"It was in bluff King Harry's days, while yet he went to shrift, "The Canon was a portly man of Latin and of Greek, And learned lore, he had good store - yet health was on his cheek. The Priory fare was scant and spare, the bread was made of rye, The beer was weak, yet he was sleek he had a merry eye. "For though within the Priory the fare was scant and thin, "For soups, and stews, and choice ragouts, Nell Cook was famous still! She'd make them even of old shoes, she had such wondrous skill: Her manchets fine were quite divine, her cakes were nicely browned, Her boiled and roast, they were the boast of all the 'Precinct' round; "And Nelly was a comely lass, but calm and staid her air, And earthward bent her modest look - yet was she passing fair; And though her gown was russet brown, their heads grave people shook; They all agreed no Clerk had need of such a pretty Cook. "One day, 'twas on a Whitsun Eve there came a coach and four; It passed the 'Green-court' gate, and stopped before the Canon's door; The travel-stain on wheel and rein bespoke a weary way, "Now welcome! welcome! dearest Niece,' the Canon then did cry, And to his breast the Lady prest - he had a merry eye 'Now welcome! welcome! dearest Niece! in sooth, thou'rt welcome here: 'Tis many a day since we have met- how fares my Brother dear?' "Now thanks, my loving Uncle,' that Lady gay replied: 'Gramercy for thy benison!' then 'Out, alas!' she sighed: 'My father dear he is not near; he seeks the Spanish Main; He prays thee give me shelter here till he return again!'. "Now welcome! welcome! dearest Niece; come lay thy mantle by!' The Canon kissed her ruby lip-― he had a merry eye – But Nelly Cook askew did look: it came into her mind 1 "Three weeks are gone and over full three weeks and a day, "And fine upon the virginals is that gay Lady's touch, And sweet her voice unto the lute, you'll scarce hear any such; But is it 'O Sanctissima!' she sings in dulcet tone? Or 'Angels ever bright and fair'? Ah, no! - it's 'Bobbing Joan !' "The Canon's house is lofty and spacious to the view; The Canon's cell is ordered well-yet Nelly looks askew; The Lady's bower is in the tower, yet Nelly shakes her head — She hides the poker and the tongs in that gay Lady's bed! "Six weeks were gone and over full six weeks and a day, "But where that Lady passed her night, I may not well divine: It "And still at night, by fair moonlight, when all were locked in sleep, "It was a glorious summer's eve - with beams of rosy red "Now here's to thee, mine Uncle! a health I drink to thee! ""Tis early dawn- the matin chime rings out for morning prayer- All wonder and the Sacristan says, 'Lauk-a-daisy-me!' 1 "A little more than kin, and less than kind." — Hamlet, "They've searched the aisles and Baptistery — they've searched above around The Sermon House' - the 'Audit Room'-the Canon is not found. They only find that pretty Cook concocting a ragout, They ask her where her master is-but Nelly looks askew. "They call for crowbars-'jemmies' is the modern name they bear [there! They burst through lock, and bolt, and bar-but what a sight is The Canon's head lies on the bed — his Niece lies on the floor! — They are as dead as any nail that is in any door! "The livid spot is on his breast, the spot is on his back! His portly form, no longer warm with life, is swoln and black! — The livid spot is on her cheek, it's on her neck of snow, And the Prior sighs, and sadly cries, 'Well here's a pretty Go!' "All at the silent hour of night a bell is heard to toll, A knell is rung, a requiem's sung as for a sinful soul, "An Uncle-so 'tis whispered now throughout the sacred fane, — And a Niece-whose father's far away upon the Spanish Main. The Sacristan, he says no word that indicates a doubt, But he puts his thumb unto his nose, and spreads his fingers out! "And where doth tarry Nelly Cook, that staid and comely lass? Ay, where?- for ne'er from forth that door was Nelly known to pass. Her coif and gown of russet brown were lost unto the view, And if you mentioned Nelly's name - the monks all looked askew ! "There is a heavy paving-stone fast by the Canon's door, "That heavy granite stone was moved that night, 'twas darkly said, And the mortar round its sides next morn seemed fresh and newly laid, But what within the narrow vault beneath that stone doth lie, Or if that there be vault or no- I cannot tell - not I! "But I've been told that moan and groan, and fearful wail and shriek, Came from beneath that paving-stone for nearly half a week For three long days and three long nights came forth those sounds of fear; Then all was o'er - they nevermore fell on the listening ear. "A hundred years have gone and past since last Nell Cook was seen, When worn by use, that stone got loose, and they went and told the Dean. Says the Dean, says he, 'My Masons three! now haste and fix it tight;' And the Masons three peeped down to see, and they saw a fearsome sight. "Beneath that heavy paving-stone a shocking hole they found It was not more than twelve feet deep, and barely twelve feet round;A fleshless, sapless skeleton lay in that horrid well! But who the deuce 'twas put it there those Masons could not tell. "And near this fleshless skeleton a pitcher small did lie, "It was in good Dean Bargrave's days, if I remember right, Those fleshless bones beneath the stones these Masons brought to light; And you may well in the 'Dean's Chapelle' Dean Bargrave's portrait view, 'Who died one night,' says old Tom Wright, 'in sixteen forty-two!' "And so two hundred years have passed since that these Masons three, With curious looks, did set Nell Cook's unquiet spirit free; On Friday died he, and that tidy Lady by his side! "And though two hundred years have flown, Nell Cook doth still pursue Her weary walk, and they who cross her path the deed may rue; "But all unlike the Simoom's blast, her breath is deadly cold, "No matter who- no matter what condition, age, or sex, necks; LEC Some 'get run over' by a coach; - and one beyond the seas 'Got' scraped to death with oyster-shells among the Caribbees! "Those Masons three, who set her free, fell first! — it is averred That two were hanged on Tyburn tree for murdering of the third: Charles Storey, too, his friend who slew, had ne'er, if truth they tell, Been gibbeted on Chatham Down, had they not met with Nell! "Then send me not, mine Uncle dear, oh! send me not, I pray, Back through that Entry dark to-night, but round some other way! I will not be a truant boy, but good, and mind my book, For Heaven forfend that ever I foregather with Nell Cook!" The class was called at morning tide, and Master Tom was there; Hence little boys may learn, when they from school go out to dine, MORAL. -- A few remarks to learned Clerks in country and in town:- Hob-nob in Sack and Malvoisie, - and don't eat too much pie!! And oh beware that Entry dark, especially at night, And bless us all, both great and small, and keep us from Nell Cook! THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS. BY RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. (From the "Ingoldsby Legends.") The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair! VOL. XXIII. 7 |