button to main menu  Gents Mag 1825 part 1 p.490

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Gentleman's Magazine 1825 part 1 p.490

'A traitor!' Lord Derwentwater said,
'A traitor! how can I be,
Unless for keeping five hundred men,
Fighting for King Jemmy?'

Then started forth a grave old man,
With a broad-mouth'd axe in hand.
'Thy head, thy head, Lord Derwentwater;
Thy head's at my command.'

'My head, my head, thou grave old man,
My head I will give to thee:
Here's a coat of velvet on my back,
Will surely pay thy fee,

But give me leave,' Derwentwater said,
'To speak words two or three;
Ye lords and ladies of London town,
Be kind to my lady.

'Here's a purse of fifty sterling pounds;
Pray give it to the poor:
Here's one of forty-five beside,
You may dole from door to door.'

He laid his head upon the block,
The ax was sharp and strong;
The stroke that cut his sufferings short,
His memory cherished long.

Thus fell proud Derwent's ancient lord,
Dread victim to the laws;
His lands fell forfeit to the Crown,
Lost in the Stuart's cause.

His weeping widow's drooping heart
With sorrow burst in twain;
His orphan'd children, outcast spurn'd,
Deep felt th' attainted stain.

The Derwent's far-famed Lake alone,
Its noble name retains,
And of the title, thence extinct,
Sole monument remains.
Other lines on Dilston Hall are in vol.95 part 2 pp.118-119, 1826.

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