X.

THE BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER OF BEDNALL-GREEN.

This popular old ballad was written in the reign of Elizabeth, as appears not only from ver. 23, where the arms of England are called the "Queenes armes;" but from its tune's being quoted in other old pieces, written in her time. See the ballad on _Mary Ambree_ in this volume. The late Mr. Guthrie assured the editor that he had formerly seen another old song on the same subject, composed in a different measure from this; which was truly beautiful, if we may judge from the only stanza he remembered. In this it was said of the old beggar, that "down his neck

"----his reverend lockes In comelye curles did wave; And on his aged temples grewe The blossomes of the grave."

The following ballad is chiefly given from the Editor's folio MS. compared with two ancient printed copies: the concluding stanzas, which contain the old beggar's discovery of himself, are not however given from any of these, being very different from those of the vulgar ballad. Nor yet does the Editor offer them as genuine, but as a modern attempt to remove the absurdities and inconsistencies, which so remarkably prevailed in this part of the song, as it stood before: whereas by the alteration of a few lines, the story is rendered much more affecting, and is reconciled to probability and true history. For this informs us, that at the decisive battle of Evesham (fought Aug. 4, 1265), when Simon de Montfort, the great Earl of Leicester, was slain at the head of the barons, his eldest son Henry fell by his side, and in consequence of that defeat, his whole family sunk for ever, the king bestowing their great honours and possessions on his second son, Edmund earl of Lancaster.

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[This charming old ballad has enjoyed a long life of popularity, and according to Mr. Chappell it is still kept in print in Seven Dials, and sung about the country. As it is to be found in most collections, it has not been thought necessary to take note of the various trifling alterations which Percy made, but the six stanzas which he ejected in favour of the eight between brackets are printed at the end. A few of the alterations are improvements, but most of them are the reverse; thus, in place of the received reading of verse 28,

"Was straightway in love with pretty Bessee,"

Percy prints

"Was straightway enamourd of pretty Bessee."

Mr. John Pickford (_Notes and Queries_, 4th Series, vol. ix. p. 64) once possessed an old mezzotint engraving of the Blind Beggar of a large folio size, on the margin of which were inscribed the lines referred to above. In Robert Greene's _Pandosto_ (1588), from which Shakspere drew the plot of his _Winter's Tale_, there is the same simile as is used in these verses. Egistus says:--"Thou seest my white hayres are blossomes for the grave."

Pepys in his Diary (25th June, 1663), speaks of going to dinner with Sir William and Lady Batten and Sir J. Minnes to Sir William Ryder's at Bethnall Green, and adds: "This very house was built by the blind beggar of Bednall Green, so much talked of and sang in ballads, but they say it was only some outhouse of it." The mansion was built by John Kirby, a citizen of London, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and afterwards became the residence of Sir Hugh Platt, author of _The Jewell House of Art and Nature_, 1594; _The Garden of Eden_, &c. Ryder died there in 1669.]

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PART THE FIRST.

Itt was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight, He had a faire daughter of bewty most bright; And many a gallant brave suiter had shee, For none was soe comelye as pretty Bessee.

And though shee was of favor most faire, 5 Yett seeing shee was but a poor beggars heyre, Of ancyent housekeepers despised was shee, Whose sonnes came as suitors to prettye Bessee.

Wherefore in great sorrow faire Bessy did say, Good father, and mother, let me goe away 10 To seeke out my fortune, whatever itt bee. This suite then they granted to prettye Bessee.

Then Bessy, that was of bewtye soe bright, All cladd in gray russett, and late in the night From father and mother alone parted shee; 15 Who sighed and sobbed for prettye Bessee.

Shee went till shee came to Stratford-le-Bow; Then knew shee not whither, nor which way to goe: With teares shee lamented her hard destinìe, So sadd and soe heavy was pretty Bessee. 20

Shee kept on her journey untill it was day, And went unto Rumford along the hye way; Where at the Queenes armes entertained was shee: Soe faire and wel favoured was pretty Bessee.

Shee had not beene there a month to an end, 25 But master and mistres and all was her friend: And every brave gallant, that once did her see, Was straight-way enamourd of pretty Bessee.

Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold, And in their songs daylye her love was extold; 30 Her beawtye was blazed in every degree; Soe faire and soe comelye was pretty Bessee.

The young men of Rumford in her had their joy; Shee shewed herself curteous, and modestlye coye; And at her commandment still wold they bee; 35 Soe fayre and soe comlye was pretty Bessee.

Foure suitors att once unto her did goe; They craved her favor, but still she sayd noe; I wold not wish gentles to marry with mee. Yett ever they honored prettye Bessee. 40

The first of them was a gallant young knight, And he came unto her disguisde in the night: The second a gentleman of good degree, Who wooed and sued for prettye Bessee.

A merchant of London, whose wealth was not small, 45 He was the third suiter, and proper withall: Her masters own sonne the fourth man must bee, Who swore he would dye for pretty Bessee.

And, if thou wilt marry with mee, quoth the knight, Ile make thee a ladye with joy and delight; 50 My hart's so inthralled by thy bewtìe, That soone I shall dye for prettye Bessee.

The gentleman sayd, Come, marry with mee, As fine as a ladye my Bessy shal bee: My life is distressed: O heare me, quoth hee; 55 And grant me thy love, my prettye Bessee.

Let me bee thy husband, the merchant cold say, Thou shalt live in London both gallant and gay; My shippes shall bring home rych jewells for thee, And I will for ever love pretty Bessee. 60

Then Bessy shee sighed, and thus shee did say, My father and mother I meane to obey; First gett their good will, and be faithfull to mee, And you shall enjoye your prettye Bessee.

To every one this answer shee made, 65 Wherfore unto her they joyfullye sayd, This thing to fulfill wee all doe agree; But where dwells thy father, my prettye Bessee?

My father, shee said, is soone to be seene: The seely blind beggar of Bednall-greene, 70 That daylye sits begging for charitìe, He is the good father of pretty Bessee.

His markes and his tokens are knowen very well; He alwayes is led with a dogg and a bell: A seely olde man, God knoweth, is hee, 75 Yett hee is the father of pretty Bessee.

Nay then, quoth the merchant, thou art not for mee: Nor, quoth the innholder, my wiffe thou shalt bee: I lothe, sayd the gentle, a beggars degree, And therefore, adewe, my pretty Bessee! 80

Why then, quoth the knight, hap better or worse, I waighe not true love by the waight of the pursse, And bewtye is bewtye in every degree; Then welcome unto me, my pretty Bessee.

With thee to thy father forthwith I will goe. 85 Nay soft, quoth his kinsmen, it must not be soe; A poor beggars daughter noe ladye shal bee, Then take thy adew of pretty Bessee.

But soone after this, by breake of the day The knight had from Rumford stole Bessy away. 90 The younge men of Rumford, as thicke [as] might bee, Rode after to feitch againe pretty Bessee.

As swifte as the winde to ryde they were seene, Untill they came neare unto Bednall-greene; And as the knight lighted most courteouslìe, 95 They all fought against him for pretty Bessee.

But rescew came speedilye over the plaine, Or else the young knight for his love had been slaine. This fray being ended, then straitway he see His kinsmen come rayling at pretty Bessee. 100

Then spake the blind beggar, Although I bee poore, Yett rayle not against my child at my own doore: Though shee be not decked in velvett and pearle, Yett will I dropp angells with you for my girle.

And then, if my gold may better her birthe, 105 And equall the gold that you lay on the earth, Then neyther rayle nor grudge you to see The blind beggars daughter a lady to bee.

But first you shall promise, and have itt well knowne, The gold that you drop shall all be your owne. 110 With that they replyed, Contented bee wee. Then here's, quoth the beggar, for pretty Bessee.

With that an angell he cast on the ground, And dropped in angels full three thousand[571] pound; And oftentimes itt was proved most plaine, 115 For the gentlemens one the beggar dropt twayne:

Soe that the place, wherin they did sitt, With gold it was covered every whitt. The gentlemen then having dropt all their store, Sayd, Now, beggar, hold, for wee have noe more. 120

Thou hast fulfilled thy promise arright. Then marry, quoth he, my girle to this knight; And heere, added hee, I will now throwe you downe A hundred pounds more to buy her a gowne.

The gentlemen all, that this treasure had seene, 125 Admired the beggar of Bednall-greene: And all those, that were her suitors before, Their fleshe for very anger they tore.

Thus was faire Besse matched to the knight, And then made a ladye in others despite: 130 A fairer ladye there never was seene, Than the blind beggars daughter of Bednall-greene.

But of their sumptuous marriage and feast, What brave lords and knights thither were prest, The second fitt[572] shall set forth to your sight 135 With marveilous pleasure, and wished delight.

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PART THE SECOND.

Off a blind beggars daughter most bright, That late was betrothed unto a younge knight; All the discourse therof you did see; But now comes the wedding of pretty Bessee.

Within a gorgeous palace most brave, 5 Adorned with all the cost they cold have, This wedding was kept most sumptuouslìe, And all for the creditt of pretty Bessee.

All kind of dainties, and delicates sweete Were bought for the banquet, as it was most meete; 10 Partridge, and plover, and venison most free, Against the brave wedding of pretty Bessee.

This marriage through England was spread by report, Soe that a great number therto did resort Of nobles and gentles in every degree; 15 And all for the fame of prettye Bessee.

To church then went this gallant younge knight; His bride followed after, an angell most bright, With troopes of ladyes, the like nere was seene As went with sweete Bessy of Bednall-greene. 20

This marryage being solempnized then, With musicke performed by the skilfullest men, The nobles and gentles sate downe at that tyde, Each one admiring the beautifull bryde.

Now, after the sumptuous dinner was done, 25 To talke, and to reason a number begunn: They talkt of the blind beggars daughter most bright, And what with his daughter he gave to the knight.

Then spake the nobles, "Much marveil have wee, This jolly blind beggar wee cannot here see." 30 My lords, quoth the bride, my father's so base, He is loth with his presence these states to disgrace.

"The prayse of a woman in questyon to bringe Before her own face, were a flattering thinge; But wee thinke thy father's baseness," quoth they, 35 "Might by thy bewtye be cleane put awaye."

They had noe sooner these pleasant words spoke, But in comes the beggar cladd in a silke cloke; A faire velvet capp, and a fether had hee, And now a musicyan forsooth he wold bee. 40

He had a daintye lute under his arme, He touched the strings, which made such a charme, Saies, Please you to heare any musicke of mee, Ile sing you a song of pretty Bessee.

With that his lute he twanged straightway, 45 And thereon begann most sweetlye to play; And after that lessons were playd two or three, He strayn'd out this song most delicatelìe.

"A poore beggars daughter did dwell on a greene, Who for her fairenesse might well be a queene: 50 A blithe bonny lasse, and a daintye was shee, And many one called her pretty Bessee.

"Her father hee had noe goods, nor noe land. But beggd for a penny all day with his hand; And yett to her marriage hee gave thousands three,[573] 55 And still he hath somewhat for pretty Bessee.

"And if any one here her birth doe disdaine, Her father is ready, with might and with maine, To proove shee is come of noble degree: Therfore never flout att prettye Bessee." 60

With that the lords and the companye round With harty laughter were readye to swound; Att last said the lords, Full well wee may see, The bride and the beggar's behoulden to thee.

On this the bride all blushing did rise, 65 The pearlie dropps standing within her faire eyes, O pardon my father, grave nobles, quoth shee, That throughe blind affection thus doteth on mee.

If this be thy father, the nobles did say, Well may he be proud of this happy day; 70 Yett by his countenance well may wee see, His birth and his fortune did never agree:

And therfore, blind man, we pray thee bewray, (And looke that the truth thou to us doe say) Thy birth and thy parentage, what itt may bee; 75 For the love that thou bearest to pretty Bessee."

"Then give me leave, nobles and gentles, each one, One song more to sing, and then I have done; And if that itt may not winn good report, Then doe not give me a _groat_ for my sport. 80

"[Sir Simon de Montfort my subject shal bee; Once chiefe of all the great barons was hee, Yet fortune so cruelle this lorde did abase, Now loste and forgotten are hee and his race.

"When the barons in armes did king Henrye oppose, Sir Simon de Montfort their leader they chose; 86 A leader of courage undaunted was hee, And oft-times he made their enemyes flee.

"At length in the battle on Eveshame plaine[574] The barons were routed, and Montfort was slaine; 90 Moste fatall that battel did prove unto thee, Thoughe thou wast not borne then, my prettye Bessee!

"Along with the nobles, that fell at that tyde, His eldest son Henrye, who fought by his side, Was fellde by a blowe, he receivde in the fight! 95 A blowe that deprivde him for ever of sight.

"Among the dead bodyes all lifelesse he laye, Till evening drewe on of the following daye, When by a yong ladye discoverd was hee; And this was thy mother, my prettye Bessee! 100

"A baron's faire daughter stept forth in the nighte To search for her father, who fell in the fight, And seeing yong Montfort, where gasping he laye, Was moved with pitye, and brought him awaye.

"In secrette she nurst him, and swaged his paine, 105 While he throughe the realme was beleevd to be slaine: At lengthe his faire bride she consented to bee, And made him glad father of prettye Bessee.

"And nowe lest oure foes our lives sholde betraye, We clothed ourselves in beggars arraye; 110 Her jewelles shee solde, and hither came wee: All our comfort and care was our prettye Bessee.]

"And here have wee lived in fortunes despite, Thoughe poore, yet contented with humble delighte: Full forty winters thus have I beene 115 A silly blind beggar of Bednall-greene.

"And here, noble lordes, is ended the song Of one, that once to your own ranke did belong: And thus have you learned a secrette from mee, That ne'er had beene knowne, but for prettye Bessee." 120

Now when the faire companye everye one, Had heard the strange tale in the song he had showne, They all were amazed, as well they might bee, Both at the blinde beggar, and pretty Bessee.

With that the faire bride they all did embrace, 125 Saying, Sure thou art come of an honourable race, Thy father likewise is of noble degree, And thou art well worthy a lady to bee.

Thus was the feast ended with joye and delighte, A bridegroome most happy then was the young knighte, 130 In joy and felicitie long lived hee, All with his faire ladye, the pretty Bessee.

[***]

[Illustration]

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[The following stanzas (ll. 217-240 of the whole ballad), were rejected by Percy in favour of the verses above which are between brackets, and were written by Robert Dodsley, the bookseller and author:--

"When ffirst our king his ffame did Advance, & fought for his title in delicate ffrance, in many a place many perills past hee: then was not borne my pretty Bessye.

"And then in those warres went over to fight many a braue duke, a Lo_rd_, & a K_nigh_t, & w_i_th them younge Mountford, his courage most free: but then was not borne my pretty Bessye.

"Att Bloyes there chanced a terrible day, where many braue ffrenchmen vpon the ground Lay; amonge them Lay Mountford for companye: but then was not borne my pretty Bessye.[575]

"But there did younge Mountford, by blow on the face, loose both his eyes in a very short space; & alsoe his liffe had beene gone w_i_th his sight, had not a younge woman come forth in the night

"Amongst the slaine men, as fancy did moue, to search & to seeke for her owne true loue; & seeing young Mountford there gasping to bee, shee saued his liffe through charitye.

"And then all our vittalls, in Beggar attire att hands of good people wee then did require. att last into England, as now it is seene, wee came, & remained att Bednall greene."[576]

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[+±+] The word _fit_ for _part_, often occurs in our ancient ballads and metrical romances: which being divided into several parts for the convenience of singing them at public entertainments, were in the intervals of the feast sung by fits, or intermissions. So Puttenham in his _Art of English Poesie_, 1589, says: "the Epithalamie was divided by breaches into three partes to serve for three several fits, or times to be sung." P. 41.

From the same writer we learn some curious particulars relative to the state of ballad-singing in that age, that will throw light on the present subject: speaking of the quick returns of one manner of tune in the short measures used by common rhymers; these, he says, "glut the eare, unless it be in small and popular musickes, sung by these Cantabanqui, upon benches and barrels heads, where they have none other audience then boys or countrey fellowes, that passe by them in the streete; or else by _blind harpers_, or such like taverne minstrels, that give a _fit_ of mirth for a _groat_, ... their matter being for the most part stories of old time, as the tale of _Sir Topas_, the reportes of _Bevis of Southampton_, _Guy of Warwicke_, _Adam Bell and Clymme of the Clough_, and such other old romances or historical rimes, made purposely for recreation of the common people at Christmasse dinners and brideales, and in tavernes and alehouses, and such other places of base resorte." P. 69.

This species of entertainment, which seems to have been handed down from the ancient bards, was in the time of Puttenham falling into neglect; but that it was not, even then, wholly excluded from more genteel assemblies, he gives us room to infer from another passage: "We ourselves," says this courtly[577] writer, "have written for pleasure a little brief romance, or historical ditty in the English tong of the _Isle of Great Britaine_ in short and long meetres, and by breaches or divisions (_i.e._ fits), to be more commodiously sung to the harpe in places of assembly, where the company shal be desirous to heare of old adventures, and valiaunces of noble knights in times past, as are those of _King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table_, _Sir Bevys of Southampton_, _Guy of Warwicke_, and others like." P. 33.

In more ancient times no grand scene of festivity was compleat without one of these reciters to entertain the company with feats of arms, and tales of knighthood, or, as one of these old minstrels says, in the beginning of an ancient romance on _Guy and Colbronde_, in the Editor's folio MS. p. 349 [ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii., p. 527]:

"When meate and drinke is great plentyè, And lords and ladyes still wil bee, And sitt and solace lythe;[578] Then itt is time for mee to speake Of keene knightes, and kempès great, Such carping for to kythe."

If we consider that a _groat_ in the age of Elizabeth was more than equivalent to a shilling now, we shall find that the old harpers were even then, when their art was on the decline, upon a far more reputable footing than the ballad-singers of our time. The reciting of one such ballad as this of the _Beggar of Bednal Green_, in two parts, was rewarded with half-a-crown of our money. And that they made a very respectable appearance, we may learn from the dress of the old beggar, in the preceding ballad, p. 178, where he comes into company in the habit and character of one of these minstrels, being not known to be the bride's father till after her speech, ver. 63. The exordium of his song, and his claiming a groat for his reward, v. 76, are peculiarly characteristic of that profession. Most of the old ballads begin in a pompous manner, in order to captivate the attention of the audience, and induce them to purchase a recital of the song: and they seldom conclude the first part without large promises of still greater entertainment in the second. This was a necessary piece of art to incline the hearers to be at the expense of a second groat's-worth. Many of the old romances extend to eight or nine fits, which would afford a considerable profit to the reciter.

To return to the word _fit_; it seems at one time to have peculiarly signified the pause, or breathing-time, between the several parts (answering to Passus in the _Visions of Pierce Plowman_): thus in the ancient ballad of _Chevy-Chase_ (vol. i. p. 27), the first part ends with this line:

"The first _fit_ here I fynde:"

_i.e._ here I come to the first pause or intermission. (See also vol. i. p. 44.) By degrees it came to signify the whole part or division preceding the pause. (See vol. i. pp. 162, 169.) This sense it had obtained so early as the time of Chaucer; who thus concludes the first part of his rhyme of _Sir Thopas_ (writ in ridicule of the old ballad romances):--

"Lo! lordis mine, here is a _fitt_; If ye woll any more of it, To tell it woll I fonde."

The word _fit_ indeed appears originally to have signified a poetic strain, verse, or poem; for in these senses it is used by the Anglo-Saxon writers. Thus K. Ælfred in his _Boethius_, having given a version of lib. 3, metr. 5, adds, [Uncial: Ða [is]e p[i][is][id]om þa þa[is] [if][i][it][it]e a[is]un[gh]en hæ[if][id]e], p. 65, _i.e._ "When wisdom had sung these (Fitts) verses." And in the proem to the same book, [Uncial: Fon on [if][i][it][it]e], "Put into (fitt) verse." So in Cedmon, p. 45. [Uncial: Feon[id] on [if][i][it][it]e], seems to mean "composed a song," or "poem." The reader will trace this old Saxon phrase, in the application of the word _fond_, in the foregoing passage of Chaucer.

Spencer has used the word fit to denote "a strain of music;" see his poem, intitled, _Collin Clout's come home again_, where he says:--

"The Shepherd of the ocean [Sir Walt. Raleigh] Provoked me to play some pleasant _fit_. And when he heard the music which I made He found himself full greatlye pleas'd at it," &c.

It is also used in the old ballad of _K. Estmere_, vol. i. book 1, No. 6, v. 243.

From being applied to music, this word was easily transferred to dancing; thus in the old play of _Lusty Juventus_ (described in preliminary note to book 2, No. 1 in this volume), Juventus says:

"By the masse I would fayne go daunce a _fitte_."

And from being used as a part or division in a ballad, poem, &c. it is applied by Bale to a section or chapter in a book (though I believe in a sense of ridicule or sarcasm), for thus he intitles two chapters of his _English Votaryes_, part 2nd, viz. fol. 49, "The fyrst _fytt_ of Anselme with Kynge Wyllyam Rufus;" fol. 50, "An other _Fytt_ of Anselme with kynge Wyllyam Rufus."

FOOTNOTES:

[571] In the Editor's folio MS. it is _£_500.

[572] See an essay on the word _fit_ at the end of the second part.

[573] So the folio MS.

[574] The battle of Evesham was fought on August 4, 1265.

[575] [This stanza is not in the ordinary versions.]

[576] [Bessie of Bednall, Percy folio MS., ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii. p. 279.]

[577] He was one of Q. Elizabeth's gent. pensioners, at a time when the whole band consisted of men of distinguished birth and fortune. Vid. _Ath. Ox._

[578] Perhaps "blythe."