Tradition tells, a faithful negro brav'd Singly their savage rage, and bold oppos'd Their passage to the room where thoughtless slept His dearly honour'd master, till at last, O'erpower'd by numbers, and o'erwhelm'd with wounds, Alas! he nobly fell. Their reeking hands Unsated yet, had still to execute Deeds of black import, and dire schemes of blood: For ah! unarm'd, and in his bed surpris'd, Vilely they butchered the devoted Lord! Meanwhile a servant maid, with pious guile, Bore in her apron, artfully conceal'd, The infant heir; and many a danger brav'd, Saved him uninjured from the ruffian's sword, The Negro's valour fav'ring his escape. The interest in the story has been rather increased than lessened by the recovery of the ancient ballad of "Sir John Butler," printed by the Early English Text Society from Bishop Percy's folio MS. (v. iii. p. 210). In the following ballad the story as related in the Dodsworth MSS. is adhered to with tolerable accuracy:-- Listen, lords and ladies fair And gentles, to my roundelay. List, youths and maidens debonnaire, To this most doleful tragedy. Of Pincerna, the noble race, That Botiller was yclept, I say; And Bewsey Hall, that goodly place, Where traitors did the Butler slay. Fatal the feud 'tween him and one Whose sister was his wedded wife; The proud Earl Derby, whose false son Did plot to take the Butler's life. Savage by name and nature too, Piers Legh, that pierced all too free, Join'd with Lord Stanley and his crew, And bought the warder's treacherie. A light shone from the warder's tow'r, When all the house lay sunk in sleep, To guide those murd'rers, fell and stour, Across the moat, dark, wide, and deep. In leathern boats they cross'd and then The warder softly oped the gate: Bold fronted them the chamberlain; Holcrofte his master warn'd too late. Him they slew first, and then the Knight, While sleeping, 'neath their daggers bled:-- A faithful negro, black as night, Snatcht up the infant heir and fled. The felon porter craved reward For treach'rous guiding in the dark: They paid him; then for his false guard They hung him on a tree i' th' park. In vain they sought--the child was saved; But gallant Butler was no more: That night his wife in London dreamt That Bewsey Hall did swim with gore. When that she learn'd the foul deed done, She pray'd they might have felon's doom; But might 'gainst right the struggle won; Then sigh'd she forth in bitter gloom:--