And Sall, who when saug in a corner, a sixpence they say won't refuse,
She curs'd when her father was drown'd, because he had on his new shoes.
Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.
And there'll be Sam the quack doctor, of skill and profession he'll crack;
And Jack who would fain be a soldier, but for a great hump on his back;
And Tom in the streets for his living, who grinds razors, scissars, and knives;
And two or three merry old women, that calls, "Mugs and dublers, wives."
Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.
But neighbours, I'd almost forgot, for to tell ye exactly at
The dinner will be on the table, and music will play 'till its
When you'll be all heartily welcome, of this merry feast for to share,
But if you won't come at this bidding, why then you may stay where you are.
Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.
A SONG, written and sung by H. F. H. at the opening of Jarrow Colliery, September 26th, 1803.
OLD Jarrow, long fam'd for monastical lore,
Where Bede, rusty manuscripts search'd o'er and o'er ;
Now see us assembl'd, upon her green swa'd,
With faces all smiling, and spirits full glad.
No long chaunt of Friars now steals thro' her glooms,
No lazy cowl'd monk now her viands consumes;
But chearful the strain which our voices upraise,
And active the man, who partakes of our praise.
Yet still in researches her sons shew their might,
Still labour in darkness to bring good to light:
Thro' legends and fables the friars explor❜d,
Thro' strata of rubbish the miners have bor'd.
The labours of both with success have been crown'd,
And the miner to Bede is in gratitude bound;
For while ignorance reign'd from the line to the pole,
In convents the monks preserv'd sciences-Coal.
Fal lal de ral la.
By science and spirit what great deeds are done,
By the union of these, this rich Coal Pit is won:
And safe from their labours, the lads of the mine,
Now foot it away with the girls of the Tyne.
On ship-board soon plac'd, and impel'd by the gale,
For Augusta's proud towers the produce will sail;
Employment it gives to th' indust❜rous and brave,
And its trade's the best nurse for the sons of the wave.
Fal lal de ral la.
Hail, commerce! thou parent of Albion's weal,
Let Frenchmen still brandish their threatening steel,
To drag thee from England, her sons will not yield,
They'll carry thee on, yet prepare for the field.
Fal lal de ral la.
These brave lads around us, their tools will lay down,
And fight for their country, their king, and his crown!
But the Frenchmen destroy'd, or drove back to the main,
They'll take up the Pick-axe and shovel again.
In union thus ever be commerce and arms,
When a tyrant's ambition creates it alarms;
And secure in their courage, let Britons still sing,
Britannia triumphant, and God save the king!
Your glasses now fill to the lord of the mine,
And drink him long life in a goblet of wine:
On this joyous day let no bosom be sad,
But bumper it round to "the bonny pit lad."
THE sailors are all at the bar,
They cannot get up to Newcastle;
The sailors are all at the bar,
They cannot get up to Newcastle.
Up with smoky Shields,
And hey for bonny Newcastle;
Up with smoky Shields,
And hey for bonny Newcastle.
WE'LL all away to the Lowlights,
And there we'll see the sailors come in ;
We'll all away to the Lowlights,
And there we'll see the sailors come in.
There clap your hands and give a shout,
And you'll see the sailors go out;
Clap your hands and dance and sing,
And you'll see your laddie come in.
SIX centuries since, some say, a son of South Seaton*,
Was mulct for a monk he to mummy had beaten ;
The prior there pilfer'd the prow of a pig,
And Delaval drub'd well the pillaging prig!
In commemoration of that great event,
Each anniversary in eclat is spent:
Though landlords liege-legates are bound to obey,
That country carousal's kept up to this day.
A sum by subscription was quickly collected,
As none to contribute their quota objected;
Half-guineas the highest, the lowest a shilling;
And seamen and landmen were equally willing:
Hence hand-bills were pasted up in public places,
To state both the time and the term of these races;
Explaining the prizes, and pastoral plays,
Prolonging these pastimes the space of three days.
The stewards instructed the cash to collect,
Kept debtor and creditor scrolls quite correct;
To purchase such prizes as were preconcerted,
The coin was with consummate caution converted;
To furnish out fun for friends, strangers, and neighbours,
These gents to gymnastics gave gratis their labours;
Lest fair play, by precepts, might not be promoted,
From the racing calendar cases they quoted.
Quaff-cups for quadrupeds accustom❜d to courses,
And handsome cart-harness for husbandry horses;
With saddles and bridles for hunters and hacks,
And plate spurs for ponies that pay no Pitt-tax :
South Seaton, so called at the time; but afterwards Monk Seaton, where Delaval, Esq. so completely castigated a covetous capuchin as to cause his death; for so doing, however, great part of his posses sions were forfeited.-See the History of Tynemouth.
Spring whips made for mules, and good armour for asses,
And harlequin habits for lads and for lasses;
Gloves, hats, hose, and handkerchiefs, shirts, shifts, and shoes,
To run, gape, or grin for, as candidates choose.
With multitudes mingled the turf was attended, Like barley and beans, there the belles and beaux blended; From town and the country such numbers assembled, The race-ground a Newcastle meeting resembled ; Which cohorts all creeds and conditions comprised, And dresses, distinctions, and deserts disguised; By vintners made vivid, their views became various, Amusements were many, and mirth multifarious.
The racers (at Watson's) were regularly enter'd,
And money at booking was formally ventur'd;
A Newmarket rider, rear'd in racing stables,
Conversant in quirks, and acquainted with cabals;
Whose powers of profession were priz'd upon paction,
And principles privately put up to auction:
Some Monkseaton farmers on fraud plac'd affiance,
But saw in the sequel their rotten reliance.
By bribing that brigand, this son of deception
Receiv'd ready rhino, yet made his election;
This presto, his pupils to peasants prefer'd;
In bilking his brethren, the eft would have err'd !
To gull'd speculators, a vulcan as vile,
Stak'd too with turf-students in tangible style,
Till duped delinquents were doom'd through the day,
Their debts of dishonour on peril to pay.
Corruption creeps into both commerce and courts,
Then who can repel it from rural resorts?
As all public places are pester'd with prowlers,
The streets are stagnated with stigmatiz'd strollers;
And some sanguine swindlers, though subtile and snug,
Plunge into the pit they for others had dug ;
The same at Monkseaton, the mass must admit,
(With self-satisfaction) « The biters were bit"!!!
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