THE DRUNKARD’S LEGACY.
IN THREE PARTS.
First, giving an account of a gentlemen a having a wild son, and who, foreseeing he would come to poverty, had a cottage built with one door to it, always kept fast; and how, on his dying bed, he charged him not to open it till he was poor and slighted, which the young man promised he would perform. Secondly, of the young man’s pawning his estate to a vintner, who, when poor, kicked him out of doors; when thinking it time to see his legacy, he broke open the cottage door, where instead of money he found a gibbet and halter, which he put round his neck, and jumping off the stool, the gibbet broke, and a thousand pounds came down upon his head, which lay hid in the ceiling. Thirdly, of his redeeming his estate, and fooling the vintner out of two hundred pounds; who, for being jeered by his neighbours, cut his own throat. And lastly, of the young man’s reformation. Very proper to be read by all who are given to drunkenness.
[Percy, in the introductory remarks to the ballad of The Heir of Linne, says, ‘the original of this ballad [The Heir of Linne] is found in the editor’s folio MS.; the breaches and defects of which rendered the insertion of supplemental stanzas necessary. These it is hoped the reader will pardon, as, indeed, the completion of the story was suggested by a modern ballad on a similar subject.’ The ballad thus alluded to by Percy is The Drunkard’s Legacy, which, it may be remarked, although styled by him a modern ballad, is only so comparatively speaking; for it must have been written long anterior to Percy’s time, and, by his own admission, must be older than the latter portion of the Heir of Linne. Our copy is taken from an old chap-book, without date or printer’s name, and which is decorated with three rudely executed wood-cuts.]
Young people all, I pray draw near,
And listen to my ditty here;
Which subject shows that drunkenness
Brings many mortals to distress!
As, for example, now I can
Tell you of one, a gentleman,
Who had a very good estate,
His earthly travails they were great.
We understand he had one son
Who a lewd wicked race did run;
He daily spent his father’s store,
When moneyless, he came for more.
The father oftentimes with tears,
Would this alarm sound in his ears;
‘Son! thou dost all my comfort blast,
And thou wilt come to want at last.’
The son these words did little mind,
To cards and dice he was inclined;
Feeding his drunken appetite
In taverns, which was his delight.
The father, ere it was too late,
He had a project in his pate,
Before his agèd days were run,
To make provision for his son.