No, sweet Madam Nelly, you cannot deny, But you have had treasure as often as I, And yet must I onely indeed be run down, with a fa, la, &c. You drab of a Miss, I do hold you in scorn, I'de have you to know I am this Nation born, Your coming to England I heartily rue, Of many [a] good bout I've been cheated by you, with a fa, la, &c. No matter for that, it was all my delight, with a fa, la, &c. But now I am in a most pittiful plight, with a fa, la, &c. 60 Unfortunate Lady that now am deny'd, In this vail of sorrow my patience is try'd, Sure this may be termed the downfal of pride, with a fa, la, &c. 64 I'le warrant, you thought it would ever be day, with a fa, la, &c. But now you are utterly fell to decay, with a fa, la, &c. 68 You are in a sad and deplorable state, You wander alone now for want of a Mate, 72 Good words appropriated to bad meanings soon lose favour, like occupy, censorious, superstitious, &c. For a man now to speak of his "Mistress suggests evil thoughts. The word "Miss" suffered damage in the time of Charles II. In Evelyn's Diary, January 9th, 1661-2, we read: "I saw acted The third Part of the Siege of Rhodes' [by Sir Wm. D'Avenant]. In this acted the faire and famous Comedian call'd Roxalana, from the part she perform'd; and I think it was the last, she being taken to be the Earle of Oxford's Misse (as at this time they began to call lewd women)." 2 In original this is misprinted "never." No, Nelly, I will not be clearly dismay'd, with a fa, la, &c. I'le set a good face and will follow my trade, I shall have some trading I do make no doubt, 1 Printed for I. Deacon, in Guiltspur-street. 1 Our modern slang, "What's your little game?" is here anticipated. [This cut in the original is printed to the right of that on p. 599.] 76 80 Portsmouth's Lamentation. "The burden of fair women. Vain delight, As a thief comes that has no heart by day, And change that finds fair cheeks and leaves them grey, And grief that says what pleasure used to say; This is the end of every man's desire." A. C. Swinburne: A Ballad of Burdens. As already mentioned, this ballad is of the same subject as the S one immediately before it, and evidently of the date March, 1685. The tune named, Tom the Taylor, refers to a ballad in Roxb. Coll., ii. 263; iv. 27, beginning "Tom the Taylor near the Strand, he met a pretty creature." The title is "Poor Tom the Taylor, his Lamentation," and the tune is designated "Daniel Cooper." "Daniel Cooper; or, The Highland Laddy" (Douce Coll., i. fol. 51), begins, "There's ne'r a Lad in our town, that's worth an ounce of Powder." "To the Scotch tune, call'd Wally on't; or, We'l welcome you to Yarrow; Up go we; Jenny gin" (our p. 510). Printed for P. Brooksby, 1682. We have the music of Daniel Cooper, in connexion with the words of a different ballad, "A Nosegay of Pleasure growing in Cupid's garden;" "Good honest Trooper, take warning by Donald Cooper: to the tune of Daniel Cooper." The beginning is, "A bonny Lad came to the Court, his name was Donald Cooper." It is found in N. T.'s 180 Loyal Songs, 1685, p. 354, and also in Pills, v. 88. As for the other title, "Titus Oates," if unaccompanied it would give no help, for the songs written against this stupendous perjurer were innumerable: some went to the tune of "Packington's Pound," others to "Sike a wife has Willy had," ," "Hark the thund'ring cannon roar," "Sir Eglamore," "The Jovial Beggar," "Now, now the Fight's done," and "Hail to the myrtle shade," &c. "Titus Oates" probably refers to "Oates well thrashed, being a Dialogue between a Countrey Farmer, and his man Jack," beginning "Our Oates last week not worth a Groat," &c. It is one of the 180 Loyal Songs, 1685, 1694, p. 254: the true tune is "Cavalilly Man" (Pop. Music, 441). Eleanor Gwynn, or Gwyn, as shown in her horoscope (believed to have been drawn by Wm. Lilly), in the Ashmolean Museum, was born on the 2nd February, 1649-50. She was of Welsh family, and her father was either 66 a Captain" Thomas, or a Fruiter in Covent Garden. Nelly's own account of her early days is dark enough. She said, "I was but one man's mistress, though I was brought up in a brothel to fill strong-water to the gentlemen; and you [Beck Marshall] are a mistress to three or four, though a Presbyter's praying daughter." Nelly's orthodoxy was more unimpeachable than her morals, and she had not any objection to swearing, so far as might be deemed expedient and edifying. Years later, when hooted by the populace, who mistook her for the Duchess of Portsmouth (the other interlocutor in the preceding and following ballads), Nelly popped her pretty face from the coach-window, and merrily shouted, "My good people, you think I am the Catholic Whore,-but I am the Protestant Whore." They cheered her, in consequence. This was satisfactory. Yet there are schismatics, even now, who object to any creed or profession of faith. Nelly had all the hearty likings of the Cavaliers, and her approval of May-poles and of Milkmaids' dances is certified by Pepys. Theatres she frequented, at first to sell her oranges, and next to win admiration as an actress, but always to enjoy the performances and see the company. By December 1666 she was an accomplished and charming Lady Wealthy, in the Hon. Jas. Howard's "English Monsieur." Early in 1668, the King had shown his favour to her, although this was not notorious until 1669-70. She retired from the Stage in 1671. The children of the Duchesses of Cleveland and of Portsmouth had been ennobled with titles, but Nelly's (far more indisputably the sons of Charles) had received no such dignities. She took her own way of bringing this omission into notice. She called to her eldest son, when he was playing in the room where the King sat, "Come here, you little bastard!" Charles was shocked, and rebuked her. With demure looks, and meek simplicity, she replied, Indeed, I am sorry, but have no better name to give him, poor boy!" A few days later the child was made Baron of Heddington and Earl of Burford; and, in 1683, Duke of St. Albans, a title still borne by his descendants. " Her faithful affection was not unappreciated by the populace or by Charles. Almost his last words were, in commending her to his brother's care, "Let not poor Nelly starve!" He knew that she had never striven to enrich herself; and, in fact, when she died, within seven years afterwards, in 1691, she possessed little property, "and that little was by her will distributed in charity. She left, among other bequests, a small sum yearly to the ringers of the church of St. Martin, where she was buried, which donation they still enjoy" [1851]. The name of the Duchess of Portsmouth was generally corrupted into "Madame Carwell." In 1670 she had been seen by Charles at Dover, whither she came in the train of his sister Henrietta to meet him, for the arrangement of a secret treaty with Louis XIV. The ladies returned to Versailles, Henrietta died, and Buckingham arrived as Envoy Extraordinary. It is believed that he arranged Louise's return to England, by royal invitation, solely to injure Charles's reigning-favourite, the Duchess of Cleveland, with whom he himself had been intimate, but had now quarrelled. Louise, soon dignified as the Duchess of Portsmouth, became the most prodigal and absolute of mistresses. Nothing was denied to her extravagant demands. She survived, in retirement, and in her native France, until 1734; then died in her eighty-seventh year. In State Poems, 1707, iv. 388, is "A Dialogue between the Dutchess of Clevel[and] and the Dutchess of Portsmouth, at their Meeting in Paris, with the Ghost of Jane Shore;" Cleveland beginning, "Art thou return'd, my Sister Concubine?" Of this, as a broadside, the original is in Ouvry Collection, i. 42-45. In the third vol. of State Poems, p. 132, is a laudatory verse, "To be written under the Dutchess of Portsmouth's Picture," beginning "Had she but liv'd in Cleopatra's Age," with the conclusion, in reference to her beauty (and the title of Dryden's adaptation of Shakespeare), "That all the world for love had well been lost." Two lampooning Answers follow it, and in State Poems Continued, p. 51, is another, written in September, 1682, We not strait be wonder-struck, Ho can on this picture look, That such a speaking doudy thing For half Whitehall make her their Court, False and foolish, proud and bold, In a word, her mighty Grace Is Whore in all things but her Face. This is the sort of writing (and much immeasurably worse than it may be found) in which the opposers of the Court indulged, against women. No wonder such a remonstrance against their licence as the Bagford ballad (iii. 52) appeared in 1679. This may refer to her foreign accent and broken English. Or, query, sneaking"? |