The Blacksmiths

Industrial noise pollution is nothing new, as can be attested by this poem by an unfortunate poet who seems to have lived next door to an armoury where blacksmiths toiled night and day. This is from a manuscript now at the British Museum, written about 1425-1450.

The Blacksmiths

Swarte smekyd sme(th)es smateryd wyth smoke
Dryve me to deth wyth den of here dyntes
Swech noys on nyghtes ne herd men neur:
What knaune cry and clateryng of knockes!
(Th)e cammede kongons cryen after 'col, col!'
And blowen here bellewys, (th)at al here brayn brestes;
'Huf, puf!' seith (th)at on; 'haf, paf' (th)at o(th)er.
(th)ei spyttyn and spraulyn and spellyn many spelles;
(th)ei gnauen and gnaccen, (th)ei gronys togydere,
And holdyn hem hote wyth here hard hamers.
Of a bole-hyde ben here barm-fellys;
Here schankes ben schakeled for the fere-flunderys;
Hevy hamerys (th)ei han, (th)at hard ben handled,
Stark strokes (th)ei stryken on a stelyd stokke:
Lus, bus! las, dad! rowtyn be rowe.
Swech dolful a dreme (th)e deuyl it dodryue!
(Th)e mayster longith a lityl, and lascheth a lesse,
Twyneth hem tweyn, and towchith a treble;
Tic, tak! hic, hac! tiket, taket! tyk, tak!
Lus, bus! lus, das! swych lyf thei ledyn
Alle clo(th)emerys; Cryst hem gyue sorwe!
May no man for brenwaterys on night han hys rest!