NoJo
Happily Marred
- Joined
- May 19, 2002
- Posts
- 15,398
The rooms of Uppark House, in Sussex still exude the meaty perfume of Regency hanky-panky, 250 years after a teenage Amy Lyon, later Lady Hamliton, Mistress of Lord Nelson, danced naked on the tables for the entertainment of the guests.
The owner of the estate, the "witless playboy" Henry Fetherstonhaugh, on hearing his dairymaid Mary Ann singing in the dairy, proposed marriage to her. He was seventy, she eighteen. His unusual proposal was:
"Don't answer me now. But if you will have me, cut a slice out of the leg of mutton that is coming up for my dinner today."
When the mutton arrived, the slice was cut.
Ah, romance!
Anyway the story and house inspired the poet me, so I present you with it here:
Mary was a milkmaid,
For the Earl of Hearn,
And all day she would sing,
While she stirred his churn.
The Earl he was a dotard,
Near to end his life,
He heard our Mary sing one day
And asked her for his wife.
He took her to his chamber
On their wedding day
His heart she quickly curdled
As she deftly strained his whey.
A widow now and Countess,
She lay beneath the silk ,
And though she missed her Daisy’s dugs,
She did not want for milk.
The Duke of Stroud was wealthy,
Of him she’d nightly dream,
And whene’er he came a-visiting
She help’d to clot his cream.
The Duke was young but married
He had a jealous wife,
So Mary she beseeched the Count
To end the lady’s life.
But the Duke he blanched and grew afraid
And could not kill his Jane,
So Mary with her cutting-wire
sliced her neck in twain.
Though a Duchess now and wealthy,
Our Mary’s ne’er lazy,
Her fists they tug the Duke by night
By day she tugs her Daisy.
The owner of the estate, the "witless playboy" Henry Fetherstonhaugh, on hearing his dairymaid Mary Ann singing in the dairy, proposed marriage to her. He was seventy, she eighteen. His unusual proposal was:
"Don't answer me now. But if you will have me, cut a slice out of the leg of mutton that is coming up for my dinner today."
When the mutton arrived, the slice was cut.
Ah, romance!
Anyway the story and house inspired the poet me, so I present you with it here:
Mary was a milkmaid,
For the Earl of Hearn,
And all day she would sing,
While she stirred his churn.
The Earl he was a dotard,
Near to end his life,
He heard our Mary sing one day
And asked her for his wife.
He took her to his chamber
On their wedding day
His heart she quickly curdled
As she deftly strained his whey.
A widow now and Countess,
She lay beneath the silk ,
And though she missed her Daisy’s dugs,
She did not want for milk.
The Duke of Stroud was wealthy,
Of him she’d nightly dream,
And whene’er he came a-visiting
She help’d to clot his cream.
The Duke was young but married
He had a jealous wife,
So Mary she beseeched the Count
To end the lady’s life.
But the Duke he blanched and grew afraid
And could not kill his Jane,
So Mary with her cutting-wire
sliced her neck in twain.
Though a Duchess now and wealthy,
Our Mary’s ne’er lazy,
Her fists they tug the Duke by night
By day she tugs her Daisy.
