The Cruel Cooper of Ratcliff.
In Three PARTS.
PART I.
|
NEAR Ratcliff Cross lived a cooper there,
|
Who had a virtuous wife comely and fair,
|
He by this prudent woman had a son,
|
Besides this youth they children neer had none.
|
Tho wise and prudent, yet this cruel man
|
Did oftimes beat her with a cruel hand,
|
As he did one day with grief of heart,
|
The youth with tea,s did take his mothers part,
|
Cries he. Father, Im afraid you will
|
With kicks and cuffs my tender mother kill.
|
Hearing these words he then his son did beat,
|
And that night turnd him into the street.
|
Saying, if thou comest here any more,
|
Ill break thy bones, he then locked the door,
|
In the wide street this lad did lay all night,
|
And in the morning came when it was light.
|
But when this man looked and saw his son,
|
In a vast passion he to him did run,
|
And with an adz knockd him on the Crown,
|
Which laid the youth along upon the ground.
|
Being thus servd, in tears he did lament,
|
Then up he got, and out of doors he went,
|
Saying, if I should any longer stay,
|
He in his wrath will take my life away.
|
And to prevent what dangers may ensue,
|
Father and mother he bids both adieu,
|
And having knowledge of his fathers trade,
|
Went ooopers mate to Turkey it is said,
|
He liked the country so well we do find,
|
The ship came back and left the lad behind;
|
He placed himself with a native to dwell,
|
Whose family loved him very well,
|
Though young in years he was grown very tall,
|
And of a comely Countenance withal,
|
The native damsels did him much admire,
|
And to enjoy him some had vast desire,
|
His master kept him for his serving man,
|
And in short time by deaths destroying hand,
|
His master happened to trip away,
|
Who being dead, the young man bore the sway.
|
His mistress lovd him as she did her life,
|
And in short time was made his lawful wife,
|
She was prodigious rich we undersland,
|
And he had many slaves at his command.
|
Now will I leave him for a little while,
|
With Providence on him and her to smile,
|
And in the next part some enquiry make,
|
What sort of life his cruel sire doth take.
|
|
|
|
|
PART II.
|
Near Ratcliff-cross he lived years tis known,
|
And to his wife he was a cruel one,
|
And in process of time death did them part,
|
And tis supposed this man broke her heart.
|
After her death he could not thrive at all,
|
Day after day he down at heels did fall,
|
And by degrees this man was brought so low,
|
For Debt himself he was afraid to shew.
|
The Bailiffs waited for him day and night,
|
He knowing of the same kept out of sight,
|
And to prevent his going unto a Goal,
|
In a merchant-man he unto sea did sail.
|
Thus he for debt was forcd to fly from home,
|
And on the raging seas where billows foam,
|
To their great grief, this man and twenty more
|
Were carried prisoners to the Turkish shore.
|
It happened so as we do understand,
|
They were made slaves unto his sons command,
|
Full half a year in slavery they had been,
|
In all which time his son he had not seen.
|
This cooper he was aged sixty two,
|
Who was the oldest of the whole ships crew,
|
Being stiff with age, his tbsk could not perform,
|
By which he sufferd many a heavy storm.
|
The Task-master to him was sharp indeed,
|
He often whipt him till he made him bleed,
|
Upon a time he lashd him so one day,
|
He could no longer stand, but down did lay.
|
Being laid down the task master did go,
|
And gave the head master this to know,
|
Crying, sir, your slave an aged man,
|
Will not perform his task do all I can.
|
He tells me plainly that his work is done,
|
When hearing this, the head master his son,
|
Went out among the slaves, where he found
|
His aged father lying on the ground.
|
Not knowing him with great severity
|
He lashd his father very grievously,
|
Which made him cry, Sir oh my flesh is sore,
|
Do hold thy hand, and strike me no more.
|
The task is hard your servant puts on me,
|
What I can do, to that I am most free,
|
To suffer thus I am not able to live,
|
Kill me outright and I will you forgive.
|
Hearing these words his son did him view,
|
And said, tell me what Countryman are you?
|
His answer was, I came from Old England,
|
I was a Cooper, sir, from fair London.
|
My name is Robert Stark, tis know right well,
|
I was a man in great repute did dwell,
|
But as it provd Fortune did frown on me,
|
Now tis my Lot your suffering slave to be.
|
Have you no family? he answerd no;
|
I buried a wife seven years ago,
|
And I had a son a hopeful child was he,
|
Three years before her death he went from me,
|
I have not heard from him now all this while,
|
I was both cruel to my wife and child,
|
And I do really think now from my heart,
|
Tis for my cruelty I thus do smart.
|
Now hearing this, his son with grief was filld,
|
And tears like water that was finely stilld,
|
Run down his cheeks amain, tear after tear,
|
To think that he had lashd his father dear.
|
Then he aside his task-master did call,
|
And said, do not abuse this man at all,
|
He is my Father, but dont let him know
|
I am his Son. Then he home did go.
|
|
|
|
|
PART III.
|
And to his closet he in private went,
|
Where he with bitter cries did sore lament,
|
At length by chance his wife did him hear,
|
Who said, what makes you to grieve my dear?
|
His answer was, to grieve great cause I have,
|
For my own Father is become my slave.
|
Not knowing him, I lashd htm oer and oer,
|
To think of this grieveth me very sore.
|
To think the curse of God should light on me,
|
But what I did it was innocently.
|
O wife, what shall I do, my heart doth bleed,
|
Do let my father come to me with speed.
|
They sent for him, and when he came there
|
They of his tender flesh did take great care,
|
His bleeding wounds anointed were with oil,
|
And the poor man stood trembling all the while.
|
This being done, choice linen fine and soft,
|
And other costly things to him were brought.
|
And in these when he Garments was arrayd,
|
He then with tears lift up his eyes, and said,
|
Lord what am I mere than another slave,
|
That I such favour of my master have,
|
Blest be his name that thus my friend dotn stand,
|
To pity me thus in a foreign land.
|
Hearing these words, his son could not detain
|
His tears from falling, and to drop amain,
|
He said, the man who for you thus hath done,
|
Behold he is your dear and only son.
|
Im grievd to think that I provd so severe,
|
To lay hands upon my father dear,
|
But God I hope will pardon me, because
|
I did not know that you my father was.
|
Hearing these words, like one struck in amaze,
|
He winh a blush thon on his son did gaze,
|
Saying, are you my son? alas, alas!
|
By this we see what God can bring to pass.
|
My son, my son, Im glad thy face to see,
|
But what astonishment is here for me,
|
That I who beat my child quite out of door,
|
Should thus be forcd his favour to implore,
|
Father, the Lord he did these things foresee,
|
That you should come your childs slave to be,
|
And God was pleasd these things to do by you,
|
To shew what he can bring proud mortals to.
|
The Lord has placd me here to live and reign.
|
To be a friend to ease thee of thy pain,
|
Ill succour thee till death, and for thy sake,
|
I of my native slaves great care will take.
|
He cherishd him oftimes, but on a day
|
His wife was pleased then these words to say,
|
Husband, because he cruel was to you,
|
I neer shall love your father that is true.
|
I do not care that he should here remain,
|
From whence he came let him return again,
|
And unto him we will some riches give,
|
Enough tn cherish him whilst he doth live.
|
For quietness sake he made her this reply.
|
But turnd him round and wept most bitterly,
|
To think that he must with his father part,
|
Grief like a spear struck him unto the heart.
|
Then in short time his father left the shore,
|
And in a Merchant ship he did come oer,
|
Again to England, and did bring to town,
|
As much in Riches as five thousand pounds.
|
He owed an hundred pounds, which he paid,
|
When being out of debt, these words he said,
|
First my dear God I give thanks to thee,
|
Next for my Child my prayers shall be.
|
For had it been another, I deservd,
|
In slavery till death I must have servd,
|
And neer had met one in that distant place,
|
Thus to commiserate my wretched case.
|
Now to conclude, young men let these Lines,
|
Be well engraven in your hearts and minds,
|
That is, to serve the Lord and shun the devil,
|
And like rhis young man still do good for evil.
|
|
|
|
|