In short, my merits are so bright to view
How good soe’er you may be, just or true,
You can but halve my worth, for I am—double you.
Cheltenham.
THE MERRY MONARCH,
AND “BLYTHE COCKPEN.”
While Charles II. was sojourning in Scotland, before the battle of Worcester, his chief confidant and associate was the laird of Cockpen, called by the nick-naming fashion of the times, “Blythe Cockpen.” He followed Charles to the Hague, and by his skill in playing Scottish tunes, and his sagacity and wit, much delighted the merry monarch. Charles’s favourite air was “Brose and Butter;” it was played to him when he went to bed, and he was awakened by it. At the restoration, however, Blythe Cockpen shared the fate of many other of the royal adherents; he was forgotten, and wandered upon the lands he once owned in Scotland, poor and unfriended. His letters to the court were unpresented, or disregarded, till, wearied and incensed, he travelled to London; but his mean garb not suiting the rich doublets of court, he was not allowed to approach the royal presence. At length, he ingratiated himself with the king’s organist, who was so enraptured with Cockpen’s wit and powers of music, that he requested him to play on the organ before the king at divine service. His exquisite skill did not attract his majesty’s notice, till, at the close of the service, instead of the usual tune, he struck up “Brose and Butter,” with all its energetic merriment. In a moment the royal organist was ordered into the king’s presence. “My liege, it was not me! it was not me!” he cried, and dropped upon his knees. “You!” cried his majesty, in a rapture, “you could never play it in your life—where’s the man? let me see him.” Cockpen presented himself on his knee. “Ah, Cockpen, is that you?—Lord, man, I was like to dance coming out of the church!”—“I once danced too,” said Cockpen, “but that was when I had land of my own to dance on.”—“Come with me,” said Charles taking him by the hand, “you shall dance to Brose and Butter on your own lands again to the nineteenth generation;” and as far as he could, the king kept his promise.
Topography.
SINGULAR INTERMENT.
The following curious entry is in the register of Lymington church, under the year 1736:—
“Samuel Baldwin, esq. sojourner in this parish, was immersed, without the Needles, sans cérémonie, May 20.”