" GEORDIE PITMAN "

BY A COLLIERY DIRECTOR

" The bonny pit-laddie, the canny pit-laddie, The bonnie pit-ladclie, for me, 0 !

He sits in his hole, as black as a coal, And brings the white siller to me, 0 ! "

S0 sang the " Tyneside Songster," many years ago of " Geordie," as the pitman is generically known in the North Country, and Georgie is still as of old a very popular figure, though he is not intimately known to the general public. By the lasses he has always been appreciated :- " He dances so clever, he whistles so fine,

He's flattered and wooed from the Blyth to the Tyne,"

as Skipsey sang. He lives aloof from the world in his own pit-village, preoccupied by his toil ; then when his work is done he has his own special sports and amuse- ments ; " boolin'," quoits, coursing with. his " long-tails " (greyhounds), whippet-racing, pigeon-flying, shooting matches and so on occupy his leisure.

There is something of the Gascon in the Northumbrian pitman, a touch of " Percy Hotspur " in his self-sufficiency and in his readiness to back himself at his favourite sport against anybody in the world, as challenges in the local newspapers testify.

- Concerning his ingrained love of sport there are innumerable stories. ' The following thrice-told tale well illustrates this. The Padre was consoling a pitman as he lay dying, and was apparently not making much impression till he came to the prospect of aviation in the next world. Then the eyes of the invalid lit up with a sudden flash : " An' wilt tha hey wings tee, up above in Heaven ? " he enquired eagerly. " Well, ye-es, I think so, I hope so," replied the Padre, a little taken aback. " Wey, then, A-al flee thee for a sovereign," came the instant challenge from the sufferer.

His hard daily toil, from which danger can never be entirely averted, down in the dark depths of the earth makes the pitman as alert, resolute and brave a fellow as can be found anywhere in the world. A great self- reliance is born of this—a touch of swagger—and as a consequence anything approaching well-meaning advice or patronage, even episcopal, even from the successors of St. Cuthbert, is fiercely resented. A late northern Canon used to tell, with a chuckle, the following tale. A pitman having been reproved or " dealt with " by his Methodist Minister for some small peccadillo was not seen at the Chapel thereafter, and when questioned concerning his absence by the Minister, thus retorted : " Aa's dyen wiv religion, an' Aa's gannin' to join the Chorch ! " At the same time, however, " Geordie " is one of the most loyal, hearty, warm-hearted men alive, as responsive to any genuine sympathy and interest as anyone in the world.

The writer remembers, years ago, when crossing over Framwellgate Bridge in Durham on his way to attend the Gala of the Durham Miners' Association, falling into talk with a fine, upstanding young pitman, who at once invited him into the neighbouring " public " " to hey a drink." When he somewhat ingloriously evaded this generous offer on the score of indigestion, the pitman • replied "Indigessun ! Wey, Aa cud digest a pavin' stone," pointing to cobbles on the street.

A pit is not, and cannot be, a beautiful object in the landscape, yet it has an abiding fascination, for here man is at grips with Mother-Earth at her hardest and most dangerous aspect. Incessant activity reigns in and about and below the heapstead. Locomotives whistle, the boilers thrust out clouds of steam ; the wheels overhead revolve, and up with a rush and clangour come the full tubs which are at once wheeled over the reverberating iron floors and tilted with a crash into the jostling screens. Down below, fathoms deep in the bowels of the earth, the hewers ply the groaning drills of compressed air, nick and carve the seam of coal, then fire " the shot " and bring down the " top." In the engine-room you can hear the continual rush of water and the purring of the electric pumps which stop not night or day if the pit be a " wet " one. Incessant is the activity, never-ceasing the possibility of accident, and one doubts if one were a pitman whether one could ever love the " Colliree," or the " a.ad pit " as a sailor loves his ship. As the late Mr. Skipsey—the North- umbrian " pitman poet " sang — " The stars are twinkling in the sky, As to the pit Igo ; I think not-of the sheen on high, But of the gloom below."

Indeed, there must ever be in the pitman's mind when he is awakened by the " caller up " the dread possibility as he leaves his cottage in the grey dawn that he may never see wife or bairns again.

To the strong, upstanding man of his hands, however, there will come a fine sense of achievement in difficulties encountered and overcome. I remember in the Seaton Delaval group of collieries, then looked after by the ex-Chief Inspector of Mines, a mighty figure of a man the Achilles or Heetor of the hewers. He was six feet high, and though seventy years of age could still hew an incredible tonnage of coals per shift. He was alive to his finger-tips ; he had, like most of us, not yet determined to follow Prince -Hal—" to purge and live cleanly " ; he could lay out a mast leg of mutton and a gallon of beer at a sitting ; he had " some follies " yet to get through, and still some " favorytes " amongst the women. A bearded figure, he might have been a descendant of the Vikings who formerly infested this coast. He was of their fearless type.

As to the dangers of the pit, they cannot be eliminated, From start to finish there is danger.

" Here's just a swatch of pitmen's life, Frae beim' breek'd till fit to marry ;

A scene o' ceaseless pain and strife,

Hatch'd by wor deadly foe, awd *Harry ! "

The " ceaseless pain and strife," one is glad to think, have been greatly mitigated since Thomas Wilson (of Gateshead) wrote his classic " The Pitman's Pay." As he himself said (he died in 1858) the conditions had been greatly improved even in his own day ; he himself had started as a putter boy early in that century " The youthful portion of a pitman's life in those days," he wrote in the preface, " was passed in the most galling slavery. Eighteen or nineteen hours a day, for weeks together, being spent in almost insupportable drudgery." Contrast this with the conditions now reigning in the latest and best colliery areas, where pitmen's houses are being built and furnished with electric light and bath- rooms, and where recreation grounds are being laid out for young and old alike. It is curious nowadays to reflect that there was a distinct prejudice against " washing," at least against " weshing the spine," for it was thought to take the " marrow cot of a man."

I remember a late Canon—senior classic and stroke of the Cambridge Eight—telling me how they had had a coach from Tyneside, when Tyneside produced the champion sculler of the world, who was horrified to discover his crew " tubbing " after a trial spin. " Weshin' yorselves ! " he cried in horror ; " Weshin' yorselves ! Wey, ye'll kill yorselves ! "

Now, what, it may be asked in conclusion, will the Royal Coal Commission be able to do ? Can it remedy the present deplorable condition of the industry ? One can at least say this, that its recommendations, whatever they prove to be, will carry great weight with the general public and should help to bring the Miners' Federation and the Owners' Association together to hammer out a mutually agreed scheme whereby a national industry can be saved from destruction. Ultimately, the present writer believes, when once the industry is re-established, salvation from strikes will be found in the men becoming shareholders in the collieries, so that they may be definitely interested in the pits, may attend the annual meetings and ask questions as to the various items in the balance-sheets, and be freed from that suspicion that nowadays more than anything else impedes co-opera- tion between employers and employees. Magna est apes et prevalebit.

• Not the managing director of the colliery, as a reader has suggested, but the " Old Enemy " of mankind.