FOR many years, including a part of those of my apprenticeship, my
master and self were fully employed upon such work as I have named
before, from silversmiths, watchmakers, and hardwaremen; but a new
customer (Isaac Hymen, a Jew), came in the way with his seal-cutting
orders, which amounted to more, in that way, than all the rest put
together. This man, besides his box of watches, trinkets, &c., had
gathered together a large collection of impressions of well-cut seals;
and, being a man of good address, and a good singer, had introduced
himself into coffee-rooms frequented by gentlemen and respectable
tradesmen, where he exhibited his impressions as the work of his own
hands; and, by this management—for he knew nothing whatever of
engraving—he got orders. Somehow or other, it was propagated throughout
the town that his seals surpassed by far anything we ever did, or could
do; and, although we had done the whole of his orders, this was
believed, and there seemed to be only one opinion as to his very
superior excellence. I remember once rising early in the morning, and
working till late at night, and, on that day, cutting five steel seals
with cyphers and initials, for which our common wholesale charge was
3_s._ 6_d._, and to our private customers, 5_s._ For these he charged
12_s._ 6_d._ each to his friends. He observed to me, on my remarking to
him on his extravagant charges, “that it was foolish in us to do as we
did;” and, for himself, he said, “you know, I must live.” My wages for
the short time I worked for my master, after I was out of my
apprenticeship, was a guinea per week, but Isaac offered me two guineas
if I would travel with him. The travelling part I should have liked well
enough, but not to travel with a Jew. He went on in this way, with his
orders, till we had no other customer in that department; and my master
then, as well as when I became his partner, often expressed himself
highly chagrined that some of his old private friends went past him, and
even joined others in lessening our work. Our friend Isaac continued
long uninterruptedly thus to carry all before him, till some of our old
customers became irritated at him, and particularly a watchmaker, who
took great pains to open out and expose the business. Isaac then left
Newcastle, and report said he was found dead on the road between
Sunderland and Durham. I have often seen, in London,—and perhaps the
same may be observed in every large town,—“The pale artist ply his
sickly trade,” to keep in affluence such managing, money-making,
pretended artists as Isaac Hymen; and this must continue to be the case
so long as gentlemen will not go themselves to the fountain head, and be
at the pains to encourage merit.
Our main supporter in the silver engraving, was John Langlands, who was
of a cheerful, hospitable, and charitable disposition, full of stories
and anecdotes, and who greatly esteemed men of ability, integrity, and
industry. These he never forgot when age or infirmities brought them
down. He then shook hands with them as he had done before, but his own
mostly concealed his token of respect—a half guinea. I spent many a
cheerful evening in Mr. L.’s house, in company with others who also
partook of his hospitable board. The most remarkable of these was
Matthew Prior, who had the character of being one of the best mechanics
in the kingdom. He was assay master, a musical instrument maker, and a
turner, in which last he particularly excelled. The many remarkable
pieces of dexterous workmanship he had done in that way drew upon him
the notice of many gentlemen in the two northern counties, with whom
also, as an angler, a sportsman, and a jovial companion, he was a
welcome guest. It happened, on some pretence or other, that an attempt
was made to take away the assay business from Newcastle, which
occasioned Prior to be sent for, to be examined by (I believe) a
committee of the House of Commons, as to his ability in conducting that
business. The ease, the clearness, as well as the straight-forward way
in which he answered all questions excited some surprise, as well as
approbation. When questioned as to the accuracy of his scale-beam, he
said a hair clipped from the back of his hand would turn his scales
either way. For a wager, he turned two billiard balls of such equal
weights that the difference was as nothing. He was of a most independent
cast of character, and open and frank in his conversation. It had been
reported that Prior had said of a proud, high-minded gentleman that “he
durst do what neither the gentleman nor any of his family dared do.”
Prior had never said any such thing; but this gentleman took him to task
about it, and, with great indignation, accused him of saying so. At
this, Prior, in his turn, felt offended, and told him, though he had
never said so, he would now say so to his face. This produced a wager
between them; and Matthew told him he would double the bet if he
pleased. “Now,” said the gentleman, in high ill-humour, “what is it you
dare do?” “Do!” said Prior, “I dare spend the last shilling I have in
the world!”[23]
During a great part of the time I have been noticing, the American War
was going on. The “press” broke out just after I landed in London, and,
to escape the gang, one of our crew came and took refuge with me. This
poor fellow, a decent man, had in his youth been on board a ship of war;
and, as far as concerned himself, he said he did not mind going again;
but the thoughts of being dragged from his family threw him into very
great distress. Political writings and debatings sometimes ran very high
between those who were advocates for a system of corruption, and
profited by the taxes, and those who were advocates for the liberties of
mankind; but it always appeared to me that a very great majority of the
people were decidedly against the war. These writings and debatings,
which the war occasioned, certainly served greatly to alter the notions
and the opinions of the people respecting the purity of the British
government, and its representative system; and this attempt at doing it
away altogether in America seemed a prelude to the same system of
misrule, when, by slower degrees, a future opportunity offered for doing
it away at home. In these political debatings, the question was often
asked, “Whether the government was made for the people, or the people
for the government?” Great numbers, who hoped for the best, still clung
to the government under which they had been brought up, and had been
taught to revere as excellency itself. While others were contending
whether a kingly government or a republic was best, it was generally
admitted that a deal might be said _pro_ and _con_; for many examples
might be adduced of mal-administration under both forms. Some of these
disputants would repeat what Pope had said—
Footnote 23:
Matthew Prior died June 15, 1800, aged 65, and was buried in St.
Nicholas’ Church, Newcastle.
“For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight,
His can’t be wrong whose life is in the right;
For forms of government, it is confest
That which is best administered is best.”
In England the people may boast that their forefathers had a king, in
Alfred the Great, the wisest, the bravest, and the best the world ever
knew; by whose excellent conduct was laid the foundation of the
liberties of his country, and from the influence of which there can be
no doubt that the English language will be spoken over the whole Globe.
Were kings to endeavour to follow his example, and ever to keep in mind
that they and their ministers ought to consider themselves as a royal
society for the promotion of arts and sciences, and of everything that
can enlighten the minds and ameliorate the condition of mankind, they
would do right. Kings would then reign in the hearts of the great
overwhelming mass of the people, and no confederacy or conspiracy of
nobles or others could ever upset their rule. But, while they continue
to suffer themselves to be surrounded by flatterers, sycophants, and
selfish knaves, no good need be expected; for they are thus brought up,
like petted children, and have not the same chance of becoming wise as
other men. Thus situated, they are to be pitied. One would think that
the respectable part of the old nobility, or other opulent men of great
abilities, might be found with patriotism enough to perform the offices
of the ministry gratis, scorning high salaries, and only looking to
honourable distinction. This would of itself put an end to corruption.
Justices of the peace take the very great trouble of acting their parts
gratuitously; churchwardens and overseers do the same; and why do not
the great and rich men of the land follow the praiseworthy example?
In reverting back to take another look at the American war, one may
reckon to a certainty of its having been made the subject of debatings,
and of furnishing matter for the thinking part of mankind, over the
whole of the civilised world. George the Third and his advisers did not,
perhaps, think of this, nor its consequences; neither did they ever
contemplate the mighty events they were thus bringing about in rearing
and establishing the wisest and greatest republic and nation the world
ever saw. When its immense territory is filled with an enlightened
population, and its government, like a rock, founded on the liberties
and the rights of man, it is beyond human comprehension to foresee the
strides the nation will make towards perfection. It is likely they will
cast a compassionate eye on the rest of the world, grovelling under
arbitrary power, banish it from the face of the earth, and kill despots
with a frown. One would fain hope, however, that kings and their
advisers will coolly reflect upon the improving intellect of mankind,
and take measures to govern in a way more befitting the state of the
people over whom they are called upon to rule.
During the long continuance of this war, and the debatings as before
noticed, I became acquainted with a number of young men of a literary
turn, who had a library of books. I did not join their society, but I
sometimes dined with them at their annual, cheerful dinner. I was never
fond of public dinners or dining parties; and I think I would not have
partaken with them had I not been tempted to do so by way of bearing
their songs, with which I felt much charmed, but particularly with the
Scotch songs, with which one of the members (Walter Cannaway) used so
highly to delight the company on these occasions. He, according to my
notions, was the best singer I ever heard. I have always been more
charmed with the human voice, when well attuned, than with any
instrumental music whatever; and his voice was extremely good. Many
others, perhaps, might have as good a voice, and as correct an ear for
music as he, and would have been equally as charming had they not been
spoiled by the fashion they had got into to please the surfeited tastes
of coxcombical connoisseurs and a vitiated, aping public. I have ever
been much disgusted to hear and see these spoiled performers, quavering
and spinning out their unnatural falsetto voices until almost spent. It
showed well how long-winded these kind of performers were, but I never
could sit to hear any of them; as it appeared to me to be anything but
music, or music run mad.
On my first going to business, I had an opportunity of sometimes hearing
musical concerts. My master belonged to a musical society; and, when I
had any message to take to him, I was commonly invited to remain. The
two sons of Charles Avison, the musical composer, belonged to this
society, and Mr. Beilby and family were on terms of intimacy with them.
I also occasionally heard the band at the theatre, but I cannot say I
felt much pleasure in listening to them, and I well remember on one
occasion of setting them aside. The late Mr. Dibden, who often called
upon me, had some performance to exhibit at our theatre, and had
quarrelled with the theatrical band on account of their exorbitant
demands; and, in this dilemma, he expressed himself much disappointed,
and knew not what to do. I told him I thought, if he would leave the
matter to me, I could set all right; and I instantly applied to old Wm.
Lamshaw, the Duke of Northumberland’s piper, to play at the theatre. I
being well-acquainted with the old man, he readily assented. I then told
my friend Dibden what I had done, and satisfied him as to the preference
the audience would give to the piper. In this I was not mistaken; for
all went well off, and everyone expressed both pleasure and surprise at
the change.
Some time before the American war broke out, there had been a lack of
musical performers in our streets, and in this interval, I used to
engage John Peacock, our inimitable performer, to play on the
Northumberland or small pipes; and with his old tunes, his lilts, his
pauses, and his variations, I was always excessively pleased. At one
time I was afraid that these old times, and this ancient instrument,
might, from neglect of encouragement, get out of use, and I did
everything in my power to prevent this, and to revive it, by urging
Peacock to teach pupils to become masters of this kind of music; and I
flatter myself that my efforts were not lost. I was afraid that the
Northumberland family were beginning to feel indifferent, or to overlook
these their ancient minstrels, who had for ages past been much esteemed,
and kept in attendance by their forefathers. It was, however, with great
pleasure I found that they had appointed William Cant,[24] a pupil of
old William Lamshaw, to be piper to the Northumberland Regiment of
Militia; and he kept up with great spirit and effect this department of
their music while he remained in the regiment. Nor was the regiment
behind in the other departments of music; for it was allowed by judges
that their fifers and drummers were inferior to none in the kingdom. One
man, in particular—John Bowman—it was asserted, was the best performer
on the fife that was “known in the world.” Certain it is that every year
for twenty-two years, he challenged the fifers of every regiment
stationed in Newcastle, to a trial of skill on that instrument; but none
of them could compete with him. He could draw out tones from it the most
soft and graceful, as well as the most stunning and loud, such as the
ear could not endure in a room, and which were only fit to be heard in
the open air.
Footnote 24:
On his death, I sent the following notice to Mr. Walker’s newspaper:—
“July 15th, 1821, died, Mr. William Cant, of the Blue Bell Inn,
Newcastle, aged 70 years. He was an excellent performer on the violin
and the Northumberland pipes; and, like his great predecessors on the
latter instrument—Turnbull, Gilley, Old Lamshaw, and Peacock—he kept
up the ancient tunes with all their charming lilts and pauses,
unspoiled by the _modern improvers_ of music, with their ‘Idiot notes
impertinently long.’ He played ‘his native wood-notes wild,’ such as
pleased the ears of the yeomanry of old at Otterburn, Hedgley Moor,
and Flodden Field. For—
‘Whene’er his pipe did silence break
You’d thought the instrument would speak.’”
[Illustration]
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