%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE CRUEL COOPER, / OF RATCLIFF. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/28/2014 33510

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

NEAR Ratcliff Cross liv'd a cooper there, / Who had a vitruos wife, comely and fair, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 862 THE CRUEL COOPER, / OF RATCLIFF. THE CRUEL COOPER, OF RATCLIFF. THE CRUEL COOPER, OF RATCLIFF. Printer J. Pitts ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 6/28/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction/ health country/ nation family maritime marriage religious concepts servitude violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/28/2014 2:41:32 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 6/28/2014 2:41:32 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/28/2014 2:41:32 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Palmer Browne, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/28/2014 2:41:32 PM Transcriptionist Two Trafecanty, Luci Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/28/2014 2:41:32 PM Transcriptionist One Gibbs, Natalie Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/23/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/20/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/7/2012 Bibliographer Elizabeth Aguilar Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE CRUEL COOPER,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">OF RATCLIFF.</hi></hi></seg>
NEAR Ratcliff Cross liv'd a cooper there, Who had a vitruos wife, comely and fair, He by this prudent woman had a son, Besides this youth they children ne'er had one, Tho wise and prudent, yet this cruel man, Did oftimes beat her with a cruel hand, As he did one day, with grief of heart, The youth with tears did take his mother's part. Cries he, Father, I'm afraid you will, With kicks and cuffs my tender mother kill, Hearing these words he then his son did beat, And that night turn'd him into the street, Saying, if thou com'st here any more, I'll break thy bones, he then lock'd the door, In the wide street this lad did lay all night, And in the morning came when it was light. But when this man look'd and saw his son, In a vast passion he to him did run, And with an axe knoc'd him on the crown, Which laid the youth along upon the ground. Being thus serv'd in tears he did lament, Then he got up and out of doors he went, Saying, if I should any longer stay, He in his wrath will take my life away.
And prevent what dangers may ensue, Father and mother he bids both adieu; And having knowledge of his father's trade, Went Cooper's mate to Turkey it is said. He lik'd the country so well we find The ship came back. and left the lad behind; He plac'd himself with a native to dwell, Whose family lov'd him very well. Tho' young in years he was grown very tall, And of a comely countenance withal; The native damsel did him much admire, And to enjoy him she had a vast desire His master kept him for his servant man, And in a short time, by death's destroying hand; His master happened to trip away, Who being dead the young man bore the sway. His mistress lov'd him as she did her life And in a short time was made his lawful wife; She was prodigious rich we understand, And she had many slaves at her command. Now I will leave him for a little while, With Providence on him and her to smile, And in the next part some enquiry make, What sort of life this cruel sire doth take, Near Radcliff Cross he lived years tis known And to his wife he was a cruel one; And in process of time death did them part, And 'tis supposed this man broke her heart, And after her death he could not thrive at all, Day after day he down at heels did fall, And by degrees this man was brought so low, For debt himself he was afraid to shew, The bailiff waited for him day and night, He knowing of the same kept out of sight, And to prevent his going into jail, In a merchantman he unto sea did sail. Thus he for debt was forc'd to fly from home, And on the raging seas where billows foam To their great grief, this man and twenty more, Were carried pris'ners to the Turkish shore It happened so, as we understand, They were made slaves unto his son's command; Full half a year in slavery they had been. In all which time his son he had not seen, This cooper he was aged sixty two, Who was the oldest of the ship's crew; Being stiff with age his task could not perform, By which he suffered many a heavy blow. The task master to him was sharp indeed, He often whipped him till he made him bleed; Upon a time he lash'd him so one day, He could no longer stand, but down did lay,
Being laid down the task-master did go, And gave the head master this to know; Crying Sir, your slave he is an aged man, Will not perform his task do all that I can. He tells me plainly, that his work is done, When, hearing this, the head master his son, Went out among the slaves, where he found, His aged father lying on the ground. Not knowing him with great severity, He lash'd his father very grieviously, Which made him cry, Oh, Sir, my flesh is very sore, Do hold thy hand, and strike me no more The task is hard your servant puts on me, What can I do that I am most free, To suffer this I'm not able to live, Kill me outright and I will you forgive Hearing these words his son did him view, And said tell me what countryman are you? His answer was I came from Old England, I am a cooper, Sir, from fair London. My name is Robert Stark, 'tis known right well I was a man in great repute did dwell, But as it prov'd fortune frowned on me, Now 'tis my lot your suffering slave to be. Have you no family, he replied no; I buried a wife seven years ago, And I had a son a hopeful child was he, Three years before her death he went from me. I have not heard from him now all the while, I cruel was both to my wife and child, And I do really think now from my heart, 'Tis now for my cruelty, I thus do smart, Now hearing this, his son with grief was fill'd, And tears like water that was finely still'd, Ran down his cheeks amain tear after tear, To think that he had lash'd his father dear. Then he aside this task-master did call, And said, do not abuse this man at all, He is my father, but don't let him know, I am his son. Then home he did go And to his closet he in private went, And there with bitter cries did sore lament, At length by chance his wife did him hear, Who said what makes you so grieve my dear. His answer was to grieve great cause I have, For my own father is become my slave; Not knowing him I lash'd him o'er and o'er, To think of this grieveth me very sore. To think the curse of God should light on me But what I did it was innocently. O, wife what shall I do? my heart doth bleed, Do let my father come to me with speed, They sent for him and when he came there, They of his tender flesh did take great care, His bleeding wounds were anointed with oil, And the poor man stood trembling all the while. This being done, choice linen, fine and soft, And other costly things to him were brought,
And in these garments when he was array'd, To them with tears lift up his eyes and said. Lord what am I more than another slave, That I such favour of my master have, Blessed be his name that my friend doth stand, To pity me thus in a foreign land. Hearing these words his son could not refrain; His tears from falling down, and wept amain, He said, the man, who thus has for you done, Behold, he is your dear and only son. I'm grieved to think that I proved so severe; To lay my hands upon my father dear, But God will pardon me, because I did not know that thou my father was. Hearing these words like one struck in amaze, He with a blush then on his son did gaze, Saying, are you my son?---- alas! alas! By this we see what God can bring to pass. My son, my son, I'm glad thy face to see, But what astonishment is here for me, That I, who beat my child quite out of door, Should thus be forc'd his favour to implore, Father, the Lord did these things foresee, That you should come your child's slave to be, And God was pleas'd these things to do by you, To shew what he can bring proud mortals too. The Lord has plac'd us here to live and reign, To be thy friends to ease thee of thy pain, I'll succour thee till death, and for thy sake, I of my native slaves great care will take. He cherish'd him oftimes, but on a day, His wife was pleas'd then these words to say, Husband, because he was cruel unto you, I ne'er shall love your father, that is true I do not care that he should here remain, From whence he came let him return again, And unto him we will some riches give, Enough to cherish him while he doth live. For quietness sake he made this reply, But turn'd him round and wept most bitterly, To think that he must from his father part Grief like a spear stuck him unto the heart. Then in short time his father left the shore, And in a merchantman ship he did come o'er, Again to England, and did bring to town As much in riches as five thousand pounds. He ow'd a hundred pounds, which he paid, When being out of debt, these words he said, First my dear God, I give thanks to thee, Next for my child, my prayers shall be, For had it been another, I deserv'd, In slavery till death, I must have serv'd, And ne'er had met one in that distant place, Thus to commiserate my wretched case. Now to conclude young men let these lines, Be well engrav'd in your hearts and minds That is to serve the Lord and shun the devil. And like this young man still do good for evil.
Printed and sold by J. Pitts, NO. 14, Great St. Andrew-street, seven Dials. Price One Penny