The Mock Wedding

She lived there still, in the house on the hill

Though she hadn’t been seen for years,

The Lady Margaret Hermanville

She’d lived in a mist of tears,

Her wedding day had been bright and gay

When her groom arrived at the door,

The devious Baron Wűrrtenberg

With his soldiers, back from the war.

 

The wedding service was short and sweet

Was held by a priest defrocked,

Was hurried through from the point of view

Of all that the Baron mocked,

He’d only wanted her dowry then

But claimed he wanted her hand,

And with it the House of Hermanville

With a thousand acres of land.

 

She’d gone alone to her wedding bed

While the Baron caroused ‘til dawn,

And lay awake with a constant ache,

What had she done, so wrong?

He made his quarters down with his men

While she languished up in her room,

But sought an audience then with him

On the following afternoon.

 

‘Where is the love you promised me

When you came and begged for my hand?

I may be wed but I’m now in dread

That you wanted me for my land!

Prove to me you’ve a noble heart

That there’s more to you than a gun,

And take your bride, for my barren womb

Should be stirring now with your son.’

 

The Baron laughed, and waved her away

‘It’s enough that you have my ring,

You have the title of Wűrrtenberg,

Of my heart, not even a thing.

I have a frau in Bavaria

Will be coming to live here soon,

So get you away to the Servants Hall,

You and your barren womb.’

 

The Lady Margaret stood in shock,

A tear had formed at her eye,

Her face as pale as the clouds that formed

Above on an azure sky,

‘I’ll go and petition the Cardinal,

I’ll have this wedding annulled.’

‘You’ll not be leaving this house again,’

He said, and her eyes had dulled.

 

A year went by and she sought some peace

Below in the Servants Hall,

While he went riding to fox and hounds

And didn’t see her at all,

His Gretchen came, to lord it above

At the feasts for his Men-at-Arms,

A flashy, rude, Bavarian trull

Who was loose with all of her charms.

 

The Baron watched her flirt with his men,

Grew angrier by the day,

He had her locked in an old sow’s pen

And sent all his men away,

He said, ‘You want to live like a pig

Then I’ll give you your heart’s desire,

He fed her truffles and day-old slop

And she slept on hay from the byre.

 

Back in the hall, he paced and paced

His echoing feet alone,

Began to think about Margaret

And thought that he might atone,

He heard the merriment down below

Drift up from the Servants Hall,

Went down the cavernous limestone steps

Where his wife was sat by the wall.

 

‘What’s this?’ he said, as he wandered in,

His wife was seven months gone,

The servants gathered around her there

And her face, it fairly shone.

‘You’ll never guess who the father is,

It could have been one of two,

You sent me off with a barren womb

But the only Barren is you!’

 

‘So pack your bags, you can leave us now,

You should have been more aware,

The deed of settlement that you signed

For my dowry said, ‘Beware!’

The house and land wouldn’t pass to you

But devolve to my first born son,

It could have been yours, but now, you see

It belongs to my little one.’

 

My mother never married again,

I’m lord of all I can see,

A thousand acres of farming land

My mother bequeathed to me,

I’ve watched her cry and I’ve watched her mourn

That I’m not the son of a Lord,

I’m proudly the son of a working man

With a mother that I adored!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[BlackRose]

Another fantastic piece penned. Nice to see that Margaret won the battle from the Barron. I know what you mean by getting hardly any reviews and a lot of lookers err readers. What can you do. For me I try to catch up when I can. I never like to miss reading your works. They always draw me and I reenact in my head as I go along. :o)

[Ellen Hammond]

Your forte is telling intriguing tales in rhyme, always with twist. Another awesome story. Much enjoyed.

[Claire in VA]

Good morning or night to you! I read this poem today. Brilliant piece of work, my Australian friend!
I love the rhythm and rhyme as well as the story. Congrats to Margaret! Too bad for the Baron.
Thank you for sharing your work.
~~Claire~~

[Marie]

Well, the Lady Margaret won after all, and I'm glad. I can't see that the Baron was any kind of lord. Her son has reason to be proud of his father--and should be happy not to have the Baron's blood in him.

[Ahena MK]

She’d gone alone to her wedding bed
While the Baron caroused ‘til dawn,
But devolve to my first born son,
It could have been yours, but now, you see
really really really good...

[David Lewis Paget]

11.45pm - 66 views, and 1 review. Well thanks folks!!!

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Lovely story. Sounds like the Barren lost out.