4 50 153 https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/files/original/56d0dc2669898767d2101b56f9824b0c.jpg 2b3c2308ab3ce400a2a049d40a6a2527 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource English Execution Ballads Execution Ballad Synopsis Account of events that are the subject of the ballad Nicholas Balthorp prepares himself for his execution in Calais in 1550. Although his crime is not made explicit, this conforms to a tradition of martyr ballads, written in the voice of those executed for heresy. Transcription Transcription of ballad lyrics When raging death with extreme paine Most cruelly assaultes my herte, And when my fleshe, although in vaine, Doth feare the felinge of that smarte; For when the swerde wil stop mi brethe, Then am I at the poynt of death. I call to minde the goodnes greate The father promised to us al, Howe that his sonne for us should sweat Water and bloud, and drinke the gal, And should lose the life he hathe To pacifie his father's wrathe. And how we shuld by his sonnes death Knowe the father's mind and wil, And to preserve us stil in faith His commaundementes to fulfil; So that, before where we were slaine, By his bloud we might live againe. And where in thousand yeres ther were, Before the comming of this childe, Mani a man that came farre For lacke of knowledge was begild; As Pharaoe's people, whiche did rebel Againste Moses, deserving hel. But when the child had shed his bloud, He made us free wher we were bande; He after was to us so good To put is in the promised lande, And brought us from the lake so depe, Wher he him selfe of us take kepe. Then saide I streight unto my fleshe, The vile carkas, why doest thou fret That of this earthe art made so neshe, And naught thou art but wormes meat? In the have I no delyght, For al is vexed in sprite. Thou haste me caused to offende In folowing muche thi fleshely wil; But, God willing, now I shal amend, In token where of I do the kil, Because thou woldest not have him forgeve Thi shameful fauts while thou might live. Thou didest thi selfe so muche esteme Thou madest thi sprite the to obeye; But thi rewarde is, as I deme, Streight from the spirit now to decaie; And from the world thou shalt now turne, And be a subjecte to the worme. As for my spirite, I trust, he shal Amonge the auncient fathers slepe, Readie when the Lord doth cal His heavenlie deitie for to kepe: This is the chiefe grounde of my faithe, And ther upon I take my death. What availeth anie princely power, Yf God agreeth not them tyl? For if the Lorde doth apointe the houre, Thei can not worke against his wil; So that for me he doth prevente, For to agre I do consente. Beare record now, ye Christian al, That seethe the ende of this mi life, For helpe to none of you I cal, But unto God for mercie rife; But this to you I calle and crye, Witnes a christian do I die. Forgeve me al in this worlde wide, And praie for me whiles I do live: For do [no] mans sake tarieth the tide, Therfore I do you al forgeve. In the Lordes handes I do commend My spirite, and here I make an ende. Finis. Qd. Nicholas Balthorpe. Imprinted at london in Foster lane by Jhon Waley. Method of Punishment Method of punishment described in the ballad. beheading Crime(s) Crime or crimes for which the person in the ballad is convicted. heresy? Gender Gender of the person being executed. male Date Date of ballad 1550 Execution Location Location the condemned was executed. Calais Printing Location Location the ballad pamphlet was printed. London: John Waley, 1550 Digital Object <br /><iframe src="https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/files/fullsize/56d0dc2669898767d2101b56f9824b0c.jpg" frameborder="0" scrolling="yes" width="369" height="500"></iframe> Image notice Full size images of all ballad sheets available at the bottom of this page. Image / Audio Credit Society of Antiquaries Library, Early English Book, 1475-1640 (STC), reel position 2429:09. <a href="https://www.proquest.com/eebo/docview/2240932951/citation/473697C62017455CPQ/1?accountid=12372" target="_blank">EEBO record</a> (institutional login required). Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource A newe balade made by Nicholas Balthorp which suffered in Calys the .xv. daie of marche. MDL. https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/files/original/2a2c0d23c13cee063be754d027277fdd.jpg 557df9c56c5cb89bc3a4a594bac956c9 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource English Execution Ballads Execution Ballad Subtitle OR, / The Last farewell of the late Duke of Monmouth which was Beheaded on Tower-Hill on / the 15th of this Instant July 1685. / It is not well for to Rebell, / Against a Gracious Prince, / Let all beware and shun the Snare, / That would be Men of Sence. Synopsis Account of events that are the subject of the ballad Execution of the Duke of Monmouth because of his rebellion against the king. Set to tune of... Melody to which ballad is set. Russell's Farewell Transcription Transcription of ballad lyrics FArewell Farewell deceitful Pride, for thou hast me betray'd, Upon vain hopes I here relyed, when I the Traitor play'd: Had I not wandred with Lord Grey, which proves my overthrow, I never had beheld this day, to feel the Fatal Blow. Too much I hearkned to that Crew, which never did me good, But now I bid the World adieu, and here my dearest blood Must be a Ransome for my Crime, to pay the Death I owe, And Justice now has found a time, to strike the fatal Blow. Alas! I have not quite forgot the favour that I found, When I was in that Helish Plot, ah! this my soul doth Wound: That I again should be misled, into a sea of wooe, And here I must lay down my head, unto the fatal Blow. My proud aspiring heart I find, has brought me to this thing Ah! how could I be so unkind to such a Gracious King: Which once did interceed for me, as I in conscience know, But now pale Death must set me free, then wellcome fatal Blow. And now at last I did Rebell, against him in his Throne, I was most like an Infidel, as I may justly own: But this has wrought my lifes decay, and final Overthrow, And Juyice will no longer stay, but strike the Fatal Blow. While I did in Rebellion stand, some lives did you pay full dear, A sad confusion in the Land but now I bear a share, And brought to my deserved doom whether I would or no, No Friend I have that will presume, to stop the fatal Blow. False Friends alas hath ruin'd me, and brought me to this place, And now the sad effect I see, will end in my disgrace: My Lady I must leave behind, and my sweet Babes in wooe. For Destiny hath now design'd for me the fatal Blow: And now my last and dying Speech, is to advise you all, Both friends and Foes I do beseech, be warned by my fall: Let Loyolty your actions Crown, then you'l be free from woe, And now I willingly lye down, come strike the fatal Blow. Method of Punishment Method of punishment described in the ballad. beheading Crime(s) Crime or crimes for which the person in the ballad is convicted. treason Gender Gender of the person being executed. male Date Date of ballad 1685 Execution Location Location the condemned was executed. Tower Hill Printing Location Location the ballad pamphlet was printed. Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-Spur-Street without Newgate. URL https://ebba.english.ucsb.edu/ballad/20857/album Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Rebellion Rewarded with Justice. https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/files/original/bec0b34102d2d608e6edf669574df69e.jpg 05a73b79a0243611da039f6c6c350f41 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource English Execution Ballads Execution Ballad Subtitle Being the Last SPEECH and CONFESSION of Nine Malefactors, and Betrayers of the Lives and Liberties of the Good People of ENGLAND. But few Examples here are made Of such as have our Laws betray'd: The rest that have as ill Deserv'd For the next Sessions are Reserv'd. To the Tune of Packingtons Pound. Set to tune of... Melody to which ballad is set. Packingtons Pound Transcription Transcription of ballad lyrics I Am glad the happy Time is come, when Justice dare appear in open view. I am blind indeed, to signify my impartial Dispensation of Justice to all the World; but tho my Eyes are shut, my Ears are always open to the Complaints of Mankind; and amongst all the Countries I preside over, no Place has so bewailed my Absence as England. This has been the most unhappy Nation in the World. This Place has bred the Monsters of Mankind, and under what Villanies has this brave People groan'd for many Years? But now, my Friends, I JUSTICE am return'd; and so long as you maintain your Noble English Principles, I will never forsake you: And that you may believe I resolve to establish you upon the firmest Foundation, I have brought some of the Betrayers of your Country to be punish'd in the sight of this Great People. I have weighed these Men in my Ballance, and have found them the lightest that ever these Scals bore; therefore now my Sword takes place, I have brought them to Judgment, and will attend their Execution, and let all the Nation Triumph: for by such Sacrifices Heaven is appeased. GOOD English-men, Women and Children give ear, Unto the Confesson that we shall rehearse, 'Tis the dolefullest Story you ever did hear, By ourselves writ in Prose, by Friend Bayes put in Verse. To be great was my Scope, To the Devil and Pope, A Slave to Ambition, that ends in a Rope; For betraying Fair London, her Gates claim my Quarters, Take warning by me ye Supplanters of Charters. I car'd not for Precedent, Conscience or Law, Bear witness all you whom I have hang'd in the West, If ever I valu'd Mens Lives of a Straw, But could sentence a Prisoner, and then break a Jest. The Sword and the Gun Left the Work but half done, My Breath more destructive, slew Ten for their One; For I never gave Quarter where once I did seize, The World curs'd me for't, but I knew whom to please. On the Bench I could roar till I made the Walls shake, In Court Ecclesiastick could hector the Church; An Evidence too for a need I could make, E're I'd suffer the Cause to be left in the Lurch. the Curtains I got, Spy'd a Child reaking hot, Which the Mother n'ere bore, nor the Father n'ere got: My Eyes are the Vouchers of what I depose, If you question my Eyes, I appeal to my Nose. In Wapping at last I was snap'd by surprize, Thence dragg'd like a Varlet before my Lord-Mayor, Where I had the Honour, in spight of Disguise, Out of his small Senses his Lordship to scare: Thus much by the way Of Caution to say, Seem'd needful, for those that their Country betray, 'Twill sooner or later bring hanging about, So farewel, and take notice that now my Dream's out. 'TIS Matter of wonderment, how such a Varlet As I am, and of so vile Reputation, Should all on a sudden be clothed in Scarlet, Of Old none but Lawyers were fit for that Station: best to be plain, To conceal 't is in vain, It was to hang Armstrong that thither I came. And if you'l know more, give ear, I beseech, To the words of Lord Wem, in an Eloquent Speech. The Office of Judg, 'tis true, it a Trust is, And that you, Brother Hol. are not fit for that Place, Because, it is plain, you want Sense, Law, and Justice. Dispence with the Laws, we'll dispence in that Case: Do but do as you'r bid, You shall never be chid; I may ride Tantivy, but you must be rid. Young Jack will get practice, who at present has none; So that I'm to be hang'd for the Good of my Son. ABhorring Petitions brought me into Play, It dubb'd me a Knight, and it made me a Judg, I resolv'd for Advancement, I car'd not what way; And now have Preferment that no Man will grudg: To comply with the Court, Without Precedent for't, I thought three miles Whipping a Progress too short: A Sentence that made me abhorr'd by Mankind, Yet was sorry that I no worse Penance could find. On Jefferies I fastened, and stuck like a Bur, Like a Dog lick'd his Feet, slunk my Tail, hung my Ears; But at last my Patroon kick'd me out like a Cur; A Misfortune that then cost me many Salt Tears. Ye Perverters of Law, Before I withdraw, Take a word of Good Counsel to keep you in awe: Dispensers with Laws may escape for a Time, But Tyburn will never dispense with the Crime. SUborners were we, by some call'd the Pope's Mutes, Enrich'd by destroying of Free Corporations, And now of our Treachery reap the Just Fruits, Who for Pelf made no Bones of destroying three Nations. Such an infamous Brace, Does the Gallows Disgrace, And makes ev'n the Hangman asham'd of his Place: He grudges his Office on such wicked Elves, And could wish for his Part we had hanged ourselves. Like Villains abandoning Conscience and Shame, No Practice we baulk'd, but could Bribe, Forge and Lie; Like Blood-hounds could dext'rously find out the Game, While a Kennel of Witnesses kept up the Cry. To Collogue with the Court, Of Mens Lives we made sport; Old Dogs at Intrigues, but now must swing for't, With a Leash of vile Foremen of Juries that follows, Whom we then brought to Murders, and now to the Gallows. MAke room for such Varlets as n'ere cumber'd Sledg, The perjur'd vile Juries three Foremen are we, Our Number falls right, and we claim priviledg T' have each Man his Beam on the Triangle Tree. In Verdict agreed, Like a true Tory Breed, To shew ourselves Loyal, made th' Innocent Bleed: And after like Miscreants bragg'd of our Jobbs, But we must give place to our Orator Nobbs. ROom, room for Old Roger, the Scourge of the Nation, Through all my Disguises I cannot escape, I had better have stuck to my Trade of Translation, Than have undertook to be guide to the Crape: I instructed the Raw, And taught them to draw Good sound true Divinity out of false Law: Till Preachers and Pleaders came down with their Guinies, Which I pocketed up, and then laugh'd at the Ninnies. The Rights of the Subject by me were well known; The Frame of our Government none better knew: I wrote 'gainst my Conscience, and Knowledg, I own, But with Fools, not Philosophers, I had to do. Take warning each Wight That for Pensions do write, The practice may make a poor Scoundrel a Knight: But when you have Scribled, Buffoon'd, and Harangu'd, Th' next step of Preferment will be to be Hang'd. FINIS. Method of Punishment Method of punishment described in the ballad. hanging Gender Gender of the person being executed. male Execution Location Location the condemned was executed. Tyburn URL https://ebba.english.ucsb.edu/ballad/32789/image Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource A New BALLAD. The Triumph of Justice.