(Drawing by Lilli's grandson,
Ben Bishop-age 12)

The Ballad of Leeds Devil
(The "Leeds Devil," or "Jersey Devil"
was named state demon of New Jersey in 1939.)
In seventeen and thirty five, Leeds farmhouse birthing room
was where a newborn babe emerged to face a life of doom.
Outside, a savage storm was ominous that he was cursed.
Inside,  attending midwives pitied him from the very first.
For, there was no mother's welcome; she screeched like something wild.
"The devil take him;" she could not abide a thirteenth child.
The old women tried to sway her, but she would not be consoled,
as midwives watched what happened next, it made their blood run cold.

The baby sprouted horns, wings, tail and hooves before their eyes.
Long and brown and dragon-like, he gained in strength and size.
The assemblage struck with terror at this transformation staged,
cringed at the creature's screams that blended with the storm that raged.
Then, he fell on them and trounced them, with his long, forked leath'ry tail
before rising up the chimley with a loud, blood-curdling wail.

Thereafter, a marauder terrorized the farms around.
Cloven hoofprints were among the clues the farmers found.
Cows went dry, corn parched, stock and fowl would disappear.
Children weren''t allowed outdoors; their parents lived in fear.
From farm to farm he'd wing his way; men glimpsed him in great fright
as howls of dogs and hoots of owls traced his course thru' the night.
And, when the news about the Leeds' child finally leaked out,
their mystery was solved; he was the prowler, without doubt.

Portending mischief five long years, their sanity to test;
a clergyman was called to put the demon's soul to rest.
This virtuous man, empowered by candle, book and bell,
the beast was banished for one hundred years, beneath his spell.
And, that is how all found peace - the devil they called Leeds,
and citizens down Jersey, who were weary of his deeds.
Crops thrived, and herd and henneries were safe without a raid.
Children laughed and played 'til dark, at long last unafraid.

The century passed, and folks forgot; tradition became dim.
Then, Leed's imp burst his cerements, and with a renewed vim,
tormented by his birthright, he went whiffling thru the trees,
and burly men, who sighted him, fell trembling to their knees.

And there are those who claim that they have seen him to this day;
came upon him in the woods paths from Freehold to Cape May.
So, little younguns, mind your folks, don't go far from your door.
If he gets his clutches on you, you'll regret it evermore!
- Lillian Arnold Lopez "Pineylore"

HOME