Enquiring about everywhere for her love,
Who now had been gone seven years and above.
In Cadiz, as she walked along in the street,
Her love and his lady she happened to meet,
But in such a garb as she never had seen,-
She looked like an angel, or beautiful queen.
With sorrowful tears she turned her aside:
'My jewel is gone, I shall ne'er be his bride;
But, nevertheless, though my hopes are in vain,
I'll never return to old England again.

'But here, in this place, I will now be confined;
It will be a comfort and joy to my mind,

To see him sometimes, though he thinks not of me,
Since he has a lady of noble degree.'

Now, while in the city fair Ruth did reside,
Of a sudden this beautiful lady she died,
And, though he was in the possession of all,
Yet tears from his eyes in abundance did fall.

As he was expressing his piteous moan,

Fair Ruth came unto him, and made herself known;
He started to see her, but seemed not coy,

Said he, 'Now my sorrows are mingled with joy!'
The time of the mourning he kept it in Spain,
And then he came back to old England again,
With thousands, and thousands, which he did possess
Then glorious and gay was sweet Ruth in her dress.

PART IV.

When over the seas to fair Sandwich he came,
With Ruth, and a number of persons of fame,
Then all did appear most splendid and gay,
As if it had been a great festival day.

Now, when that they took up their lodgings, behold
He stripped off his coat of embroidered gold,

And presently borrows a mariner's suit,

That he with her parents might have some dispute,

Before they were sensible he was so great;
And when he came in and knocked at the gate,
He soon saw her father, and mother likewise,
Expressing their sorrow with tears in their eyes.
To them, with obeisance, he modestly said,
'Pray where is my jewel, that innocent maid,
Whose sweet lovely beauty doth thousands excel?
I fear, by your weeping, that all is not well!'
'No, no! she is gone, she is utterly lost;

We have not heard of her a twelvemonth at most!
Which makes us distracted with sorrow and care,
And drowns us in tears at the point of despair.'
'I'm grieved to hear these sad tidings,' he cried.
'Alas! honest young man,' her father replied,
I heartily wish she'd been wedded to you,
For then we this sorrow had never gone through.'
Sweet Henry he made them this answer again;
'I am newly come home from the kingdom of Spain,
From whence I have brought me a beautiful bride,
And am to be married to-morrow,' he cried;
'And if you will go to my wedding,' said he,
'Both you and your lady right welcome shall be.'
They promised they would, and accordingly came,
Not thinking to meet with such persons of fame.
All decked with their jewels of rubies and pearls,
As equal companions of lords and of earls,

Fair Ruth, with her love, was as gay as the rest,
So they in their marriage were happily blessed.
Now, as they returned from the church to an inn,
The father and mother of Ruth did begin
Their daughter to know, by a mole they behold,
Although she was clothed in a garment of gold.
With transports of joy they flew to the bride,
'O! where hast thou been, sweetest daughter?' they cried,
"Thy tedious absence has grievèd us sore,

As fearing, alas! we should see thee no more.'

'Dear parents,' said she, '

many

hazards I run,

To fetch home my love, and your dutiful son;
Receive him with joy, for 'tis very well known,
He seeks not your wealth, he's enough of his own.'
Her father replied, and he merrily smiled, [child;
'He's brought home enough, as he's brought home my
A thousand times welcome you are, I declare,
Whose presence disperses both sorrow and care.'
Full seven long days in feasting they spent;
The bells in the steeple they merrily went,
And many fair pounds were bestowed on the poor,-
The like of this wedding was never before!

THE BERKSHIRE LADY'S GARLAND.

IN FOUR PARTS.

To the tune of The Royal Forester.

[WHEN we first met with this very pleasing English ballad, we deemed the story to be wholly fictitious, but 'strange' as the ' relation 'may appear, the incidents narrated are 'true' or at least founded on fact. The scene of the ballad is Whitley Park, near Reading, in Berkshire, and not, as some suppose, Calcot House, which was not built till 1759. Whitley is mentioned by Leland as the Abbot's Park, being at the entrance of Redding town.' At the Dissolution the estate passed to the crown, and the mansion seems, from time to time, to have been used as a royal 'palace' till the reign of Elizabeth, by whom it was granted, along with the estate, to Sir Francis Knollys; it became afterwards, by purchase, the property of the Kendricks, an ancient race, descended from the Saxon kings. William Kendrick, of Whitley, armr. was created a baronet in 1679, and died in 1685, leaving issue one son, Sir William Kendrick, of Whitley, Bart., who married Miss Mary House, of Reading, and died in 1699, without issue male, leaving an only daughter. It was this rich heiress, who possessed 'store of wealth and beauty bright,' that is the heroine of the ballad. She married Benjamin Child, Esq., a young and handsome, but very poor attorney of Reading, and the marriage is traditionally reported to have been brought about exactly as related in the ballad. We have not been able to ascertain the exact date of the marriage, which was celebrated in St. Mary's

Church, Reading, the bride wearing a thick veil; but the ceremony must have taken place some time about 1705. In 1714, Mr. Child was high sheriff of Berkshire. As he was an humble and

obscure personage previously to his espousing the heiress of Whitley, and, in fact, owed all his wealth and influence to his marriage, it cannot be supposed that immediately after his union he would be elevated to so important and dignified a post as the highshrievalty of the very aristocratical county of Berks. We may, therefore, consider nine or ten years to have elapsed betwixt his marriage and his holding the office of high sheriff, which he filled when he was about thirty-two years of age. The author of the ballad is unknown: supposing him to have composed it shortly after the events which he records, we cannot be for wrong in fixing its date about 1706. The earliest broadside we have seen contains a rudely executed, but by no means bad likeness of Queen Anne, the reigning monarch at that period.]

PART I.

SHOWING CUPID'S CONQUEST OVER A COY LADY OF
FIVE THOUSAND A YEAR.

BACHELORS of every station,

Mark this strange and true relation,

Which in brief to you I bring,—
Never was a stranger thing!

You shall find it worth the hearing;
Loyal love is most endearing,
When it takes the deepest root,
Yielding charms and gold to boot.
Some will wed for love of treasure;
But the sweetest joy and pleasure
Is in faithful love, you'll find,
Graced with a noble mind.

Such a noble disposition

Had this lady, with submission,
Of whom I this sonnet write,
Store of wealth, and beauty bright.
She had left, by a good grannum,
Full five thousand pounds per annum,
Which she held without control;
Thus she did in riches roll.

Though she had vast store of riches,
Which some persons much bewitches,
Yet she bore a virtuous mind,
Not the least to pride inclined.
Many noble persons courted
This young lady, 'tis reported;
But their labour proved in vain,
They could not her favour gain.
Though she made a strong resistance,
Yet by Cupid's true assistance,
She was conquered after all;
How it was declare I shall.
Being at a noble wedding,

Near the famous town of Redding,*
A young gentleman she saw,
Who belonged to the law.

As she viewed his sweet behaviour,
Every courteous carriage gave her
New addition to her grief;

Forced she was to seek relief.

Privately she then enquired
About him, so much admired;
Both his name, and where he dwelt,―
Such was the hot flame she felt.
Then, at night, this youthful lady
Called her coach, which being ready,
Homewards straight she did return;
But her heart with flames did burn.

PART II.

SHOWING THE LADY'S LETTER OF A CHALLENGE TO FIGHT HIM UPON HIS REFUSING TO WED HER IN A MASK, WITHOUT

KNOWING WHO SHE WAS.

Night and morning, for a season,
In her closet would she reason

This is the ancient way of spelling the name of Reading. In Percy's version of Barbara Allen, that ballad commences In Scarlet town,' which, in the common stall copies, is rendered In Redding town.' The former is apparently a pun upon the old orthographyRedding.