Lord Bakeman- Harris broadside (RI) c.1790 Barry C
[No stanza divisions. From: British Ballads from Maine, 1929, version C. Barry gives the date as "around 1790" and is "perhaps an old Providence Rhode Island production" (BBM, 1929) although clearly it was sold in Boston. Imprinted: "Sold wholesale and retail on Cross Street, near Mercantile Wharf, Boston." The only missing text from the Coverly and Forget-Me Not Songster is:
She inquired for Lord Bakeman's palace,
At every corner of the street,
Otherwise, the text is nearly identical (missing dialogue quotations, a couple changed words and just a few additional contractions) to the Coverly broadside (Boston, MA c. 1810) which is the same text as reprinted from The Forget-Me-Not Songster c. 1845. It's possible that both the Forget-Me-Not Songster version and the Coverly broadside were copied from Harris broadside.
R. Matteson 2014]
Lord Bakeman
Who was taken by the Turks and put in prison, and afterwards released by the jailor's daughter, whom he married- a true story.
In India lived a noble Lord,
His riches were beyond compare,
He was the darling of his parents,
And of their estate an only heir.
He had gold and he had silver,
And he had houses of a high degree,
But still he never could be contented,
Until a voyage he had been to sea.
He sail'd east and he sail'd west,
Until he came to the Turkish shore,
Where he was taken and put in prison,
Where he could neither see nor hear.
For seven long months he lay lamenting,
He laid lamenting in iron bands,
There happen'd to be a brisk young lady,
Which set him free from his iron chains.
The jailor had one only daughter,
A brisk young lady gay was she,
As she was walking across the floor,
She chanced Lord Bakeman for to see.
She stole the keys of her father's prison,
And said Lord Bakeman she would set free.
She went unto the prison door,
And opened it without delay.
Have you got gold, or have you got silver,
Or have you got houses of a high degree,
What will you give to the lady fair,
If she from bondage will set you free?
Yes, I've got gold, and I've got silver,
And I've got houses of a high degree,
I'll give them all to the lady fair,
If she from bondage will set me free.
It's not your silver, nor your gold,
Nor yet your houses with a high degree;
Tis all I want is to make me happy,
And all I crave is your fair body.
Let us make a bargain, and make it strong,
For seven long years it shall stand,
You shall not wed with no other woman,
And I'll not wed with no other man.
When seven long years were gone and past,
And seven long years were at an end,
She pack'd up all her richest clothing,
Saying, now I'll go and seek my friend.
She sailed east, and she sailed west,
Until she came to the India shore,
And there she ne'er could be contented,
Till for her true love she did enquire.
She enquired after Lord Bakeman's palace,
Of every person she chanced to meet.
And when she came to Lord Bakeman's palace,
She knock'd so loud upon the ring,
There's none so ready as the brisk young porter,
To arise and let this fair lady in.
She ask'd if this was Lord Bakeman's palace,
Or is the Lord himself within?
Yes, yes, reply'd the brisk young porter,
He and his bride have just entered in.
She wept, she wept and wrung her hands,
Crying Alas! I am undone.
I wish I was in my native country,
Across the sea, there to remain.
Ask him to send me one ounce of bread,
And a bottle of his wine so strong,
And ask him if he's forgot the lady,
That let him free from his iron chains.
The porter went in unto his master,
And bowed low upon his knee,
Arise, arise, my brisk young porter,
And tell me what the matter is?
There is a lady stands at your gate,
And she doth weep most bitterly,
I think she is as fine a creature,
That ever I wish my eyes did see.
She's got more rings on her forefingers,
And round her waist has diamond strings,
She's got more gold about her clothing,
Than your new bride and all her kin.
She wants you to send her one ounce of bread,
And a bottle of your wine so strong,
And asks if you have forgot the lady,
That set you free from your iron chains.
He stamp'd his foot upon the floor,
He broke the table in pieces three,
Here's adieu to you, my wedded bride,
For this fair Lady I will go see.
Then up bespoke the new bride's mother,
And she was a lady of a high degree,
Tis you have made a bride of my daughter;
Well, she is none the worse for me.
But since my fair one has arrived,
A second wedding there shall be,
Your daughter came on a horse and saddle,
She may go home in her coach and three.
He took this fair lady by the hand,
And led her over the marble stones,
He chang'd her name from Susannah fair,
And now is the wife of Lord Bakeman.
He took her by her lily-white hand,
And led her through from room to room,
He has chang'd her name from Susannah fair,
And is call'd the wife of Lord Bakeman.