The White Bird of the Oxenhams of South Tawton - Part 2

The White Bird of the Oxenhams - From a scanned version of Devonshire characters and strange events by Sabine Baring-Gould, published in 1908, http://www.archive.org/details/devonshirecharac00bariuoft

"...For those who may be unable to procure the whole of the poem, I select one or two stanzas which may be interesting.

Where lofty hills in grandeur meet,
And Taw meandering flows,
There is a calm and sweet retreat
Where once a mansion rose.
 

There dwelt Sir James of Oxenham,
A brave and liberal lord :
Benighted travellers never came
Unwelcome to his board.

Here it goes on to say that Margaret was sole heiress to his property ; she was wooed by one Bertram, who from a blow on the head became an imbecile. Margaret's grief was great, but " consoling time healed the heart with anguish grieved," and " soft vermilion of her cheek again begins to flow."

Then John the Knight of Roxamcave
Sought her fair hand to gain :
And he was handsome, young, and brave
How could he plead in vain ?
 

He fondly pressed his Margaret
To fix their nuptial day,
And on its joyful eve they met
With friends and kinsfolk gay.

~#~

How happy was Sir James that night,
Unburdened of his care.
For he believed, with fond delight,
That heaven had heard his prayer.
 

~#~

Then up he rose, with joy elate,
To speak unto Sir John,
And rapt desire, outspeeding fate,
In thought he called him son.
 

But while the dear unpractised word
Was forming on his tongue,
He saw a silvery-breasted bird
Fly o'er the festive throng.
 

~#~

Now John, and Margaret, and her sire,
With many a dame and knight,
Ranged round the altar, heard the friar
Begin the holy rite.
 

When Margaret, with terrific screams,
Made all with horror start.
Oh, heavens ! her blood in torrents streamed,
A dagger's in her heart.
 

Behind stood Bertram, who then drew
Away the reeking blade ;
And frantically laughed to view
The life-blood of his maid.

" Now marry me, proud maid !" he cried,
" Thy blood with mine shall wed."
Then dashed the dagger in his side,
And on the ground fell dead.

Poor Margaret, too, grows cold with death,
And round her, hovering, flies
The phantom bird for her last breath,
To bear it to the skies."

 

Hewett 1900

 

Map - Okehampton
Map - South Tawton