Lady Howard of Tavistock

Lady Howard of Tavistock

I am Mary with a story, which many of you might tell,

Of those you love, and those you don’t, who condemn us all to hell

 

My own tale is a cursed one, that’s told from days of yore

Five hundred long years I’ve travelled, across the wild Dartmoor

In a ghostly, ghastly carriage made from the bones of six dead men

Forever carries me nightly: Oakhampton and home again

‘Twixt the stroke of midnight, and dawn’s first cock’rel crow

From Fitzford House to Oak Castle I’m doomed to always go

Until the ends of time, fetching forth one blade of grass

The green mound there will never be bare: my curse will never pass

 

I’ll begin at the beginning, with the bones of him died first

John Fitz – once Lord of Fitzford House, our home now with me cursed

Pa John inherited a vast fortune, but our fortune was brief

Riches drove him insane and set my path: an eternity of grief

Fitzford wealth earnt him more enemies than silver groats

He killed friend and foe, his craz’d mind hooked on slitting rivals’ throats

Those who spill it soon come to learn, blood can’t be washed with gold

I found him slain – by his own hand – I’m an orphan, nine years old

 

I am Mary with a story…

 

Alone, young, rich, female – I need protecting from false claims

Naive to think my earthly saviour would be pious King James

Righteous Royal chattels me to the Earl of Northumberland

Was only a child when he tired of me – gave his brother my wedded hand

Abused, trapped, frightened – as the creatures he hunted for glory

I beseeched Mother Earth in all her power to remove this beast from my story

Nature is red in tooth and claw, soon horn and hoof his gizzards gore

Hunter is hunted and dead man two, I’m your prey no more

 

I am Mary with a story that many a girl might tell,

Of the men you love, and those you don’t, who drive us all to hell

 

I elope with my secret sweetheart: clandestine marriage to fair Thomas

My life it finally felt full of hope, future brimming with such promise

But you’ve guessed by now, this isn’t a tale where happiness will last

Just a few months of joy ‘til tragedy when my one true love he passed

The pain and grieving will never stop for my Tom who died third

Was still in black weeds and just sixteen when forced to wed John Howard

Hid my every penny from this scrounging scoundrel: “Sir, do you not love me poor?”

His answer as unknown as his cause of death – this dead man number four

 

I am Mary with a story…

 

Rue the day fate led my way to final husband Sir Richard Grenville

Used fire and fists to harm me, locked me up against my will

Star Chamber judged him vile and violent, sent him straight to Lydford Gaol

On escaping he revelled in torment and terror on a much larger scale

When brother turned against brother and England she was bleeding

‘Twas turncoat Rich warred for both sides as General and was leading

Parliament ‘gainst Royals and vice versa ’til no troops were left alive

This traitor, skellum, Gren-villain is the bones of dead man five

 

I am Mary with a story that many a girl might tell,

Of the men you love, and those you don’t, who take us all to hell

 

I’m way past the point of white weddings now, I’ll only take a lover

As a wife it would seem I’ve truly failed, I try and be a better mother

Head home to Tavistock with George my boy, but me and luck don’t mix

The Fates they deal my last mortal blow and make my baby dead man six

 

My heart and earthly body breaks, soul taken, no longer my own

I’m cast as a black widow, with a black dog to match, in a carriage made from bone

‘Twixt the stroke of midnight and the dawn’s first cock’rel crow

From Fitzford House to Oak Castle I’m doomed to always go

Until the ends of time, fetching forth one blade of grass

The green mound there will never be bare: my curse will never pass

 

Legends unfair to the fairer sex – the bold, the brave, the beautiful

It warns us all throughout all time to be decent, dull and dutiful

I’m a women with a story, but aren’t all our sex damned as well?

Leave those lovers – and your life – behind you my dears, come and ride with me to hell…

anna jones ©2017

https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Devonshire_Characters_and_Strange_Events/Lady_Howard

anna at Oakhampton Castle