446. Robert Southey to Charles Watkin Williams Wynn, 14 October [1799]*

The Hags Disaster¹

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Oh I have lost my good Night Mare That carried me safe & sound! Oh I have lost my good Night Mare That galloped the Welkin² round!

For Sunday was a parish feast And all the Church wardens were there, And the Overseers upon the Poors Rates Did make most glorious fare.

And there was turtle & venison too And there was fowl & fish, And pudding apoplectical And gout in every dish.

How their chins did wag as they sat at meat Was a merry sight to see, But an Alderman he ate the most Of all the company.

I watchd him as they carried him home And laid him in his bed, Ten Porters groand beneath his weight As he were made of lead.

Oh I have lost my good night mare That carried me safe & sound, For the Alderman sleeps & she presses upon His bellys monstrous round.

While on his back like a sow in a sack The grunts but ill at ease, In jolly & custard & codlin tart The Mare is up to her knees.

The days & nights he yet has lain, And no word utters he, And a third shall come ere he can speak Or the Mare again be free.

And thus the Hag that rides by night Bewaild her cause of grief, And her sister heard her piteous plaint And hastened to her relief.

The Moon was bright & clear the night And a stable door she shewd, Where Robin Carriers favorite steed In his stall well-littered stood.

And thus she bespoke the midnight hag, Oh cease your lamentation! For here is a horse that is big enough To ride the whole corporation.

And you shall ride before, sister, And I will ride behind, And thro the welkin wide we’ll go And we’ll outstrip the wind.

And I shall see my darling fiend Who dwells beyond the sea, His eyes of fire drop scalding tears Of molten iron for me.

And I shall see my black cats ghost That was wont to range the heath, He died, poor thing! for very lack Of paltry infants breath.

Now up they mount – the one before And the other close behind, And thro the welkin wide they go And they outstrip the wind.

No mortal eye could follow them, No tongue could tell their track, And before the Sun had his course begun The Hags & the Horse came back.

Loud crows the cock & Robin is up For a thrifty lad is he, And into the stable Robin is gone His favourite steed to see.

His favourite steed he sees indeed But ah! in piteous plight, His flanks were beating too & fro And his sides with foam were white.

Ah sure, some Witch has ridden thee, Quoth Robin to his horse, And over the mountains & over the sea Has held her cursed course.

Ah I forgot to make thy stall With magic charm secure, Forgot to nail the rusty shoe Against the stable door.

Would I could see Mother Jenkins now For she has playd me this trick, My vengeance the hideous hag should feel At the end of this oaken stick!

Scarce had he spoke when on the ground He saw two straws that lay, They tumbled over & over again As tho they had been at play.

And Robin took up in idle mood The longest straw to bend, And doubled it round like the link of a chain, And fastened it end to end.

When straight he heard a voice without Cry ‘Sister come away – Ill luck & pain await thee here – Ah Sister, do not stay!

And Robin stard like a stuck pig Beneath the butchers knife, And let the bended straw fall down, And trembled for his life.

For the bended straw which Robin held – Ah! wonderous tale to tell! In accents to the voice replied That spake distinct & well –

Sister I cannot follow thee – Sister I cannot come – For I am fast bound & my back is made round And my nose * * * *³

G. C. B.

hiatus valde lacrymabilis!⁴

Christ Church Monday Oct. 14. My dear Wynn Yours of the 8th I have this morning received. with a few trifling alterations this would make an excellent ballad. it tickles me hugely.

God bless you. yrs truly R Southey.