THE LADY BARBARA FITZROY.

JAMES, Earl of Arran, who succeeded his father as fourth Duke of Hamilton, having, after the death of his first wife, Anne Spencer, in 1690, seduced, under a promise of marriage, Lady Barbara Fitzroy, youngest daughter of King Charles II., by the Duchess of Cleveland, she bore a son to him at Cleveland House, St. James's, 30th March, 1691, during his incarceration in the Tower, where he was thrown by the warrant of Mary II. That Queen, and the Earl's mother, the Duchess of Hamilton, were so incensed at the discovery of the intrigue, as to make the banishment to the Continent of the unfortunate girl, then but in her eighteenth year, the only condition of Arran's release. Lady Barbara was accordingly forced to abandon her infant, and retire to the convent of Pontoise, in France, where she afterwards died.

In commenting on this mournful passage in the "Romance of Real Life," Miss Strickland justly remarks, that "it would have been more in consistency with the angelic characteristics attributed to Queen Mary, if she had used her power for the purpose of inducing the Earl of Arran to repair his wrongs, in some measure, by a legal marriage with his victim, the daughter of her uncle Charles, than to drive her into a foreign land, and a conventual prison."

Her ladyship's son was brought up at Chiswick, un dar the care of her grandmother, Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, and afterwards entered the service of James II. He wrote a book, called "Transactions of the reign of Queen Anne," which contains much curious information

His father, the Duke of Hamilton, was slain in the memorable duel with Lord Mohun, which we have Larrated in a preceding page.

THE SPANISH LADY'S LOVE.

OF Sir John Bolle, of Thorpe Hall, in Lincolnshire, who distinguished himself at Cadiz, in 1596, tradition records a romantic story.

Among the prisoners taken at that memorable siege, one fair captive of great beauty, high rank, and immense wealth, was the peculiar charge of our gallant knight, and, as customary in such interesting situations, became. deeply enamoured of her chivalrous captor, so much so, that she proposed accompanying him to England as his page. Faithful, however, to his conjugal vows, Sir John rejected the lady's suit, who in consequence retired to a convent, having previously transmitted to her unconscious rival in England her jewels, and other ornaments of value, including her own portrait drawn in greena circumstance which obtained for the original, in the neighbourhood of Thorpe Hall, the designation of the "Green Lady"--and still, according to the superstition of successive generations, that seat is deemed haunted by the lady in green, "who is wont," says the credulous historian, "nightly to take her station beneath a particular tree close to the mansion." It is also stated, that during the life of Sir John's son, Sir Charles Bolle, a knife and fork were laid for her especial use, should she feel disposed to take her place at the festive board. The attachment of the Green Lady gave rise to a

curious ballad, written about this period, entitled, “Th: Spanish Lady's Love for an Englishman," a beautiful edition of which has recently been illustrated by Lady Dalmeny.

The following version is taken from Dr. Percy's "Relics of Ancient English Poetry:"

Will you hear a Spanish lady,

How she wooed an English man?
Garments gay and rich as may be,
Deck'd with jewels she had on.

Of a comely countenance and grace was she,
And by birth and parentage of high degree.

As his prisoner there he kept her,
In his hands her life did lye;
Cupid's bands did tye them faster
By the liking of an eye.

In his courteous company was all her joy,
To favour him in anything she was not coy.

But at last there came commandment
For to set the ladies free,
With their jewell still adorned,

None to do them injury.

Then said this lady mild, "Full woe is me;
O let me still sustain this kind captivity!

"Gallant Captain, show some pity

To a ladye in distresse;

Leave me not within this city,

For to dye in heavinesse :

Thou hast this present day my body free,
But my heart in prison still remains with thee."

"How shouldst thou, fair lady, love me,
Whom thou knowest thy country's foe?
Thy fair wordes make me suspect thee:
Serpents lie where flowers grow."

"All the harme I wish to thee, most courteous knight,
God grant the same upon my head may fully light.

"Blessed be the time and season

That you came to Spanish ground;
If our foes you may be termed,

Gentle foes we have you found:

With our city, you have won our hearts eche one,
Then to your country bear away that is your owne."

"Rest you still, most gallant lady;
Rest you still, and weep no more;
Of fair lovers there is plenty,

Spain doth yield a plenteous store."
Spaniards fraught with jealousy we often find,
But Englishmen through all the world are counted kind.

"Leave me not unto a Spaniard,
You alone enjoy my heart;

I am lovely, young, and tender,

Love is likewise my desert:

Still to serve thee day and night my mind is prest,
The wife of every Englishman is counted blest,"

"It wold be a shame, fair lady, For to bear a woman hence, English soldiers never carry

Any such without offence."

"I'll quickly change myself, if it be so,

And like a page I'll follow thee, where'er thou go."

"I have neither gold nor silver
To maintain thee in this case;

And to travel is great charges,

As you know, in every place."

"My chains and jewels every one shall be thy own,

And eke five hundred pounds in gold that lies unknown."

“On the seas are many dangers,

Many storms do there arise;

Which will be to ladies dreadful,

And force tears from watery eyes."

Well, in troth, I shall endure extremity,

For I could find in heart to lose my life for thee."