When a child I heard the story, but somewhat varied, that Lady Howard drove nightly from Okehampton Castle to Launceston Castle in a black coach driven by a headless coachman, and preceded by a fire-breathing black hound; that when the coach stopped at a door, there was sure to be a death in that house the same night. There was a ballad about it, of which I can only recall fragments. Mr. Sheppard picked it up also at South Brent from old Helmore the miller; but being more concerned about the tune than the words, and thinking that I had the latter already, he did not trouble himself to take down the whole ballad. In the first edition of _Songs of the West_, I gave the ballad reconstructed by me from the poor fragments that I recollected; and as such I give it here:-- My ladye hath a sable coach, And horses two and four; My ladye hath a black blood-hound That runneth on before. My ladye’s coach hath nodding plumes, The driver hath no head; My ladye is an ashen white, As one that long is dead. “Now pray step in!” my ladye saith, “Now pray step in and ride.” I thank thee, I had rather walk Than gather to thy side. The wheels go round without a sound, Or tramp or turn of wheels; As cloud at night, in pale moonlight, Along the carriage steals. “Now pray step in!” my ladye saith, “Now prithee come to me.” She takes the baby from the crib, She sits it on her knee. “Now pray step in!” my ladye saith, “Now pray step in and ride.” Then deadly pale, in waving veil, She takes to her the bride. “Now pray step in!” my ladye saith, “There’s room I wot for you.” She wav’d her hand, the coach did stand, The Squire within she drew. “Now pray step in!” my ladye saith, “Why shouldst thou trudge afoot?” She took the gaffer in by her, His crutches in the boot. I’d rather walk a hundred miles, And run by night and day, Than have that carriage halt for me And hear my ladye say-- “Now pray step in, and make no din, Step in with me to ride; There’s room, I trow, by me for you, And all the world beside.” As a fact, Lady Howard did not have a carriage but a Sedan-chair. An inventory of her goods was taken at her death for probate, and this shows that she had no wheeled conveyance. The story of the Death Coach is probably a vague reminiscence of the Goddess of Death travelling over the world collecting human souls. The authorities for the Life of Lady Howard are:-- Lord Lansdowne’s _Vindication of Sir Richard Grenville_, printed in Holland, 1654, reprinted in Lord Lansdowne’s _Works_, 1732; also Clarendon’s _History of the Great Rebellion_, and Mrs. G. Radford’s “Lady Howard, of Fitzford,” in the _Transactions_ of the Devonshire Association, 1890. THE BIDLAKES, OF BIDLAKE