<![CDATA[Execution Ballads]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=55&advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1570&output=rss2 Fri, 29 Mar 2024 05:07:31 +1100 una.mcilvenna@unimelb.edu.au (Execution Ballads) Zend_Feed http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss <![CDATA[Ein ander Marter-Lied, von vier Personen zu Mastricht An. 1570 getödt.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1290

Title

Ein ander Marter-Lied, von vier Personen zu Mastricht An. 1570 getödt.

Subtitle

Im Thon, Entlaubet ist der Walde. Oder, All die ihr jetzund.

Synopsis

Neeltgen, an Anabaptist martyr, a woman of 75 years, was burned at the stake on 24 January 1570 at Maastricht, Dutch province of Limburg, together with her daughter Trijntgen. They had been arrested on 24 November 1569, and were severely tortured. Neeltgen and Trijntgen belonged to the small Mennonite congregation of Maastricht, of which Arent van Essen and his wife Ursel (Ursula) had suffered martyrdom on 10 January 1570. When Ursel was led to the execution place, Neeltgen had loudly called from the window of the prison, so that all the people gathered to observe the execution could hear: "Dear sister, contend manfully, for the crown of life is prepared for you." Neeltgen herself also died steadfast (Zijpp 1957).

Digital Object

Image notice

Full size images of all song sheets available at the bottom of this page.

Image / Audio Credit

Pamphlet images in the public domain, sourced from hymnany.org - 28. Nun hoert ihr freund ehrsamen

Set to tune of...

Entlaubet ist der Walde.
or
All die ihr jetzund.

Transcription

1.
Nun hört ihr Freund ehrsamen,
Wie daß das Häufflein klein
Bezeuget Gottes Namen,
Die rechte Wahrheit rein,
Es steht also geschrieben
In Gott’s Wort überall,
All die Gottselig leben,
Man ihn verfolgen soll.

2.
Ein jeder mag zuhören,
Der offene Ohren hat,
Wie vier Freund auserkohren
Zu Mastricht in der Stadt
Bezeugt mit ihrem Blute
Ihren Glauben so fein,
Fromm waren sie von Muthe,
Deß werd ihr hören schein.

3.
Als man, wie ich besinn mich,
Schrieb neun und sechtzig Jahr,
Novembris vier und zwantzig,
Um die zwölff Uhren klar,
Des Nachts ist umgegangen
Der Burgermeister stoltz,
Und wütende gefangen
Ein Bruder hieß Arnold.

4.
Den thät er mit sich leyten
Aufs Rathhaus in der Nacht,
Gleich ein Stund thät er beten,
Da ging er fort mit Macht
Um zwey Fraülein zu holen,
Die er erstmahls ließ frey
Fing darnach drey zu malen,
Da war einkommen bey.

5.
Biß Morgens sie da waren
Alle zusammen froh,
Sie fürchten kein Beschären
Trösten einander so,
All mit dem Wort des Herren;
Darauf sie hatten baut,
Gottes Lob zu vermehren
Stund ihr Begier betraut.

6.
Vor den Herren gemeine
Jede den Glaub bekandt,
Die rechte Wahrheit reine,
Und sprachen mit Verstand,
Wie viel ihm war gegeben
Nach Gottes G’lubde gut,
Durch seinen Geist erheben,
Darnach man sprechen thut.

7.
Schnell ohne langs beyten
Anseht ihr böß Vorspiel,
Sie thäten Urseln leyten
Aufs Dinghaus mit Unwill
Darum daß sie nicht wolte
Verwilligen das Böß,
Dräuten sie ihr ohn Schulde
Die Pein und Marter groß

8.
Sanfftmüthiglich von Sinnen
Thät sies ertragen all,
Das ewig Gut zu g’winnen
Begehrt sie in dem Fall.
Ihr Mann Arnd deßgleichen
Geführt wird auf die Pfort,
Daß man ihn thät abweichen,
Braucht man viel Schmeichel Wort.

9.
Sein Frau war alt von Jahren
Wohl fünff und siebentzig.
Darzu in dem Beschwären
Noch frisch und lebendig,
In ihrem Glauben kräftig,
Der in ihr hat gewerckt,
Lob sey dir Gott Allmächtig,
Daß du sie so gestärckt.

10.
Leiden sah man sie beyde,
Sie und ihr liebes Kind,
Gar freulich zu bereitet
Tratens dahin geschwind.
Da hat Ermgen gesungen
Gehend über die Straß,
Durch Freud darzu gedrungen,
Die sie bewieß mit Maß.

11.
Nach dem Dinghaus sie mußten
Beyde zusammen gahn.
Ihrn Glaube zu verwüsten
Hielten die Herren an,
Mit Mönchen und mit Pfaffen,
Auch Hochgelehrten staht,
Gott hat behüt sein Schafe,
Wohl für den Wölfen fred.

12.
Erstmahls sie da begunnen
Mit Arndt dem lieben Mann,
Der noch hat überwunden,
Dennoch sagt man davon,
Daß er gepeinigt worden
Sechs oder sieben mal.
Um sein Seel zu ermordten
Thät man solchs principal.

13.
Ursel seine Hausfraue,
Mußt zweymal auf die Banck,
In der Pein doch getreue
Blieb sie ihr Lebenlang,
Diß g’schach in zweyen Tagen,
Merck wohl auf diß Geschicht
Es wär schwerlich zu tragen,
Der Herr machts aber leicht.

14.
Lob sey dem Herren geben
Davon zu aller Zeit,
Es ist doch nicht geblieben
Bey dieser Pein und Speit,
Dann in kurtzem Termiene
Hat sie noch eins geschmeckt,
Von diesem sauren Weine,
Den süssen, Gott ihr reckt.

15.
Knüpffen sah man ihr Hände
Zusammen binden fest,
Dahinten an dem Ende
Der Hencher hielt das letzt,
Und hat sie von danieden,
Der Erden aufgelößt,
Ihr das Hembd aufgeschnitten,
Und ihren Rück entblößt

16.
Und geisselt sie unmäßig,
Ist das nit grosse Klag?
Mit Ruthen überflüßig,
Zweymal auf einen Tag.
Man sagt von diesem Speite,
Der diesen Rath so gab,
Das war ein Jesuite,
Der sie wolt führen ab.

17.
Neelgen nun alt in Süchte,
Zur Pein ward hingeleyt,
Das mußt seyn ihr gerichte.
Da sie nun hört Bescheyd
Auf die Bank ist gelegen,
Ist ihn doch nichts geschiet.
Man thät frey zu ihr sagen,
Diß ist ihr erste nit.

18.
Treingen itzt liebe Tochter
Und Schwester in dem Herrn,
Wird auch durch den Versucher
Gepeint gar hart und schwer,
Da wird sie abgenommen,
Und auf ein Bett gethan,
So bald sie zu sich kommen,
Mußt sie noch eins daran.

19.
Sie ward gepeinigt schwörlich,
Voraus auf dieser Bahn
Da rieff sie offenbarlich,
O Herr wollst mir beystahn,
Und meinen Mund bewahren.
Ihr Gebet ward erhört,
Ihr Brüder zu befahren,
Tragen sie wenig Wort.

20.
Ich lob (sprach sie) den Herren,
Da sie nun war gepeint,
Ihr Mutter war nicht ferren
Verborgen, wie es scheint.
Als sie ihr Tochter hörte,
Sprach sie, Ist das mein Kind?
Ja Mutter, sie antworte,
Und küßten sich geschwind.

21.
Im siebenzigsten Jahre,
Gleich auf den neunten Tag,
Wird Urseln offenbahre,
Und Arndten da er lag,
Daß man sie solt verbrennen
Jedes an einem Stock,
Als sie das hond verstanden,
Sind sie doch nicht verschrock.

22.
Sie waren nur voll Freude
Denselben Tag und Nacht
Mit Gottes Lob all beyde
Hond sie den Tag verwacht
Hertzlich thät sie verlangen,
Biß komm der Lösungs Tag,
Zu gehn in Christi Gangen,
Wie man des Morgens sach.

23.
Kommen ist da ein Botte
Zu Urseln mit Befehl,
Derselb hat ihr das Gute-
Sprechen verbotten schnell,
Von seiner Herren wegen,
Die da waren present,
Ihr müßt keins Ruffens pflegen,
Sprach er, im gehn zum End.

24.
Kentlich und offenbahre
Sprach Ursel zu der Stund,
Vor den Herren all gare:
Mag ich aus Hertzen Grund
Nicht ein klein Liedlein singen,
Reden von Gottes Wort?
Und da sies wolt vollbringen,
Haben sies dran verstört.

25.
Und sprachen, Wir nun rouchen,
Was sie hat in dem Sinn:
Drum Hencker wollst gebrauchen
Dein Instrument an ihn’n,
Wie dir danns ist befohlen.
Da stopfft er ihn’n den Mund
Mit eim Holtz unverholen,
Ein Tuch er drüber bund.

26.
Als man sie nun solt leiten
Vom Dinghaus, ‘s Wolck zulieff,
Treingen mußt droben beyten,
Durchs Fenster aber rieff
Vom Dinghaus das ist kennlich,
Und hat zur Urseln geschreyt,
Lieb Schwester streit doch männlich,
Die Kron ist dir bereit.

27.
Da ist Ursel gekommen
Nach dem Freythoff gegahn,
Die Sprach war ihr benommen,
Des Weynet mancher Mann
Thäten darüber klagen.
Ursel stieg auf mit Sputh,
Ins Häußlein ohn Verzagen,
Wie Schlacht-Schäflein gut.

28.
Den Mund sie ihr verbunden,
Wie der Frauen geschach.
Kein Böß sie an ihr funden,
Deßgleichen man nich sach,
Dieb, Mörder läßt man sprechen
Was ihnen nöthig ist
Aber den Gottes Knechten
Wehrt mans zu aller Frist.

29.
O Gott da mußt geschehen
Das Brandopffer bequem,
Welchs nach Pauli gebieten
Vor Gott ist angenehm.
In denselbigen Tagen
Ward ihr Mann auch verbrendt,
Sah fröhlich ohn Verzagen,
In seinem letzten End.

30.
Auf den Plan stieg er fröhlich,
Da er sein G’bet erst thät,
Als das geschehen endlich,
Stund er auf von der Statt,
Und ging zum Häußlein innen,
Sein Kleider abgelegt,
Der Stadtvogt Böß von Sinnen
Zum Hencker hat gesagt,

31.
Fahr fort mit deim Betreiben,
Da ward das Feur gestocht,
Wie Moses thut beschreiben,
Das Opffer wird gekocht.
Zum Rauchwerck unsers Herren
Ward er verordnet fein,
Die Kron der ewigen Ehren
Wird nun sein eigen fein.

32.
Ein fröhlich Botschaft werthe
Kriegten die andern zwo
Eringen die sehr begehrte,
Deß war auch Triengen froh,
Daß sie auch musten sterben,
Und gehn denselben Gang,
Um die Kron zu erwerben,
Ward ihn’n die Zeit zu lang.

33.
Ruh suchten sie dort oben,
Bey ihrem Vater fein,
Der sie nun ließ beproben,
Als liebe Kindern sein,
Nicht über ihr Vermögen,
Welchs ist erschienen klar,
Er thät ihn’n Hülff zufügen,
In ihrem Leiden schwar.

34.
Wunderlich sie verbleyten,
Waren froh all die Nacht,
All Trübsal stund zue Seiten
Haben den Tag verwacht.
Da hat maus auch thun binden,
Mit Holtz den Mund verstopft,
Und diese zwo Gefründen
Auch mit eim Tuch verknüpft.

35.
Nach dem Freythoff sie gingen
Mit einem guten Muth,
Da man sie solt umbringen,
Treingen arbeit mit Sputh
Fleißig mit ihren Händen
An dem das knüpffet war
Daß sie auflößt die Bänden,
Und redet offenbahr.

36.
Und weil sie nun dermassen,
So sprechen solt und rieff,
Wolt mans ihr nicht zulassen,
Darum der Hencker lieff,
Daß er ihr solchs verletzet,
Sein Hand auf ihren Mund
Mit allem Fleiß er setzet,
Wieß sie ins Häußlein rund

37.
Nun sind sie abgescheyden
In Frieden alle gar.
Ein wenig sie nur beyten,
Wohl unter dem Altar.
Sie werden nun mit zarten
Kleideren seyn bekleidt,
Und noch ein wenig warten.
Die Kron ist ihnen bereit.

38.
Liebe treibt uns ihr Herren,
Das nehmt uns nicht vor Quat,
Wie wir euch heut erklären
Diese schändliche That,
Ein recht Gricht solt ihr halten
Das lehret euch Gottes Wort,
Welches ihr nicht solt verhalten
Dem der es gerne hört.

39.
O weh dem Potentaten!
O weh der grossen Rott!
Weh denen die da rathen
Zu dieser Missethat,
Und sich doch Christen rühmen,
O weh der grossen Schand!
Euch soll nicht Wunder nehmen,
Warum Straff kommt ins Land.

40.
Werd ihr die Ding nicht büssen,
So werd ihr allesamt
In kurtzem sterben müssen,
Das merck O Niederland!
Ihr Fürsten und ihr Herren.
Reich, Arm, Frau oder Mann,
Was ihr nicht habet gerne,
Solt ihr keim andern thun.
AMEN.

Crime(s)

heresy

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Maastricht, the Netherlands

Printing Location

Ausbund, das ist Etliche Schöne Christliche Lieder wie sie in dem Gefängnüss zu Bassau in dem Schloß von den Schweitzer-Brüdern, und von anderen rechtgläubigen Christen hin und her gedichtet worden...

Notes

Zijpp, Nanne van der. (1957). Neeltgen (d. 1570). Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia Online.
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]]>
Mon, 09 Mar 2020 14:48:51 +1100
<![CDATA[Ein hibsch new Lied von einer Fischerin, wie sy hat gestiftet vier mord. Im thon, als man singt vom H_ller, oder in des Lindenschmids thon.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1044

Title

Ein hibsch new Lied von einer Fischerin, wie sy hat gestiftet vier mord. Im thon, als man singt vom H_ller, oder in des Lindenschmids thon.

Set to tune of...

kommt her zu mir spricht gottes sohn / Lindenschmidt or H_ller

Date

Printing Location

Augspurg, Christoff Gastel
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 14:57:57 +1000
<![CDATA[The pope in his fury doth answer returne,]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/921

Title

The pope in his fury doth answer returne,

Subtitle

To a letter ye which to Rome is late come,

Synopsis

A reply to 'A letter to Rome...'

In this the Pope praises the steadfastness of the English Catholics John Felton, the Nortons, and Ball, and declares that he would welcome the opportunity to reward Peele and William Elderton for their missives to (ie against) him.

Set to tune of...

Transcription

The pope in his fury doth answer returne,
To a letter ye which to Rome is late come,

I Doe esteme your kyndnes much
For sendyng worde so sone,
Your diligence it hath ben such
It is ariued at Rome:
But when I had pervsd your byl
In that you set thereto your wyl
And eke your mynd applyed vntyl
The writyng of the same.
I did beleue it to be true
But surely I must say to you
It greued mee those lines to vew
Were wrtten in your name.

[leaf motif]And sure it is no maruell loe
For daylye I doe heare,
The matter semeth to be so
As amply doth appeare:
For euery man doth tell for true
The same that late was sent of you
But out alas, your tidynges new
Doth much appall my spirite.
And makes me sweare and makes me teare
To pull and hale, and rend my heare
And brynges me dayly in dispaire
To thinke on this despite.

Œ_But sith there is no remedye
That mine obedient chylde,
Is hanged vp vpon a tree
And to to much reuylde:
What shoulde I doe but curse and ban
And hurte them toe the worst I can
For hanging vp so good a man
That bare mee such good wyll?
But yf I had him here at Rome
His body should be shryned soone
And masse at mornyng and at noone
With chantyng of each bell.

Œ_For euer shoulde be sayd and soung
The deuyls to controvle,
And prayers all aboute his tombe
With senceyng for his soule:
That neuer a deuyll so deepe in hell
Shoulde once presume with him to mell
Nor once approch his body tyll
To vexe him any way.
And I wolde kepe his body so
That it from hence should neuer go
And dyuers of my fryers mo
For him should dayly pray.

Œ_And gladly wolde I be reuengd
On England yf I might,
Because they haue toe much a abusd
My Bull with great despight:
And make thereat a laughing game
And set but little by my name
And much my holynes defame
And dayly me dispyse.
Their Queene hath chast the rebels all
That loued to bow their knees to Ball
And hanged their quarters on the wall
As meat for crowes and pyes.

Œ_But I wyll walke and dayly seke
My Purgatorie thorow,
And cause all the deuyls at my becke
To me their knees to bow:
And where as I may any fynde
That to their Prince haue ben vnkynde
Be sure, with mee they shall be shrynde
As they deserued haue.
And cheefly now Iohn Felton hee
Shall euer be beloued of mee
Because that he so louinglye
My Bull did seeme to saue.

Œ_But yf that I coulde haue at once
The paryng of his toe,
His head, his quarters, or his bones
That with the wynde doe bloe:
Then shoulde they be layd vp by mee
As reliques of great dignitie
For euery man that comes to see
Those Iewels of such grace.
The Nortons bones should so be shrynd
That now hanges wauering in the wynd
Yf that I coulde deuyse or fynd
To bryug them to this place.

Œ_And I wyll curse and ban them all
That speake against my powre,
And seekes to make my kyngdome fall
My curse shall them deuowre:
And yf that here I might you see
For wrytyng lately vnto mee
Be sure, ye should rewarded bee
As best I coulde bethynke.
And as for Wylliam Elderton
That lately sent me worde to Rome
Be sure that he should haue lyke dome
To bye him pen and ynke.

Œ_Take this as written from our grace
That vnto you we send,
Because we want both time and place
To recompence you frend:
As for the boyes that trump and scoff
And at my holynes doe laugh
I mynd to dresse them wel enough
Yf case I had them here.
And for my seruants that abyde
And long haue had their pacience tryde
From Romaine faith that wyl not slyde
I wysh them all good there.

S. P.

Œ_FINIS.

Composer of Ballad

S. P. (Steven Peele)

Date

Printing Location

London, by Alexander Lacie for Henrie Kyrkham, dwellyng at the signe of the blacke Boy: at the middle North dore of Paules church.

Tune Data

Livingston assumes it is Row Well Ye Mariners, but rhyme scheme is wrong...
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:31 +1000
<![CDATA[The end and Confession of Iohn Felton]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/905

Title

The end and Confession of Iohn Felton

Subtitle

who suffred in Paules Churcheyeard in London, the . viii. of August, for high Treason. I570.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Britwell, no. 43/ HEH18304; EBBA 32268

Transcription

The end and Confession of John Felton who suffred in Paules Churcheyeard in London, the .viii. of August, for high Treason. 1570.

EChe man desiers to haue reporte,
of newes both strange and rare:
And couits for to know those thinges,
whereby they may be ware.
For to avoyde those doynges greate,
that might on them befall:
For by example are they taught to do,
and what they shall
Receiue for their malicious mindes,
and wicked Treasons greate:
As now of late it hath been seen
through Iustice iudgements seate.
That holdes the sworde to do the right,
and strike where blowes should fall:
And punish for their wicked liues,
eche one whom she doth call.
The poore, the ritche, the learnd, ye wise
the begger and the snudge:
The Kynge somtime too hath it felt,
aswell as hath the drudge.
Wherefore be lawes decreed and made
but for to punish those,
That will not by theyr Prince be rewld
but seemes to be theyr foes.
As now is seene by Felton lo,
that lately here did die,
In Paules Churchyarde he left his life,
on Galows taule and hie.
Who from the prison where he lay,
was drawne on Hardell there:
For good example of all such,
that they might take the feare.
For to beware of suche like facte,
as well in worde as deede:
Least they for theyr like hier at last
no better like to speede.
* Now marke his ende and what I shall
reporte here of his death:
For why these eares of mine did here,
and iyes while that his breath
Remained in his wicked corps,
which stubbornly did die:
As one me thought somthing best raught
through Treasons crueltie.
His Gowne of Grograin he put of,
which on his backe he had:
And eke his Doublet which was made
of Sattin somwhat sad.
Into his Shirte he then was stript,
and vp the Ladder he
Did mount, for to receaue that death,
that eche man there might se.
These wordes he spake, and said alowde
my Maisters all and some:
One thinge I haue to say to you,
now that I here am come.
That is, I pray you all with me
beare recorde what I say:
I here protest before you all
, this present dieyng day,
That I was neuer Traytour sure,
nor Treason to my Queene
Did neuer do, nor neuer thought,
that euer hath been seene.
And for the facte wherefore I die,
I can it not denie:
But at the Gate where as the Bull
was hanged, there was I,
In company, on more with me,
did hange it vp together:
And though in place, I had not bin,
it had not scaped euer.
From hanging vp, for suredly,
for that same present day:
It had bin hanged, in that place,
though I had been away.
Then sayde the Shreue, vnto him,
Oh Felton do remember:
That thou hast bin, a Traytour great
and to the Queene offender.
And surely thou moste Trayterously,
and stubbornly hast thou sought,
The best thou couldst to go aboute,
thy Prince to bringe to nought.
And eke the Realme and all the rest,
as mutche as in thee lay,
Thou soughst by thy Traiterous harte,
to bringe vnto decay.
Therfore call vnto God the Lord,
and pray him from thy hart:
That he receaue thy soule to rest,
when thou from hence shalt part.
Well so I do, and here I craue,
you all good people pray
For me, that ready is to dye,
and then began to say,
Into thy hands, Oh Lord my God,
I yeeld my Soule and Breath:
For thou hast me redeemd, I say,
with thy most precious death.
In manus tuas Domine,
and so the rest he sayde,
The Hangman then did throwe him of,
and so his breath was staide.
He hanged theare vpon the Tree,
and in a litle space:
They cut him downe incontinent,
that Iustice might take place.
Wher as he quartred shoulde be,
according to the Lawe:
And to the Iudgement that he had,
to make those stande in awe.
That be of his affinitie:
and surely there be some,
That thinkes that he deserude not death
in all that he hath don.
He then dismembred was straight way,
when he had ended that:
His Belly ripped open wide,
his Bowels all he gat.
And to the fire he straight them threwe,
which ready there was made:
And there consumed all to dust,
as is the fiers trade.
His Head cut of, the Hangman then,
did take it vp in hand:
And vp alofte he did it showe,
to all that there did stand.
And then his body in Fowre partes,
was quartred in that place:
More pitty that his Traytorous Hart,
could take no better grace.
And thus he had his iust desarte,
as well he had deserued:
I would the rest that not repents,
were likewise also serued.
Beware you Papists all beware,
be true vnto your Queene:
Let not your Traiterous hartes be bent
as here tofore hath been.
Stand not against the liuing God,
spurne not against his Law:
Kicke not against the Pricke I say,
but haue him still in awe.
Be not ashamde to torne in time,
set shamefastnesse aside:
No shame it is to turne to God,
though you haue gon far wide,
The farther you haue gon astray,
and wicked wayes hath led,
The ernester you should returne,
from that most wicked Bed,
Wherin you lay a sleape long while,
forgetting of his grace:
Now call the refore vnto the Lord,
to set you in that place,
Where you may haue eternall rest,
and liue in heauen hie:
And rest in Abrahams bosome too,
when that you needes must dye.
And for that grace that God may geue,
as I haue sayde before:
I humbly pray continually,
both now and euermore.
Our Prince, our Queene Elizabeth,
a happy state to haue:
Let vs all pray with one accord,
her noble grace to saue.
And hir to keepe from all hir foes,
and sheild eternally:
From wicked wights that go about,
to s_eke continually:
Hir whole decay: the Lord defend,
hir noble royall hart:
From yeelding to those Foes of hirs,
that daily plaies their parte.
For to be reeue her of her right,
and of hir stately Crowne:
All those (I say) that so doth seke,
God shortly throw them downe.
Thus here I end, and once againe,
the liuing God I pray:
Our noble Qu_ene Elizabeth,
preserue both night and day.
({quod}) F. G.

FINIS.



Œ_ Imprinted at London, in Fleetstreete, by VVilliam Hovv: for William Pickering: and are to be solde at his shop at S. Magnus corner.

Composer of Ballad

F.G.

Method of Punishment

hanging, quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

St Paul's Churchyard, London

Printing Location

London, in Fleetstreete, by VVilliam Hovv: for William Pickering: and are to be solde at his shop at S. Magnus corner.

Notes

Wikipedia:  Blessed John Felton (died 8 August 1570) was an English Catholic martyr, who was executed during the reign of Elizabeth I.

Almost all of what is known about Felton's background comes from the narrative of his daughter, Frances Salisbury. The manuscript that holds her story has a blank where his age should be, but it does say that he was a wealthy man of Norfolk ancestry, who lived at Bermondsey Abbey near Southwark. He "was a man of stature little and of complexion black". His wife had been a playmate of Elizabeth I, a maid-of-honour to Queen Mary and the widow of one of Mary's auditors (a legal official of the papal court). He was the father of Blessed Thomas Felton. Felton was arrested for fixing a copy of Pope Pius V's Bull Regnans in Excelsis ("reigning on high"), excommunicating Queen Elizabeth, to the gates of the Bishop of London's palace near St. Paul's. This was a significant act of treason as the document, which released Elizabeth's subjects from their allegiance, needed to be promulgated in England before it could take legal effect. The deed brought about the end of the previous policy of tolerance towards those Catholics who were content occasionally to attend their parish church while keeping their true beliefs to themselves.

The reaction seemed soon to be justified: it was the publication in England of Pius's exhortation that gave the impetus to the Ridolfi plot, in which the Duke of Norfolk was to kidnap or murder Queen Elizabeth, install Mary, Queen of Scots, on the throne and then become de facto king by marrying her. The law records say that the act was committed around eleven at night on 24 May 1570, but Salisbury claims it happened between two and three in the morning of the following day, the Feast of Corpus Christi. Felton had received the bulls in Calais and given one to a friend, William Mellowes of Lincoln's Inn. This copy was discovered on 25 May and after being racked, Mellowes implicated Felton, who was arrested on 26 May. Felton immediately confessed and glorified in his deed, "treasonably declar[ing] that the queen... ought not to be the queen of England", but he was still racked as the authorities were seeking, through his testimony, to implicate Guerau de Spes, the Ambassador of Spain, in the action. He was condemned on 4 August and executed by hanging four days later in St. Paul's Churchyard, London. He was cut down alive for quartering, and his daughter says that he uttered the holy name of Jesus once or twice when the hangman had his heart in his hand. He was beatified in 1886 by Pope Leo XIII.
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:29 +1000
<![CDATA[Certayne versis writtene by Thomas Brooke Gentleman]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/873

Title

Certayne versis writtene by Thomas Brooke Gentleman

Subtitle

in the tyme of his imprysonment the daye before his deathe who sufferyd at Norwich the .30.of August. 1570.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Bodleian Library, University of Oxford, Shelfmark: Arch. A c.7; Bodleian Ballads Online Bod3372

Transcription

Certayne versis / writtene by Thomas Brooke Ge~tleman / in the tyme of his impryso~ment / the daye before his deathe / who sufferyd at Norwich / the. 30. of August. 1570.

I Languishe / as I lye /
And death doth make me thrall /
To cares which death shall sone cut of /
And sett me quyt / of all.

yett feble fleshe would faynt /
To feale so sharpe a fyght /
Saue Fayth in Christ / doth comfort me /
And sleithe such fancy quyght.

For fyndyng forth howe frayle /
Eache wordly state doth stande /
I hould him blyst / that fearyng God /
Is redd of such a band.

For he that longest lyues /
And Nestors yeares doth gayne /
Hath so much more accompte to make /
And fyndyth Lyfe but vayne.

What cawse ys then to quayle /
I am called before /
To tast the Ioyes which Christis bloode /
Hath bowght and layde in store.

No no / no greter Ioye /
Can eny hart posses /
Then throwgh the death to gayne a lyfe /
Wyth hym in blyssednes.

Who sende the Quene long lyfe /
Much Ioye and contries peace /
Her Cowncell health / hyr fryndes good lucke /
To all ther Ioyes increase.

Thus puttyng vppe my greaues /
I grownde my lyfe on God /
And thanke hym with most humble hart /
And mekelye kysse his rodde.

Finis /


{quod} Thomas Brooke.

Seane / and allowyd / accordynge to the Quenes Maiestyes Iniunction.

God saue the Quene

Imprynted at Norwich in the Paryshe of Saynct Andrewe / by Anthony de Solempne. 1570.

Composer of Ballad

Thomas Brooke [?]

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Norwich, Norfolk

Printing Location

Norwich in the Paryshe of Saynct Andrews by Anthony de Solempne

Notes

From the Holinshed Project, 1587, vol. 6, p. 1221: The seauen and twentith of Male, Thomas Nor|ton and Christopher Norton of Yorkshire,The Nor|tons execu|ted. being both condemned of high treason for the late rebellion in the north, were drawen from the tower of London to Tiborne, and there hanged, headed, and quartered. In this yeare also conspired certeine gentlemen with other in the countie of Norffolke,Conspiracie in Norffolke and where|vpon it tooke beginning. whose purpose was on Midsummer daie at Harlestone faire, with sound of trumpet and drum to haue rais [...]d a num|ber, and then to proclame their diuelish pretense a|gainst strangers and others. This matter was vtte|red by Thomas Ket one of the conspiracie vnto Iohn Kenseie, who foorthwith sent the same Ket with a conestable to the next iustice, before whome and o|ther iustices he opened the whole matter. Wherevp|on maister Drue Drurie immediatlie apprehen|ded Iohn Throckmorton, and after him manie gen|tlemen of the citie of Norwich, and the countie of Norffolke, who were all committed to prison, and at the next sessions of goale deliuerie at the castell of Norwich, the seauentéenth of Iulie before sir Robert Catlin knight lord chéefe iustice, Gilbert Gerard the quéenes attornie generall, and other iustices, ten of them were indicted of high treason, and some others of contempt. Diuerse of them were condemned, and had iudgement the one and twentith of August: and afterward thrée of them were hanged, bowelled, and quartered, which were Iohn Throckmorton of Nor|wich gentleman, who stood mute at his arreignment, but at the gallows confessed himselfe to be the chéefe conspirator, and that none had deserued to die but he, for that he had procured them. With him was execu|ted Thomas Brooke of Rolsbie gentleman on the thirtith of August; and George Dedman of Cringle|ford gentleman was likewise executed the second of September.
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:24 +1000
<![CDATA[A Mirror of mans lyfe made by a modest virgine Fransisca Chauesia a Nonne of the cloyster of S. Elizabeth in Spaine burned for the profession of the gospell.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/850

Title

A Mirror of mans lyfe made by a modest virgine Fransisca Chauesia a Nonne of the cloyster of S. Elizabeth in Spaine burned for the profession of the gospell.

Subtitle

[with separate but related verse following]

Synopsis

Axon reports that Francesca de Chaves was a nun of the order of St. Francis of Assisi who belonged to the convent of Santa Isabel in Seville, whereas the title of the broadsheet declares her to be of the cloister of St. Elizabeth. With twelve other victims, she was burned by the Inquisition on 22 Dec 1560, at the auto-da-fe in Seville.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Chetam's Library - Halliwell-Phillipps, Shelfmark: H.P.469; EBBA 36173

Transcription

THe onely God of Israell,
Be praysed evermore:
For that to gloryfie his name,
his sayntes he kepes in store.
And to declare his wonderous workes,
which past the witte of man:
How his most pure and sacred worde.
unto this virgine came.
Who closed was a cloyster Nonne,
and drownd in fylthy sinke:
By taking of the Romish cuppe,
and tasting of her drinke.
Through which both soule & body tread,
the beaten pathes to hell:
Be rent and torne in fylthy lake,
with Deviles ferce and fell.
But God in Christ our Saviour,
this Mayden toke to grace:
Who banisht quite all romish ragges,
and gods word dyd imbrace.
As in this mirrour you may see,
made by this martir bright:
Which is a lanterne to our steppes,
of pure and perfite light.
And to confirme the truth therof,
dyd seale it with her death:
With stedfast fayth in fiery flame,
dyd end her vitall breath.
O virgine pure thou art right sure,
with Christ to rayne, & grace obtaine:
Wherfore to pray, let us not staye,
our sinnes t'unfold, to God be bold.
Einis. quod. T.W.
This godly crosserowe, to christians I send with hartie desire there lives to amend.
A.
ALl faythfull hartes that feareth God,
drawe neare behold and see:
What fiery torments I abode,
for Christes most veritie,
For true it is the wicked hate.
the godly and their wayes:
with cruell deathes they bragge and prate,
whose spite right sone decayes.

B.
Beare not yourselves ye Papistes bold
In frutelesse hope to trust:
Thinking to mend whan ye ware olde,
that sinne is nert the worst.
Be rather wise and circumspecte,
repent while ye have space:
For those that be of God rejecte,
remayne in dolefull place.

C.
Consider well and call to mind,
what counsell Christ doth geve:
Unto all such as sekes to fynde,
how by his word to lyve.
Commaunding us ech one, to love,
and in him fire our fayth:
Who spent his bloud for our behoulfe,
as holy Scripture sayth.

D.
Disdayne not for to helpe the poore,
ye rich that may do so:
Who calles on you both day and night,
be wrapt in payne and woe.
For who so doth the poore despise,
and from their ayd refrayne:
From such the Lord wyll turne his eyes,
In their most nede and payne.

E.
Employe yourselves to eche intent,
that gods word doth amitte:
Obey your Prince whom he hath sent,
In Judgement seate to sitte.
Envye not ye the lowest sorte,
Nor strive not with the bande:
So shall ye winne a good reporte,
where that ye dwell on lande.

F.
Feare not those furious faythlesse sorte,
that dayly lye in wayte:
To shed your bloud they have a sporte,
and make your flesh their bayte.
For he, whose fayth you do profes,
hath promised you in dede:
For to destroye there cruelnes,
and be your helpe at nede

G.
Gape not gredely goods to gette,
the rich mans goods doth rest:
Remember flesh to be wormes meate,
from it departe we must.
Then lyve we heare whyles we abyde,
to profite our soules health:
For death he tarieth not the tyde,
but crepts on us by stealth.

H.
Hotnes of harte se that yee hate,
all ye that do love truth:
Which doth but move stryfe and debate,
eche where in age and youth.
Be poore in spirite, and meke withall,
In harte loke not aloft:
Who climmeth hyghe most lowe doth fall,
such sightes are sene full oft.

I.
Incline your eares to heare their cause,
that are with wronge opprest:

Ye ministers of Christian lawes,
to you I make request.
Let not the poore man be debarde,
to serve the riche mans turne:
If ye so do your just reward,
shall be in hell to burne.

K.
Kepe clene yourselves from fleshly deds
uncleanes put awaye:
For harlots breathes are stinking wedes
appeare they never so gaye.
Most poyson dartes they are iwysse,
that falles with such a breath:
Loke where they light they seldom misse
but strikes unto the death.

L.
Let godly love in you remaine,
and first and principall:
Above all thinges love God certayne,
your neighbour next of all.
If you so lyve without all stryfe,
then are you of that sorte:
Of whom S. John hath written ryfe,
and made a just reporte.

M
Measure by truth your graine & corne
all ye that selles the same:
Be not at any tyme forsworne,
In earnest or in game.
Nor covet for to sell more dere,
but as you may aforth:
Small tyme we have to tary here,
this lyfe is lytle worth.

N.
Note well the substance of this bill,
and what is herein pend:
Then shall ye not delite in yll,
nor yet therto attend.
Condemne it not though it be rude,
all doth not write lyke fyne:
With counsell good it is indued,
to it therfore incline.

O.
Offer to God the sacrifice,
that his word doth allowe:
Obey the powers in humble wise,
unto them see you bowe.
Who strives with them resisteth God,
as Scripture doth expresse:
They are the very skourge and rodde,
for such as do transgresse,

P.
Pitie the poore that faine would lyve
with labour of their handes:
With wrong do not your tenants greve,
you that be men of landes.
As Christian brethern ought to bee,
In fayth so to professe:
Leave of therfore your crueltie,
and practise gentlenes.

Q.
Quietly deale, quarell not yee,
that loves to lyve in rest:
This is most true to eche degree,
a quiet lyfe is best.
For quarells doth ingenger stryfe,
by stryfe oft tymes doth growe:
Such happe that some doth lose their life
they reape as they doe sowe,

R.
Ryote refrayne let reason guide
for ryote bringeth wracke:
For reason doe thou sure provide
before the time of lack.

And if in wealth you happe to flowe,
spend not away to fast,
Lest you come home by ragmans rowe,
with nifles at the last.

S.
Slaunder no weight therof beware,
evill tonges they are so vile,
That ofte they wrappe themselves in snare,
wherat their foe doth smile,
Commit your cause to god therfore,
vengeance saith he is myne.
His merry is also in store,
to those that trust in time.

T.
Trust not the trifeling talkers tale,
till truth the same have tried:
Such bringeth men oft times in bale,
this cannot be denied.
Nedes must he lye that bableth much,
note this for your discharge:
Avoyd therfore from you all such,
whose tongues doth runne at large.

V.
Vyle wanton wayes se you none use
at no tyme day nor night:
Thy fayth Christ may ne will refuse,
to speake the hartes delight.
The godly man from his good thought,
of godlines doth talke:
The wicked man in fancye nought,
his tongue doth ever walke.

X.
Christe graunt us all that do professe,
his faythfull flocke to be:
That our good works may show no lesse
but with our fayth agree.
Dead is that fayth as James doth say,
where good dedes wanteth place:
That we may dwell in Christ alwaye,
he graunt us of his grace.

Y.
Yeld laude and prayse to god above,
whose most high majestie
Sent downe his sonne for our behouf:
our saviour for to be.
Whose death hath done our sinnes away
as scripture doth record.
Let us therfore both night and daye,
geve thankes unto the Lord.

Z.
Zeale to the truth hath moved me,
this dittie to set forth:
Most humbly praying ech degree,
to take it in good worth.
None other thing is ment therby,
to witnes God I take:
But that we should lyve Christianly,
and Sathans wayes forsake.

&.
& for the same accomplishment,
with meekenes let us pray:
To God the Lord omnipotent,
that he with us alway.
Vouchsafe his holy spirite to dwel,
to guide our hartes aright:
That we may walke in his gospell,
as Children of his light.

Composer of Ballad

T. VV.

Method of Punishment

burning

Crime(s)

heresy

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Seville

Printing Location

London, Fletestrete at the signe of the Faucon by Wylliam Griffith.
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:21 +1000
<![CDATA[A letter to Rome, to declare to ye Pope, Iohn Felton his freend is hangd in a rope:]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/848

Title

A letter to Rome, to declare to ye Pope, Iohn Felton his freend is hangd in a rope:

Subtitle

And farther, a right his grace to enforme, He dyed a Papist, and seemd not to turne.

Synopsis

The singer gleefully transmits the news of John Felton's execution to the Pope, sarcastically asking him to gather up the parts of his body now strewn around London, and to rescue his soul from Purgatory. For more on Felton's life, see notes below the ballad.

Digital Object


Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Britwell, Shelfmark: HEH18325; EBBA 32412. Audio recording by Jenni Hyde.

Set to tune of...

Transcription

A letter to Rome, to declare to ye Pope,
Iohn Felton his freend is hangd in a rope:
And farther, a right his grace to enforme,
He dyed a Papist, and seemd not to turne.

To the tune of Row well ye Mariners.

WHo keepes Saint Angell gates?
Where lieth our holy father say?
I muze that no man waytes,
Nor comes to meete me on the way.
Sir Pope I say? yf you be nere,
Bow downe to me your listning eare:
Come forth, besturre you then a pace,
Fo I haue newes to show your grace.
Stay not, come on,
That I from hence were shortly gon:
Harke well, heare mee,
What tidings I haue brought to thee

The Bull so lately sent
To England by your holy grace,
Iohn Felton may repent
For settyng vp the same in place:
For he vpon a goodly zeale
He bare vnto your common weale
Hath ventured lyfe to pleasure you,
And now is hangd, I tell you true.
Wherfore, sir Pope,
In England haue you lost your hope.
Curse on, spare not,
Your knights are lyke to go to pot.

But further to declare,
He dyed your obedient chylde:
And neuer seemd to spare,
For to exalt your doctrine wylde:
And tolde the people euery one
He dyed your obedient sonne
And as he might, he did set forth,
Your dignitie thats nothyng worth.
Your trash, your toyes,
He toke to be his onely ioyes:
Therfore, hath wonne,
Of you the crowne of martirdome.

Let him be shryned then
Accordyng to his merits due,
As you haue others doen
That proue vnto their Prince vntrue:
For these (sir Pope) you loue of lyfe,
That wt their Princes fall at stryfe:
Defendyng of your supreame powre,
Yet som haue paid ful deare therfore.
As now, lately,
Your freend Iohn Felton seemd to try
Therfore, I pray,
That you a masse for him wyll say.

Ryng all the belles in Rome
To doe his sinful soule some good,
Let that be doen right soone
Because that he hath shed his blood,
His quarters stand not all together
But ye mai hap to ring them thether
In place where you wold haue them be
Then might you doe as pleaseth ye.
For whye? they hang,
Vnshryned each one vpon a stang:
Thus standes, the case,
On London gates they haue a place.

His head vpon a pole
Stands waueri~g in ye wherli~g wynd,
But where shoulde be his soule
To you belongeth for to fynd:
I wysh you Purgatorie looke
And search each corner wt your hooke,
Lest it might chance or you be ware
The Deuyls to catce him in a snare.
Yf ye, him see,
From Purgatorie set him free:
Let not, trudge than,
Fetch Felton out and yf ye can.

I wysh you now sir Pope
To loke vnto your faithful freendes,
That in your Bulles haue hope
To haue your pardon for their sinnes,
For here I tell you, euery Lad
Doth scoff & scorne your bulles to bad,
And thinke they shall the better fare
For hatyng of your cursed ware.
Now doe, I end,
I came to show you as a frend:
Whether blesse, or curse,
You send to me, I am not the worse.

Steuen Peele.

FINIS.

Composer of Ballad

Steuen Peele

Method of Punishment

hanging, quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

St Paul's Churchyard, London

Printing Location

London, by Alexander Lacie for Henrie Kyrkham, dwellyng at the signe of the blacke Boy: at the middle North dore of Paules church.

Tune Data

Composer of tune: C. B. Hardman

Notes

Wikipedia: Blessed John Felton (died 8 August 1570) was an English Catholic martyr, who was executed during the reign of Elizabeth I.

Almost all of what is known about Felton's background comes from the narrative of his daughter, Frances Salisbury. The manuscript that holds her story has a blank where his age should be, but it does say that he was a wealthy man of Norfolk ancestry, who lived at Bermondsey Abbey near Southwark. He "was a man of stature little and of complexion black". His wife had been a playmate of Elizabeth I, a maid-of-honour to Queen Mary and the widow of one of Mary's auditors (a legal official of the papal court). He was the father of Blessed Thomas Felton.

Felton was arrested for fixing a copy of Pope Pius V's Bull Regnans in Excelsis ("reigning on high"), excommunicating Queen Elizabeth, to the gates of the Bishop of London's palace near St. Paul's. This was a significant act of treason as the document, which released Elizabeth's subjects from their allegiance, needed to be promulgated in England before it could take legal effect. The deed brought about the end of the previous policy of tolerance towards those Catholics who were content occasionally to attend their parish church while keeping their true beliefs to themselves. The reaction seemed soon to be justified: it was the publication in England of Pius's exhortation that gave the impetus to the Ridolfi plot, in which the Duke of Norfolk was to kidnap or murder Queen Elizabeth, install Mary, Queen of Scots, on the throne and then become de facto king by marrying her.

The law records say that the act was committed around eleven at night on 24 May 1570, but Salisbury claims it happened between two and three in the morning of the following day, the Feast of Corpus Christi. Felton had received the bulls in Calais and given one to a friend, William Mellowes of Lincoln's Inn. This copy was discovered on 25 May and after being racked, Mellowes implicated Felton, who was arrested on 26 May. Felton immediately confessed and glorified in his deed, "treasonably declar[ing] that the queen... ought not to be the queen of England", but he was still racked as the authorities were seeking, through his testimony, to implicate Guerau de Spes, the Ambassador of Spain, in the action. He was condemned on 4 August and executed by hanging four days later in St. Paul's Churchyard, London. He was cut down alive for quartering, and his daughter says that he uttered the holy name of Jesus once or twice when the hangman had his heart in his hand. He was beatified in 1886 by Pope Leo XIII.
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:20 +1000
<![CDATA[A discription of Nortons falcehod Of Yorke shyre, and of his fatall farewel.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/844

Title

A discription of Nortons falcehod Of Yorke shyre, and of his fatall farewel.

Subtitle

The fatal fine of Traitours loe: By Iustice due, deseruyng soe.

Synopsis

A ballad commemorating the execution of nobles involved in the Pilgrimage of Grace, a widespread revolt against the rule of Henry VIII. The Pilgrimage of Grace started in late 1536 and finished in early 1537.

Stuffed full of animal lore like: 'The Crane wolde flye vp to the Sunne, I heard it once of olde', and seasoned with Biblical and classical allusions, what this exhortation against papistry and treason lacks is hard information. The family name of the Nortons is mentioned three times in connection with the gallows; nothing more specific appears.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

HuntingtonbLibrary - Britwell, Shelfmark: HEH18305; EBBA 32269

Transcription

A discription of Nortons falcehod of Yorke shyre, and of his fatall farewel.

Epigraph:
The fatal fine of Traitours loe:
By Iustice due, deseruyng soe.

OF late (alas) the great vntruth
Of Traitours, how it sped
Who list to know, shal here Single illegible lettere
How late allegeance fled.
If Riuers rage against the Sea.
And swell with soddeine rayne:
How glad are they to fall agayne,
And trace their wonted traine?
If fire by force wolde forge the fall
Of any sumptuouse place,
If water floods byd him leaue of,
His flames he wyll disgrace.
If God command the wyndes to cease,
His blastes are layd full low:
If God command the seas to calme,
They wyll not rage or flow.
All thinges at Gods commandeme~t be,
If he their state regarde:
And no man liues whose destinie
By him is vnpreparde.
But when a man forsakes the ship,
And rowles in wallowing waues:
And of his voluntarie wyll,
His owne good hap depraues:
How shal he hope to scape the gulfe?
How shal he thinke to deale?
How shal his fansie bring him sound
To Safties shore with sayle?
How shall his fraight in fine succede?
Alas what shall he gayne?
What feare by storms do make him quake
How ofte subiecte to payne?
How sundrie times in Dangers den
Is throwne the man vnwyse?
Who climes withouten holde on hye,
Beware, I him aduize.
All such as trust to false contracts,
Or secret harmes conspire?
Be sure, with Nortons they shal taste
A right deserued hire.
They can not looke for better sp_ede,
No death for such too fell?
God grant the iustice of the worlde
Put by the paynes of hell.
For such a pensiue case it is,
That English harts did dare
To passe the boundes of duties lawe,
Or of their cuntrie care.
And mercie hath so long releast
Offendours (God doth know)
And bountie of our curteous Quene
Too long hath spared her foe.
But God, whose grace inspires her harte,
Wyll not abyde the spight
Of Rebels rage, who rampe to reach
From her, her title quight.
Although shee flowe in pitifull zeale,
And loueth to sucke no blood:
Yet God a caueat wyll her lend
T'appease those Vipers moode.
A man that sets his house on fire,
Wyll seke to quench the flame:
Els from the spoyle some parte conuey,
Els seke the heate to tame.
Who s_e a penthouse wether beate,
And heares a boistrouse wynde:
But hedefull sasetie of himselfe,
Wyll force him succour fynde?
The pitifull pacient Pellican,
Her blood although sh_e shed:
Yet wyll she seme her date to end,
Or care her young be sped.
The Eagle flynges her yong ones downe
That sight of sunne refuse:
Vnperfect fowles she deadly hates,
And rightly such misvse.
The Crane wolde flye vp to the Sunne,
I heard it once of olde:
And with the kyng of byrdes did striue
By Fame, I heard it tolde
And do woe she wolde not fal f[...]e no,
But higher styll did mou[...]:
Til past her reach (saith olde reporte)
Shame made a backe recour
I touch no Armes herein at all
But shew a fable wyse:
Whose morall sence doth repr[1 span missing]
Of clymers hye the guyse.
Who buyldes a house of many [1 span missing],
and laith not ground work[1 span missing]
But doth ertorte the ground [1 span missing]g,
His buildyng can not dure[1 span missing]

Who sekes surmising to disp[1 span missing]
a Ruler sent by GOD:
Is subiect sure, deuoide of grace
The cause of his owne rod.
A byrde that wyll her nest defyle
By right should loose a wyng:
And then is shee no slying fowle,
But slow as other thyng.
And he that loseth all at games,
Or spendes in fowle excesse:
And hopes by haps to heale his harme,
Must drinke of deare distresse.
To speake of brydles to restrayne
This wylfull wayward crewe:
They care not for the booke of God,
To Princes, men vntrue.
To cuntrye, causers of much woe,
To faithfull fr_endes, a fall:
And to their owne estates, a styng,
To others, sharpe as gall.
O Lorde, how long these Lizerds lurkt,
Good GOD, how great a whyle
Were they in hand with feigned harts
Their cuntrye to defyle?
How did they frame their furniture?
How sit they made their tooles:
How Symon sought our englysh Troie
To bryng to Romaine scooles.
How Simon Magus playd his parte,
How Babilon bawde did rage:
How Basan bulles begon to bell,
How Iudas sought his wage.
How Iannes and Iambres did abyde
The brunt of brainesicke acts,
How Dathan, Chore, Abiram s_emd
To dash our Moyses facts.
How Romaine marchant set a fresh
His pardons braue a sale,
How alwayes some against the Truth
Wolde dreame a senceles tale.
Gods vicar from his god receaued
The keyes to lose and bynd:
Baals chaplein thoght h{is} fire wo[1 span missing]e
Such was his pagan mynd.
Good Lorde how hits the ter[...] their [1 span missing]ts
That saith such men shall be
In their religion hot nor colde
Of much varietie.
And sundry sorts of sects sur[1 span missing]
Diuision shall appeare:
Against the father, sonne sha[1 span missing]ue,
Gainst mother, daughter [1 span missing]e.
Is it not come to passe trow you?
Yea, bastards sure they be,
Who our good mother Qu_ene [1 span missing]
Withstand rebelliouslie.
Can God his vengeance long reta[1 span missing]
Where his true seruants f_ele
Iniuriouse spights of godlesse men,
Who turne as doth a whele?
No no, his suffryug long (be sure)
Wyll pay his foes at last:
His mercye moued once away,
He shall them quight out cast
With sentence iust for their vntruth,
And breakyng of his wyll:
The fruits of their sedicious s_eds,
The barnes of earth shall fyll.
Their soules God wot sore clogd wt crime
And their posteritie
Bespotted sore with their abuse,
And stand by their follie.
Their liuyngs left their name a shame,
Their deedes with poyson sped:
Their deathes a wage for want of grace
Their honours quite is dead.
Their flesh to feede the kytes and crowes
Their armes a maze for men:
Their guerdon as examples are
To dash dolte Dunces den.
Throw vp your snouts you sluggish sorte
You mumming maskyng route:
Extoll your exclamations vp,
Baals chapleines, champions stoute.
Make sute for pardons, papists braue,
For traitours indulgence:
Send out some purgatorie scraps,
Some Bulls with Peter pence.
O swarme of Drones, how dare ye styl
With labouryng B_es contend?
You sought for home from the hiues,
But gall you found in end.
These waspes do wast, their stings be out
Their spight wyll not auayle:
These Peacocks proude are naked lefte
Of their displayed tayle.
These Turkye cocks iu cullour red,
So long haue lurkt a loofe:
The Beare (although but slow of foote)
Hath pluct his wynges by proofe.
The Moone her borowed light hath lost,
Shee wayned as we see:
Who hoped by hap of others harmes,
A full Moone once to b_e.
The Lyon suffred long the Bull,
His noble mynd to trye:
Vntyll the Bull was rageyng wood,
And from his stake did hye.
Then time it was to bid him stay
Perforce, his hornes to cut:
And make him leaue his rageing tunes
In scilence to be put.
And all the calues of Basan kynd
Are weaned from their wish:
The Hircan Tigers tamed now,
Lemathon eates no fish.
Beholde before your balefull eyes
The purchace of your parte,
Suruey your sodeine sorrowful sight
With sighes of dubble harte.
Lament the lacke of your alies
Religious rebells all:
Bewepe that yll successe of yours,
Come curse your sodeine fall.
And when ye haue your guiles out sought
And all your craft approued,
Peccauimus shall be your song
Your ground worke is remoued.
And looke how Nortons sped their wills
Euen so their sect shall haue,
No better let them hope to gayne
But gallowes without graue.

{que} William Gibson.

Œ_ FINIS.

Composer of Ballad

William Gibson

Method of Punishment

hanging; drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

London by Alexander Lacie, or Henrie Kyrkeham, dwellyng at the signe of the blacke Boye, at the middle North dore of Paules church.

Notes

From The Goodricke Family Files:  Richard Norton, his sons, Christopher and Marmaduke, and his brother Thomas Norton, and about fifty others of noble extraction or of other distinction were tainted of high treason 7 Nov 1569 and their possessions forfeited. Richard Norton fled to Flanders where doubtless he rejoined the Earl of Westmorland, and died there in poverty 9 Apr 1585 (aged 91), the Patriarch of the Rebellion. His brother Thomas was hanged and quartered in the presence of his nephew Christopher at Tyburn on 27 May 1570. The fate on the sons of Richard Norton was as follows: Francis, the eldest, was a fugitive with his father; John, the second, was of Ripon, was not implicated; Edmund, the third, ancestor of the Lords Grantly, was of Clowbeck, Co. York, and died there in 1610, not implicated; William, the fourth, was tried with his uncle Thomas and brother Christopher but was pardoned; George, the fifth, was a fugitive with his father; Thomas, the sixth, died without issue, was not implicated; Christopher, the seventh, was hanged and quartered with his uncle Thomas, at Tyburn, 27 May 1570; Marmaduke, the eighth, pleaded guilty but was pardoned and died at Stranton where he was buried 4th Nov 1594. He was kept a prisoner in the Tower, however, until 1572. Sampson, the ninth, and youngest son, was a fugitive with his father and was at Mechlin in 1571, then a pensioner of the King of Spain. Richard Norton had seven daughters, all well married.
hunt_1_18305_2448x2448.jpg
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:20 +1000
<![CDATA[A ballad reioysinge the sodaine fall, of rebels that thought to deuower vs all.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/839

Title

A ballad reioysinge the sodaine fall, of rebels that thought to deuower vs all.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library, STC (2nd ed.) / 1326 Huth 50[29]. EEBO link (institutional login required).

Set to tune of...

Reioyce with me ye Christians all ...

Date

Printing Location

Imprinted at London, : In Fleetestreete, by William How, for Henry Kirkham, and are to be solde at his shop at the middle north doore of Paules Churche., [1570]
Anon-A_ballad_reioysinge_the_sodaine-STC-1326-A3_4_28_-p1.tif
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:19 +1000
<![CDATA[A ballad intituled, A newe well a daye]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/837

Title

A ballad intituled, A newe well a daye

Subtitle

as playne maister papist, as Donstable waye. Well a daye well a daye, well a daye woe is mee Syr Thomas Plomtrie is hanged on a tree.

Synopsis

The Rising of the North, 1569. Thomas Plumtree, a chaplain with the insurgents, was hanged in Durham in 1570 as a warning to those who aided the Catholics; he was beatified in 1886.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library, STC 2nd ed. / 7553, Huth 50 (4). EEBO record (institutional login required). 

Set to tune of...

Transcription

A Ballad Intituled,
a Newe well a daye /
As playne maister Papist, as Donstable waye.

Well a daye well a daye, well a daye woe is mee
Syr Thomas Plomtrie is hanged on a tree.

AMonge maye newes
As touchinge the Rebelles
their wicked estate,
Yet Syr Thomas Plomtrie,
their preacher they saie,
Hath made the North countrie, to crie well a daye.

Well a daye, well a daye, well a daye, woe is me,
Syr Thomas Plomtrie is hanged on a tree.

And now manie fathers and mothers be theare,
are put to their trialles with terrible feare,
Not all the gaye Crosses nor goddes they adore,
will make them as merie, as they haue ben before,

Well a daye, well a daye, &c.

The widowes woful, whose husbandes be taken
the childerne lament them, are so for saken,
The church men yt chaunted the morowe masse bell
Their Pardons be graunted they hang verie wel.

Well a daye well a daye. &c.

It is knowne they bee fled, that were the beginers
it is time they were ded, poore sorofull sinners
For all there great haste, they are hedged at a staye
with weeping & waylinge to sing well a daye.

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

Yet some hold opynon, all is well with the highest
they are in good saftie wher freedome is nieste
Northumberland need not, be doutefull some saye,
and Westmorlande is not, yet brought to the bay.

Well a daye, well a daye &c.

No more is not Norton, nor a nomber beside,
But all in good season, they maye hap to be spide,
It is well they be wandred, whether no man can say
But it will be remembered, they crie well a daie.

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

Where be the fyne fellowes, that caried the crosses,
Where be the deuisers, of Idoles and Asses,
Wher be the gaie Banners, were wont to be borne
where is the deuocion of gentyll Iohn Shorne.

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

Saint Pall, and Saint Peter, haue laid them a bord
and saie it is feetter to cleaue to Gods worde
Their Beades, & their bables, are best to be burnd
and Moises tables towardes them to be turnde.

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

And well a daye, wandreth still to and froe,
be wailinge the wonders, of rumors that goe,
Yet saie the stiffe necked let be as be maye,
though some be sore checked, yet some skape awaie

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

And such some be sowers of seedes of Sedicion,
and saie the popes pardo~, shall giue them remission
That kepe them selues, secrete and preeuilie saie,
it is no greate matter for this well a daye.

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

You shall haue more newes er Candelmas come
their be matters diffuse yet lookte for of some,
Looke on, and looke still, as ye longe to here newes
I thinke Tower hill, will make ye all muse.

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

If they that leaue tumblynge begin to war climing
for all your momblinge and merie pastimeing.
Ye will then beleeue, I am sure as I saie,
that matter will meene, a newe well a daye.

Well a dayes, well a daye. &c.

But as ye be faithlesse, of God and his lawe,
so till ye see hedles, the Traitors in strawe,
You wilbe still whisperinge of this and of that,
well a daye, woe is me, you remember it not

Well a daie, well a daie. &c.

Leaue of your lying, and fall to trewe reason,
leaue of your fonde spieng, and marke euery season
Against God & your contrie to taulke of revelling
not Syr Thomas Plumtrie can bide by ye telling

Well a daye, well a daye. &c.

And such as seduce the people with blyndnes,
and byd them to trust the Pope and his kyndnes
Make worke for the tynker, as prouerbes doth saie,
by such popishe patching, still comes well a daye.

Well a daye, well a daie. &c.

And she that is rightfull your Queene to subdue ye,
althoughe you be spitfull hath gyuen no cause to ye
But if ye will vexe her, to trie her hole force,
let him that comes next her, take heed of her horse

Well a daie, well a daie. &c.

Shee is the Lieftennante of him that is stowtest,
shee is defender of all the deuowtest,
It is not the Pope nor all the Pope may,
can make her astonyed, or singe well a daie.

Well a daie, well a daie.

God prosper her highnes, and send her his peace,
to gouerne good people, with grace, & increase,
And send the deseruers, that seeke the wronge way
at Tyborne some Caruers, to singe well a daie.

well a daie, well a daie. &c.

W. E.
Finis.

Composer of Ballad

William Elderton

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Durham marketplace

Printing Location

London : in Fleestrete [sic] beneath the conduit, at the signe of S. John Euangelist, by Thomas Colwell

Tune Data

Welladay (Simpson 1966, pp. 343-4).
Elderton_William-A_ballad_intituled_A_newe_well-STC-7553-A3_4_4_-p1.tif
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:18 +1000