THE SLEDMERE POACHERS.[258]

AS we march'd down to Scarbro' on the fourteenth of June,The weather it was warm, and the soldiers in full bloom;There it was my good fortune to meet my dearest dear,For my heart was stole away by colonel Thompson's volunteer.My father and my mother confined me in my room,When I jump'd out of the window, and ran into the town,Where it was my good fortune, to meet my dearest dear,The man that stole my heart was colonel Thompson's volunteer.Then in came George Etherington all with his bugle horn,He said he'd seen the prettiest girl that ever sun shone on,Her cheeks they were like roses, she is beautiful and fair,And she says she'll march with none but colonel Thompson's volunteer.Then in came captain Carter, and unto them did say,That he had seen the prettiest girl, of any there to-day,Her eyes were black as jet, and her hair it hung so tight,And she says she'll march with none but colonel Thompson's men this night.Our officers are loyal, they are men of courage bold,Their clothing is of scarlet and turned up with gold,It's I could wash the linen to please my dearest dear,When I was in the field with colonel Thompson's volunteer.Our ladies they love music, our captain gives command,They play the prettiest marches of all the royal bands,They play the sweetest music that ever my ears did hear,For my heart was stole away by colonel Thompson's volunteer.I'll bid adieu to father, likewise to mother too,I'll never forsake my soldier but unto him prove true,And I'll range the country over with the lad that I love dear,Since I'm bound in wedlock's bonds to colonel Thompson's volunteer.THE SLEDMERE POACHERS.[258]COME, all you gallant poaching lads, and gan alang with me,And let's away to Sledmere woods, some game for to see;It's far and near, and what they say it's more to feel than see,So come, my gallant poaching lads, and gan alang with me.Chorus.We are all brave poaching lads, our names we dare not tell,And if we meet the keeper, boys, we'll make his head to swell.On the fifth of November last, it being a star-light night,The time it was appointed, boys, that we were all to meet,When at twelve o'clock at midnight, boys, we all did fire a gun,And soon, my lads, it's we did hear, old hares begin to run.We have a dog, they call him Sharp, he Sledmere woods did stray,The keeper he fell in with him and fain would him betray;He fired two barrels at the dog, intending him to kill,But by his strength and speed of foot he tript across the hill.All on one side and both his thighs he wounded him full sore,Before we reached home that night with blood was covered o'er;On recovering of his strength again, revenged for evermore,There's never a hare shall him escape that runs on Sledmere shore.We have a lad, they call him Jim, he's lame on all one leg,Soon as the gun is shoulder'd up, his leg begins to wag;When the gun presented fire, and the bird came tumbling down,This lad he kick'd him with his club before he reached the ground.So as we as march'd up Burlington road, we loaded every gun,Saying if we meet a keeper bold we'll make him for to run,For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,But if we meet a keeper bold we'll make his head to swell.We landed into Cherry woods; we went straight up the walk;We peak'd the pheasants in the trees, so softly we did talk;We mark'd all out, what we did see, till we return'd again,For we were going to Colleywoodbro' to fetch away the game.Come, all you gallant poaching lads, if I must have my will,Before we try to shoot this night let's try some hares to kill;For shooting, you very well know, it makes terrible sound,So if we shoot before we hunt we shall disturb the ground.We landed into Suddaby fields, to set we did begin,Our dog he was so restless there, we scarce could keep him in;But when our dog we did let loose, 'tis true they call him Watch,And before we left that ground that night he fifteen hares did catch.So it's eight cock-pheasants and five hens, all these we marked right well,We never fired gun that night but down a pheasant fell.You gentlemen wanting pheasants, unto me you must apply,Both hares and pheasants you shall have, and them right speedily.So now, my lads, it's we'll gan yam, we'll take the nearest way,And if we meet a keeper bold his body we will bray;For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,But if we meet a keeper bold his head we'll make to swell.So come, you poaching lads, who love to hunt the game,And let us fix a time when we will meet again;For at Colleywoodbro' there's plenty of game, but we'll gan no more,The next port shall be Kirby Hill where hares do run by scores.THE YORKSHIRE CONCERT.[259]I'ZE a Yorkshireman just come to town,And my coming to town was a gay day,For fortune has here set me downWaiting gentleman to a fine lady.My lady gives galas and routs,And her treats of the town are the talks here;But nothing i'ze seen thereabouts,Equal one that was given in Yorkshire.Rum ti iddity iddity, rum ti iddity ido,Rum ti iddity iddity, fal de ral, lal de ral lido.Johnny Fig was a white and green grocer,In business as brisk as an eel, sir,None than John in the shop could stick closer,But his wife thought it quite ungenteel, sir.Her neighbours resolv'd to cut out, sir,And astonish the rustic parishioners;She invited them all to a rout sir,And ax'd all the village musicioners.Rum ti, &c.The company met gay as larks, sir,Drawn forth all as fine as blown roses;The concert commenc'd with the clark, sir,Who chanted the Vicar and Moses;The barber sung Gallery of Wigs, sir,The gentlemen all said 'twas the dandy;And the ladies encor'd Johnny Fig, sir,Who volunteer'd Drops of Brandy.Rum ti, &c.The baker he sung a good batch,While the lawyer for harmony willing,While the bailiff he join'd in the catch,And the notes of the butcher were killing;The wheelwright he put in his spoke,The schoolmaster flogg'd on with fury;The coachman he play'd the Black Joke,And the fish-woman sung a Bravura.Rum ti, &c.To strike the assembly with wonder,Madam Fig scream'd a song loud as Boreas,Soon wak'd farmer Thrasher's dog Thunder,Who starting up, joined in the chorus;While a donkey the melody marking,Chim'd in too, which made a wag say, sir,"Attend to the rector of Barking'sDuet with the vicar of Bray, sir."Rum ti, &c.A brine tub half full of beef, salted,Madam Fig had trick'd out for a seat, sir,Where the taylor to sing was exalted,But the cov'ring crack'd under his feet, sir;Snip was sous'd in the brine, but, soon rising,Bawl'd out, while they laugh'd at his grief, sir,"Is it a matter so monstrous surprising,To see pickled cabbage with beef, sir?"Rum ti, &c.Then a ball after the concert gave way,And for dancing no souls could be riper,So struck up the Devil to Pay,While Johnny Fig paid the piper;But the best thing came after the ball,For finish the whole with perfection,Madam Fig ax'd the gentlefolks allTo sup on a cold collation.Rum ti, &c.THE SOLDIER IN YORKSHIRE.THERE was a jolly soldier down into Yorkshire went,And for to court a pretty girl was his whole intent;He courted her, and told her he lov'd her as his life,Poor girl, she little thought he had another wife.He courted her six months, with behaviour mild and kind;Her friends and relations did like him, so we find;He said, "My dearest Peggy, I love you as my life,And if your friends are willing, you shall be my wife."Her father and her mother they both did agree,That joined in wedlock this couple should be;I, like a silly girl, consented to the same,I thought to have a husband none could me blame.The time being come, they both of them were wed,So lovingly together, as many people said,But early the next morning my heart was like to break,To hear the dismal story to me he did relate."Farewell, my dearest Peggy, it cuts me to the heart,For I do love you dearly, to think that we must part;I rue what I have done, my love, for me pray don't moan,I have got a loving wife and children at home."With that the poor girl she screamed outright,"So hard is my fortune, I am ruined quite;I am married to a false man that's got another wife;I shall have no other comfort or joy of my life."Then raving distracted, she ran and tore her hair,Since she must part with him, she fell into despair.Her mother, she laments, and her father full of woe,"I'm sorry I gave consent to ruin my daughter so."The soldier he went home unto his loving wife;Thinking she might hear of this, bethought to end the strife,Saying, "I'm married to another, to tell you I'm loath.""You villain," said she, "you have ruin'd us both."The wife took it to heart, she bade the world adieu,To think he lov'd another, and prov'd to her untrue;Now he is forsaken, and thus doth sigh and mourn,"Not long ago I had two wives, but now, alas! I've none."Come all you brave young soldiers, a warning take by me,And ne'er delude young women and bring to misery;Think on your wife and children, and ne'er defile the bed,And never wed the second wife, until the first is dead.AW NIVIR CAN CALL HUR MY WIFE.[260]By the Author of "Natterin Nan," etc.Tune, "Come Whoam to thi Childer an Me."AW'M a weyver ya knaw, an awf deead,So aw du all at iver aw canTa put away aat o' my heeadThe thowts an the aims of a man!Eight shillin a wick's whot aw arn,When aw've varry gooid wark an full time,An aw think it a sorry consarnFur a hearty young chap in his prime!But ar maister says things is as wellAs they hae been, ur ivir can be;An aw happen sud think soa mysel,If he'd nobud swop places wi me;But he's welcome ta all he can get,Aw begrudge him o' noan o' his brass,An aw'm nowt bud a madlin ta fret,Ur ta dream o' yond bewtiful lass!Aw nivir can call hur my wife,My love aw sal nivir mak knawn,Yit the sorra that darkens hur lifeThraws a shadda across o' my awn;An aw'm suar when hur heart is at eeas,Thear is sunshine an singin i' mine,An misfortunes may come as they pleeas,Bud they nivir can mak ma repine.That Chartist wur nowt bud a sloap,Aw wur fooild be his speeches an rhymes,His promises wattered my hoap,An aw leng'd fur his sunshiny times;But aw feel 'at my dearist desireIs withrin within ma away,Like an ivy-stem trailin' it mire,An deein' fur t' want of a stay!When aw laid i' my bed day an neet,An wur geen up by t'doctur fur deead—God bless hur—shoo'd come wi' a leetAn a basin o' grewil an breead;An aw once thowt aw'd aht wi' it all,Bud sa kindly shoo chattud an smiled,Aw wur fain tu turn ovvur ta t'wall,An ta bluther an sob like a child!An aw said as aw thowt of her een,Each breeter fur't tear at wur in't;It's a sin ta be nivir furgeenTa yoke hur ta famine an stint;So aw'l e'en travel forrud thru life,Like a man thru a desert unknawn,Aw mun ne'er hev a hoam an a wife,Bud my sorras will all be my awn!Soa aw' trudge on aloan as aw owt,An whativir my troubles may be,They'll be sweetened, my lass, wi' the thowtThat aw've nivir browt trouble ta thee;Yit a burd hes its young uns ta guard,A wild beast, a mate in his den;An aw cannot but think that its hard—Nay, deng it, aw'm roarin agen!A GLOSSARY.AAOT,out.Aar,our.Abaht, aboot,about.Addled,earned.Afoor,before.Agean,against.Ah,I.Ahle,I'll.Aht,out.Ands,and has.Anen, anenst,nearoragainst.Arn,to earn.Ast,asked.Asta,have you.Aw,I.Awd, auld,old.Awf,half.Awlus, aulas,always.Awn,own.Baan,bone.Bairns,children.Baith,both.Bane,near to.Baon,going.Barn,a child.Be, bi,by.Behawfe,by half.Beng-up,showy.Berrid,buried.Bide,bear.Bods, burds,birds.Brack,broke.Breet,bright.Brewt,brute.Bud,but.Capped,surprised.Cawd,cold.Cleas,clothes.Coil,coal.Cos,because.Cud,could.Dahnreyt,downright.Daht,doubt.Daz,to stupify.Deant,do not.Dee,to die.Deeane,done.Dew,to do.Diddle,to cheat.Ding,to throw.Don't,put it on.Draand,drowned.Du,do.Dun,done.Elpin,helping.Ev,have.Fahve,five.Farden,farthing.Feeal,fool.Fettle,to put in order, prepare.Fiahne,fine.Fick,to struggle.Fitterd,fluttered.Fleead,flayed.Fleear,the floor.Fleg,a flag.Flick,flitch.Freetened,frightened.Gaon,gone.Getten, gitten,has got.Gi, gie,give.Gimma,give me.Gloare,to stare, look earnestly.Goas, gooas,goes.Goom,the gum.Haa,how.Haase, haaos,house.Hah,how.Heead,the head.Het,have it.His-selorhis sen,himself.Hod,to hold.Intul,into.Issant,is not.Ista,art thou,are you.Ith,in the.Ivven,even.Ivver,ever.Ize,I am.Izzent,is not.Kahnd,kind.Karkiss,the body.Lair,a barn.Leeght, leet,light.Lig,to lie down.Lin,linen.Loase,to loose.Lug,the ear, alsoto pull.Luke,to look.Ma,me.Mah,my.Mebby,perhaps.Meeast,most.Meenleet,moonlight.Mesen, mysen,myself.Mesht,bruised.Minnits,minutes.Mitch,much.Monny,many.Mud,might.Mun,must.Nah,now.Nattry,bad tempered.Neetorneeght,night.Neiv,the hand.Nivvir,never.Noa, noan,no, none.Noas,the nose.Nobbut,only.Nont,nothing.Nowt,nothing.Nubdy,nobody.Oth,on the.Ovvur,over.Owlus,always.Owt,ought.Pratly,partly.Rade,rode.Raff,low company.Raond,round.Sark, shark,a shirt, (but at page 271, it evidently means a surplice).Sarten,certain.Seean,soon.Seeat,soot.Seeghts,sights.Seet,see it.Sell,self.Sen,since.Shap,shape.Shauted, shaated,shouted.Shoo,she.Shraad,a shroud.Shutterd,slippedordropped out.Sin,since.Sitch,such.Slap-shod,loosely shod.Sloap,a cheat.Smoak,suspect.Sneck,a latch of a door.Sooin,soon.Sope,a sup, drop.Sorra,sorrow.Sowl,soul.Spanking,quite new, stylish.Spenisjuce,spanish juice.Steven,to speak loud.Storance,stirrings.Suddent,should not.Sum,some.Sumhah,somehow.Sune,soon.Swillin,washing out.Swop,to exchange.Ta,to.Taon,town.Teak,took.Teea,to.Teern,to turn.Teld,told.Tem'd,poured.Tengin,stinging.Tengs,tongs.Tew,trouble, to crumple.Tha,they, thou.Thall, tharl,thou wilt.Thart,thou art.Thel,they will.Tiv,to.Toth,to the.Towd,the old.Trigg'd,filled.Tu,too.Tull,to.Tummle,to fall.Tussell,to struggle.'Twad,it would.T'warst,the worst.Twea,two.'Twor,it was.Ud,would.Ur,or.Uther,the other.Wad,would.Wah, whar,where, who.Wake, waik,weak.War,were.Wark,to ache, to work.Warse,worse.Weame,the belly.Weea,who.Weel, weal,well.Weent,will not.Wee'se,we shall.Wer,were.Weshin,washing.Whahl,while.Whewin,whistling, blowing.Whoame,home.Whoor,where.Wick,alive.Withaht,without.Witta,wilt thou.Woddunt,would not.Wolivver (while ever),so long as.Wor,was.Wor'nt,was not.Worrit,tease by complaining.Wo't,who it.Wots,oats.Wur,our, were.Wursen,ourselves.Wurt,was the.Ya,you.Yah,one.Yal,whole, ale.Yam,home.Yan,one.Yance,once.Y'are,you are.Yat,hot, a gate.Yatton,the village of Ayton, commonly called "canny Yatton."Yol,you will.Yor,your.Yo've,you have.Recently published, 8vo. with Illustrations, cloth, price 15s. Large paper, half bound, £1 5s.THE HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES OFNORTH ALLERTONIN THE COUNTY OF YORK.BY C. J. DAVISON INGLEDEW,OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE.Opinions of the Press."Here a stranger may take up his abode in a single town, and study under a skilful master the story of its career and the details of its progress in good or bad fortune."—Athenæum."The public and private history of North Allerton, its antiquities, public buildings, registers, folk-lore, are duly recorded in a way to gratify its inhabitants, and the curiosity of all who are interested in the history of this ancient town."—Notes and Queries."The author evinces great research, and presents to the reader much valuable historical and antiquarian information."—Yorkshire Gazette."Though professedly a local history, this work is rich in the records of national events."—Leeds Intelligencer."A book which will not only be interesting to all the inhabitants of the North Riding, but must also prove very helpful to any future historian of England."—Leeds Mercury."Possesses the high merit of being a book for interesting and delightful perusal by any reader."—Newcastle Journal."Full of anecdote, story, and song—manners and customs—folklore and family history."—Gateshead Observer."To archæological study generally it is no inconsiderable contribution."—Clerical Journal."A great addition to the explorist, as well as to the advanced historical scholar, and is as completely interesting as it is useful."Military Spectator.LONDON:—BELL AND DALDY, 186, FLEET STREET.FOOTNOTES:[1]The famousReafen, or enchanted standard, in which the Danes put great confidence. It contained the figure of a raven, which had been inwoven, by the three sisters of Hinguar and Hubba, with many magical incantations, and which, by its different movements, prognosticated, as the Danes believed, the good or bad success of any enterprise.[2]The sky.[3]Eldest son of Gilbert de Gant, nephew to William, duke of Normandy. Walter was a person of great humanity and piety; who, when advanced in years, and near his death, commanded a regiment of Flemings and Normans in this engagement. He founded the priory of Bridlington, and added buildings to the abbey of Bardney, which his father had restored. He married Maud, daughter of Stephen, earl of Brittany and Richmond, had with her all Swaledale, in Frank-marriage; and died, fourth Stephen, leaving issue three sons, Gilbert, who succeeded him, Robert, and Geoffrey.[4]William le Gros, chief of those gallant barons at the engagement; and in reward for the great valour displayed by him on that occasion was forthwith advanced to the earldom of Yorkshire. He was distinguished among the Anglo-Norman barons for his liberality towards the various religious orders, having founded a Cistercian abbey at Edenham, in Lincolnshire, and one at Meux in Yorkshire, not far from his castle of Skipsey; a monastery of black canons at Thornton-upon-Humber; and a hospital at Newton. He was also the founder of the castle of Scarborough. He died in 1179, leaving two daughters, his co-heirs. Hawyse, married first to William de Mandeville, earl of Essex, secondly to William de Fortibus; and Amicia, married to Eston.[5]Robert de Brus, son of Robert who came over with the Conqueror, by Agnes his wife, daughter of Waltheg, earl of St. Clair. He had an interview with David, king of Scotland, before the battle, to endeavour to persuade him to desist. He was no less distinguished for piety than valour. He founded Guisborough priory; gave the church of Middlesborough to Whitby; and conferred on the abbey of St Mary, at York, his lordships of Appleton and Hornby. He died in 1141, and was buried at Guisborough; leaving issue, by Agnes his wife, Adam and Robert.Adam de Brus, lord of Skelton, son and heir of the above, who fought by the side of his father in this engagement. Having adhered to king Stephen throughout his stormy and disastrous career, he incurred the displeasure of Henry II. who deprived him of his castle of Danby in Cleveland. He died in 1167, and was buried at Guisborough, leaving issue, by Ivetta, his wife, Adam, commonly called Adam the Second, and Agnes.[6]Lord of Helmsley and Kirkham, and one of the principal commanders in this battle; and, although this is the only battle we find him engaged in, his address to the soldiers shows him a man of valour in defence of his country. He founded the abbey of Rievaulx and Kirkham; and died in 1153, and was buried in the abbey of Rievaulx, where two years before he had become a monk.[7]Son of Nigel de Albini, who assumed the name of Mowbray. He was one of the commanders in this battle, though then in minority; and, adhering to king Stephen, was with him at the battle of Lincoln, and there taken prisoner. He was a benefactor to no fewer than thirty-five religious houses, and founded the abbey of Byland, and the priory of Newburgh, in the neighbourhood of his castle at Thirsk. So fervent was his devotion that he twice took upon him the cross, and made journeys to the Holy Land, and upon his return retired to the calm seclusion of Byland abbey, where he assumed the monastic habit, and ended his days; leaving, by his wife Alice de Gant, two sons, Nigel and Robert.[8]Thurstan, the twenty-eighth archbishop of York, and who was at this period Lieutenant-Governor of the North, organized the troops that fought this famous battle, and had the command as far as Thirsk, at which place he resigned, on account of sickness, his authority to Ralph, bishop of Orkney, of whom little is known. The archbishop of York used to ordain bishops with the title of Orkney; but Torffæus is of opinion that they were merely titulars, to give greater show of authority to the see of York; and he is positive that this bishop did never reside in the isles of Orkney, and that Ralph, designated bishop of Orkney, had been a presbyter of York.[9]The following were among the "valiante chiefetaynes:"—Bernard de Baliol, nephew to Guy de Baliol. After this battle he adhered to Stephen, and was taken prisoner with him at the battle of Lincoln. He is supposed to be the founder of the castle thence called Bernard castle; was a benefactor to the monks of St. Mary's Abbey, York, and those of Rievaulx.Richard de Curcy, represented by Hugustald as a valiant commander in this battle. He was succeeded by William de Curcy, sewer to king Henry II.Robert de Ferrars, youngest son of Henry de Ferrers, by Berta his wife. He commanded the Derbyshire men in this battle, and for his bravery was forthwith advanced to the earldom of Derby, which honour he did not long enjoy, dying the following year, 1139, leaving Robert second earl.William Fossard, son of Robert, was taken prisoner with Stephen at the battle of Lincoln. He left issue Joane, married to Robert de Turnham.Ralph Hanselyn, descended from Goisfrid Alselin. He commanded the Nottinghamshire men in this battle, and resided principally at Shelford in that county. He left issue Rose, married to Thomas Bardulf.Ilbert de Lacy, lord of Pontefract. He married Alice, daughter of Gilbert de Gant, and dying without issue, Henry his brother succeeded him.Gilbert de Lacy, brother of the above. Hemingford and other historians inform us that he was the only knight slain.William Peverell, son of Ranulph, had the castle of Nottingham given him by the Conqueror. He was taken prisoner with Stephen at the battle of Lincoln; his castle was given by the empress Maud to William Painell; but in the year following his soldiers recovered it by stratagem in the night. He was living in 1141.William de Percy, son of Richard. He gave to the monks of Fountains two oxgangs of land, three to the monks of Whitby, and one to the monks of Bridlington. He married Adelidis de Tunebrige, and had issue four sons, Walter, Alan, Richard, and William; and two daughters, Maud and Agnes. His sons dying, Agnes, who married Joscelaine de Louvaine, younger son of Godfrey, duke of Brabant, eventually became sole heiress, and her husband assumed the name of Percy.Robert de Stutevile, son of Robert, was sheriff of Yorkshire in 16 Henry II., and was engaged in the battle fought near Alnwick, 20 Henry II. He founded a monastery at Keldholme, another at Rosedale, and gave to the monks of St. Mary's Abbey, York, one carucate of land. He was succeeded by his son Robert, who gave large possessions to the monks of Rievaulx.[10]In 1152, Scotland lost, says Sir Walter Scott, a treasure by the death of the inestimable prince Henry. He left by Ada, an English lady of quality, a family of three sons and as many daughters. In the subsequent year the venerable David followed his son. Having discharged all his duty as a man and a monarch, by settling his affairs as well as the early age of his grandchildren would permit, he was found dead, in an attitude of devotion, 24 May, 1153. He was succeeded by his grandson, Malcolm IV., then only twelve years of age.[11]Stukeley's Palæographia Britannica, No.I.passim. Leland's Collectanea,I.54. See Ritson'sRobin Hood.[12]Grafton's Chron. 85. Fordun, 774.[13]Leland's Itinerary, v. 101.[14]Sloane MS.[15]He is supposed to have died about 1520, at the age of sixty.[16]Little woods.[17]Shrubs. "When the fields are in their beauty."[18]Dream.[19]Prepare.[20]Get ready.[21]Strong.[22]Horse.[23]Mischief.[24]i. e. ways, paths. Gate is a common word in the north for "way."[25]A slip of greensward between plough-lands, woods, &c.[26]Woe, sorrow.[27]Unsett steven—unlooked for time. Steven, see Glossary.[28]Thorns, briars.[29]Together.[30]The title of "Sir" was not formerly peculiar to knights, it was given to priests, and sometimes to very inferior personages. Dr. Johnson thinks this title was applied to such as had taken the degree of A. B. in the universities.[31]A little hill.[32]Immediately, quickly.[33]Confession.[34]The above ballad is from an old black-letter copy in Anthony à Wood's collection, compared with two others in the British Museum. In 1557 certain "ballets" are entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, "to John Wallye and Mrs. Toye," one of which is entitled, "of wakefylde and a grene," meaning probably this ballad.[35]Itineraries, 161.[36]Willow.[37]So called from their being tied up at night.[38]"A. D. 1194, King Richard I. being a hunting in the forrest of Sherwood, did chase a hart out of the forrest of Sherwood into Barnesdale in Yorkshire, and because he could not there recover him, he made proclamation at Tickill in Yorkshire, and at divers other places, that no person should kill, hurt or chase the said hart, but that he might safely retorne into forrest againe; which hart was afterwards called, 'A hart royall proclaimed.'"—Manwood'sForest Laws.[39]Itinerary, v. 101.[40]Grafton, 85. Harl. MS. 1233. 367.

AS we march'd down to Scarbro' on the fourteenth of June,

The weather it was warm, and the soldiers in full bloom;

There it was my good fortune to meet my dearest dear,

For my heart was stole away by colonel Thompson's volunteer.

My father and my mother confined me in my room,When I jump'd out of the window, and ran into the town,Where it was my good fortune, to meet my dearest dear,The man that stole my heart was colonel Thompson's volunteer.

My father and my mother confined me in my room,

When I jump'd out of the window, and ran into the town,

Where it was my good fortune, to meet my dearest dear,

The man that stole my heart was colonel Thompson's volunteer.

Then in came George Etherington all with his bugle horn,He said he'd seen the prettiest girl that ever sun shone on,Her cheeks they were like roses, she is beautiful and fair,And she says she'll march with none but colonel Thompson's volunteer.

Then in came George Etherington all with his bugle horn,

He said he'd seen the prettiest girl that ever sun shone on,

Her cheeks they were like roses, she is beautiful and fair,

And she says she'll march with none but colonel Thompson's volunteer.

Then in came captain Carter, and unto them did say,That he had seen the prettiest girl, of any there to-day,Her eyes were black as jet, and her hair it hung so tight,And she says she'll march with none but colonel Thompson's men this night.

Then in came captain Carter, and unto them did say,

That he had seen the prettiest girl, of any there to-day,

Her eyes were black as jet, and her hair it hung so tight,

And she says she'll march with none but colonel Thompson's men this night.

Our officers are loyal, they are men of courage bold,Their clothing is of scarlet and turned up with gold,It's I could wash the linen to please my dearest dear,When I was in the field with colonel Thompson's volunteer.

Our officers are loyal, they are men of courage bold,

Their clothing is of scarlet and turned up with gold,

It's I could wash the linen to please my dearest dear,

When I was in the field with colonel Thompson's volunteer.

Our ladies they love music, our captain gives command,They play the prettiest marches of all the royal bands,They play the sweetest music that ever my ears did hear,For my heart was stole away by colonel Thompson's volunteer.

Our ladies they love music, our captain gives command,

They play the prettiest marches of all the royal bands,

They play the sweetest music that ever my ears did hear,

For my heart was stole away by colonel Thompson's volunteer.

I'll bid adieu to father, likewise to mother too,I'll never forsake my soldier but unto him prove true,And I'll range the country over with the lad that I love dear,Since I'm bound in wedlock's bonds to colonel Thompson's volunteer.

I'll bid adieu to father, likewise to mother too,

I'll never forsake my soldier but unto him prove true,

And I'll range the country over with the lad that I love dear,

Since I'm bound in wedlock's bonds to colonel Thompson's volunteer.

COME, all you gallant poaching lads, and gan alang with me,And let's away to Sledmere woods, some game for to see;It's far and near, and what they say it's more to feel than see,So come, my gallant poaching lads, and gan alang with me.Chorus.We are all brave poaching lads, our names we dare not tell,And if we meet the keeper, boys, we'll make his head to swell.On the fifth of November last, it being a star-light night,The time it was appointed, boys, that we were all to meet,When at twelve o'clock at midnight, boys, we all did fire a gun,And soon, my lads, it's we did hear, old hares begin to run.We have a dog, they call him Sharp, he Sledmere woods did stray,The keeper he fell in with him and fain would him betray;He fired two barrels at the dog, intending him to kill,But by his strength and speed of foot he tript across the hill.All on one side and both his thighs he wounded him full sore,Before we reached home that night with blood was covered o'er;On recovering of his strength again, revenged for evermore,There's never a hare shall him escape that runs on Sledmere shore.We have a lad, they call him Jim, he's lame on all one leg,Soon as the gun is shoulder'd up, his leg begins to wag;When the gun presented fire, and the bird came tumbling down,This lad he kick'd him with his club before he reached the ground.So as we as march'd up Burlington road, we loaded every gun,Saying if we meet a keeper bold we'll make him for to run,For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,But if we meet a keeper bold we'll make his head to swell.We landed into Cherry woods; we went straight up the walk;We peak'd the pheasants in the trees, so softly we did talk;We mark'd all out, what we did see, till we return'd again,For we were going to Colleywoodbro' to fetch away the game.Come, all you gallant poaching lads, if I must have my will,Before we try to shoot this night let's try some hares to kill;For shooting, you very well know, it makes terrible sound,So if we shoot before we hunt we shall disturb the ground.We landed into Suddaby fields, to set we did begin,Our dog he was so restless there, we scarce could keep him in;But when our dog we did let loose, 'tis true they call him Watch,And before we left that ground that night he fifteen hares did catch.So it's eight cock-pheasants and five hens, all these we marked right well,We never fired gun that night but down a pheasant fell.You gentlemen wanting pheasants, unto me you must apply,Both hares and pheasants you shall have, and them right speedily.So now, my lads, it's we'll gan yam, we'll take the nearest way,And if we meet a keeper bold his body we will bray;For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,But if we meet a keeper bold his head we'll make to swell.So come, you poaching lads, who love to hunt the game,And let us fix a time when we will meet again;For at Colleywoodbro' there's plenty of game, but we'll gan no more,The next port shall be Kirby Hill where hares do run by scores.

COME, all you gallant poaching lads, and gan alang with me,

And let's away to Sledmere woods, some game for to see;

It's far and near, and what they say it's more to feel than see,

So come, my gallant poaching lads, and gan alang with me.

Chorus.

We are all brave poaching lads, our names we dare not tell,And if we meet the keeper, boys, we'll make his head to swell.

We are all brave poaching lads, our names we dare not tell,

And if we meet the keeper, boys, we'll make his head to swell.

On the fifth of November last, it being a star-light night,The time it was appointed, boys, that we were all to meet,When at twelve o'clock at midnight, boys, we all did fire a gun,And soon, my lads, it's we did hear, old hares begin to run.

On the fifth of November last, it being a star-light night,

The time it was appointed, boys, that we were all to meet,

When at twelve o'clock at midnight, boys, we all did fire a gun,

And soon, my lads, it's we did hear, old hares begin to run.

We have a dog, they call him Sharp, he Sledmere woods did stray,The keeper he fell in with him and fain would him betray;He fired two barrels at the dog, intending him to kill,But by his strength and speed of foot he tript across the hill.

We have a dog, they call him Sharp, he Sledmere woods did stray,

The keeper he fell in with him and fain would him betray;

He fired two barrels at the dog, intending him to kill,

But by his strength and speed of foot he tript across the hill.

All on one side and both his thighs he wounded him full sore,Before we reached home that night with blood was covered o'er;On recovering of his strength again, revenged for evermore,There's never a hare shall him escape that runs on Sledmere shore.

All on one side and both his thighs he wounded him full sore,

Before we reached home that night with blood was covered o'er;

On recovering of his strength again, revenged for evermore,

There's never a hare shall him escape that runs on Sledmere shore.

We have a lad, they call him Jim, he's lame on all one leg,Soon as the gun is shoulder'd up, his leg begins to wag;When the gun presented fire, and the bird came tumbling down,This lad he kick'd him with his club before he reached the ground.

We have a lad, they call him Jim, he's lame on all one leg,

Soon as the gun is shoulder'd up, his leg begins to wag;

When the gun presented fire, and the bird came tumbling down,

This lad he kick'd him with his club before he reached the ground.

So as we as march'd up Burlington road, we loaded every gun,Saying if we meet a keeper bold we'll make him for to run,For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,But if we meet a keeper bold we'll make his head to swell.

So as we as march'd up Burlington road, we loaded every gun,

Saying if we meet a keeper bold we'll make him for to run,

For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,

But if we meet a keeper bold we'll make his head to swell.

We landed into Cherry woods; we went straight up the walk;We peak'd the pheasants in the trees, so softly we did talk;We mark'd all out, what we did see, till we return'd again,For we were going to Colleywoodbro' to fetch away the game.

We landed into Cherry woods; we went straight up the walk;

We peak'd the pheasants in the trees, so softly we did talk;

We mark'd all out, what we did see, till we return'd again,

For we were going to Colleywoodbro' to fetch away the game.

Come, all you gallant poaching lads, if I must have my will,Before we try to shoot this night let's try some hares to kill;For shooting, you very well know, it makes terrible sound,So if we shoot before we hunt we shall disturb the ground.

Come, all you gallant poaching lads, if I must have my will,

Before we try to shoot this night let's try some hares to kill;

For shooting, you very well know, it makes terrible sound,

So if we shoot before we hunt we shall disturb the ground.

We landed into Suddaby fields, to set we did begin,Our dog he was so restless there, we scarce could keep him in;But when our dog we did let loose, 'tis true they call him Watch,And before we left that ground that night he fifteen hares did catch.

We landed into Suddaby fields, to set we did begin,

Our dog he was so restless there, we scarce could keep him in;

But when our dog we did let loose, 'tis true they call him Watch,

And before we left that ground that night he fifteen hares did catch.

So it's eight cock-pheasants and five hens, all these we marked right well,We never fired gun that night but down a pheasant fell.You gentlemen wanting pheasants, unto me you must apply,Both hares and pheasants you shall have, and them right speedily.

So it's eight cock-pheasants and five hens, all these we marked right well,

We never fired gun that night but down a pheasant fell.

You gentlemen wanting pheasants, unto me you must apply,

Both hares and pheasants you shall have, and them right speedily.

So now, my lads, it's we'll gan yam, we'll take the nearest way,And if we meet a keeper bold his body we will bray;For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,But if we meet a keeper bold his head we'll make to swell.

So now, my lads, it's we'll gan yam, we'll take the nearest way,

And if we meet a keeper bold his body we will bray;

For we are all bright Sledmere lads, our names we will not tell,

But if we meet a keeper bold his head we'll make to swell.

So come, you poaching lads, who love to hunt the game,And let us fix a time when we will meet again;For at Colleywoodbro' there's plenty of game, but we'll gan no more,The next port shall be Kirby Hill where hares do run by scores.

So come, you poaching lads, who love to hunt the game,

And let us fix a time when we will meet again;

For at Colleywoodbro' there's plenty of game, but we'll gan no more,

The next port shall be Kirby Hill where hares do run by scores.

I'ZE a Yorkshireman just come to town,And my coming to town was a gay day,For fortune has here set me downWaiting gentleman to a fine lady.My lady gives galas and routs,And her treats of the town are the talks here;But nothing i'ze seen thereabouts,Equal one that was given in Yorkshire.Rum ti iddity iddity, rum ti iddity ido,Rum ti iddity iddity, fal de ral, lal de ral lido.Johnny Fig was a white and green grocer,In business as brisk as an eel, sir,None than John in the shop could stick closer,But his wife thought it quite ungenteel, sir.Her neighbours resolv'd to cut out, sir,And astonish the rustic parishioners;She invited them all to a rout sir,And ax'd all the village musicioners.Rum ti, &c.The company met gay as larks, sir,Drawn forth all as fine as blown roses;The concert commenc'd with the clark, sir,Who chanted the Vicar and Moses;The barber sung Gallery of Wigs, sir,The gentlemen all said 'twas the dandy;And the ladies encor'd Johnny Fig, sir,Who volunteer'd Drops of Brandy.Rum ti, &c.The baker he sung a good batch,While the lawyer for harmony willing,While the bailiff he join'd in the catch,And the notes of the butcher were killing;The wheelwright he put in his spoke,The schoolmaster flogg'd on with fury;The coachman he play'd the Black Joke,And the fish-woman sung a Bravura.Rum ti, &c.To strike the assembly with wonder,Madam Fig scream'd a song loud as Boreas,Soon wak'd farmer Thrasher's dog Thunder,Who starting up, joined in the chorus;While a donkey the melody marking,Chim'd in too, which made a wag say, sir,"Attend to the rector of Barking'sDuet with the vicar of Bray, sir."Rum ti, &c.A brine tub half full of beef, salted,Madam Fig had trick'd out for a seat, sir,Where the taylor to sing was exalted,But the cov'ring crack'd under his feet, sir;Snip was sous'd in the brine, but, soon rising,Bawl'd out, while they laugh'd at his grief, sir,"Is it a matter so monstrous surprising,To see pickled cabbage with beef, sir?"Rum ti, &c.Then a ball after the concert gave way,And for dancing no souls could be riper,So struck up the Devil to Pay,While Johnny Fig paid the piper;But the best thing came after the ball,For finish the whole with perfection,Madam Fig ax'd the gentlefolks allTo sup on a cold collation.Rum ti, &c.

I'ZE a Yorkshireman just come to town,

And my coming to town was a gay day,

For fortune has here set me down

Waiting gentleman to a fine lady.

My lady gives galas and routs,

And her treats of the town are the talks here;

But nothing i'ze seen thereabouts,

Equal one that was given in Yorkshire.

Rum ti iddity iddity, rum ti iddity ido,

Rum ti iddity iddity, fal de ral, lal de ral lido.

Johnny Fig was a white and green grocer,In business as brisk as an eel, sir,None than John in the shop could stick closer,But his wife thought it quite ungenteel, sir.Her neighbours resolv'd to cut out, sir,And astonish the rustic parishioners;She invited them all to a rout sir,And ax'd all the village musicioners.Rum ti, &c.

Johnny Fig was a white and green grocer,

In business as brisk as an eel, sir,

None than John in the shop could stick closer,

But his wife thought it quite ungenteel, sir.

Her neighbours resolv'd to cut out, sir,

And astonish the rustic parishioners;

She invited them all to a rout sir,

And ax'd all the village musicioners.

Rum ti, &c.

The company met gay as larks, sir,Drawn forth all as fine as blown roses;The concert commenc'd with the clark, sir,Who chanted the Vicar and Moses;The barber sung Gallery of Wigs, sir,The gentlemen all said 'twas the dandy;And the ladies encor'd Johnny Fig, sir,Who volunteer'd Drops of Brandy.Rum ti, &c.

The company met gay as larks, sir,

Drawn forth all as fine as blown roses;

The concert commenc'd with the clark, sir,

Who chanted the Vicar and Moses;

The barber sung Gallery of Wigs, sir,

The gentlemen all said 'twas the dandy;

And the ladies encor'd Johnny Fig, sir,

Who volunteer'd Drops of Brandy.

Rum ti, &c.

The baker he sung a good batch,While the lawyer for harmony willing,While the bailiff he join'd in the catch,And the notes of the butcher were killing;The wheelwright he put in his spoke,The schoolmaster flogg'd on with fury;The coachman he play'd the Black Joke,And the fish-woman sung a Bravura.Rum ti, &c.

The baker he sung a good batch,

While the lawyer for harmony willing,

While the bailiff he join'd in the catch,

And the notes of the butcher were killing;

The wheelwright he put in his spoke,

The schoolmaster flogg'd on with fury;

The coachman he play'd the Black Joke,

And the fish-woman sung a Bravura.

Rum ti, &c.

To strike the assembly with wonder,Madam Fig scream'd a song loud as Boreas,Soon wak'd farmer Thrasher's dog Thunder,Who starting up, joined in the chorus;While a donkey the melody marking,Chim'd in too, which made a wag say, sir,"Attend to the rector of Barking'sDuet with the vicar of Bray, sir."Rum ti, &c.

To strike the assembly with wonder,

Madam Fig scream'd a song loud as Boreas,

Soon wak'd farmer Thrasher's dog Thunder,

Who starting up, joined in the chorus;

While a donkey the melody marking,

Chim'd in too, which made a wag say, sir,

"Attend to the rector of Barking's

Duet with the vicar of Bray, sir."

Rum ti, &c.

A brine tub half full of beef, salted,Madam Fig had trick'd out for a seat, sir,Where the taylor to sing was exalted,But the cov'ring crack'd under his feet, sir;Snip was sous'd in the brine, but, soon rising,Bawl'd out, while they laugh'd at his grief, sir,"Is it a matter so monstrous surprising,To see pickled cabbage with beef, sir?"Rum ti, &c.

A brine tub half full of beef, salted,

Madam Fig had trick'd out for a seat, sir,

Where the taylor to sing was exalted,

But the cov'ring crack'd under his feet, sir;

Snip was sous'd in the brine, but, soon rising,

Bawl'd out, while they laugh'd at his grief, sir,

"Is it a matter so monstrous surprising,

To see pickled cabbage with beef, sir?"

Rum ti, &c.

Then a ball after the concert gave way,And for dancing no souls could be riper,So struck up the Devil to Pay,While Johnny Fig paid the piper;But the best thing came after the ball,For finish the whole with perfection,Madam Fig ax'd the gentlefolks allTo sup on a cold collation.Rum ti, &c.

Then a ball after the concert gave way,

And for dancing no souls could be riper,

So struck up the Devil to Pay,

While Johnny Fig paid the piper;

But the best thing came after the ball,

For finish the whole with perfection,

Madam Fig ax'd the gentlefolks all

To sup on a cold collation.

Rum ti, &c.

THERE was a jolly soldier down into Yorkshire went,And for to court a pretty girl was his whole intent;He courted her, and told her he lov'd her as his life,Poor girl, she little thought he had another wife.He courted her six months, with behaviour mild and kind;Her friends and relations did like him, so we find;He said, "My dearest Peggy, I love you as my life,And if your friends are willing, you shall be my wife."Her father and her mother they both did agree,That joined in wedlock this couple should be;I, like a silly girl, consented to the same,I thought to have a husband none could me blame.The time being come, they both of them were wed,So lovingly together, as many people said,But early the next morning my heart was like to break,To hear the dismal story to me he did relate."Farewell, my dearest Peggy, it cuts me to the heart,For I do love you dearly, to think that we must part;I rue what I have done, my love, for me pray don't moan,I have got a loving wife and children at home."With that the poor girl she screamed outright,"So hard is my fortune, I am ruined quite;I am married to a false man that's got another wife;I shall have no other comfort or joy of my life."Then raving distracted, she ran and tore her hair,Since she must part with him, she fell into despair.Her mother, she laments, and her father full of woe,"I'm sorry I gave consent to ruin my daughter so."The soldier he went home unto his loving wife;Thinking she might hear of this, bethought to end the strife,Saying, "I'm married to another, to tell you I'm loath.""You villain," said she, "you have ruin'd us both."The wife took it to heart, she bade the world adieu,To think he lov'd another, and prov'd to her untrue;Now he is forsaken, and thus doth sigh and mourn,"Not long ago I had two wives, but now, alas! I've none."Come all you brave young soldiers, a warning take by me,And ne'er delude young women and bring to misery;Think on your wife and children, and ne'er defile the bed,And never wed the second wife, until the first is dead.

THERE was a jolly soldier down into Yorkshire went,

And for to court a pretty girl was his whole intent;

He courted her, and told her he lov'd her as his life,

Poor girl, she little thought he had another wife.

He courted her six months, with behaviour mild and kind;Her friends and relations did like him, so we find;He said, "My dearest Peggy, I love you as my life,And if your friends are willing, you shall be my wife."

He courted her six months, with behaviour mild and kind;

Her friends and relations did like him, so we find;

He said, "My dearest Peggy, I love you as my life,

And if your friends are willing, you shall be my wife."

Her father and her mother they both did agree,That joined in wedlock this couple should be;I, like a silly girl, consented to the same,I thought to have a husband none could me blame.

Her father and her mother they both did agree,

That joined in wedlock this couple should be;

I, like a silly girl, consented to the same,

I thought to have a husband none could me blame.

The time being come, they both of them were wed,So lovingly together, as many people said,But early the next morning my heart was like to break,To hear the dismal story to me he did relate.

The time being come, they both of them were wed,

So lovingly together, as many people said,

But early the next morning my heart was like to break,

To hear the dismal story to me he did relate.

"Farewell, my dearest Peggy, it cuts me to the heart,For I do love you dearly, to think that we must part;I rue what I have done, my love, for me pray don't moan,I have got a loving wife and children at home."

"Farewell, my dearest Peggy, it cuts me to the heart,

For I do love you dearly, to think that we must part;

I rue what I have done, my love, for me pray don't moan,

I have got a loving wife and children at home."

With that the poor girl she screamed outright,"So hard is my fortune, I am ruined quite;I am married to a false man that's got another wife;I shall have no other comfort or joy of my life."

With that the poor girl she screamed outright,

"So hard is my fortune, I am ruined quite;

I am married to a false man that's got another wife;

I shall have no other comfort or joy of my life."

Then raving distracted, she ran and tore her hair,Since she must part with him, she fell into despair.Her mother, she laments, and her father full of woe,"I'm sorry I gave consent to ruin my daughter so."

Then raving distracted, she ran and tore her hair,

Since she must part with him, she fell into despair.

Her mother, she laments, and her father full of woe,

"I'm sorry I gave consent to ruin my daughter so."

The soldier he went home unto his loving wife;Thinking she might hear of this, bethought to end the strife,Saying, "I'm married to another, to tell you I'm loath.""You villain," said she, "you have ruin'd us both."

The soldier he went home unto his loving wife;

Thinking she might hear of this, bethought to end the strife,

Saying, "I'm married to another, to tell you I'm loath."

"You villain," said she, "you have ruin'd us both."

The wife took it to heart, she bade the world adieu,To think he lov'd another, and prov'd to her untrue;Now he is forsaken, and thus doth sigh and mourn,"Not long ago I had two wives, but now, alas! I've none."

The wife took it to heart, she bade the world adieu,

To think he lov'd another, and prov'd to her untrue;

Now he is forsaken, and thus doth sigh and mourn,

"Not long ago I had two wives, but now, alas! I've none."

Come all you brave young soldiers, a warning take by me,And ne'er delude young women and bring to misery;Think on your wife and children, and ne'er defile the bed,And never wed the second wife, until the first is dead.

Come all you brave young soldiers, a warning take by me,

And ne'er delude young women and bring to misery;

Think on your wife and children, and ne'er defile the bed,

And never wed the second wife, until the first is dead.

By the Author of "Natterin Nan," etc.

Tune, "Come Whoam to thi Childer an Me."

AW'M a weyver ya knaw, an awf deead,So aw du all at iver aw canTa put away aat o' my heeadThe thowts an the aims of a man!Eight shillin a wick's whot aw arn,When aw've varry gooid wark an full time,An aw think it a sorry consarnFur a hearty young chap in his prime!But ar maister says things is as wellAs they hae been, ur ivir can be;An aw happen sud think soa mysel,If he'd nobud swop places wi me;But he's welcome ta all he can get,Aw begrudge him o' noan o' his brass,An aw'm nowt bud a madlin ta fret,Ur ta dream o' yond bewtiful lass!Aw nivir can call hur my wife,My love aw sal nivir mak knawn,Yit the sorra that darkens hur lifeThraws a shadda across o' my awn;An aw'm suar when hur heart is at eeas,Thear is sunshine an singin i' mine,An misfortunes may come as they pleeas,Bud they nivir can mak ma repine.That Chartist wur nowt bud a sloap,Aw wur fooild be his speeches an rhymes,His promises wattered my hoap,An aw leng'd fur his sunshiny times;But aw feel 'at my dearist desireIs withrin within ma away,Like an ivy-stem trailin' it mire,An deein' fur t' want of a stay!When aw laid i' my bed day an neet,An wur geen up by t'doctur fur deead—God bless hur—shoo'd come wi' a leetAn a basin o' grewil an breead;An aw once thowt aw'd aht wi' it all,Bud sa kindly shoo chattud an smiled,Aw wur fain tu turn ovvur ta t'wall,An ta bluther an sob like a child!An aw said as aw thowt of her een,Each breeter fur't tear at wur in't;It's a sin ta be nivir furgeenTa yoke hur ta famine an stint;So aw'l e'en travel forrud thru life,Like a man thru a desert unknawn,Aw mun ne'er hev a hoam an a wife,Bud my sorras will all be my awn!Soa aw' trudge on aloan as aw owt,An whativir my troubles may be,They'll be sweetened, my lass, wi' the thowtThat aw've nivir browt trouble ta thee;Yit a burd hes its young uns ta guard,A wild beast, a mate in his den;An aw cannot but think that its hard—Nay, deng it, aw'm roarin agen!

AW'M a weyver ya knaw, an awf deead,

So aw du all at iver aw can

Ta put away aat o' my heead

The thowts an the aims of a man!

Eight shillin a wick's whot aw arn,

When aw've varry gooid wark an full time,

An aw think it a sorry consarn

Fur a hearty young chap in his prime!

But ar maister says things is as wellAs they hae been, ur ivir can be;An aw happen sud think soa mysel,If he'd nobud swop places wi me;But he's welcome ta all he can get,Aw begrudge him o' noan o' his brass,An aw'm nowt bud a madlin ta fret,Ur ta dream o' yond bewtiful lass!

But ar maister says things is as well

As they hae been, ur ivir can be;

An aw happen sud think soa mysel,

If he'd nobud swop places wi me;

But he's welcome ta all he can get,

Aw begrudge him o' noan o' his brass,

An aw'm nowt bud a madlin ta fret,

Ur ta dream o' yond bewtiful lass!

Aw nivir can call hur my wife,My love aw sal nivir mak knawn,Yit the sorra that darkens hur lifeThraws a shadda across o' my awn;An aw'm suar when hur heart is at eeas,Thear is sunshine an singin i' mine,An misfortunes may come as they pleeas,Bud they nivir can mak ma repine.

Aw nivir can call hur my wife,

My love aw sal nivir mak knawn,

Yit the sorra that darkens hur life

Thraws a shadda across o' my awn;

An aw'm suar when hur heart is at eeas,

Thear is sunshine an singin i' mine,

An misfortunes may come as they pleeas,

Bud they nivir can mak ma repine.

That Chartist wur nowt bud a sloap,Aw wur fooild be his speeches an rhymes,His promises wattered my hoap,An aw leng'd fur his sunshiny times;But aw feel 'at my dearist desireIs withrin within ma away,Like an ivy-stem trailin' it mire,An deein' fur t' want of a stay!

That Chartist wur nowt bud a sloap,

Aw wur fooild be his speeches an rhymes,

His promises wattered my hoap,

An aw leng'd fur his sunshiny times;

But aw feel 'at my dearist desire

Is withrin within ma away,

Like an ivy-stem trailin' it mire,

An deein' fur t' want of a stay!

When aw laid i' my bed day an neet,An wur geen up by t'doctur fur deead—God bless hur—shoo'd come wi' a leetAn a basin o' grewil an breead;An aw once thowt aw'd aht wi' it all,Bud sa kindly shoo chattud an smiled,Aw wur fain tu turn ovvur ta t'wall,An ta bluther an sob like a child!

When aw laid i' my bed day an neet,

An wur geen up by t'doctur fur deead—

God bless hur—shoo'd come wi' a leet

An a basin o' grewil an breead;

An aw once thowt aw'd aht wi' it all,

Bud sa kindly shoo chattud an smiled,

Aw wur fain tu turn ovvur ta t'wall,

An ta bluther an sob like a child!

An aw said as aw thowt of her een,Each breeter fur't tear at wur in't;It's a sin ta be nivir furgeenTa yoke hur ta famine an stint;So aw'l e'en travel forrud thru life,Like a man thru a desert unknawn,Aw mun ne'er hev a hoam an a wife,Bud my sorras will all be my awn!

An aw said as aw thowt of her een,

Each breeter fur't tear at wur in't;

It's a sin ta be nivir furgeen

Ta yoke hur ta famine an stint;

So aw'l e'en travel forrud thru life,

Like a man thru a desert unknawn,

Aw mun ne'er hev a hoam an a wife,

Bud my sorras will all be my awn!

Soa aw' trudge on aloan as aw owt,An whativir my troubles may be,They'll be sweetened, my lass, wi' the thowtThat aw've nivir browt trouble ta thee;Yit a burd hes its young uns ta guard,A wild beast, a mate in his den;An aw cannot but think that its hard—Nay, deng it, aw'm roarin agen!

Soa aw' trudge on aloan as aw owt,

An whativir my troubles may be,

They'll be sweetened, my lass, wi' the thowt

That aw've nivir browt trouble ta thee;

Yit a burd hes its young uns ta guard,

A wild beast, a mate in his den;

An aw cannot but think that its hard—

Nay, deng it, aw'm roarin agen!

Recently published, 8vo. with Illustrations, cloth, price 15s. Large paper, half bound, £1 5s.

THE HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES OFNORTH ALLERTONIN THE COUNTY OF YORK.

BY C. J. DAVISON INGLEDEW,

OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE.

Opinions of the Press.

"Here a stranger may take up his abode in a single town, and study under a skilful master the story of its career and the details of its progress in good or bad fortune."—Athenæum.

"The public and private history of North Allerton, its antiquities, public buildings, registers, folk-lore, are duly recorded in a way to gratify its inhabitants, and the curiosity of all who are interested in the history of this ancient town."—Notes and Queries.

"The author evinces great research, and presents to the reader much valuable historical and antiquarian information."—Yorkshire Gazette.

"Though professedly a local history, this work is rich in the records of national events."—Leeds Intelligencer.

"A book which will not only be interesting to all the inhabitants of the North Riding, but must also prove very helpful to any future historian of England."—Leeds Mercury.

"Possesses the high merit of being a book for interesting and delightful perusal by any reader."—Newcastle Journal.

"Full of anecdote, story, and song—manners and customs—folklore and family history."—Gateshead Observer.

"To archæological study generally it is no inconsiderable contribution."—Clerical Journal.

"A great addition to the explorist, as well as to the advanced historical scholar, and is as completely interesting as it is useful."Military Spectator.

LONDON:—BELL AND DALDY, 186, FLEET STREET.

[1]The famousReafen, or enchanted standard, in which the Danes put great confidence. It contained the figure of a raven, which had been inwoven, by the three sisters of Hinguar and Hubba, with many magical incantations, and which, by its different movements, prognosticated, as the Danes believed, the good or bad success of any enterprise.

[2]The sky.

[3]Eldest son of Gilbert de Gant, nephew to William, duke of Normandy. Walter was a person of great humanity and piety; who, when advanced in years, and near his death, commanded a regiment of Flemings and Normans in this engagement. He founded the priory of Bridlington, and added buildings to the abbey of Bardney, which his father had restored. He married Maud, daughter of Stephen, earl of Brittany and Richmond, had with her all Swaledale, in Frank-marriage; and died, fourth Stephen, leaving issue three sons, Gilbert, who succeeded him, Robert, and Geoffrey.

[4]William le Gros, chief of those gallant barons at the engagement; and in reward for the great valour displayed by him on that occasion was forthwith advanced to the earldom of Yorkshire. He was distinguished among the Anglo-Norman barons for his liberality towards the various religious orders, having founded a Cistercian abbey at Edenham, in Lincolnshire, and one at Meux in Yorkshire, not far from his castle of Skipsey; a monastery of black canons at Thornton-upon-Humber; and a hospital at Newton. He was also the founder of the castle of Scarborough. He died in 1179, leaving two daughters, his co-heirs. Hawyse, married first to William de Mandeville, earl of Essex, secondly to William de Fortibus; and Amicia, married to Eston.

[5]Robert de Brus, son of Robert who came over with the Conqueror, by Agnes his wife, daughter of Waltheg, earl of St. Clair. He had an interview with David, king of Scotland, before the battle, to endeavour to persuade him to desist. He was no less distinguished for piety than valour. He founded Guisborough priory; gave the church of Middlesborough to Whitby; and conferred on the abbey of St Mary, at York, his lordships of Appleton and Hornby. He died in 1141, and was buried at Guisborough; leaving issue, by Agnes his wife, Adam and Robert.Adam de Brus, lord of Skelton, son and heir of the above, who fought by the side of his father in this engagement. Having adhered to king Stephen throughout his stormy and disastrous career, he incurred the displeasure of Henry II. who deprived him of his castle of Danby in Cleveland. He died in 1167, and was buried at Guisborough, leaving issue, by Ivetta, his wife, Adam, commonly called Adam the Second, and Agnes.

Adam de Brus, lord of Skelton, son and heir of the above, who fought by the side of his father in this engagement. Having adhered to king Stephen throughout his stormy and disastrous career, he incurred the displeasure of Henry II. who deprived him of his castle of Danby in Cleveland. He died in 1167, and was buried at Guisborough, leaving issue, by Ivetta, his wife, Adam, commonly called Adam the Second, and Agnes.

[6]Lord of Helmsley and Kirkham, and one of the principal commanders in this battle; and, although this is the only battle we find him engaged in, his address to the soldiers shows him a man of valour in defence of his country. He founded the abbey of Rievaulx and Kirkham; and died in 1153, and was buried in the abbey of Rievaulx, where two years before he had become a monk.

[7]Son of Nigel de Albini, who assumed the name of Mowbray. He was one of the commanders in this battle, though then in minority; and, adhering to king Stephen, was with him at the battle of Lincoln, and there taken prisoner. He was a benefactor to no fewer than thirty-five religious houses, and founded the abbey of Byland, and the priory of Newburgh, in the neighbourhood of his castle at Thirsk. So fervent was his devotion that he twice took upon him the cross, and made journeys to the Holy Land, and upon his return retired to the calm seclusion of Byland abbey, where he assumed the monastic habit, and ended his days; leaving, by his wife Alice de Gant, two sons, Nigel and Robert.

[8]Thurstan, the twenty-eighth archbishop of York, and who was at this period Lieutenant-Governor of the North, organized the troops that fought this famous battle, and had the command as far as Thirsk, at which place he resigned, on account of sickness, his authority to Ralph, bishop of Orkney, of whom little is known. The archbishop of York used to ordain bishops with the title of Orkney; but Torffæus is of opinion that they were merely titulars, to give greater show of authority to the see of York; and he is positive that this bishop did never reside in the isles of Orkney, and that Ralph, designated bishop of Orkney, had been a presbyter of York.

[9]The following were among the "valiante chiefetaynes:"—Bernard de Baliol, nephew to Guy de Baliol. After this battle he adhered to Stephen, and was taken prisoner with him at the battle of Lincoln. He is supposed to be the founder of the castle thence called Bernard castle; was a benefactor to the monks of St. Mary's Abbey, York, and those of Rievaulx.Richard de Curcy, represented by Hugustald as a valiant commander in this battle. He was succeeded by William de Curcy, sewer to king Henry II.Robert de Ferrars, youngest son of Henry de Ferrers, by Berta his wife. He commanded the Derbyshire men in this battle, and for his bravery was forthwith advanced to the earldom of Derby, which honour he did not long enjoy, dying the following year, 1139, leaving Robert second earl.William Fossard, son of Robert, was taken prisoner with Stephen at the battle of Lincoln. He left issue Joane, married to Robert de Turnham.Ralph Hanselyn, descended from Goisfrid Alselin. He commanded the Nottinghamshire men in this battle, and resided principally at Shelford in that county. He left issue Rose, married to Thomas Bardulf.Ilbert de Lacy, lord of Pontefract. He married Alice, daughter of Gilbert de Gant, and dying without issue, Henry his brother succeeded him.Gilbert de Lacy, brother of the above. Hemingford and other historians inform us that he was the only knight slain.William Peverell, son of Ranulph, had the castle of Nottingham given him by the Conqueror. He was taken prisoner with Stephen at the battle of Lincoln; his castle was given by the empress Maud to William Painell; but in the year following his soldiers recovered it by stratagem in the night. He was living in 1141.William de Percy, son of Richard. He gave to the monks of Fountains two oxgangs of land, three to the monks of Whitby, and one to the monks of Bridlington. He married Adelidis de Tunebrige, and had issue four sons, Walter, Alan, Richard, and William; and two daughters, Maud and Agnes. His sons dying, Agnes, who married Joscelaine de Louvaine, younger son of Godfrey, duke of Brabant, eventually became sole heiress, and her husband assumed the name of Percy.Robert de Stutevile, son of Robert, was sheriff of Yorkshire in 16 Henry II., and was engaged in the battle fought near Alnwick, 20 Henry II. He founded a monastery at Keldholme, another at Rosedale, and gave to the monks of St. Mary's Abbey, York, one carucate of land. He was succeeded by his son Robert, who gave large possessions to the monks of Rievaulx.

[9]The following were among the "valiante chiefetaynes:"—

Bernard de Baliol, nephew to Guy de Baliol. After this battle he adhered to Stephen, and was taken prisoner with him at the battle of Lincoln. He is supposed to be the founder of the castle thence called Bernard castle; was a benefactor to the monks of St. Mary's Abbey, York, and those of Rievaulx.

Richard de Curcy, represented by Hugustald as a valiant commander in this battle. He was succeeded by William de Curcy, sewer to king Henry II.

Robert de Ferrars, youngest son of Henry de Ferrers, by Berta his wife. He commanded the Derbyshire men in this battle, and for his bravery was forthwith advanced to the earldom of Derby, which honour he did not long enjoy, dying the following year, 1139, leaving Robert second earl.

William Fossard, son of Robert, was taken prisoner with Stephen at the battle of Lincoln. He left issue Joane, married to Robert de Turnham.

Ralph Hanselyn, descended from Goisfrid Alselin. He commanded the Nottinghamshire men in this battle, and resided principally at Shelford in that county. He left issue Rose, married to Thomas Bardulf.

Ilbert de Lacy, lord of Pontefract. He married Alice, daughter of Gilbert de Gant, and dying without issue, Henry his brother succeeded him.

Gilbert de Lacy, brother of the above. Hemingford and other historians inform us that he was the only knight slain.

William Peverell, son of Ranulph, had the castle of Nottingham given him by the Conqueror. He was taken prisoner with Stephen at the battle of Lincoln; his castle was given by the empress Maud to William Painell; but in the year following his soldiers recovered it by stratagem in the night. He was living in 1141.

William de Percy, son of Richard. He gave to the monks of Fountains two oxgangs of land, three to the monks of Whitby, and one to the monks of Bridlington. He married Adelidis de Tunebrige, and had issue four sons, Walter, Alan, Richard, and William; and two daughters, Maud and Agnes. His sons dying, Agnes, who married Joscelaine de Louvaine, younger son of Godfrey, duke of Brabant, eventually became sole heiress, and her husband assumed the name of Percy.

Robert de Stutevile, son of Robert, was sheriff of Yorkshire in 16 Henry II., and was engaged in the battle fought near Alnwick, 20 Henry II. He founded a monastery at Keldholme, another at Rosedale, and gave to the monks of St. Mary's Abbey, York, one carucate of land. He was succeeded by his son Robert, who gave large possessions to the monks of Rievaulx.

[10]In 1152, Scotland lost, says Sir Walter Scott, a treasure by the death of the inestimable prince Henry. He left by Ada, an English lady of quality, a family of three sons and as many daughters. In the subsequent year the venerable David followed his son. Having discharged all his duty as a man and a monarch, by settling his affairs as well as the early age of his grandchildren would permit, he was found dead, in an attitude of devotion, 24 May, 1153. He was succeeded by his grandson, Malcolm IV., then only twelve years of age.

[11]Stukeley's Palæographia Britannica, No.I.passim. Leland's Collectanea,I.54. See Ritson'sRobin Hood.

[12]Grafton's Chron. 85. Fordun, 774.

[13]Leland's Itinerary, v. 101.

[14]Sloane MS.

[15]He is supposed to have died about 1520, at the age of sixty.

[16]Little woods.

[17]Shrubs. "When the fields are in their beauty."

[18]Dream.

[19]Prepare.

[20]Get ready.

[21]Strong.

[22]Horse.

[23]Mischief.

[24]i. e. ways, paths. Gate is a common word in the north for "way."

[25]A slip of greensward between plough-lands, woods, &c.

[26]Woe, sorrow.

[27]Unsett steven—unlooked for time. Steven, see Glossary.

[28]Thorns, briars.

[29]Together.

[30]The title of "Sir" was not formerly peculiar to knights, it was given to priests, and sometimes to very inferior personages. Dr. Johnson thinks this title was applied to such as had taken the degree of A. B. in the universities.

[31]A little hill.

[32]Immediately, quickly.

[33]Confession.

[34]The above ballad is from an old black-letter copy in Anthony à Wood's collection, compared with two others in the British Museum. In 1557 certain "ballets" are entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, "to John Wallye and Mrs. Toye," one of which is entitled, "of wakefylde and a grene," meaning probably this ballad.

[35]Itineraries, 161.

[36]Willow.

[37]So called from their being tied up at night.

[38]"A. D. 1194, King Richard I. being a hunting in the forrest of Sherwood, did chase a hart out of the forrest of Sherwood into Barnesdale in Yorkshire, and because he could not there recover him, he made proclamation at Tickill in Yorkshire, and at divers other places, that no person should kill, hurt or chase the said hart, but that he might safely retorne into forrest againe; which hart was afterwards called, 'A hart royall proclaimed.'"—Manwood'sForest Laws.

[39]Itinerary, v. 101.

[40]Grafton, 85. Harl. MS. 1233. 367.

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