The Lost Children

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The Lost Children
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This song described an incident on 13th October,
1865, when two small boys aged seven and five,
accompanied by two small dogs, wandered away from
the White Hill over Langdon Beck Fell into
Weardale and lost their way in the fog. The dogs
returned home in the evening, but it was not
until the following day that searchers came upon
the bodies of the children. Sadly one of the
children had died, but the other ultimately
recovered.
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On the thirteenth of October, eighteen hundred
And sixty five, Oer all the hills of Weardale a
mist there did arrive. From the mountains into
the valleys thick fog it hung around. And the
heavy clouds were dropping rain and watering the
ground. That very day at the White Hill, when
winds were blowing cold A case the most heart
rending to you I will unfold Two lovely little
brothers away from home did stray. Not thinking
of the dangers that lay hidden their way. About
ten oclock that forenoon the boys they left
their home, Little thinking in the mountains that
night they had to roam But unconscious of all
dangers the boys engaged to play. And sporting
with the dogs and sheep - which led them far away.
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They then turned round in search of home, but
pitiful to tell, Instead of getting nearer home
they wandered near the fell, For lo the mist was
closing in, which did them both affright And
caused the little weary ones to spend a restless
night. On Ireshopes cold and mossy hills for
hours they had to roam, Bereft ogf every comfort
of their familiar home But on the bleak cold
mountainside, amid the drenching rain, Neath
Heavens open canopy that night they must
remain. The west winds blew and moaned around
and grazed on their ear. As the swelling brocks
still raged and tossed and dashed into the
west As the sun had hid his golden rays behind
the mountain brown, And through the sable clouds
there shone no star, nor full-orbed moon.
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But arm in arm, along they walked expecting still
to hear, The echo of a mothers voice, their
aching hearts to cheer,. But neither voice nor
footsteps in the distance could be heard, Save
the murmuring of the swelling brooks or croaking
of some bird. Oer hill and dale, through wet
and mud, theyre forced to struggle on, With
neither food, nor shelter, nor couch to rest
upon. But the green turf is their carpet on which
alone they dread, And behind some hedge or moss
brock their only damp cold bed. And Thomas said
I feel quite cold and my heart is beating
slow, And I feel the pangs of hunger with every
breath I draw, Then Henry clasped him in his
arms as side by side they lay. Till slowly in his
brothers arms he breathed his life away.
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Freed from its load of sin and death his spirit
now doth rise, Unheard by any human ear, nor seen
by mortal eye. But silently the angels wait their
summons to obey, Then swiftly on their shinning
wings they bear his soul away. Cold chilling
wind, rain rattling, hail, on him no more shall
light, No travels shall fatigue him more, nor
midnight hours affright. Since death has quenched
that vital spark that fluttered in his
breast, And like some bright celestial dove, his
spirit now doth rest. Still round the hills the
echo flies borne by the gentle breeze, And the
wind still moaned in weird tones and rustled in
the leaves. As oer the hills and through the
vales they sought the mountains round Till
finally beneath some hedge the little boys they
found.
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Close side by side their bodies lie clasped in
each others arms, Henry with his coat wrapped
round his brother, per chance to keep him
warm But through the silent hours of night his
soul from earth had fled, Yet closely in each
others arms lies the living with the
dead. While gazing on their lovely forms, still
stretched upon the ground, They gently raised
their little heads and Henry looked around. Quite
dull and dazed and stiff with cold he awoke as
from a dream, Pray tell me now the story through
and what it all does mean. They gently raised
them from the ground and bore them both away, The
one still struggling on with life, the other
lifeless clay. They bore them to their own loved
home, their ages five and seven, But theyre
parted now to meet no more until they meet again
in heaven
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The mother kissed that lifeless corpse, when in
the house it came, She said Death has cause us
to part, perhaps well meet again Where we no
more shall parted be, but all in love unite, We
shall the king of glory see and worship in His
sight.
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About the Collection This song is taken from a
book entitled 'Those boys of Bondgate ...
etc.'.'Those boys o' Bondgate' is in fact the
title of one of several lectures on the history
of the Darlington area and the Tees Valley to the
west, that make up this collection. The addresses
were given by Charles Percy Nicholson to the
Darlington and Teesdale Naturalists' Field Club
in the early 20th century and were republished in
this collection at the request of Nicholson's
son. One of these addresses is entitled
'Teesdale in ballad and song', and includes a
number of songs and poems from the area. Most of
the offerings are not written in dialect, but
nevertheless do reflect many aspects of life in
rural Teesside during the nineteenth century, and
form one of only a small number of surviving song
collections from this area.