to your children be a better friend.

'And then, my deare, which for my fault must dye,
Be not afraid the sting of death to try;
Like as we liv'd and lov'd together true,
So both at once, we'll bid the world adue.'

'The Lamentation of George Strangwidge' many times lapses into bathos,
but as in a way it answers the other ballad, I will quote a few verses:

'O Glanfield! cause of my committed crime,
Snared in wealth, as Birds in bush of lime,
What cause had thou to beare such wicked spight
Against my Love, and eke my hart's delight?

'I would to God thy wisdome had been more,
Or that I had not ent'red at the door;
Or that thou hadst a kinder Father beene
Unto thy Childe, whose yeares are yet but greene.

'Ulalia faire, more bright than summer's sunne,
Whose beauty had my heart for ever won,
My soule more sobs to thinke of thy disgrace,
Than to behold my owne untimely race.

'The deed late done in heart I doe lament,
But that I lov'd, I cannot it repent;
Thy seemely sight was ever sweet to me.
Would God my death could thy excuser be.'

Kilworthy House, which in those days belonged to the Glanvills, is now
the property of the Duke of Bedford.

Tavistock seems to have maintained an open mind, or perhaps was forced
into keeping open house, during the Civil War; but Fitzford House, then
belonging to Sir Richard Grenville, held out resolutely for the King,
until overpowered by Lord Essex. The people seem to have been rather
indifferent to the cause of the war, and very sensible of its hardships,
for it was here suggested that a treaty might be made, 'whereby the
peace of those two counties of Cornwall and Devon might be settled and
the war removed into other parts.' It was a really excellent method of
shifting an unpleasant burden on to other shoulders, but in actual
warfare, unfortunately, impracticable, although the treaty was drawn up
and for a short time a truce was observed.

At the end of this year (1645) Prince Charles paid a visit to the town,
and was so much 'annoyed by wet weather, that ever after, if anybody
remarked it was a fine day, he was wont to declare that, however fine it
might be elsewhere, he felt quite sure it must be raining at Tavistock.'
One cannot help wondering if his courtiers kept to English tradition of
perpetually speaking of the weather.

To walk away from Tavistock along the Tavy's bank is to follow