Above Howe Bridge Families coal picking during the 1893 strike
Below is the events of the February 4th 1881 Riots as told in verse by a very eloquent unknown Author.
Just before the Riot, Mother
I was thinking most of you, When the soldiers were upon us,
And the collieries in view,
Sticks and stones did fly in hundreds,
Round about the people's heads:
Through a window I was watching,
And I heard the Riot Act Read.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The next I saw was Crombouke Lamp place,
Stones went freely through the panes,
By the fireplace crouched two "knobsticks"
"Power" and "Billy" were their names.
"Nat" the lamp man, in a hurry,
Jump'd off his stool in such a fright,
Almost knocking "Power" over,
Getting somewhere out of sight.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The next I saw a group of 'firemen',
Standing on the Seven Feet brow,
Ready to be called for action,
Like bold Britions brace and true,
They were led on by a leader,
Who thought so much of all his men,
Warning then of all their danger',
That they did not care a pin.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The next I saw some Wigan colliers,
Running down the Lover's Lane,
Rushing on toward the colliery,
But the bobbies stopped their game.
Still they fought on with great vigour,
Yet the bobbies ran them down
With their sticks they showed no mercy
To the lads from Wigan Town.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The next I saw was one horse soldier
Run a man into a field,
But the collier stopped and yielded,
As he saw the sworkd did gleam.
He fell upon his knees and praying,
Thinking his last hour had come,
But the soldier drew sword from him
Left him there to weep and moan.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The next I saw the soldiers marching
Through the village, warning men
To clear the streets out of all danger,
Not to start the riot again,
Women ran in all directions,
Like the fairies in the show
Seeking sons and husbands treasured,
And not knowing where to go,
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The next I saw was one poor woman
Looking for her darling boy
She was in tears, and ran bewildered,
Thinking that her son should die,
He had gone to work that morning,
Down into the dusty mine,
For to earn an honest living,
Where the sun can never shine.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
The last I saw was Clough, the blacksmith,
Going to work, in such a fright,
Thinking if the masters wanted
He must go and join the fight
They knew he was a man of science,
Ready for to face the foe.
If the 'mob' would not surrender,
He would strike his double blow.
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
"Howebridge Riot" is now over:
Men have started work again.
And the masters will protect them,
If they stand to them like men.
They have had no cause to tarry
From their work in such a way.
The masters gave then that they asked for,
And also promised"weekly pay".
CHORUS
Farewell, Mother you may never
See your darling sons again.
If they tarry here much longer,
They will die in fearful pain.
From an original copy much treasured by Bessie Clough, late of this parish.
