https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/browse?sort_field=added&sort_dir=a&output=atom <![CDATA[Execution Ballads]]> 2024-03-29T05:22:02+11:00 Omeka https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/834 <![CDATA[[...] / For which fact, he, his wife, and the other woman, were executed at Lanceston, last Lent Assizes, [...] ]]> 2020-01-08T14:27:27+11:00

Title

[...] / For which fact, he, his wife, and the other woman, were executed at Lanceston, last Lent Assizes, [...]

Subtitle

in chaines neere vnto the place where the murder was done.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballads 1.360-361; EBBA 20169

Set to tune of...

The Ladies Daughter, also known as Bonny Nell

Transcription

A Cruell Cornish Murder,
I briefely will declare,
at your attention further, my Story wondrous rare,
[A]nd doe not thinke tis fayned, because it seemeth strange,
What hath not Satan gained, when men from God doe range?
[...]t Crowen in that County, an old blind man doth dwell,
Who by good peoples bounty, did live indifferent well,
By name he's ca'ld Carnehewall , his house stood all alone,
Where [ke]pt this d[ee]d so cruell, the like was scarce ere knowne.
He had a proper Damsell that liv'd with him, his daughter,
To whom some suiters came still, and in true wedlocke sought her,
Because the newes was bruited, how that the blind man would,
Though he were poore reputed) give forty pounds in gold.
Oh, then bewitching money, what mischiefe dost thou cause,
Thou mak'st men dote upon thee, contrary to Gods Lawes.
What Murder is so hainous, but thou canst find out those,
Tha[t] willingly for gaine thus, will venter life to lose.
Nay often soule and body, as in this Story rare,
By the sufferance of God, I will punctually declare:
The fame of this mans riches, a Vagrant chanc't to heare,
In haste his fingers itches, away the same to beare.
This bloody murderous Villaine, whose fact all manhood shames,
Did live long time by stealing, his name was Walter James ,
Who with his wife, and one more yong woman, and a boy,
Three Innocents in purple gore, did cruelly distroy.
The twenty sixth of July , when it was almost night,
These wanderers unruly, on this lone house did light,
The old blind man was then abroad, and none but his old wife,
And a little Girle, ith' house abode, whom they depriv'd of life,
At first they ask'd for Vittle: quoth she, with all my heart,
Although I have but little, of that you shall have part;
He swore he must have money, alas, here's none she sed;
His heart then being stony, he straight cut off her head.

And then he tooke her G[irl child?] about some seven yeer[s old?]
Which he (oh monster [revil'd?)] by both the heeles did [hold?]

And beate her braines o[n the bed?]
oh barbarous cruelty,
The like of this I never [read?] in any history.

When they those two ha[d murder'd?] and tane what they de[sired?]
Like people fully [...], with joy, they sate by t[he fire?]

And tooke Tobacco mer[rily?] without all feare or dr[ead]
Knowing no house nor to[...] and while these two l[ay dead?]

In came the blind mans d[aughter] who had beene workin[g ?]
And seeing such a slaught[er] she wondrously was s[...]

No marvell, when her M[other?]
lay headlesse on the floor
Her zeale she could not [smother?] but running out oth' doo[r]

His Sword which lay ot[...] with her she tooke, an[...]
As fast as she was able,
she ran to call some folk[...]
To come and see the murd[er?] but after her he stept,
And ere she went much fur[ther]
he did her intercept.
[...]
[...] (oh stony-hearted wretch)
And into th' house he brought her: (what sighes alas I fetch,
To thinke upon this Tragedy) for he with mischeife stor'd,
Cut off her head most bloodily, with th' piece oth' broken Sword.
Thus did three harmlesse innocents
by one vile Caitiffes hand
With both the counsell and consents, oth' woman of his band:
Their heads and bodies laid they all very close together;
And being gone a little way, they did at last consider,
That if the house were burned,
the murder might be hid,
With that they backe returned, and as they thought, they did,
Setting the house on fire, which burned till next day,
Full many did admire,
as they went on the way.
These murtherers suspected that people would have thought,
Those three ith house enclosed, unto their deaths were brought,
By accident of fire, but God did then declare
His power [...] let's admire his wondrous workes most rare.
The murdered corps remained, as if no fire had beene,
Their clothes with blood besmeared, not burnt, as might be seene:
The leg and arme oth' Maiden, were only burnt in sunder,
Full many people said then, ith' middest of their wonder.
That surely there were murdered, by some that robd them had,
And presently twas ordered, that for this deed so bad,
All Vagrants on suspicion,
should apprehended be,
And in this inquisition, one happened to see,
Some clothes upon the parties, that from this house we[re] tane
And some before a Justice, the little boy told plaine,
All things before that passed: also the boy did say,
James was ith mind to kill him, lest he should all betray,
They taken were at Meriwicke , forty five miles, or more,
From Crowen where the murth[er]er was about a moneth before, Where in the Jayle they lay,
Untill the Lend Assize did come, which tooke their lives away[.]
The little Boy was quitted,
and sent unto the Parish,
Where he was borne, well fitted,
with clothes and food, to cherish
Him, as he ought with honesty and leaves his wandering trade:
The other three were doom'd to dye, on that which he had said.
But Walter James denyed, that ere he did that act,
For swearing (till he dyed, and when he dy'd) that fact
His wife at her last ending, confest the bloody guilt,
So monstrously offending, when so much blood was spilt.
The other woman after confest more plainely all:
James tooke his death with laughter and nere to God did call:
Thus as he liv'd a reprobate, and did God great reject,
His soule with Christ bought at deare rate, in death he did neglect.
He was hang'd dead at Lancestone , among the rest that di'd,
Then carried where the deed was done, and by the high-way side,
He hangeth, for example, in chaines now at this time,
Thus have I shew'd the ample discourse of this foule crime.
Objection may be framed, where was the old blind man:
Whom I have never named since when I first beganne.
He was abroad ith' interim, when this mischance befell,
Or else the like had hapt to him, but he is living still.
And goes about the Country, to begge, as he before
Did use, among the Gentry, and now his need is more.
All you that are kind Christians, thinke on this bloody deed.
And crave the Lords assistance, by it to take good heed.

The names of certaine eminent men of the
Countrey, for confirmation of the verity
of this tragicall Story.
John Albon. John Coade.
William Beauchamp. Ezekiel Treureu.
William Lanyon. John Blithe.
William Randall. John Treyeene.

Composer of Ballad

Martin Parker

Method of Punishment

Hanging in chains

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Printing Location

London Printed for F. Coules
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/835 <![CDATA[The Lord RUSSELS Farewel]]> 2020-01-08T14:26:29+11:00

Title

The Lord RUSSELS Farewel

Subtitle

VVho was Beheaded for High Treason, in Lincolns Inn Fields, JULY 21st. 1683.

Synopsis

Lord William Russell was one of those implicated in the Rye House plot against Charles II and James, Duke of York, early in 1683. Although he pleaded not guilty and there seems to have been little ground for suspecting him, he was convicted of high treason and exeuted July 21, 1683. A number of good-night ballads were written upon his death (Simpson 1966).

Ketch's execution of Lord Russell at Lincoln's Inn Fields on 21 July 1683 was performed clumsily; in a pamphlet entitled The Apologie of John Ketch, Esquire he alleged that the prisoner did not "dispose himself as was most suitable" and that he was interrupted while taking aim.

On that occasion, Ketch wielded the instrument of death either with such sadistically nuanced skill or with such lack of simple dexterity - nobody could tell which - that the victim suffered horrifically under blow after blow, each excruciating but not in itself lethal. Even among the bloodthirsty throngs that habitually attended English beheadings, the gory and agonizing display had created such outrage that Ketch felt moved to write and publish a pamphlet title Apologie, in which he excused his performance with the claim that Lord Russell had failed to "dispose himself as was most suitable" and that he was therefore distracted while taking aim on his neck.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

National Library of Scotland - Crawford, Shelfmark: Crawford.EB.1018; EBBA 34353

Set to tune of...

Transcription

P Ride the bane of humane creatures, will corrupt the best of natures, when it soars
to its full height, who can stand it or command it, when the object is in sight?

Reason is no more our jewel,
When our dearest thoughts are cruel, all her Maxims are forgot:
Else what reason, was for Treason, or this base inhumane Plot.

Russel that injoy'd the treasure,
Every way repleat with pleasure, had Allegience quite forgot:
Hopes of Risiing did advise him, to this base inhumane Plot.

Who alas! could he desire,
That himself could not require, pride did only his besott;
To aspire to grow higher, By a base inhumane Plot.

Safely might have liv'd for ever,
In a gracious Princes favour, and more honour there have got:
Then his thoughts what e're they wrought, By any base inhumane Plot.

Those false hopes that did deceive him,
With his nature will not leave him,
nor with his poor body rot:
Whilst records, the world affords, his Treason ne'r will be forgot.

Better be the Earl of Bedford ,
Then for Treason loose his Head for't, and to make his name a blot:
In each Lybel as a Rebbell, In a base inhumane Plot.

If his Prince had ever left him,
Or of any Grace bereft him, e're his Treason force his Lot:
Yet Obedience and Allegience, should have kept him from this Plot.

Treason is a Crime 'gainst nature,
Against Kings the highest matter, sure can never be forgot:
he that blames him does prophane him and his soul is in the Plot.

Russel dy'd then unlamented,
By all men but who consented to this damn'd inhumane Plot:
To Distroy the Nations joy, the King and Monarchy should Rot.

But Heavens preserve the Crimson Royal
And bring all the rest to tryal who Alegience have forgot:
And confounded be each Round-head, in this damn'd inhumane Plot.
FINIS.

Composer of Ballad

John Dean

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln's Inn Field

Printing Location

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball, in West-Smithfield.

Tune Data

Tender Hearts of London Cirty (Simpson 1966, p.699-701).
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/836 <![CDATA[A SONG of the Light of the three Nations turn'd into DARKNES ]]> 2020-01-08T14:27:54+11:00

Title

A SONG of the Light of the three Nations turn'd into DARKNES

Subtitle

Or Otes made Free-man of Whitington's Colledge, for Perjury, Scandalum Magnatum, and something like Treason.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library Bridgewater, Shelfmark: HEH 134252, EBBA 32136

Set to tune of...

Cavalilly-man

Transcription

Come all our Caballers & Parliament Votes
That stick'd for hanging & cuting of throats,
Lament the misfortune of perjured Otes.
Who first must be Pillor's and after be Hang'd.

What Devil suspected this, 5 years agon,
When I was in hopes to hang up half the Town,
I Swore against Miter and Cursed the Crown.
But now must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd.

I cursed the Bishops and hang'd up the Priests,
I swore my self Doctor yet never could Preach,
But a Cant full of Blasphemy all I could reach.
I now must be Pillor'd, and after be Hang'd.

Now Otes is i'th' Cubboard & Manger with Colt,
The Caldron may boyl me for fear I should molt,
here I've ne'r a Bum for a VVheel-Barrow jolt.
Yet now must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd.

My forty Commissions and Spanish balck Bills,
Invisible Armys lodg'd upon Hills,
Such old perjur'd Nonsence my Narrative fills.
That I now must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd.

My twelve pounds a Wee I want to support
For stinking i'th' City and fouling the Court,
Like Devil in Dungeon I'm now hamper'd fort.
Yet first must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd.

They hang us in order, the Devil knows how,
'Zounds all the e're put one paw to the Plow,
I ne'r fear'd the Devil would fail me till now.
That I first must be Pllor'd & after be hang'd.

For Calling the Duke a Papist and Traytor,
I often have call'd the King little better,
I'm fast by the heels like a Beast in a Fetter,
I first must be Pillor'd and after be Hang'd.

I swore that the Queen would Poyson the King,
That VVakeman had monys the Poyson to bring,
When I knew in my heart there was no such thing.
I now must be Pillor's and after be Hang'd.

I'm Resolv'd to be hang'd dead drunk like Hugh Peter
If I can but have my Skin stuft with good Liquor,
Then I shall limp to old Tapskie much quicker.
But I first must be Pillor'd and after be hang'd.

Method of Punishment

Hanging

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Printing Location

London Printed for J. Dean, Bookseller in Cranborn-street near Newport House in Leicester-Fields 1684.

Notes

Wikipedia: Titus Oates (15 September 1649 - 12/13 July 1705) was an English perjurer who fabricated the "Popish Plot", a supposed Catholic conspiracy to kill King Charles II.

The Popish Plot
Oates and Tonge wrote a lengthy manuscript that accused the Roman Catholic Church of approving an assassination of Charles II. The Jesuits in England were to carry out the task. In August 1678, King Charles was warned of this supposed plot against his life by the chemist Christopher Kirkby, and later by Tonge. The king was unimpressed but handed the matter over to his minister Earl of Danby, who was more willing to listen, and who was introduced to Oates by Tonge.

The King's Council interrogated Oates. On 28 September Oates made 43 allegations against various members of Catholic religious orders äóî including 541 Jesuits äóî and numerous Catholic nobles. He accused Sir George Wakeman, the queen's physician, and Edward Colman, the secretary to the Duchess of York (Mary of Modena), of planning to assassinate the king.
Although Oates probably selected the names randomly or with the help of the Earl of Danby, Colman was found to have corresponded with a French Jesuit, which condemned him. Wakeman was later acquitted.
Others Oates accused included Dr William Fogarty, Archbishop Peter Talbot of Dublin, Samuel Pepys, and Lord Belasyse. With the help of the Earl of Danby the list grew to 81 accusations. Oates was given a squad of soldiers and he began to round up Jesuits, including those who had helped him in the past.

On 6 September 1678, Oates and Tonge approached an Anglican magistrate. On 12 October, Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, an Anglican magistrate, disappeared and was found dead five days later in a ditch at Primrose Hill. He had been strangled and run through with his own sword. In September Oates and Tonge had sworn an affidavit in front of Godfrey detailing their accusations. Oates exploited this incident to launch a public campaign against the "Papists" and alleged that this murder had been the work of the Jesuits.

On 24 November, Oates claimed the Queen was working with the King's physician to poison the King, and Oates enlisted the aid of "Captain" William Bedloe, who was ready to say anything for money. The King personally interrogated Oates, caught him out in a number of inaccuracies and lies, and ordered his arrest. However, a couple of days later, Parliament forced Oates' release with the threat of constitutional crisis.
Oates soon received a state apartment in Whitehall and an annual allowance of £1,200. Oates was heaped with praise. He asked the College of Arms to check his lineage and produce a coat of arms for him. They gave him the arms of a family that had died out. There were even rumours that Oates was to be married to a daughter of the Earl of Shaftesbury.

After nearly three years and the executions of at least 15 men who are now thought to be innocent of the Plot, opinion began to turn against Oates. The last high-profile victim of the climate of suspicion was Oliver Plunkett, Archbishop of Armagh, who was executed on 1 July 1681. Judge William Scroggs began to declare more people innocent, as he had done in the Wakeman trial, and a backlash took place.

On 31 August 1681, Oates was told to leave his apartments in Whitehall, but remained undeterred and denounced the King, the Duke of York, and just about anyone[who?] he regarded as an opponent. He was arrested for sedition, sentenced to a fine of £100,000 and thrown into prison. When James II acceded to the throne, he had a score to settle. He had Oates retried and sentenced for perjury to annual pillory, loss of clerical dress, and imprisonment for life. Oates was taken out of his cell wearing a hat with the text "Titus Oates, convicted upon full evidence of two horrid perjuries" and put into the pillory at the gate of Westminster Hall (now New Palace Yard) where passers-by pelted him with eggs. The next day he was pilloried in London and a third day was stripped, tied to a cart, and whipped from Aldgate to Newgate. The next day, the whipping resumed. The judge was Judge Jeffreys who stated that Oates was a "shame to mankind".

Oates spent the next three years in prison. At the accession of William of Orange and Mary in 1688, he was pardoned and granted a pension of £5 a week but his reputation did not significantly recover. The pension was later suspended, but in 1698 was restored and increased to £300 a year. Titus Oates died on 12 July or 13 July 1705.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/837 <![CDATA[A ballad intituled, A newe well a daye]]> 2021-02-15T13:08:37+11:00

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).
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/838 <![CDATA[A BALLAD ON THE MURDER OF MR HAYES BY HIS WIFE]]> 2019-01-18T15:27:52+11:00

Title

A BALLAD ON THE MURDER OF MR HAYES BY HIS WIFE

Synopsis

Execution by strangulation and burning at the stake of Catherine Hayes on May 9 1726 for the murder of her husband Mr Hayes by beating and dismemberment with an axe.

Set to tune of...

Chevy Chase

Transcription

In Ty-burn road a man there lived
A just and honest life,
And there he might have lived still,
If so had pleased his wife.
Full twice a day to church he went,
And so devout would be,
Sure never was a saint on earth,
If that no saint was he!
This vext his wife unto the heart,
She was of wrath so full,
That finding no hole in his coat,
She picked one in his scull.
But then heart began to relent,
And griev'd she was so sore,
That quarter to him for to give,
She cut him into four.
All in the dark and dead of night,
These quarters she conveyed,
And in a ditch in Marybone,
His marrow-bones she laid.
His head at Westminster she threw,
All in the Thames so wide,
Says she, 'My dear, the wind sets fair,
And you may have the tide.'
But Heav'n, whose pow'r no limit knows,
On earth or on the main,
Soon caus'd this head for to be thrown
Upon the land again.
The head being found, the justices,
Their heads together laid;
And all agreed there must have been
Some body to this head.
But since no body could be found,
High mounted on a shelf,
They e'en set up the head to be,
A witness for itself.
Next, that it no self-murder was,
The case itself explains,
For no man could cut off his head,
And throw it in the Thames.
Ere many days had gone and passed,
The deed at length was known.
And Cath'rine, she confess'd at last,
The fact to be her own.
God prosper long our noble King,
Our lives and safeties all,
And grant that we may warning take,
By Cath'rine Hayes's fall.

Method of Punishment

strangulation; burning

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

URL

Catherine Hayes Murderpedia entry
See also, Tales from the Hanging Court, by Time Hitchcock ad Roberk Brink Shoemaker (2006), pp. 48 ff
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/839 <![CDATA[A ballad reioysinge the sodaine fall, of rebels that thought to deuower vs all.]]> 2021-02-15T13:05:40+11:00

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]
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/840 <![CDATA[A breefe balet touching the traytorous takynge of Scarborow Castell.]]> 2021-02-15T13:11:03+11:00

Title

A breefe balet touching the traytorous takynge of Scarborow Castell.

Synopsis

The abortive uprising of Thomas Stafford

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Society of Antiquaries, no. 40, STC (2nd ed.) / 13290.7. EEBO record (institutional login required). 

Transcription

OH valiaunt inuaders gallants gaie.
Who, with your compeeres conqueringe the route,
Castels or towrs: all standynge in your waie,
Ye take, controlling all estates most stoute.
Yet had it now bene good to looke aboute.
[illegible] to haue let alone,
And take scarborow warnynge euerichone.

By Scarborow castell, not Scarborow:
I onely meane: but further vnderstande,
Eche Hauene, eche hold, or other harborow,
That our good Kyng and Queene do holde in hande:
As dewe obedience bindth vs in bande.
Their Scarborow castels to let a lone,
And take Scarborow warnings euerychone.

The scalers of which castells euermore,
In bookes of olde, and in our eyes of new:
Haue alway lost them selues and theirs therfore.
All this ye did forget: in time to vew.
Which myght haue wrought both you and yours teschew:
Lettyng Scarborow castel now alone,
Takyng Scarborow warnyng euerychone.

This Scarborow castell, symplie standyng:
Yet could that castell slyly you begyle,
Ye thought ye tooke the castell: at your landyng:
The castell takyng you: in the selfe whyle.
Eche stone within the castell wall did smyle,
That Scarborow castell ye let not alone,
And tooke Scarborow warnyng euerychone.

Your puttyng now in vre your dyuylishe dreame,
Hath made you see (and lyke enough to feele)
A fewe false traytours can not wynne a reame,
Good subiectes be (and will be) trew as steele.
To stand with you, the ende they lyke no deele.
Scarborow castels they can lette alone,
And take Scarborow warnyng{is} euerychone.

They know gods law: tobey their Kyng and Queene.
Not take from them: but kepe for them their owne.
And geue to them: when such traytours are seene
As ye are now: to brynge all ouerthrowne:
They woorke your ouerthrow, by god{is} power growne.
God saith: let Scarborow castell alone,
Take Scarborow warnyng euerychone.

To late for you, and in time for the rest
Of your most traytorous sect (if any bee)
You all are spectacles at full witnest:
As other weare to you: treason to flee.
Which in you past, yet may the rest of yee:
The saide Scarborow castells let alone,
And take Scarborow warnyngs euerychone.

This terme Scarborow warnyng, grew (some say),
By hasty hangyng, for rank robbry theare.
Who that was met, but suspect in that way,
Streight was he trust vp: what euer he weare.
Wherupon theeues thynkyng good to forbeare,
Scarborow Robbyng they let that alone,
And tooke Scarborow warnyng euerychone.

If Robbyng in that way, bred hangyng so,
By theft to take, way, towne, castell and all,
What Scarborow hangyng craueth this lo:
Weare your selues herein Iudges capitall:
I thinke your Iudgementes on these woords must fall.
Scarborow Robbyng who letth not alone,
Scarborow hangyng deserue euerychone.

We wold to god that you (and al of yow)
Had but considered: as wel as ye knew:
The end of all traytorie, as you see it now,
Long to haue liued, louyng subiectes trew.
Alas: your losse we not reioyse, but rew.
That Scarborow castell ye leete not alone,
And tooke Scarborow warnyng euerychone.

To craft{is} that euer thryue, wyse men euer cleaue.
To crafts that seeld when thryue, wyse men seeld when flee.
The crafts that neuer thryue, a foole can learne to leaue.
This thriftles crafty crafte then clere leaue we.
One God, one Kynge, one Queene, serue franke and free.
Their Scarborow castell let it alone,
Take we Scarborow warning euerichone.

Our soueraigne lord: and soueraigne lady both.
Lawde we our lorde, for their prosperitee.
Beseching him for it: as it now goth,
And to this daie hath gone, that it may bee:
Continued so, in perpetuitee.
We lettyng theyr Scarborow castells alone,
Takyng Scarborow warnings euerychone,
Finis{que}

Composer of Ballad

John Heywood

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tower Hill

Printing Location

England London Fleetestrete

Tune Data

Composer: Thomas Powell
Reference: (Simpson 1966, pp. 176-77)

Notes

Wikipedia: Thomas Stafford was the ninth child and second surviving son of Henry Stafford, 1st Baron Stafford and Ursula Pole. Little is known of his early life, first being mentioned in 1550 as he travelled to Rome, where he associated with his uncle Reginald, Cardinal Pole.

He spent three years in Italy before travelling to Poland, obtaining the recommendation of King Sigismund Augustus who requested Mary restored him to the Dukedom of Buckingham. Augustus's appeal appeared to have no effect. When Stafford returned to England in January 1554 he joined the rebellion led by Thomas Wyatt; this arose out of concern of Mary's determination to marry Philip II of Spain. The rebellion failed and Thomas was captured and briefly imprisoned in the Fleet Prison before fleeing to France. There, he intrigued with other English exiles and continued to promote his claim to the English throne. On 18 April 1557 (Easter Sunday) Stafford sailed from Dieppe with two ships and over 30 men.

Landing in Scarborough on 25 April 1557, he walked into the unprotected Castle and proclaimed himself Protector of the Realm, attempting to incite a new revolt by denouncing the Spanish marriage, railed against increased Spanish influence and promised to return the crown 'to the trewe Inglyshe bloude of our owne naterall countrye'. Stafford claimed he had seen letters at Dieppe showing that Scarborough and 12 other castles would be given to Philip II and garrisoned with 12,000 Spanish soldiers before his coronation. Three days later, the Earl of Westmorland recaptured the castle and arrested Stafford and his companions. Stafford was beheaded for treason on 28 May 1557 on Tower Hill, after imprisonment in the Tower. Thirty-two of his followers were also executed after the rebellion.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/841 <![CDATA[A Congratulation on the happy discovery of the hellish fanatick plot]]> 2020-01-08T14:26:29+11:00

Title

A Congratulation on the happy discovery of the hellish fanatick plot

Synopsis

This is a Tory song attacking Whig i.e. Protestants, think 'Presbyter' refers to Stephen College, and the other names are 17C printers/publishers/booksellers: Richard Janeway, Langley Curtis, Henry Care, etc.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Bindley (formerly Luttrell), HEH 135815; EBBA 32286

Set to tune of...

Now, now the Fight's done

Transcription

1.
COme now let's Rejoyce,
And the City Bells ring,
And the Bonefires kindle,
Whilst unto the KING
We pay on our Knees
The grand Tribute that's due,
Of Thanks and Oblations,
Which now we renew,
For Mercies that we
Have received of late,
From Prudence and Justice
Diverting our Fate.

2.
The Curtain is drawn,
And the Clouds are dispers'd;
The PLOT's come to light,
That in darkness did Nest:
Jack Calvin's display'd
With his Colours in Grain,
And who were the Traytors
And Villains 'tis plain:
The Traps that they laid,
And the Snares that they set,
Have caught them at last
In their own silly Net:

3.
The Foreman himself,
That Off-Spring of Hell,
In whose wicked Breast
All Treason doth dwell,
To the Tower is sent,
With his Triple Name,
Whilst the Triple-Tree groans
For his Carcass again,
And many Rogues more
Their Leader will follow
Unto the same Place,
Whilst we whoop and Hollow.

4.
The Libelling Tribe
Who so long have Reign'd,
And sowed Sedition,
Shall now be Arraign'd;
Their Shams and their Lies
Shall do them no good,
When they come to the Tree,
There's no Shamming that Wood:
Janeway and Curtis
In the Forlorn Hope,
Then Vile, Smith and Care
Shall Neck the next Rope.

5.
So, so, let them dye
That would Monarchs destroy,
And spit all their Venom
Our Land to annoy;
If that their Pow'r were
To their Malice equal,
And their Courage the same,
They'd soon ruine all;
But their Courage is low,
And their Power but small;
Their Treaon is High,
And must have a Fall.

6.
When Trojans of Old
(Our Ancestors) were
In danger of Shipwrack,
And toss'd here and there;
Great Neptune soon quell'd
Those Rebels and Storms,
With brandished Trident,
And free'd them from harms;
They fled from his Face,
Through the guilt of their Cause,
As these from our Lion,
If he stretch out his Paws.

7.
Go Devils, be gone
To the Region below,
Here's no business of yours,
Or ought left to do:
No Tempter we need,
We can act all our selves,
Without any help
From you silly Elves;
For what Presbyter Acts,
He thinks a disgrace
All Hell should out-doe him,
Or dare shew their Face.

8.
For produce all the Ill
That Hell ever hatch'd,
'Tis nothing at all,
When it comes to be match'd
With what has been Plotted
By Traytors of late,
Who aim'd at the Ruine
Of Church, and of State:
By Perjury, Bribes,
By suborning all Evil,
By Murther, and worse
Than e're came from th' Devil.

9.
Now Presbyter come
And submit thy stiff Neck,
Thou labour'st in vain
Our great Monarch to check;
Whose Power Divine
No Mortals controul,
But hazard the loss
Of both Body and Soul:
Then banish for ever
Your Commonwealth hope,
Which tends to destruction,
And ends with A ROPE.

EPILOGUE
With Wine of all sorts
Let the Conduits run free,
And each true heart drink
The KING's Health on his Knee,
No Treason shall lodge
In our Breasts while we live,
To God, and to Caesar
Their Due we will give;
We'l pray with our Hearts,
And fight with our Hands,
Against all Fanaticks,
When Great CHARLES Commands.

Method of Punishment

hanging; drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Oxford

Notes

Wikipedia: Stephen College (c.1635-1681) was an English joiner, activist Protestant, and supporter of the perjury underlying the fabricated Popish Plot. He was tried and executed for high treason.

Life: He was born about 1635, and worked at the trade of carpentry. He became known as an anti-Catholic political speaker. He had been a presbyterian until the Restoration of 1660, when he conformed to the church of England. He made himself notorious by his declamations against the papists, by writing and singing political ballads, and by inventing a weapon for self-defence at close quarters, which he called 'the protestant flail. ' He knew many persons of rank. Lord William Russell and Lady Berkeley showed him kindness.' He was one of the bitterest opponents of Lord William Stafford, and exulted over his condemnation and death. Among the writings attributed to him are coarse attacks on lawyers and Catholics,. Among these are 'Truth brought to Light, or Murder will out;' 'Justice in Masquerade, or Scroggs upon Scroggs;' another beginning ' Since Justice Scroggs Pepys and Dean did bail;' 'The Pope's Advice and Benediction to his Judge and Jury in Eutopia;' 'The Wolf Justice ' (against Scroggs); 'A Caution,' and 'A Satyr' against James, Duke of York, the Duchess of Portsmouth, and William Scroggs, whom he hated for acquitting George Wakeman.

When the parliament moved to Oxford, in March 1681, College went there on horseback, ostentatiously displaying weapons and wearing defensive armour, speaking threateningly against the king, and advocating resistance. In June 1681, after the condemnation of Edward Fitzharris, College was arrested, carried before Secretary of State Leoline Jenkins on 29 June, and committed to the Tower. He was indicted at the Old Bailey on 8 July for seditious words and actions, but saved by the influence of Slingsby Bethel and Henry Cornish, sheriffs of whig sympathies. They packed a grand jury who returned a verdict of ignoramus, or “we do not know" (i.e. "we know of no reason why he should stand trial").

At nearly two o'clock in the morning the jury retired, and in half an hour gave their verdict of guilty. The court then adjourned until ten o'clock, when sentence of death was pronounced against him. He was visited in prison by two of the university divines, Dr. Marshall and Dr. Hall, who declared him to be penitent. His family was admitted to see him, and attempts made to obtain a remission of the sentence, but the sole concession granted was that his quarters should be delivered to his friends. On 31 August he was taken in a cart to the place of execution, and made a long speech, chiefly to clear himself from the charge of being a papist. He was then hanged and quartered. His body was buried the next evening at St. Gregory's Church, by St. Paul's.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/842 <![CDATA[A cruell murther committed lately upon the body of Abraham Gearsy ]]> 2021-02-15T13:12:11+11:00

Title

A cruell murther committed lately upon the body of Abraham Gearsy

Subtitle

who liv'd in the Parish of Westmill, in the County of Harford; by one Robert Reeve, and Richard Reeve, both of the same Parish: for which fact Robert was prest to death, on Munday the 16. of March, and the Tuesday following Richard was hang'd; and after both of them were hang'd up in chaines, where now they doe remaine, to the affrightment of all beholders. 1635. To the tune of Fortune my Foe.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Reproduction of the original in the British Library , STC / 5418, Wing / 2123:488-489. EEBO record (institutional login required). 

Set to tune of...

Transcription

I pray give eare unto my tale of woe,
Which Ile declare that all may plainly knowe.
Neare Harford lately was a murder done,
O twas a cruell one, as ever was knowne.

The good with evil herein was repaide,
Him that did good the evil hath betraid,
The world is lately growne to such a passe,
That one may feare another in this case.

This money is the cause of manies death,
As twas the cause that one late lost his breath,
The devill and the money workes together,
As by my subiect you may well consider.

With teares of woe I am inforst to write,
That which may cause a tender heart to sigh,
And sighing say, this was a wofull case,
That men should be so much voide of all grace.

Two brethren were there that did doe the same,
The first calld Robert Reeve, the others name
Was Richard Reeve, these did a horrid déed,
As in my following verses shall proceede.

Behold these lines, you that have any care,
And from bloodshedding alwayes doe forbeare;
Though murder be committed secretlye,
Yet for revenge to God it loud doth crye.

And that sinne goes not long unpunished,
Therefore let all men of this sinne take héede:
Many are daily for such crimes accused,
And yet alas too commonly tis used.

One of these brothers was in debt I heare,
Vnto that man, which was his neighbour néere,
But hée repaid him with a envious mind,
As in the story you shall plainly find.

Abraham Gearsie was his name, that was kild,
By those two brothers, as the Devill wild:
He on a day demanded mony due,
I pray give eare and marke what doth insue.

They wish'd him to come home for to be paid,
But for his life it s[ee]mes they wast had laid:
For one day twas his chance for to come there,
Not dreading that his death had bin so néere.

Now these two brothers kild him instantly,
No neighbour was there that did heare him cry:
And being dead floung him in a sawpit,
And coverd him with such as they could get.

Now having hid this murder in that kind,
Great search was made, but none this man could find
His friends lamented for him very sore.
And made inquiris all the country ore.

The second part, To the same tune.

SIx wéekes it was ere it was plainly knowne,
And many were examin'd herevpon:
But these two brothers much suspected were,
And at the last the truth it did appeare.

Some murmured and sayd that they did owe
Him mony, and desired for to know
Whether they had giuen him satisfaction,
Who said, they had, and they did owe him none.

About this mony all did come to light,
Now being put for to approue this right
They could in no wise iustifie the same.
When they to true examination came.

Now they were asked for a quittans made,
But they had none, then others present said,
Where is your bond or witnes of the same?
This must be prou'd, or you will suffer blame.

They being taxed on this wise confest,
How they in bloody murder had transgrest:
Then were they sent to Harford gaile with spéed,
Where they did answere, for this wicked déed.

This lent on sises last their fact was tri'd,
Where they were cast, condemnd and for it di'd,
Robert was prest to death because that hée
Would not bée tride by God and the country.

Richard was hangd by his owne Fathers dore,
Which did torment and grieue his friends full sore,
Now hée and's brother both do hang in chains,
This is a iust reward for murders gaines.

I would intreat all men sor to beware,
Of chue this crying sinne and still for beare,
Good Lord, me thinkes it is a cruell thing,
Of all sins else this may each conscience sting.

This being done, what is hée can forbeare,
With troubled conscience to shed many a feare?
'Tis fearefull sure for to be thought upon,
Although that it be ners so secret done.

Our God is love, and he doth charg us all,
To love each other, but we often fall
From love and unity, to envious evill,
Thus leave we God, and runne unto the Devill.

This may be warning for all other men,
That doe but heare of those vile bretheren:
And more consider 'tis a fearefull sight
To see them hang'd, it would our hearts afright·

Yet some there are that will not frighted be
At all, the warnings that they dayly sée:
Too many doe estéeme such things as nought,
Or else there would not be such murther wrought.

Thus to conclude, pray lets to God for grace,
And alwaies have his feare before our face:
Fly bloody murther, and such horrid sinnes,
Then God will kéep you from such shamefull ends.

FINIS.

R. C.

Composer of Ballad

Richard Crimsal

Method of Punishment

hanging in chains, pressing, hanging

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Westmill, Harford

Printing Location

Printed at London : for John Wyright Junior, dwelling at the upper end of the Old Baily,
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/843 <![CDATA[A declaration of the death of Iohn Lewes, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:29:12+11:00

Title

A declaration of the death of Iohn Lewes,

Subtitle

a most detestable and obstinate Hereticke, burned at Norwich, the xviii, daye of September. I583. About three of the clocke in the after noone.

Synopsis

Lewes was an early Unitarian. Although this piece vilifies him as 'this devil.../though shape of man he bare', yet because the text presents a detailed account of events on the day of his execution, Lewes' courage in the face of death shines through.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Society of Antiquaries, London no. 77; EBBA 36314 

Set to tune of...

John Careless

Transcription

OF late (alas) the great untruth
Of Traitours, how it sped
Who list to know, shal here [?]ave
How late allegeance fled.

If Rivers 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 leave 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 commandement be,
If he their state regarde:
And no man lives whose destinie
By him is unpreparde.

But when a man forsakes the ship,
And rowles in wallowing waves:
And of his voluntarie wyll,
His owne good hap depraves:

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 subjecte to payne?

How sundrie times in Dangers den
Is throwne the man unwyse?
Who climes withouten holde on hye,
Beware, I him advize.

All such as trust to false contracts,
Or secret harmes conspire?
Be sure, with Nortons they shal taste
A right deserved hire.

They can not looke for better speede,
No death for such too fell?
God grant the justice of the worlde
Put by the paynes of hell.

For such a pensive 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 Queene
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 loveth to sucke no blood:
Yet God a caveat wyll her lend
Tappease those Vipers moode.

A man that sees his house on fire,
Wyll seke to quench the flame:
Els from the spoyle some parte convey,
Els seke the heate to tame.

Who seee a penthouse wether beate,
And heares a boistrouse wynde:
But heedefull safetie of himselfe,
Wyll force him succour fynde?

The pitifull pacient Pellican,
Her blood although shee shed:
Yet wyll shee seme her date to end,
Or care her young be sped.

The Eagle flynges her yong ones downe
That sight of sunne refuse:
Unperfect fowles shee deadly hates,
And rightly such misuse.

The Crane wolde flye up to the Sunne,
I heard it once of olde:
And with the kyng of byrdes did strive
By Fame, I heard it tolde

And do woe she wolde not fal f[?]e no,
But higher styll did moun[t]:
Til past her reach (saith olde reporte)
Shame made a backe recoun[?]

I touch no Armes herein at all [?]
But shew a fable wyse:
Whose morall sence doth repr[?]
Of clymers hye the guyse.

Who buyldes a house of many [?],
and laith not ground work[?]
But doth extorte the ground b[?]g,
His buildyng can not dure[?]

Who sekes surmising to disp[?]
a Ruler sent by GOD:
Is subject sure, devoide 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 flying 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 untrue.

To cuntrye, causers of much woe,
To faithfull freendes, 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 fit 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 Judas sought his wage.

How Jannes and Jambres did abyde
The brunt of brainesicke acts,
How Dathan, Chore, Abiram seemd
To dash our Moyses facts.

How Romaine marchant set a fresh
His pardons brave a sale,
How alwayes some against the Truth
Wolde dreame a senceles tale.

Gods vicar from his god receaved
The keyes to lose and bynd:
Baals chaplein thoght h[?] fire wold [?]e
Such was his pagan mynd.

Good Lorde how hits the text their [?]ts
That saith such men shall bee
In their religion hot nor colde
Of much varietie.

And sundry sorts of sects surt[?]
Division shall appeare:
Against the father, sonne sha[?]yve,
Gainst mother, daughter [?]re.

Is it not come to passe trow y[?]?
Yea, bastards sure they bee,
Who our good mother Queene of [?]
Withstand rebelliouslie.

Can God his vengeance long retain[?]
Where his true servants feele
Injuriouse spights of godlesse men,
Who turne as doth a wheele?

No no, his suffryng long (be sure)
Wyll pay his foes at last:
His mercye moved once away,
He shall them quight out cast

With sentence just for their untruth,
And breakyng of his wyll:
The fruits of their sedicious seeds,
The barnes of earth shall fyll.

Their soules God wot sore clogd with crime
And their posteritie
Bespotted sore with their abuse,
And stand by their follie.

Their livyngs 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 up your snouts you sluggish sorte
You mumming maskyng route:
Extoll your exclamations up,
Baals chapleines, champions stoute.

Make sute for pardons, papists brave,
For traitours indulgence:
Send out some purgatorie scraps,
Some Bulls with Peter pence.

O swarme of Drones, how dare ye styl
With labouryng Bees contend?
You sought for honie from the hives,
But gall you found in end.

These waspes do wast, their stings be out
Their spight wyll not avayle:
These Peacocks proude are naked lefte
Of their displayed tayle.

These Turkye cocks in cullour red,
So long have lurkt aloofe:
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 bee.

The Lyon suffred long the Bull,
His noble mynd to trye:
Untyll 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 leave his rageing tunes
In scilence to be put.

And all the calves 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,
Survey 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 have your guiles out sought
And all your craft approved,
Peccavimus shall be your song
Your ground worke is removed.

And looke how Nortons sped their wills
Even so their sect shall have,
No better let them hope to gayne
But gallowes without grave.

Composer of Ballad

Thomas Gilbart

Method of Punishment

burning

Crime(s)

heresy

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Norwich, Norfolk

Printing Location

London, by Richard Jones, dwelling neere Holburne Bridge. October. 8.

Tune Data

John Careless mentioned in Simpson (1966, p. 534).
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/844 <![CDATA[A discription of Nortons falcehod Of Yorke shyre, and of his fatall farewel. ]]> 2020-01-08T14:36:58+11:00

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.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/845 <![CDATA[A few Lines Upon the awful EXECUTION of John Ormesby & Matth. Cushing, October 17th. 1734 ]]> 2020-01-10T14:25:11+11:00

Title

A few Lines Upon the awful EXECUTION of John Ormesby & Matth. Cushing, October 17th. 1734

Subtitle

One for Murder, the other for Burglary.

Image / Audio Credit

Pamphlet Location: AAS Record Number: 10415EC029ECF0D0, Record Number: w015181
Recorded in Early American Imprints, Series 1, no. 40044 (filmed)

Transcription

ALL you who read these Lines may see
The sad and dire Effects of Sin:
Therefore if Sinners still you'l be,
Leave off to read ere you begin.

Or else perhaps another Day,
This will 'gainst you a Witness be;
You Warning have (mind waht I say)
That from such Sins you do keep free.

Two Men who have great Sinners been,
Now Die, each one for his own Crime:
Not Forty Years hath th'oldest seen,
The other Dies just in his Prime.

Poor John Ormesby, confin'd in Jayl
(For some mis-deed by him transacted)
There in a rage murder'd one Bell,
Some People think he was Distracted.

With a Quart Pot one blow he gave,
For which he had small Provocation:
The poor Man's Life they could not save;
This the Effect of his vile Passion!

Matthew Cushing, alas! poor he
To satisfy the Law must Die;
And tho' his Crime so great may'nt be,
Yet by the Law 'tis Burglary.

They both of them fair Trials had,
The Jury brought them Guilty in;
Their Case is pitiful and sad;
See what they're come to by their Sin!

They to the fatal Place must ride
Each Man his Coffin in the Cart,
With Guard of Soldiers on each side:
The Sight enough to pierce one's Heart.

Then they arrive at th' Gallows Tree,
While Spectators lament and cry;
Alas! how hard it is to see,
Much more to feel their Destiny.

The fatal Moment now is near,
That these poor Mortals must go hence,
To answer for what they did here:
Their lasting State will soon commence.

As the Tree falls, so it will lie,
And must for evermore remain;
So with these Men, just as they Die,
'Twill be, in endless Joy or Pain.

Poor Men! they feel the Pangs of Death,
And now they view Eternity;
Few Moments more will stop their Breath,
And then, alas; they Die, they Die!

May this to all a Warning be,
That they forsake the way that's Evil,
From Murder, Theft, and Burglary,
Keep clear, when tempted by the Devil.

Avoid lewd Women, ever shun
Their Company, entangling Snares,
By them, poor Youths are oft undone,
The Truth of this Cushing declares.

From Swearing and from Cursing too,
Mind that you always do keep clear;
Or this you'll have great cause to rue;
And in the End you'l find them dear.

Let the Commands of Parents dear
Strictly obeyed be, and then
You may expect to be bless'd here
And after death also. Amen.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

burglary

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Boston Neck

Printing Location

[Boston] Printed and sold [by Samuel Kneeland and Timothy Green] at the printing house in Queen-Street, over against the prison., 1734]
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/846 <![CDATA[A Lamentable Ditty made on the Death of Robert Deverux Earl of Essex, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:38:12+11:00

Title

A Lamentable Ditty made on the Death of Robert Deverux Earl of Essex,

Subtitle

who was Beheaded in the Tower of London, on Ash-Wednesday, 1603.
A Lamentable Ballad on the Earl of Essex Death

Synopsis

Execution of Robert Deverux Earl of Essex by beheading at the Tower of London

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballds 2.162-3; EBBA 20781 // EBBA 32618

Set to tune of...

Welladay // Essex' Last Good-night

Transcription

SWeet Englands pride is gone,
welladay, welladay,
Which makes her sigh and groan,
evermore still,
He did her fame advance,
In Ireland Spain and France,
And by a sad mischance,
is from us tane.
He was a vertuous Peer,
weladay, etc.
And was esteemed dear,
evermore still.
He always lov'd the poor,
Which makes them sigh full sore,
His death they did deplore,
in every place.
Brave honour grac'd him still,
gallantly, gallantly,
He ne'r did deed of ill,
well it is known,
But envy that foul fiend,
Whose Malice there doth end,
Hath brought true vertues friend,
unto this thrall.
At Tilt he did surpass,
gallantly, etc,
All men that is and was,
evermore still,
One day as it was seen,
In honour of the Queen,
Such deeds are seldome been,
as he did do,
Abroad and eke at home,
gallantly, gallantly,
For valour there was none,
like him before,
But Ireland France and Spain,
That feared great Essexs name,
But England lov'd the same,
in every place.
But all would not prevail,
welladay, welladay,
His deeds did not prevail,
more was the pitty,
He was condemn'd to dye,
For Treason certainly,
But God that sits on high,
knoweth all things.
That Sunday in the Morn,
welladay, etc,
That he to the City came
with all his Troops.
That first began the strife,
And caus'd him loose his life,
And others did the like,
as well as he.
Yet her Princely Majesty,
graciously, graciously,
Hath pardon given free,
to many of them,
She hath releast them quite,
And given them their right,
They did pray day and night,
God to defend her.
Shrove-Tuesday in the night,
welladay, etc.
With a heavy hearted spight,
as it is said,
The Lieutennant of the Tower,
Who kept him in his power,
At ten a clock that hour,
to him did come,
And said unto him there,
mournfully, etc.
Mo Lord you must prepare,
to dye to morrow,
Gods will be done, quoth he,
Yet shall you strangely see,
God strong in me to be,
though I am weak.
I pray you pray for me,
welladay, etc.
That God may strengthen me
against that hour,
Then straightway he did call
To the Guard under the wall,
And did intreat them all
for him to pray.
For to morrow is the day,
welladay, etc.
That I a debt must pay,
which I do owe,
It is my life I mean,
Which I must pay the Queen,
Even so hath justice given,
that I must dye.
In the morning was he brought,
welladay, etc.
Where the Scaffold was set up,
within the Tower,
Many Lords were present then,
With other Gentlemen,
Which were appointed then,
to see him dye.
You Noble Lords, quoth he,
welladay, etc.
That must the witness,
of this my dream,
Know I ne'r lov'd Papistry,
But still doth it defie,
And thus doth Essex dye,
here in this place.
I have a sinner been,
welladay, etc.
Yet never wrong'd my Queen,
in all my life,
My God I did offend,
Which grieves me at my end,
May all the rest amend,
I do them forgive.
To the state I ne'r meant ill,
welladay, etc.
Neither wisht the commons ill,
in all my life:
But lov'd with all my heart,
And always took their part,
Whereas there were desert,
in every place.
Then mildly did he pray,
mournfully, etc.
He might the favour have,
private to pray,
He then pray'd heartily,
And with great fervency,
To God that sits on high,
for to receive him.
And then he pray'd again,
mournfully, etc.
God to preserve his Queen,
from all her foes.
And send her long to reign,
True Justice to remain,
And not to let proud Spain,
once to offend her,
His Gown be stript off then
welladay, etc.
And put off his Hat and Band,
and hung them by,
Praying still continually,
To God that sits on high,
That he might patiently
there suffer death.
My Heads-man that must be,
then said he chearfully,
Let him come here to me,
that I may see him,
Who kneeled to him then,
Art thou quoth he the Man,
Who art appointed now,
my life to free.
Yes my Lord he did say,
we[l]laday, etc.
Forgive me I you pray,
for this your death:
I here do thee forgive,
And may true justice live,
No foul crimes to forgive,
within this place.
Th[en] he kneeled down again,
welladay, etc.
And was required by some,
there standing by,
To forgive his Enemies,
Before Death clos'd his eyes,
Which he did in hearty wise,
thanking him for it.
That they would remember him,
welladay, etc.
That he would forgive all them,
that hath him wrong'd,
Now my Lords I take my leave,
Sweet Christ my Soul receive,
Now when you will prepare,
I am ready.
He laid his head on the block,
we[l]laday, etc.
But [hi]s Doublet let the stroke,
s[om]e there did say,
What must be done quoth he,
Sha[ll] be done presently,
There [h]is Doublet off put he,
a[nd] lay'd down again.
Th[en] the Headsman did his part,
cruelly, cruelly,
He was not seen to start
for all the blows,
His soul is now at rest,
In Heaven among the blest,
W[he]re God send us to rest
w[he]n it shall please him,

//

ALL you that cry O hone, Ohone,
come now & sing O hone with me
For why our Jewel is from us gone,
the valiant Knight of Chivalry:
Of rich and poor belov'd was he,
in time an honourable Knight;
When by our Laws condemn'd to dye,
he lately took his last good night.
Count him not like to Champion,
those Traytorous men of Babington,
Nor like the Earl of Westmerland,
by whom a number were undone:
He never yet hurt Mothers Son,
his quarrel still maintains the right,
Which makes the tears my face down run
when I think on his last good night.
The Portugals can witness be,
his Dagger at Lisborn Gate he flung,
And like a Knight of Chivalry,
his Chain upon the gate he hung;
I would to God that he would come
to fetch them back in order right
Which thing was by his honour done,
yet lately took his last good night.
The Frenchmen they can testifie,
the town of Gourney he took in,
And marcht to Rome immediately,
not caring for his foes a pin,
With Bullets then he pierc'd their skin
and made them flye from his sight:
He there that time did credit win,
and now hath tane his last good night
And stately Cales can witness be,
even by his Proclamation right,
He did command them all straightly,
to have a care of Infants lives:
And that none should hurt man or wife,
which was against their right,
Therefore they pray'd for his long life,
which lately took his last good night.
Would God he ne'r had Ireland known,
nor set one foot on Flanders ground
Then might we well injoy'd our own,
where now our Jewel will not be found
Which makes our foes still abound,
trickling with salt tears in our sight,
To hear his name in our ears to sound,
Lord Deverux took his last good night.
Ashwednesday that dismal day,
when he came forth of his chamber door,
Upon a Scaffold there he saw,
his heads-man standing him before:
His Nobles all they did deplore,
sheding salt tears in his sight,
He said farewel to rich and poor,
at his good morrow and goodnight:
My Lords said he you stand but by,
to see performance of the Law,
It is I that have deserv'd to dye.
and yield my self unto the blow,
I have deserv'd to dye I know,
but ne'r against my Countries right,
Nor to my Queen was ever foe,
upon my death at my good night.
Farewel Elizabeth my gracious Queen,
God bless thee with thy council all,
Farewel my Knights of Chivalry,
farewel my Souldiers stout and tall.
Farewel the Commons great and small,
into the hands of men I light,
My life shall make amends for all,
for Essex bids the world good night.
Farewel dear wife and children three,
farewel my kind and tender son,
Comfort your selves mourn not for me,
although your fall be now begun,
My time is come my glass is run,
comfort your self in former light,
Seeing by my fall you are undone,
your father bids the world good night.
Derick thou know'st at Cales I sav'd
thy life lost for a Rape there done,
As thou thy self can'st testifie,
thine own hand three and twenty hung,
But now thou seest my self is come
by chance into thy hands I light,
Strike out thy blow that I may know,
thou Essex lov'd at his good night.
When England counted me a Papist,
the work of Papists I defie,
I ne'r worshipt saint nor Angel in heaven
nor the Virgin Mary I.
But to Christ which for my sins did dye,
trickling with Salt tears in his sight
Spreading my arms to God on high,
Lord Jesus receive my soul this night

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

Treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tower of London

Printing Location

Printed for W. Thackeray and T. Passinger
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/847 <![CDATA[A lamentable new Ballad upon the Earle of Essex his death. ]]> 2020-01-08T14:38:36+11:00

Title

A lamentable new Ballad upon the Earle of Essex his death.

Subtitle

To the tune of. The Kings last good-night.
A lamentable Ditty composed upon the death of Robert Lo[rd Devereux] late Earle of Essex, who was beheaded in the Tower of London, o[n Ashwenesday] in the morning, 1600.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballds 1.106-107; EBBA 20044 // EBBA 32617

Set to tune of...

The Kings last good-night. // Welladay 

Transcription

ALL you that cry, O hone O hone
come now & sing O Lord with me
For why our Jewell is from us gone,
the valiant Knight of Chivalry:
Of rich and poore beloved was he,
in time an honourable Knight:
When by our Lawes condemnd was he
and lately tooke his last good-night.

Count him not like to Campion,
(these traiterous men) or Babington
Nor like the Earle of Westmerland,
by whom a number were undone:
He never yet hurt mothers son,
his quarell stil mantaind the right,
which maks the teares my cheks down run
when I think on his last goodnight.

The Portingals can witnesse be,
his Dagger at Lisbone gate he flung
And like a Knight of Chivalry,
his Chaine upon the same he hung,
would God that he would thither come
to fetch them both in order right,
Which thing was by his honour done,
yet lately tooke his last good-night.

The Frenchmen they can testifie,
the Towne of Gourney he tooke in,
And marchd to Rone immediately,
not caring for his foes a pin:
with bullets then he piercd their skin
and made them flee farre from his sight
He at that time did credit win,
and now hath tane his last good-night.

And stately Cales can witnesse well,
even by his Proclamation right:
He did command them all straitly,
to have a care of Infants lives:
That none should ravish maid nor wife
which was against their order right.
Therefore they prayd for his long life
which latly tooke his last good-night.

Would God he had nere Ireland known
nor set his feet on Flanders ground:
Then might we well enjoy our owne,
where now our jewel will not be found
Which makes our woes stil to abound
trickling with salt teares in our sight
to heare his name in our eares to sound
Lord Devereux took his last good-night

Ashwednesday that dismall day,
when he came forth of his chamber doore
Upon a Scaffold there he saw,
his headsman standing him before,
The Nobles all they did deplore.
shedding their salt teares in his sight
He said farewell to rich and poore.
at his good-morrow and good-night.

My Lords, quoth he, you stand but by,
to see performance of the Law?
Its I that have deservd to dye,
and yeeld my life unto the blow,
I have deservd to dye, I know,
but nere against my Countries right,
Nor to my Queene was never foe,
upon my death at my good-night.

farewel Elizabeth my gracious Queen
God blesse thee & thy Councell all
Farewell you Knights of Chivalry,
farewell my Souldiers stout and tall,
Farewell the Commons great & small,
into the hands of men I light.
My life shall make amends for all,
for Essex bids the world good-night.

Farewell deare wife & children three,
farewell my yong and tender son,
Comfort your selves mourne not for me,
although you fall be now begun,
My time is come, the glasse [i]s run,
comfort your selves, in former light
Seeing by my fall you are undone,
your father bids the world good-night

Dericke, thou knowest, at Cales I savd
thy life, lost for a Rape there done,
Which thou thy selfe canst testifie,
thine owne hand three & twenty hung,
But now thou seest my time is come,
by chance into thy hands I light,
Strike out the blow, that I may know,
thou Essex lovd at his good-night.

When England counted me a Papist,
the workes of Papists I defie,
I nere worshipt Saint, nor Angel in heaven,
nor to the Virgin Mary I,
But to Christ, which for my sins did die
trickling with sad teares in his sight,
Spreding my armes to God on high,
Lord Jesus receive my soule this night

//

[SWeet] Englands pride is gon,
welladay, welladay,
[Whi]ch makes her sigh and grone
evermore still:
[He] did her fame advance,
[In] Ireland, Spaine, and France,
[And] now by [?] all chance,
is from us tane.

[He] was a vertuous Peere,
welladay, welladay,
[And] was esteemed deare,
evermore still:
[He] alwayes helpt the poore,
which makes them sigh ful sore
His death they doe deplore,
in every place.

[Br]ave honour gracd him still,
gallantly, gallantly,
[He] nere did deed of ill,
well it is knowne,
[But] Envy that foule fiend,
[Wh]ose malice nere had end,
[Hath br]ought true vertues friend
[unto t]his thrall.

[At Tilt] he did surpasse,
gallantly, gallantly
[All men] that is and was
[eve]rmore still:
[One day as it] was seene,
[In honour of]our Queene
[Such deeds] nere bin seene,
[as he did do,]
[Abroad and eke a]t home,
[gallantly, galla]ntly,
[For valour there was] none,
[like him before,]
[But Ireland France and Spain,]
[That feared great Essexs na]me,

And England lovd the same,
in every place.

But all would not prevaile
welladay, welladay,
His deeds did not availe,
more was the pitty,
He was condemd to die,
for treason certainly,
But God that sits on high,
knoweth all things.

That Sunday in the morne,
welladay, welladay,
That he to the Citie came,
with all his troupe:
That first began the strife,
and causd him lose his life
And others did the like,
as well as hee

Yet her Princely Majesty,
graciously, graciously,
Hath pardon given free,
to many of them:
She hath releasd them quite
and given them their right,
They may pray day and night,
God to defend her.

Shrove tusday in the night,
welladay, welladay,
With a heavy hearted sprite,
as it is said:
The Lieutenant of the Tower,
who kept him in his power,
At ten a clocke that houre,
to him did come.

And said unto him there
mournfully, mournfully,
My Lord you must prepare,
to dye to morrow.
Gods will be done quoth he,
yet shall you strangely see
God strong in me to be,
though I am weake.

I pray you pray for me,
welladay, welladay:
That God may strengthen me,
against that houre:
Then straight way he did call
to the Guard under the wall,
And did intreat them all
for him to pray.

For to morrow is the day,
welladay, welladay,
That I the debt must pay,
which I doe owe:
It [is] my life I mean:
[Which I must pay the Queen]

Even so hath Justice given,
that I must dye.

In the morning was he brought
welladay, welladay,
Where a Scaffold was set up
within the Tower:
Many Lords were present then
with other Gentlemen,
Which were appointed then
to see him die.

You Noble Lords, quoth he,
welladay, welladay,
That must the witnesse be,
of this my death:
Know I never lovd Papistry,
but still did it defie,
And Essex thus did dye,
here in this place.

I have a sinner been,
welladay, welladay,
Yet never wrongd my Queene,
in all my life:
My God, I did offend,
which grives me at my end,
May all the rest amend,
I doe forgive them.

To the State I nere ment ill,
welladay, welladay,
Neither wisht the Commons il,
in all my life:
But lovd all with my heart,
and alwayes tooke their part,
Whereas there was desart,
in any place.

Then mildly did he crave,
mournfully, mournfully,
He might that fovour have,
private to pray:
He then praid heartily,
and with great ferver
To god that sits on hi[e]
for to receive him.

And then he praid ag[ain]
mournfully, mou[rnfully]
God to preserve [his Queen,]
from all her fo[es.]
And send her lo[ng to reign,]
true Justice [remain]
And not to le[t proud Spain]
once to of[fend her,]
His Gown [he stript off then]
wellada[y, welladay,]
And put [off his Hat and Band,]
and [hung them by,]
Pray[ing still continually,
[To God that sits on high,]

[Dev]ereux,
[Wed]nesday [Fragment from the far left of 1.106]

[That he m]ight patiently,
[then suf]fer death.

[My Heads-m]an that must be,
[then sa]id he cheerfully,
[Let him] come here to me,
[that I] may him see,
[Who kn]eeled to him then,
[Art th]ou (quoth he) the man,
[Who art] appointed now,
[my lif]e to free.

[Yes my] Lord, did he say,
[wella]day, welladay,
[Forgiv]e me, I you pray,
[for this i]s your death,
[I here d]oe thee forgive,
[And m]ay true Justice live,
[No foul]e crime to forgive,
[With]in their place.

[Then h]e kneeld downe againe,
[mour]nfully, mournfully,
[And wa]s required by some,
[there] standing by:
[To forg]ive his enemies,
[Before] death close his eyes,
[Which he] did in hearty wise,
[thankin]g them for it.

[That they] would remember him
[welladay] welladay,
[That he m]ight forgive them all,
[that hath] him wrongd,
[Now my L]ords I take my leave
[Sweet Chr]ist my soule receive,
[Now when] you will prepare,
[I am] ready.

[He laid his he]ad on the blocke,
[welladay,] welladay,
[But his Dou]blet let the stroke,
[But he ther]e did say:
[What must] be done (quoth he)
[Shall be d]one presently,
[There his d]oublet off put he,
[and layd d]owne againe.

[Then the H]eadsman did his part.
[cruelly,]cruelly,
[He was ne]ver seene to start,
[for all t]he blowes:
[His soul now] it is at rest,
[In heav]en amongst the blest,
[Where G]od send us to rest,
[when it] shall please him.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tower of London

Printing Location

London for C. W.

Notes

damaged, lots of missing words. Think it begins on right hand side, not sure if it's two ballads or one weirdly printed
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/848 <![CDATA[A letter to Rome, to declare to ye Pope, Iohn Felton his freend is hangd in a rope: ]]> 2021-06-12T11:22:08+10:00

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.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/849 <![CDATA[A looking-glass for traytors]]> 2020-01-08T16:02:52+11:00

Title

A looking-glass for traytors

Subtitle

or, High treason rewarded being a full account of the examination of the second person that was executed in Novem. 1678 by name, Edward Coleman, Esq, who was found guilty of high treason, at the Kings-Bench-Bar at VVestminter, the 27th of Nov. 1678 for plotting and contriving the death of our soveraign Lord the King, and endeavouring to change the government of the nation and utterly to extirpate the protestant religion, for which he was sentenced to be drawn, hang'd and quartered being accordingly executed the 3d. day of this instant Decemb. at Tyburn, tune of, Aim not too high, or, Fortune my foe.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Bodleian Library, University of Oxford, Shelmark: Wood E 25. fol. (33); Broadside Ballads Online Bod881

Set to tune of...

Transcription

TIME and DEATH'S Advise to all VVicked Livers.
Beware in TIME, too High don't Climb,
for Fear you catch a Fall,
For if you do, 'tis even True,
Squire Katch will Pay you all.

Let all bold Traytors here come take a view,
How ancient Tiburn doth receive its due:
There dark designs, and hidden Treachery,
Will bring them all unto the tripple Tree.

Here Coleman, their Ring leader of great fame,
Hath brought himself unto his end with shame:
By striving to be great before his time,
He became guilty of a Horrid Crime.

Ambition is a bait the Devil lays,
To catch such haughty Spirits now adays:
And when that he hath cauht them in the Trap,
He gives them o're to ruine and mishap.

Too many are concerned in this thing,
Against Religion, and our gracious King:
But I shall now, the world to satisfie,
Tell how this grand offender came to dye.

The Prisoner being brought to VVestminster,
And there in Court, Indicted at the Bar:
His Crimes were all laid open unto view,
As horrid things, as ever Christian knew.

Now that he did contrive a fearful thing,
For to destroy our Soveraign Lord the King:
To change the fundamental Laws o'th Land,
As by the Sequel you shall understand.

To bring in Popery with all his might,
And true Religion for to banish quite:
With fire and sword, for to destroy and burn,
True Protestants, or force them for to turn.

The Evidence against him did appear,
And prov'd the accusation to be clear:
His [???} evasions could not satisfie,
The truth was as apparent as the sky.

The Tryal lasted for eight hours at least,
Where multitudes of people throng'd and prest:
Before my Lord Chief Justice he was try'd,
And many other Learned men beside.

At length the Jury in their verdict brought,
And in the Court declared as they ought:
The Prisoner of High Treason guilty was,
But being night, no sentence then did pass.

Next morning he was brought unto the bar,
Where Sentence did proceed on him so far:
That he should draw, & Hang'd, & quartered be,
For this his Treason, and his Treachery.

This was his fact and his sad fatal doom,
He gain'd by being an Agent for Rome:
I wish that all their factors which they send,
May come like him, to an untimely end.

For why they are of a malicious mind,
And unto blood and cruelty inclin'd:
They strive to bring to ruine a whole Land,
And make those fall, whom God ordains to stand.

But yet the Lord can frustrate their intent,
Although they daily are on mischief bent;
In his good time he will their Plots disclose,
That Justice may take place on such as those.

If that we serve our Maker as we ought,
He their contrivances will bring to naught:
That we may see the sad and dismal fall,
Of such as would bring ruine to us all.

But now is come his Execution day,
Where people flockt to hear what he would say:
Where for his Love and Favour to the Pope,
Iack Katch did fit him with a Hempon Rope.

His Quarters on the Gates they do expose,
To be a Terrour to the Kingdoms Foes:
That Traitours may example take thereby,
Least that they come to endless misery.

Then let all Loyal subjects have a care,
They be no drawn into the Popish snare,
And so God bless our King and Parliament,
And grant that of our sins we may repent.

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

London, printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and I. Clarke

Tune Data

Fortune my Foe, is also known as Aim not too high

Notes

Wikipedia:  Edward Colman or Coleman (17 May 1636-1678) was an English Catholic courtier under Charles II of England. He was hanged, drawn and quartered on a treason charge, having been implicated by Titus Oates in his false accusations concerning a Popish Plot. He is a Catholic martyr, beatified by Pope Pius XI in 1929.

There was no proof of connivance with a plot for assassination or rebellion except the testimony of Oates and Bedloe. The jury found Coleman guilty. Scroggs replied to his solemn declarations of innocence,'Mr. Coleman, your own papers are enough to condemn you.' Next morning sentence of death and confiscation of property was pronounced, and on Tuesday, 3 December, he was executed, avowing his faith and declaring his innocence.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/850 <![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. ]]> 2020-01-08T14:39:55+11:00

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.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/851 <![CDATA[A most ioyfull Songe, made in the behalfe of all her Maiesties faithfull and louing Subiects: ]]> 2020-01-08T14:40:10+11:00

Title

A most ioyfull Songe, made in the behalfe of all her Maiesties faithfull and louing Subiects:

Subtitle

of the great ioy, which was made in London. at the taking of the late trayterous Conspirators, which sought oportunity to kyll her Maiesty, to spoyle the Cittie, and by forraigne inuasion to ouerrun the Realme: for the which haynous Treasons, fourteen of them haue suffred death on the 20. &, 21. of Sept. Also, a detestation against those Conspira|tors, and all their Confederates, giuing God the prayse for the safe preseruation of her maiesty, and their subuersion. Anno. Domini. 1586.

Synopsis

This ballad only reports the taking of the prisoners, and is printed a month before the execution.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Society of Antiquaries of London - Broadsides, Shelmark Cab Lib g, no. 83; EBBA 36315

Set to tune of...

O man in desperation

Transcription

A most ioyfull Songe, made in the behalfe of all her Maiesties faithfull and louing Subiects: of the great ioy, which was made in London. at the taking of the late trayterous Conspirators, which sought oportunity to kyll her Maiesty, to spoyle the Cittie, and by forraigne inuasion to ouerrun the Realme: for the which haynous Treasons, fourteen of them haue suffred death on the 20. &, 21. of Sept. Also, a detestation against those Conspira|tors, and all their Confederates, giuing God the prayse for the safe preseruation of her maiesty, and their subuersion. Anno. Domini. 1586.

To the tune of: O man in desperation.

OH Englishmen with Romish harts, what Deuil doth bewitch you,
To seke the spoyle of Prince and Realme, like Traytors most vntrue.
Why is your duetie so forgot, vnto your Royall Qu_ene,
That you your faith and promise breake, O viperous broode vncl_ene.

Blessed be God who knew your thought, and brought your treason out:
And your destruction now hath wrought that made vs so in doubt.
For if you might haue had your willes to make your bloudie day,
Many a widowe and fatherlesse childe, had then cryed wellaway.

Many a Citie had bene sackt, whose houses had bene firde.
Yea, many a Peere had lost his life, these fruits you all desirde,
But now fourteene of you haue felt, that death you haue deserued,
And God (in mercie) from your hands, our prince and vs preserued.

And would you seeke your Countries spoyle, your Mother and your Nurse,
That fostred you and brought you vp, what treason may be wurse?
Why is your false and poysoned harts, surprised with such hate,
That you must nedes by forraigne power, suppresse your happy state.

Why doo you beare such foolish loue vnto the Ragges of Rome,
That you would seke swete Englands spoyle, and Princes deadly doome,
Will nothing serue your deuillish turne in this your deadly strife,
But euen the blood of your good Quene, and her to reaue of life.

Doo you not know there is a God, that guides her night and day,
Who doth reueale her foes attempts, and brings them to decay,
O wicked men with Tygers harts, nay Monsters I should say,
That sekes to spoyle so good a Quene, as none the like this day.

Her tender loue, procures your hate, her mercie makes you bolde,
Her gentle sufferaunce of your pride, presumptuous vncontrolde,
Doth make you to forget your God, your selues and dueties all,
Whereby you bend your busie braines to mischiefe and to thrall.

Know you not who her highnes is? King Henries daughter dere,
The mightiest Monarche in his dayes, or hath bene many a yere:
She is our Prince and soueraigne Quene, annointed by Gods grace,
To set forth his most sacred word, his enimies to deface.

Haue you not holy scripures read, how byrds with fluttering winges,
A Traytours thought they will betray against annoynted Kinges,
God will no secret treason hide, against a wicked Prince,
Much more, for safety of the good, their foes he will conuince.

Therefore you cruell cankred crue, why seke you mischiefe still,
For to attempt with violent handes, Gods chosen for to kill.
How dare you once in hollow hart, thinke ill of such a Quene,
Whom God himselfe doth fauour so, as like was neuer sene.

Haue you such wicked hatefull hartes, in thirsting after blood,
That with false Iudas you can beare, two faces in one hoode?
Too often hath her Maiesty behelde without mistrust,
The outwarde smiles of Crokadiles, whose harts were most vniust.

O liuing Lord who would suppose that vnder veluets fine,
Such cankred poyson should be hid, as hath bene found this time.
Is this the precious faithfull fruite, which doth from Papists spring?
Are these the workes whereby they thinke Gods Kingdome for to win?

Is not their gredie thirsting throates yet satisfied with blood?
When as it streamde downe Paris streets, much like to Nylus flood.
Or are they not yet dronke enough, in quaffing bloody bowles,
But looke they for a second draught among vs English soules.

O England, England yet reioice, thy God beholdeth all,
And he hath giuen for euermore thy foes a shamefull fall.
By him all Kinges and Princes raigne, he giues them life and breath,
He hath set vp and will maintaine our Queene Elizabeth.

The secret drift and ill intent, of her late hatefull foes,
Vnto all faithfull Subiects ioyes, the Lord did well disclose.
Yea many Traytors false of faith, through his most mighty power,
Are taken in most happy time, and sent vnto the Towre.

Which happy sight for all to see, did glad eche Subiect true,
And many thousands ranne apace, those Caytiues vile to viewe.
Whom when the people did espie, they cryed lowde and shryll,
There goe the Traytors false of faith, which sought our Queene to kill.

There goe the wretched wicked ones, her Citie meant to spoyle,
And murther all her Citizens, but now they haue the foyle.
There goe the enimies of the Realme, did thinke to ouerrunne
All England: to let in the Pope, but now Gods will is doone.

God sent them now their due deserts, as they in hart conspyrde,
To take away our gracious Queene, and Citie to haue fyrde.
God graunt we neuer liue to see, that dismall day to haue,
Who blesse our noble Qu_ene and Realme, and eke her Citie saue.

And thus the people still did cry, both men and women all,
And children yong did shout alowde, and Traytors Traytors call.
Yea thousands trudging to and fro, to meete them still did runne,
And some stoode fasting all the day, till that day light was doone.

To see these Traytors taken so, their harts for ioy did spring,
And to declare this perfect ioy, some ranne the Belles to ring.
The Belles I say did brauely ring, that day and all the night,
And throughout stately London streetes reioyced euery wight.

And when the day was past and gone, and that the night drewe neere,
The worthy Citizens many a one, prepared their good cheare.
And Bondfyres did they merely make, through all the streetes that time,
And in the streetes their Tables stoode, prepared braue and fine.

They came together (gladly all, and there did mery make,
And gaue God thankes with cheerefull hates, for Queene Elizabeths sake.
In solempne Psalmes they sung full sweete, the prayse of God on hie,
Who now and euer keepes our Queene from Traytors tyranny.

But when our noble gratious Queene, did vnderstand this thing,
She writ a letter presently, and seald it [...]th her Ring.
A Letter such of royall loue, vnto her Subiectes eares,
That mooued them from watry eyes, to shed forth ioyfull teares.

O noble Queene without compare, our harts doth bleed for woe,
To thinke that Englishmen should seeke, thy life to ouerthroe.
But here we humbly do protest, oh gracious Queene to thee,
That Londoners will be loyall still, whilst life in them shall be.

And all that would not gladly so, spend forth their dearest bloode,
God giue to them a shamefull ende, and neuer other good.
And Lord with hart to thee we pray, preserue our noble Queene,
And still confound her hatefull foes, as they haue alwayes beene.

FINIS.


T. D.

Composer of Ballad

T.D. Thomas Deloney

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln's Inn Field

Printing Location

London, by Richard Iones

Notes

Wikipedia: John Ballard was arrested on 4 August 1586, and presumably under torture he confessed and implicated Babington. Although Babington was able to receive the forged letter with the postcript, he was not able to reply with the names of the conspirators, as he was arrested while seeking a licence to travel in order to see King Philip II of Spain, with the purpose of organising a foreign expedition as well as ensuring his own safety.

The identities of the six conspirators were nevertheless discovered, and they were taken prisoner by 15 August 1586. Mary's two secretaries, Claude de la Boisseliere Nau (d. 1605) and Gilbert Curle (d. 1609), were likewise taken into custody and interrogated. The conspirators were sentenced to death for treason and conspiracy against the crown, and were sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. This first group included Babington, Ballard, Chidiock Tichborne, Sir Thomas Salisbury, Robert Barnewell, John Savage and Henry Donn. A further group of seven men, Edward Habington, Charles Tilney, Edward Jones, John Charnock, John Travers, Jerome Bellamy, and Robert Gage, were tried and convicted shortly afterward. Ballard and Babington were executed on September 20 along with the other men who had been tried with them.

Such was the horror of their execution that Queen Elizabeth ordered the second group to be allowed to hang until dead before being disembowelled. Queen Mary herself went to trial at Fotheringhay Castle in Northamptonshire and denied her part in the plot, but her correspondence was the evidence; therefore, Mary was sentenced to death. Elizabeth signed her cousin's death warrant, and on 8 February 1587, in front of 300 witnesses, Mary, Queen of Scots, was executed by beheading.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/852 <![CDATA[A Mournful poem on the death of John Ormsby and Matthew Cushing]]> 2020-01-10T14:23:56+11:00

Title

A Mournful poem on the death of John Ormsby and Matthew Cushing

Subtitle

who were appointed to be executed on Boston Neck, the 17th of October, 1734.

Image / Audio Credit

Pamphlet location: AAS Record Number: 0F2F82324DC36830, Record Number: w026284
Recorded in Early American Imprints, Series 1, no. 40054 (filmed)

Transcription

You Sinners all, both young and old
attend to what I write,
And hy to Heart while you have Time,
this sad and doleful Sight.
Behold, I say, two Sinful Men,
who for their wicked Crimes,
Are hast'ning to the Gallows Tree
to Die before their Times,
Who being wicked overmuch,
can't live not half their Days,
This is the Portion of all such
as follow sinful Ways.
Behold poor Ormsby now in Chains;
with sad, and heavy Heart,
Approaching to the Place where he
will have his Just Desert.
No hope of Favour can he have,
from any human Hand,
The Blood which he has spilt must be
purged from off the Land.
Yet if he in Sincerity
to God his Pray'r does make,
He may find Mercy at his Hand,
for Jesus Christ his sake.
And we the Pleasure have to see
him mourning for his Sin.
Lamenting all the crooked Ways
that he has walked in.
He does lament his Drunkenness,
and every other Sin,
And keeping evil Comopany,
which has his ruin been.
His hasty Temper he bewails,
and cruel Passion,
In which he did the Fact that proves
his own Destruction.
Behold poor Cushing coming next,
just in his youthful Prime,
Whose Life is forfeited also,
by his most heinous Crime.
And tho' his Crime is short of that
for which Ormsby must die,
Yet by the Law 'tis Death for those
guilty of Burglary.
Oh! that all Thieves would Warning take,
by his most tragick End,
And would now without more Delay
their Lives and Actions mend.
For what great Profit does he gain
who Robs without Controul,
And wallows for a while in Wealth,
yet loses his own Soul?
He thought (no doubt) the darksom Night
would have conceal'd his Crime.
But it was brought to open Light
within a little Time.
By which we all may plainly see
there is no Place upon
This spacious Earth where Sinners may
hide their Transgression.
Oh! may the Fate of this young Man
scarce turn'd of Twenty Three,
A Warning prove to all our Youth,
of high and low Degree.
And let this Warning loud and shrill
be heard by ev'ry one,
O do no more such Wickedness
as has of late been done.
Lament and wail his woful Caase,
and by him Warning take;
A Sight I think enough to make
a Heart of Stone to ake.

Epitaph upon John Ormsby.
Here lies (hard by an ignominious Tree)
The Body of unhappy John Ormsby;
Who dy'd for murd'ring of poor Thomas Bell,
A Pris'ner with him in the common Goal.
Somme sudden Frenzy surely seiz'd they Brain,
Or this poor harmless Man had ne're been slain.
Madness indeed, thus to assault a Friend,
Who ne're in all his Life did thee offend;
And leave him helpless welt'ring in his Gore,
Almost depriv'd of Life upon the Floor:
And not content with this most horrid Deed,
Thou didst assault another Man with Speed,
And hadst most surely kill'd him on the Spot,
With that uncommon Weapon, a Quart Pot,
(Which had dispatch'd poor Bell but just before,
Who then lay bleeding on the Prison Floor)
Had not the Keeper come i'th'Nick of Time,
And sav'd thee from a second bloody Crime.

On Matthew Cushing
Here lies the Body of young Matthew Cushing,
Whose Crimes cannot be mention'd without blushing:
He by the Province Law was doom'd to die,
For the detested Crime of Burglary.
He broke open the House of Joseph Cook,
A Shoe-Maker in Town, and from him took
Some wearing CLoaths, and two Gowns from his Wife,
For which alas! he pays them with his Life.
Oh! may their Deaths a Warning be to all,
Inclin'd to Theft or Murder, great and small.

Good People all I you beseech
To buy the Verse as well as SPEECH.

Sold at the Heart and Crown in Boston.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

burglary, murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Boston Neck

Printing Location

[Boston] Sold [by Thomas Fleet] at the Heart and Crown in Boston., [1734]
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/853 <![CDATA[A new Ballad intituled, the stout Cripple of Cornwall]]> 2021-02-15T13:13:00+11:00

Title

A new Ballad intituled, the stout Cripple of Cornwall

Subtitle

wherein is shewed his dissolute life and deserved death. To the tune of, the blind Begger .

Synopsis

An amputee ('he had never a legge to the knee')begs on the highway in daylight hours, but at night, disguises himself with stilts to rob travellers. Although his attempt to rob the Lord Courtney is botched, eventually he is caught and all are amazed.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Pepys Ballads 1.136; EBBA 20003; (see also Roxburghe 1.389 EBBA ID: 30262; Roxburghe 1.446, EBBA 30300; Roxburghe 3.616-617, EBBA 31316; Euing 1.241, EBBA 31790 ; Euing 1.242, EBBA 31791).

Set to tune of...

The blind beggar

Transcription

O F a stout Cripple that kept the high way,
and beg'd for his living all time of the day,
A story Ile tell you that pleasant shall be,
the Cripple of Cornwall sir-named was he.
He crept on his hands and his knees up and down,
in a torne Jacket and ragged patcht Gowne:
For he had never a legge to the knee,
the Cripple of Cornwall sir [-] named was hee.
He was of stomacke couragious and stout,
for he had no cause to complaine of the Gout:
To goe upon stilts most cunning was hee,
with a staffe on his necke gallant and free.
Yea, no good fellowship would he forsake,
were it in secret a purse for to take:
His helpe was as good as any might be,
the Cripple of Cornwall sir-named was he.
When he upon any such service did goe,
the craftie young Cripple provided it so:
His tooles he kept close in an old hollow Tree,
that stood from the Citie a mile two or three.
Thus all the day long he begd for reliefe,
and late in the night he plaid the false Theefe:
And seven yeares together this custome kept he,
and no man knew him such a person to be.
There were few Grasiers went on the way,
but unto the Cripple for passage did pay,
And every brave Merchant that he did descry,
he emptied their purses ere they passed by.
The gallant Lord Courtney both valiant and bold,
rode forth with great plentie of silver and Gold:
At Exeter there a purchase to pay.
but that the false Cripple his journey did stay.
For why the false Cripple heard tydings of late,
as he lay for almes at this Noblemans gate:
What day and what houre his journey should be,
this is (quoth the Cripple) a bootie for me.
Then to his Companions the matter he moned,
which their like actions beforetime had proned:
They make themselves ready & deeply they sweare
this mony's their owne before they come there.
Upon his two stilts the Cripple doth mount,
to have his best share he makes his account:
All clothed in Canvas downe to the ground,
he takes up his standing his mates with him round
Then comes the L.Courtney with halfe a scoremen
that little suspecting these theeves in their den:
And they perceiving them come to their hand,
in a darke evening they bid him to stand.
Deliver thy purse quoth the Cripple with speed,
for we be good fellowes and thereof have need:
Not so, quoth Lord Courtney , but this I tell thee,
win it, and weare it, else get none of me.
With that the Lord Courtney stood in his defence,
and so did his servants, but ere they went [hence]
Two of the true men were slaine in the fight,
and foure of the theeves were put to their flight
And while for their safegard they ran thus away,
the jolly bold Cripple did hold the rest play:
And with his pike-staffe he wounded them so,
as they were unable to runne or to goe.
With fight the L. Courtney was driven out of breath
and most of his servants wounded to death:
Then came other horsemen riding so fast,
the Cripple was forced to flie at the last,
And over a River that ran there beside,
which was very deepe and eighteene foot wide:
With his long staffe and his stilts leaped hee,
and shifted himselfe in an old hollow Tree.
Then thorow the Country was hue and cry made,
to have these theeves apprehended and stayde:
The Cripple he creeps on his hands and his knees,
and on the high way great posting he sees.
And as they came riding he begging doth say,
O give me one penny, good Master, I pray:
And thus unto Exeter creepes he along,
no man suspecting that he had done wrong.
Anon the Lord Courtney he spyde in the street
he comes unto him and kisses his feet:
Saying, God save your honor & keepe you from il,
and from the hands of your enemies still.
Amen qouth L. Courtney , and therewith flung downe
unto the poore Cripple an English Crowne:
Away went the Cripple and thus he did thinke,
500 . pounds more would make me to drinke.
In vaine that hue and cry it was made,
they found none of them though the Countrey was layd:
But this grieved the Cripple both night and day,
that he so unluckily mist of his pray.
Nine hundred pounds this Cripple had got,
by begging and robbing so good was his lot,
A thousand pound he would make it he said,
and then hee would quite give over his trade.
But as he strived his minde to fulfill,
in following his actions so lewd and so ill,
At last he was taken the law to suffice,
condemned and hanged at Exeter [sise].
Which made all men amazed to see,
that such an impotent person as hee,
Should venture himselfe to such actions as they,
to rob in such sort upon the high way.


F I N I S.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

robbery; theft

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Exeter

Printing Location

London, Printed for J .W.

URL

EEBO link to later (1750) version. Words are mostly unchanged (institutional login required). 
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/854 <![CDATA[A New made MEDLY Compos'd out of sundry SONGS, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:41:00+11:00

Title

A New made MEDLY Compos'd out of sundry SONGS,

Subtitle

For Sport and Pastime for the most ingenious Lovers of Wit and Mirth. To the Tune of State and Ambition. Licensed according to Order.

Synopsis

Many different song titles or memorable lines all rolled into one song!

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Pepys Ballads 5.411; EBBA 22333 

Set to tune of...

State and Ambition

Transcription

I.
STate and Ambition, all Joy to great Caesar, Sawney shall ne'er be my Colly my Cow;
All hail to the shades, all joy to the Bridegroom, and call upon Dobin with Hi, je, ho.
Remember ye Whigs what was formerly done, and Jenny come tye my bonny Cravat;
If I live to grow Old, for I find I go down, for I cannot come every day to Wooe.

II.
Jove in his Throne was a Fumbler, Tom Farthing, and Jockey and Jenny together did lye;
Oh Mother Roger, Boys, fill us a Bumper, for why will you dye, my poor Caelia, ah! why?
Hark! how the thundring Cannons do roar, Ladies of London, both wealthy and fair,
Charon mast hast, and Ferry me over, Lilli burlero, bellen a lah.

III.
Cloris awake, Four-pence-half-penny-farthing, give me the Lass that is true Country bred;
Like John of Gaunt, I walk in Covent-garden, I am a Maid, and a very good Maid.
Two bonny Lads was Sawney and Jockey, the Delights of the Bottle, and Charms of good Wine
Wading the Water so deep, my sweet Moggy, cold and raw, let it run in the right Line.


IV.
Old Obadiah sings Ave Maria, sing Lulla-by-Baby, with a Dildo;
The Old Woman and her Cat sate by the Fire, now this is my Love, d' y' like her ho?
Old Charon thus preach'd to his Pupil Achilles, and under this Stone here lies Gabriel John:
Happy was I at the sight of fair Phillis, what should a young Woman do with an old Man.

V.
There's an old Father Petres with his Romish Creatures. there was an old Woman sold Pudding & Pies
Cannons with Thunder shall fill them with wonder I once lov'd a Lass that had bright rowling eyes
There's my Maid Mary she do's mind her Dairy, I took to my heels, and away I did run,
And bids him prepare to be happy to morrow, alas! I don't know the right end of a Gun.

VI.
My Life and Death do's lye both in your Power, and every Man to his Mind, Shrowsbury for me;
On a Bank of a Brook as I sate fishing, shall I dye a Maid now, and ne'er Married be.
Uds bobs, Let Oliver now be forgotten, Jone is as good as my Lady in the dark:
Cuckold's are Christians, Boys, all the World over, and here's a full Bumper to Robin John Clark.

Printing Location

Printed for P. Brooksby, J, Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/855 <![CDATA[A proper new Ballad, breefely declaring the Death and Execution of I4. ]]> 2020-01-08T14:41:20+11:00

Title

A proper new Ballad, breefely declaring the Death and Execution of I4.

Subtitle

most wicked Traitors, who suffered death in Lincolnes Inne feelde neere London: the 20 and 21. of September. 1586.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

National Library of Scotland - Crawford, Shelfmark: Crawford.EB.1027; EBBA 33717

Set to tune of...

Weep, weep

Transcription

REjoyce in hart good people all,
sing praise to God on hye:
Which hath preserved us by his power,
from traitors tiranny.
Which now have had their due desarts,
in London lately seen:
And Ballard was the first that died,
for Treason to our Queene.
O praise the Lord with hart and minde,
sing praise with voices cleere:
Sith traiterous crue, have had their due,
to quaile their parteners cheere.

Next, Babington that Caitife vilde,
was hanged for his hier:
His Carkasse likewise quartered,
and Hart cast in the fier.
Was ever seene such wicked troopes,
of Traytors in this Land?
Against the pretious woord of truthe,
and their good Queene to stand?
O praise, etc.

But heer beholde the rage of Rome,
the fruits of Popish plants,
Beholde and see their wicked woorks,
which all good meaning wants.
For Savage also did receave,
like death for his desert:
Which in that wicked enterprise,
should then have doon his part.
O praise, etc.

O cursed catifes void of grace,
will nothing serve your turne,
But to beholde your Cuntries wrack,
in malice while you burne.
And Barnwell thou which went to view,
her grace in each degree:
And how her life might be dispatcht,
thy death we all did see.
O praise, etc.

Confounding shame fall to their share,
and hellish torments sting:
That to the Lords annointed shall,
devise so vile a thing.
O Techburne what bewitched thee?
to have such hate in store:
Against our good and gratious Queene,
that thou must dye therefore.
O praise, etc.

What gaine for Traitors can returne?
if they their wish did win:
Or what preferment should they get,
by this their trecherous sinne.
Though Forraine power love Treason well,
the Traitors they dispise:
And they the first that should sustaine,
the smart of their devise.
O praise, etc.

What cause had Tilney Traitor stout,
or Abbington likewise:
Against the Lords annointed thus,
such mischeef to devise.
But that the Devill inticed them,
such wicked woorks to render:
For which these seven did suffer death,
the twentith of September.
O praise, etc.

Seaven more the next day following,
were drawen from the Tower:
Which were of their confederates,
to dye that instant hower.
The first of them was Salsburie,
and next to him was Dun:
Who did complaine most earnestly,
of proud yong Babington.
O praise, etc.

Both Lords and Knights of hye renowne,
he ment for to displace:
And likewise all our Towers and Townes,
and Cities for to race.
So likewise Jones did much complaine,
of his detested pride:
And shewed how lewdly he did live,
before the time he died.
O Praise etc.

Then Charnock was the next in place,
to taste of bitter death:
And praying unto holy Saints,
he left his vitall breath.
And in like maner Trauers then,
did suffer in that place:
And fearfully he left his life,
with Crossing breast and face.
O praise, etc.

Then Gage was stripped in his shirt,
who up the Lather went:
And sought for to excuse himselfe,
of Treasons falce intent.

And Bellamie the last of all,
did suffer death that daye:
Unto which end God bring all such,
as wish our Queenes decay.
O praise, etc.

O faulce and foule disloyall men,
what person would suppose:
That Clothes of Velvet and of Silke,
should hide such mortall foes.
Or who would think such hidden hate,
in men so faire in sight:
But that the Devill can turne him selfe,
into an Angell bright.
O praise, etc.

But Soveraigne Queene have thou no care,
for God which knoweth all:
Will still maintaine thy royall state,
and give thy foes a fall.
And for thy Grace thy Subjects all,
will make their praiers still:
That never Traitor in this Land,
may have his wicked will.
O praise, etc.

Whose glorious daies in England heere,
the mighty God maintaine:
That long unto thy Subjects Joye,
thy Grace may rule and raigne.
And Lord we pray for Christes sake,
that all thy secret foes:
May come to naught which seeke thy life,
and Englands lasting woes.
O praise the Lord with hart and minde, etc.

The names of 7. Traitors
which were Executed on
Tuesday being the xx
of September
1586.

John Ballard Preest.
Anthony Babington.
John Savage.
Robert Barnwell.
Chodicus Techburne.
Charles Tilney.
Edward Abbington.

The names of the other
vij. which were Exe-
cuted on the next
day after.

Thomas Salsbury.
Henry Dun.
Edward Jhones.
John Trauers.
John Charnock.
Robert Gage.
Harman Bellamy.

Composer of Ballad

T.D. Thomas Deloney

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln's Inn Field

Printing Location

London, at the Long Shop adioyning vnto Saint Mildreds Churche in the Pultrie by Edward Allde.

Tune Data

Weep, weep (Simpson 1966, pp. 660-61).
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/856 <![CDATA[A proper newe Ballad, declaring the substaunce of all the late pretended Treasons against the Queenes Maiestie, and Estates of this Realme, by sundry Traytors: ]]> 2020-01-08T14:41:51+11:00

Title

A proper newe Ballad, declaring the substaunce of all the late pretended Treasons against the Queenes Maiestie, and Estates of this Realme, by sundry Traytors:

Subtitle

who were executed in Lincolnes-Inne fielde on the 20. and 21. daies of September. 1586.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Society of Antiquaries of London - Broadsides, Shelfmark: Cab Lib g; EBBA 36317

Set to tune of...

Wilsons new tune

Transcription

A proper newe Ballad, declaring the substaunce of all the late pretended Treasons against the Queenes Maiestie, and Estates of this Realme, by sundry Traytors: who were executed in Lincolnes-Inne fielde on the 20. and 21. daies of September. 1586.
To Wilsons new tune.

WHen first the gracious God of heauen, by meanes did bring to light:
the Treasons lately practised, by many a wicked wight.
Against their Prince whose life they sought, & many a noble Peere:
the substance of whose treasons strange, you shal most truly heare.

O Lord preserue our noble Queene, her Counsaile long maintaine:
Confound her foes and graunt her grace in health to rule and raigne.

Their Treasons once discouered, then were the Traytors sought:
some of them fled into a Wood, where after they were caught.
And being broughte vnto the Tower, for ioye the Belles did ring:
and throughout London Bonefiers made, where people Psalmes did sing

O Lord preserue our noble Queene, &c.

And set their Tables in the streetes, with meates of euery kinde:
where was preparde all signes of ioye, that could be had in minde.
And praysde the Lord most hartely, that with his mightie hand:
he had preserued our gracious Queene, and people of this Land.

O Lord preserue our noble Queene, &c.

Which thing was taken in good parte, by our renowned Queene:
who by her Letters gaue them thankes, as playnly may be seene.
Assuring them that all her care, was for their safetie still:
and that thereby she would deserue, their loue and great good will.

O Lord preserue our noble Queene, &c.

The Traytors well examined, (whom God himselfe bewrayed:)
their Treasons knowne, then were they straight to Westminster conuaied.
Whereas they all indited were, of many a vile pretence:
seauen pleaded guiltie at the Barre, before they went from thence.

The maner how they did begin, herein will playne appeare:
their purposes in each respect, you shall most truely heare.
Herein vnto you will be seene, if they had not bene foylde:
our Queene, our Realme, yea rich and, poore together had bene spoilde.

One Sauidge lurking long in Fraunce, at Rheames did there remaine:
whom Doctor Gifford did perswade, great honor hee should gaine.
If that he would goe take in hand, (these matters very straunge:)
first to depriue our gracious Queene, Religion for to chaunge.

And then for to inuade the Realme, by troupes of foraine power:
to ouerthrowe the gouernment, and kill her in her Bower.
Or forceably to dispossesse, the Queene of Englands Grace:
and to proclaime the Scottish Queene, and set her in her place.

Which matter Sauidge promised, his full performance too:
so that he might see warrant with, safe Conscience so to doo.
The Doctor vowed by his Soule, and bad him vnderstand:
it was an honourable thing, to take the same in hand.

When Sauidge heard that merites were, to him therby so rife:
he vowed for to doe the same, or else to lose his life.
And shortly into England hyed, and did imparte the same:
to Babington of Darby shire, a man sure voyd of shame.

And tolde him how that he had vowed, to doe it or to dye:
desiring him of helpe and ayde, and that immeadiatly.
A Iesuit Priest whom Ballard hight, came ouer to that end:
he came also to Babington, and dayly did attend.

Still to perswade him that he would, attempt and take in hand:
this vilde and wicked enterprise, and stoutly to it stand.
And tolde him that he should haue ayde, of sixtie thousand men:
that secretly should landed be, and tolde him how and when.

And in respect of all his paines, he truely might depende:
that it was lawefull so to doe, Renowne should be the end.
But let all Traytors nowe perceiue, what honor he hath wonne:
whose trayterous head and wicked heart, hath many a one vndone.

This proude and hautie Babington, in hope to gaine renowne:
did stirre vp many wilfull men, in many a Shire and Towne.
To ayde him in this deuilish act, and for to take in hand:
the spoyle of our renowned Prince, and people of this Land.

Who did conclude with bloodie blade, a slaughter to commit:
vpon her Counsell as they should, within Star Chamber sit.
Which is a place wheras the Lordes, and those of that degree:
yeeldes Iustice vnto euery man, that craues it on their knee.

Yea famous London they did meane, for to haue sackt beside:
both Maior and Magistrates therin, haue murdered at that tide.
Eache riche mans goodes had beene their owne, no fauour then had serued:
nought but our wealth was their desire, though wee and ours had starued.

Besides these wicked practises, they had concluded more:
the burning of the Nauie and, the cheefest Shippes in store:
With fire and sworde they vowed, to kill and to displace:
eache Lord Knight and Magistrate, true subiects to her Grace.

They had determinde to haue cloyde, and poysoned out of hand:
the cheefe and greatest Ordinaunce, that is within this Land.
And did entend by violence, on rich men for to fall:
to haue their money and their Place, and to haue spoild them al.

The Common wealth of England soone, should therby haue bene spoylde:
our goodes for which our Parents and, our selues long time haue toylde.
Had all bene taken from vs, besides what had ensued:
the substaunce proueth playnely, to soone wee all had rewed.

Those were the Treasons they conspyrde, our good Queene to displace:
to spoyle the states of all this Land, such was their want of grace:
But God that doth protect her still, offended at the same:
Euen in their young and tender yeares, did cut them of with shame.

These Traytors executed were, on Stage full strongly wrought:
euen in the place where wickedly, they had their Treasons sought.
There were they hangde and quattred, there they acknowledged why:
who like as Traytors they had liued, euen so they seemde to dye.

O wicked Impes, O Traytors vilde, that could these deedes deuise:
why did the feare of God and Prince, departe so from your eyes.
No Rebelles power can her displace, God will defend her still:
true subectes all will lose their liues, ere Traytors haue their will.

How many mischiefes are deuisde? how many wayes are wrought:
how many vilde Conspyracies against her Grace is sought.
Yet God that doth protect her still, her Grace doth well preserue:
and workes a shame vnto her foes, as they doe best deserue.

O heauenly God preserue our Queene, in plentie health and peace:
confounde her foes, maintaine her right, her ioyes O Lord increase.
Lord blesse her Counsaile euermore, and Nobles of this Land:
preserue her Subiects, and this Realme, with thy most mightie hand.

FINIS.

Composer of Ballad

Thomas Nelson

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln's Inn Field

Printing Location

London, Thomas Purfoote for Edward White

Tune Data

Wilsons new tune (Simpson 1966, p. 792)

Notes

Wikipedia: John Ballard was arrested on 4 August 1586, and presumably under torture he confessed and implicated Babington. Although Babington was able to receive the forged letter with the postcript, he was not able to reply with the names of the conspirators, as he was arrested while seeking a licence to travel in order to see King Philip II of Spain, with the purpose of organising a foreign expedition as well as ensuring his own safety. The identities of the six conspirators were nevertheless discovered, and they were taken prisoner by 15 August 1586. Mary's two secretaries, Claude de la Boisseliere Nau (d. 1605) and Gilbert Curle (d. 1609), were likewise taken into custody and interrogated.

The conspirators were sentenced to death for treason and conspiracy against the crown, and were sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. This first group included Babington, Ballard, Chidiock Tichborne, Sir Thomas Salisbury, Robert Barnewell, John Savage and Henry Donn. A further group of seven men, Edward Habington, Charles Tilney, Edward Jones, John Charnock, John Travers, Jerome Bellamy, and Robert Gage, were tried and convicted shortly afterward. Ballard and Babington were executed on September 20 along with the other men who had been tried with them. Such was the horror of their execution that Queen Elizabeth ordered the second group to be allowed to hang until dead before being disembowelled.

Queen Mary herself went to trial at Fotheringhay Castle in Northamptonshire and denied her part in the plot, but her correspondence was the evidence; therefore, Mary was sentenced to death. Elizabeth signed her cousin's death warrant, and on 8 February 1587, in front of 300 witnesses, Mary, Queen of Scots, was executed by beheading.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/857 <![CDATA[A Serious copy of Verses on the late Miss Wray.]]> 2020-01-08T14:26:28+11:00

Title

A Serious copy of Verses on the late Miss Wray.

Synopsis

James Hackman kills Martha Wray and is imprisoned in Newgate awaiting trial. Singer calls for his execution.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library - Roxburghe Shelfmark: C.20.f.9.768; EBBA 31497

Transcription

YE tender fair come hear a ditty,
Tragical my tale does run,
Or a murder mores the pity, Was at Covent Garden, done,
On a kind and pretty woman,
By a Minister were told,
For her constancy he killd her, Not to rob her of her gold.
It seems he had his education, At the University,
And first of all bore a commision, But no promotion like to be,
Four years ago the gownd assumed, Perswaded by his friends they say,
Then cast his eyes as were informed, On the beauty of Miss Wray.
To her he oft paid his addresses, But never could obtain his end,
She told the Earl, her noble keeper, Who was to him a worthy friend,
But this was nothing all he wanted, Was Miss Wray for whore or wife
But as neither could be granted, Was resolvd to have her life.
He with two loaded pistols met her, Just as she came from the play,
Rushd up and not a word did utter, With one he took her life away,
The other for himself designed, But his life is spaird you see,
Not worthy of a death so sudden, But a public sight to be.
Now in Newgate is confined, Till his trial does come on,
Its hoped to death hell be resigned, Alas! alas! unhappy man,
Who did not look a little ferther, Solid happiness to see,
But must go to do a murder,
His own murderer for to be.
See a mother none more kinder, From five children robbd of life,
The character shes left behind her, May be copyd by each wife,
Friendly courteous and oblinging, Unto all came in her way,
Is the character ye fair ones, Of the late worthy Miss Wray.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

London

Notes

Wikipedia:  James Hackman (baptized 13 December 1752, hanged 19 April 1779), briefly Rector of Wiveton in Norfolk, was the murderer who killed Martha Ray, singer and mistress of John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich.

In about 1775, while he was a serving army officer, Hackman visited Lord Sandwich's house at Hinchingbrooke and met his host's mistress Martha Ray. She was "a lady of an elegant person, great sweetness of manners, and of a remarkable judgement and execution in vocal and instrumental music" who had lived with Lord Sandwich as his wife since the age of seventeen and had given birth to nine of his children. Sandwich also had a wife, from whom he was separated, who was considered mad and who lived in an apartment at Windsor Castle. This was the same Lord Sandwich who is said to have called for a piece of beef between two pieces of bread, thus originating the word sandwich. He was a patron of the explorer Captain James Cook, who named the Sandwich Islands after him.

Hackman struck up a friendship with Martha Ray (who was several years older than he was) and was later reported to have become besotted with her. They may have become lovers and discussed marriage, but this is disputed. Although rich, Sandwich was usually in debt and offered Martha Ray no financial security. However, whatever was between Hackman and Martha Ray ended when he was posted to Ireland.

On 7 April 1779, a few weeks after his ordination as a priest of the Church of England, Hackman followed Martha Ray to Covent Garden, where she had gone to watch a performance of Isaac Bickerstaffe's comic opera Love in a Village with her friend and fellow singer Caterina Galli. Suspecting that Ray had a new lover, when Hackman saw her in the theatre with William Hanger, Lord Coleraine, he left, fetched two pistols, and waited in a nearby coffee house. After Ray and Galli came out of the theatre, Hackman approached the ladies just as they were about to get into their carriage. He put one pistol to Ray's forehead and shot her dead. With the other he then tried to kill himself but made only a flesh wound. He then beat himself with both discharged pistols until he was arrested and taken, with Martha Ray's body, into a tavern in St James's Street. Two letters were found on Hackman, one addressed to his brother-in-law, Frederick Booth, and a love letter to Martha Ray: both later appeared in evidence at the murder trial.

When Lord Sandwich heard what had happened, he "wept exceedingly".

On 14 April 1779, Martha Ray was entombed inside the parish church of Elstree, Hertfordshire, but her body was later moved into the cemetery. On the instructions of Lord Sandwich, she was buried in the clothes she had been wearing when killed.

Hackman was hanged at Tyburn on 19 April 1779. He travelled there in a mourning coach, accompanied by the sheriff's officer and two fellow clergymen, the Rev. Moses Porter, a curate friend from Clapham, and the Rev. John Villette, the chaplain of Newgate Prison. James Boswell later denied rumours that he had also been in the coach.

At Tyburn, "Hackman... behaved with great fortitude; no appearances of fear were to be perceived, but very evident signs of contrition and repentance". His body was later publicly dissected at Surgeons' Hall, London.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/858 <![CDATA[A Song, on the Confession and Dying Words of William Stevenson, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:42:10+11:00

Title

A Song, on the Confession and Dying Words of William Stevenson,

Subtitle

Merchant, late of North-Allerton, in the County of York, aged 27 Years, who was executed at Durham on Saturday the 26th of August, 1727, for the barbarous Murder of Mary Fawden, near Hartlepool in the Bishoprick of Durham; taken from his own Mouth the Night before his Execution, by a Person that went to visit him while in Goal.

Synopsis

From Gwenda Morgan, Peter Rushton, Rogues, thieves, and the rule of law: the problem of law enforcement in north-east England, 1718-1800, p. 139:

William Stevenson's murder of his pregnant lover in 1727, by throwing her down the cliffs near Hartlepool, was celebrated in a long ballad with many prurient and bloody details whose verses were remembered locally for decades afterwards. It is highly ambiguous concerning the innocence of the victim, Mary Fawden,....

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library, Shelfmark: HEH 289784; EBBA ID: 32526

Set to tune of...

Since Caelia's my Foe

Transcription

GOOD Lord! I'm undone, thy Face I would shun,
I've anger'd my God, and displeased his Son:
I dare not come nigh thy great Majesty,
Oh! where shall I hide my poor Soul when I die.

Thy Vengence I dread on my guilty Head,
All Hopes of thy Mercy from me now are fled;
My poor sinful Soul is filthy and foul,
And Terror and Horror in my Conscience roll.

The Shame of my Race, and Mankind's disgrace,
My Actions all over were wicked and base;
No Devil in Hell that from Glory fell,
Can now with my Blood-guilty Soul parallel.

Her Affections I drew, how could I embrue
My Hands in her Blood! Oh! my God, I do rue
The curst hellish Deed, I made her to bleed,
That never did wrong me in thought, word, or deed.

I us'd my whole art, 'till I stole her Heart,
And swore to befriend her, and still take her Part,
Thus being beguil'd, she soon prov'd with Child,
Which made her weep sorely, but I only smil'd.

With sighs and with groans with tears and with moans
She utter'd such Plaints a would soften flint Stone;
Oh! where shall I hide my Shame oft she cry'd,
Dear Sir, take some pity, and for me provide. [only one page on EBBA]

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Tune Data

Since Caelia's my Foe, (Simpson 1966, pp. 661-62)
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/859 <![CDATA[A Terror for TRAITORS ]]> 2020-01-08T14:42:27+11:00

Title

A Terror for TRAITORS

Subtitle

Or, Treason Justly punished.
[Be]ing a Relation of a Damnd Conspiracy against the life of the King, and the Subversion of the Government, hatchd and contrived by ill-affected Persons, namely, Captain Thomas Walcot, William Hone, and John Rouse, who were drawn, hangd, and quarterd, for High-Treason, on Friday the 20. of this instant July: As also, the Lord Russel, who was beheaded in Lincolns-Inn-fields, on the 21. of the same Moneth, whose Fatal and deserved Punishments, may be a Warning for all others to avoid the like Crimes. To the Tune of, Digbys Fare-well, Or, On the bank of a River, etc.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library - Roxburghe, Shelfmark: C.20.f.9.796; EBBA 31479

Set to tune of...

Transcription

YOU Traytors of England how dare you Conspire,
Against such a Prince whose love we admire?
And against his dear Brother that Royal brave Sparke,
Right Heir to the Crown, sweet James Duke of York.
But yet I do hope, that theyl ner have their will,
To touch our dear Princes who nere thought them ill; O Russel you ploted against a good King.
Whose fame through all Nations in AEurope doth Reign

But Heavens will protect him and still be his guide,
And keep him from danger and be on his side;
And all that do plot against him or the Heir,
I hope that their Feet will be catcht in a snare:
By this Conspiration your Ruine youve caught,
And under a hatchet your head you have brought:
O Russel you plotted, etc.

You might have livd manie a year in much Fame,
And added much Honour unto your good Name;
But now this a blot in your Scutcheon will be,
For being concerned with this gross Villany;
But now your dear Parents in heart may lament,
Without all dispute theyve but little content, To think that you plotted, etc.

Your Lady may grieve, and lament for her loss,
To lose you for Treason it proves a great cross,
But it was no more than what was your desert,
No reason but that he should taste of the smart:
[But] had you then been [a] good S[ubject] indeed,
You would not have sufferd, you would have been freed.
But Russel you plotted, etc.

Now let me but ask you a question or two,
What would you have had, or intended to do?
The Laws of this Nation ye would have thrown down,
Then ye would have aimd at the Scepter and Crown;
But Heaven I hope will all Plotting disclose,
And the Laws of the Nation shall punish the Foes Of our great Monarch, and gracious good King, Whose Fame through all Nations in AEurop doth Reign.

When Persons have Honor and Pleasures great store,
Yet still they are having and gruding for more;
Their hearts are deceitful and puffed with pride,
And Lucifer certainly stands by their side,To things most unlawful he makes them conspire,
But he laughs at them all when they stick in the mire, O Russel you plotted, etc.

True Subjects of England are filled with fears,
And for their great Soveraign they shed many tears,
To think this no reason will Traytors convince,
But still theyle be plotting against a good Prince:
Those that should have been a great help to the Land,
They sought for our ruine we well understand. But Russel you plotted, etc.

There was Walcot and Rouse were both in the plot,
And Hone I do reckon must not be forgot;
At Tyburn for certain, each man took his turn,
And then in the fire their bowels did burn,
A death so deserving, none will deny:
For sure they plotted against a good King,
Whose Fame through all Nations in AEurop doth Reign.

Let this be a warning to Rich and to Poor,
To be [true] to their King, and to plot so no more,
And that our good King may have Plenty and P[eace,]
And the Loyal Subjects may daily increase,
There never were People more happy than we,
If unto the Government all would agree. Then hang up those Traitors who love not the King, Whose Fame through all Nations in AEurope doth Reign.

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering; beheading

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln's Inn Fields

Tune Data

Packington's Pound is often cited as Digby's Farewell,Packingtons Pound, On the back of a River, or Amintas' Farewell. The tune first appeared in 1671 and was popular for execution ballads (Simpson 1966, pp. 181-187, 564-570).

Notes

Wikipedia: William Russell, Lord Russell (29 September 1639 - 21 July 1683) was an English politician. He was a leading member of the Country Party, forerunners of the Whigs, who opposed the succession of James II during the reign of Charles II, ultimately resulting in his execution for treason. This was followed by the Rye House Plot, a plan to ambush Charles II and his brother James at the Rye House, Hoddesdon, on their way back to London from the Newmarket races. However the plot was disclosed to the government.

Unlike several of his co-conspirators, Russell refusing to escape to Holland. He was accused of promising his assistance to raise an insurrection and bring about the death of the king. He was sent on 26 June 1683 to the Tower of London, where he prepared himself for his death. Monmouth offered to return to England and be tried if doing so would help Russell, and Essex refused to abscond for fear of injuring his friend's chance of escape. However, he was tried and convicted of treason and sentenced to death by beheading.

Russell was executed by Jack Ketch on 21 July 1683 at Lincoln's Inn Fields. The execution was said to have been conducted quite poorly by Ketch. Ketch later wrote a letter of apology. Russell was lauded as a martyr by the Whigs, who claimed that he was put to death in retaliation for his efforts to exclude James from succession to the crown. Russell was exonerated by the reversal of attainder under William III of England. Ketch's execution of Lord Russell at Lincoln's Inn Fields on 21 July 1683 was performed clumsily; a pamphlet entitled The Apologie of John Ketch, Esquire contains his apology, in which he alleges that the prisoner did not "dispose himself as was most suitable" and that he was interrupted while taking aim.

On that occasion, Ketch wielded the instrument of death either with such sadistically nuanced skill or with such lack of simple dexterity - nobody could tell which, that the victim suffered horrifically under blow after blow, each excruciating but not in itself lethal. Even among the bloodthirsty throngs that habitually attended English beheadings, the gory and agonizing display had created such outrage that Ketch felt moved to write and publish a pamphlet title Apologie, in which he excused his performance with the claim that Lord Russell had failed to "dispose himself as was most suitable" and that he was therefore distracted while taking aim on his neck.

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https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/860 <![CDATA[A Triumph for true Subiects, and a Terrour vnto al Traitours: ]]> 2020-01-08T14:42:46+11:00

Title

A Triumph for true Subiects, and a Terrour vnto al Traitours:

Subtitle

By the example of the late death of Edmund Campion, Ralphe Sherwin, and Thomas ['Thomas' crossed out; 'Alexander' written above it in ink] Bryan, Iesuites and Seminarie priestes: Who suffered at Tyburne, on Friday the first Daye of December. Anno Domini. 1581.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Society of Antiquaries of Lodon - Broadsides, Shelfmark: Cab Lib g; EBBA 36313

Composer of Ballad

William Elderton?

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

London, Richard Iones, dwellinge ouer agaynst the Faulcon, neare Holburne Bridge. Anno. I58I.

Notes

Wikipedia: Saint Edmund Campion (24 January 1540 - 1 December 1581) was an English Jesuit priest, executed as a traitor, but regarded by the Catholic Church as a martyr.

Committed to the Tower of London, he was questioned in the presence of Queen Elizabeth, who asked him if he acknowledged her to be the true Queen of England. He replied she was, and she offered him wealth and dignities, but on condition of rejecting his Catholic faith, which he refused to accept. He was kept a long time in prison and reputedly racked twice. Despite the effect of a false rumour of retraction and a forged confession, his adversaries summoned him to four public conferences (1, 18, 23 and 27 September 1581).

Although still suffering from his ill treatment, and allowed neither time nor books for preparation, he reportedly conducted himself so easily and readily that he won the admiration of most of the audience. Tortured again on 31 October, he was indicted at Westminster on a charge of having conspired, along with others, in Rome and Reims to raise a sedition in the realm and dethrone the Queen.

Campion was sentenced to death as a traitor. He answered: "In condemning us, you condemn all your own ancestors, all our ancient bishops and kings, all that was once the glory of England -- the island of saints, and the most devoted child of the See of Peter." He received the death sentence with the Te Deum laudamus. After spending his last days in prayer he was led with two companions, Ralph Sherwin and Alexander Briant, to Tyburn where the three were hanged, drawn and quartered on 1 December 1581. He was 41 years of age.

Edmund Campion was beatified by Pope Leo XIII on 9 December 1886. Blessed Edmund Campion was canonized nearly eighty-four years later in 1970 by Pope Paul VI as one of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales with a common feast day of 4 May. His feast day is celebrated on 1 December, the day of his martyrdom. The actual ropes used in his execution are now kept in glass display tubes at Stonyhurst College in Lancashire; each year they are placed on the altar of St Peter's Church for Mass to celebrate Campion's feast day - which is always a holiday for the school.
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https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/861 <![CDATA[A true and Tragical SONG, concerning Captain JOHN BOLTON, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:43:01+11:00

Title

A true and Tragical SONG, concerning Captain JOHN BOLTON,

Subtitle

of Bulmer, near Castle-Howard, who after a Trial of Nine Hours, at York-Castle, on Monday the 27th of March, 1775, for the wilful Murder of ELIZABETH RAINBOW, an Ackworth Girl, his Apprentice; was found Guilty, and immediately received Sentence to be executed at Tyburn near York on Wednesday following, but on the same morning he strangled himself in the Cell where he was confined, and so put a period to his wicked and desperate Life. His Body was then pursuant to his Sentence, given given to the Surgeons at York Infirmary to be dissected and anatomized.

Synopsis

Captain seduces his female apprentice and after finding out she is pregnant murders her. He then kills himself in jail rather than be publicly executed.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library - Roxburghe, Shelfmark: C.20.f.9.453; EBBA 31133

Set to tune of...

Fair Lady lay your costly Robes aside

Transcription

GOOD Christian people all, both old and young,
Pray give attention to this tragic song:
My days are shortned by my vicious life,
And I must leave my children and my wife.

When I was prisoner to York-Castle brought,
My mind was filld with dismal, pensive thought;
Conscious of guilt, it filled my heart with woe;
Such terrors I before did never know.

When at the bar of justice I did stand,
With guilty conscience and uplifted hand,
The Court straitway then unto me they said,
What say you Bolton to the charge here laid?

In my defence I for a while did plead,
Sad sentence to evade (which I did dread)
But my efforts did me no kind of good,
For I must suffer, and pay blood for blood.

To take her life I did premeditate;
Which now has brought me to this wretched fate.
And may my death on all a terror strike,
That none may ever after do the like.

Murder prepense it is the worst of crimes,
And calls aloud for vengeance at all times,
May none hereafter be like me undone,
But always strive the Tempters snares to shun.

By me she was seducd in her life-time,
Which addeth guilt to guilt, and crime to crime.
By me she was debauched and defild,
And then by me was murderd, and her child.

Inhuman and unparalleld the case,
I pray God give all mortal men more grace,
Nones been more vile, more guilty in the land,
How shall I at the great Tribunal stand?

I should have been her guardian and her friend,
I did an orphan take her for that end,
But Satan did my morals so subdue,
That I did take her life and infants too.

To poison her it was my full intent,
But Providence did that design prevent,
Then by a rope, fast twisted with a fife,
I strangled her, and took her precious life.

My Counsel I did hope would get me clear,
But such a train of proofs there did appear,
Which made the Court and Jury for to cry
Hes guilty, let the wicked culprit die.

When I in fetters in York-Castle lay,
The morning of my execution day,
For to prevent the multitude to see
Myself exposed on the fatal tree.

I then did perpetrate my last vile crime,
And put a final end unto my time,
Myself I strangled in the lonesome cell,
And ceased in this transit world to dwell.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

Tune Data

Fair Lady lay your costly Robes aside, is also known as Death and the Lady (Simpson 1966, pp. 169-70).
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https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/862 <![CDATA[A true relation of one Susan Higges ]]> 2020-01-08T14:43:25+11:00

Title

A true relation of one Susan Higges

Subtitle

dwelling in Risborrow a towne in Buckinghamshire, and how shee lived 20. yeeres, by robbing on the high-wayes, yet unsuspected of all that knew her; till at last, comming to Messeldon, there robbing a woman; which woman knew her and called her by her name: now when she saw she was betrayed, she killed her, and standing by her while she gave three groanes, she spat three drops of blood in her face, which never could be washt out; by which whee was knowne and executed for the aforesaid murder at the assises in Lent at Brickhill. To the tune of, The worthy London prentice.

Synopsis

Susan Higges, highway robber, blackmails young men whom she finds with the maids in her house and for 20 years robs people on the highway. Her final victim, a woman, recognises her and is killed for it, but spits blood in Higges' face that will not wash off. In fear, Higges confesses her crimes.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library - Roxburghe, Shelfmark C.20.f.7.424-425; EBBA 30289

Set to tune of...

The worthy London prentice

Transcription

TO mourne for my offences, and former passed sinnes,
This sad and dolefull story, my heavy heart begins:
Most wickedly I spent my time. devoide of godly grace:
A lewder Woman never liv'd, I thinke in any place.

Nare Buckingham I dwelled, and Susan Higges by name,
Well thought of by good Gentlemen and Farmers of good fame:
Where thus.for xx. yeares at least, I liv'd in gallant sort:
Which made the Country marvell much, to here of my report.

My state was not maintained,
(as you shall understand)
By good and honest dealings, nor labour of my hand:
But by deceipt and couzening shifts the end whereof, we see
Hath ever beene repaide with shame and ever like to be.

My servants were young Countrey girles brought up unto my mind,
By nature faire and beautifull, and of a gentle kinde:
Who with their sweet intising eyes, did many Youngsters move
To come by night unto my house in hope of further love.

But still at their close meetings, (as I the plot had late)
I slept in still at unawares, while they the wantons plaid.
And would in question bring their names, except they did agree
To give me money for this wrong, done to my house and me.

This was but petty couzenage, to things that I have done:
My weapon by the high-way side, hath me much money wonne:
In mens attyre I oft have rode, upon a Gelding stout,
And done great robberies valiantly, the Countries round about.

I had my Scarfes and Vizards, my face for to disguise:
Sometime a beard upon my chin, to blinde the peoples eyes.
My Turkie blade, and Pistols good, my courage to maintaine:
Thus took I many a Farmers purse well cram'd with golden gaine.

Great store of London Marchants I boldly have bid Stand,
And showed my selfe most bravely, a Woman of my hand,
You rulsling Roysters, every one in my defence say then,
Wee women still for gallant minds, may well compare with men.

But if so bee it chanced, the Countries were beset,
With hue and cryes and warrants into my house I get:
And I so being with my Maides, would cloake the matter so,
That no man could by any meanes, the right offender know.

Yet God that still most justly, doth punish every vice,
Did bring unto confusion my fortunes in a trice:
For by a murther all my sinnes were strangly brought to light:
And such desert I had by law, as justice claim'd by right.

Upon the Heath of Misseldon, I met a woman there,
And robd her, as from market, home-wards she did repaire:
Which woman cald me by my name and said, that she me knew:
For which, even with her lifes deare bloud, my hands I did imbrew.

But after I had wounded, this women unto death,
And that her bleeding body, was almost reft of breath:
She gave a grone: and therewithall did spit upon my face,
Three drops of blood, that never could be wiped from that place:

For after I returned unto my house againe,
The more that I it washde, it more appeared plaine:
Each houre I thought that beasts, [&] birds this murther would reveale,
Or that the ayre, so vile a deede, no longer would conceale.

So heavy at my conscience, this wofull murther lay,
That I was soone inforced, the same for to beware,
And to my servants made it known,
as God appointed me:
For blood can never secret rest,
nor long unpunisht be.

My servants to the Justices,
declar'd what I had said:
For which I was attached,
and to the Jayle convaied,
And at the Sises was condemnd, and had my just desert:
Even such a death let all them have, that beare so false a heart.

So farewell earthly pleasure,
my quaintance all adue,
With whom I spent the treasure,
which causeth me to rue.
Leave off your wanton pastimes,
lascivious and ill,
Which without Gods great mercy,
doth soule and body kill.

Be warned by this story, you ru[s]sling Rosters all:
The higher that you climbe in sinne the greater is your fall:
For now the world so wicked is, in Maiden and in Wife
That few, or none, can finde the way to lead an honest life.

FINIS.

Method of Punishment

hanging?

Crime(s)

murder, highway robbery

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Brickhill Assises

Printing Location

London : for F. C[oles] dwelling in the Old-Baily, [ca. 1640?]

Tune Data

The worthy London prentice first appeard in the Elizabethan period as is tself is set to All You That Love Good Fellows (Simpson 1966, pp. 13-15).

Notes

Same text as 'The sorrowful complaint of Susan Higges...' with an extra stanza second from end, and set to a different tune 'London Prentice'. Contains two different woodcuts as well.
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https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/863 <![CDATA[A Warning to all Priests and jesuites, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:43:38+11:00

Title

A Warning to all Priests and jesuites,

Subtitle

by the example of two Masse-priests, which for seducing and stealing away the hearts of the Kings Loyall Subjects, were hangd, drawne, and quartered: whose execution was on Friday, being the 21. day of January, 1642. To the Tune of, A Rich Merchant Man.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Bodleian Library, University of Oxford, Shelfmark: Ashm. H 23 fol. (47); Bodleian Ballads Online Bod4933

Set to tune of...

Date

Printing Location

London for F. Grove dwelling on Snow hill
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https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/865 <![CDATA[AN ELEGY On the DEATH of William Lord RUSSEL, ]]> 2020-01-08T16:04:39+11:00

Title

AN ELEGY On the DEATH of William Lord RUSSEL,

Subtitle

Who was Beheaded for High-Treason, in Lincolns-Inn-Fields, July the 21st. 1683.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Bridgewater, Shelfmark: HEH 134718; EBBA 32144

Transcription

TO sigh when Rebels fall, or shed a Tear,
Must, doubtless, make Me Criminal appear;
Not that I love thy Treason, but thy Name,
Which all ador'd, and in the Book of Fame
Gave thee a place befitting thy Deserts;
But now thou wound'st all loyal honest Hearts

Who shall we trust, if such as You Rebel?
So the great Lucifer from Heaven fell.
RUSSEEL with Hell and Furies too combine!
To kill the KING and all the Royal Line!
Ah me! it is too true! His now lost Head
Confirms whatever has on him been said.

O that I live to hear the fatal sound,
Whose very accent does my Heart-strings wound!
Is this your Loyalty; Is this your Zeal,
To damn your Soul for a curs'd Commonweal?
Though once I lov'd Thee, now I hate thy Name,
And thus I'll rend it from the Book of Fame,
That future Ages, when they read thy shame,
May praise Heav'ns Justice, and abhor thy Name.

Who, but a Monster, could Rebellious prove
To such Indulgence, Clemency and Love,
As our Dread Sov'reign evermore bestows
Upon his Friends, nay on his very Foes,
Which slew his Father, and would Him Depose?

O that our Island should such Monsters breed,
Which, Nero-like, delight to see her bleed!
Look down just Heav'n, with Vengeance upon those
That are our Sov'reigns and our Churches Foes,
And as thou hast, still all their Plots disclose:
O let 'em not, although with Hell they joyn,
E'r be successful in their damn'd Design,
Whose only aim was to find out a way
To turn our Sion to Acaldema,
And make all Loyal honest men their Prey.

Is't thus you would defend the King & Laws?
Confusion seize you, and your Good Old Cause,
And save our Sov'reign from your Bloody Paws.
Unpity'd, therefore, let each Traytor die,
While all that Loyal are, Amen do cry.

EPITAPH.
HEre under lies a Rebel, whose Design
Was to have murder'd all the Royal Line,
But was prevented by the Power-Divine:
The great Opposer of our Sov'reigns Laws,
Who dy'd a Martyr for the Good Old Cause.
May Heaven still defend the King and Throne,
And may such cursed Rebels e'ry one
Meet the same Fate; then would our Isle be blest
With Peace and Plenty, and a Halcyon-rest.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln's Inn Fields

Printing Location

Prined by Nath. Thompson, at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Chariug-Cross, 1683.

Notes

Wikipedia: Lord Russell's execution

Ketch's execution of Lord Russell at Lincoln's Inn Fields on 21 July 1683 was performed clumsily; in a pamphlet entitled The Apologie of John Ketch, Esquire he alleged that the prisoner did not "dispose himself as was most suitable" and that he was interrupted while taking aim.

On that occasion, Ketch wielded the instrument of death either with such sadistically nuanced skill or with such lack of simple dexterity - nobody could tell which - that the victim suffered horrifically under blow after blow, each excruciating but not in itself lethal. Even among the bloodthirsty throngs that habitually attended English beheadings, the gory and agonizing display had created such outrage that Ketch felt moved to write and publish a pamphlet title Apologie, in which he excused his performance with the claim that Lord Russell had failed to "dispose himself as was most suitable" and that he was therefore distracted while taking aim on his neck.
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https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/866 <![CDATA[An admonition to Doctor Story ]]> 2020-01-08T14:52:25+11:00

Title

An admonition to Doctor Story

Subtitle

beeing condemned of high Treason, sent to him before his death, but because it came to late to his hands; it is now put in print th[at it ma]y be a warning to all other papists whereby they may repent and c[all to God f]or mercy, cleue to his holy woord and liue ac[cording to the]Doctrine of the same.

Synopsis

John Story, a priest who had helped persecute Protestants is executed for high treason under Elizabeth I.
In the course of slurring papists and saints, this piece names many of the English Catholic martyrs, including Thomas More, John Felton, and the Nortons.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Britwell, Shelfmark: HEH18286; EBBA 32151

Transcription

BEstur your stomps good Story now, the gallous [...]ore
I am sory you came so late, that you must hang alone.
If you had come but one yeer past, company you migh[t] [...]
John Felton & the Nortons bothe, of you would have been glad
Alas what luck had you good man, to bide from hence so long
And hang behinde your company, no dout you had gr[...]
But sith Dame Fortune so dooth frown, and your [...]
I see that weeping wil not help, it boots not to be [...]
Therfore I wish you to repent, while you have time [...]
Lay holde on Faith in Christes blood, and call to God [...]
And now prepare your self with speed, to sail up Holbou[rn] [...]
And drinck you of that deadly cup, that you to us did fil[...]
Gods woord must needs be prooved true, which you doo st[...] [...]ave
Such measure as your self did give, such measure shall you have.
Remember wel your crueltye, in killing of Gods Saints:
whose blood for vengeaunce stil dooth cry, & god hearth their complaint.
& you have now your just reward, which you have wel deserved:
Because from God & princes lawes, so tratorously you swarved.
As I hear say you doo appele, unto your God the Pope:
But his Pardons cannot prevaile, to save you from the rope.
Nor yet his Masses many folde, they cannot you defend:
From Tiburn neither yet from hel, except you doo amend.
but when these newes are brought to Rome, how that you are attainted
Of high treason and hangd therfore, no dout you shal be Sainted.
These names & titles shall you have, in Rome when you be dead:
The Pope no dout wil you inrole, under his bulles of lea[...]
A Doctor and a Confessor, thus shall you be extolde:
A Martyr and a Saint also, but yet a traitor bolde.
That day that you hanged shal be, it shall be holy day:
And so ordained by the Pope, that men to you may pray.
Thus shall you be canonized, as Saint as I have said:
Then to be hangd for high treason, what need you be afraid?
For you shall have Trentalls great store, of Masses said & sung:
And all the belles that be in Roome, for your soule shal be rung.
If some good popish catholike, of your hart could take holde:
And bring it to the Pope in Rome, it should be shrinde in golde.
Because that in the Popes defence, you dyed so bolde and stout:
If that your soule doo go to hel, the Pope wil Masse it out.
And place you by his owne white side, where all the saints doo dwel
In that heaven which him self hath made, not very far from hel.
Where you shall have such plesant joyes, Masse & mattens by note
Saint Pluto there sings Masse him self, in a red firye cote.
Saint Dunstone is one of his clarkes, Saint Hildebrand another
There shall you see Saint Dominick, and S. Francis his brother.
Saint Fryer Forest is the Preest, to hear the Saints confession:
Saint Fryer Bacon beres the Crosse, before them in p[roc]ession.
There shall you meete S. Thomas Becket, that had the g[...] [...]ine
And S. Thomas of Harefordshere, bothe costly brave [...]
There shall you meete S. Boniface, S. Remige and S. [...]
Saint Brigid and S. Clare the Nun, with the holy ma[...]
There shall you meete S. Cardinall Poole, & sw[...]
S. Thomas More a traitor stout, with the ho[...]
There shall you see that blessed Saint, Pope Ur[ban]
Who was the first that did invent, and make Corps Chri[sti]
These Saints and ye[...] [...]o, with all the Sleepers seve[n]
Shall meete you wit[...] [...]n, and welcome you to H[eaven]
And there you shall h[...] [...]ing stil, from morning v[...]
And meete with your familier freends, S. Edmond and S. S[...]
Saint Christopher that late was hangd, at Tiburn you b[...]
There shall you meete S. Felton to, with many [...]
All these Good Saints as I have said, wil meet [...]
And bid you welcome into Heaven, with joy whe [...]
Then al these Angels & these Saints, with great mirth [...]
Unto the high infernall seat, and set you next the kin[...]
You shall be made the cheefest Saint, and sit aboove th[...]
Higher then ever Dunstone was, or any Preest of Ba[...]
You shal be judge of all the Saints, and highest in C[...]stion:
Even as you heer upon Earth were, to maintain superstion.

Math. 6.

The popes
Heaven next
house to
hel.

These are
the Popes
Saints.

Loke in Le
gend aurea
and there
shall you
finde what
S Remege
was.

Sir Tho-
mas More
once Lord
chaunceler
of England.

Loke in the
Festival for
the seven
Sleepers.

Boner and
Gardener.

Norton.

But yet I dout you shall not skape, the Purgatory flame.
[I]f Masses and Diriges doo not help, to save you from the same.
Of whiche I knowe you shall lack none, for many wilbe fain:
[T]o have a thousand for your sake, to fetch you out again.
[B]ut you shall Masses great store have, in the heaven where you go:
[T]hat wil keep you from Purgatory, if that the Pope say no.
[T]hus maister Doctor have I tolde, your joyes after this life:
Because with Gods woord & your Prince, you dye so far at strife.
These be the joyes that you shall have, in the Popes heaven to reign:
But in Gods heaven where true joyes be, no traitor shall remain
No Papist nor Idolater, that doo refuse gods woord:
No worshipper of Images, shall stand before the Lord,
Nor yet Rebellious Massemonger, that dooth his Prince despise:
Against all Popish blood suckers, the Lord wil turn his eyes.
No witch nor wicked whoremonger, which your pope dooth defend
No Conjurer nor yet such like, to Gods heaven shall ascend.
No Buggerers orels yet baudes, in Gods heaven shal have place:
No Briber nor Simoniack, nor Perjurer past grace.
No supersticious Hereticks, nor mainteners of whores:
No Sectaries nor Sodomits, shall come within heaven doores,
All wilful virgins with their vowes, professing to live chaste:
That godly mariage doo contemn, from Gods heaven shall be cast.
And such were all your popish Saints, that I before have named:
with all these sinnes moste horible, the moste of them were blamed
But in such filthy stincking Saints, the Lord hath no delight:
And from the joyes celestiall, he wil exclude them quite.
But these Saints that in Gods heaven, shall have their habitation:
Who by true faith in Christes blood, doo seek their whole salvation
And such as doo unfainedly, beleeve Gods holy woord:
Whose life and good profession, together doo accord.
And live like subjects to their prince, obeying godly lawes:
Not thus to hang like traitors stout, as doo you popish dawes.
Lo maister Doctor these be they, whom we good Saints doo call:
One of these Saints doo plese God more, then doo the popes saints all
And if you be unhangd as yet, God graunt you may repent:
That you may be one of these Saints, of Christe omnipotent.
But if you be all redy hangd, I leave you to your judge:
And let the Papists by you take heed, how they doo spurn & grudge
Against God and their lawful Queene, I would not wish them run
Lest that they drink of that same cup, as you before have doon.
God be thanked that our Queene, begins to look about:
To draw the sword out of the shethe, to weed such trators out.
Therfore you popish traitors all, forsake your Roomish sects:
Obey your Queene like subjects true, or els beware your necks.
Take heed how you provoke your Prince, at any time to wrath:
Whose angre is saith Salomon, the messanger of death.
The Kings displeasure is even as, the roaring Lions voice:
Then to provoke the Queene to wrath, papists doo not rejoice.
Abuse not the Queenes lenity, that shee to you dooth showe:
What small vantage is got therby, some papists late doo knowe.
Consider what great benefits, we have of her good grace,
Shee dooth maintain Gods holy woord, to shine in every place.
How godly hath she ruled us, by wise councels advice:
Of such a precious jewel you, papists knowe not the price.
Shee seeketh to doo harme to none, but to doo all men good:
Yea, to her foes that sought her death, she hath not sought their blood
Til now of late they did rebel, high treason to conspire:
Then was it time to cut them of, and hang them somewhat hier.
To end, God save her majestye, from bloody papists vain:
And Lord send her olde Nestors yeeres, w us to live and reigne.

It is time.

Pro. 20.

A tiborne
tippets.

Composer of Ballad

Iohn. Cornet. Minister.

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

London, the long Shop adioyning vnto Saint Mildreds Chruche in the Pultrie, by Iohn Allde

Notes

John Story, a Catholic priest who had helped Bishop Bonner to persecute Protestants during the reign of Mary, and who subsequently worked as a censor for the Spanish Inquisition in Flanders, was kidnapped out of Flanders and returned to England in 1570. On 1 June 1571 he was executed for treason.

The spectacle of his trial moved St. Edmund Campion, who was present, to reconsider both his own position and his Catholic duty. In 1886, John Story was beatified by Pope Leo XIII owing to a papal decree originally approved by Pope Gregory XVI in 1859.

]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/867 <![CDATA[AN ELEGIE On the never to be forgotten Sir Thomas Armstrong Knight; ]]> 2020-01-08T14:52:37+11:00

Title

AN ELEGIE On the never to be forgotten Sir Thomas Armstrong Knight;

Subtitle

Executed for Conspiring the Death of His most Sacred Majesty, and Royal Brother, June 20. 1684. With some Satyrical Reflections on the whole Faction.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Bridgewater, Shelfmark: HEH 134747; EBBA 32147

Transcription

Stand forth ye damn'd deluding Priests of Baal,
And sound from out each Trumpet Mouth a Call
Let it be loud and shrill, that ev'ry Man
May hear the noise, from Beersheba to Dan;
To summon all the Faction, that they may
In doleful Hums and Haws, bewail this day,
And to their Just Confusion howl and roar,
For the great Bully of their Cause, is now no more.

But now methinks I hear the Faction cry,
Ohone! Where's all thy Pomp and Gallantry?
Thy Great Commands, they Interest and thy State?
The many Crouds which did upon thee wait?
When thou like Atlas on thy shoulders bore,
That mighty World which we so much adore
That Pageant Heroe, Off-spring of a Whore.

Behold ye stubborn Crew, the certain Fate
That waits upon the hardened Reprobate.
See; the effects of Treason's Terrible,
In this life Infamy, and i'th' next a Hell,
While Heav'n attends on Kings with special Care,
The Traitor to himself becomes a snare:
Drove out like Cain, to wander through the World,
By his own thoughts into Distraction hurl'd,
Despis'd by all, perplext with hourly fear,
And by his Friends push't like the hunted Deer,
Like a mad Dog, still houted as he ran,
A just Reward for th' base Rebellious man.

How often has kind Heaven preserv'd the Crown,
And tumbled the Audacious Rebel down?
How many Warnings have they had of late?
How often read their own impending Fate?
That still they dare their wicked Acts pursue,
And know what Heaven has ordain'd their due?
That man who cou'd not reas'nably desire
To raise his Fortunes, and his Glories higher,
Who did enjoy, unto a wish, such store,
That all his Ancestors scarce heard of more,
Shou'd by his own procuring fall so low,
As if he'd study'd his own overthrow,
Looks like a story yet without a Name,
And may be stil'd the first Novel in Fame?
So the fam'd Angels, Turbulent as Great,
Who always waited 'bout the Mercy-Seat,
Desiring to be something yet unknown,
Blunder'd at all, and would have graspt the Crown,
Till Heaven's Great Monarch, saw they wou'd Rebel,
Then dasht their Hopes, and damn'd them down to Hell.

And now methinks I see to th'fatal place
A Troop of Whiggs with Faction in each Face,
And Red-swoln Eyes, moving with mournful pace,
Pitying the Mighty Sampson of their Cause,
Cursed their Fates, and Railing at the Laws.
The Sitters too appear, with sniveling ryes
To celebrate their Stallions Obsequies;
From th' Play-house and from Change, how they resort,
From Country, City, nay, there's some from Court,
From the Old C---ss wither'd and decay'd,
To a Whigg Brewers Youthful Lovely Maid.
Gods! What a Troop is here? sure Hercules
Had found enough so many Whores to please.

Repent, ye Factious Rout, Repent and be
Forewarn'd by this bold Traytors Destiny.
Go home ye Factious Dogs, and mend your Lives;
Be Loyal, and make honest all your Wives.
You keep from Conventicles first, and then
Keep all your Wives from Conventicling Men.
Leave off your Railing 'gainst the King and State,
Your foolish Prating, and more foolish Hate.
Obey the Laws, and bravely act your parts,
And to the Church unite in Tongues and Hearts;
Be sudden too, before it proves too late,
Lest you partake of this bold Traytors Fate.

And if the Faction thinks it worth the Cost,
(To keep this Bully's Name from being lost)
To raise a Pillar, to perpetuate
His Wond'rous Actions, and Ignoble Fate,
Let 'em about it streight, and when 'tis done,
I'le Crown the Work with this Inscription.

Bold Fame thou Ly'st! Read here all you
That wou'd this Mighty Mortal know;
First, he was one of low degree,
But rose to an Hyperbole.
Famous t'excess in ev'ry thing,
But duty to his God, and King;
In Oaths as Great as any He,
That ever Grac'd the Tripple Tree;
So Absolute, when Drencht in Wine,
He might have been the God o' th' Vine.
His Brutal Lust was still so strong,
He never spar'd, or old, or young;
In Cards and Dice he was well known,
T'out-cheat the Cheaters of the Town.

These were his Virtues, if you'd know
His Vices too pray read below.

Not wholly Whig, nor Atheist neither,
But something form'd of both together,
Famous in horrid Blasphemies,
Practic'd in base Adulteries.
In Murders vers'd as black, and foul
As his Degenerated Soul.
In's Maxims too, as great a Beast, *His Father
As *those his honest Father drest. was a Groom.
The Factious Bully, Sisters Stallion:
Now Hang'd, and Damn'd, for his Rebellion.

Method of Punishment

hanging, drawing and quartering

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

LONDON, Printed for William Bateman, in the / Old Change.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/868 <![CDATA[An Excellent Ballad of George Barnwel an Apprentice in London, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:52:54+11:00

Title

An Excellent Ballad of George Barnwel an Apprentice in London,

Subtitle

who was undone by a Strumpet, who thrice Robbed his Master, and Murdered his Uncle in Ludlow.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballads 2.158-159; EBBA 20778

Set to tune of...

Transcription

A LL Youths of fair England, that dwell both far and near,
Regard my Story that I tell and to my Song give ear:
A London Lad I was, a Merchants Prentice bound,
My name George Barnwel, that did spend my Master many a pound.

Take heed of Harlots then, and their inticing trains,
For by that means I have bin brought to hang alive in Chains.
As I upon a Day was walking through the street,
About my Masters business, I did a wanton meet,

A gallant dainty Dame, and sumptuous in attire,
With smiling looks she greeted me, and did my name require:
Which when I had declar'd, she gave me then a kiss
And said if I would come to her, I should have more than this:

In faith my Boy (quoth she) such news I can you tell,
As shall rejoyce thy very heart, then come where I do dwell.
Fair Mistris, then said I, if I the place may know,
This evening I will be with you, for I abroad must go

To gather Monies in, that is my Masters due,
And e're that I do home return, i'le come and visit you.
Good Barnwel , then (quoth she) do thou to Shoreditch come,
And ask for mistris Milwood there, next door unto the Gun.

And trust me on my truth, if thou keep touch with me,
For thy Friends sake, and as my own heart thou shalt right welcome be.
Thus parted we in peace, and home I passed right,
Then went abroad and gathered in by six a Clock at night.

An hundred pound and one, with Bag under my arm,
I went to Mistris Milwoods house, and thought on little harm:
And knocking at the door, straightway her self came down,
Rustling in most brave attire, her Hood and silken Gown.

Who through her beauty bright, so gloriously did shine,
That she amaz'd my dazling eyes, she seemed so divine.
She took me by the hand, and with a modest grace,
Welcome sweet Barnwel, then (quod she, unto this homely place:

Welcome ten thousand times, more welcome then my Brother,
And better welcome I protest than any one or other:
And seeing I have thee found as good as thy word to be,
A homely Supper e're thou part, thou shalt take here with me:

O pardon me (quoth I) fair Mistris I you pray,
For why, out of my Masters house so long I dare not stay.
Alas good Sir she said, are you so strictly ty'd,
You may not with your dearest friend one hour or two abide?

Faith then the case is hard, if it be so (quoth she)
I would I were a Prentice bound, to live in house with thee.
Therefore my sweetest George, list well what I do say,
And do not blame a woman much, her fancy to bewray.

Let not affections force, be counted lewd desire,
Nor think it not immodesty I should thy love require.
With that she turn'd aside, and with a blushing red,
A mournful motion she bewray'd, by holding down her head:

A Handkerchief she had all wrought with Silk and Gold,
Which she to stay her trickling tears, against her eyes did hold.
This thing unto my sight was wondrous rare and strange,
And in my mind and inward thoughts it wrought a sudden change:

That I so hardy was, to take her by the hand,
Saying, sweet Mistris why do you so sad and heavy stand?
Call me no Mistris now, but Sarah thy true friend,
Thy servant Sarah honouring thee until her life doth end:

If thou would'st here alledge thou art in years a Boy,
So was Adonis , yet was he fair Venus love and joy.
Thus I that ne'r before of woman found such grace,
And seeing now so fair a Dame give me a kind imbrace.

I supt with her that night with joys that did abound,
And for the same paid presently, in money twice three pound:
An hundred Kisses then, for my farewel she gave,
Saying sweet Barnwel when shall I again thy company have:

O stay not too long my dear, sweet George have me in mind:
Her words bewitcht my childishness, she uttered them so kind.
So that I made a vow, next Sunday without fail.
With my sweet Sarah once again to tell some pleasant Tale.

When she heard me say so, the tears fell from her eyes,
O George, quoth she, if thou dost fail, thy Sarah sure will dye.
Though long, yet loe at last, the 'pointed day was come,
That I must with my Sarah meet, having a mighty sum

Of Money in my hand, unto her house went I,
Whereas my Love upon her bed in saddest sort did lye,
What ails my hearts delight, my Sarah dear, quoth I ,
Let not my Love lament and grieve, nor sighing pine and dye,

But tell to me my dearest friend, what may thy woes amend,
And thou shalt lack no means of help, though forty pound I spend,
With that she turn'd her head and sickly thus did say,
O my sweet George my grief is great ten pounds I have to pay

Unto a cruel Wretch, and God knows quoth she,
I have it not, Tush rise quoth he, and take it here of me:
Ten pounds, nor ten times ten shall make my love decay,
Then from his Bag into her lap, he cast ten pound straightway.

All blith and pleasant then, to banquetting they go,
She proffered him to lye with her, and said it should be so:
And after that same time, I have her store of Coyn,
Yea, sometimes fifty pound at once, all which I did purloyn.

And thus I did pass on, until my Master then,
Did call to have his reckoning in cast up among his Men.
The which when as I heard, I knew not what to say,
For well I knew that I was out two hundred pounds that day.

Then from my Master straight I ran in secret sort,
And unto Sarah Milwood then my state I did report.
But how she us'd this Youth, in this his extream need,
The which did her necessity so oft with Money feed:

The Second Part behold, shall tell it forth at large,
And shall a Strumpets wily ways, with all her tricks discharge

The Second Part, to the same Tune.

Here comes young Barnwel unto thee sweet Sarah my delight,
I am undone except thou stand my faithful friend this night:
Our Master to command accounts, hath just occasion found,
And I am found behind the hand almost two hundred pound:

And therefore knowing not at all, what answer for to make,
And his displeasure to escape, my way to thee I take:
Hoping in this extremity, thou wilt my succour be,
That for a time I may remain in safety here with thee.

With that she nit and bent her brows, and looking all aquoy,
Quoth she, what should I have to do with any Prentice Boy?
And seeing you have purloyn'd & got your Masters goods away,
The case is bad, and therefore here I mean thou shalt not stay

Why sweet heart thou knowst, he said that all which I did get,
I have it and did spend it all upon thee every whit:
Thou knowst I loved thee so well, thou could'st not ask the thing,
But that I did incontinent the same unto thee bring.

Quoth she thou art a paultry Jack, to charge me in this sort,
Being a Woman of credit good, and known of good report:
A nd therefore this I tell thee flat, be packing with good speed,
I do defie thee from my heart, and scorn thy filthy deed.

I s this the love and friendship which thou didst to me protest?
Is this the great affection which you seemed to express?
Now fie on all deceitful shows, the best is I may speed.
To get a Lodging any where, for money in my need:

Therefore false woman now farewel, while twenty pound doth last,
My anchor in some other Haven I will with wisdom cast.
When she perceived by his words. that he had money store,
That she had gull'd him in such sort, it griev'd her heart full sore:

Therefore to call him back again, she did suppose it best.
Stay George quoth she, thou art too quick why man I do but jest;
Think'st thou for all my passed speech that I would let thee go?
Faith no. quod she, my love to thee I wis is more then so.

You will not deal with Prentice boys I heard you even now swear,
Therefore I will not trouble you, my George heark in thine ear.
Thou shalt not go to night quod she, what chance so e're befall,
But man we'l have a bed for thee, or else the Devil take all.

Thus I that was with wiles bewitcht and shar'd with fancy still.
Had not the power to put away, or to withstand her will.
Then wine and wine I called in, and cheer upon good cheer,
And nothing in the world I thought for Sarahs love too dear:

Whilst I was in her company in joy and merriment,
And all too little I did think, that I upon her spent.
A fig for care and careful thoughts, when all my Gold is hone,
I n faith my Girl we will have more, whoever it light upon.

My Father's rich, why then, quod I, should I want any Gold?
With a Father indeed, quoth she, a Son may well be bold.
I have a Sister richly wed, i'le rob her e're i'le want;
Why then, quod Sarah , they may well consider of your scant.

Nay more than this, an Uncle I have at Ludlow he doth dwell,
He is a Grasier, which in wealth doth all the rest excell:
E're I will live in lack, quoth he, and have no Coyn for thee,
I 'le rob his House, and murder him, why should you not, quoth she:

E're I would want were I a man, or live in poor Estate,
On Father, friends, and all my Kin, I would be Talons grate:
For without money, George, quod she, a Man is but a Beast,
And bringing Money thou shalt be always my chiefest Guest.

For say thou should'st pursued be with twenty Hues and Crys,
And with a Warrant searched for with Argus hundred Eyes:
Yet in my House thou shalt be safe, such privy ways there be,
That if they sought an hundred years they could not find out thee.

And so carousing in their Cups, their pleasures to content,
George Barnwel had in little space his money wholly spent.
Which being done, to Ludlow then he did provide to go,
To rob his wealthy Uncle then, his Minion would it so

And once or twice he thought to take his Father by the way,
But that he thought his master had took order for his stay.
D irectly to his Uncle then he rose with might and main,
Where with welcome and good cheer he did him entertain:

A Sennets space he stayed there, until it chanced so,
His Unkle with his Cattle did unto a market go:
His Kinsman needs must Ride with him, and when he saw right plain,
Great store of money he had took, in coming home again,

Most suddenly within a Wood he struck his Uncle down,
And beat his brains out of his head, so sore he crackt his crown:
And fourscore pound in ready coyn out of his Purse he took,
And coming into London Town, the Country quite forsook.

To Sarah Milwood then he came, shewing his store of Gold,
And how he had his Uncle stain, to her he plainly told.
Tush, it's no matter George, quod she, so we the money have,
To have good chear in jolly sort, and deck us fine and brave.

And this they liv'd in filthy sort, till all his store was gone,
And means to get them any more, I wis poor George had none.
And therefore now in railing sort, she thrust him out of door,
Which is the just reward they get, that spend upon a Whore.

O do me not this foul disgrace in this my need, quoth he,
She call'd him Thief and Murderer, with all despight might be.
And to the Constable she went to have him Apprehended,
And shew'd in each degree how far he had the Law offended.

When Barnwel saw her drift, to Sea he got straightway,
Where fear & dread & conscience sting upon himself doth stay:
Unto the Mayor of London then, he did a Letter write,
Wherein his own and Sarahs faults he did at large recite.

Whereby she apprehended was, and then to Ludlow sent,
Where she was judg'd, condemn'd and hang'd, for murder incontinent.
And there this gallant Quean did dye this was her greatest gains:
For Murder in Polonia, was Barnwel hang'd in Chains.

Lo, here's the end of wilful youth, that after Harlots haunt,
Who in the spoil of other men, about the streets do flaunt.

Method of Punishment

hanging, hanging in chains

Crime(s)

robbery, murder

Gender

Execution Location

Ludlow and Polonia

Printing Location

Printed for J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger.

Notes

For more on this ballad and the tune it is set to, see Research by Una McIlvenna: ‘The Rich Merchant Man, or, What the Punishment of Greed Sounded Like in Early Modern English Ballads’, Huntington Library Quarterly 79, no. 2 (Summer 2016) Special Issue: 'Living English Broadside Ballads, 1550-1750: Song, Art, Dance, Culture', eds. Patricia Fumerton and Megan Palmer-Browne: 279-299
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/869 <![CDATA[Anne VVallens Lamentation, ]]> 2021-06-17T11:16:15+10:00

Title

Anne VVallens Lamentation,

Subtitle

For the Murthering of her husband Iohn Wallen a Turner in Cow-lane neere Smithfield; done by his owne wife, on satterday the 22 of Iune. 1616. who was burnt in Smithfield the first of Iuly following.

Synopsis

Anne Wallen sings from the scaffold of her remorse at the stabbing death of her husband. However, spectators at her burning were convinced it was in self-defense against a violent attacker.

Digital Object


Image notice

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

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Pepys Ballads 1.124-125; EBBA 20053. Audio recording by Hannah Sullivan. 

Set to tune of...

Transcription

Great God that sees al things that here are don
Keeping thy Court with thy celestiall Son;
Heere her complaint that hath so sore offended,
Forgive my fact before my life is ended.

Ah me the shame unto all women kinde,
To harbour such a thought within my minde:
That now hath made me to the world a scorne,
And makes me curse the time that I was borne.

I would to God my mothers haples wombe,
Before my birth had beene my happy tombe:
Or would to God when first I did take breath,
That I had suffered any painefull death.

If ever dyed a true repentant soule,
Then I am she, whose deedes are blacke and foule:
Then take heed wives be to your husbands kinde,
And beare this lesson truely in your minde,

Let not your tongus oresway true reasons bounds,
Which in your rage your utmost rancour sounds:
A woman that is wise should seldome speake,
Unlesse discreetly she her words repeat

Oh would that I had thought of this before,
Which now to thinke on makes my heart full sore:
Then should I not have done this deed so foule,
The which hath stained my immortall soule.

Tis not to dye that thus doth cause me grieve,
I am more willing far to die than live;
But tis for blood which mounteth to the skies,
And to the Lord revenge, revenge, it cries.

My dearest husband did I wound to death,
And was the cause h[e] lost his sweetest breath,
But yet I trust his soule in heaven doth dwell,
And mine without Gods mercy sinkes to hell.

In London neere to smithfield did I dwell,
And mongst my neighbours was beloved well:
Till that the Devill wrought me this same spight,
That all their loves are turnd to hatred quight.

John Wallen was my loving husbands name,
Which long hath liv'd in London in good fame.
His trade a Turner, as was knowne full well,
My name An Wallen , dolefull tale to tell.

Anne wallens Lamentation,
Or the second part of the murther of one John Wallen a Turner in Cow-lane neere Smithfield; done by his owne wife, on saterday the 22 of June 1616.
who was burnt in Smithfield the first of July following,
To the tune of Fortune my foe.

My husband having beene about the towne,
And comming home, he on his bed lay down:
To rest himselfe, which when I did espie,
I fell to rayling most outragiously.

I cald him Rogue, and slave, and all to naught,
Repeating the worst language might be thought
Thou drunken knave I said, and arrant sot,
Thy minde is set on nothing but the pot.

Sweet heart he said I pray thee hold thy tongue,
And if thou dost not, I shall shall doe thee wrong,
At which, straight way I grew in worser rage,
That he by no meanes could my tongue asswage.

He then arose and strooke me on the eare,
I did at him begin to curse and sweare:
Then presently one of his tooles I got,
And on his body gave a wicked stroake

Amongst his intrailes I this Chissell threw,
Where as his Caule came out, for which I rue,
What hast thou don, I prethee looke quoth he,
Thou hast thy wish, for thou hast killed me.

When this was done the neighbours they ran in,
And to his bed they streight conveyed him:
Where he was drest and liv'd till morne next day,
Yet he forgave me and for me did pray.

No sooner was his breath from body fled,
But unto Newgate straight way they me led:
Where I did lie untill the Sizes came,
Which was before I there three daies had laine.

Mother in lawe, forgive me I you pray,
For I have made your onely childe away,
Even all you had; my selfe made husbandlesse,
My life and all cause [I] did so transgresse,

He nere did wrong to any in his life,
But he too much was wronged by his wife;
Then wives be warn'd example take by me.
Heavens graunt no more that such a one may be.

My judgement then it was pronounced plaine,
Because my dearest husband I had slaine:
In burning flames of fire I should fry,
Receive my soule sweet Jesus now I die.

T: Platte.
FINIS.

Composer of Ballad

T. Platte

Method of Punishment

burning

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Printing Location

Printed for Henry Gosson, and are to be solde/ at his shop on London bridge.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/870 <![CDATA[[...] Being a sad and true Relation of the Apprehension, Tryal, Confession, Condemnation, and Execution of the two barbarous and bloody Murtherers, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:54:45+11:00

Title

[...] Being a sad and true Relation of the Apprehension, Tryal, Confession, Condemnation, and Execution of the two barbarous and bloody Murtherers,

Subtitle

who basely and unawares killed a worthy Knight of the North Country as he was going down to the Waterside; not giving them the least abuse, for which cruel and inhumane action they were both hanged in Fleet-Street, near White-Fryers, 22 of Octo. 1675.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmar: Pepys Ballads 2.144; EBBA 20762

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Transcription

ALL hearts that ever yet did bleed,
For any barbarous cruel deed;
All tyey that ever yet did mourn,
Now into floods your sorrows turn:
No tongue such cruelty e're told,
As I to you shall here unfold;
If that my trembling Pen will write,
Or my astonish'd mind indite:

The Cry of blood will reach the skie,
And the bloody-thirsty man shall dye.

Of all the murthers which are known,
Compar'd to this I hear of none;
Those which such bloody acts commit,
Expect that they shall gain by it;
But these the Devil did engage
To murder in a furious rage;
No profit this base act could bring,
Nor no abuse did cause this thing,

The cry of blood, etc.

A worthy Knight out of the North,
O pitty 'twas he e're came forth;
To London came to see his Friends,
Not thinking he was nigh his end:
But back he never did return,
Which caus'd his own dear wife to mourn:
Sir Richard so they did him call,
Pray listen how he came to fall.

The cry of blood, etc.

He had now in his company,
One that did serve him formerly,
Who walk'd out with him up and down,
So long as he stay'd in the Town:
But as they walkt the streets one day,
They met two Persons as they say;
Of good extract, so that for shame,
I shall not dare to tell their name:

The cry of blood, etc.

The second Part, To the same Tune.

The man which was with th' Knight they knew,
Then to a Tavern they must go;
The Knight also to th' Tavern went,
Which made him sorely to repent:
But e're that they did make an end,
These Hectors quarrell'd with his friend,
'Twas in White-Fryers they did drink,
He little of his death did think.

The cry of blood, etc.

Sir Richard willing to appease,
And willing that their rage should cease,
The Reckoning paid as I hear say,
And with his friend did go away:
They were not gone but little space,
But the other two of little grace,
Did follow them, and at one blow,
Did run Sir Richards Body through

The cry of blood, etc.

he being dead they both did flye,
Thinking to shun their destiny;
But all in vain, in Bark-shire they
At Wallingford were forc'd to stay:
To Reding Goal they both were sent,
Such further mischief to prevent;
To New-Gate afterwards were brought,
To suffer for the deed they wrought.

The cry of blood, etc.

At the last Sessions they were try'd,
The bloody deed was not deny'd;
For which they sentenc'd were to dye,
A reward for impiety.
In Fleet-street neer White-Fryers end,
Being near the place they did offend;
They hanged were, which was their due,
Least further mischief they pursue.

The cry of blood, etc.

This was the Murderers just fate,
They both repent when 'twas too late;
Blood cries for vengeance which will come,
And give those bloody men their doom:
For if that such as those should live,
And not for death their death receive,
Those wretches would in fury great
Kill any man they met i'th' street.

The cry of blood, etc.

Let all men therefore have a care,
How that the Devil doth ensnare;
To act such barbarous deeds as those,
Not to the very worst of foes:
If they are wrong'd, the Law will find,
Redress according to their mind;
Which serves such actions to prevent,
Being order'd for the same intent.

The cry of blood, etc.

Let all that hear this be afraid,
And not by Satan be betraid;
For life is sweet, and now we see
Their fury was the death of three:
The Knight did die innocence,
They justly suffer'd for offence:
God grant that their repentance might,
Give to their Souls some sweet delight.

The cry of blood, etc.

Consider well all wicked men,
Fear God, repent, and surely then
He'l keep you from such hanious crimes,
Which rule too much in these our times:
Abstain high drinking, do not swear,
And of bad company be ware;
Seek not in quarrels to contend,
Then blest will be your latter end.

The cry of blood, etc.

Composer of Ballad

W. P.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Fleet Street near Whitefriars

Printing Location

Printed for John Hose, over against Stapels-Inn, in Holburn, near Grays-Inn-Lane.

Tune Data

Bleeding Heart is linked to In Crete, which is ultimately derived from Come follow my love (Simpson 1966, pp. 365, 374).
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/871 <![CDATA[Captain Johnson's Last Farewel to the World, ]]> 2021-03-26T09:57:48+11:00

Title

Captain Johnson's Last Farewel to the World,

Subtitle

who was executed at Tyburn, near London for being concened in stealing an Heirres.

Synopsis

Capt. Johnstons last farewell who was arraigned for being assisting in the stealing a young heiress, for which he received sentance of death, and was accordingly executed at Tyburn, the 23d. of this instant December, 1690. To the tune of Russel's farewel.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library - Roxburghe, Shelsmark: C.20.f.9.786-787; EBBA 31486; Variant in EEBO (institutional login required), see ballad pamplet images.

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Transcription

YOU noble Lords of high Degree, That see my dismal Doom;
Have some Regard, and pitty me, Who now, alas! am come
To die an ignominious Death, As it doth will appear;
While I declare, with my last Breath, The Laws are most severe.

In Scotland I was breed and born, Of noble Parents there;
Good Education did adorn My Life, I do declare:
No Crime did eer my Consciance stain, Till I adventurd here;
Thus have I Reason to complain, The Laws are most severe.

In Flanders I the French have facd, And likewise in Ireland
Still eagerly persued the Chase, With valiant Heart and Hand:
Why was I not in Battle slain; Rather then suffer here,
A Death, which Mortals do disdain, The Laws are most severe.

I did no Hurt, nor any Wrong, I solemnly protest;
But merely for to serve my Friend, I granted his Request;
To free his Lady out of Thrall, His Joy and only Dear;
And now my Life must pay for all, The Laws are most severe.

I coming from my Native Land, In this unhappy Time,
Alas! I did not understand The Nature of the Crime;
Therefore I soon did condescend, As it does well appear,
And find therein I did offend, The Laws are most severe.

In the same Lodging where I lay, And livd at Bed and Board,
My Landlord did my Life betray, For fifty Pounds reward;
Then being into Prison cast, Although with Conscience clear;
I was a arraigned at the last, The Laws are most severe.

The Lady will not hear my Moan, While dying Words I sent;
Her cruel Heart more hard than Stone, Would not the least relent;
But triumphing in my wretched State, As I die often here;
I fall here by the Hand of Fate, The Laws are most severe.

Will not my good and gracious King, Be merciful to me;
Is there not, in his Breast, a Spring, Of princely Clemency?
No, not for me, alas! I die, The Hour is drawing near,
To the last Minute I shall cry The Laws are most severe.

Farewel, dear Countrymen, said he, And this tumultuous Noise;
My Soul will soon transported be, To more Celestial Joys,
Tho in the Blossom of my Youth, Pale Death I do not fear;
For to the last, Ill speak the Truth, The Laws are most severe.

Alas! I have not long to live, And therefore now, said he,
All that wrongd me, I them forgive, As God shall pardon me:
My Landlord and subtle Wife, I do forgive them here;
Farewel, this transitory Life, The Laws are most severe.

Crime(s)

Assisting to steal an Heiress

Gender

Execution Location

Tyburn

Printing Location

Newcastle upon Tyne: Printed and Sold by JOHN WHITE.

Tune Data

Russel's Farewel; or, Monmonth's Lament.

Notes

SIR JOHN JOHNSTON was born at Kirkcaldy, in Fifeshire. His father had had a good estate, but had diminished it by extravagant living, so Sir John went young into the army to improve his fortune. He went over to Ireland, where he thought to better his circumstances by marriage; and getting into the acquaintance of a Mr Magrath, in the county of Clare, he, by his urbane conversation, so gained his good opinion, that he frequently invited him to dinner. Mr Magrath having a daughter, with ten thousand pounds as her portion, Sir John took every opportunity to insinuate himself into her company, and so far gained upon her affections as to obtain her consent to elope with him; but the father, having some hints given him of their private courtship, kept a very watchful eye over their actions, and at last, being confirmed in his suspicions, forbade Sir John his house, and kept his daughter close.

Miss Magrath being uneasy under her confinement, and deprived of the company of Sir John, whom she loved to distraction, made a kinswoman her confidante, and entrusted her with a letter to Sir John, to let him know how uneasy her life was, and that if he would come to such a place, at a stated time, she would endeavour to make her escape, and meet him. But the lady, thinking she should gain most by obliging her uncle, delivered the letter to him, instead of Sir John. Mr Magrath, having read it, sealed it up again, and sent it to Sir John, who received it with a great deal of satisfaction, and immediately wrote an answer, and returned it by the same messenger. But, repairing to the place of rendezvous, instead of meeting the lady, he fell into an ambuscade of fellows with sticks and clubs, who beat him so unmercifully that he promised to relinquish his pursuit.

Having been in London some time, and spent his money, he was obliged to apply to some of his countrymen for support; and Captain James Campbell, brother of the Earl of Argyll, having a design to steal an heiress, one Miss Mary Wharton, he and Mr Montgomery were assistants in the affair. Miss Wharton was the daughter of Philip Wharton, Esq., and at the age of thirteen, by his death, inherited fifteen hundred pounds per annum, besides a personal property to the amount of one thousand pounds. This young lady resided with her mother in Great Queen Street, and Captain James Campbell, brother of the Earl of Argyll, wishing to possess so rich a prize, determined to marry her perforce, and for that purpose prevailed upon Sir John Johnston and Archibald Montgomery to assist him in conveying Miss Wharton from her home, which being done, and a reward of a hundred pounds offered for the apprehension of Captain Campbell, and fifty pounds a-piece for him and Mr Montgomery. Sir John, being betrayed by his landlord, was apprehended and indicted for it, the 11th of December, 1690.

The evidence was, in substance, that Miss Mary Wharton, being an heiress of considerable fortune, and under the care of her guardian (Mr Bierly), was decoyed out on the 10th of November, and being met with by Sir John Johnston, Captain Campbell and Mr Montgomery, in Queen Street, was forced into a coach with six horses (appointed to wait there by Captain Campbell) and carried to the coachman's house, and there married to Captain Campbell, against the consent of herself, or knowledge of her guardian. The jury having found the prisoner guilty, he received sentence of death.

The enterprise succeeded but too well to Johnston's cost. Campbell, who was the real culprit, escaped punishment, and married Margaret Leslie, daughter of David Lord Newark, after Parliament had dissolved his first marriage; but every effort to save Johnston proved ineffectual. Miss Wharton afterwards married Colonel Bierly, who commanded a regiment of horse in the service of William III.

At the place of execution, Sir John addressed the spectators in a long speech, in which he not only endeavoured to make it appear he was blameless in the transaction for which he suffered, but that he had been greatly wronged by printed papers, in which he was charged with a rape at Chester, and a similar crime at Utrecht, in Holland. He was executed at Tyburn, the 23rd of December, 1690.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/872 <![CDATA[Caveat for Cut-purses.<br /> ]]> 2021-03-26T09:37:46+11:00

Title

Caveat for Cut-purses.

Subtitle

With a warning to all purse-carriers: Shewing the confi-
dence of the first, and the carelesnesse of the last; With necessary admonitions for them both, lest the Hangman get the one, and the Begger take the other. To the tune of, Packingtons pound.

Synopsis

A warning to the listener to beware of cutpurses - often sung while cutpurses would steal from unaware listeners of the ballad-singer. Ballad-singer asks not to be put in same category as thieves.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

British Library - Roxburghe, Shelfmark: C.20.f.8.46-47; EBBA 30274

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Transcription

MY Masters and friends and good people draw near and look to your purses, for that I do say.
And though little mony in them you do bear,
it cost more to get then to lose in a day: you oft have been told both the young and the Old, and bidden beware of of the Cut-purse so bold: Then if you take heed not, free me from the curse,
Who both give you warning, for and the Cut-purse.

Youth, youth thou hadst better been starvd by thy Nurse
Then live to be hangd for cutting a purse.

It hath been upbraided to men of my Trade, that oftentimes we are the cause of this crime,
Alack and for pitty, why should it be said? as if they regarded or places or time, Examples have been Or some that were seen of Westminster hall yea the pleaders between: Then why should the Judges be free from this curse,
More then my poor self is for cutting the Purse,

Youth youth, etc.

At Worster, tis known well and even in the Jale, a Knight of good worship did there shew his fa[ce] Against the foule sinners in zeale for to raile, and so lost, ipso facto, his purse in the place: Nay once from the Seat Of judgement so great a Judge there did lose a fair purse of Velvet, Oh Lord for thy mercy how wicked or worse
Are those that so venture their necks for a purse!

Youth youth, etc.

At Playes and at Sermons, and at the Sessions, tis daily their practice such booty to make, Yea under the Gallows at Executions, they stick not the stare-abouts purses to take. Nay one without grace At a better place at Court and in Christmas, before the Kings fa[ce.] Alack then for pitty must I bear the curse,
That only belong to the cunning Cut-purse.

Youth youth thou hadst better been starved by th[y Nurse]
Then live to be hangd for cutting a pu[rse.]

BUt oh! you vile Nation of Cutpurses all, Relent and repent, and amend and be sound,
And know that you ought not by honest mens fall advance your own fortunes to dye above ground.
And though you go gay In Silks as you may, It is not the highway to Heaven as they say,
Repent then repent you for better for worse
And kiss not the Gallows for cutting a purse,

Youth youth thou hadst better been starvd by thy Nurse
Then live to be hangd for cutting a purse.

The Players do tell you in Bartholmew Faire what secret consumptions and Rascals you are,
For one of their Actors it seems had the fate by some of your Trade to be fleeced of late, Then fall to your prayers You that are way-layers,
theyre fit to chouse all the world, that can cheat Players
For he hath the Art, and no man the worse,
Whose cunning can pilfer the pilferers purse.

Youth youth etc.

The plain Country man that coms staring to London if once you come near him he quickly is undone,
For when he amazedly gaz[e]th about one treads on his toes, an[d] the other pulst out, Then in a strange place Where he knows no face, his mony is gone tis a pittiful case.
The Divel of hell in his trade is not worse
Then Gilter, and Diver, and Cutter of purse,
Youth etc.

The poor servant maid wears her purse in her placket
A place of quick feeling and yet you can take it,
Nor is she aware that you have done the feat
Untill she is going to pay for her meat. Then she cryes and rages Amongst her Baggages, and swears at one thrust she hath lost all her wa-ges
For she is ingaged her own to disburse,
To make good the breach of the cruel Cut-purse
Youth etc.

Your eyes and your fingers are nimble of growth.
But Dun many times he hath been nimbler then both
Yet you are deceived by many a slut,
But the Hang-man is only the Cut-purses cut, It makes you to vex When he bridles your necks and then at the last what becomes of your tricks
But when you should pray, you begin for to curse
The hand that first shewd you to slash at a purse,
Youth, etc.

But now to my hearers this Counsel I give,
And pray friends remember it as long as you live,
Bring out no more cash in purse pocket or wallet,
Then one single penny to pay for the Ballet, For Cut-purse doth shrowd Himself in a Cloud, theres many a purse hath been lost in a crowd
For hes the most rogue that doth crowd up & curses
Who first cryes my Masters beware of your purses.
Oh youth thou hadst better been starvd by thy Nurse
Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

stealing

Gender

Printing Location

Printed for W. Gilbertson.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/873 <![CDATA[Certayne versis writtene by Thomas Brooke Gentleman<br /> ]]> 2020-01-08T14:55:54+11:00

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.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/874 <![CDATA[Constance of Cleveland. ]]> 2020-01-08T14:56:09+11:00

Title

Constance of Cleveland.

Subtitle

A very excellent Sonnet of the most faire Lady Constance of Cleveland and her disloyall Knight. To the tune of Crimson Velvet.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballads 1.138-139 (EEBO has 3 other editions: BL 1660, BL 1675, Beinecke 1655-80); EBBA 20060

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Crimson Velvet

Transcription

IT was a youthfull Knight, lov'd a gallant Lady,
Faire she was and bright, and of vertues rare:
Her selfe she did behave so courteously as may be,
Wedded were they brave, joy without compare.
Here began the griefe,
Paine without reliefe, her husband soone her love forsooke,
To women lewd of mind
Being bad inclin'd, he onely lent a pleasant looke:
The Lady she sate weeping,
While that he was keeping company with others moe:
Her words, my Love, believe not,
Come to me and grieve not,
Wantons will thee overthrow.

His faire Ladies words
nothing he regarded,
Wantonnesse affords such delightfull sport:
While they dance and sing, with great mirth prepared,
She her hands did wring in most grievous s[oo]rt.
Oh what hap had I
Thus to waile and cry, unrespected every day:
Living in disdaine,
While that others gaine all the right I should enjoy?
I am left forsaken,
Others they are taken, ah my Love, why dost thou so?
Her flatteries beleeve not, etc.

The Knight with his faire Piece, at length his Lady spied,
Who did him daily fleece of his wealth and store:
Secretly she stood, while she her fashions tried,
With a patient mood, while deepe the Strumpet swore:
O sir Knight, quoth she,
So dearely I love thee, my life doth rest at thy dispose,
By day and eke by night,
For thy sweet delight, thou shalt me in thy armes disclose.
I am thine owne for ever,
Still will I persever true to thee where ere I goe.
Her flatteries beleeve not, etc.

The vertuous Lady mild enters then among them,
Being big with child, as ever she might be.
With distilling teares she looked then upon them,
Filled full of feares, thus replied she:
Ah my Love and Deare,
Wherefore stay you here, refusing me your loving wife,
For an Harlots sake,
Which each one will take, whose vile deeds provoke much strife:
Many can accuse her,
O my Love refuse her, with thy Lady home returne:
Her flatteries beleeve not,
Come to me and grieve not, etc.

All in fury then the angry Knight upstarted
Very furious, when he heard his Ladies speech:
With many bitter termes his wife he overthwarted,
Using hard extremes, while she did him beseech.
From her necke so white,
He tooke away in spight her curious chaine of finest gold,
Her Jewels and her Rings,
And all such costly things, as he about her did behold.
The Harlot in her presence,
He did gently reverence, and to her he gave them all
He sent away his Lady,
Full of woe as may be, who in a sound with griefe did fall.

The second part, To the same tune.

AT his Ladies wrong
the Harlot fleer'd and laughed,
Inticements are so strong, they over-come the wife:
The Knight nothing regarded, to see the Lady scoffed,
This was her reward, for her enterprise.
The Harlot all this space
Did him oft imbrace, she flatters him, and thus doth say,
For thee Ile die and live,
For thee my faith Ile give, no woe shall work my Loves decay.
Thou shalt be my treasure,
Thou shalt be my pleasure, thou shalt be my hearts delight:
I will be thy darling,
I will be thy worldling, in despight of Fortunes spight.

Thus he did remaine in wastfull great expences,
Till it bred his paine, and consum'd him quite:
When his Lands were spent, troubled in his senses,
Then he did repent this his lewd delight:
For reliefe he hies,
For reliefe he flies, to them on whom he spent his gold,
They doe him deny,
They doe him defie, they will not once his face behold.
Being thus distressed,
Being thus oppressed, in the fields that night he lay,
Which the Harlot knowing,
Through her malice growing, sought to take his life away.

A young and proper Lad, they had slaine in secret,
For the gold he had: whom they did convey,
By a Ruffian lewd, to that place directly,
Where that youthfull Knight fast a sleeping lay:
The bloody dagger than,
Wherewith they kill'd the man, hard by the Knight he likewise laid,
Sprinkling him with blood,
As he thought it good,
and then no longer there he staid.
The Knight being so abused,
Was forthwith accused for this murther which was done,
And he was condemned,
That had not offended, shamefull death he might not shun.

When the Lady bright understood the matter,
That her wedded Knight was condemn'd to die,
To the King she went with all the speed that might be,
Where she did lament her hard destiny:
Noble King, quoth she,
Pitty take on me, and pardon my poore husbands life,
Else I am undone,
With my little son, let mercy mitigate this griefe.
Lady faire, content thee,
Soone thou wouldst repent thee, if he should be saved so:
Sore he hath abus'd thee,
Sore he hath misus'd thee, therefore Lady let him goe.

O my Liege, quoth she, grant your gracious favor,
Deare he is to me, though he did me wrong:
The King repli'd againe, with a sterne behaviour,
A Subject hee hath slaine, die he shall ere long,
Except thou canst find
Any one so kind, that will die and set him free.
Noble King, she said,
Glad am I apaid, the same person will I bee,
I will suffer duely,
I will suffer truely,
for my Love and husbands sake.
The King therefore amazed,
Though he her duty praised, he bade that thence he should her take.

It was the Kings command, on the morrow after,
She should out of hand, to the Scaffold goe:
Her husband pointed was, to beare the sword before her,
He must eke alas, give the deadly blow:
He refus'd the deed,
Shee bade him proceed, with a thousand kisses sweet.
In this wofull case,
They did both imbrace which mov'd the Ruffian in that place
Straight for to discover
This concealed murther, whereby the Lady saved was,
The Harlot then was hanged,
As shee well deserved,
this [did v]ertue bring to passe.

FINIS.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Printing Location

Printed at London for I. Wright.

Tune Data

Crimson Velvet first appeared in 1596 (Simpson 1966, pp. 141-142).

Notes

invented story?
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/875 <![CDATA[CRIMINALS CRUELTY. ]]> 2021-06-11T14:58:17+10:00

Title

CRIMINALS CRUELTY.

Subtitle

Giving a Just and true Account of one Iohn Wise, who together with Richard Iones, and Charles Tooley yet untaken, did one Sunday night being the twentieth of April, commit that Barbarous and Unnatural Murther on Elizabeth Fairbank, Widdow, who lived in a Seller, at Picadilly, that Robbed and Rifled her, being of Money and Plate, and Rings, for which fact Iohn Wise at present was found guilty, and accordingly received the due Sentance of Death, the which was Executed on Friday, the 17tnth, of this instant October, 1684. at PICKADILLY.

Synopsis

Three men, John Wise, Richard Jones, and Charles Tooley rob a widow and murder her; Jones and Tooley go on the run the next day but Wise is arrested. Tooley confesses on his deathbed, which his wife reveals and the other two are then punished. The last two stanzas are in Wise's voice.

Digital Object


Image notice

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

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Pepys Ballads 2.153; EBBA 20771. Audio recording by Molly McKew.

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Transcription

O H! this would make a stony heart Lament,
That men should be so vild and insolent:
They will proceed in their unlawful trade,
Though many still are sad examples made.

They'l Rob, and will defraud men of their due
Not fearing any thing that will ensue:
And in A Pitious course of Life run on,
Contrary to the Law of God and man.

Thus do they work their wits both night and day,
Still to contrive how they may work their prey:
Their wills are working to a base intent,
But yet at last too late they may repent.

When people by their care doth something save,
They'l Rob them of their lives for what they have:
This is the highest act of Villany,
Their guiltless blood it will for Vengeance cry.

Alas, that any Murther should lye hid,
From true Discovery, the Lord forbid:
Though they commit it ne'r so secretly,
They cannot hide from Gods all-seeing-eye.

Last April the twentieth day at night,
Those Villains did commit a sad Exploit:
Three Criminals together they agreed,
And did commit a Murther there indeed--

The Widdow Fairbank as it's known full well,
She in a Cellar all alone did dwell:
To whom those Villains went without delay,
And of her life and goods they made their pray.

They with a Hankerchief did stop her breath,
They also broke her neck, thus wrought her death;
They robbed her, and then away they fled,
And leaving of her murthered on the Bed.

At length it seems one coming down that night,
Where they beheld this sad and dismal sight,
Undoubtedly it did them much surprize,
To see this sudden change before their eyes.

Those Criminals made their escape away,
That night to Westminster without delay:
Then Richard Jones, Charls Tooley, and John Wise,
Among them they did share that fatal prize.

Next day they were in a most wooful case,
Their very Conscience flying in their face,
When Jones and Tooley thought of what they'd done
They were possest with fear, and forc'd to run.

But Wise was taken, and in Prison cast,
And Tooleys wife returned again at last:
Then all their Villany was open laid,
By what her Husband on his Death-bed said.

Thus may we see, how Murthers are found out
By what strange means it may be brought about:
For God who is the Righteous Judge of all,
Such Criminals he will to Justice call.

Wise was Arraigned, in process of time,
And was found Guilty of this cruel Crime:
He then received Sentence for to dye,
The Just reward of this his Cruelty.

Now may this grieve some hundreds for to see,
That he deserv'd to dye so shamefully:
O that his death may now a warning be,
To every one of high or low degree.

All you that sees or hears my fatal end,
Observe my words, to you a dying friend:
In evil Courses never take delight,
It is the ready Rode to ruine quite.

I do Repent that e're I run astray,
I might have lived many a happy day:
My Wicked life has hastned death more soon,
And now my Morning Sun goes down at Noon.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

robbery, murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Piccadilly

Printing Location

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guiltspur-street,/ without Newgate.

Tune Data

Fortune my foe, is also known as, Aim not too high
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/876 <![CDATA[Damnable Practises Of three Lincolne-shire Witches, ]]> 2021-06-12T12:04:14+10:00

Title

Damnable Practises Of three Lincolne-shire Witches,

Subtitle

Joane Flower, and her two Daughters, Margret and Phillip Flower, against Henry Lord Rosse, with others the Children of the Right Honourable the Earle of Rutland, at Beaver Castle, who for the same were executed at Lincolne the 11. of March last. To the tune of the Ladies fall.

Synopsis

The story of the Belvoir Witches, Joan Flower and her daughters Margaret and Philip, convicted in 1619 of killing the children of a noble family through witchcraft. The ballad conforms to English stereotypes of witches: a trio of women who consort with familiars and who take revenge for imagined slights.

Digital Object


Image notice

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

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballads 1.132-133; EBBA 20058. Prose pamphlet - EEBO (institutional login required). Audio recording by Molly McKew. 

Set to tune of...

Transcription

OF damned deeds, and deadly dole, I make my mournfull song,
By Witches done in Lincolne-shire, where they have lived long:
And practisd many a wicked deed, within that Country there,
Which fills my brest and bosome full, of sobs, and trembling feare.

[O]ne Beaver Castle is a place, that welcome gives to all,
[B]y which the Earle of Rutland gaines the loves of great and small:
[His] Countesse of like friendlinesse, [Do]th beare as free a mind:
[Al]so from them both rich and poore, [?] helps and succour find.

[Am]ongst the rest were Witches three, [th]at to this Castle came,
[...]Margaret and Phillip Flower, [An]d Joane their Mothers name:
[Whi]ch Women dayly found reliefe, [and] were contented well:
[Th]at the last this Margret was, [rec]eived there to dwell.

[...]oke unto such houshold charge, [...] unto her belongd,
[...] she possest with fraud and guile, [he]r place and office wrongd,
[...] [s]ecretly purloyned things [t]o her mother home:
[...] unlawfull howers from thence, [d]id nightly goe and come.

[...]en the Earle & Countesse heard, [...]r dealings knew,
[...]ved much that she should prove, [...] so untrue.
And so discharg'd her of the house, therein to come no more:
For of heer lewd and filching prankes, of proofes there were some store.

And likewise that her Mother was, a woman full of wrath,
A swearing and blaspheming wretch, forespeaking sodaine death:
And how that neighbours in her lookes, malitious signes did see:
And some affirm'd she dealt with Sprits, and so a Witch might be.

And that her Sister Phillip was well knowne a Strumpet lewd,
And how she had a young mans love, bewitched and subdued,
Which made the young man often say, he had no power to leave
Her curst inticing company, that did him so deceave.

When to the Earle and Countesse thus, these just complaints were made,
Their hearts began to breed dislike, and greatly grew affraid:
Commanding that she never should, returne unto their sight,
Nor back into the Castle come, but be excluded quite.

Whereat the old malitious feend, with these her darlings thought:
The Earle and Countesse them disgrac't, and their discredits wrought:
In turning thus despightfully, her daughter out of dores,
For which revengement, in her mind she many a mischiefe stores.

Heereat the Divell made entrance in,his Kingdome to inlarge.
And puts his executing wrath, unto these womens charge:
Not caring whom it lighted on, the Innocent or no,
And offered them his diligence, to flye, to run, and goe.

And to attend in pretty formes, of Dog, of Cat, or Rat,
To which they freely gave consent, and much rejoyc't thereat:
And as it seemd they sould their soules, for service of such Spirits,
And sealing it with drops of blood, damnation so inherits.

These Women thus being Divels growne most cunning in their Arts:
With charmes and with inchanting spells, they plaid most damned parts:
They did forespeake, and Cattle kild, that neighbours could not thrive,
And oftentimes their Children young, of life they would deprive.

At length the Countess and her Lord, to fits of sickness grew:
The which they deemd the hand of God, and their corrections due:
Which crosses patiently they bore, misdoubting no such deede,
As from these wicked Witches heere, malitiously proceeds.

Yet so their mallice more increast, that mischiefe set in foote,
To blast the branches of that house, and undermine the roote:
Their eldest sonne Henry Lord Rosse, possest with sicknesse strange,
Did lingring, lye tormented long, till death his life did change.

Their second sonne Lord Francis next, felt like continuing woe:
Both day and night in grievous sort, yet none the cause did know:
And then the Lady Katherin, into such torments fell:
By these their devilish practises, as grieves my heart to tell.

The second Part. To the same tune.

YEt did this noble minded Earle, so patiently it beare:
As if his childrens punishments, right natures troubles were:
Suspecting little, that such meanes, against them should be wrought,
Untill it pleas'd the Lord to have to light these mischiefes brought.

For greatly here the hand of God, did worke in justice cause:
When he for these their practises them all in question drawes.
And so before the Magistrates, when as the yongest came,
Who being guilty of the fact confest and tould the same.

How that her mother and her selfe, and sister gave consent:
To give the Countesse and her Lord, occasions to repent
That ere they turnd her out of dores, in such vile disgrace:
For which, or them or theirs should be, brought into heavy case.

And how her sister found a time, Lord Rosses glove to take:
Who gave it to her mothers hand consuming spels to make.
The which she prickt all full of holes, and layd it deepe in ground:
Whereas it rotted, so should he, be quite away consum'd.

All which her elder sister did, acknowledge to be true:
And how that she in boyling blood, did oft the same imbrew,
And hereupon the yong Lord Rosse, such torments did abide:
That strangely he consum'd away, untill the houre he died.

And likewise she confest how they, together all agreed:
Against the children of this Earle, to practise and proceed.
Not leaving them a child alive, and never to have more:
If witchcraft so could doe, because, they turnd them out of dore.

The mother as the daughters told, could hardly this deny:
For which they were attached all, by Justice speedily.
And unto Lincolne Citty borne, therein to lye in Jayle:
Untill the Judging Sizes came, that death might be their bayle.

But there this hatefull mother witch, these speeches did recall:
And said that in Lord Rosses death, she had no hand at all.
Whereon she bread and butter tooke, God let this same (quoth she)
If I be guilty of his death, passe never thorough me.

So mumbling it within her mouth, she never spake more words:
But fell downe dead, a judgment just and wonder of the Lords.
Her Daughters two their tryalls had, of which being guilty found,
They dyed in shame, by strangling twist, and layd by shame in the ground.

Have mercy Heaven, on sinners all, and grant that never like
Be in this Nation knowne or done, but Lord in vengeance strike:
Or else convert their wicked lives which in bad wayes are spent:
The feares of God and love of heaven, such courses will prevent.
FINIS.

Method of Punishment

strangling

Crime(s)

witchcraft

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Lincoln

Printing Location

Printed by G. Eld. for John Barnes, dwelling in the long Walke neere Christ-Church, 1619.

Tune Data

The Ladies Fall, is also known as, In Peascod Time
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/877 <![CDATA[DEVOL's last Farewel: ]]> 2020-01-08T14:58:44+11:00

Title

DEVOL's last Farewel:

Subtitle

Containing an Account of many frolicksom Intreigues and notorious Robberies, which he committed: Concluding vvith his mournful Lamentation, on the Day of his Death.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

University of Glasgow Library - Euing, Shelfmark: Euing Ballads 77; EBBA 31760

Set to tune of...

Chloris, Since Thou Art Fled Away

Transcription

YOu bold undaunted Souls attend
To me, who did the Laws offend;
For now I come to let you know
What provd my fatal overthrow,
And brought my Glory to decay;
it was my Gang, for whom I hang,
Well-a-day, well-a-day.

Unto a Duke I was a Page,
And succourd in my tender Age,
Until the Devil did me intice,
To leave of Vertue, and follow Vice;
No sooner was I led astray,
but Wickedness, did me possess,
Well-a-day, well-a-day.

If I my Crimes to mind shoud call,
And lay them down before you all,
They would amount to such a Sum,
That there is few in Christendom,
So many wanton Pranks did play;
but now too late, I mourn my fate,
Well-a-day, well-a-day.

Upon the Road, I do declare,
I causd some Lords and Ladies fair,
To quit their Coach, and dance with us;
This being done, the Case was thus,
They for their Musick needs must pay;
but now at last, those Joaks are past,
Well-a-day, well-a-day.

Another time, I and my Gang,
We fell upon a Noble-man;
In spite of all that he could do,
We took his Gold and Silver too
And with the same we rid away;
but being took, for death I look,
Well-a-day, well-a-day.

When I was mounted on my Steed,
I thought myself a Man indeed;
With Pistol cockd and glittering Sword,
Stand and deliver, was the word,
Which makes me now lament and say,
pity the Fall of great Devol,
Well-a-day, well-a-day.

I did belong unto a Crew,
Of as swaggering Blades as ever drew,
Stout Whitherington and Dowglis both,
We were all three engagd by Oath,
Upon the Road to take our way;
but now Devol, must pay for all,
Well-a-day, etc.

Because I was a Frenchman born,
Some Persons treated me with scorn;
But being of a daring Soul,
Although my Deeds was something foul
My gaudy Plumes I did display,
but now my Pride, is laid aside,
Well-a-day, etc.

I reignd with an undaunted mind
Some years, but now at last I find,
The Pitcher that so often goes
Unto the Well, as Proverb shows,
Comes broken home at last we say;
for now I see, my Destiny,
Well-a-day, etc.

Then being brought to Justice-hall,
Tryd and condemnd before them all;
Where many noble Lords did come,
And Ladies for to hear my Doom,
Then Sentence passd, without delay,
the Halter fast, and Tybourn last,
In one Day, in one Day.

Printing Location

London: Printed for C. Bates, in Pye-co[rner]

Tune Data

Chloris, Since Thou Art Fled Away, is also known as Upon the Chnnge.

Notes

Wikipedia: Claude Du Vall (1643 - 21 January 1670) was a French-born gentleman highwayman in post-Restoration Britain.

Du Val was born in Domfront, Orne, Normandy in 1643 to a noble family stripped of title and land. His origin and parentage are in dispute. He did however have a brother Daniel Du Val. At the age of 14 he was sent to Paris where he worked as a domestic servant. He later became a stable boy for a group of English royalists and moved to England in the time of the English Restoration as a footman of the Duke of Richmond (possibly a relation) and rented a house in Wokingham. 

Before long Du Val became a successful highwayman who robbed the passing stagecoaches in the roads to London, especially Holloway between Highgate and Islington. However, unlike most other brigands, he distinguished himself with rather gentlemanly behaviour and fashionable clothes. He reputedly never used violence. One of his victims was squire Roper, Master of the Royal Buckhounds, whom he relieved of 50 guineas and tied to a tree. There are many tales about Du Val. One particularly famous one - placed in more than one location and later published by William Pope - claims that he took only a part of his potential loot from a gentleman when his wife agreed to dance with him in the wayside, a scene immortalised by William Powell Frith in his 1860 painting Claude Du Val. If his intention was to deter pursuit by his non-threatening behaviour, he did not totally succeed. After the authorities promised a large reward, he fled to France for some time but returned a few months later. Shortly afterwards he was arrested in the Hole-in-the-Wall tavern in London's Chandos Street, Covent Garden.

On 17 January 1670, judge Sir William Morton found him guilty of six robberies (others remained unproven) and sentenced him to death. Despite many attempts to intercede, the king did not pardon him and he was executed on 21 January at Tyburn. When his body was cut down and exhibited in Tangier Tavern, it drew a large crowd and was later removed to St Paul's church, Covent Garden, where it was buried under the centre aisle.

His memorial inscription reads:
Here lies DuVall: Reder, if male thou art,
Look to thy purse; if female, to thy heart.
Much havoc has he made of both; for all
Men he made to stand, and women he made to fall
The second Conqueror of the Norman race,
Knights to his arm did yield, and ladies to his face.
Old Tyburn's glory; England's illustrious Thief,
Du Vall, the ladies' joy; Du Vall, the ladies' grief.

The apparently gallant highwayman inspired a number of biographers and playwrights to add to his legend, including claims of alchemy, gambling, and much womanising. He is reported to haunt the Holt Hotel along the A4260 (Oxford Road) in Oxfordshire, a hotel where he spent many nights when it was a small coaching inn.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/878 <![CDATA[Execution of the Purfleet Murderer]]> 2020-01-08T14:25:21+11:00

Title

Execution of the Purfleet Murderer

Synopsis

Richard Coates, a military schoolmaster at an establishment for the education of the children of soldiers at Purfleet Garrison, Essex, is convicted of the murder of Alice Boughen, aged six, in 1875.
He beat her to death after attempting to violate her. He killed the child in a school closet then carried her body down to a riverbank, intending to throw it into the water. He was unable to lift it over a railing near the river and returned to the school. He was seen carrying the body back and was arrested. He confessed his guilt in the condemned cell and blamed it on drink. Executed 29 March 1875, Springfield Prison Chelmsford. Executioner was William Marwood.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Bodleian Library, University of Oxford, Shelfmark: Harding B 14(184); Bodleian Ballads Online Bod14517

Set to tune of...

Transcription

Richard Coates, that cruel murderer,
Now is cold within his grave,
None could show him any pity,
None stretch forth a hand to save;
His horrid crime was so unmanly,
I'm sure we no excuse could give.
He did disgrace our gallant soldiers,
And he was not fit to live.

CHORUS
Richard Coates, the Purfleet murderer,
On Easter Monday met his doom;
He killed the soldier's little daughter,
Now he's dead and in his tomb.

For the murder of poor Alice Bougham
He justly was condemned to die,
For a murder so outrageous,
The country for his death did cry;
You never heard or ever read of
Such treatment to a little child,
Altho' so innocent and so loving,
Cruelly murdered and defiled.

A full confession of the murder
To the chaplain he has made,
He has told the truth to those around him,
For which his poor old mother prayed;
He took his victim to the closet,
Frightful was his conduct there,
He took her life in a cruel manner,
Before his death he did declare.

He tried to throw his victim's body
Over the pailings in the sea,
The fence was high, he could not do it,
It was ordained it should not be;
Could he have thrown her in the water,
And the tide have carried her away, ,
The murder of the soldier's daughter
Would not have been found out to-day.

He might have done well in the army,
In the barracks he was born,
Alas! he has disgraced his father,
Who the uniform has worn;
Heaven help his poor old mother,
She has been a true good soldier's wife,
She would sooner have seen him shot in action,
Than in such a way to lose his life.

Then let us all now take a warning
By his sad and fearful end,
Don't give way to unholy passion,
Nor against the laws offend;
Try to be honest and be sober,
I'm sure you'll find it is the best,
In the world let's do our duty,
As we hope in heaven to rest.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

rape, murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Springfield Prison Chelmsford

Printing Location

Preston : Harkness, J.

Tune Data

Composer of Tune: George F. Root (1820-1895)
Date tune first appeared: 1864
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/879 <![CDATA[Execution of the Purfleet murderer at Springfield gaol]]> 2020-01-08T14:25:20+11:00

Title

Execution of the Purfleet murderer at Springfield gaol

Synopsis

Richard Coates, a military schoolmaster at an establishment for the education of the children of soldiers at Purfleet Garrison, Essex, is convicted of the murder of Alice Boughen, aged six, in 1875. He beat her to death after attempting to violate her. He killed the child in a school closet then carried her body down to a riverbank, intending to throw it into the water. He was unable to lift it over a railing near the river and returned to the school. He was seen carrying the body back and was arrested. He confessed his guilt in the condemned cell and blamed it on drink. Executed 29 March 1875, Springfield Prison Chelmsford. Executioner was William Marwood.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Bodleian Library, University of Oxford, Shelfmark: Harding B 14(183); Bodleian Ballads Online Bod14516

Set to tune of...

Driven From Home

Transcription

Upon Easter Monday within Chelmsford gaol,
A murderer, when dying, his crime doth bewail,
Upon the dark scaffold he drew his last breath,
The penalty of murder he paid with his death.
Richard Coates was his name, by Satan beguiled,
He outraged so cruel a dear little child,
And all through the country it has been the cry,
His sentence was just, he deserved to die.
CHORUS
Gone from this life, gone from the world,
By the hands of the hangman to Eternity hurled,
May heaven forgive him, is all we can say,
As we hope for forgiveness on our dying day.

There never was known such a cowardly crime,
That we are relating at this present time.
It is dreadful to think there could be a man,
W[?]om,[?] is senses this murder could plan.
He pleaded 'not guilty' almost to the last,
Till he saw all the chance of forgiveness was past.
His poor mother begg'd him the truth to unfold,
And confess to his crime for the sake of his soul.
CHORUS
He took the poor child to the closet, [?]
Innocent and smiling to her death she [?]
He murdered her there at at he bottom of [?] field,
And beneath his great coat her dead body conceal'd,
He went to the edge of the wide rolling sea,
To throw the child in but it was not to be,
Tho' time after time the villain did try,
He could not reach over the pailings so high.

When he found that his crime he could not conceal,
He left the child's body 'neath the grass in the field,
Where the dear little angel soon after was found,
By those who so long had been searching around.
They seized him and ask'd him the crime to explain,
He cried 'I'm not guilty' again and again;
They could not believe him in spite of denial,
They sent him to gaol to wait for his trial.

As he walked from the cell through the sweet morning air,
At the end of the prison the gallows was there,
Twas the last time h'ed gaze on that beautiful sky,
As he walked to the spot where he knew he must die.
The [?] was ready, deep sounded the bell,
Twas scarcely a moment before the drop fell,
The murderer, Coates, from the world he was torn,
His body was there, but his dear life was gone.

May his fate be a warning to both old and young,
May it be an example to everyone,
From the straight path of duty never to stray,
Or we shall regret it on our dying day.
The murderer now is gone from this world,
By [?] folly to destruction is hurled,
Then pray let us all to this warning attend,
And may Heaven preserve us from his fearful den.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

murder, rape

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Springfield Prison, Chelmsford

Printing Location

Preston : Harkness, J.

Tune Data

Composer: William Shakespeare Hays (1837-1907)
Date tune first appeared: 1868
Link: Public Domain Music
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/880 <![CDATA[Iohn Spenser a Chesshire Gallant, ]]> 2021-02-23T16:37:51+11:00

Title

Iohn Spenser a Chesshire Gallant,

Subtitle

his life and repentance, who for killing of one Randall Gam: was lately executed at Burford a mile from Nantwich. To the tune of in Slumbring Sleepe.

Synopsis

John Spenser in a drunken rage, hits Randall Gam who dies from his injuries seven weeks later. Gam has many supporters who succeed in having Spenser convicted of murder and hanged in chains.

Digital Object


Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College - Pepys Library, Shelfmark: Pepys Ballads 1.114; EBBA 20047

Set to tune of...

Slumbring Sleepe, which is also known as Rogero

Transcription

Kind hearted men, a while give eare
and [plainely] Ile unfold
The sadd[est tale that] ever yet,
by mortal man was told.
One Spenser brave, of Cheshire chiefe,
for men of brave rega[rd]e:
Yet hee unto his Countries griefe,
did good with ill reward.

At Acton, neere Nantwich was borne
this man, so famde of all;
Whose skill at each brave exercise,
was not accounted small:
For beating of the war-like Drumme,
no man could him surpasse:
For dauncing, leaping, and such like,
in Cheshire never was.

For shooting none durst him oppose,
hee would ayme so faire and right;
Yet long he shot in crooked Bowes,
and could not hit the white:
For striving still more things to learne,
the more he grew beloved;
No Shomaker but Spenser brave,
by women was so prooved.

Those qualities did draw his minde,
from reason quite and cleane,
And vildly hee'd forsake his wife,
for the love of every Queane:
By Women he maintayned was
in parill fine and brave,
John Spenser could no good thing want,
for he could but aske, and have.

In Silkes and Sattins would he goe,
none might with him compare;
No fashion might devised be,
but his should be as faire;
When as (God knowes) his wife at home
should pine with hungry griefe,
And none[wo]uld pitty her hard case,
or lend her some reliefe.

Whilst hee abroad did flaunt it out
amongst his lustfull Queanes,
Poore soule of force she sits at home,
without either helpe or meanes.
Thus long he lived basely vild,
[containd] of all thats good,
Till at the last of hard mischance,
he did shead Giltlesse Blood.

One Randall Gam being drunke,
with Spenser out did fall:
And he being apt to Quarilling,
would not be rul'd at all.
Bout about the Pledging of a Glasse,
to which he would not yeeld,
He vowed he either would be pledg'd
or answered fayre in field.

This answer Randall Gam did deny,
which Spencer plainly found,
And being rag'd he strucke on blow,
feld Randal gam to the ground.
Seven weekes upon this he lay,
ere life from him did part:
And at the last to earth and clay,
his Body did convert.

Then Spenser was in prison cast
his friends full farre did ly,
For frindship in them proved cold,
and none would come him nie.
That man being kild, beloved was well
of all men farre and neare,
And some did follow Law so farre,
did cost poore Spenser deare.

For though he kild him by mischance,
yet Law him so disdaines.
That for his unrespected blow,
he there was hangd in Chaines.
He that was kild, had many friends,
the other few or none,
Therefore the Law, on that side went,
and the other was orethrone.

He being dead, two Milke white Doves,
did hover over his head,
And would not leave that hartlesse place,
after he three howers was dead.
Two mile white Butterflies did light,
upon his Breches there:
And stood Confronting peoples sight,
to their amase and feare.

Though he was vildly bent in life,
and hangd the Law to quit;
Yet he was stolne away by his wife,
and Buryed in the night.
His true repentance is exprest,
within the second part:
With all his Gilt he hath confest,
when troubled was his heart.

FINIS. by Thomas Dickerson

Kind Youngmen all to mee give eare,
observe these lessons well;
For undeserved my death I tooke,
and said is the tale I tell.
I prisoned pent, I lie full fast,
sure Heaven hath decreed:
That though I thrived, yet at last,
bad fortunes should proceed.

I that for practise passed all,
in exercises strong,
Have heere for one offence but small.
been pent in Prison long.
Kind Countrymen, faire warning take,
beeing bad, amend your lives,
For sure Heaven will them forsake,
that doe forsake their wives.

I have a wife, a loving wife,
a constant, and a kind;
Yet proud of gifts, I turnd my life,
and falce she did me find:
Heaven shewed his part in making me,
proper in limbes and face,
Yet of it I no true use made,
but reapt thereby disgrace,

For being proud in dancings art,
most womens loves I gayne:
By them a long time was my life
in gallant sort maintaynd:
No Mayden young, about the towne,
but joyfull was to see
The face of Spenser and would spend,
all for to daunce with mee.

I spent my time in Ryoting,
and proudly led my life,
I had my choyce of damsels fayre,
what card I for my wife,
If once she came to intreat me home,
i'd kick her out of doors,
Indeed I would be ruld by none,
but by intising whore.

At length being pledging of a Glasse,
my hopes I did confound:
And in my rag I feld my friend,
with one blow to the ground.
For this offence, he being dead,
and I in Prison cast;
Most voyd of hopes this rashing hand
hath Spensers name disgrast.

None but my wife will visit me,
for those I lov'd before,
Being in this sad extremytie,
will visit me no more,
No helpe I find from these false friends,
no food to inrich my life:
Now doe I find the difference true,
twixt them and a constant wife

But she poore soule, by my bad meanes,
is quit bereft of all:
She playes the part of a Constant wife,
although her helpes be small.
Young men, youngmen, take heed by me
shun Dangers, Brawles, and Strife:
For though he fell against my will,
I for it loose my life.

O live like men and not like me,
of no good giftes be proud:
For if with you God angry be,
from his vengeance nought can shroud.
Make use of what you have practis'd well.
and not in vitious meanes,
If in rare gifts you do excell,
yet trust not Vitious Queanes.

For lust doth fully fill their Vaynes,
and apt they be to intise:
O therefore shunne their company,
like good men still be wise.
Example truely take of me,
all Vitious courses shunne:
For onely by bad company,
poore Spenser is undone.

FINIS. by John Spenser.

Composer of Ballad

Thomas Dickerson

Method of Punishment

hanging in chains

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Execution Location

Burford, near Nantwich

Printing Location

Imprinted at London for I. [John] Trundle
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/881 <![CDATA[Kevin Barry]]> 2021-03-26T09:42:56+11:00

Title

Kevin Barry

Synopsis

Kevin Barry was 18 years old when he was hanged in Mountjoy Jail on November 1st 1920. His death at such a young age is possibly the most poignant in recent Irish history.

He was born in 1902 in Dublin and grew up both in the capital and in County Carlow. He enrolled in Belvedere College in 1916 and joined the Irish Volunteers, a nationalist organisation. In 1919 he enrolled in Dublin University to study medicine. The Michael Collins led War of Independence was developing and Barry, as Section Commander, played his part in various raids around Dublin city.

On September 20th 1920 he took part in one such raid that went badly wrong. A street gun battle ensued and three British soldiers were killed. This was very significant in that these were the first British soldier deaths in Ireland since the 1916 Easter Rising led by Pearse and Connolly. Barry hid under a truck as the British searched for him but was discovered when a passer-by, concerned for his safety underneath the huge vehicle, inadvertently warned the soldiers of his whereabouts.

Reports of his torture in Mountjoy Jail soon circulated but Barry refused to name his comrades. He was given a death sentence but it was widely believed that this sentence would be commuted, and that the British authorities would not dare to execute an eighteen year-old.

As the deadline approached it became clear that Kevin Barry would be executed. A planned rescue by Michael Collins came to nothing when reinforcements from Dublin Castle were ordered to the prison because of the large crowds that had gathered outside. It was reported that Barry had requested to be shot by firing squad rather than hanged, which he viewed as a death not befitting a soldier. The hangman, Ellis, had to be brought into the country from England, as no-one in Ireland could be found for the job. The calmness and bravery the young Barry showed in the hours leading up to his execution has become the stuff of legends. Despite protestations from clerics and politicians alike he was hanged in Mountjoy Jail on November 1st, 1920.

Just as in the aftermath of the 1916 Easter Rising the British military in Ireland had badly misjudged the situation. Had they simply imprisoned the leaders of 1916 it is likely that the huge upsurge in support for Irish nationalism would not have taken place. By executing someone as young as Kevin Barry in 1920 they handed the Irish Republican Army a huge propaganda victory. Young recruits flocked to join the IRA in the War of Independence, which in turn led to the Treaty, The partition of Ireland, the Civil War, Independence and all that has occurred since.

It was reported that, for the rest of his life, Michael Collins bitterly regretted not being able to save the young soldier.

Kevin Barry - An article provided by The Information about Ireland Site.

Transcription

In Mountjoy jail one Monday morning
High upon the gallows tree,
Kevin Barry gave his young life
For the cause of liberty.
Just a lad of eighteen summers,[11]
Still there's no one can deny,
As he walked to death that morning,
He proudly held his head on high.

Chorus

Shoot me like an Irish soldier.
Do not hang me like a dog,
For I fought to free old Ireland
On that still September morn.
All around the little bakery
Where we fought them hand to hand,
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland

Just before he faced the hangman,
In his dreary prison cell,[12]
British soldiers tortured Barry,
Just because he would not tell.
The names of his brave comrades,
And other things they wished to know.
Turn informer or we'll kill you
Kevin Barry answered "No".

Proudly standing to attention
While he bade his last farewell
To his broken hearted mother
Whose grief no one can tell.
For the cause he proudly cherished
This sad parting had to be
Then to death walked softly smiling
That old Ireland might be free.

Another martyr for old Ireland,
Another murder for the crown,
Whose brutal laws may kill the Irish,
But can't keep their spirit down.
Lads like Barry are no cowards.
From the foe they will not fly.
Lads like Barry will free Ireland,
For her sake they'll live and die.

Date

Notes

Wikipedia:
"Kevin Barry" is a popular Irish rebel song recounting the death of Kevin Barry, a member of the Irish Republican Army (IRA) who was hanged on 1 November 1920. He was 18 years old at the time. He is one of a group of IRA members executed in 1920-21 collectively known as The Forgotten Ten.

The ballad was penned shortly after his death by an author whose identity is unknown. Barry's family investigated this in the 1920s, but were only told it was the work of an Irish emigrant living in Glasgow. Some sources claim that it was written by Terrence Ward, a journalist, but this is incorrect, he actually wrote another song about Barry. (At the very least it seems that nobody is actively claiming copyright of this song.) It is sung to the melody of "Rolling Home to Dear Old Ireland" (also known as "Rolling Home to ..." several other places).

It had been performed by many Irish groups including The Wolfe Tones and The Clancy Brothers. The American singer Paul Robeson included it in this album Songs of Struggle, although this version tones down the anti-British sentiment of the original. On at least one occasion, in 1972, Leonard Cohen covered the song in concert.

The song has been one of the most enduringly popular of Irish songs and has been largely responsible for making Kevin Barry a household name. It was said to be so popular with British troops during the Troubles that it was banned. It was one of many Irish rebel ballads removed from RTE playlists during the period of the conflict in Northern Ireland.

Kevin Barry features prominently in Frank McCourt's novel Angela's Ashes and in the 1999 movie adaptation of the book.
]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/882 <![CDATA[Lamentation of Margaret Bell, ]]> 2020-01-08T14:59:23+11:00

Title

Lamentation of Margaret Bell,

Subtitle

at present under Sentence of Death in Paisley Jail.

Synopsis

Margaret Bell murders her baby, is brought to Paisley to be executed by hanging. This song ends with her awaiting her death. But as we discover in a related ballad, 'Margaret Bell's Lament' she would be reprieved by the appeals of the people of Paisley and would be banished instead.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Copy of original in Bodleian Library, Universit of Oxford, Shelfmark: 2806 c. 14(159); Bodlein Ballads Online Bod1370;  Original available in the Murray Collection, Glasgow University Library

Transcription

From my dungeon in Paisley I send you this warning,
To shun paths of vice which leads on to crime.
too long I have run in the broad path of ruin,
But now I must die in the height of my prime.
O! col dis my cell and my chains they are weighty,
But the weight of my sins are heavier on me,
For I murdered my child, how can I look for mercy;
Oh! no, I must die upon the gallows tree.

Cold was the night on the sixteenth of November,
As straight with my child close press'd to my breast;
My bosom was swelling, my tears fast were falling,
As hush, hush, I cried, to lull my baby to rest.
By the Crofthead Bleachfield I careless did wander
To the edge of the pond where I thought none did see,
There I murdered my babe, and threw it in the water,
For which I must die upon the gallows tree.

That night with my cousin I slept at the bleachfield,
And early next morning prepared to depart;
I was told by the workers a child was found murdered,
And, oh! how the words pearc'd my poor guilty heart.
Then to Bogshaw I fled for to join my service,
But the stern hands of justice soon laid hold of me;
I was brought back to Paisley for to stand my trial,
Now my sentence is pass'd -- I must die on a tree.

The grey morn will dawn on the 26th of January
'Tis the last in this world that's allotted for me,
From my dark dreary dungeon I'll be taken that morning.
To face a gazing multitude, when hanged I shall be.
When I think of my childhood and my poor aged mother,
And the precepts she taught as I knelt at her knee;
Oh, little she thought as I lay on her bosom,
That her child Margaret Bell was to die on a tree.

And now, in conclusion, I give you all warning,
To shun evil company before its too late;
If e'er vicious thoughts should arise in your bosom,
O think on Margaret Bell and her untimely fate.
Now, farewell, vain world, and all thy false pleasures,
Your bright show of vanity is no more for me,
My days they are numbered and the moments are flying,
On the 26th of January I must die on a tree.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

infanticide

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Paisley

Printing Location

James Lindsay, 9 King St, Glasgow

Notes

From National Records of Scotland:
Accused: Margaret Bell, Verdict: Guilty, Verdict Comments: Guilty - recommendation for leniency, Sentence: Death - hanging by public executioner, Petition: Remission of sentence granted under the Great Seal at High Court, Edinburgh, 7 February 1853 (see JC8/60, f.13v).. Note: Pannel drowned infant in a bleachfield dam and was sentenced to hang at Paisley on 26 January, 1853.
Victim Unnamed, female infant

]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/883 <![CDATA[Life, last words and dying speech of Stephen Smith.]]> 2020-01-08T14:59:40+11:00

Title

Life, last words and dying speech of Stephen Smith.

Subtitle

A black man, who was executed at Boston this day being Thursday, October 12, 1797 for burglary.

Date

]]>
https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/884 <![CDATA[Luke Huttons lamentation: ]]> 2020-01-08T14:59:50+11:00

Title

Luke Huttons lamentation:

Subtitle

which he wrote the day before his death, being condemned to be hanged at Yorke this last assises for his robberies and trespasses committed.

Synopsis

Highwayman Luke Hutton is hanged for his crimes in York

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Huntington Library - Britwell, Shelfmark: HEH18307; EBBA 32346

Set to tune of...

Wandering and wavering

Transcription

I Am a poore prisoner condemned to dye,
ah woe is me woe is me for my great folly,
Fast fettred in yrons in place where I lie
Be warned yong wantons, hemp passeth green holly
My parents were of good degree
by whom I would not counselled be,
Lord Jesu forgive me with mercy releeve me,
Receive O sweet saviour my spirit unto thee.

My name is Hutton, yea Luke of bad life
ah woe is me woe is me for my great folly:
Which on the highway robd man and wife,
be warned yong wantons, etc.
Inticed by many a gracelesse mate,
Whose counsel I repent too late. Lord, etc.

Not twentie yeeres old alas was I
ah woe is me woe is me, etc.
When I began this fellonie
be warned yong wantons, etc.
With me went stil twelve yeomen, tall
Which I did my twelve a Apostles call. Lord, etc.

There was no Squire nor barron bold
ah woe is me woe is me for my great folly:
That rode the way with silver or gold,
be warned yong wantons, etc.
But I and my twelve Apostles gaie,
would lighten their load ere they went away, lord, etc.

This newes procured my kins-folkes griefe,
ah woe is me woe is me
They hearing I was a famous theefe
be warned yong wantons,
They wept they wailde they wrong their hands
that thus I should hazard life and lands. lord, etc.

They made me a Jaylor a little before, ah woe, etc.
to keep in prison offenders store, be warned, etc.
But such a Jaylor was never none,
I went and let them out everie one. lord, etc.

I wist their sorrow sore grieved me
ah woe is mee, etc.
Such proper men should hanged be
be warned yong, etc.
My office then I did defie
And ran away for company. lord, etc.
Three yeeres I lived upon the spoile
ah woe is me, etc.
Giving many a carle the soile
be warned yong etc.
Yet never did I kil man nor wife
though lewdly long I led my life. lord, etc.

But all too bad my deedes hath been,
ah woe is me, etc,
Offending my country and my good queene,
be warned yong, etc.
All men in Yorke-shire talke of me,
A stronger theefe there could not be. lord, etc.

Upon S. Lukes day was I borne, ah woe, etc.
whom want of grace hath made a scorne. be war. etc.
in honor of my birth day then,
I robd in a bravery nineteene men. Lord, etc.

The country weary to beare this wrong,
ah woe is me, etc.
With huse and cries pursude me long, be war, etc.

Though long I scapt, yet loe at last.
London I was in newgate cast.

There did I lye with a grieved [mi]nde,
ah woe is me, etc.
Although the keeper was gentle and kinde,
be warned yong etc.
[Y]et was he not so kinde as I,
[T]o let m[e go] at libertie. lord, etc.

At last the shiriffe of Yorke-shire came,
ah woe is me, etc.
And in a warrant he had my name,
be warned yong, etc.
[Quoth] he at Yorke thou must be tride,
With me therefore hence must thou ride. lord, etc.

Like pangues of death his words did sound,
ah woe is me, etc.
My hands and armes ful fast he bound,
be warned etc.
Good sir quoth I, I had rather stay,
I have no heart to ride that way. lord, etc.

When no intreaty might prevaile,
ah woe is me, etc.
I calde for beere, for wine and ale,
be warned, etc.
And when my heart was in wofull case,
I drunke to my friends with a smiling face. lord, etc.

With clubs and staves I was garded then,
ah woe is me, etc.
I never before had such waiting men
be warned, etc.
If they had ridden before amaine,
Beshrew me if I had cald them againe. lord, etc.

And when unto Yorke that I was come, ah, etc.
Each one on me did passe their doome. be war. etc.
and whilst you live this sentence note,
Evill men can never have good report. lord, etc.

Before the judges when I was brought,
ah woe is me, etc.
Be sure I had a carefull thought, be, etc.
Nine-score inditements and seaventeene,
against me there was read and seene. lord, etc.

And each of these was fellony found,
ah woe is me. etc.
which did my heart with sorrow wound, be, etc.
What should I heerein longer stay,
For this I was condemned that day. lord, etc.

My death each houre I do attend,
ah woe is me:
In prayer and teares my time I spend. be etc.
And all my loving friends this day,
I do intreate for me to pray. Lord etc.

I have deserved long since to die, ah woe etc
A viler sinner livde not then I: be etc.
On friends I hopte my life to save,
But I am fittest for my grave: Lord etc.

Adue my loving frends each one,
ah woe is me woe is me for my great folly,
Thinke on my words when I am gone,
be warned young wantons, etc.
When on the ladder you shal me view,
thinke I am neerer heaven then you. Lord etc.

Method of Punishment

hanging

Crime(s)

robbery

Gender

Date

Execution Location

York

Printing Location

London for Thomas Millington

Notes

For discussion of parentage of and writings ascribed to the highwayman Luke Hutton, see Arthur Valentine Judges, The Elizabethan Underworld (London, 1930), pp. 269-95 and notes, pp. 506-8.
]]>