One of the earliest notices of these unfortunates is in a collection of Old Black letter ballads, in the British Museum, where there is one entitled, ‘The Trappan’d Maiden, or the Distressed Damsel,’ (c. 22, e. 2)/186 in which are depicted some of the sorrows which were undergone by these unwilling emigrants, at that time. The date, as nearly as can be assigned to it, is about 1670. The Girl was cunningly trapan’d, Sent to Virginny from England; Where she doth Hardship undergo, There is no cure, it must be so; But if she lives to cross the main, She vows she’ll ne’er go there again. Give ear unto a Maid That lately was betray’d, And sent into Virginny, O: In brief I shall declare, What I have suffered there, When that I was weary, O. When that first I came To this Land of Fame, Which is called Virginny, O: The Axe and the Hoe Have wrought my overthrow, When that I was weary, O. Five years served I Under Master Guy, In the land of Virginny, O: Which made me for to know Sorrow, Grief, and Woe, When that I was weary, O. When my Dame says, Go, Then must I do so, In the land of Virginny, O: When she sits at meat Then I have none to eat, When that I was weary, O. The cloathes that I brought in, They are worn very thin, In the land of Virginny, O: Which makes me for to say Alas! and well-a-day, When that I was weary, O. Instead of Beds of Ease, To lye down when I please, In the land of Virginny, O: Upon a bed of straw, I lay down full of woe, When that I was weary, O. Then the Spider, she Daily waits on me, In the land of Virginny, O: Round about my bed She spins her tender web, When that I was weary, O. So soon as it is day, To work I must away, In the land of Virginny, O: Then my Dame she knocks With her tinder-box, When that I was weary, O. I have played my part Both at Plow and Cart, In the land of Virginny, O; Billats from the Wood, Upon my back they load, When that I was weary, O. Instead of drinking Beer, I drink the waters clear, In the land of Virginny, O; Which makes me pale and wan, Do all that e’er I can, When that I was weary, O. If my Dame says, Go, I dare not say no, In the land of Virginny, O; The water from the spring Upon my head I bring, When that I was weary, O. When the Mill doth stand, I’m ready at command, In the land of Virginny, O; The Morter for to make, Which made my heart to ake, When that I was weary, O.