but he gradually added to them as he became more expert at shoe-mending, and afterwards at shoe-making.
Probably he was stimulated to take in hand this extra work by the attachment he had by this time formed for a young woman named Fanny Henderson, who officiated as servant in the small farmer’s house in which he lodged. We have been informed that the personal attractions of Fanny, though these were considerable, were the least of her charms. Mr. William Fairbairn, who afterwards saw her in her home at Willington Quay, describes her as a very comely woman. But her temper was one of the sweetest; and those who knew her were accustomed to speak of the charming modesty of her demeanour, her kindness of disposition, and withal her sound good sense.
Amongst his various mendings of old shoes at Callerton. George was on one occasion favoured with the shoes of his sweetheart to sole. One can imagine the pleasure with which he would linger over such a piece of work, and the pride with which he would execute it. A friend of his, still living, relates that, after he had finished the shoes, he carried them about with him in his pocket on the Sunday afternoon, and that from time to time he would pull them out and hold them up, exclaiming, “what a capital job he had made of them!”
Out of his earnings by shoe-mending at Callerton, George contrived to save his first guinea. The first guinea saved by a working man is no trivial thing. If, as in Stephenson’s case, it has been the result of prudent self-denial, of extra labour at bye-hours, and of the honest resolution to save and economise for worthy purposes, the first guinea saved is an earnest of better things. When Stephenson had saved this guinea he was not a little elated at the achievement, and expressed the opinion to a friend, who many years after reminded him of it, that he was “now a rich man.”
Not long after he began to work at Black Callerton as brakesman, he had a quarrel with a pitman named Ned Nelson, a roistering bully, who was the terror of the village. Nelson was a great fighter; and it was therefore considered dangerous to quarrel with him. Stephenson was so unfortunate as not to be able to please this pitman by the way in which he drew him out of the pit; and Nelson swore at him grossly because of the alleged clumsiness of his brakeing. George defended himself, and appealed to the testimony of the other workmen. But Nelson had not been accustomed to George’s style of self-assertion; and, after a great deal of abuse, he threatened to kick the brakesman, who defied him to do so. Nelson ended by challenging Stephenson to a pitched battle; and the latter accepted the challenge, when a day was fixed on which the fight was to come off.
Great was the excitement at Black Callerton when it was known that George Stephenson had accepted Nelson’s challenge. Everybody said he would be killed. The villagers, the young men, and especially the boys of the place, with whom George was a great favourite, all wished that he might beat Nelson, but they scarcely dared to say so. They came about him while he was at work in the engine-house to inquire if it was really true that he was “goin to fight Nelson?” “Ay; never fear for me; I’ll fight him.” And fight him he did. For some days previous to the appointed day of battle, Nelson went entirely off work for the purpose of keeping himself fresh and strong, whereas Stephenson went on doing his daily work as usual, and appeared not in the least disconcerted by the prospect of the affair. So, on the evening appointed, after George had done his day’s labour, he went into the Dolly Pit Field, where his already exulting rival was ready to meet him. George stripped, and “went in” like a practised pugilist—though it was his first and last fight. After a few rounds, George’s wiry muscles and practised strength enabled him severely to punish his adversary, and to secure an easy victory.
This circumstance is related in illustration of Stephenson’s personal pluck and courage; and it was thoroughly characteristic of the man. He was no pugilist, and the very reverse of quarrelsome. But he would not be put down by the bully of the colliery, and he fought him. There his pugilism ended; they afterwards shook hands, and continued good friends. In after life, Stephenson’s mettle was often as hardly tried, though in a different way; and he did not fail to exhibit the same resolute courage in contending with the bullies of the railway world, as he showed in his encounter with Ned Nelson, the fighting pitman of Callerton.
CHAPTER III.
Engineman at Willington Quay and Killingworth.
George Stephenson had now acquired the character of an expert workman. He was diligent and observant while at work, and sober and studious when the day’s work was over. His friend Coe described him to the author as “a standing example of manly character.” On pay-Saturday afternoons, when the pitmen held their fortnightly holiday, occupying themselves chiefly in cock-fighting and dog-fighting in the adjoining fields, followed by adjournments to the “yel-house,” George was accustomed to take his engine to pieces, for the purpose of obtaining “insight,” and he cleaned all the parts and put the machine in thorough working order before leaving it.
In the evenings he improved himself in the arts of reading and writing, and occasionally took a turn at modelling. It was at Callerton, his son Robert informed us, that he began to try his hand at original invention; and for some time he applied his attention to a machine of the nature of an engine-brake, which reversed itself by its own action. But nothing came of the contrivance, and it was eventually thrown aside as useless. Yet not altogether so; for even the highest skill must undergo the inevitable discipline of experiment, and submit to the wholesome correction of occasional failure.
After working at Callerton for about two years, he received an offer to take charge of the engine on Willington Ballast Hill at an advanced wage. He determined to accept it, and at the same time to marry Fanny Henderson, and begin housekeeping on his own account. Though he was only twenty-one years old, he had contrived, by thrift, steadiness, and industry, to save as much money as enabled him to take a cottage-dwelling at Willington Quay, and furnish it in a humble but comfortable style for the reception of his bride.
Willington Quay lies on the north bank of the Tyne, about six miles below Newcastle. It consists of a line of houses straggling along the river-side; and high behind it towers up the huge mound of ballast emptied out of the ships which resort to the quay for their cargoes of coal for the London market. The ballast is thrown out of the ships’ holds into waggons laid alongside, which are run up to the summit of the Ballast Hill, and emptied out there. At the foot of the great mound of shot rubbish was the fixed engine of which George Stephenson acted as brakesman.
The cottage in which he took up his abode was a small two-storied dwelling, standing a little back from the quay with a bit of garden ground in front. [33] The Stephenson family occupied the upper room in the west end of the cottage. Close behind rose the Ballast Hill.
When the cottage dwelling had been made snug, and was ready for occupation, the marriage took place. It was celebrated in Newburn Church, on the 28th of November, 1802. After the ceremony, George, with his newly-wedded wife, proceeded to the house of his father at Jolly’s Close. The old man was now becoming infirm, and, though he still worked as an engine-fireman, contrived with difficulty “to keep his head above water.” When the visit had been paid, the bridal party set out for their new home at Willington Quay, whither they went in a manner quite common before travelling by railway came into use. Two farm horses, borrowed from a neighbouring farmer, were each provided with a saddle and pillion, and George having mounted one, his wife seated herself behind him, holding on by his waist. The bridesman and bridesmaid in like manner mounted the other horse; and in this wise the wedding party rode across the country, passing through the old streets of Newcastle, and then by Wallsend to Willington Quay—a ride of about fifteen
