I HAVE noticed several of my friends and acquaintances whose characters
stood high in my estimation. I have now another to introduce, the
play-fellow of my youth, Thomas Lawson, as remarkable as any of them. He
left Tyneside, his and my home, and came to Newcastle about 1777 or ’78,
to launch out into the world of exertion and turmoil; and, from his
abilities and integrity, he seemed well befitted to make a great figure
in it, and, had he been spared, he would, in my opinion, have shone out
like another Benjamin Franklin. He was for a short time one of my
schoolfellows at Ovingham; but, from his father having been beggared by
the failure of a coal-owner for whom he had been employed many years, my
young friend was obliged to leave school, and to seek out some
employment for himself. In the interim, he took up his abode in my
father’s house as a home. The first employment that my companion got was
that of a plough-driver. He next became a farmer’s servant, and
afterwards a manager of a farm and brewery. In all these departments, he
was distinguished for his industry, good sense, good management, and
great integrity. It happened, however, that he, being handsome in his
person and manly in his deportment, his employer began to suspect that
the young lady of the house was showing a marked partiality towards him;
and this having occasioned some frowns and hints which his spirit could
not brook, he gave up his place and set off to Newcastle, where he bound
himself to a printer, as a pressman; for which he was to be paid 8_s._
per week. With this wage, he contrived to maintain himself, and to pay
out of it for a night-school education. His progress was truly
astonishing in figures, languages, the use of the globes, &c.; but his
memory was so tenacious that he retained whatever he learned, and he
could repeat the longest harangue, (as far as I was able to judge)
verbatim. I once had an opportunity of witnessing this, in his repeating
the whole of a charity sermon, preached by the eloquent the Rev. Dr.
Scott, of Simonburn. While he was employed in the drudgery of the
printing press, he, at the same time, made himself master of the
business of a compositor. Shortly after, he left this employment, and
married a young woman of respectable parentage. It happened that the
printing of a Bible in numbers had been established; but the publisher,
either from mismanagement, or something amiss, was on the verge of a
failure. In this state of affairs, Lawson turned his attention to the
business, and applied to his wife’s friends for assistance, but they
could, at that time, only spare him about thirty pounds; and with this
sum in hand, he made a proposal for purchasing the types, and everything
belonging to the printing office. It is singular enough that the printer
referred to, having left Newcastle, lived and had his printing office in
the governor’s house at Tynemouth, whither I went with my friend when
the bargain was to be closed between them. He now commenced business on
his own account, but how long he had to struggle through difficulties,
before he got well established, I have forgotten. It is remarkable that
he met with unsolicited aid from many friends; for every one who knew
him became interested in his welfare. He lived till he surmounted every
obstacle to his prosperity; but, in doing this, his too great
application and exertion ruined his health. He pined away and died, in a
house close by mine at the Forth, on the 7th March, 1783, aged 31 years.
I, with many other of his friends, accompanied his remains to Ovingham,
where he was buried. This was the first time in my life that I felt
poignant grief.
My old schoolfellow and friend, Philip Gregson, of the Custom House,
London, being on a visit to his relatives and friends in the north, in
1780, I, being fond of rambling, proposed setting him on his return
home, as far as York, if he would walk with me to that city, to which he
agreed; and, after spending a day or two with him there, we parted. On
my return, I took the road by Boroughbridge to Ripon, where I stayed a
short time till I had viewed the country round it, and particularly
Studley Park and its beautiful scenery. I then returned to Darlington,
and changed my route to the westward, by Barnard Castle, Bowes, over
Stainmore to Brough, Appleby, and Penrith; and from thence to my uncle’s
at Ainstable. On leaving him and his family, I walked home that day to
Cherryburn, and so on the next to Newcastle.
I have not interlarded this journey with any of my remarks on the
road—on the grandeur of York Minster—the large upright stones called
“The Devil’s Arrows,” near Boroughbridge—the extensive prospects from
Cross Fell, &c.; and therefore the whole of this may be regarded as
merely one of my “tramps,” and a description of these places by others
may be referred to.
In another of my perambulations, I prevailed on an acquaintance to
accompany me to Berwick. We set off, on an Easter Sunday morning, in
1784, by the seaside, and our first halt was at Chevington, beyond
Widdrington. I had not broken my fast, and was quite ready to make a
hearty meal upon some dry barley cake and cheese, whilst my thirsty
companion, with equal pleasure, enjoyed himself with hearty draughts of
ale. We reached Lesbury in the afternoon, and, when my fellow-traveller
sat down, he observed, that I might go on if I pleased, but he would not
move a foot further that night. Next day, after sauntering about a
little in the villages on our road, we reached Elwick, the hospitable
mansion of my friend Thomas Younghusband, Esq., where we stopped that
night. Mr. Younghusband happened to have a few of his friends to spend
the evening with him. We got on to make merry and to sing songs; and,
when it came to my companion’s turn, the party were so agreeably
surprised and pleased at his performance that we did not separate till
the morning. My companion and I set off to Berwick, and, after seeing
the town, we returned to Elwick by Holy Island. In the performance of
this day’s journey we had to encounter some difficulties which might
have been attended with fatal consequences. We had been cautioned
against attempting, after a certain hour, to walk across the extensive
flat left bare by the ebb tide. We were beyond the time named, but
resolved to proceed, and had to run the greatest part of the way; and it
was well we did so; for, before we reached the Island, we found the tide
was rapidly advancing between us and the shore, and we had to wade
deeply before we reached it. On looking back, over the flat space we had
just left, we were surprised to view it as a sea. My companion, being
rather corpulent, was in a sad state of perspiration with over exertion,
and I think I was not much better, from the anxiety I felt for him,
while I was constantly urging him to mend his speed. We now hastened to
a public house, dripping with wet, where my companion took a few glasses
of gin, and prevailed on me to take one along with him; and this is the
first glass of that liquor I ever recollect taking. Our next business
was to get a boat to set us across the arm of the sea, between the
island and the nearest shore, towards Elwick. It was then nearly dark;
and, before the boatmen got us rowed across, it was quite so. Where they
landed us we knew not, but we had to wade to the dry beach. In shaping
our course to Elwick, we lost ourselves in the fields, and it was late
before we arrived there. We were in as dirty a state as wet and mire
could make us. Mrs. Younghusband, however, lost no time in fitting us up
with dry clothes, and in making us as comfortable as she could. My
companion having some business of his own to attend to, I remained a day
or two at Elwick, and made a few visits with Mr. Younghusband in the
neighbourhood. Mr. Y. had to attend a meeting of freeholders, on some
election business, at the town hall, Alnwick, and I accompanied him
thither. Never having before heard any speeches, I was much entertained
with those now made. This being about the time that Mr. Pitt came into
the administration, and being the son of the great Chatham, most people
hoped and expected he would follow the bright, the patriotic example
that had been set him; but one gentleman appeared to differ in opinion
from the majority, and, in what I conceived to be an eloquent speech,
foretold that he would turn out, in character, to be quite a different
kind of man.
About the year 1790, I became a member of “Swarley’s Club,” held in the
evenings, at the Black Boy Inn. This was the most rational society or
meeting I ever knew. The few rules which bound us together were only
verbal. The first was that every member should conduct himself with
decorum, and as a gentleman. If any one transgressed on this point, he
was immediately fined, and if he did not pay, he was sent to Coventry,
or dismissed. On entering the room, every member paid fourpence, which
was to be spent in refreshment. Any member might introduce his friend at
the same expense. There were no fines for non-attendance and no regular
debatings allowed on any subject but such as might occasionally arise
out of the passing conversation, and the company separated at ten
o’clock. Conversations amongst the friends thus associated,—consisting
of merchants, or respectable tradesmen,—were carried on without
restraint, and only interrupted for the moment while the president
claimed attention to any particular news of the day that might be worth
notice. Such a place of meeting proved convenient and pleasant to many a
stranger who visited the town, and the expense was as nothing. It may
seem strange that, out of a fourpenny club like this, there was commonly
an overplus left, to give away at Christmas and Easter to some
charitable purpose. I went to this club when I had time to spare in an
evening, and seldom missed a week to an end. This happy society was at
length broken up, at the time when war on behalf of despotism was
raging, and the spy system was set afloat. Some spies, and others of the
same stamp, contrived to get themselves introduced, and to broach
political questions, for the purpose of exciting debates, and feeling
the pulse of the members, who before this had very seldom touched upon
subjects of that kind.
Besides being kept busy with the routine business of our work-office, I
was often engaged in executing wood cuts for publishers and printers, at
various times from about the year 1788 to 1790. The first of any
importance was the wood cuts of Roman altars, and the arms of the
Bishops of Durham, for “Hutchinson’s History of Durham,” in which my
friend, the late George Allan, Esq., of the Grange, Darlington, took a
conspicuous part. A set of cuts was done for “Goldsmith’s Deserted
Village,” for Mr. Walker, printer, of Hereford. Mr. Nicholson, printer
of Ludlow and Poughnill, the publisher of “Elegant Selections from
Various Authors,” employed me to embellish some of these with wood cuts.
My old friend, William Bulmer, of the Shakespeare Printing Office,
London, also employed me to execute the cuts for “Parnell’s Hermit” and
“Goldsmith’s Deserted Village.” Many other cuts were done, from time to
time, for printers in various parts of the kingdom. These formed an
almost endless variety. I engraved a series of copper plates, at a low
rate, for Sir Harry Liddell’s and Captain Consett’s “Tour to Lapland,”
in 1786. My partner and self were busily engaged in engraving, about the
year 1796, the plan of the proposed canal from Newcastle to Carlisle, as
projected by Mr. Chapman, engineer, and plans of estates and views of
the mansion houses of a few gentlemen who opposed the canal, on the
north side of the Tyne. After a great deal of scheming and manœuvering,
under the management of an attorney of great ability, the whole of this
great, this important national as well as local undertaking was baffled
and set aside. Most men of discernment were of opinion that the
coalowners “below bridge” were the cause of it. The canal, as projected
by Mr. Dodd, in 1795, would have certainly opened out a territory of
coal that might have affected their interest. It would appear, at least,
that they dreaded it; and in this, as in almost every other case,
private interest was found to overpower public good.
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