On my first going to business, I had an opportunity of sometimes hearing musical concerts. My master belonged to a musical society; and, when I had any message to take to him, I was commonly invited to remain. The two sons of Charles Avison, the musical composer, belonged to this society, and Mr. Beilby and family were on terms of intimacy with them. I also occasionally heard the band at the theatre, but I cannot say I felt much pleasure in listening to them, and I well remember on one occasion of setting them aside. The late Mr. Dibden, who often called upon me, had some performance to exhibit at our theatre, and had quarrelled with the theatrical band on account of their exorbitant demands; and, in this dilemma, he expressed himself much disappointed, and knew not what to do. I told him I thought, if he would leave the matter to me, I could set all right; and I instantly applied to old Wm. Lamshaw, the Duke of Northumberland’s piper, to play at the theatre. I being well-acquainted with the old man, he readily assented. I then told my friend Dibden what I had done, and satisfied him as to the preference the audience would give to the piper. In this I was not mistaken; for all went well off, and everyone expressed both pleasure and surprise at the change.
Some time before the American war broke out, there had been a lack of musical performers in our streets, and in this interval, I used to engage John Peacock, our inimitable performer, to play on the Northumberland or small pipes; and with his old tunes, his lilts, his pauses, and his variations, I was always excessively pleased. At one time I was afraid that these old times, and this ancient instrument, might, from neglect of encouragement, get out of use, and I did everything in my power to prevent this, and to revive it, by urging Peacock to teach pupils to become masters of this kind of music; and I flatter myself that my efforts were not lost. I was afraid that the Northumberland family were beginning to feel indifferent, or to overlook these their ancient minstrels, who had for ages past been much esteemed, and kept in attendance by their forefathers. It was, however, with great pleasure I found that they had appointed William Cant,[24] a pupil of old William Lamshaw, to be piper to the Northumberland Regiment of Militia; and he kept up with great spirit and effect this department of their music while he remained in the regiment. Nor was the regiment behind in the other departments of music; for it was allowed by judges that their fifers and drummers were inferior to none in the kingdom. One man, in particular—John Bowman—it was asserted, was the best performer on the fife that was “known in the world.” Certain it is that every year for twenty-two years, he challenged the fifers of every regiment stationed in Newcastle, to a trial of skill on that instrument; but none of them could compete with him. He could draw out tones from it the most soft and graceful, as well as the most stunning and loud, such as the ear could not endure in a room, and which were only fit to be heard in the open air.