MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 13 



Tyneside.* Then followed the sorrowful remem- 

 brances of those that were dead and gone. To 

 sigh over them was unavailing ; they had filled the 

 space allotted to them on this side of Time, and 

 the winds had blown over their silent graves for 

 ages past. The predictions that the mansions of 

 those that remained would soon, for want of heirs, 

 become desolate these and such like melancholy 

 reflections made a deep impression on my mind ; 

 and I have often since, with feelings of extreme 

 regret, beheld these mansions, once the seats of 

 hospitality, dilapidated, and the families which 

 occupied them now become extinct and forgotten. 



When the winter began somewhat to abate of its 

 rigours, or in the early spring, it was a common 

 job for me, before setting off to school, to rise 

 betimes in the morning, as indeed I was always 

 accustomed to do, and equipt with an apron, an 

 old dyking mitten, and a sharpened broken sickle, 

 to set off amongst the whin bushes, which were 

 near at hand, to cut off their last year's sprouts. 

 These were laid into a corner till the evening, when 

 I stript, and fell to work to "cree" them with a 

 wooden "mell," in a stone trough, till the tops of 

 the whins were beaten to the consistency of soft, 

 wet grass ; and, with this mess, I fed the horses 

 before I went to bed, or in the morning as occasion 

 might require. They were shy about eating this 

 kind of provender at first, and I was obliged to mix 

 oats with it; but they soon became so fond of it, 



[* There is a rare " Perspective View" of Dilston Hall, engraved 

 by Spilsbury, in 1766, from a drawing by Thomas Oliver, of 

 Hexham, under which is one of the "laments" referred to in the 

 text. The original copper plate, which had passed into Bewick's 

 possession, was sold at the Bewick sale of August, 1884.] 



