Cunningham

JOHN CUNNINGHAM (1729 - 1773)

Outside St John's church in Newcastle stands the table-tomb of John Cunningham, author of the play Love in a Mist (1747), something of a success in its day. He is described on the tomb as being a pastoral poet in this least pastoral of settings. Though of Scots-Irish extraction, he regarded Newcastle as his home, and after many wanderings as an indifferent actor, he came back to the city to write poetry and end his days. The tomb was erected by Thomas Slack, the bookseller and publisher of the Newcastle Chronicle, who had eventually taken the indigent poet into his house. Of Slack, Cunningham wrote:

His bounty proceeds from his heart,
'Tis principle prompts the supply;
His friendship exceeds my desert,
And often suppresses a sigh.

Thomas Bewick artfully overtook Cunningham in the street and managed to make a sketch of the ill-favoured bard shortly before the latter's death. Cunningham was clutching a herring in a handkerchief.

Though much of his poetry has a quiet charm, Cunningham can show enthusiasm (and an Irish accent) in 'Newcastle Beer', what Charleton calls 'the local nectar' the patronised by all classes in the town. The God of Revelry on Olympus celebrates Britain's success in war:

And freely declared there was choice of good cheer
yet vowed to his thinking,
For exquisite drinking,
Their nectar was nothing to Newcastle beer.

The poem concludes:

Your spirits it raises,
It cures your diseases -
There's freedom and health in our Newcastle beer

Myers Literary Guide:	The North-East
JOHN CUNNINGHAM (1729 - 1773) Outside St John's church in Newcastle stands the table-tomb of John Cunningham, author of the play Love in a Mist (1747), something of a success in its day. He is described on the tomb as being a pastoral poet in this least pastoral of settings. Though of Scots-Irish extraction, he regarded Newcastle as his home, and after many wanderings as an indifferent actor, he came back to the city to write poetry and end his days. The tomb was erected by Thomas Slack, the bookseller and publisher of the Newcastle Chronicle, who had eventually taken the indigent poet into his house. Of Slack, Cunningham wrote: His bounty proceeds from his heart, 'Tis principle prompts the supply; His friendship exceeds my desert, And often suppresses a sigh. Thomas Bewick artfully overtook Cunningham in the street and managed to make a sketch of the ill-favoured bard shortly before the latter's death. Cunningham was clutching a herring in a handkerchief. Though much of his poetry has a quiet charm, Cunningham can show enthusiasm (and an Irish accent) in 'Newcastle Beer', what Charleton calls 'the local nectar' the patronised by all classes in the town. The God of Revelry on Olympus celebrates Britain's success in war: And freely declared there was choice of good cheer yet vowed to his thinking, For exquisite drinking, Their nectar was nothing to Newcastle beer. The poem concludes: Your spirits it raises, It cures your diseases - There's freedom and health in our Newcastle beer
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