John Pattison, 1870 - 1909. Born in Stanley, John was injured in the local coal mines and suffered severe spine injuries. For many years, he collected items of local history, and wrote many poems, some of them to music. His old hand written book was found in a skip at East Stanley. The lady who found it handed it to my old friend, Michael Bailey. He himself was in bad health at the time, so he allowed me to take out extracts of poems and notes. This old book has since disappeared, so I am pleased I was given the chance to at least salvage some of it.. The writing was difficult to read, but I managed to copy quite a lot. So as to make his work better known, I copied a few into a book which was then handed to Durham County Library Service who made up 6 hard back copies. The ref no is CO 1 56 30807 C2, and the inside cover number is 5630807 - 821
Stanley Poet John (Jack) Pattison. 1870 - 1909
John, was born in Scott's Houses in Stanley. The details I have of his family are as follows -
Pattison - John born Wagtail Cottages, Craghead 1843 father
" Mary " Robin Hood Public House 1852 mother
" John " Scotts Houses, Stanley 9.10.1870
" Annie " Joicey Square, Stanley 1872
" William " Horsley Cottages 1875
" Dora " " " 1877
" George " " " 1879
" Mary J " " " 1881
" James " " " 1883
" Joseph " East Street, East Stanley 1886
" Robert " " " " 1888
" Elizabeth " Front Street, East Stanley 1891
" Thomas " " " 1893
" Albert " " " 1895
John's father died of a stroke in 1914. His mother died of gallstones in 1911.
John died 13.2.1909 of spine injuries aged 38, the week of the Burns Pit Disaster. At the time of writing, June 1998, I was convinced this family were related to the Rodham family of Wagtail Tce, Craghead, who were directly related to Hilary Rodham Clinton, wife of the former President of The USA.
I dedicated the book from which these extracts were taken to my friend, the late Michael Bailey, who died as I was preparing the book. But for his illness, he would very probably have compiled the book himself. I am pleased to have done it on his behalf.
Jack Hair
The following poems were by John Pattison. Spelt as he wrote them. The first describes his illness up to his death.
Misfortune
When off the bourd for fourteen years
One finds he's out of date
It's precious small he sees or hears
His is an awful fate.
Just amagine being buried alive
By tons of falling stone
The result is a thousand and five
Times warse than broken bones.
The verdict is an injured spine
A life long miser(y)ee
No one knows when down the mine
Who next it is to be.
He cannot make a single move
Without someone's assistance
Oh would some power from above
Relieve such cruel existance.
Such is the case with scores of men
Misfortune has afflicted
Nine cases out of every ten
Have come quite unpredicted.
Kind friends we have, and friends we need
That give consideration
They chier us up by word and deed
On more than one occasion.
Yet, we long to take part
In sport and recreation
And long to test old natures art
The joy of all sensation
Although we wish, we wish in vain
For pleasures are denied
Then be content to sing to him
Abide with me, Abide.
Good luck to all unfortunate friends
My wish, it is sincere
That Each, a Merry Christmas spends
And a downright, Happy, New Year.
There was a horse racing course situated between
No Place and Bates Farm at Stanley Hilltop, John
wrote the following of that course
Pat at the Races
A certain Pat, he went to see the races
who hadn't much experience of the course
and when the many bookies took their places
he thought he'd try a shilling on a horse
The man he made the bet with started smudging
He says "your money's just as good as won"
just then the horses toed the mark for judging
then the horse that Pat backed caused some jolly fun
He laid his lugs alang his neck and farted
and shot out with his hind legs left and right
he gave a backward jump and then he started
to gallop round the field with all his might
He galloped half a mile and then collided
with a chap that said he had a train to get
he proved to be a bookie not provided
to pay the money if he lost the bet
A crowd soon gathered round to lend assistance
but fortunately the bookie was no worse
this while his pal was seeking the existance
off the wealth to relieve them of their purse
The jockey took the horse back mad with passion
and Patsy heavy backed him for a place
they put their money on in sportsman fashion
determined if they could to win the race
At the signal all but one got fairly started
and Pat's horse turned and flew back to his clais
for money and you said a friend I fear are parted
"Oh no" said Pat, "I have him backed both ways"
coming soon, "Beamish Jail"
watch this space.
More poems of John Pattison will be added on this page at regular intervals.