CHAPTER III.
Cherryburn House, the place of my nativity, and which for many years my eyes beheld with cherished delight, is situated on the south side of the Tyne, in the county of Northumberland, a short distance from the river. The house, stables, &c., stand on the west side of a little dean, at the foot of which runs a burn.[[6]] The dean was embellished with a number of cherry and plumb trees, which were terminated by a garden on the north. Near the house, were two large ash trees growing from one root; and, at a little distance, stood another of the same kind. At the south end of the premises, was a spring well, overhung by a large hawthorn bush, behind which was a holly hedge; and further away was a little boggy dean, with underwood and trees of different kinds. Near the termination of this dean, towards the river, were a good many remarkably tall ash trees, and one of oak, supposed to be one of the tallest and straightest in the kingdom. On the tops of these was a rookery, the sable inhabitants of which, by their consultations and cawings, and the bustle they made when building their nests, were among the first of the feathered race to proclaim the approaching spring. The corn-fields and pastures to the eastward were surrounded with very large oak and ash trees. Indeed, at that time, the country between Wylam and Bywell was beautified with a great deal of wood, which presented the appearance of a continued forest; but these are long since stubbed up. Needy gentry care little about the beauty of a country, and part of it is now, comparatively, as bare as a mole-hill.
To the westward, adjoining the house, lay the common or fell, which extended some few miles in length, and was of various breadths. It was mostly fine, green sward or pasturage, broken or divided, indeed, with clumps of “blossom’d whins,” foxglove, fern, and some junipers, and with heather in profusion, sufficient to scent the whole air. Near the burns, which guttered its sides, were to be seen the remains of old oaks, hollowed out by Time, with alders, willows, and birch, which were often to be met with in the same state; and these seemed to me to point out the length of time that these domains had belonged to no one. On this common,—the poor man’s heritage for ages past, where he kept a few sheep, or a Kyloe cow, perhaps a flock of geese, and mostly a stock of bee-hives,—it was with infinite pleasure that I long beheld the beautiful wild scenery which was there exhibited, and it is with the opposite feelings of regret that I now find all swept away.[[7]] Here and there on this common were to be seen the cottage, or rather hovel, of some labouring man, built at his own expense, and mostly with his own hands; and to this he always added a garth and a garden, upon which great pains and labour were bestowed to make both productive; and for this purpose not a bit of manure was suffered to be wasted away on the “lonnings” or public roads. These various concerns excited the attention and industry of the hardy occupants, which enabled them to prosper, and made them despise being ever numbered with the parish poor. These men, whose children were neither pampered nor spoiled, might truly be called—
“A bold peasantry, their country’s pride;”
and to this day I think I see their broad shoulders and their hardy sun-burnt looks, which altogether bespoke the vigour of their constitutions.
These cottagers (at least those of them I knew) were of an honest and independent character, while at the same time they held the neighbouring gentry in the greatest estimation and respect; and these, again, in return, did not overlook them, but were interested in knowing that they were happy and well. Most of these poor men, from their having little intercourse with the world, were in all their actions and behaviour truly original; and, except reading the Bible, local histories, and old ballads, their knowledge was generally limited. And yet one of these—“Will Bewick”—from being much struck with my performances, which he called pictures, became exceedingly kind to me, and was the first person from whom I gathered a sort of general knowledge of astronomy and of the magnitude of the universe. He had, the year through, noticed the appearances of the stars and the planets, and would discourse “largely” on the subject. I think I see him yet, sitting on a mound, or seat, by the hedge of his garden, regardless of the cold, and intent upon viewing the heavenly bodies; pointing to them with his large hands, and eagerly imparting his knowledge to me with a strong voice such as one now seldom hears. I well remember being much struck with his appearance—his stern-looking brows, high cheek bones, quick eye, and longish visage; and at his resolution (upon another occasion) when he determined upon risking his own life to save that of another man. The latter, in the employ of my father, while at work as a pitman, had lost his way in the coal workings, and was missing for perhaps a day or two, (my father being from home), when our old neighbour, just described, who was also a pitman and knew the workings, equipped himself with everything he thought necessary for so hazardous an undertaking; and, when he was about to go down the pit shaft, I felt much distressed at seeing my mother trembling in great agitation of mind for his safety and that of his lost associate. After traversing through the old workings of the colliery for a long time,—so long, indeed, that it was feared he had also lost himself,—he found the man alive, when, with his well-known thundering voice, he called from the bottom of the shaft, “all’s well,” to the inexpressible joy of all who crowded the pit’s mouth.
Another of our fell-side neighbours, Anthony Liddell, was a man of a very singular character, and was noticed as such by the whole neighbourhood; but a full account of him would far exceed the bounds I wish to set to my narrative. He might, indeed, be called the “village Hampden.” The whole cast of his character was formed by the Bible, which he had read with attention, through and through. Acts of Parliament which appeared to him to clash with the laws laid down in it, as the Word of God, he treated with contempt. He maintained that the fowls of the air and the fish of the sea were free for all men; consequently, game laws, or laws to protect the fisheries, had no weight with him. He would not, indeed, take a salmon out of the locks on any account, but what he could catch with his “click-hook,” in the river, he deemed his own. As to what he could do in shooting game, he was so inexpert, that he afforded to sportsmen many a hearty laugh at his awkwardness; for he could shoot none till he fixed a hay-fork in the ground to rest his piece upon. Indeed, the very birds themselves might, by a stretch of imagination, be supposed also to laugh at him; but his deficiencies did not deter him from traversing over the country-side as eagerly as other sportsmen, notwithstanding his want of success. Whatever he did was always done in open day; for, as he feared no man, he scorned to skulk or to do anything by stealth. The gaol had no terrors for him, for he lived better there than he did at home; and, on one occasion of his being confined, when he returned home he expressed his surprise to his neighbours, that all the time “he had not had a single hand’s turn to do,” and exulted not a little that the opportunity had thus been given him of again reading the Bible through. He was a great reader of history, especially those parts where wars and battles were described; and, in any meetings with his neighbours, he took the lead in discourses founded on knowledge of that kind. After the Bible, “Josephus” was his favourite author, next the “Holy Wars”—these and “Bishop Taylor’s Sermons” composed his whole library; and his memory enabled him nearly to repeat whatever he had read. His deportment and behaviour were generally the reverse of anything like sauciness; but, except in ability and acquirements,—which, indeed, commanded his respect,—he treated all men as equals. When full-dressed, he wore a rusty black coat. In other respects he was like no other person. In what king’s reign his hat had been made was only to be guessed at, but the flipes of it were very large. His wig was of the large curled kind, such as was worn about the period of the revolution. His waistcoat, or doublet, was made of the skin of some animal. His buckskin breeches were black and glossy with long wear, and of the same antiquated fashion as the rest of his apparel. Thus equipt, and with his fierce look, he made a curious figure when taken before the justices of the peace; and this, together with his always—when summoned before them—undauntedly pleading his own cause, often afforded them so much amusement that it was difficult for them to keep their gravity.
Thomas Forster was a man of a different character from the last, but singular enough in his way. He was distinguished for his frugality and industry, and always showed a wish to be looked upon in a respectable light. He used to call at our house on a Sunday afternoon, for the purpose of having a bit of chat with my father and mother. He took a liking to me, and would observe that, though I was mischievous enough, yet he never could find that I was “parrentory,”—that is, impudent or saucy with any one. Besides this part of the good opinion he had formed, he must have had confidence as to my keeping any secrets he might impart to me. He kept a few sheep on the fell; but his secret and main business there was looking after his bees. He had a great number of hives placed in very hidden and curious situations. Some of them were concealed under the boundary hedge of the common, and were surrounded by a great extent of whin bushes. Other hives were sheltered under the branches of old thorns, and almost covered or overhung by brambles, woodbine, and hip briars, which, when in blossom, looked beautifully picturesque, while at the same time they served to keep the eye from viewing the treasures thus concealed beneath. Others, again, were placed in the midst of a “whin rush”—that is, a great extent of old whins, the stems of which were about the thickness of a man’s arm. The entrance to these last was always by a “smout hole,” or small opening, through which we crept on hands and knees to the hives, and which, on leaving, was stopped up by a bushy-topped whin. By way of taking off the attention of the “over-inquisitive” as to his stock of honey, he kept hives in his garden at home, and sold the produce of these to his neighbours; but the greater part of his stock was sold at distant parts of the country. In this way, and by his industry and good management, he became what was accounted very rich; and, as prosperity excites envy, some people, in a kind of derision (his mother being a midwife), called him “Tom Howdy.”
I might swell the list of such like characters (among the unnoticed poor) as those I have described, but it would perhaps be tedious, although, I think it is to be regretted that they are not better known to some of the unthinking great; as it might serve to take off the hauteur, which is too often shown towards them.