  they  call  him  Pltjmmer.  ;a 
And  a'  the  cheps  that  fand  the  brass, 
That  browt  this  greet  event  te  pass, 

Then  in  much  better  humour. 

For  oft  they've  been  i'  plaguy  tifts, 
And  put  the  D'rectors  te  their  shifts, 

Te  please,  but  yit  te  foil'em. 
They  strok'd  them  canny  wi'  the  hair, 
Skipp'd  a'  the  spots  consider'd  sair, 

Exceptin'  just  te  oil  'em.3 


102  ON  THE  OPENING  OF  THE 

The  Corporations  on  the  line, 
As  weel  on  Eden  as  on  Tyne, 

Will  mense  this  greet  occasion. 
In  sendin'  Mayors  and  Aldermen  : — 
But  then  the  hats  and  goons  are  gyen, 

That  mark'd  them  men  o'  station. 

Ye'll  see  them  now  like  other  folks, 

In  things  like  bedgoons,  peas,  or  cloaks,1 

The  fashion's  queer  formations  ; 
But  mony  things  as  weel  as  claes 
Are  sadly  alter  d  nowadays, 

Aboot  wor  Corporations. 

Aw've  just  heerd  a'  this  i'  the  toon, 
Where  nowt  else  now,  aw  think,  gans  doon, 

But  this  greet  undertaking 
Which  will  bring  grist  te  mony  a  mill, 
And  cheaper  far  wor  bellies  fill 

Wi'  taties  and  wi'  bacon. 

And  there'll  be  fine  fresh  eggs,  they  say, 
Which  i'  the  west  they  bigger  lay 

Then  what  we  get  frae  Swinney's  ; 
Wi'  blethers  full  o'  Mistress  White,5 
And  butter,  saut  and  fresh,  full  weight, 

The  things  for  singin'  hinnies. 

But  there's  ne  knawin'  a'  the  good 
We'll  get  frae  cheap  and  better  food — 

And  pleasant  trips  i'  summer, 
Te  Staincheybank  and  Hexham  fairs, 
Where  there's  galore  o'  temptin'  wares, 

Te  myek  the  pocket  tyummer. 


NEWCASTLE  AND  CARLISLE  RAILWAY.  ]  03 

Aw'll  tell  thou  mair  when  aw  come  back, 
For  then  we'll  hev  a  sappy  crack, 

'Boot  a'  aw've  heerd  and  seen 
Upon  this  vage  te  foreign  pairts, 
Where  few  but  cadgers  wi'  their  cairts 

Till  now  hey  iver  been. 

******** 

Now,  hinny,  here  aw's  back  agyen  ; 

Thou'll  think,  aw's  flaid,  maw  time  aw've  tyen, 

Aw've  been  se  lang  i'  comin' ; 
But  when  twee  sic  awd  standards  meet, 
The  pain  o'  pairtin's  varry  greet, 

Thou  knaws,  maw  bonny  woman. 

We  left  the  Heugh6  i'  gallant  style, 
And  shot  away  for  awd  Carlisle, 

Snug  seated  i'  the  Queen,1 
Amang  the  swarms  wor  canny  toon, 
And  Gyetshed,  planted  up  and  doon, 

Te  see  se  rare  a  scene. 

Te  tell  thou  a'  aw've  noticed  there, 
O'  dashin'  blades  and  ladies  fair, 

And  lots  o'  bonny  lasses, 
Wi'  gentlemen  of  iv'ry  grade, 
And  sons  o'  toil  of  iv'ry  trade, 

Maw  power  o'  tongue  surpasses. 

Wi'  murth  and  fun  the  country  rung, 
The  lairks  and  Unties  roun'  us  sung  ; 

And  when  the  day  was  sunny, 
The  scenery  rich  and  richer  grew, 
Until  we  seem'd  just  glidin'  through 

A  land  o'  milk  and  honey. 


104  ON  TIIK  OPENING  OF  THE 

We  suin  reech'd  Gilsland's  famish  wells, 
Which,  when  a  lung  or  liver  fyels, 

Or  other  ailin'  maiters 
Myek  sick  folk  flee  frae  doctors'  pills, 
Te  souk  health  frae  the  heather  hills, 

Or  draw  it  frae  the  waiters. 

It  'minded  me  o'  Bobby's  sang, 
Ahoot  the  Dutchman  bool'd  alang 

Upon  a  gimcrank  leg, 
That  let  him  nowther  stop  nor  stay, 
But  whisk'd  him  on  byeth  neet  an'  day, 

As  hard  as  it  could  peg. 

Could  but  the  folks  of  awd  lang  syne 
Luik  out  upon  this  bonny  line, 

And  see  what  we  are  deein', 
They  could,  aw  think,  compare' t  wi'  nowse 
But  Clootie's  gang,  a'  brocken  lowse, 

And  frae  his  clutches  fleein'. 

Some  gan  te  mend  a  crazy  frame  : 
Te  mend  their  fortunes,  others  aim, 

By  tryin'  te  recruit  'em 
Amang  the  monied  maidens  fair, 
That  gan  te  pick  up  husbands  there, 

Wi'  a'  their  een  aboot  'em. 

'Twas  hereaboots,  in  days  o'  yore, 
Awd  Lizzy8  leev'd,  whe  could  restore 

Goods  owther  stray' d  or  stowen — 
Could  tell  the  wearyin'  lasses  when 
They  might  expect  te  get  good-men, 

Though  hope  was  a'  but  flowen. 


NEWCASTLE  AND  CARLISLE  RAILWAY.  105 

They  say  there's  yen  that  fills  her  place, 
That  niver  fyels,  whate'er  the  caye, 

Te  equal  honest  Lizzy  ; 
And  sin'  the  trains  began  te  run, 
Her  trade's  se  brisk,  that,  lyet  and  suin, 

They  keep  her  a'ways  bizzy. 

When  we  war  just  ayont  the  Gut,0 
Aw  let  maw  pipe  o'  paten'  cut, 

That  nowt  might  be  a  wantin', 
Te  brim  the  cup  o'  pleasur  full, 
And  ony  stragglin'  teaser10  lull, 

'Mansr  scenes  se  fine  and  flantin'. 


.- 


But,  hinny,  aw  forgat  te  smoke  ! 
Thou'll  mebby  think  this  but  a  joke, 

But  it's  the  honest  truth ; 
For  oft  se  bizzy  war  maw  een, 
Wi'  wood  and  waiter,  hill  and  dean, 

The  pipe  fell  frae  maw  mouth. 

Aw've  oft  been  tell'd  o'  wings  o'  Love, 
And  stared  te  hear  how  fast  they  move, 

On  sartin  warm  occasions, 
When  lads  wi'  lasses  run  away 
Post-hyest  te  Gretna — neet  and  day 

Pursued  by  their  relations. 

But  when  these  wings  are  wrowt  by  steam, 

Pursuit  is  then  an  idle  dream, 

And  hope  o'  captur  vain  : 

They'd  better  far  just  stay  at  hyem, 

As  chance  o'  catchin's  then  the  syem, 

Purch'd  on  an  efter  train. 

p 


106  ON  THE  OPENING  OF  THE 

Then  quite  secure  frae  furious  frinds, 
Their  flight  te  Gretna  safely  ends 

At  Hymen's  far-fam'd  smiddy, 
Where  suin  the  union's  myed  complete, 
The  metals  bein'  at  weldin'  heat, 

And  Vulcan  a' ways  ready. 

Aw  tuik  a  luik  about  the  toon  ; 
And  efter  danderin'  up  an'  down, 

Te  see  what  folks  war  deein', 
Aw  fand  they  had  tyen  up  a  trade 
Where  we've  the  foremost  fiddle  play'd, 

E'er  sin'  it  had  a  bein'. 

They've  here  a  deal  te  lairn,  aw  see, 
And  sud  tyek  lessons  frae  wor  Quay, 

On  sick  mysterious  maiters 
As  shippin'  coals11 — where  iv'ry  pairt 
Is  taught  by  maisters  o'  the  airt, 

In  a'  their  craft  furst-raters. 

It  was  a  pleasant  seet  te  see 
Wor  canny  toon,  and  Carlisle  tee, 

Byeth  yit  se  hale  and  hearty, 
In  spite  of  a'  the  Border  frays 
In  which  they  fowt  i'  former  days, 

The  bravest  o'  their  party. 

And  now  the  travellers,  wi'  their  trains, 
Will  thraw  young  blood  into  the  veins 

O'  Carlisle's  "  inurry  city  ;" 
And  Grainger  may,  some  efternuin, 
Slip  ower  and  touch  her  up,  when  duin 

Here  wi'  her  canny  titty. 


THE  CAPTAINS  AND  THE  QUAYSIDE,  ETC.  107 

What  lots  o'  brass  it  inun  ha'e  tyen, 
And  labour  frae  lang-heeded  men, 

Te  join  this  ancient  pair — 
Te  rnyek  them,  as  it  war,  shake  hands, 
And  knit  them  close  iv  iron  bands, 

Te  separate  ne  mair. 

Aw  hope  they'll  a  be  spared  te  see 
The  fruits  o'  this  most  noble  tree, 

This  cream  o'  man's  creations, 
Enrich  and  bliss  wor  happy  hyems  ; 
And  when  they're  deed,  hand  doon  their  nyems 

Te  coontless  generations. 


THE  CAPTAINS  AND  THE  QUAYSIDE, 
SOME  THIRTY  YEARS  AGO. 

Sin'  Tommy  Thompson's12  vage  <e  Shiel's 

Iv  Jemmy  Joneson's  whurry, 
And  Coxon's  steeds,  as  fat  as  seals, 

Popp'd  folks  doon  iv  a  hurry, 

What  strange  things  hev  we  leev'd  to  see, 

On  byeth  the  road  and  river  ; 
And  there's  ne  knawin'  what  neist  they'll  de, 

Folks  now  are  a'  se  cliver. 


108  THE  CAPTAINS  AND  THE  QUAYSIDE, 

Wor  jockeyship,  as  weel  as  hacks,13 
War  then  iv  a'  their  glory ; 

And  Captains'  feats  upon  their  backs 
Shine  yit  i'  Quayside  story. 

It  wad  ha'e  se  enrich'd  yor  een, 
T'  hev  seen  wor  Sailors  ridin' : 

Their  course  a'  reckonin'  baffled  clean, 
A  horse  was  'yont  their  guidin'. 

The  Faithers  o'  the  fittin'  trade, 
The  Quayside  a' ways  pacin', 

Prefarr'd  the  Sailor  on  his  jade, 
Tiv  ony  jockey-racin'. 

For  efter  weeks  o'  nor-west  winds 
Ha'e  spitefully  been  blawin', 

And  Bankers  growlin'  at  their  frinds, 
Their  'coonts  for  ower-drawin' — 

The  "  Runnin'  Fitters"  stannin'  still — 
Their  Maisters  bizzy  statin' 

Where  then-aboots  the  leet  ships  will 
Be  for  a  fair  wind  waitin' — 

The  Quay,  just  like  some  dowly  place, 
Wi'  troubled  spurrits  haunted, 

Unless  a  luckless  ratten-chase14 
(Though  not  just  what  is  wanted) 

Dispel  the  sullen  gloom  awhile, 
Which  want  o'  coasters  'casions, 

And  myeks  the  care-worn  Fitter  smile, 
In  spite  o'  worn-out  patience — 


SOME  THIRTY  YEARS  AGO.  109 

The  seet  o'  Captains  beatin'  up 

Upon  their  leather-plaiters, 
That  luik  upon  byeth  spur  and  whup 

As  varry  hairmless  maiters — 

The  yen  airm  gannin'  like  a  flail, 

The  tother  bizzy  steerin', 
(But,  whether  by  the  heed  or  tail, 

The  course  was  oft  a  queer  un) — 

Puts  life  intiv  wor  canny  Quay, 

And  croods  it  like  a  hoppin' — 
The  Fitter  bizzy  as  a  bee, 

Wiv  a'  his  torn-buiks  oppen — 

The  Captains  runnin'  up  and  doon, 

Amang  the  Fitters  fishin' 
For  ready  torns — the  Brokers  roon' 

Bent  on  the  bit  commission. 

The  Bankers  now  can  sport  a  smile, 
And  luik  byeth  crouse  and  cobby  : 

Nay,  they've  been  knawn,  just  for  a  while, 
Te  ha'e  been  even  gobby. 

Ahint  their  lugs,  the  Customs'  sparks 

Ye  see  ne  langer  steekin' 
Their  idle  pens — for  Clearin'  Clerks 

F  shoals  are  now  heart-breekin'. 

The  skuil  that  lairnt  wor  "  tars"  te  ride, 

At  last  decline  was  showin'  : 
The  "  Torn  Act"1''  laid  its  palmy  pride, 

And  wrowt  its  utter  ruin. 


110  THE  CAPTAINS  AND  THE  QUAYSIDE, 

The  office  then  for  ships  at  neets 
Was  myed  the  post  o'  wirmin', 

In  which  a  Bishop16  tuik  his  seat 
Te  snub  a'  kinds  o'  sinnin'. 

For,  just  like  a'  the  jockey  crew, 

Wor  tars  te  win  war  tricky: 
Oft  yen  another  black  and  blue — 

Weel  corsed — sent  tiv  Awd  Nicky. 

A  flare-up  iv'ry  now  and  then, 

Tho  winnin'  post  presented  : 
Wor  tars  for  torns  like  crazy  men — 

Wor  Bishop  just  demented. 

Yen  Sunday — thorty  years  sin'  syne — 

The  sin,  O  dear,  how  cryin'  ! 
These  graceless  rogues  kick'd  up  a  shine, 

The  Bishop's  power  defy  in'  !17 

They  cors'd  and  swore,  and  storm'd  the  chair, 
Where  meek-eyed  Peace  was  seated, 

And  had  the  Reverend  Bench  been  there, 
They'd  been  ne  better  treated. 

The  Bishop,  though  a  patient  man, 

And  slawly  mov'd  tiv  anger, 
Could,  when  the  "  Sherry  Moor"  began, 

Restrain  his  wrath  ne  langer. 

A  catalogue  o'  corses  cam, 

Rowl'd  out  like  peals  o'  thunner ; 

But  though  he  did  most  pithly  damn, 
His  damns  they  didn't  scunner. 


SOME  THIRTY  YEARS  AGO.  Ill 

They  didn't  come  just  i'  the  form 

In  "Tristram  Shandy"  given; 
For  whe  minds  order,  when  a  storm 

Is  ower  the  temper  driven  ? 

The  missiles  flee — the  Captains  rage — 

The  Bishop  quits  his  quarters, 
For  fear  that  he  might  add  a  page 

Te  Fox's  Buik  o'  Martyrs. 

The  office18  neist  went  doon  te  Shiel's, 

And  robh'd  us  o'  wor  ridin'  : 
Wor  Captains  then  threw  at  their  heels, 

What  yence  they'd  sic  a  pride  iu. 

The  hacks  are  duin — the  "  gigs"  succeed, 

The  Captains  now  te  carry  : 
We've  "  comfortables"  tee,  i'steed 

O'  Jemmy  Joneson's  whurry. 

"Steam"  now  cam'  puffin'  into  play, 

And  put  an  end  te  rowin'  ; 
When  Price1"  said,  iv  his  schemin'  way, 

"  Let's  try  the  chep  at  towin'." 

He  puff'd  and  blew,  and  splash' d  aboot, 

Awd  Coaly  Tyne  alarmin', 
Te  find  a  whalo,  where  on'y  troot 

Had  up  till  then  been  swarmin'. 

The  'stonish'd  folks  a'  starin'  stan', 

Can't  credit  what  they're  seein', 
A  curious  gimcrank,  myed  by  man. 

Work  like  a  leevin'  bein'  ! 


112  THE  CAPTAINS  AND  THE  QUAYSIDE, 

The  Keelnien  lie  upon  their  oars — 
Survey  it : — still  they  dinnet 

See  how  it  works  : — at  last  yen  roars, 
"  The  Deevil  mun  be  in  it." 

But  deevil  here,  or  deevil  there, 
This  maister-piece  o'  schemin' 

Suin  myed  e'en  "  comfortables"  rare, 
And  now  a's  duin  by  steamiu'. 

Reid20  then  improv'd  wor  trip  te  Shiel's, 
And  Tynemouth  i'  the  season  : 

A  kind  o'  hearse  on  bogie  wheels — 
A  paten'  press  for  scpueezin' : 

He  clapp'd  and  call'd  it  "  omnibus," 

Because  it  six  could  cany, 
When  pack'd  like  awd  hay  iv  a  truss, 

Or  corp  they're  gaun  te  barry. 

Wi'  bodies  wedged,  and  dove-tail'd  knees, 
And  sadly  sometimes  heated, 

Folks  crab-like  gan,  and  ill  at  ease, 
A'  bein'  side-ways  seated. 

The  Gigmen  swore,  and  clench'd  their  fists, 
When  at  their  porter  swiggin', 

That  sic  unseetly  coffin-kists 
Sud  niver  run  doon  giggin'. 

And  sartinly  they  didn't  fyell 

Some  time  the  storm  te  weather : — 

At  last,  Steam21  tuik  the  road  his-sel, 
And  floor'd  them  a'  tegither. 


SOME  THIRTY  YEARS  AGO.  113 

The  struggle  now  lies  just  atweeu 

Steam  by  the  land  and  waiter  ; 
But  vict'ry — folks  wi'  sharper  een 

Say  now's  a  settled  ruaiter. 

Sud  Tommy  Thompson  now  luik  out, 

He'd  ax  for  Joneson's  whurry, 
And  what  the  de'il  folks  war  aboot, 

In  sic  a  horry-scorry. 

"  They  war,"  he'd  say,  "  a  settled  race, 

"  And  sometimes  varry  murry ; 
"  But  now  it's  quite  another  place, 

"  Sin'  Jemmy  Joneson's  whurry. 

"  Folks  then  had  time,  away  frae  hyem, 

"  When  ony  crony  meetin', 
"  Te  stand  and  ax  for  bairns  and  dyem, 

"  And  gi'e  their  nebs  a  weetin'. 

"  But  now  they  nowther  stop  nor  stay, 

"  Te  ax  a  frind,  '  Hoo  de  ye  V 
"  Or  moisten,  wi'  a  drop,  their  clay, 

"  Wi'  '  Maw  best  sarvice  te  ye.' 

"  For  when  a  passenger  yence  hears 

"  The  whussell  sharp  and  shrilly, 
"  He's  myest  at  Shiel's  afore  his  ears 

'•'  Loss  sense  o'  soonds  se  thrilly." 

The  Bran'lin'  Junction  diz  the  syeni, 

If  Sun'erland  ye  visit : 
Ye' re  iv  a  jiffy  out  and  hyem, 

Se  varry  suin  Steam  diz  it. 


114  a  keemman's  tribute  to  a  friend. 

What  folks  will  de  tc  mend  this  speed, 

It's  nut  se  easy  seein' ; 
Unless  they  tyek't  inte  their  heed 

Te  try  their  hands  at  fleein'. 

This  constant  runnin'  up  and  doon, 

This  iverlastin'  motion, 
That  horries  all  frae  toon  te  toon, 

And  ower  the  boondless  ocean, 

Mun  myek  Steam  scatter,  far  and  wide, 
The  seeds  o'  useful  knowledge, 

Wi'  Penny  Postage'-2  on  his  side, 
Mair  pow'rful  than  a  college. 


A  KEELMAN'S  TRIBUTE  TO  A  FRIEND. 

The  heed  that  held  a'  Quayside  lare, 
Was  maister,  tee,  of  all  airts  there, 
Frae  Love-lane  up  te  Grundin'-chare, 

Was  Faddy's.-3 

The  mysteries  o'  the  fittin'  trade, 
And  broker's  craft,  as  weel,  it's  said, 
But  leetly  on  the  shoothers  laid, 

O'  Faddy. 


A    KEELMAN  S    TRIBUTE    TO    A    FRIEND.  115 

The  keelman's  dues  tiv  iv'ry  rack, 
What  they  sud  hev  for  coals  browt  back, 
And  lyin'  tides,  just  tiv  a  plack, 

Knew  Faddy. 

'Boot  winds  and  tides — the  main  and  sea, 
And  where  a  fleet  o'  ships  sud  be, 
That's  laug  been  luik'd  for  o'  the  quay, 

Knew  Faddy. 

The  shoals  and  sand-banks  o'  the  Tyne, 
Kept  there,  it  seems,  by  "  reet  divine," 
Where  steam-boats  sit,  war  knawn  quite  fine, 

By  Faddy. 

The  brawls  aboot  a  lyin'  tide — 

Or  snaffled  torns  (far  warse  te  bide) — 

"War  easy  maiters  te  decide, 

For  Faddy. 

Aw  tell  the',  plainly,  te  thy  teeth, 
Thou  did  thy  warst  te  huz,  grim  Deeth, 
When  thou  cam  here  te  stop  the  breeth 

O'  Faddy. 

But  now  he's  gyen  for  iver  mair, 
And  as  wor  guide,  we'll  miss  him  sair, 
For  there  is  nyen  we  warse  could  spare, 

Than  Faddy. 

He  started  life  a  keel  P.  D., 
Spent  fifty  years  upon  the  quay ; 
And  now,  may  bliss  the  portion  be 

O'  Faddy. 


(110) 


A  DIRGE  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  COALY. 

Mourn,  pitmen  all,  on  Tyne  and  Wear ! 
Put  on  your  crape,  and  drop  a  tear 
On  Coaly's  much-lamented  bier — 

At  last  he's  deed  ; 
And  byens  and  charcoal  now,  aw  hear, 

Reign  iv  his  steed. 

He  hez  had  mony  a  tryin'  boot, 
But,  like  his  maisters  i'  the  goot, 
He  suin  agyen  gat  hirpled  out, 

Te  cheer  his  frinds  ; 
And  then,  as  fresh  as  ony  troot, 

Their  trouble  ends. 

And  but  for  this  black,  deedly  blaw, 
That  laid  yor  benefactor  law, 
When  him  ye  niver  healthier  saw, 

It  plain  appears 
He  might  hev  leev'd,  there's  nyen  can  knaw 

How  mony  years. 

And  then  te  fall  by  sic  a  hand  ! 
A  fellow21  wiv  a  conjurin'  wand, 
Back'd  by  a  motley  black-airt  band, 

Fitjbr  the  stocks, 
A  phantom  raised  te  starve  the  land — 

A  Jack  i'  the  Box  ! 


A    DIRGE    ON    THE    DEATH    OF    COALY.  117 

But  now  ye'll  niver  see  him  mair, 

In  spite  of  a'  yor  norsin'  care 

Te  keep  him  healthy,  brisk,  and  spare, 

Nut  ower  weel — 
Te  miss  the  goot,  and  hit  the  fair 

And  even  keel. 

Mourn,  iv'ry  man  and  mother's  son, 
Frae  new  breet  byutes  tiv  awd  half-shoon  ! 
There's  nowt  te  keep  yor  hearts  abuin — 

Yor  Coaly's  gyen  :25 
Ye  now  mun  dance  te  Joyce's  tuin, 

Charcoal  and  byen. 

Mourn,  a'  the  fitters  o'  the  Quay ! 
And  a'  the  swarms  o'  Brokers,  tee, 
That  tell  the  Captains  mony  a  lee,  ■ 

Te  myek  them  fix  ! 
Yor  glass  is  run — an  end  we'll  see 

Of  a'  yor  tricks 

Ye  a'  may  wander  te  the  woods, 

Clad  in  hard  labour's  hyemly  duds, 

In  weel-greas'd  shoon  stuck  full  o'  muds, 

Charcoal  te  born  ; 
Or  else,  te  gain  yor  livelihoods, 

Byen-grubbers  torn. 

We've  lang  been  plagued  wi'  the  new  leet, 
"Which  Tories  foam  aboot  and  freet, 
But  what  is  it  te  this  new  heat, 

This  blackin'  ball, 
That's  push'd  awd  Coaly  frev  his  seat, 

And  ruined  all  ? 


lis  Joyce's  patent  stove. 

In  sackloth,  then,  and  ashes,  mourn — 
Charcoal  in  coorse — ower  Coaly's  urn, 
For  lie  can  niver  mair  return, 

Te  cheer  yor  heart  lis, 
And  bring  ye  back,  frae  Lethe's  burn, 

Yor  canny  berths. 


JOYCE'S  PATENT  STOVE. 

"  It  is  quite  evident,  that  litis  charcoal  must  diffuse  in  the  apartment  as  much 
carbonic  acid  during  its  combustion  as  an  equal  weight  of  any  other  charcoal ; 
that  it  must  vitiate  the  air  in  the  same  degree  ;  and  that  the  same  accidents  may 
be  produced  by  it  as  by  other  causes.  It  is  equally  evident,  that  it  can  produce 
no  more  heat  than  the  same  quantity  of  common  charcoal,  as  it  contains  no  more 
combustible  matter." — Report  of  Gay  Lussac  to  the  Institute  of  France. 

Hurrah  for  awd  Coaly  agyen  ! 

He's  hale  and  as  hearty  as  iver : 
The  chep  wi'  the  charcoal  and  byen, 

Now  fin's  him  a  true  fyel-me-niver. 

He  tuik  his  traps  ower  te  France, 
But  Mounseer  was  far  ower  cunnin' : 

He  saw  through  the  cheat  at  a  glance, 
Which  gull'd  a'  the  noddies  i'  Lunnen. 

He  talk'd  of  a  fine  healthy  heat, 
Myed  out  of  a  piece  o'  brunt  stob  ; 

But  on'y  lie  doon  wid  at  neet, 

I'  the  morn  ye'll  be  caud  i'  the  gob. 


Joyce's  patent  stove  119 

His  pipe  was  put  out  iv  a  whiff — 
He  couldn't  stand  Parleyvou's  shrug, 

But  slunk  away,  nioungin',  as  if 
A  louse  had  dropt  intiv  his  lug. 

Thus  Coaly  his  foe  fairly  floor'd, 

(The  blackest  he  iver  had  seen,) 
And  his  frinds  te  1heir  quiet  restor'd, 

When  they  thowt  Deeth  was  closin'  his  eeu. 

He's  agyen  i'  the  hands  of  his  frinds, 
"Where  he's  often  far'd  badly  enough  : 

They  dose  him  wi'  drugs  they  call  vends, 
Or  gorge  him  wiv  oppen-trade  stuff. 

He's  sometimes  as  fat  as  a  seal. 

At  others  as  lean  as  a  craw  : 
Te-day  he's  as  brisk  as  an  eel — 

Te-morn  he's  a'  doon  i'  the  jaw. 

He's  now  nobbit  luikin'  so-so — 
He's  pursy,  and  puff'd  out  wi'  fat : 

The  goot's  just  beginnin'  te  show, 
And  he'll  suin  be  as  lean  as  a  hit. 


(120) 


THE  HUMBLE  PETITION  OF  THE  SAND 
BANKS  IN  THE  TYNE, 

SEPTEMBER  17,  1832. 
TO  THE  MAYOR  AND  CORPORATION  OF  NEWCASTLE. 

Wor  petition  gans  te  show,  Mr.  Mayor, 
That  a  vile  reformin'  crew,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Want  te  rob  us  o'  wor  reets, 
And  the  steamers  o'  their  seats, 
I'  the  sunny  summer  neets,  Mr.  Mayor. 

The  scullermen  besides,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Will  loss  their  lyin'  tides,  Mr.  Mayor, 
I'  tyekiu'  out  the  folks, 
That  dinnet  like  the  jokes 
Their  steekin  oft  provokes,  Mr.  Mayor. 

Sic  Radicals  but  mean,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Te  thraw  sand  i'  yor  een,  Mr.  Mayor, 
I'  myekin'  ye  believe, 
While  laughin"  i'  their  sleeve, 
That  yor  ruin  we'll  achieve,  Mr.  Mayor 

Ha'e  we  nut  for  ages  stood,  Mr.  Mayor, 
The  force  o'  mony  a  flood,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Protected  by  yor  power, 
Up  te  this  precious  hour, 
As  joint-stocks  safe  and  sure,  Mr.  Mayor? 


THE    PETITION    OP    THE    SAND-BANKS.  121 

But  sic  fellows  mun  be  crack'd,  Mr.  Mayor, 
That  wad  se  madly  act,  Mr.  Mayor : 
Hez  nut  wor  sages  said, 
That  "  wi'  huz  grew  up  yor  trade," 
That's  gowd  i'  gowpens  made,  Mr.  Mayor  ? 

There's  wisdom  stamp'd  by  time,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Which  te  follow  now's  a  crime,  Mr.  Mayor, 
In  these  degenerate  days, 
When,  just  like  cassen  claes, 
Are  treat  wor  "  good  awd  ways,"  Mr.  Mayor. 

Yor  Conservators,  tee,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Frae  Hedwin  te  the  sea,  Mr.  Mayor : 

Then  surely  we  sud  share 

The  Corporation's  care 
O'  things  that  awdish  are,  Mr.  Mayor. 

There's  nowt  that  aw  can  nyem,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Wad  be  a  greeter  shem,  Mr.  Mayor, 

Then  te  let  this  levellin'  clan, 

As  bad  as  Irish  Dan, 
Effect  their  hellish  plan,  Mr.  Mayor. 

Wor  "union"  wi'  the  Tyne,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Is  held  by  laws  divine,  Mr.  Mayor : 

Then  aren't  we  as  free 

As  Toon  or  Trinity — 
Wor  reets  as  "  vested,"  tee,  Mr.  Mayor  ? 

Just  moont  yor  specks  an'  read,  Mr   Mayor, 
What  a  curse  is  o'  their  heed,  Mr.  Mayor, 
That  shift  the  marks  o'  land — 
And  the  syem,  ne  doobt,  o'  sand, 
That  in  yor  river  stand,  Mr.  Mayor. 

R 


122  THE    ALDERMAN  S    LAMENT. 

Then  muster  iv'ry  trade,  Mr.  Mayor, 
And  "  mystery,"  te  yor  aid,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Te  stem  the  sweepin'  tide 
Whereon  these  deevils  ride, 
Resolv'd  te  lower  wor  pride,  Mr.  Mayor, 

For  sud  they  yence  succeed,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Yor  doom  will  he  decreed,  Mr.  Mayor  : 
The  charter  o'  yor  toon, 
The  mace,  the  sword,  and  goon, 
Will  te  the  winds  he  strewn,  Mr.  Mayor. 

Tell  them  a'  te  len'  a  hand,  Mr.  Mayor, 
Nor  shilly-shallyin'  stand,  Mr.  Mayor ; 
For  when  wor  glass  is  run, 
Yor  awn  will  he  hegun, 
And  emptied  varry  suin,  Mr.  Mayor. 

Then  on  wor  marrow-bones,  Mr.  Mayor, 
And  i'  the  humblest  tones,  Mr.  Mayor, 
If  ye' 11  this  torrent  stay, 
We'll  for  ye  pithly  pray, 
For  iver  and  a  day,  Mr.  Mayor. 


THE  ALDERMAN'S  LAMENT. 

Fareweel,  fareweel,  wor  good  awd  ways, 

And  a'  wor  jobbin'  maiters  ! 
We've  fa' en  at  last  on  evil  days 

For  canny  corporators. 


THE    ALDERMAN'S    LAMENT.  123 

On  leases  lang,  and  ballast-quays, 

In  Corporation  glory, 
We've  flourish' d  like  the  "  green  bay  trees," 

Se  fam'J  iv  Eastren  story. 

But  iv'ry  lease,  whate'er  its  date, 

Mun  end  ;  but,  O  !  how  cruel, 
That  wor's  mun  share  the  common  fate, 

Wi'  ne  chance  o'  renewal ! 

We've  lang  foreseen,  wi'  heavy  hearts, 

This  awful  mischief  brewin', 
An'  that  wor  enemies'  vile  arts 

Wad  brin<?  aboot  wor  ruin. 


■*o 


Then,  hinnies,  i'  the  Hoose  abuin, 

List  te  wor  dowly  ditty  : 
O  !  come  te  wor  assistance  suin — 

Lords,  luik  on  huz  wi'  pity. 

Ye've  a' ways  been  wor  prop  and  stay, 

A  kind  o'  fyel-me-niver  : 
Then  let  them  nut,  we  humbly  pray, 

Put  out  wor  pipes  for  iver. 

For,  mind,  we've  a" ways  back'd  ye  through, 

In  times  o'  squally  weather, 
And  if  ye  dinnet  help  us  now, 

We'll  a'  be  swamp' d  thegither. 

And  if  we  fall,  away  gans  all — 
Chorch,  King,  and  Constitution  ! 

A  wreck,  belaw  a  murky  pall 
Of  reckless  rivolution. 


124  THE    ALDERMAN'S    LAMENT. 

The  Hoose  belaw,  ower  weel  we  knaw, 

Ou  it  the  least  te  lippen : 
They're  black  sheep  nearly  yen  and  a', 

Like  Ord  and  Cuddy  Rippon. 

Ax  a'  the  barkin',  leein'  loons, 
'Boot  reet  and  wrang  oft  gobbin', 

If  strippin'  Aldermen  of  goons 
Is  nut  akin  te  robbin'  ? 

It's  nut  se  much  for  self  we  plead, 
Wor  nests  bein'  gaily  feather'd  : 

Wor  country's  fate  it  is  we  dreed, 
If  this  storm  is  nut  weather' d  ; 

For  though  we've  nut  inrich'd  the  toon, 

Wi'  Corporation  rental, 
We've  a' ways,  in  wor  hat  and  goon, 

Been  thowt  quite  ornamental. 

And  then  the  "  feast,"  whe'll  garnish  it 
Wi'  flashes  wise  and  witty  ? 

On  idle  jades  in  judgment  sit, 
And  weekly  clear  wor  kitty  ? 

Whe'll  then  the  Judge,  wi'  posies  neat, 
Attend  se  fine  and  flantin'  ? 

"  Lord  'Size  wad  be  a  sorry  seet, 
Wi'  them  and  huz  awantin 

And  what  wad  syev  its  vested  reets, 
Or  sand  banks  i'  the  river, 

If  yence  the  toon  its  "  northern  leets" 
And  props  sud  loss  for  iver  ? 


THE    PEA-JACKET.  1  25 

Then,  hinnies,  keep  us  where  we  are 

For  life — woi  jobs  just  suit  us ; 
And  Chorch,  and  Bench,  and  Civic  Chair, 

Wad  a'  be  bare  without  us. 

And  let  us  doze  wor  days  away, 

In  ease  and  fouth  o'  feedin' : 
At  last  in  tortle-soup  wor  clay 

Presarve  te  times  succeedin'. 

But  if  we  mun  be  driven  forth, 

Deprived  o'  rank  and  station, 
What  then  we'll  loss,  cast  up  the  worth, 

And  grant  us  "  compensation." 


THE  PEA-JACKET. 

Wey,  Mally,  maw  hinny  !  what  thinks  te  aw've  seen  ? 

(And  aw  niver  saw  nowt  half  se  dashin')  : 
Aw've  seen  i'  the  toon,  if  aw  may  trust  maw  een, 

Maw  Pea20  just  the  pink  o'  the  fashion  ! 

Frae  the  cut,  and  the  claith,  and  the  horn-buttons,  tee, 

Aw  said  te  mawsel',  aw  was  sarten 
The  fellow  had  snaffled  maw  best  Sunday  Pea, 

Thou  a'ways  said  aw  was  se  smart  in. 

If  he'd  had  breeches  on,  a'  lowse  at  the  knee, 

And  a  chow  iv  his  cheek  o'  rag  backy, 
Thou'd  sworn,  as  he  swagger'd  doon  Newcassel  Quay, 

That  he  was  thy  awn  canny  Jacky. 


12  (J  THE    l'EA-JACKET. 

AVor  skij>per  cam  up,  and  aw  tell'd  him  maw  tyel, 

The  Pea  i'  maw  heed  a' ways  runnin' : 
"  Wey,  man,"  says  he,  "  surely  thou  isn't  thysel', 

"  Nut  te  knaw  what's  heen  gawn  on  i'  Lunnen. 

"  The  awd  Corporations,  the  Doctors  a'  say, 
"  That  meet  at  the  Hoose  call'd  St.  Stephen, 

"  Are  at  their  last  gasp,  and  by  next  New  Year's  Day 
"  There  winnet  be  yen  o'  them  leevin'. 

"  It  lang  hez  been  said  they  war  gannin'  te  pot, 
"  But  wor  awn  set  it  a'  doon  for  leein', 

"  Till  the  Mayor  and  the  Aldermen  a'  tuik  the  rot, 
"  And  are  now  just  like  rotten  sheep  deein'. 

"  Aw've  just  been  up  street — the  toon's  iv  a  low, 
"  And  aw's  frighten' d  some  mischief  is  brewin', 

"  As  a  deed  Corporation's  not  worth  an  awd  chow, 
"  An'  aw  wadn't  say  much  for  the  new  un. 

"  For  the  cocked  hat  and  goon,  that  govern'd  the  toon, 
"  I'  the  days  of  awd  Alderman  Blackett, 

"  The  Aldermen  myekin'  are  gawn  te  lay  doon, 
"  An  put  on  a  keelman's  Pea  Jacket  !" 

Feb.  14,  1836. 


(12?) 


THE  MOVEMENT. 

Where  canny  Newcassel  will  gan  te  at  last, 

Is  far  ayont  maw  understandin' ; 
But  if  it  gan  on  as  it's  duin  for  years  past, 

It'll  suin  aboot  Hexham  be  landin'. 

For  toon  within  toon,  and  street  efter  street, 
Grainger  pops  up — without  iver  heedin' 

How  they're  to  be  fill'd ;  unless  some  new  leet 
Shows  him  folks  will  like  rabbits  be  breedin'. 

But  this  railroad-pace  of  increasin'  wor  race, 
Wad  be  torn'd  topsy-torvy  by  steamin' : 

The  folks,  now-a-days,  hev  ne  dwellin'  place — 
Of  hoose  or  of  hyem  niver  dreamin'. 

This,  howiver,  ne  doot,  is  Grainger's  luik-out — 
The  greet  Court-and-Market-Exchanger  ; 

And  wors  iv'ry  inch  o'  the  grund  te  dispute, 
When  the  props  o'  wor  toon  are  in  danger. 

The  Markets  are  gyen,  exceptin'  just  yen 
Which  the  Cooncil  kept  out  of  his  clutches ; 

And  the  Courts  he'll  grab  suin,  if  they  let  him  alyen  ; 
But  the  day  he'll  repent  he  them  touches. 

For  the  crabby  awd  dealers  in  ling,  cod,  and  brats, 
And  the  vurgins  that  tempt  us  wi'  nice  maiden  skyet, 

Will  niver,  aw  hope,  be  the  gudgeons  or  flats, 
Tefloonder  aboot  i'  this  huge  movement-net. 


128  THE    MOVEMENT. 

He'll  neist  try  tho  Quay — the  Custom  Hoose,  tee — 

The  Brig — and  wor  awd  coaly  River ; 
But  in  spite  o'  the  warst  that  a'  Grainger  can  de, 

They're  wofawn — and  we'll  keep  them  for  iver. 

They're  cronies  we've  lang  been  accustom'd  te  see  ; 

For  some  o'  them  battled  afore,  lang  and  sair ; 
And  though  we're  grown  grey  i'  the  cause  o'  the  Quay, 

We  hev  pluck  eneugh  left  for  a  few  tussels  mair. 

They're  fixtors,  some  awd-fashioned  bodies  may  say, 
But  where  can  we  now  for  sec  rarities  surch ; 

For  a  man  walkin'  off  wiv  a  Play  Hoose  te-day, 
May  te-morn  slip  away  wi'  St.  Nicholas'  Chorch. 

Let  the  Trinity  folks  o'  their  moorin's  tyek  care — 
Let  them  double  their  watch — or,  as  sure  as  a  gun, 

They'll  wyeken  some  morn,  leavin'  Trinity  Chare, 
And  driftin'  tiv  Elswick — afore  a'  be  duin. 

The  Radical  movement  is  now  all  the  go, 
But  little  like  wors,  as  ye'll  easily  guess, 

When  aw  tell  ye  that  Grainger  can  move,  te  and  fro, 
A  chorch  or  a  chapel,  like  figurs  at  chess. 

The  Cooncil,  then,  led  by  wor  brave  British  Tar,27 
Mun  battle  the  watch  for  wor  canny  awd  toon ; 

And  byeth  tar  and  feather  the  hallion  that  dar' 
Te  hoist  his-sel'  up  by  haulin'  huz  doon. 

January  29,  1839. 


(129) 


A  GLANCE  AT  POLLY  TECHNIC.28 

Aw've  travelled  East  as  weel  as  West, 
At  Carlisle  and  the  Sea  aw've  been  ; 

And  i'  maw  time,  aw  think  the  niyest 
Of  a'  the  marvels  here  aw've  seen. 

At  Grainger's  warks  aw've  wonder'd  sair, 
Aw've  stared  at  a'  the  feats  o'  Steam ; 

But  at  the  'Sociation29  mair — 

'Till  now,  of  a'  that's  grand  the  cream. 

But  this  is  all  a  baggy  tyel ; 

For  now  the  seet  just  torns  maw  brain, 
Sin'  Polly  Technic  cam  hersel', 

Wiv  a'  her  wonders  in  her  train. 

She's  gyen  an'  ransack'd  iv'ry  pairt, 

For  rarities  of  iv'ry  kind, 
As  weel  of  Natur  as  of  Airt — 

The  pith  o'  mony  a  maister-mind. 

Aw  glower' d  aboot  the  Pictur  Place — 
Aw  ax'd  for  Judy30  o'  the  "Hutch;" 

But  Judy's  fycce  aw  cudn't  trace — 
The  want  o'  Judy  vex'd  me  much. 

She  was  the  Corporation  key — 

Kept  a'  within  the  "Hutch"  secure: 

Though  crook'd,  se  crabb'd  and  fierce  was  she, 
Nyen  durst  play  peep  agyen  her  power. 


130         A  GLANCE  AT  POLLY  TECUNIC 

Her  temper  then  was  nearly  gycn, 

(Though  at  the  best  aw've  seen  a  sweeter)  ; 

Yit  as  aw  sowt  her,  aw  land  yen 

That  seem'd  a  crustier-luikin'  creatur. 

The  awd  chep  wi  the  lantren  mun 
Ha'e  leev'd  amang  some  Border  clan, 

Where  byeth  his  lantren  and  the  sun, 
It  tuik  te  find  an  honest  man. 

There's  Belted  Will,  the  Border  chief, 
If  he  wad  speak,  could  thraw  some  leet 

On  where  se  rankly  j>rowled  the  thief, 
That  honest  men  war  bad  te  meet. 

The  Chinese  pipe  and  razor  seem 

Te  'mind  us  o'  the  opium  fray, 
Browt  on  us  by  the  puzzenin'  scheme — 

Then  hear  what  Faw  Fum  hez  te  say : — 

"  War  te  the  razor,  if  ye  will 

"  Nut  frae  yor  smugglin'  system  cease, 

"  Or  keep  away  yor  poppy  pill, 

"And  then  we'll  smoke  the  pipe  o'  peace." 

And  here's  maw  horny,  letter'd  frien', 
The  corner-styen  of  a'  wor  lare : 

It  is  the  finest  thing  aw've  seen — 
O,  dear !  aw's  glad  te  see  it  there. 

Some  fuils  may  giggle  at  the  nyem 

O'  byeth  the  Hornbuick  and  Tom  Thumb ; 

But  where  is  it,  if  nut  frae  them, 
That  a'  yor  Polly  Technics  come? 


A    GLANCE    AT    POLLY    TECHNIC.  131 

The  "  branks,"  a  kind  o'  brake,  is  here, 
Wor  faithers,  when  a'  else  was  vain, 

Oompell'd  the  noisy  jades  te  weer, 
Whene'er  their  clappers  ran  amain. 

Eh  !  "  nick-sticks  ?  nick-sticks  ?"  what  are  they  ? 

O  !  now  aw  hae'd  : — they're  used  at  hyem ; 
And  when  kept  decently  in  play, 

The  branks  was  but  an  empty  nyem. 

The  "cut-porse"31  points  te  by-gyen  times, 
When  truth  was  niver  sowt  in  wells — 

When  Justice  punish'd  captains'  crimes 
Without  the  fash  o'  weights  and  skyells. 

The  Hutch,  where  Corporation  men 

Had  follow'd  lang  their  cut-porse  wark, 

Luik'd  varry  like  a  conjuror's  den, 

Wi'  nick-nacks  cramm'd,  like  Noah's  ark. 

A  hag32  kept  here  a  constant  watch, 
Te  gaird  the  heed  magician's33  seat : 

Twe  seers,34  wiv  een  that  nowt  could  match, 
War  set  te  see  that  a'  went  reet. 

And  here's  wor  hatless  Minstrel,33  tee, 

That  roam'd  aboot  wor  canny  city, 
And  charm'd  the  guzzlers  o'  the  quay 

Wi'  mony  a  simple,  hyem-spun  ditty. 

Aw  think  aw  hear  him  fiddlin'  still, 

And  on  Suit  Maffa  sweetly  strummin', 

Which  hclp'd  away  wi'  mony  a  gill, 

'Mang  fuddlin'  men  and  queerish  women. 


132  LINES    ON    JOHN    SMITH. 

But  aw  nam  end  maw  simple  tyel — 
It's  now  ower  lang,  aw  sadly  fear : 

Te  Polly  praise,  there's  nyen  can  fyel — 
Wor  bairns  will  praise  her  mony  a  year. 


LINES  ON  JOHN  SMITH, 

COMMONLY  CALLED  "JOHN  THE  BARBER,' 

Who  died  on  Gateshead  Fell,  August  17, 1827,  aged  96. 

Poor  John,  thy  pole's  no  more  display'd, 
Thy  wig-blocks  now  are  quite  decay'd, 
Thy  razors  all  to  rust  are  doom'd, 
Thy  hone  defaced,  thy  oil  consumed, 
Thy  worn-out  strop  hangs  idly  by, 
Thy  brush  a  stump,  thy  lather  dry, 
Thy  tongs  lie  cold  upon  the  shelf, 
Thy  comb  as  toothless  as  thyself — 
All  emblems  of  thy  earthly  house, 
Now  stamp'd  by  Death  unfit  for  use. 
But  there's  a  promise  that  ensures 
A  renovation  of  thy  powers, 
Beyond  that  awful,  unknown  river, 
Where  thou' It  be  set  to  last  for  ever. 


(133) 


THE  AUTHOR'S  ARM-CHAIR. 

Thou  now  hast  been  my  steady  friend 

For  nearly  five  and  thirty  years ; 
And  ready  thy  support  to  lend, 

Amidst  the  world's  ungrateful  sneers. 

Unlike  those  seats  of  greater  note, 
Mine  was  not  won  'midst  scenes  of  strife  : 

I  must  admit  that  it  was  bought — 
But  then  it  was  a  seat  for  life. 

Thy  moral  worth's  above  all  praise — 
Thou  dost  not  'twixt  opinions  halt : 

Thy  feet  ne'er  swerve  from  duty's  ways — 
Thou'rt  upright  even  to  a  fault. 

Full  many  an  hour,  right  happily, 

We've  spent  o'er  books  with  knowledge  stored 
Full  many  a  cup  I've  quaff 'd  in  thee, 

When  seated  at  the  social  board. 

And  when  the  bottle's  potent  powers 

Had  sent  our  wigs  some  half-way  round. 

And  wing'd  with  mirth  the  fleeting  hours. 
A  backhold  still  in  thee  I  found. 

Thy  joints  are  creaking  now  with  age — 

Mine  get  more  rigid  daily,  too  : 
A  few  more  seasons  on  this  stage, 

Must  bring  us  to  our  last  adieu. 


134  THE    AUTHORS    FAVOURITE    DOG,    PINCHER. 

And  when  the  curtain  falls  at  last, 
Should  any  one  our  story  tell, 

May  this  the  sentence  be  that's  pass'd — 
"  They  both  their  parts  have  acted  well.' 


THE  AUTHOR'S  FAVOURITE  DOG,  PINCHER, 


Peace,  honest  Pincher  !  to  thy  manes  : 
Relieved  from  all  thy  worldly  pains, 
Thy  muzzle's  vile  and  galling  chains, 

Poor  Pincher. 

And  if  dog-virtues,  after  this, 
Have  any  claim  to  future  bliss, 
A  rich  reward  thou  cannot  miss, 

Poor  Pincher. 

For  never  was  a  nobler  brute — 

More  patriotic — resolute — 

When  danger  drew  his  courage  out, 

Than  Pincher. 

From  damage  oft,  by  noise  and  foam, 
He  kept  his  trust,  from  those  that  roam : 
For  gallant  in  defence  of  home, 

Was  Pincher. 


36 


the  author's  favourite  dgg,  pincher.       135 

When  wandering  dealers,  with  their  wares, 
Horn-buttons,  specks,  and  small  affairs, 
Approach' d — then  roused  were  all  the  cares 

Of  Pincher. 

A  lion  to  repel  attack, 

A  lamb  with  children  on  his  back  ; 

And  duty's  line  the  daily  track 

Of  Pincher. 

When  winds  of  winter  whistle  round, 
And  darkness  reigns — in  sleep  profound 
Secure  we  were — kept  safe  and  sound 

By  Pincher. 

He  was  no  silly,  senseless  goose, 
That  eats  and  sleeps  to  little  use  : 
The  seal  and  safeguard  of  the  house, 

Was  Pincher. 

Then  why,  Death,  didst  thou  send  so  soon 
Thy  mandate — and,  thy  work  to  crown, 
Thy  ugly  scythe,  that  levell'd  down 

Poor  Pincher  ? 

Why  not  some  senseless  cur  assail, 
With  bladder  dangling  at  his  tail, 
And  spare  me  this  distressing  wail 

For  Pincher  ? 

To  take  such  off  in  Nature's  bloom, 
Is  merely  making  others  room  : 
But  real  worth,  I  grudgo  the  tomb, 

Like  Pincher's. 


136  THE    AUTHORS    FAVOURITE    DOG,    PINCHER. 

The  solemn  psalm  has  oft  been  sung, 
And  holy  earth  has  oft  been  flung 
O'er  heads,  where  tongues  less  honest  hung 

Than  Pinchers. 

In  thy  expressive,  short,  Dutch  face, 
Which  did  the  powers  of  speech  embrace, 
I  easily  could  thy  meaning  trace, 

Poor  Pincher. 

Thy  tit-bit  to  secure,  no  more 
Thou' It  meet  me  at  the  parlour-door, 
With  looks  that  said,  "  A  little  for 

"  Poor  Pincher." 

Beneath  the  pear-tree's  peaceful  shade, 
Secure  from  sexton's  pick  or  spade, 
In  everlasting  rest  is  laid 

Poor  Pincher. 

Then  fare-thee-well,  my  faithful  friend  ! 
A  Ions:  farewell !  for  here  must  end 
Our  friendship,  and  the  lines  I've  penn'd 

On  Pincher. 


(137) 


ON  PARTING  WITH  A  FAVOURITE  MARE. 

O  Doll  !  had  I  the  muse  of  Burns, 
Who  Maillie's  loss  so  sweetly  mourns, 

I'd  pour  thy  praises  forth  ; 
And  all  thy  matchless  goodness  trace, 
In  verse  as  easy  as  thy  pace, 

And  suited  to  thy  worth. 

We've  dander  d  on  for  years  together, 
Through  all  varieties  of  weather, 

To  market,  church,  and  business ; 
And  only  once  thou'st  misbehaved, 
When  on  thy  knees  was  humbly  craved 

My  pardon  and  forgiveness. 

No  windmill,  with  its  fluttering  sail, 
When  driven  briskly  by  the  gale, 

E'er  made  thee  rear  and  caper  : 
No  creature  is  from  vice  more  free, 
Thy  master's  will  is  law  to  thee, 

Disdaining  senseless  vapour. 

There's  none  can  value  such  a  mare, 
But  those  who  deal  in  rhyming  ware, 

Whose  motto  's  "  Luck  in  leisure." 
Thy  back  is  just  the  poet's  seat, 
Thy  steps  are  all  poetic  feet, 

And  beat  in  tuneful  measure. 

T 


138  ON    PARTING    WITH    A    FAVOURITE    MARE. 

Thou  dost  thy  present  master  please ; 
And  on  thy  back,  with  perfect  ease, 

He  rhymes  and  rides  at  pleasure. 
And  howsoe'er  zigzag  he  roam, 
Thou  never  tak'st  him  past  his  home  : 

Indeed  thou  art  a  treasure  ! 

Thus  show  thyself  a  beast  of  sense, 
And  claim,  without  the  least  offence, 

Thy  title  to  good  breeding. 
Before  thy  master  never  drink, 
Nor  of  his  neighbour's  pasture  think, 

However  good  the  feeding. 

And  should  the  produce  of  the  grape 
Induce  him  e'er  his  course  to  shape 

Out  of  the  usual  track, 
Let  neither  hand  nor  heel  betray 
Thee,  to  forsake  the  homeward  way, 

Nor  cast  him  from  thy  back. 

And  when  thy  day  of  use  is  past, 
May'st  thou  thy  recompense  at  last 

Obtain  : — for  thy  good  manners 
Demand,  at  least,  a  pleasant  nook  : 
I  mean  a  pasture  near  a  brook, 

Secure  from  ruthless  tanners. 

There  may'st  thou  toyte  about,  till  age 
Unfits  thee  for  this  mortal  stage, 

And  life  is  nearly  over. 
Then  may  that  surface  which  thee  fed, 
With  snowdrops  deck  thy  dying  bed, 

Form'd  of  the  softest  clover. 


(139) 


A  CHARACTER. 

See  Scrub,  of  carping,  grasping  fame, 
Now  stretch'd  upon  his  funeral  bier: 

A  perfect  synonynie  his  name, 

For  all  that's  mean  and  little  here. 

He  passed  through  life  without  respect, 
Quite  unregretted  took  his  flight : 

Left  nought  behind  which  can  protect 
His  memory  from  oblivion's  night. 

Dogmatic,  snappish,  keen,  and  sour, 
A  hint  could  blow  him  into  strife. 

Self,  ruled  him  with  a  sovereign  power, 
Through  all  his  long,  protracted  life. 

The  child,  by  hunger  press'd,  you'd  see 
Pass  him,  whene'er  by  want  forced  out 

Too  well  he  knew  a  barren  tree 
Was  not  the  place  to  look  for  fruit. 

He  took  his  toast,  but  always  dry — 
From  various  herbs  his  tea  was  brew'd  : 

He  had  a  cotton-rag  laid  by, 

For  many  years,  to  make  his  shroud. 

Poor,  narrow  soul,  his  race  is  run  : 
What  has  he  for  his  mis'ry  got  ? 

A  piece  of  earth  which  all  would  shun — 
Six  feet  by  three :  the  common  lot. 


(140) 


CHARLEY  THE  NEWSMONGER.37 

Alas  !  poor  Charley's  gone  for  ever, 
And  cross' d  for  aye  that  unknown  river, 
Which  cannot  us  much  longer  sever 

From  Charley. 

Relentless  Death  has  snapp'd  the  thread 
Of  life,  and  laid  amongst  the  dead 
The  fertile,  wonder-working  head 

Of  Charley. 

When  at  the  Keys  on  market-nights, 
What  marvellous  poetic  nights 
Astonish' d  oft  the  list'ning  wights, 

From  Charley. 

For  none  could  so  a  tale  adorn, 
When  seated  by  a  reaming  horn 
Of  spirit-  stirring  barleycorn, 

As  Charley. 

No  one  could  match  him  at  a  joke, 
Nor  so  enjoy,  'midst  clouds  of  smoke, 
The  time-worn  frame  with  ale  to  soak, 

As  Charley. 

A  drunken  rumpus  in  the  street, 

Where  muzzy  chaps  with  watchmen  meet, 

Or  ghost  wrapt  in  its  winding-sheet, 

Pleas'd  Charley 


ON    SEEING    A    MOUSE    IN    JANUARY.  141 

On  such  like  themes  he  ne'er  was  slack 
To  give  the  company  all  his  crack  : 
Nay,  just  a  walking  newsman's  pack, 

Was  Charley. 

At  short-weight  meat  he  oft  would  rail, 
But  still  much  more  at  long-priced  ale  : 
Combined,  they  drew  a  woeful  wail 

From  Charley. 

Come,  then,  ye  friends  of  social  cheer, 
Attend  with  me  his  mournful  bier, 
And  drop  a  last  and  parting  tear, 

O'er  Charley. 

For  we've  lost  him,  who  had  the  art 
T'  amuse  us  o'er  a  friendly  quart  : 
We've  lost,  besides,  an  honest  heart, 

In  Charley. 


ON  SEEING  A  MOUSE  RUN  ACROSS  THE 
ROAD  IN  JANUARY. 

Stay,  little,  tim'rous  beastie,  stay, 
Nor  bicker  wi'  sic  speed  away  ; 
For  I,  like  some  relentless  fae, 

Seek  not  thy  life, 
To  scatter  want,  distress,  and  wae, 

'Mang  weans  and  wife. 


142  ON    SEEING    A    MOUSE    IN    JANUARY. 

At  this  bleak  season  o'  the  year, 
When  snaws  are  deep  and  frost  severe, 
Does  hunger  force  thee  out,  to  speer 

Thy  scanty  fare  ? 
Or  is 't  the  folks  at  hame  to  cheer, 

That's  now  thy  care  ? 

It  may  be  in  some  cosie  biel, 
They're  waitin'  for  their  stinted  meal, 
Which  aiblins  ye'll  be  forced  to  steal 

Frae  barn  or  byre  ; 
And,  i'  the  act,  Death's  tortures  feel, 

Frae  cats  or  wire. 

When  Fahrenheit 's  sixteen  degrees 
Belaw  the  point  where  fluids  freeze, 
Ye  should  na  hae  sic  tow  te  tease, 

Sae  far  frae  hame, 
Where  may  be  sits,  but  ill  at  ease, 

Your  sullen  dame. 

If  sic  be  your  untoward  fate, 
I  wot  ye'll  nae  be  lag  nor  blate, 
For  nature's  laws  just  operate 

On  mice  like  men  : 
Besides  it's  now  becomin'  late — 

The  clock's  struck  ten. 

Come,  then,  ye  daft  and  thriftless  crew, 
And  in  this  mousely  mirror,  view 
Yourselves  display' d  in  colours  true, 

With  a'  your  pride  : 
With  boasted  human  reason,  too, 

Your  steps  to  guide. 


PETITION    OF    AN    APPLE-TREE.  143 

O,  man  !  to  many  ills  a  prey — 
With  tott'ring  steps  and  haffits  grey, 
To  close  in  want  life's  chequer'd  day, 

Is  sad  indeed ; 
For  age  alone  soon  wears  away 

The  brittle  thread. 

Then  learn,  ere  hirplin'  age  appears, 
When  friendship  oft  a  cauldness  wears, 
Which  fills  the  aged  een  wi'  tears, 

The  heart  wi'  grief, 
To  live  so,  that  the  closing  years 

Mayn't  need  relief. 


PETITION  OF  AN  APPLE-TREE, 

THREATENED  WITH  BEING  REMOVED  FROM  ITS 
NATIVE  PLACE. 

Dear  Madam,  plead  and  pray  for  me : 
O  spare,  O  spare  your  apple-tree  ! 
If  friendship  of  a  lengthen'd  date, 

Nor  faithful  services,  avail 
To  save  me  from  my  threaten'd  fate, 

Then  listen  to  my  artless  tale ; 
And  never  my  destruction  see, 
But  spare,  O  spare  your  apple-tree  ! 


144  PETITION    OF    AN    APPLE-TREE. 

Your  children  all  have  round  me  play'd, 
As  happy  as  the  day  was  long ; 

And  oft,  with  longing  eyes,  survey' d 
The  tempting  prize  my  leaves  among. 

Then  why  should  I  an  outcast  be, 

And  they  robb'd  of  their  apple-tree  ? 

Nay,  I  have  borne  them  on  my  arms, 
And  help'd  them  up  to  pluck  my  fruit ; 

For  those  below,  urged  by  my  charms 
To  scramble  after  at  the  root. 

Then  still  let  them  quite  happy  be, 

In~cliinbing  up  their  favourite  tree. 

I've  been  their  shade  from  summer's  heat, 
Their  shelter  till  the  shower  pass'd  by; 

And  oft  afforded  them  a  treat, 

In  what  they  loved — an  apple-pie. 

Then  let  their  great  delight  still  be 

In  pies,  with  fruit  produced  by  me. 

I  have  been  long  to  "  letters"  dear, 
And  learning's  ladder  help'd  to  climb  : 

"  A,  apple-pie,"  saves  many  a  tear, 
And  much  invaluable  time. 

You'll  surely  then  not  part  with  me, 

Your  apple,  and  your  knowledge  tree. 

And  if  you  feel  for  honest  worth, 
That  by  you  stood  when  others  fled, 

You  surely  cannot  drive  me  forth, 
With  fifty  winters  on  my  head. 

O,  then,  let  strict  fidelity, 

And  age,  protect  your  apple-tree. 


ANSWER    TO    THE    FOREGOING.  145 

Consider,  too,  the  tender  ties 

Which  root  me  to  my  native  place ; 

For  I  my  home  as  dearly  prize, 
As  any  of  your  nobler  race. 

Then  spare,  O  spare  your  cruelty, 

Nor  homeless  leave  your  apple-tree. 

And  should  my  fate  be  doubtful  still, 
There  yet  remains  another  plea  : 

O,  spare  me  for  the  sake  of  Will, 
Who  slily  pulls  the  fruit  from  me. 

Then  let  me  live,  that  you  may  see 

Him  fit  to  climb  your  apple-tree. 

August  16,  1829. 


ANSWER  TO  THE  FOREGOING. 

Thy  plea  all-powerful  must  prevail, 
The  spoiler's  hand  shall  now  be  stay'd ; 

For  supplications  seldom  fail, 

When  feeling  comes  to  reason's  aid. 

Then  stay  and  flourish  where  thou  art, 
And  all  the  sweets  of  homo  enjoy  : 

Still  please  the  eye  and  glad  the  heart 
Of  many  an  apple-eating  boy. 


146  THE    TIPPLING    DOMINIE. 

Long  may  thy  foliage,  too,  supply 

An  infant-school38  for  sparrows'  young, 

Where  they  may  learn  to  feed  and  fly, 
As  well  as  chirp  their  mother  tongue. 

And  still  enjoy  the  balmy  kiss 
Of  summer-breezes  in  thy  bloom, 

After  the  hand  that  traces  this 

Has  long  lain  powerless  in  the  tomb. 

And  when  decay  creeps  o'er  thy  frame — 
(Now  shrunk  and  shivering  in  the  blast)- 

In  nakedness,  and  but  the  name 
Of  what  thou  in  thy  glory  wast — 

May  some  kind  hand,  at  nature's  close, 
Drop  o'er  thy  fall,  a  parting  tear ; 

And  so  of  thy  remains  dispose, 

As  best  may  make  thy  worth  appear. 


THE  TIPPLING  DOMINIE. 

Come,  all  ye  lovers  of  good  ale, 
Whose  powers  of  fuddling  never  fail, 
And  join  me  in  the  bitter  wail 

For  Herring's  death : 
His  direst  foe  (how  sad  a  tale  !) 

Has  stopp'd  his  breath. 


THE    TIPPLING    DOMINIE.  147 

He  warr'd  with  water  all  his  days — 
A  blashy  cheat,  in  toper's  phrase  : 
Why  need  it  then  our  wonder  raise, 

That  lr;  is  found, 
E'en  with  a  staff  to  guide  his  ways, 

Poor  fellow,  drown'd  ? 3a 

He  led  a  thoughtless,  half-starv'd  life, 
In  keeping  up  this  watery  strife, 
Deprived  of  all  a  loving  wife 

Can  husband  give : 
Tit-bits  ne'er  touch'd  his  haftless  knife — 

Sore  pinch'd  to  live. 

Report  asserts  (but  she's  a  blab), 
His  wardrobe,  got  up  quite  habnab, 
Was  second-hand  :  his  coat  a  drab, 

With  laps  restored  : 
A  piece  of  carpet,  and  a  crab, 

His  bed  and  board. 

Some  pasteboard  o'er  a  firkin  head, 
In  his  abode,  was  used  instead 
Of  table ;  whereupon  was  spread 

His  scanty  fare : 
His  only  seat  (so  it  was  said), 

A  three-legg'd  chair. 

A  highwayman,  on  plunder  bent, 
Would  find  his  time  but  badly  spent 
O'er  Tommy — whose  habiliment 

Coin  never  kept. 
For  getting  up  the  steam,  all  went 

Before  he  slept. 


148  THE   TIPPLING    DOMINIE. 

• 

Such  was  the  man  destined  to  rule 
For  thirty  years  a  village-school. 
Yet  was  he  by  no  means  a  fool ; 

Though  quite  unfit 
To  either  on  a  chair  or  stool 

As  Dominie  sit. 

"  Dry  measure"  was  his  constant  pest  : 
He  liked  the  "long"  and  "liquid"  best; 
But  yet  more  perfect  than  the  rest 

He'd  "  ale"  and  "  beer. 
To  spy  a  dray10  of  drink,  how  blest 

Did  he  appear ! 

All  weathers  witness' d  Tommy's  drought : 
With  ev'ry  sot  he'd  had  a  bout : 
And  ev'ry  house  had  turn'd  him  out, 

Refusing  more. 
His  rule  of  "  practice"  did  not  suit, 

When  half-seas  o'er. 

Then  all  ye  drunken  Dominies,  view 
What  tippling  brings  its  victims  to ; 
And  let  it  not  be  said  of  you, 

When  'tis  too  late, 
Such  as  poor  Tommy's  steps  pursue, 

Must  share  his  fate. 


(149) 


THE  WASHING-DAY. 

Of  a'  the  plagues  a  poor  man  meets, 

Alang  life's  weary  way, 
There's  nyen  aniang  them  a'  that  beats 

A  rainy  weshin'  day. 
And  let  that  day  come  when  it  may, 

It  a' ways  is  maw  care, 
Before  aw  break  maw  fast,  te  pray 
It  may  be  fine  and  fair. 

For  it's  thump  !  thump  !  souse  !  souse  ! 

Scrub  !  scrub  away ! 
There's  nowt  but  glumpin'  i'  the  hoose, 
Upon  a  weshin'  day. 

For  sud  the  morn,  when  Sall  torns  out, 

Be  rainy,  dark,  or  dull, 
She  cloots  the  bits  o'  bairns  aboot, 

And  packs  them  off  te  skuil. 
In  iv'ry  day  throughout  the  week, 

The  goodman  hez  his  say, 
But  this ;  when  if  he  chance  te  speak, 

It's  "  Get  out  o'  maw  way  !" 
For  it's  thump,  thump,  &c. 

Her  stephez  starn  defiance  in't, 

She  luiks  a'  fire  and  tow  : 
A  single  word,  like  spark  frae  flint, 

Wad  set  her  iv  a  low. 


L50  THE    WASHING-DAY. 

The  varry  claes  upon  her  hack, 

Se  pinn'd  and  tuck'd  up  are, 
As  if  they'd  say,  te  bairns  and  Jack, 

"  Come  near  me  if  ye  dar." 

For  it's  thump,  thump,  &c. 

The  cat's  the  pictur  o'  distress — 

The  kittlens  dar  nut  play  : 
Poor  Pincher  niver  shows  his  fyece 

Upon  this  dreary  day. 
The  burd  sits  mopin'  o'  the  balk, 

Like  somethin'  iv  a  flay : 
The  pig's  as  hungry  as  a  hawk  : 

The  hens  lay  all  away. 

For  it's  thump,  thump,  &c. 

The  hearth  is  a'  wi'  cinders  strewn, 

The  floor  wi'  durty  duds  : 
The  hoose  is  a'  torn'd  upside  doon 

When  Sall  is  i'  the  suds. 
But  when  the  fray's  a'  ower  and  duin, 

And  a's  hung  up  te  dry, 
A  cup,  and  blast  o'  backy,  suin 
Blaws  a'  bad  temper  by. 

Then  the  thump  !  thump  !  souse  !  souse  ! 

Scrub  !  scrub  away ! 
Myek  ne  mair  glumpin'  i'  the  hoose — 
Until  neist  weshin'  day. 


(151) 


WOMAN. 

In  this  sad  scene  of  pain  and  strife, 
Who  forms  the  social  charm  of  life, 
As  mother,  sister,  sweetheart,  wife  ? 

Dear  woman  ! 

Who  guards  us  with  a  watchful  eye, 
When  we  in  crib  or  cradle  lie, 
And  soothes  us  with  a  lullaby  ? 

Kind  woman  ! 

Who  teaches  us  to  lisp  and  talk, 
Our  little  infant  legs  to  walk, 
Our  hands  to  grasp  the  lily's  stalk  ? 

Dear  woman ! 

When  infancy  to  pain's  a  prey, 
From  ills  which  throng  its  early  day, 
Who  wipes  the  pearly  drops  away  ? 

Tis  woman  ! 

Who  forms  the  peaceful  hamlet's  pride, 
Who  makes  our  moments  swiftly  glide, 
And  crowns  at  length  our  joys  as  bride  ? 

Sweet  woman ! 

The  sparkling  eye,  whose  lovely  ray 
Dotli  round  the  manly  bosom  play, 
And  slily  wiles  tlie  heart  away, 

Is  woman's. 


152  WOMAN. 

When  o'er  the  juice  of  barleycorn, 
We  thoughtless  sit  till  early  morn, 
Who  anxious  waits  our  late  return  ? 

Kind  woman  ! 

When  on  a  bed  of  sickness  laid, 
And  all  life's  brightest  prospects  fade, 
Who  renders  us  such  soothing  aid 

As  woman  ? 

Who,  in  a  thousand  various  ways, 
Our  fondest,  warmest  love  repays, 
And  throws  a  sunshine  o'er  our  days  ? 

'Tis  woman ! 

And  when  we  sink,  through  length  of  years, 
Who  as  our  feeling  nurse  appears, 
And  life's  remaining  moments  cheers, 

Like  woman  ? 

And  when  the  wearied  spirit 's  fled, 
AVho  shuts  our  eyes,  and  binds  our  head, 
And  fits  us  for  our  narrow  bed  ? 

Dear  woman ' 

The  mournful  stone  with  letters  fair, 
Which  tells  our  mould' ring  dust  lies  there, 
Is  oft  the  fond  and  lovely  care 

Of  woman. 

Thus,  through  the  everchanging  scene, 
The  cradle  and  the  grave  between, 
We've  joys  more  pure,  and  ills  less  keen, 

From  woman. 


(153) 


DAVID  PROFIT, 

THE  LANDLORD  OF  THE  SHIP,  ON  GATESHEAD 
LOW  FELL. 

O,  David  !  how  I  love  thy  name, 

And  heartily  wish  mine  was  the  same. 

It's  worth  a  Jew's  eye,  both  to  thee 

And  all  thy  future  progeny. 

For  what 's  a  burthen,  oft,  to  others, 

(I  mean  pi-olific  wives  and  mothers,) 

And  proves  a  plague  to  Moors  and  Moffats, 

To  thee's  a  source  of  "little  profits." 

And  gains  though  light,  if  care  you  take, 

A  heavy  purse,  it 's  said,  will  make. 

Thus  must  the  man  be  blest  through  life, 

With  such  a  profitable  wife ; 

Whose  business,  too,  must  always  thrive 

As  long  as  "profit"  is  alive ; 

For  though  his  customers  may  fail, 

And  wipe  off  all  their  scores  in  jail — 

A  thunder-storm  may  spoil  his  ale — 

His  "ship"  from  port  may  never  sail — 

Nay,  let  his  tap  run  as  it  will, 

There'll  be  a  "living  profit"  still, 

As  long  as  David  tends  his  shop 

In  spite  of  want  of  malt  or  hop. 


(154) 
CARTER'S  WELL :— A  NEW  SONG. 

Tone  : — "  Mrs.  Johnson." 

Wor  faithers  o'  "  the  olden  time," 

The  praises  sung  in  sparklin  rhyme, 
Of  rosy  wine,  and  nectar  prime, 

For  gods  and  men  the  dandy ; 
But  they'd  ha'e  tell'd  a  diff'rent  tyel, 

Had  they  knawn  owt  o'  Cairter's  AVell, 
The  Helicon  o'  Gyetshed  Fell, 

Or  sec  a  thing  as  brandy. 

But  they'd  ha'e  tell'd,  &c. 

Ne  other  spring  wiv  it  can  vie : 

It  is  a  tap  that  ne'er  runs  dry — 
A  cellar  where  a  rich  supply 

Suits  iv'ry  rank  and  station. 
And  if  awd  age  myeks  tipple  fine, 

Wors  mun,  aw  think,  be  quite  divine, 
For  it's  a  batch  of  Adam's  wine, 

We  gat  at  the  Creation. 

And  if  awd  age,  &c. 

And  iver  since,  we've  swigg'd  away  : 

Frae  flowin'  cans,  day  efter  day, 
We've  cheer'd  and  soak'd  wor  drouihy  clay, 

Wi'  Cairter's  iverlastin'. 
But  mony  think  a  drop  or  two, 

Of  brandy,  rum,  or  mountain-dew, 
Wad  help  a  deal  te  get  us  through, 

When  core's  the  mind  ow'rcastin'. 
And  if  awd  age,  &c. 


THE  INDUSTRIOUS  AND  PEACEABLE  PAIR.  155 

Let  sic  te  Hetiierington's  repair, 

And  sit  an'  sip  their  mixtur'  there  ; 
And  if  for  toddy  they  declare 

"  At  eight  the  kettle's  boilin'." 
But  gi'e  me  Cairter's  caller  spring, 

For  mixtur'  just  the  varry  thing  : 
We  then  Care  ower  the  shoother  fling, 

And  gi'e  wor  wigs  an  oilin'. 
And  if  awd  age,  &c. 

And  then,  for  news,  there's  nowt  can  beat 

The  Well  where  all  the  lasses  meet, 
An'  gi'e  their  tongues  a  pleasant  treat, 

On  village-speculations : — 
The  coortin'  that's  te  "  callin'  "  led — 

The  couples  that  are  suin  te  wed — 
When  the  last  bride  will  get  her  bed — 

And  sec-like  gleg  occasions. 
And  if  awd  age,  &c. 


THE  INDUSTRIOUS  AND  PEACEABLE  PAIR.41 

On  the  edge  of  the  Fell,  in  a  snug  little  cot, 
Lived  an  honest  and  peaceable  pair : 

To  make  us  our  coffins  was  Thomas's  lot, 
While  Bella  attended  our  fair. 


156  THE  INDUSTRIOUS  AND  PEACEABLE  PAIR. 

They  each  at  the  limit  of  life  took  their  place, 

Their  aid  and  advice  to  dispense ; 
For  she  hail'd  us  here  with  a  smile  on  her  face, 

And  he  amidst  tears  took  us  hence. 

Of  practice  they  both  had  a  competent  share, 
For  the  village  is  pop'lous  and  large  ; 

And  none  ever  did  with  more  credit  and  care 
Their  several  duties  discharge. 

In  a  mantle  of  silk,  in  the  morning  of  life, 
To  attend  us  to  church  she  was  proud  ; 

Whilst  he  at  the  close  of  our  sorrows  and  strife, 
Attended  us  there  in  our  shroud. 

Death  often  replenished  an  exhausted  purse  ; 

And,  when  the  Destroyer  was  still,* 
A  birth  would  have  answer'd  as  well  as  this  curse, 

And  brought  equal  grist  to  their  mill. 

But  now  in  his  grave  poor  Tommy  lies  cold, 
His  cares  and  his  troubles  all  o'er ; 

For  Death,  his  best  friend  and  employer  of  old, 
Has  left  us  his  loss  to  deplore. 

Thus  goodness  or  virtue  as  nothing  appears, 

To  appease  this  implacable  foe  ; 
Nor  even  a  friendship  cemented  by  years, 

Can  avert  his  most  unerring  blow. 

His  protracted  life  was  with  usefulness  crown' d — 
His  example  may  others  improve  ; 

And  may  he  at  last  with  the  blessed  be  found, 
In  the  heavenly  mansions  above. 


THE    VILLAGE-HOWDY.  157 

And  may  his  old  mate,  when  the  little  remains 

Of  her  mortal  existence  are  o'er, 
After  forty  years  sharing  his  pleasures  and  pains, 

Join  him,  never  to  part  any  more. 


THE  VILLAGE-HOWDY. 

Poor  Bella,  the  last  of  the  "  industrious  pair," 

Whose  story  already  appears, 
Has  finish'd  a  life  of  industry  and  care, 

Spun  out  over  ninety-one  years. 

She  welcomed  us  here  in  the  dawn  of  our  day, 

Prepared  us  for  cradle  display  : 
Bestow'd  on  each  feature  unqualified  praise, 

But  the  nose  was  the  father's,  she'd  say. 

Her  custom  was  always  to  cut  up  the  cheese, 
To  hand  round  the  cake  and  the  gin  ; 

Remarking  afresh,  on  the  "  stranger,"  to  these, 
Who  afterwards  kindly  dropped  in. 

The  fingers,  the  nails,  the  eyes,  and  the  hair, 

Undergo  the  minutest  inspection  ; 
And  Nature,  if  this  were  the  Jirst,  all  declare, 

Has  stamp' d  it  a  piece  of  perfection. 


158  TITE    HAPPY    HOME. 

She  deck'd  ns  for  church  on  the  christening  day, 
Cut  the  bread-and-cheese  meant  to  be  stow'd 

In  the  first  lucky  pocket  she  met  on  her  way 
To  the  church,  from  their  humble  abode, 

But  the  line  of  her  usefulness  did  not  end  here — 

Other  duties  she  had  to  fulfil  : 
Her  prescriptions  were  good,  though  in  Latin  not  penn'd, 

And  she  managed  the  lancet  with  skill. 

To  those  "  in  the  straw"  frequent  visits  she  paid — 

To  those  on  her  sick-list  the  same : 
Popp'd  in  upon  such  as  would  soon  want  her  aid, 

Not  forgetting  the  last-married  dame. 

She  was  none  of  the  thriftless,  that  trifle  away, 

What  much  future  ill  may  assuage, 
But  saved  what  she  could  during  life's  summer-day, 

For  the  wants  of  the  winter  of  age. 


~&v 


Thus  briefly  I've  sketch'd  the  outline  of  her  life, 
Unsullied  by  meanness  or  pride — 

An  affectionate  mother,  an  excellent  wife, 
And  a  howdy  famed  both  far  and  wide. 


(159) 


THE  HAPPY  HOME. 

Ambition,  take  thy  dazzling  crown, 
And  pursy  Pride  thy  civic  gown, 
I  only  ask  this  humble  boon, 

A  happy  home. 

Rank,  wealth,  or  power,  I  value  not : 
I  much  prefer  a  lowly  lot, 
A  competence,  a  country  cot, 

And  happy  home. 

Let  me  meet  happy  faces  there, 
A  fav'rite  book  and  easy  chair, 
In  that  retreat  from  toil  and  care, 
A  happy  home. 

The  giddy  crew,  who  spend  their  days 
And  nights  in  Dissipation's  maze, 
Can  never  know  my  theme  of  praise, 
A  happy  home. 

What  cheers  the  traveller  on  his  way, 
What  lightens  labour's  weary  day, 
And  stays  the  plagues  that  turn  us  grey  ? 
A  happy  home. 

A  place  of  refuge — port  of  peace — 
Where  all  the  world's  vexations  cease, 
And  comforts  with  our  years  increase, 
Is  happy  home. 


160  THE    HAPPY    HOME. 

It  'a  past  imagination's  power, 
To  paint  each  charming  ev'ning  hour, 
Which  those  enjoy,  whose  lives  secure 
A  happy  home. 

And  when  life  fails,  as  fail  it  must, 
What  smoothes,  when  its  last  spark  is  just 
Extinct,  our  passage  to  the  dust  ? 
A  happy  home. 


(101) 


NOTES. 

1  Some  thirty  years  ago,  when  the  Westgate  and  Ballast  Hill  Hop- 
pings  were  in  all  their  glory,  and  more  numerously  attended  than 
they  are  now,  several  of  our  fagging  Quaysiders  did  not  think  it 
beneath  them  to  snatch  a  few  hours'  relaxation  from  the  toil  of  busi- 
ness, at  these  places  of  "  fun  and  frolic."  But  at  present  the  sports 
at  these  "  merry-makings"  want  that  spirit  which  distinguished  them 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ago. 

2  Mr.  Plcmmer's  exertions,  as  Chairman  of  the  Company,  are 
worthy  of  all  praise — no  consideration  of  lime  or  convenience  having 
been  allowed  for  one  moment  to  interfere  with  the  discharge  of  his 
very  troublesome  and  arduous  duty.  The  memory  of  the  late  Mr. 
Losh,  at  the  same  time,  demands  a  passing  tribute  at  our  hands. 
To  the  talent,  perseverance,  and  popularity  of  Mr.  Losh,  Mr.  Plom- 
mer's  predecessor  as  Chairman,  the  triumph  of  the  undertaking  over 
its  early  and  most  serious  difficulties  is  to  be  chiefly  attributed. 

3  II  often  required  no  small  degree  of  tact  and  forbearance  to  parry 
the  ugly  questions  asked,  and  the  explanations  required,  by  some  of 
the  shareholders,  of  the  Chairman  and  other  Directors,  at  the  meetings 
of  the  Company,  as  they  were  not  always  put  in  the  simplest  forms, 
nor  in  the  mildest  manner. 

4  The  cocked  hats  and  gowns  that  distinguished  Aldermen  from 
other  men,  previous  to  the  Municipal  Reform  in  September,  1835, 
were  now  laid  aside,  and  their  "  worships"  then  appeared  in  all  the 
fantastical  fashions  of  the  day,  as  regarded  both  cut  and  cloth. 

6  Lard. 

•  The  Kedheugh. 


162  NOTES. 

7  The  Victoria  train. 

8  Elizabeth  Douglas.  Honest  Lizzy  lived  near  Brampton, 
and  carried  on  the  craft  of  fortune-telling — recovering  things  stolen 
or  strayed — and  restoring  cattle  that  laboured  under  diseases  inflicted 
by  witchcraft.  She  was  the  oracle  of  the  vicinity  for  many  miles 
round,  and  sent  many  a  forlorn  maiden  away  with  a  light  heart;  for, 
after  bamboozling  and  mystifying  the  inquirer  with  a  variety  of  ques- 
tions,  so  as  almost  to  make  her  say  what  she  wanted  to  be  told,  she 
delighted  her  with  the  initials  of  the  name  of  the  swain  of  her  choice — 
not  forgetting,  however,  whilst  shuffling  the  cards,  to  shuffle  the 
money  from  the  girl's  pocket  into  her  own.  She  was  once  applied  to 
for  assistance  in  the  case  of  some  cattle  that  were  "  dwining  away" 
under  the  power  of  witchcraft.  She  was  rather  puzzled  how  to  act 
in  this  matter;  but,  after  applying  her  fertile  mind  to  it  for  some 
time,  she  came  to  the  sage  conclusion  that  slitting  their  tails,  and 
putting  pieces  of  rown-tree  into  the  opening,  would  free  them  from 
the  power  that  was  destroying  them.  This,  of  course,  was  tried  ;  but 
the  owners  of  the  cattle  declared  that  it  had  no  effect  upon  the  disease, 
and  that  they  might  as  well  have  "laid  salt  on  their  tails."  Lizzy, 
no  doubt,  often  missed  her  mark  on  these  occasions ;  but  she  some- 
times made  a  lucky  hit,  which  kept  her  fame  afloat  with  the  dupes 
that  consulted  her.  She  has  been  dead  upwards  of  twenty  years ;  but 
her  daughter,  it  is  said,  has  succeeded  to  the  business,  and  inherits 
the  rare  qualities  of  her  far-famed  parent. 

9  Team  Gut. 

10  Care,  or  annoyance. 

11  If  long  practice  lead  to  proficiency  in  any  business,  the  fitters  on 
Newcastle  Quay  may  be  fairly  entitled  to  claim  the  first  rank  amongst 
those  who  profess  the  "  black  art"  of  shipping  coals. 

13  ''January  9th,  1816,  died,  at  his  house,  near  the  Windmill-hills, 
Gateshead,  Mr.  Thomas  Thompson,  merchant,  in  the  43d  year  of 


NOTE3.  163 

his  age.  His  death  was  caused  by  cold  and  fatigue  in  his  exertions 
to  save  his  property  (timber)  from  the  ravages  of  the  destructive  flood 
in  the  preceding  month.  From  an  humble  origin,  he  raised  himself, 
by  his  talents  and  merit,  to  a  respectable- rank  in  society.  His  loss 
was  severely  felt  in  the  extensive  circle  of  his  friends,  as  well  as  in 
the  public  festivals  of  the  town,  to  the  mirth  of  which  his  exquisitely 
humorous  songs  in  the  »we  Newcastle  dialect,  contributed  a  large 
portion.  Besides  being  the  author  of  "  Canny  Newcastle,"  "  Jemmy 
Johnson's  Whurry,"  "New  Keel  Row,"  and  other  descriptive  local 
songs,  Mr.  Thompson  wrote  several  pieces  of  considerable  merit." — 
Sykoses  Local  Records,  vol.  ii.,  p,  98. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  neither  the  author  nor  his  friends 
ever  published  his  various  pieces  in  a  collected  form.  His  songs 
were  excellent  specimens  of  the  Newcastle  dialect,  happily  expressed, 
and  pregnant  with  wit  and  humour. 

13  The  sailors  riding  for  their  "  turns,"  was  perhaps  one  of  the 
most  laughable  scenes  that  can  well  be  imagined.  The  poor  hacks 
had  a  sorry  time  of  it,  when  they  bad  such  customers  on  their  backs; 
and  when  a  large  fleet  arrived,  it  was  not  unusual  to  see  these  mise- 
rable animals  appear  on  the  quay  two  or  three  times  from  Shields 
during  the  day.  Both  the  rider  and  his  steed  were  often  real  pictures 
of  distress;  so  much  so,  that  when  some  one  was  astonishing  Bold 
Akchy  with  an  account  of  the  transmigration  of  souls  after  death,  he 
replied,  "  That's  very  queer;  but  I  don't  care  what  shape  I  appear  in 
next,  provided  it  is  not  that  of  a  Shields  hack." 

u  In  the  absence  of  ships  to  give  better  employment  to  the  fitters 
and  their  clerks,  it  is  sometimes  surprising  to  see  the  listless  apathy, 
hanging  over  all,  suddenly  changed  into  the  most  intense  anxiety  to 
ascertain  the.  cause  of  some  unusual  excitement.  The  windows  are 
thrown  up,  and  the  indoor  plodders  are  all  agog,  to  know  the  reason 
of  all  this  running  to  and  fro.  The  idlers  are  seen  running  from  all 
parts  of  the  quay  to  the  scene  of  action,  which  is  generally  a  few 
balks  of  timber  ;  and  the  creature  that  has  produced  all  this  hubbub, 


164  NOTES. 

a  poor  harmless  rat,  which  often  suffers  in  the  fray ;  for  nothing  short 
of  heing  in  at  the  death  gives  its  pursuers  satisfaction. 

15  "  The  royal  assent  was  given  on  the  18th  inst.  to  the  Bill  /or  re- 
gulating the  loading  of  ships  with  coals  in  the  port  of  Newcastle- 
upon  Tyne.  It  takes  place  on  the  first  day  of  next  month." — Tyne 
Mercury,  May  29,  1810. 

16  James  Bishop  and  John  Liddell  were  the  two  clerks  in  tho 
night  office  at  this  period. 

17  The  following  paragraph  appeared  in  the  Tyne  Mercury,  June 
12,  1810: — "  The  night  office  lately  established  here,  for  taking  on 
ships  to  load  coals,  presented  a  very  singular  sceue  of  confusion  on 
Sunday  night.  With  a  tender  and  pious  regard  for  the  souls  of  those 
sacrilegious  men  called  Coal  Fitters,  who  were  in  the  habit  of 
walking  the  quay  all  the  Lord's  Day,  neglecting  all  religious  duties, 
intent,  like  the  barbers  of  former  times,  on  nothing  but  the  gain  of 
filthv  lucre,  in  pursuit  of  which  they  were  often  tempted  by  the  Devil 
to  break  all  the  commandments  in  the  decalogue,  the  framers  of  the 
late  Coal  Bill  enacted,  that  in  future  no  business  should  be  done  until 
12  o'clock  on  Sunday  night,  and  that  then  ships  should  be  taken  on 
by  two  men  appointed  by  the  Commissioners  of  the  Act  to  attend 
this  office.  It  is  now  therefore  decreed,  as  of  old,  that  '  in  six  days' 
the  fitters  '  shall  do  all  that  they  have  to  do,  but  on  the  seventh  day 
shall  rest  from  their  labours.'  In  conformity  with  these  wholesome 
regulations,  this  office  was  opened  on  Sunday  night  at  12  o'clock. 
Through  the  day,  an  immense  number  of  vessels  came  into  Shields, 
which  made  the  number  of  applicants  at  the  office  in  the  course  of 
the  night  very  numerous.  About  11  o'clock,  the  crowd  of  captains 
became  very  great;  which  soon  occasioned,  when  the  office  opened, 
much  wrangling  about  the  turns;  and  as  they  are  in  general  men 
who  have  not  the  '  fear  of  God  before  their  eyes,'  they  began  abusing 
the  attendants;  and  though  one  of  them  was  actually  a  Bishop,  they 
absolutely,  in  defiance  of  all  order  and  decency,  uttered  the  most 
horrid  imprecations  in  his  sacred  presence ;  and  in  the  end,  to  such 


NOTES.  165 

a  height  did  their  impious  rage  proceed,  that  they  broke  his  mitre 
(alias  his  desk)  over  his  head ;  and,  from  all  appearance,  the  Pope 
himself,  had  he  been  present,  would  have  been  treated  with  as  little 
Ceremony.  This  Reverend  Prelate,  seeing  his  authority  thus  scoaned 
and  set  at  nought,  though  '  slow  to  anger,'  could  not  forbear  making 
use  of  the  power  lodged  in  his  hand  for  the  support  of  his  authority 
against  sueh  blasphemous  intruders.  He  therefore  excommunicated 
and  anathematized  the  whole  crew  of  offenders;  and  though  not  in 
such  detail  (for  he  had  not  time)  as  the  form  set  forth  in  Tristram 
Shandy,  it  was  fully  as  comprehensive,  and  must  have  had  an  equal 
effect,  being  delivered  in  the  most  impressive  style.  We  have  not 
heard  that  any  of  the  agents  of  the  Vice  Society  have  taken  any  steps 
in  this  business  ;  but  certainly  neither  they  nor  the  Reverend  Bench 
will  suffer  such  a  daring  outrage  upon  religion  and  social  order  to 
pass  unnoticed." 

18  This  took  place  on  the  7th  of  July,  1817,  as  appears  by  the  fol- 
lowing entry  in  the  night-office  accounts  at  the  time: — "July  7, 
1817. — To  cart-hire  from  Newcastle  to  Shields,  shifting  the  night- 
office,  8s.  Gd." 

18  Mr.  Joseph  Price,  of  Gateshead,  received  the  compliment 
of  a  dinner,  and  a  handsome  silver  tankard,  from  a  party  of  manu- 
facturers, wharfingers,  &c,  in  1818,  as  a  mark  of  their  approbation 
of  his  services  "  in  first  applying  steam-boats  to  the  towing  of  vessels." 

20  Mr.  Reid's  omnibuses  commenced  running  on  the  12th  of 
November,  1832. 

21  The  Newcastle  and  Shields  Railway  was  opened  on  the  J  8th  of 
June,  1839. 

22  The  Penny  Postage  came  into  operation  on  the  10th  of  January, 
1840. 

23  James  Faddy  was  brought  up  at  the  keels  from  a  boy,  and  had 


1GG  NOTES. 

always  been  very  shrewd  and  observing ;  so  that,  when  he  grew  up, 
he  was  well  "  fitted"  out  with  practical  knowledge  for  taking  a  place 
in  a  fitter's  office,  where  he  spent  the  whole  of  his  days.  He  was  the 
oracle  of  the  Quayside.  There  was  no  man  better  acquainted  with 
the  usages  of  the  river  than  he  was.  If  lying  tides,  or  the  dues  to 
some  of  the  reaches,  were  the  subjects  of  dispute,  Faddy  was  the  man 
appealed  to.  The  following  notice  of  his  death  appeared  in  the 
Gateshead  Observer  of  March  31st,  1838: — "  Died,  in  Houard  street, 
New-road,  Newcastle,  on  the  26th  inst.,  in  the  6Cth  year  of  his  age, 
Mr.  James  Faddy,  agent  to  the  owners  of  Seghill  colliery.  His 
extensive  knowledge  in  all  the  freemasonry  of  the  fitting  trade, 
acquired  during  a  practice  of  fifty  years,  rendered  his  services  of 
great  value  in  a  colliery  office." 

24  Joyce,  the  inventor  of  the  Patent  Stove. 

15  In  this  kill-coal  scheme,  charcoal  and  bone  act  a  conspicuous 
part.  Joyce  says,  in  the  specification  of  his  patent,  dated  the  16th 
of  December,  1838,  "  My  improved  fuel  is  a  peculiar  preparation  of 
charcoal,  chemically  treated  for  the  purpose  of  purifying  it." 

26  At  the  time  those  emblems  of  civic  dignity,  Aldermen's  gowns, 
went  out  of  fashion,  a  new  species  of  attire,  to  wit,  "  Pea  Jackets," 
came  up.  The  lines  on  the  pea-jacket  embody  the  feelings  of  an 
honest  keelinan,  expressed  to  his  wife  on  witnessing  the  metamor- 
phosis which  the  "  male  creatures"  had  undergone. 

27  George  Straker,  Esq. 

23  "  A  Glance  at  Polly  Technic,"  being  a  collection  of  the  most 
splendid  productions  of  Nature  and  Art  ever  exhibited  in  Newcastie. 
This  interesting  display  was  opened  to  the  public,  6th  April,  1 S40, 
under  the  name  of  the  "  Polytechnic  Exhibition,"  for  the  benefit  of 
the  North  of  England  Society  for  the  Promotion  of  the  Fine  Arts, 
and  the  Mechanics'  Institutes  of  Newcastle  and  Gateshead,  and  gave 
general  satisfaction. 


NOTES.  16? 

59  The  eighth  meeting  of  the  British  Association  for  the  Advance- 
ment  of  Science,  was  held  in  Newcastle  in  the  year  1838.  It  com- 
menced on  Monday,  the  20th  of  August,  and  closed  on  Saturday, 
the  25th. 

30  The  female  guardian  of  the  Hutch. 

31  See  Gardner's  "  England's  Grievance,"  page  92,  for  a  description 
of  the  notable  scheme  of  finding  out,  by  a  cut  purse,  what  fine  a  cap- 
tain should  pay,  who  had  been  convicted  of  throwing  ballast  into  the 
river,  by  the  false  swearing  of  others. 

32  Once  upon  a  time,  this  Argus  met  an  Alderman  bringing  away 
an  inkstand  from  the  Hutch,  to  write  something  at  the  table  on 
'Change,  and  immediately  opposed  his  progress  so  effectually  as  to 
force  him  to  give  up  the  contest  in  despair. 

33  The  Chamber  Clerk. 

34  The  Chamberlains. 

35  Blind  Willy. 

36  The  critical  reader  may  carp  at  the  conversion  of  "  manes"  into 
a  word  of  one  syllable;  but  although  such  a  liberty,  in  ordinary 
cases,  might  be  too  great  a  stretch  of  the  rhymer's  license,  surely,  in 
an  elegy  on  a  canine  companion,  he  may  be  permitted  to  use  "  dog 
Latin." 

1  Charles  Ritchie  was  a  stone-mason,  and  lived  on  Gateshead 
Fell  nearly  all  his  life.  He  was  a  kind-hearted  man,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  amusing  his  neighbours  o'er  a  pot  of  beer,  at  the  tail  of  the 
week,  with  the  news  he  had  gathered  since  the  last  time  they  met — 
more  especially  with  what  he  had  picked  up  in  the  town,  at  the  Bee 
Hive  on  the  Sandhill,  or  the  Three  Bulls'  Heads  in  the  Castle- 
garth,  two  houses  famed  for  good  beer,  then  called  "  Fine  Fi'penny." 


1G8  NOTES. 

39  This  old  tree  is  the  annual  resort  of  the  young  sparrows  in  the 
neighbourhood,  as  soon  as  they  are  able  to  leave  their  nests;  and 
here  they  seem  to  obtain  that  instruction  and  support  from  their 
parents,  which  is  necessary  for  their  future  welfare. 

39  He  was  found  drowned  a  little  above  Newcastle  bridge,  with  his 
stick  in  his  hand. 


10 


To  get  a  glass  with  the  drayman. 


41  Bella  Laing  and  Tommy — for  I  am  pretty  sure  that  Bella, 
when  they  were  mentioned  together,  always  had  the  precedence — 
lived  the  greatest  part  of  their  long  lives  on  Gateshead  Low  Fell. 
Bella  was  the  village  "  howdy ;"  and  her  practice  was  not  only  very 
general  amongst  its  population,  but  often  extended  far  beyond  its 
confines.  Her  usefulness,  however,  did  not  end  here;  for  besides 
being,  as  it  were,  the  Alpha  of  life,  she  often  rendered  very  essential 
service  to  her  fair  friends,  in  particular  delicate  situations,  through 
the  middle  and  interesting  stages  of  their  existence.  Tommy  was  a 
joiner  by  trade — made  coffins  and  kept  a  hearse — of  course,  was  the 
Omega  of  life,  whose  care  was  to  see  us  carried  to  our  long  homes  in 
a  coffin  of  his  own  making.  The  two  calliugs  wrought  well  together; 
for  if  a  birth  turned  out  a  death,  the  order  for  the  coffin  came  of 
course  to  Tommy  ;  and  as  Bella  was  frequently  asked  to  funerals, 
it  afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  extending  her  business  amongst  the 
ladies.  They  thus  carried  on  a  thriving  trade  for  many  years,  of 
which  life  and  death  were  the  staple  articles,  and  ultimately  acquired, 
through  industry  and  frugality,  considerable  property  in  houses. 
The  square  which  goes  by  the  name  of  Laing's-corner,  was  built  by 
them,  and  left  to  their  children,  as  well  as  a  large  garth  in  which  the 
Public  Rooms  and  other  buildings  have  been  lately  erected. 


FINI«. 


W.   DOUGLAS,  OBSERVER  OFFICE,   GATESHEAD. 


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