“Croney, its now near thirty year,
Since here I saw thy face;
And since that time, my honest bird,
What change here’s taken place.
Gotham, in troth, is alter’d quite;
Here’s nought as ’twas before:
People nor town should I have known,
Had I not heard the BURR.”
Our steeple’s gone,[80] that lov’d abode,
Where once we loudly croak’d
Advice to Gotham’s aldermen;
And with the freemen jok’d.
Now Gotham, London fashions apes,
They’ve every thing to tempt ye;
Like the city—shops with showy fronts,
And insides poor and empty.
And then so alter’d is the town,
As well as Gotham’s people;
That not a building here’s the same,
Except Saint Nich’las steeple.
Fam’d steeple! Gotham’s greatest boast,
Long may you here remain,
Whilst other churches are pull’d down,
And built ’gain and again.
The streets are now so num’rous grown,[81]
E’en Gothamites don’t know them;
So signs they’ve painted ’gainst the walls,
In every nook to shew them.[82]
And such the rage, for naming streets,
That gaps made in th’ Old Wall;
They Heron Street and Forster Street,
Unwittingly do call.
Th’ old streets were next, not wide enough,
So th’ pants they took away,[83]
To place them in some corner dark,
Where th’ girls could wanton play.
Yet for themselves, they have such fears,
Their road, they ne’er can see;
So they want lamps, from th’ Barras Bridge,
E’en to Saint Peter’s Quay.[84]
The Crosses too, they’ve taken down,[85]
Tho’ built the other day;
They too, I fancy, did impede,
The great folks in their way.
And next their nostrils delicate,
Can’t bear the smell of meat;
And straight the Butcher’s shops and stalls,[86]
Fly quickly from the street.
Their foolish pride there’s nought can stop,
Improvement’s all the go;
Unseemly’s every thing that’s old,
So all that’s old’s laid low.
Each relique of their sires is gone,
Or got a modern face on:
The poor old Castle,[87]—Gotham’s pride,
A modern cap they place on.
The Bridge is widen’d,[88] the Quay enlarg’d,[89]
The old Moothall laid low;[90]
And other Court’s,[91] like all their works,
They’ve built here all for show.
Show, show’s the word in Gotham now,
And ev’ry thing that’s new;
From th’ Infirmary,[92] to th’ Children’s School,[93]
A palace is to view.
The Westgate boasts its palace now,[94]
On the Moor another’s seen;[95]
And (to please the nabobs of the east)
A Bridge has Pandon Dean:[96]
To see their Church, see they’ve pull’d down,
Many a good and bad house;[97]
There’s one thing more, howe’er, they want,
And that’s a spacious Mad House!
For, when these alterations end,
To tell I’ve not the pow’r;
E’en now their quarreling about,
Th’ improvement of the moor[98]
Yet like the Roman, who for want
Of worlds—from war refrain’d;
Gotham’s changes and improvements,
Will with th’ world’s limits end.

[80] Exchange steeple taken down, and the Exchange new fronted, 1794.

[81] Dean Street and Mosley Street formed 1789, Blackett Street, Albion Street and Albion Place, Collingwood Street, 1809-10, Forth Street, Orchard Street, Castle Street, &c. &c. 1811-12.

[82] Names of the streets first painted against the walls of each end of the Streets, 1786.

[83] The pants in Pilgrim Street removed, 1(Transcriber’s Note: the rest of the digits of the year are missing from the original printing.).

[84] A new act proposed for lighting the suburbs, 1811-12.

[85] Scale de Cross and White Cross taken down, 1807.

[86] Butcher Market removed, 1807.

[87] New battlements placed on the Castle, 1812.

[88] Bridge widened.

[89] The Quay enlarged opposite to the Exchange, 1811.

[90] The Moot Hall pulled down, 1809.

[91] New County Courts erected, 1811-12.

[92] Infirmary enlarged, 1806.

[93] Jubilee School built, 1810-11.

[94] Carpenter’s Meeting House built at the Westgate, 1811-12.

[95] Grand Stand built, 1800.

[96] Bridge built over Pandon Dean, 1811-12.

[97] Buildings in front of St Nicholas church pulled down, 1810-11.

[98] The improvement of the Moor proposed, 1811-12.

Some Years ago, while the band of musicians belonging to the Newcastle Armed Association were practising in one of the apartments of the Town’s Court, some person stole the Sheriff’s gown, which gave rise to the following verses:—

’Tis said that in the good old times
One Orpheus liv’d, a man of rhymes,
And famous on the lyre:
Whene’er the poet sung, the trees
Rush’d from the mountains to the seas,
Or jumpt into the fire.
But mark what wonders fill our land,
When late th’ Association-band
In this illustrious town,
(For more than ancient fame renown’d)
Display’d their magic pow’rs of sound,
Off mov’d—the Sheriff’s gown!!!

THE ANTIGALLICAN PRIVATEER.

The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d,
On board of her with speed we’ll hie;
She’ll soon be fit to sail away;
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, haste away,
To the Antigallican haste away.
For gold we’ll sail the ocean o’er,
From Britain’s isle to the French shore;
No ships from us shall run away;—
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, &c.
The Spaniards too, those cunning knaves,
We’ll take their ships and make them slaves;
Till war’s declar’d we’ll never stay;
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, &c.
If we should meet with a galloon,
Our own we’ll make her very soon;
Then drums shall beat and music play—
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, &c.
Our country calls us all to arms,
To keep us safe from French alarms;
Then let us all her voice obey,
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, &c.
When we are rich, then home we’ll steer,
And enter Shields with many a cheer;
To meet our friends so blythe and gay;
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, &c.
To Charlotte’s Head then let’s repair,
We’ll be receiv’d with welcome there;
We’ll enter then without delay;
To the Antigallican haste away.
Haste away, &c.

A NEW SONG,
On the Opening of Jarrow Colliery, 1803.

Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing,
And of their Colliery at Jarrow;
Of coals that are good as e’er swam the flood,
For home consumption or far, O.
They tell us, my friend, there’s coal at Walls-End,
Can scarcely meet with a marrow;
But let them come here, we’ll make it appear,
Coals were not then wrought at Jarrow.
There is Heaton Main, and Walker by name,
Known to most near and far, O;
I this will maintain in language that’s plain,
There’s none that surpasseth Jarrow;
Above the Tyne Bridge, its often been said,
Few with these can compare, O;
A good dog was Brag—but hold fast, my lad—
Nothing they knew then of Jarrow!
To Temple and King, great wealth may they bring,
From home consumption, or far, O;
May success attend, wherever they send
Their coals, the produce of Jarrow.
May overmen all, with great and the small,
Ne’er have occasion to sorrow!
May heart, hand, and head, procure them bread,
For wives and children at Jarrow!
Call another bowl to enliven our soul,
Temple we’ll drink and his marrow;
Three cheers we will give, cry, Long may they live!
The prosp’rous owners of Jarrow.
Call another bowl, &c.

East Rainton.

L——

THE PEACOCK AND THE HEN.

All the night over and over,
And all the night over again—
All the night over and over,
The peacock follows the hen.
A hen’s a hungry dish,
A goose is hollow within;
There’s no deceit in a pudding;
A pye’s a dainty thing.

THE TYNE,
A FRAGMENT.

BY J.L.

O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen,
Meand’ring sweet thy lucid stream—
Thy banks are woody, fertile, green,
Enliven’d by the solar beam.
Thy sons are healthy, blooming, strong,
Thy daughters lovely as the spring;
They joyful trip the meads along,
Such joys doth sweet industry bring.
Adieu, sweet Tyne—a long adieu,
I now must leave thee far behind;
Yet tho’ secluded from my view,
Thoul’t dwell for ever in my mind.

CONTENTS.

Page
As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate5
Whe’s like my Johnnyib.
My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie7
’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow8
Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny9
Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street10
Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne11
Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring12
Like wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen14
When unprovok’d, when foreign foes15
John Diggons be I, from a Country Town16
In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong18
Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians and Tartars19
When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success21
The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief23
Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, mun25
Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off27
Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now29
Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet31
Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows33
Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows34
As me and my marrow was ganning to wark35
If I had another penny36
The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddieib.
Hae ye heard o’ these wond’rous dons37
The Baff week is o’er—no repining—38
On each market day, Sir, the folks on the Quay, Sir43
Lads! myek a ring45
I was a young maiden truly48
My muse took flight the other day49
When war’s destructive rage did cease53
Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream56
Attend to my summons, ye British Electors57
To sing some nymph in her cot58
When cooling zephyrs wanton play59
Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow60
Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell61
Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear62
Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney63
On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Cleret and Sherry66
Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d67
Who’s he that with great Mercury strides68
Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion70
Great was the consternation, amazement and dismay, Sir73
The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose77
As Neddy and Betty were walking along79
Now fill a bumper to the brim81
I’m lonesome since I left Blyth camps84
We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe85
Come fill a bumper to the brim86
Come cheer up my hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne87
What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal88
Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair89
Tho lofty bards sublimer sing91
When Royal Ge—e on new year’s day94
Sir James Duncan and Co their kind compliments send97
Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear99
In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds100
Of a’ the many bonny corps101
Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair freedom102
The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppres’d with103
Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money105
Fra Benton Bank, to Benton town106
Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde107
The Perssye came byfore hys oste111
It fell and about the Lammas time116
The Persé owt off Northomberlonde118
The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent122
God prosper long our noble king128
I have heard of a lilting, at our ewe’s milking136
From Spey to the border137
’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart142
On July seventh, the suthe to say143
When we were silly sisters seven, sisters we were so fair147
There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill150
Sir Swinton was a doughty knight152
The king is gone from Bambrough Castle156
On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore161
The kye are come hameib.
Come you lusty Northerne lads162
Here lies the corpse of William Bell166
Wold you please to hear of a sang of duleib.
Old Janus advances all cloathed in white171
The routing the earl of Mar’s forces175
Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses180
Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel184
Ye muses nine, if ye think fit185
Good Master Moody188
The little priest of Felton189
There lives a lass in Felton town190
In second part I will declare192
He’s gone! he’s gone195
On Saturday196
God prosper long our noble king197
Callaly Castle stands on a height199
In Bedlington, there liv’d a fair200
The lady sat in leafy bow’r202
Nought but some dæmon’s baleful step206
Hoot awa’, lads hoot awa’209
Ihon Redle that som tim did be210
Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains211
Oh, have you seen the blushing roseib.
The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May212
A bonny swain blithe Sandy nam’d214
In Britain’s blest insland there runs a fine river215
Now the feather’d train in each bush216
Apollo, your aid I request217
Ye sacred nine descend218
Unsullied mirth attend this feast219
To fertile soil and fragrant air220
O bonny Hobby Elliott221
Little wat ye wha’s coming222
Mackintosh was a soldier brave223
The king has written a broad letter225
How mournful feeble Nature’s toneib.
In former times where Hexham town doth stand227
Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle228
Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song229
The first of March, from Cockle Park231
Next day to the Thatchmeadows I233
Good fortune still attends the brave234
A fair reformation would render this nation236
The ploughman he comes home at night237
Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flowsib.
At Christmas when the wind blew cauld238
It happen’d at good Christmas tide239
About the bush Willy240
I cannot get to my love if I should dee241
As I went to Newcastleib.
I went to Black Heddon242
John Thompson, just nowib.
Of a Pitman we’ll singib.
Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place243
All lovers of lucre may LAUD the Lord Mayor245
Northumberland lads are handsome squads247
A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions248
All men of high and low degree250
On travelling down Tweed-side251
Young Solomon, tir’d of a batchelors life252
Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing253
There was five wives at Acomb256
Now little Billy is gone to the kirk257
I was young and lustyib.
Come, gentlemen attend to my ditty258
I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend261
On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old262
Come, brave spirits, that love Canary264
Upon the stately river Tees265
Ye Stockton lads and lasses too267
Ye freeholders of Stockton town269
Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend271
Militia boys for my theme I now chuse274
’Twas on a summer’s evening275
Rookhope stands in a pleasant place276
Come all the gallant brave wenches281
Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea283
In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hillib.
You Sunderland lasses draw near284
Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar285
Elsie Marley is grown so fineib.
Thro’ Durham County fam’d of old287
Come all ye lads who wish to shine288
And are ye sure the tale is trueib.
When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms290
Durham’s old city thus salutes her king291
As aw was gannin to Durham292
While visiting this dark abodeib.
Lov’d stream, that meanders along293
Its hey for the buff and the blue294
At home wad I be296
Its o but I ken wellib.
Up the raw, ma bonny hinny297
If you want a busom298
Up the Butcher bank299
Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad300
Brandling for ever, and Ridley for ayeib.
My laddie sits owre late up301
They’ve prest my dear Johnnyib.
Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s to be wed302
Old Jarrow, long fam’d for monastical lore304
The sailors are all at the bar306
We’ll all away to the Lowlightsib.
Six centeries since, some say, a son of South Seaton307
God prosper long our warlike king309
There is not in the world’s terraqueous round310
Whence those cries, my soul that harrow312
’Bout Lunnun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes314
Croney its now near thirty year316
’Tis said that in the good old times319
The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d320
Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing321
All the night over and over322
O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seenib.