{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15618/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15618","id":"gutenberg_15618","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15618","summary":null,"tags":["Ballads, English","Category: British Literature","Category: Humour","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","English poetry"],"text":"E-text prepared by Jason Isbell, Ben Beasley, and the Project Gutenberg\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\nNote: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which\n      includes the original illustrations and sound files of the music.\n      See 15618-h.htm or 15618-h.zip:\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/6/1/15618/15618-h/15618-h.htm)\n      or\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/6/1/15618/15618-h.zip)\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOVING BALLAD OF LORD BATEMAN.\n\nILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.\n\nLondon\nCharles Tilt, Fleet Street\nand Mustapha Syried, Constantinople\n\nMDCCCXXXIX\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWarning to the Public\n\nCONCERNING\n\nTHE LOVING BALLAD OF LORD BATEMAN.\n\n\nIn some collection of old English Ballads there is an ancient ditty which\nI am told bears some remote and distant resemblance to the following Epic\nPoem. I beg to quote the emphatic language of my estimable friend (if he\nwill allow me to call him so), the Black Bear in Piccadilly, and to assure\nall to whom these presents may come, that \"_I_ am the original.\" This\naffecting legend is given in the following pages precisely as I have\nfrequently heard it sung on Saturday nights, outside a house of general\nrefreshment (familiarly termed a wine vaults) at Battle-bridge. The singer\nis a young gentleman who can scarcely have numbered nineteen summers,\nand who before his last visit to the treadmill, where he was erroneously\nincarcerated for six months as a vagrant (being unfortunately mistaken\nfor another gentleman), had a very melodious and plaintive tone of voice,\nwhich, though it is now somewhat impaired by gruel and such a getting up\nstairs for so long a period, I hope shortly to find restored. I have taken\ndown the words from his own mouth at different periods, and have been\ncareful to preserve his pronunciation, together with the air to which he\ndoes so much justice. Of his execution of it, however, and the intense\nmelancholy which he communicates to such passages of the song as are most\nsusceptible of such an expression, I am unfortunately unable to convey to\nthe reader an adequate idea, though I may hint that the effect seems to me\nto be in part produced by the long and mournful drawl on the last two or\nthree words of each verse.\n\nI had intended to have dedicated my imperfect illustrations of this\nbeautiful Romance to the young gentleman in question. As I cannot find,\nhowever, that he is known among his friends by any other name than\n\"The Tripe-skewer,\" which I cannot but consider as a _soubriquet_, or\nnick-name; and as I feel that it would be neither respectful nor proper\nto address him publicly by that title, I have been compelled to forego the\npleasure. If this should meet his eye, will he pardon my humble attempt to\nembellish with the pencil the sweet ideas to which he gives such feeling\nutterance? And will he believe me to remain his devoted admirer,\n\n                              GEORGE CRUIKSHANK?\n\nP.S.--The above is not my writing, nor the notes either, nor am I on\nfamiliar terms (but quite the contrary) with the Black Bear. Nevertheless\nI admit the accuracy of the statement relative to the public singer whose\nname is unknown, and concur generally in the sentiments above expressed\nrelative to him.\n\n[Illustration: (signature: George Cruikshank)]\n\n[Illustration: Musical Score]\n\n\n\n\nThe Loving Ballad Of Lord Bateman.\n\n\n    I.\n\n    Lord Bateman vos a noble Lord,\n      A noble Lord of high degree;\n    He shipped his-self all aboard of a ship,\n      Some foreign country for to see.[1]\n\nFor the notes to this beautiful Poem, see the end of the work.\n\n[Illustration: Lord Bateman as he appeared previous to his embarkation.]\n\n[Illustration: The Turk's only daughter approaches to mitigate the\nsufferings of Lord Bateman!--]\n\n    II.\n\n    He sail-ed east, he sail-ed vest,\n      Until he come to famed Tur-key,\n    Vere he vos taken, and put to prisin,\n      Until his life was quite wea-ry.\n\n\n    III.\n\n    All in this prisin there grew a tree,\n      O! there it grew so stout and strong,\n    Vere he vos chain-ed all by the middle\n      Until his life vos almost gone.\n\n[Illustration: The Turk's daughter expresses a wish as Lord Bateman was\nhers.]\n\n    IV.\n\n    This Turk[2] he had one ounly darter,\n      The fairest my two eyes e'er see,\n    She steele the keys of her father's prisin,\n      And swore Lord Bateman she would let go free.\n\n\n    V.\n\n    O she took him to her father's cellar,\n      And guv to him the best of vine;\n    And ev'ry holth she dronk unto him,\n      Vos, \"I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!\"[3]\n\n[Illustration: The \"WOW.\"]\n\n    VI.\n\n    \"O have you got houses, have you got land,\n      And does Northumberland belong to thee?\n    And what would you give to the fair young lady\n      As out of prisin would let you go free?\"\n\n\n    VII.\n\n    \"O I've got houses, and I've got land,\n      And half Northumberland belongs to me;\n    And I vill give it all to the fair young lady\n      As out of prisin vould let me go free.\"\n\n[Illustration: The Turk's daughter, bidding his Lordship farewell, is\nimpressed with a foreboding that she will see him no more!--]\n\n    VIII.\n\n    \"O in sevin long years, I'll make a wow\n      For sevin long years, and keep it strong,[4]\n    That if you'll ved no other voman,\n     O I vill v-e-ed no other man.\"\n\n\n    IX.\n\n    O She took him to her father's harbour,\n      And guv to him a ship of fame,\n    Saying, \"Farevell, Farevell to you, Lord Bateman,\n      I fear I ne-e-ever shall see you agen.\"\n\n[Illustration: The Proud young Porter answers the door--]\n\n    X.\n\n    Now sevin long years is gone and past,\n      And fourteen days vell known to me;[5]\n    She packed up all her gay clouthing,\n      And swore Lord Bateman she would go see.\n\n\n    XI.\n\n    O ven she arrived at Lord Bateman's castle,\n      How bouldly then she rang the bell,\n    \"Who's there! who's there!\" cries the proud young porter,\n      \"O come, unto me pray quickly tell.\"\n\n[Illustration: The Proud young Porter in Lord Bateman's State Apartment]\n\n    XII.\n\n    \"O! is this here Lord Bateman's castle,\n      And is his lordship here vithin?\"\n    \"O Yes! O yes!\" cries the proud young porter;\n      \"He's just now takin' his young bride in.\"\n\n\n    XIII.\n\n    \"O! bid him to send me a slice of bread,\n      And a bottle of the wery best vine,\n    And not forgettin' the fair young lady\n      As did release him ven close confine.\"\n\n[Illustration: The young bride's Mother is heard (for the first time) to\nspeak freely]\n\n    XIV.\n\n    O! avay and avay vent this proud young porter,\n      O! avay and avay and avay vent he,[6]\n    Until he come to Lord Bateman's charmber,\n      Ven he vent down on his bended knee.\n\n\n    XV.\n\n    \"Vot news, vot news, my proud young porter,[7]\n      Vot news, vot news, come tell to me?\"\n    \"O there is the fairest young lady\n      As ever my two eyes did see.\n\n[Illustration: The young bride comes on a horse and saddle]\n\n    XVI.\n\n    \"She has got rings on ev'ry finger,\n      And on one finger she has got three:\n    Vith as much gay gould about her middle\n      As would buy half Northumberlee.\n\n\n    XVII.\n\n    \"O she bids you to send her a slice of bread\n      And a bottle of the wery best vine,\n    And not forgettin' the fair young lady\n      As did release you ven close confine.\"\n\n[Illustration:--And goes home in a coach and three----]\n\n    XVIII.\n\n    Lord Bateman then in passion flew,\n      And broke his sword in splinters three,[8]\n    Saying, \"I vill give half my father's land\n      If so be as Sophia[9] has crossed the sea.\"\n\n\n    XIX.\n\n    Then up and spoke this young bride's mother,\n      Who never vos heerd to speak so free:[10]\n    Sayin, \"You'll not forget my ounly darter,\n      If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.\"\n\n[Illustration: Lord Bateman, his other bride, and his favorite domestic,\nwith all their hearts so full of glee.]\n\n    XX.\n\n    \"O it's true I made a bride of your darter,\n      But she's neither the better nor the vorse for me;\n    She came to me with a horse and saddle,\n      But she may go home in a coach and three.\"\n\n\n    XXI.\n\n    Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage,\n      With both their hearts so full of glee,\n    Saying, \"I vill roam no more to foreign countries\n      Now that Sophia has crossed the sea.\"[11]\n\n\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\n[Footnote 1:\n\n    _Some foreign country for to see._\n\nThe reader is here in six words artfully made acquainted with Lord\nBateman's character and temperament.--Of a roving, wandering, and unsettled\nspirit, his Lordship left his native country, bound he knew not whither.\n_Some_ foreign country he wished to see, and that was the extent of his\ndesire; any foreign country would answer his purpose--all foreign countries\nwere alike to him. He was a citizen of the world, and upon the world of\nwaters, sustained by the daring and reckless impulses of his heart, he\nboldly launched. For anything, from pitch-and-toss upwards to manslaughter,\nhis Lordship was prepared. Lord Bateman's character at this time, and his\nexpedition, would appear to Have borne a striking resemblance to those of\nLord Byron.\n\n    His goblets brimmed with every costly wine,\n    And all that mote to luxury invite.\n    Without a sigh he left to cross the brine,\n    And traverse Paynim shores, and pass earth's central line.\n\nCHILDE HAROLD, CANTO I.]\n\n[Footnote 2:\n\n    _This Turk he had, &c._\n\nThe poet has here, by that bold license which only genius can venture upon,\nsurmounted the extreme difficulty of introducing any particular Turk, by\nassuming a fore-gone conclusion in the reader's mind, and adverting in a\ncasual, careless way to a Turk unknown, as to an old acquaintance. \"_This_\nTurk he had--\" We have heard of no Turk before, and yet this familiar\nintroduction satisfies us at once that we know him well. He was a pirate,\nno doubt, of a cruel and savage disposition, entertaining a hatred of the\nChristian race, and accustomed to garnish his trees and vines with such\nstray professors of Christianity as happened to fall into his hands. \"This\nTurk he had--\" is a master-stroke--a truly Shakspearian touch. There are\nfew things like it in the language.]\n\n[Footnote 3:\n\n    _And every holth she drunk unto him\n    Vos, \"I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!\"_\n\nA most affecting illustration of the sweetest simplicity, the purest\nartlessness, and holiest affections of woman's gentle nature. Bred up among\nthe rough and savage crowds which thronged her father's lawless halls, and\nmeeting with no responsive or kindred spirit among those fierce barbarians\n(many of whom, however, touched by her surpassing charms, though insensible\nto her virtues and mental endowments, had vainly sought her hand in\nmarriage), this young creature had spent the greater part of her life in\nthe solitude of her own apartments, or in contemplating the charms of\nnature arrayed in all the luxury of eastern voluptuousness. At length she\nhears from an aged and garrulous attendant, her only female adviser (for\nher mother died when she was yet an infant), of the sorrows and sufferings\nof the Christian captive. Urged by pity and womanly sympathy, she repairs\nto his prison to succour and console him. She supports his feeble and\ntottering steps to her father's cellar, recruits his exhausted frame with\ncopious draughts of sparkling wine, and when his dim eye brightens, and his\npale cheek becomes flushed with the glow of returning health and animation,\nshe--unaccustomed to disguise or concealment, and being by nature all\nopenness and truth--gives vent to the feelings which now thrill her maiden\nheart for the first time, in the rich gush of unspeakable love, tenderness,\nand devotion--\n\n    I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!]\n\n[Footnote 4:\n\n    _Oh, in sevin long years I'll make a wow,\n    I'll make a wow, and I'll keep it strong_.\n\nLove has converted the tender girl into a majestic heroine; she cannot only\nmake \"a wow,\" but she can \"keep it strong;\" she feels all the dignity of\ntruth and love swelling in her bosom. With the view of possessing herself\nof the real state of Lord Bateman's affections, and with no sordid or\nmercenary motives, she has enquired of that nobleman what are his means of\nsubsistence, and whether _all_ Northumberland belongs to him. His Lordship\nhas rejoined, with a noble regard for truth, that _half_ Northumberland is\nhis, and that he will give it freely to the fair young lady who will\nrelease him from his dungeon. She, being thus assured of his regard and\nesteem, rejects all idea of pecuniary reward, and offers to be a party to a\nsolemn wow--to be kept strong on both sides--that, if for seven years he\nwill remain a bachelor, she, for the like period, will remain a maid. The\ncontract is made, and the lovers are solemnly contracted.]\n\n[Footnote 5:\n\n    _Now sevin long years is gone and past,\n    And fourteen days vell known to me._\n\nIn this may be recognised, though in a minor degree, the same gifted hand\nthat portrayed the Mussulman, the pirate, the father, and the bigot, in two\nwords. The time is gone, the historian knows it, and that is enough for the\nreader. This is the dignity of history very strikingly exemplified.]\n\n[Footnote 6:\n\n    _Avay and avay vent this proud young porter,\n    Avay and avay and avay vent he._\n\nNothing perhaps could be more ingeniously contrived to express the vastness\nof Lord Bateman's family mansion than this remarkable passage. The proud\nyoung porter had to thread courts, corridors, galleries, and staircases\ninnumerable, before he could penetrate to those exquisite apartments in\nwhich Lord Bateman was wont to solace his leisure hours, with the most\nrefined pleasures of his time. We behold him hastening to the presence of\nhis lord: the repetition of the word \"avay\" causes us to feel the speed\nwith which he hastens--at length he arrives. Does he appear before the\nchief with indecent haste? Is he described as rushing madly into his\npresence to impart his message? No! a different atmosphere surrounds that\nremarkable man. Even this proud young porter is checked in his impetuous\ncareer which lasted only\n\n    _Until_ he came to Lord Bateman's chamber,\n    Vere he vent down on his bended knee.\n\nLord Bateman's eye is upon him, and he quails.]\n\n[Footnote 7:\n\n    _Vot news! vot news! my proud young porter?_\n\nA pleasant condescension on the part of his lordship, showing that he\nrecognised the stately youth, and no less stately pride of office which\ncharacterized his follower, and that he was acquainted with the\ndistinguishing appellation which he appears to have borne in the family.]\n\n[Footnote 8:\n\n    _And broke his sword in splinters three._\n\nExemplifying, in a highly poetical and striking manner, the force of Lord\nBateman's love, which he would seem to have kept strong as his \"wow.\" We\nhave beheld him patient in confinement, descending to no base murmurings\nagainst fortune, even when chained by the middle to a tree, with the\nprospect of ending his days in that ignominious and unpleasant position. He\nhas borne all this and a great deal more, seven years and a fortnight have\nelapsed, and, at last, on the mere mention of the fair young lady, he falls\ninto a perfect phrenzy, and breaks his sword, the faithful partner and\ncompanion of his glory, into three splinters. Antiquarians differ\nrespecting the intent and meaning of this ceremony, which has been\nconstrued and interpreted in many different ways. The strong probability is\nthat it was done \"for luck;\" and yet Lord Bateman should have been superior\nto the prejudices of the vulgar.]\n\n[Footnote 9:\n\n    _If my own Sophia._\n\nSo called doubtless from the mosque of St. Sophia, at Constantinople; her\nfather having professed the Mahomedan religion.]\n\n[Footnote 10:\n\n    _Then up and spoke this young bride's mother,\n    Who never vos heerd to speak so free._\n\nThis is an exquisite touch of nature, which most married men, whether of\nnoble or plebeian blood, will quickly recognise. During the whole of her\ndaughter's courtship, the good old lady had scarcely spoken, save by\nexpressive smiles and looks of approval. But now that her object is gained,\nand her daughter fast married (as she thinks), she suddenly assumes quite a\nnew tone, \"and never was heerd to speak so free.\" It would be difficult for\npoetry to comprehend any thing more strictly true and life-like than this.]\n\n[Footnote 11:\n\n    _With both their hearts so full of glee._\n\nIf any thing could add to the grace and beauty of the poem, it would be\nthis most satisfactory and agreeable conclusion. At the time of the foreign\nlady's arrival on the shores of England, we find Lord Bateman in the\ndisagreeable dilemma of having contracted another marriage; to which step\nhis lordship has doubtless been impelled by despair of ever recovering his\nlost Sophia, and a natural anxiety not to die without leaving an heir to\nhis estate. The ceremony has been performed, the Church has done its\noffice, the bride and her mamma have taken possession of the castle, when\nthe lost Sophia suddenly presents herself. An ordinary man would have been\noverwhelmed by such a complication of perplexities--not so Lord Bateman.\nMaster of the human heart, he appeals to feminine ambition and love of\ndisplay; and, reminding the young lady that she came to him on a saddle\nhorse (with her revered parent following no doubt on foot behind), offers\nto bestow upon her a coach and three. The young lady closes with the\nproposition; her august mother, having brought it about by her freedom of\nspeech, makes no objection; Lord Bateman, being a nobleman of great power,\nand having plenty of superfluous wealth to bestow upon the Church, orders\nanother marriage, and boldly declares the first one to be a nullity.\nThereupon \"another marriage\" is immediately prepared, and the piece closes\nwith a picture of general happiness and hilarity.]","title":"The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2936}