_APPRENTICESHIP._
THE boy was learning idle habits. He refused to go back to the
Lancaster school. Indeed, from the cruel treatment he had received
there, his parents did not ask him to return. He had now been expelled
from three schools. If he went to a fourth, it is probable that he
might also have been expelled from that. It would not do for him to go
scouring the hills in search of adders, or to bring them home to the
“terrification” of his neighbours. He himself wished to go to work. His
parents at last gave their consent, though he was then only about six
years old. But poor people can always find something for their children
to do out of doors. The little that they earn is always found very
useful at home.
[Sidenote: _TOBACCO WORKING._]
Edward’s brother, who was about two years older than himself, was
working at Craig and Johnston’s tobacco work. On inquiry, it was
found that the firm was willing to take young Edward at the wage of
fourteen-pence a week. The tobacco-spinners worked in an old house
situated at the end of the flour mill in St. Nicholas Street. Each
spinner had three boys under him—the wheeler, the pointer, and the
stripper. Edward went through all these grades. As a stripper he could
earn about eighteen-pence a week.
[Illustration: THE SPIRES OF ST. MACHAR.]
The master was a bird-fancier, so that Edward got on very well with
him. The boy brought him lots of nests and young birds in summer,
and old birds which he trapped during winter. The master allowed him
to keep rabbits in the back yard; so that, what between working and
playing, attending to his rabbits and catering for their food, his time
passed much more happily than it had done at school.
After being in the tobacco work for about two years, Edward heard that
boys were getting great wages at a factory at Grandholm, situated on
the river Don, about two miles from Aberdeen. The high wages were a
great attraction. Tom and his brother took the advantage of a fast-day
to go to the mill and ask for employment. The manager told the boys
that he wanted no additional hands at that time, but that he would put
their names down and let them know when he required their services.
They returned and told their parents what they had done. Both father
and mother were against the change, partly because of Tom’s youth,
and partly because of the distance Grandholm was from Aberdeen. Tom,
however, insisted that he could both work and walk; and at last his
parents gave their consent.
[Illustration: THE BRIG O’ BALGOWNIE.]
[Sidenote: _BANKS OF THE DON._]
There was another reason besides the high wages which induced Tom to
wish to be employed at Grandholm. He kept this to himself. He had often
seen the place before, though only at a distance. But who that has
seen the banks and braes of the Don, from the Auld Brig[17] to the
Haughs of Grandholm, can ever forget it? Looking down from the heights
above the Brig of Balgownie, you see the high broad arch thrown across
the deep and dark winding Don. Beneath you, the fishermen are observed
hauling to the shore their salmon nets. Westward of the Auld Brig the
river meanders amongst the bold bluff banks, clothed to the summit with
thick embowered wood. Two or three miles above are the Haughs, from
which a fine view of the Don is obtained, with the high wood-covered
bank beyond it; and, over all, the summits of the spires of St. Machar,
the cathedral church of Old Aberdeen.
[Sidenote: _AT GRANDHOLM MILLS._]
It was to roam through these woods and amidst this beautiful scenery,
that young Edward so much desired to be employed at the Grandholm
factory. Nor was he disappointed in his expectations. Scarcely three
days had elapsed ere a letter arrived at the Edwards’ house, informing
both the boys that they would be employed at the mill at the usual
wages. The hours were to be from six o’clock in the morning till eight
o’clock in the evening.
The boys had accordingly to be up by about four in the morning, after
which they had to get their breakfast and to walk two miles to their
work. They were seldom home at night before nine. It was delightful in
summer, but dreary in winter, when they went and came in the cold dark
nights and mornings. The wages of the boys were at first from three to
four shillings a week each, and before they left the mill their wages
were from five to six shillings a week.
[Sidenote: _FACTORY WORK._]
The boys were first put into the heckling shop. They were next
transferred to a small mill at the end of the larger one. Young Edward
worked there. His business was to attend at the back of a braker,—to
take away the cases when they were full, and put empty ones in their
places. He was next set to attend two carding-machines; and from these
to the roving or spinning side, three of which he frequently kept
before he left. This was the highest work done in that room.
“People may say of factories what they please,” says Edward, “but I
liked this factory. It was a happy time for me whilst I remained there.
It was situated in the centre of a beautiful valley, almost embowered
amongst tall and luxuriant hedges of hawthorn, with watercourses and
shadowy trees between, and large woods and plantations beyond. It
teemed with nature and natural objects. The woods were easy of access
during our meal-hours. What lots of nests! What insects, wild flowers,
and plants, the like of which I had never seen before! Prominent
amongst the birds was the Sedge Warbler,[18] which lay concealed in the
reedy copses, or by the margin of the mill-lades. Oh! how I wondered
at the little thing; how it contrived to imitate almost all the other
birds I had ever heard, and none to greater perfection than the chirrup
of my old and special favourite the sparrow.”
[Sidenote: _THE KINGFISHER._]
One day he saw a Kingfisher—a great event in his life! What a beautiful
bird! What a sparkling gem of nature! Resplendent in plumage and
gorgeous in colour—from the bright turquoise blue to the deepest
green, and the darker shades of copper and gold. Edward was on a
nesting excursion, with some little fellows like himself, along the
braes of the Don, and at some distance above the Auld Brig, when he
first saw this lustrous bird. “I was greatly taken,” he says, “with
its extraordinary beauty, and much excited by seeing it dive into the
stream. I thought it would drown itself, and that its feathers would
eventually become so clogged with water that it would not be able to
fly. Had this happened—which, of course, it did not—my intention was
to have plunged in to the rescue, when, as a matter of course, I would
have claimed the prize as my reward. Thus buoyed up, I wandered up
and down the river after the bird, until the shades of even came down
and forced me to give up the pursuit; and I then discovered, having
continued the chase so long, that I was companionless, and had to
return home alone.
[Sidenote: _COUNTRY RAMBLES._]
“It so happened, that for a month or two during summer-time, owing
to the scarcity of water, one part of the factory worked during the
night-time and the other during the day-time, week and week about. This
was a glorious time for me. I rejoiced particularly in the night work.
We got out at six in the morning, and, instead of going directly home,
I used to go up to the woods of Scotston and Scotston Moor, scoured the
country round them, and then returned home by the Auld Brig. Another
day I would go up to Buxburn, range the woods and places about them,
and then home by Hilton or Woodside. Or again, after having crossed
Grandholm Bridge, instead of going up by Lausie Hillock, I went away
down Don side, by Tillydrone, the Aulten (Old Aberdeen), through the
fields to the Aulten links, whipped the whins there, then over the
Broad hill, and home by Constitution Street. I would reach it, perhaps,
about dinner-time, instead of at seven in the morning, although I had
to be back at the mill again by eight o’clock at night.
“Once, on a Saturday, after having visited Buxburn, I went round by the
back of the Dancing Cairns to the Stocket and the woods of Hazelhead,
then down the Rubislaw road, and home in the evening. Ah! these were
happy days. There were no taws to fear, and no tyrannical dominie to
lay them on. True, the farm people did halloo at me at times, but I
generally showed them a clean pair of heels. The gamekeepers, also,
sometimes gave me chase, but I managed to outstrip them; and although
no nests were to be got, there was always something to be found or
seen. In winter-time, also, when the canal was frozen, a mile of it lay
in our way home, and it was capital fun to slide along, going to and
coming from our work. This was life, genuine life, for the young. But,
alas! a sad change was about to come; and it came very soon.”
[Sidenote: _APPRENTICED TO A SHOEMAKER._]
The boys remained at Grandholm factory for about two years. Their
father thought that they ought both to be apprenticed to some
settled trade. The eldest boy left first, and was apprenticed to a
baker; then Tom, the youngest, left, very much to his regret, and
was bound apprentice to a shoemaker. He was eleven years old at
that time. His apprenticeship was to last for six years. His wages
began at eighteenpence a week, with sixpence to be added weekly in
each succeeding year. He was to be provided by his master with shoes
and aprons. The hours were to be from six in the morning to nine at
night,—two hours being allowed for meals.
[Sidenote: _CHARLES BEGG._]
The name of Edward’s master was Charles Begg. His shop was situated at
the highest part of Gallowgate. He usually employed from two to three
workmen. His trade consisted chiefly in manufacturing work of the
lightest description, such as ladies’ and children’s boots and shoes.
He himself worked principally at pump-making, and that was the branch
of the trade which young Edward was taught.
Begg was a low-class Cockney. He was born in London, where he learnt
the trade of shoemaking. He had gradually wandered northwards, until he
reached Inverness, where he lived for some time. Then he went eastward
to Elgin, then to Banff, until at last he arrived at Aberdeen, where
he married and settled. Begg was a good workman; though, apart from
shoemaking, he knew next to nothing. It is well, however, to be a
good workman, if one does his work thoroughly and faithfully. The
only things that Begg could do, besides shoemaking, were drinking and
fighting. He was a great friend of pugilism; though his principal
difficulty, when he got drunk, was to find anybody to fight with in
that pacific neighbourhood.
[Illustration: CHARLES BEGG’S SHOP, GALLOWGATE.]
It was a great misfortune for the boy to have been placed under
the charge of so dissolute a vagabond. He had, however, to do his
best. He learnt to make pumps and cut uppers, and proceeded to make
shoe-bottoms. He would, doubtless, have learnt his trade very well,
but for the drunkenness of his master, who was evidently going
headlong to ruin. He was very often absent from the shop, and when
customers called, Edward was sent out by his mistress to search the
public-houses frequented by Begg; but when found, he was usually
intoxicated. The customers would not return, and the business
consequently fell off. When drunk, Begg raved and swore; and after
beating the boy in the shop, he would go up-stairs and beat his wife.
[Sidenote: _SHOEMAKERS’ PETS._]
Shoemakers are usually very fond of pets, and especially of pet birds.
Many of the craft have singing-birds about them, and some are known to
be highly-skilled and excellent bird-fanciers. But Begg had no notion
of pets of any kind. He had no love whatever for the works of nature,
and detested those who had. Edward had been born with the love of birds
and living creatures, and Begg hated him accordingly. Begg used to
rifle his pockets on entering the shop, to see that Edward had nothing
of the kind about him. If he found anything he threw it into the
street,—his little boxes with butterflies, eggs, and such like. Many a
blow did he give Edward on such occasions. He used to say that he would
“stamp the fool out of him;” but he tried in vain.
[Sidenote: _BEGG’S BRUTALITY._]
One afternoon, when Edward had finished his work, and was waiting for
the return of his master in order to go to dinner, he was sitting with
a sparrow on his knee. It was a young sparrow which he had trained and
taught to do a number of little tricks. It was his pet, and he loved
it dearly. While he was putting the sparrow through its movements, the
master entered. He was three parts drunk. On looking at the bird on
Edward’s knee, he advanced, and struck Edward such a blow that it laid
him flat on the floor. The bird had fluttered to the ground, and was
trampled on.
When Edward was about to rise, he saw that Begg was going to kick him.
Raising up his arm to ward off the blow, Begg’s foot came in contact
with it, and, losing his balance, he reeled, staggered against the
wall, and fell backwards. He gathered himself together and got up. If
angry before, he was furious now. Edward, seeing that he was again
about to resume his brutality, called out that he would shout for help,
and that he wouldn’t be struck again without a cause! “Without a cause,
you idle blackguard! sitting playing with some of your devils instead
of doing my work!” “I had no work; it was done three hours ago, and I
was waiting to go to my dinner.” “It’s not near dinner time yet.” “It’s
four o’clock!” “I didn’t know it was so late; well, you may go!”
Tom seized the opportunity of picking up his poor and innocent bird
from the floor. He found it was still breathing. He put it tenderly in
his bosom and hastened homewards. His mother was not surprised at his
lateness, which was very usual, in consequence of the irregularity of
his master’s hours. “But what’s the matter wi’ ye?” she said; “your
face is bleedin’, and ye hae been greetin’.” “Look,” said he, taking
the harmless and now lifeless bird from his breast, and holding it
up,—“that would gar onybody greet;” and his tears fell on the mangled
body of his little pet. “I wouldn’t have cared so much for myself,”
he said, “if he had only spared my bird!” Then he told his mother all
that had happened, and he added that if Begg struck him again without a
cause, he would certainly run away. She strongly remonstrated against
this; because, being bound apprentice for six years, he must serve out
his time, come what would.
[Sidenote: _EDWARD’S PETS KILLED._]
On returning to the shoemaker’s shop in the afternoon, Edward was met
at the door by his master, who first shook him and then searched him.
But finding there was nothing about him, he was allowed to go to his
seat. And thus three years passed. The boy learnt something of his
trade. The man went on from bad to worse. In his drunken fits he often
abused and thrashed his apprentice. At last the climax came. One day
Edward brought three young moles to the shop. The moles were safely
ensconced in his bonnet. When Begg found the moles he killed them at
once, knocked down Edward with a last, seized him by the neck and
breast, dragged him to the door, and with a horrible imprecation threw
him into the street. Edward was a good deal hurt; but he went home,
determined that from that day he would never again serve under such a
brute.
Begg called at his mother’s next day, and ordered the boy to return to
his work. Edward refused. Begg then invoked the terrors of the law. “He
would compel Edward to fulfil his apprenticeship. He would prosecute
his father and his two sureties, and make them pay the penalty for
breaking the boy’s indenture.” This threat gave Edward’s mother a
terrible fright, especially when her boy insisted that he would not go
back. The family were left in fear and commotion for some time. But at
last, as nothing further was heard of the threatened prosecution, they
dismissed it from their minds.
[Sidenote: _WISHES TO BE A SAILOR._]
What was Edward to do next? He was thoroughly sick of his trade, and
wished to engage in some other occupation that would leave him freer
to move about. He would be a sailor! He had a great longing to see
foreign countries, and he thought that the best way of accomplishing
this object was to become a sailor. On mentioning the matter to his
parents, he was met with a determined and decided refusal. They tried
to dissuade him by various methods. “Man,” said his father to him, “do
you know that sailors have only a thin plank between them and death?
Na, na! If you’re no gaun back to Begg, you must find some other
master, and serve out your time. Bide ye at the shoemaker trade, and if
ye can make siller at it, ye can then gang and see as mony countries as
ye like!”
[Sidenote: _OFFERS HIMSELF AS CABIN BOY._]
Such was his father’s advice, but it did not suit young Edward’s views.
He wanted to be a sailor. He went down to the harbour, and visited
every ship there, in order to offer himself as a cabin boy. He asked
the captains to employ him, but in vain. At last he found one captain
willing to take him, provided he had the consent of his father. But
this he could not obtain, and therefore he gave up the idea for a time.
[Illustration: GRANDHOLM MILLS]
Then he thought of running away from home. He could not get away by
sea; he would now try what he could do by land. He had often heard
his parents talking about the Kettle, and of his uncle who had gone
in search of him to the gipsy camp. Edward thought he would like to
see this uncle. He might perhaps be able to help him to get some other
and better employment than that of shoemaking. His thoughts were very
undefined about the matter. But he certainly would not go back to work
again with Charlie Begg, the drunken shoemaker.
FOOTNOTES:
[17] The Auld Brig is also called the Brig o’ Balgownie. Byron, who
lived for some years at Aberdeen in his boyhood, says—“The Brig of Don,
near the ‘auld toun’ of Aberdeen, with its one arch and its black deep
salmon stream, is in my memory as yesterday. I still remember the awful
proverb which made me pause to cross it, and yet lean over it with a
childish delight—being an only son, at least by the mother’s side—
‘Brig o’ Balgownie, wight (strong) is thy wa’;
Wi’ a wife’s ae son on a mear’s ae foal
Down thou shalt fa’.’“
[18] Called also the English Mocking Bird, and the Scottish Nightingale.