Newcastle Song.
William Purvis, or, as he is generally styled, blind Willie, is a well-known character, and native of Newcastle, where he has resided since his infancy. He was born blind, and is the son of Margaret Purvis, who died in All Saints’ workhouse, February 7, 1819, in her hundredth year.
Willie is, indeed, as the ingenious Mr. Sykes calls him in his “Local Records,” a “famous musician,” for he has long been celebrated for his minstrelsy throughout the northern counties, but more particularly so in Northumberland. In Newcastle, Willie is respected by all—from the rudest to the gentlest heart all love him—children seize his hand as he passes—and he is ever an equally welcome guest at the houses of the rich and the hovels of the pitmen. The hoppings of the latter are cheered by the soul-inspiring sound of his viol: nay, he is, I may truly say, a very particle of a pitman’s existence, who, after a hard day’s labour, considers it a pleasure of the most exquisite nature to repair to some neighbouring pot-house, there to enjoy Willie’s music, and listen to the rude ballads he is in the habit of composing and singing to the accompaniment of his own music. Poor Willie! may he live long and live happy. When he dies many a tear will fall from eyes that seldom weep, and hearts that know little of the more refined sensations of our nature will heave a sigh. Willie will die, but not his fame will die. In many of those humorous provincial songs, with which Newcastle abounds more than any other town I am acquainted with—the very airs as well as the words of which possess a kind of local nationality—“Blind Willie” is the theme. These songs are the admiration of all who know how to appreciate genuine humour; several of them have been sung for years, and I venture to prophecy, will be sung by future generations.
Among the characters who have noticed “Willie” may be mentioned the present duke of Northumberland, sir Matthew White Ridley, the late Stephen Kemble, Esq. and the admirable comedian Matthews. Sir Matthew White Ridley is a most particular favourite with “Willie,” and it is no uncommon occurrence to hear Willie, as he paces along the streets of Newcastle, muttering to himself “Sir Maffa! sir Maffa! canny sir Maffa! God bless sir Maffa!”
One of Willie’s greatest peculiarities is thus alluded to by Mr. Sykes:—“He has travelled the streets of Newcastle time out of mind without a covering upon his head. Several attempts have been made, by presenting him with a hat, to induce him to wear one, but after having suffered it for a day or two it is thrown aside, and the minstrel again becomes uncovered, preferring the exposure of his pate to the ‘pelting of the pitiless storm.’” The [likeness] that accompanies this notice is from a large quarto engraving, published at Newcastle, and will doubtless be acceptable to numerous readers of that populous district wherein blind Willie is so popular.
FARMERS.
IN
1722.
Man to the plough;
Wife to the cow;
Girl to the sow;
Boy to the mow;
And your rents will be netted.