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Gentleman's Magazine 1791 p.721

  Luck of Edenhall

Luck of Edenhall

Bottesford, July 29.
IN an excursion to the North of England, I was easily prevailed upon to see the Luck of Edenhall *, celebrated in a ballad in Ritson's Select Collection of English Songs. The only description I can give you of it is, a very thin, bell-mouthed, beaker glass, deep and narrow, ornamented on the outside with fancy work of coloured glass, and may hold something more than a pint.
Antient superstition may have contributed not a little to its preservation; but that it should not, in a more enlightened age, or in moments of conviviality, (see the Ballad), meet with one gentle rap (and a gentle one would be quite sufficient for an ordinary glass of the same substance), is to me somewhat wonderful. Superstition, however, cannot be entirely eradicated from the mind at once. The late agent of the family had such a reverential regard for this glass, that he would not suffer any person to touch it, and but a few to see it. When the family, or other curious people had a desire to drink out of it, a napkin was held underneath, lest any accident should befal it; and it is still carefully preserved, in a case made on purpose. The case is said to be the second, yet bears the marks of antiquity, and is charged with

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Tradition, our only guide here, says, that a party of Fairies were drinking and making merry round a well near the Hall, called St. Cuthbert's well; but, being interrupted by some curious people, they were frightened, and made a hasty retreat, and left the cup in question: one of the last screaming out,

If this cup should break or fall,
Farewell the Luck of Edenhall.
The Ballad above alluded to is here inserted. It was written by the Duke of Wharton; and is called, "The Earl's Defeat." - To the tune of Chevy Chace.

"On both sides slaughter and gigantic deeds."

GOD prosper long from being broke
The Luck * of Edenhall;
A dolefull drinking-bout I sing,
There lately did befall.

To chase the spleen with cup and can,
Duke Philip took his way;
Babes yet unborn shall never see
The like of such a day.

The stout and ever-thirsty Duke
A vow to God did make,
His pleasure within Cumberland
Three live-long nights to take.

Sir Musgrave, too, of Martindale,
A true and worthy knight,
Eftsoon with him a bargain made,
In drinking to delight.

The bumpers swiftly pass about,
Six in a hand went round;
And with their calling for more wine,
They made the Hall resound.

Now when these merry tidings reach'd
The Earl of Harold's ears,
And am I (quoth he, with an oath)
Thus slighted by my Peers?

Saddle my steed, bring forth my boots,
I'll be with them right quick;
And, Master Sheriff, come you too;
We'll know this scurvey trick.

"Lo, yonder doth Earl Harold come!"
Did one at table say:
"'Tis well," replied the mettled Duke;
"How will he get away?"

When thus the Earl began: "Great Duke,
I'll know how this did chance,
Without inviting me; sure this
You did not learn in France:

"One of us two, for this offence,
Under the board shall lie:
I know thee well, a Duke thou art;
So some years hence shall I.

"But trust me, Wharton, pity 't were
So much good wine to spill,
* Edenhall, - the antient seat of Sir Philip Musgrave, near Penrith, Cumberland.
* A pint bumper at Sir Christophener Musgrave's. (N.B. Ancestor of the present Baronet.)
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