"His LEGENDARY SONG could tell 66 Of ancient deeds, so long forgot; Of feuds, whose memory was not; "Of forests, non laid waste and bare ; "Of towers, which harbour now the hare; 66 Of MANNERS, long since chang'd and gone; Of chiefs, who under their grey stone "So long had slept, that fickle Fame "Had blotted from her rolls their name.” THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, Canto 4. THE Suffolk Horkey, A PROVINCIAL BALLAD: BY ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. "In Suffolk," says Sir John Cullum in his entertaining History of Hansted, "the harvest lasts "about five weeks; during which the harvestman earns "about £3. The agreement between the farmers and "their hired harvestmen is made on Whitson Monday. "Harvest gloves of 7d. a pair are still presented. "During harvest, if any strangers happen to come into "the field, they are strongly solicited to make a pre"sent to the labourers, and those who refuse are reckon"ed churlish and covetous. This present is called a Largess; and the benefactor is celebrated on the spot, by the whole troop, nho first cry out, Holla! Lar26 gess! Holla! Largess! They then set up two "violent screams, which are succeeded by a loud voci"feration, continued as long as their breath will serve, "and dying gradually away. Wheat harvest is fi"nished by a little repast given by the farmer to his 66 men. And the completion of the whole is crowned by "a banquet, called the Horkey, to which the wives "and children are also invited. The largess money "furnishes another day of festivity, at the alehouse, "when they experience to perfection the happiness of, Corda oblita laborum. "At all their merry-makings their benefactors are "commemorated by, Holla! Largess! The last load of corn is carried home, as it were in triumph, adorn"ed with a green bough.” "In the descriptive Ballad which follows," says Bloomfield in his Advertisement to the "Horkey," "it "will be evident that I have endeavoured to preserve "the style of a gossip, and to transmit the memorial of a custom, the extent or antiquity of which I am "not acquainted with, and pretend not to enquire into. 66 "In Suffolk husbandry the man who, (whether by "merit or by sufferance I know not) goes foremost "through the harvest with the scythe or the sickle, is "honoured with the title of Lord,' and at the Hor"key, or harvest-home feast, collects what he can, for "himself and brethren, from the farmers and visitors, "to make a frolic' afterwards called the largess spending. By way of returning thanks, though perhaps formerly of much more, or of different signifi"cation, they immediately leave the seat of festivity; "and with a very long and repeated shout of a lar"gess' (the number of shouts being regulated by the sums given) seem to wish to make themselves heard by the people of the surrounding farms. And before they "rejoin the company within, the pranks and the jollity "I have endeavoured to describe, usually take place. "These customs, I believe, are going fast out of use; "which is one great reason for my trying to tell the rising race of mankind that such were the customs "when I was a boy." WHAT gossips prattled in the sun, Ah! Judie Twichet! though thou'rt dead, For still seems thrumming in my head With dangling stockings great and small, And world of clack beside! "We did so laugh; the moon shone bright; ""Twas farmer Cheerum's Horkey night, "Boys rubb'd their hands, and cried, there's more, 66 Dogs wagg'd their tails to see't. "On went the boilers till the hake * "Had much ado to bear 'em ; "The magpie talk'd for talking sake, "Birds sung-but who could hear 'em? "Creak went the jack; the cats were scar'd "We had not time to heed 'em, “The owd hins cackled in the yard, "For we forgot to feed 'em! sliding pot-hook. |