Communicated to Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, XI,
499, 1873, by Mr. J.P. Morris, as taken down by him from
the recitation of a woman nearly seventy years of age, at
Diversion, North Lancashire.
| 1 |
The king wrote a letter to my lord Derwentwater,
And he sealed it with gold;
He sent it to my Lord Derwentwater,
To read it if he could. |
| 2 |
He sent it by no boy,
He sent it by no slave,
But he sent it by as true a knight
As heart could wish or have. |
| 3 |
The very first line that he looked upon
Made him for to laugh and to smile;
The very next line that he looked upon,
The tears from his eyes did fall. |
| 4 |
He called to his stable-boy
To saddle his bonny grey steed,
'That I unto loving London
May ride away with speed.' |
| 5 |
'His wife heard him say so,
In childbed as she lay;
Says she, 'My lord Derwentwater,
Make thy will before thou goest away.' |
| 6 |
'It's to my little son I give
My houses and my land,
And to my little daughter
Ten thousand pounds in hand. |
| 7 |
'And unto thee, my lady gay,
Who is my wedded wife,
The third part of my estate thou shalt have,
To maintain thee through thy life.' |
| 8 |
He set his foot in the level stirrup,
And mounted his bonny grey steed;
The gold rings from his fingers did break,
And his nose began for to bleed. |
| 9 |
He had not ridden past a mile or two,
When his horse stumbled over a stone;
'These are tokens enough,' said my lord Derwentwater,
'That I shall never return.' |
| 10 |
He rode and he rode till he came to merry London,
And near to that famous hall;
The lords and knights of merry London,
They did him a traitor call. |
| 11 |
'A traitor! a traitor! a traitor!' he cried,
'A traitor! how can that be,
Unless it's for keeping five hundred men
For to fight for King Jamie?' |
| 12 |
It's up yon steps there stands a good old man,
With a broad axe in his hand;
Says he, 'Now, my lord Derwentwater,
Thy life's at my command.' |
| 13 |
'My life, my life, thou good old man,
My life I'll give to thee,
And the green coat of velvet on my back
Thou mayst take it for thy fee. |
| 14 |
'There's fifty pounds and five in my right pocket,
Give that unto the poor;
There's twenty pounds and five in my left pocket,
Deal that from door to door.' |
| 15 |
Then he laid his head on the fatal block,
* * * * * |
