 | The Ingoldsby Lyrics |  |
No. I.
[When goode Kynge Wyllyam ruled this lande]
The following curious old ballad is said to have been lately discovered by that erudite antiquary, Mr. John Britton, who assigns it to the twelfth century. As it is not to be found in the collections of either Percy, Ellis, or Ritson, we willingly give it a place:—
And was a worthie Kynge;
The Queene he one daye dyd commande
To attende a fayre Christ'nynge.
And make a mightie dinne;
Then who so ready as Lorde Holdernesse,
To let Kynge Wyllyam inne.
With Lordes and Ladyes tenne;
The Byschoppe is there with hys great bygge wygge,
The Clerke he sayeth Amenne.
And she spake on bended knee;
“Now Largesse! Largesse! our gracyous Queene,
I pray thy Majestie!”
And they kneelid on the grounde;
“Grammercy!” quoth our gracyous Queene,
“For thy mede here is Fiftie Pounde!”
And she laughed loud laughters three;
“Now God prosper longge our Noble Kynge,
And eke his gaye Ladye!”
The Mither, I trow, was shee!
“Now naye, now naye, thou olde fatte Nurse,
In sooth thys may not be.
And Susanne and Pollie, all fowr,
Servynge women of lowe degree,
Doe wayt within mye bower.
Be welle and trewly payde;
To Susanne tenne, and to Pollie but fyve,
For she is the Kytchen Mayde.
May well thy guerdon bee.”
“Now naye, now naye!” quoth that olde fatte Nurse,
“In sooth that may not bee!
I begged on my bended knee;
I wyll have alle—our gracyous Queene
Dyd frankly give it me!”
In fayth it shall notte be donne;
Our Lady forefend thou shouldest have alle,
And mye other fowr Maydens nonne!”
And a wrathful man was hee;
“Thys olde fatte Nurse is a Female Dogge,
And here she no more may be!”
And smakid her soundlie and welle;
One smacke on her cheeke, one smacke on her eare
And one smacke where I maye not telle.
“That ever I was borne!
The Devyll flie awaye with Lord Holdernesse,
And poke hym with his horne!
Who colde smyte mee on the hyppe,
And colde smacke the cheeke of a ladye,
When he mote have kissed her lyppe!
And all faytours fals and mene,
Who wolde take fyftie pounde from a pore a pore old Nurse,
And leave her bote fyfteene!”
From my researches in a scarce tract, entitled Hume's History of England, I conclude the monarch here alluded to is the celebrated William of Normandy, sometimes called William the Conqueror, who came over in the famous Spanish Armada, and killed Queen Elizabeth at the battle of Agincourt. His uncle, William the Second, who succeeded him, and was surnamed Roofus, from the beautiful ceiling he put up in Westminster Hall (see the Ramsbottom papers in the possession of Theodore, King of Corsica), was never married. William the Conqueror married the daughter of Caleb Baldwin, Earl of Flanders, the “gracyous Queene” here alluded to. J. B.
Mr. Harris Nicolas, in his‘Synopsis of the Peerage,’ assigns 1621 as the date of the first creation of this title. It became extinct in the person of Humphry Clinker, 15th Lord, killed by the savages in the island of Owhyhee, A.D. 1540. J.B.
Probably Thomas A'Becket, or Cardinal Wolsey, who both flourished in this King's reign; the former was afterwards Archbishop of York, and suffered death for stealing the crown out of the Record Office in the Tower of London. J.B.
The “Mither,” here mentioned, was, in all probability, the celebrated Anne Boleyn, wife of John Wilkes, fourth Earl of Holdernesse. The fate of this beautiful but unfortunate woman, who was hanged at Tyburn, in 1745, by order of the inhuman Jeffries, for aiding in the escape of King Charles the First after the Battle of Blenheim, is matter of history. For a minute account of her execution, see Augustine ‘De Civitate Dei,’ and the ‘New Bath Guide.’ J.B.
I can find no account of these “fowr maydens” in all my friend Mr. Cawthorne's most valuable circulating library. It is, however, not unlikely that the “Pollie” last mentioned was the daughter of Mr. Peachum, some time keeper of his Majesty's gaol of Newgate, and afterwards the wife of Macbeth, the notorious highwayman who robbed and murdered Banquo, Member for Corfe Castle, in the fourteenth century. There is, however, a trifling difficulty as regards dates. For her history, see Gray's tragedy of ‘The Beggar's Opera.’ J. B.
A truly Royal present, amounting to about three hundred and seventeen pounds, four shillings, and threepence halfpenny of our present money.
By the laws of chivalry, as contained in the Napoleon Code, it was a heavy offence for a knight to strike a female, and was usually punished, especially during the period of the crusade, by setting the criminal in the pillory. Sir Philip Sydney narrowly escaped this degradation at the siege of Acre. J.B.
An awful imprecation, not unsuited to the complexion and creed of the dark ages, which preceded the invention of gas-lights, when infernal agency was believed in by every one; the story of the devil's flying away with Doctor Foster is familiar to most, though there is some reason to doubt its authenticity. Romulus, king of Greece, and Matthew Hopkins, Archbishop of Paris, were said to have been similarly disposed of; also a tailor (name unknown), as is recorded in the old ballad of Chevy Chase:—
“And the devil flew away with the little tailor,And the broad cloth under his arm.” J.B.
| The Ingoldsby Lyrics | |