Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England Part 15

'O! never be doubtful of what will ensue, No manner of danger will happen to you; At my own disposal I am, I declare, Receive me with love, or destroy me with care.'

'Dear madam, don't fix your affection on me, You are fit for some lord of a n.o.ble degree, That is able to keep up your honour and fame; I am but a poor sailor, from England who came.

'A man of mean fortune, whose substance is small, I have not wherewith to maintain you withal, Sweet lady, according to honour and state; Now this is the truth, which I freely relate.'

The lady she lovingly squeezed his hand, And said with a smile, 'Ever blessed be the land That bred such a n.o.ble, brave seaman as thee; I value no honours, thou'rt welcome to me;

'My parents are dead, I have jewels untold, Besides in possession a million of gold; And thou shalt be lord of whatever I have, Grant me but thy love, which I earnestly crave.'

Then, turning aside, to himself he replied, 'I am courted with riches and beauty beside; This love I may have, but my Ruth is denied.'

Wherefore he consented to make her his bride.

The lady she clothed him costly and great; His n.o.ble deportment, both proper and straight, So charmed the innocent eye of his dove, And added a second new flame to her love.

Then married they were without longer delay; Now here we will leave them both glorious and gay, To speak of fair Ruth, who in sorrow was left At home with her parents, of comfort bereft.

PART III.

When under the window with an aching heart, He told his fair Ruth he so soon must depart, Her parents they heard, and well pleased they were, But Ruth was afflicted with sorrow and care.

Now, after her lover had quitted the sh.o.r.e, They kept her confined a fall twelvemonth or more, And then they were pleased to set her at large, With laying upon her a wonderful charge:

To fly from a seaman as she would from death; She promised she would, with a faltering breath; Yet, nevertheless, the truth you shall hear, She found out a way for to follow her dear.

Then, taking her gold and her silver also, In seaman's apparel away she did go, And found out a master, with whom she agreed, To carry her over the ocean with speed.

Now, when she arrived at the kingdom of Spain, From city to city she travelled amain, 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 n.o.ble 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 grieved 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, 'He's brought home enough, as he's brought home my child; 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!

Ballad: 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 fict.i.tious, 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 as 'the Abbot's Park, being at the entrance of Redding town.' At the Dissolution the estate pa.s.sed 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 was 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 high-shrievalty 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 far 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 n.o.ble mind.

Such a n.o.ble disposition Had this lady, with submission, Of whom I this sonnet write, Store of wealth, and beauty bright.