"To Coleshill Seat of Noble Pen" is by Anne Finch. There is no doubt about it. See my Annotated Chronology No. 249 (December 24, 1718). It is the second of three epistles sent to Mrs Catherine Fleming (Flavia) from Finch between October 1718 and early 1719; the two written on December 24th, this from the town, and directly after, from the country were conceived as companions and so appear in MS Harleian 7316, p 44-48 where they have lain unread all this while. The first ('Tis now my dearest friend become your turn') and third ('From me who whileom sung the town') appear in the Wellesley MS.
Here is a Table of Contents for the fourteen poems in a series in MS Harleian 7316. Five are known to be by Anne Finch. In each case I present the evidence on behalf of an attribution as well as evidence suggesting that the poem is not by Finch. In some cases the pages have been renumbered; I give only the final numbering.
First group: all four in a row, no breaks until a poem appears which is attributed to James Butler
[Second group: all three in a row, no breaks until a poem "Collins's Complaint: a song by Nic. Rowe" and known to be by Rowe; interestingly in this ms the phrase false nymph" is glossed by "lady W_nish" could it be "Lady Winchilsea." Did they have a flirtatious relationship? He sent her poems; she wrote upon these poems.]
[Third Group: 4 in a row following "Collins Complaint until poem which is attributed to "Sir Thomas."]
[Fourth Group: then directly after "Sir Thomas" long doggerel, 2 to Swift, one by Swift and then the following 4 in a row, a fourth on the death of Prior in the same hand after the following three.]
[By Flavia: To the Rt Hon ble Ann Countess of Winchelsea on her Obliging Compliance with my request to Paraphrase the last Chapter in Ecclesiastes. My heart ov'rlow's with Gratitude and Joy, pp 77r - 77v.]
The text below is from this MS Harleian 7316, pp 44-46; collated with MS Portland, Vol 19, pp 10-11 (a highly unclear squeezed in copy in two-column form; handwriting resembles that of Heneage in his later years), and corrected by MS Additional 28101, pp 163v-164r, "A Ballad to ...," a clear good copy which is the only one of the three to attribute the poem to "the Countess of Winchelsea." The text has "modernized" spelling, but retains original capitalization while the Harleian does not.
Since this poem is so gay, lively, and therefore important and reads so well with its companion, I am reprinting the companion (also from the MS Harleian), and am putting the list of the poems that appear in this manuscript in the second item from the MS Harleian so as not to make the reader wait.
For Mrs Catherine Flemming at ye Lord Digby's at Coleshill in Warwickshire. To Coleshill Seat of Noble Pen
MS Harleian, pp. 44-46.
1
To Coleshill Seat of Noble Pen
My Verse I will convey
For what should wit & Verse do hear
Now flemming is away
Whilst Scudamore is ye Country Lyes
We've hear no Use of hearts or Eyes
With a fa, la la la la
2
At Comerce round an Ample board
Our Gallants pas their Time
Content or not Content is the Word
A Language most Sublime
But great expence we save of Parts
By Hearts & Clubs, & Clubs & heart's
With A fa la la
3
Our Theatre of Usefull Joys
(Thro Ben's and Shakespear's Wit)
Breads now but one Continued noise
of Laugh from Box & Pit
Whilst in the Air Light tumblers fly
O're Man & Boy two Stories high
With A fa la la
4
Our Masquerades by Shew Diverts
But no more humour knows
No more ingage the head or heart
Or more enliven'd grow
Then if from all the Signs in Town
Nuns Turks & Saracens came down
With A fa la la la la
5
Leon's wafted o'er the Seas
Alas! why went he hence
Beneath whose roof we met at ease
And softly whisper'd Sence
But there's a plott devulged from Spain
And Cellamare is a Fool in grain
With A fa la la la la
6
That English Opera's are Sung
Is Owing to your flight
And ye each instrument wrong
Which us'd to give delight
Than come & our low Genious rase
Who Sigh for You in moveing keys
With A fa la la la
7
Our Officers fo Old refin'd
And Courtly to the fair
In whome both Love & Spirit Joyn'd
To form the Double Share
Now only Shew what they'd be at
By the fierce Cocade [Cockade] & Bully hatt
With a fa, la, la, la.
8
Our Senators upon the Sacks
As party guides debate
And if they One Another vex
No matter for the State
Whilst peace or war is not in Doubt
But who's in Place & who's kept out?
With a fa la, la la, la
9
The Commons all their Work have done
And now will soon be gone
To Shillings they have added one
Which lay their Land upon--
And whilst th'unwilling grant they fix [sign]
They growl at three & drink out Six [down Nine]
With A fa, la, la, la
10
Your Antiquary still proceeds
To Spy thro Ages past
And if it to your fancy feeds
To know what's found at Last
We've eight Square keys to Saxon locks
And Alfred's apoplectick box
With A fa la la la la
11
In Street of Arlngton I spend
Each Week one pleasing day
And in the Evening with my frend
At Serious Ombre play
But wn I should be mindfull Still]
I think of you & lose Codill
With A fa la, la, la, la,
12
Thus what So'er we do or Say
This Ballad does rehearse
How Dul we are how odly gay
Ive told you all in verse
Unless I to the Court shou'd come
But of ye Court no more but mum*
With a fal' la la la:
Clevaeland Row
Dec 24th 1718
*The Antiquary is Heneage, and the stanza describes one of his finds.
The internal references to Scudamore in this and first of three epistles to Catherine Fleming: "An Epistle to Mrs Catherine Fleming at Coleshill in Warwickshire but hastily perform'd & not corrected London October ye 18th: 1718' ("Tis now my dearest friend become your turn/To leave he town and mine alas to mourn"), show this to be a sort of continuation of the first; but the form (rhymed iambic couplets) and mood of seriousness separates this ballad and the next from the first poem.
From Harleian 7316, pp. 47-49, collated against Wellesley, pp 89-91.
See Annotated Chronology No. 251 (1719, summer?: A letter dated August 5, 1719, from Heneage to Hilkiah Bedford from Malshanger Farm where he and Ann are staying with, among others, Bedford's daughter: Ann at Malshanger Farm, Hampshire).
A Ballad to Mrs Catherine Fleming in London from Malshanger farm in Hampshire
1
From me who whileom sung the Town
This second Ballad comes:
To let you know we are got down,
From hurry,smoke, & drums:
And every visitor that rowls
In restless Coach from Mall to Paul's
With a fl-la-la-la-la-la.
2
And now were I to paint the seat,
(As well-bred poets use;)
I sho'd embellish our retreat,
By favour of the muse:
Tho' to no villa we pretend,
But a plain farm at the best end
With a fa-la &c
3
Where innocence & quiet reigns,
And no distrust is known;
His nightly safety none maintains,
But ways they do in Town:
Who rising loosen bolt and bar,
We draw the lach and out we are.
With a fa-la &c
4
For jarring sounds in London streets,
With still are passing by;
Where cowcumbers with Sando meets,
And for loud mastry vie:
The driver whistling to his team,
Here wakes us from some rural dream
With a fa-la &c
5
From rising hills thro' distant views;
We see the Sun decline;
Whislt every where the eye persues
The grazeing flocks are kine:
Which home at night the Farmer brings
And not the Post's but sheeps bell rings
With a fa-la &c
6
We silver trouts and Cray-fish eat,
Just taken from the stream;
And never think our meal compleat,
Without frsh curds and cream:
And as we pass by the barn floor,
We choose our supper fromt he door.
With a fa-la &c
7
Beneath our feet the partridge springs,
As to the woods we go;
Where birds scarce stretch their painted wings,
So little fear they shew
But when our outspread hoops they spy
They look when we like them shou'd fly.
Wtih a fa-la &c
8
Thro' verdant circles as we stray,
To which no end we know;
As we o'er hanging boughs survey,
And tufted grass below:
Delight into the fancy falls,
And happy days and verse recalls
With a fa-la &c
9
Oh! why did I these shades forsake,
And shelter of the grave;
The flowring shrub the rustlng brake,
The solitude I love:
Where Emperours have fixt their lot,
And greatly chose to be forgot.
With a fa-la &c
10
Then how can I from hence depart,
Unless my pleasing friend;
Shou'd now her sweet harmonious art,
Until these shades extend:
And like old Orpheus powerfull song,
Draw me and all my woods along*
With a fa-la &c
11
So charm'd like Birnam's they wou'd rise,
And march in goodly row;
But since it might the town surprize,
To see me travel so:
I must from soothing joys like these,
Too soon return in open chaise
With a fa-la &c
12
Mean while accept what I have writ,
To shew this rural scene;
Nor look for sharp satyrick wit,
From off the balmy plain:
The country breeds no throny bays,
But mirth and love and honest praise.
With a fa-la-la-la-la-la
*Spenser imitated.
Both these poems and several of the others in the MS Harleian 7316 show Ann in a happy mood, reveal what she could be given congenial companionship, quiet, and genuinely enjoyable things to do in the country. They reveal her social side in the pleasantest light we have.