Market Lavington Museum

A poem by an unknown person

Parish councils don’t always get it right. Back in the 1890s improvements were made at Broadwell. One unknown local was clearly not pleased with the changes and turned to verse to make her point.

We have a typed version of the poem, transcribed below. Enjoy!

This is about improvements carried out at Broadwell in 1890s, by the Parish Council.

Since writing these lines my William I’ve wed,
Be the path rough or smooth it together we’ll tread
And we’re helped by dear children a son and a daughter,
Who heap up the wood and carry us water.

It happened one day I was left all alone
With William whose rheumatiz racked every bone.
I wanted some water to draw from the well

Which the new Parish Council have done up so well.

So off with my bucket so lightly I ran,
The water to get to make spick and span
The home where my William and I now reside,

To the steps of the well with the swift flowing tide.

Alas : for a tragedy I now have to tell,
My balance I lost and I fell in the well.

I fell on my face and in less than a crack,
The icy cold water was over my back.

No one was near my discomfort to see
But a Warminster schoolboy (who is no friend to me).
When he saw my sad state he started me to tease.

But ’twas no laughing matter, I was wet to chemise.

I pray for the Lavington Council so dear
And will use all my efforts in the oncoming year
To get the whole lot, bag and baggage, rejected

And pull down the swell new fence they’ve erected.