[THIS excellent old ballad is transcribed from a copy printed in Aldermary church-yard. It still continues to be published in the old broadside form.]
Of a rich counsellor I write, Who had one only daughter, Who was of youthful beauty bright;Now mark what follows after.
Her uncle left her, I declare, A sumptuous large possession;Her father he was to take care Of her at his discretion.
She had ten thousand pounds a-year, And gold and silver ready, And courted was by many a peer, Yet none could gain this lady.
At length a squire's youngest son In private came a-wooing, And when he had her favour won, He feared his utter ruin.
The youthful lady straightway cried, 'I must confess I love thee, Though lords and knights I have denied, Yet none I prize above thee:
Thou art a jewel in my eye, But here,' said she, 'the care is, -I fear you will be doomed to die For stealing of an heiress.'
The young man he replied to her Like a true politician;'Thy father is a counsellor, I'll tell him my condition.
Ten guineas they shall be his fee, He'll think it is some stranger;Thus for the gold he'll counsel me, And keep me safe from danger.'
Unto her father he did go, The very next day after;But did not let the lawyer know The lady was his daughter.
Now when the lawyer saw the gold That he should be she gainer, A pleasant trick to him he told With safety to obtain her.
'Let her provide a horse,' he cried, 'And take you up behind her;Then with you to some parson ride Before her parents find her:
That she steals you, you may complain, And so avoid their fury.
Now this is law I will maintain Before or judge or jury.
'Now take my writing and my seal, Which I cannot deny thee, And if you any trouble feel, In court I will stand by thee.'
'I give you thanks,' the young man cried, 'By you I am befriended, And to your house I'll bring my bride After the work is ended.'
Next morning, ere the day did break, This news to her he carried;She did her father's counsel take And they were fairly married, And now they felt but ill at case, And, doubts and fears expressing, They home returned, and on their knees They asked their father's blessing, But when he had beheld them both, He seemed like one distracted, And vowed to be revenged on oath For what they now had acted.
With that bespoke his new-made son -
'There can be no deceiving, That this is law which we have done Here is your hand and sealing!'
The counsellor did then reply, Was ever man so fitted;'My hand and seal I can't deny, By you I am outwitted.
'Ten thousand pounds a-year in store 'She was left by my brother, And when I die there will be more, For child I have no other.
'She might have had a lord or knight, From royal loins descended;But, since thou art her heart's delight, I will not be offended;'If I the gordian knot should part, 'Twere cruel out of measure;Enjoy thy love, with all my heart, In plenty, peace, and pleasure.'
Ballad: THE DEATH OF QUEEN JANE. (TRADITIONAL.)[WE have seen an old printed copy of this ballad, which was written probably about the date of the event it records, 1537. Our version was taken down from the singing of a young gipsy girl, to whom it had descended orally through two generations. She could not recollect the whole of it. In Miss Strickland's LIVES OF THEQUEENS OF ENGLAND, we find the following passage: 'An English ballad is extant, which, dwelling on the elaborate mourning of Queen Jane's ladies, informs the world, in a line of pure bathos, In black were her ladies, and black were their faces.'
Miss Strickland does not appear to have seen the ballad to which she refers; and as we are not aware of the existence of any other ballad on the subject, we presume that her line of 'pure bathos' is merely a corruption of one of the ensuing verses.]
QUEEN JANE was in travail For six weeks or more, Till the women grew tired, And fain would give o'er.
'O women! O women!
Good wives if ye be, Go, send for King Henrie, And bring him to me.'
King Henrie was sent for, He came with all speed, In a gownd of green velvet From heel to the head.
'King Henrie! King Henrie!
If kind Henrie you be, Send for a surgeon, And bring him to me.'
The surgeon was sent for, He came with all speed, In a gownd of black velvet From heel to the head.
He gave her rich caudle, But the death-sleep slept she.
Then her right side was opened, And the babe was set free.
The babe it was christened, And put out and nursed, While the royal Queen Jane She lay cold in the dust.
* * * * *
So black was the mourning, And white were the wands, Yellow, yellow the torches, They bore in their hands.
The bells they were muffled, And mournful did play, While the royal Queen Jane She lay cold in the clay.
Six knights and six lords Bore her corpse through the grounds;Six dukes followed after, In black mourning gownds.
The flower of Old England Was laid in cold clay, Whilst the royal King Henrie Came weeping away.
Ballad: THE WANDERING YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN; OR, CATSKIN.
[THE following version of this ancient English ballad has been collated with three copies. In some editions it is called CATSKIN'S GARLAND; OR, THE WANDERING YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN. The story has a close similarity to that of CINDERELLA, and is supposed to be of oriental origin. Several versions of it are current in Scandinavia, Germany, Italy, Poland, and Wales. For some account of it see PICTORIAL BOOK OF BALLADS, ii. 153, edited by Mr. J. S.
Moore.]
PART 1.
YOU fathers and mothers, and children also, Draw near unto me, and soon you shall know The sense of my ditty, and I dare to say, The like's not been heard of this many a day.
The subject which to you I am to relate, It is of a young squire of vast estate;The first dear infant his wife did him bear, It was a young daughter of beauty most rare.
He said to his wife, 'Had this child been a boy, 'Twould have pleased me better, and increased my joy, If the next be the same sort, I declare, Of what I'm possessed it shall have no share.'
