Penshaw or Painshaw

The view of Penshaw monument from Herrington country park

                                                                               Painshaw 1834

A chapelry is 3 miles N.E from Houghton. The living is a curacy, in the patronage of the rector of Houghton – Le – Spring, and in the incumbency of the rev Thomas Bowlby in the chapelry are the extensive coal works of the Marquess of Londonderry.

Penshaw 1894

"The village of Penshaw is about three miles north-by-east of Houghton-le-Spring, and "derives its name from the British Pen and the Saxon Shaw, a wood or thicket; thus Penshaw is the wooded hill." On the top of a lofty eminence, called Painshaw Hill, is a Grecian monument, erected to the memory of the late Right Hon. John Lambton, Earl of Durham, the foundation stone of which was laid on the 28th August 1844 by the Earl of Zetland. In the presence of 400 freemasons and 10,000 spectators. The monument measures 100 feet long; 53 feet wide and is 70feet tall, and the columns are 6 feet 6 inches in diameter. It was designed by  Messrs Green of Newcastle, and it was build by Mr. Pratt of Sunderland. The estimated cost of the erection was about £6000.

The Church of All Saints is a plain stone edifice, erected 1746, and consists of nave and chancel; the windows in the latter are of stained glass bearing representations of the Baptism, Resurrection, and Ascension, and were presented by Sir George Elliot in 1889, in memory of his brothers and son. The church contains sittings for about 450 persons. The living is a rectory in the gift of the Bishop of Manchester, gross value £430; Rev. James Moore, B.A. rector."

 Whellan, London, 1894 ...

The  legend of the Lambton worm is often mistaken to be of Penshaw hill , but it should be worm hill Fatfield a village on the banks of the river wear

The peeler and the goat - a traditional poem

Oh, the Penshaw peeler went one night
On duty and patrolling
He spied a goat upon the road
And took him for a-strolling

Bayonet fixed, he sallied forth
And he caught him by the wizzen
There swore out a mighty oath
He's send him off to prison

Have mercy, sir, the goat replied
And let me tell my story
I am no rogue, no ribbon man
No cockey, Whig, or Tory

 I'm innocent of any crime,
Of petty or high treason
For my tribe is active at this time
It is the mating season.

"Do not complain," the peeler said
But give your tongue a bridle
You're absent from your dwelling place,
Disorderly, and idle

 

Your hoary locks will not prevail
Nor your sublime oration
For the penal laws will you transport
On your own information

No penal laws have I transgressed
By deed or combination
It's true I have no place of rest,
No home, or habitation

But Penshaw is my dwelling place
Where I was bread and borne-o
I'm of an honest working race
That's all the trade I've learned-o

I wager, sir, that you are drunk
On whiskey, rum, and brandy
Or you wouldn't have such gallant spunk
To be so bold and manly

You readily would let me pass
If I had money handy
I'd take you to the parting glass
Its then I'd be the dandy

supplied by a visitor

 

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