The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman | Page 3

of no Turk before,
and yet this familiar introduction satisfies us at once that we know him
well. He was a pirate, no doubt, of a cruel and savage disposition,
entertaining a hatred of the Christian race, and accustomed to garnish
his trees and vines with such stray professors of Christianity as
happened to fall into his hands. "This Turk he had--" is a
master-stroke--a truly Shakspearian touch. There are few things like it
in the language.]
[Footnote 3:
_And every holth she drunk unto him
Vos, "I vish Lord Bateman as
you vos mine!"_
A most affecting illustration of the sweetest simplicity, the purest
artlessness, and holiest affections of woman's gentle nature. Bred up
among the rough and savage crowds which thronged her father's

lawless halls, and meeting with no responsive or kindred spirit among
those fierce barbarians (many of whom, however, touched by her
surpassing charms, though insensible to her virtues and mental
endowments, had vainly sought her hand in marriage), this young
creature had spent the greater part of her life in the solitude of her own
apartments, or in contemplating the charms of nature arrayed in all the
luxury of eastern voluptuousness. At length she hears from an aged and
garrulous attendant, her only female adviser (for her mother died when
she was yet an infant), of the sorrows and sufferings of the Christian
captive. Urged by pity and womanly sympathy, she repairs to his prison
to succour and console him. She supports his feeble and tottering steps
to her father's cellar, recruits his exhausted frame with copious draughts
of sparkling wine, and when his dim eye brightens, and his pale cheek
becomes flushed with the glow of returning health and animation,
she--unaccustomed to disguise or concealment, and being by nature all
openness and truth--gives vent to the feelings which now thrill her
maiden heart for the first time, in the rich gush of unspeakable love,
tenderness, and devotion--
I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!]
[Footnote 4:
_Oh, in sevin long years I'll make a wow,
I'll make a wow, and I'll
keep it strong_.
Love has converted the tender girl into a majestic heroine; she cannot
only make "a wow," but she can "keep it strong;" she feels all the
dignity of truth and love swelling in her bosom. With the view of
possessing herself of the real state of Lord Bateman's affections, and
with no sordid or mercenary motives, she has enquired of that
nobleman what are his means of subsistence, and whether all
Northumberland belongs to him. His Lordship has rejoined, with a
noble regard for truth, that half Northumberland is his, and that he will
give it freely to the fair young lady who will release him from his
dungeon. She, being thus assured of his regard and esteem, rejects all
idea of pecuniary reward, and offers to be a party to a solemn wow--to

be kept strong on both sides--that, if for seven years he will remain a
bachelor, she, for the like period, will remain a maid. The contract is
made, and the lovers are solemnly contracted.]
[Footnote 5:
_Now sevin long years is gone and past,
And fourteen days vell
known to me._
In this may be recognised, though in a minor degree, the same gifted
hand that portrayed the Mussulman, the pirate, the father, and the bigot,
in two words. The time is gone, the historian knows it, and that is
enough for the reader. This is the dignity of history very strikingly
exemplified.]
[Footnote 6:
_Avay and avay vent this proud young porter,
Avay and avay and
avay vent he._
Nothing perhaps could be more ingeniously contrived to express the
vastness of Lord Bateman's family mansion than this remarkable
passage. The proud young porter had to thread courts, corridors,
galleries, and staircases innumerable, before he could penetrate to those
exquisite apartments in which Lord Bateman was wont to solace his
leisure hours, with the most refined pleasures of his time. We behold
him hastening to the presence of his lord: the repetition of the word
"avay" causes us to feel the speed with which he hastens--at length he
arrives. Does he appear before the chief with indecent haste? Is he
described as rushing madly into his presence to impart his message? No!
a different atmosphere surrounds that remarkable man. Even this proud
young porter is checked in his impetuous career which lasted only
Until he came to Lord Bateman's chamber,
Vere he vent down on his
bended knee.
Lord Bateman's eye is upon him, and he quails.]

[Footnote 7:
Vot news! vot news! my proud young porter?
A pleasant condescension on the part of his lordship, showing that he
recognised the stately youth, and no less stately pride of office which
characterized his follower, and that he was acquainted with the
distinguishing appellation