<![CDATA[Execution Ballads]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/browse?tags=beheading&sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CCreator&output=rss2 Fri, 29 Mar 2024 19:28:27 +1100 una.mcilvenna@unimelb.edu.au (Execution Ballads) Zend_Feed http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss <![CDATA[The Lord RUSSELS Farewel]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/835

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).
lord russels farewell.jpg
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:18 +1000
<![CDATA[A breefe balet touching the traytorous takynge of Scarborow Castell.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/840

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.
ulf_11_Heywood_John-A_breefe_balet_touching_the_traytorous-STC-132907-1897_04-p1.tif
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:19 +1000
<![CDATA[A Lamentable Ditty made on the Death of Robert Deverux Earl of Essex,]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/846

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
PepysC_2_162-163_2448x2448.jpg
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:20 +1000
<![CDATA[A lamentable new Ballad upon the Earle of Essex his death.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/847

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
Pepys_1_0106-0107_2448x2448.jpg
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:20 +1000
<![CDATA[A Terror for TRAITORS]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/859

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.

rox_3_796_2448x2448.jpg
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:22 +1000
<![CDATA[AN ELEGY On the DEATH of William Lord RUSSEL,]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/865

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.
hunt_1_134718_2448x2448.jpg
An Elegy on the Death of William Lord Russel.tiff
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:23 +1000
<![CDATA[Constance of Cleveland.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/874

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

Set to tune of...

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?
PepysC_1_138-139_2448x2448.jpg
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:24 +1000
<![CDATA[Sir Walter Rauleigh his lamentation:]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/890

Title

Sir Walter Rauleigh his lamentation:

Subtitle

Who was beheaded in the old Pallace at Westminster the 29.
of October. 1618. To the tune of Welladay.

Digital Object

Image / Audio Credit

Magdalene College, Pepys Library - Cambridge (1.110-111); EBBA 20046

Set to tune of...

Transcription

C Ourteous kind Gallants all, pittie me, pittie me,
My time is now but small, here to continue:
Thousands of people stay,
To see my dying day,
Sing I then welladay, wofully mourning.

Once in a gallant sort lived I, lived I.
Belov'd in Englands court graced with honours:
Sir Walter Rauleighs name
Had then a noble fame:
Though turned now to shame through my misdoing.

In youth I was too free of my will, of my will,
Which now deceiveth me of my best fortunes:
All that same gallant traine
Which I did then maintaine,
Holds me now in disdaine for my vaine folly.

When as Queene Elizabeth ruld this land, ruld this land,
I trode the honord path of a brave Courtier:
Offices I had store,
Heapt on me more and more,
And my selfe I in them bore proud and commanding.

Gone are those golden dayes, woe is me woe is me:
Offences many waies brought unto triall,
Showes that disloyaltie
Done to his Majestie,
Judgeth me thus to dye; Lord for thy pitie.

But the good graces here of my King, of my King,
Shewd to me many a yeere
makes my soule happie
In that his royall Grace
Gave me both time and space
Repentance to embrace: now heaven be praised.

Thirteene years in the tower have I lien, have I lien.
Before this appoynted houre of my lives ending:
Likewise such libertie
Had I unluckily,
To be sent gallantly out on a voyage.

But that same voyage then prov'd amis prov'd amis,
Many good gentlemen lost their good fortunes:
All that with me did goe
Had sudden overthrow
My wicked will to shew gainst my deere Countrey.

When I returned backe, hoping grace, hoping grace,
The tower againe alacke was my abiding:
Where for offences past,
My life againe was cast
Woe on woe followed fast to my confusion.

It plea'sd my royall King thus to doe, thus to doe,
That his peeres should me bring to my lives judgement.
The Lieutenant of the tower
Kept me fast in his power,
Till the appointed houre of my remooving.

The Second Part .

T O Westminster then was I garded strong, garded strong
Where many a wandring eye saw me convayed
Where I a Judgment had, for my offences bad,
Which was to loose my head, there the next morning.

So to the Gatehouse there, was I sent, was I sent,
By knights and gentlemen, guarding me safely,
Where all that wofull night,
My heart tooke no delight:
Such is the heavie plight of a poore prisoner.

Calling then to my mind, all my joyes, all my joyes,
Whereto I was inclind, living in pleasures:
All those dayes past and gon,
Brings me now care and mone,
Being thus overthrowne, by mine own folly.

When the sad morning came
I should die, I should die:
O what a fright of shame:
fild up my bosome:
My heart did almost breake, when I heard people speake,
I shold my ending make as a vile traitor.

I thought my fortunes hard, when I saw, when I saw
In the faire pallace yard a scaffold prepared:
My loathed life to end:
On which I did ascend.
Having at all no friend there to grant mercy.

Kneeling downe on my knee, willingly, willingly,
Prayed for his Majustie long to continue:
And for his Nobles all.
With subjects great and small,
Let this my wofull fall be a fit warning.

And you that hither come thus to see, thus to see
My most unhappy doome
pittie my ending.
A Christian true I die:
Papistrie I defie,
Nor never Atheist I as is reported.

You Lords & knights also in this place, in this place
Some gentle love bestow
pity my falling:
As I rose suddenly
Up to great dignitie,
So I deservedly die for my folly.

Farewell my loving wife woe is me, woe is me:
Mournefull wil bee thy life,
Left a sad widdow.
Farewell my children sweet,
We never more shall meet
Till we each other gr[ee]t, blessed in heaven,

With this my dying knell willingly, willingly,
Bid I the world farewell full of vaine shadowes
All her deluding showes
brings my heart naught but woes
Who rightly feeles and knowes. all her deceivings.

Thus with my dying breath doe I kis, doe I kis,
This axe that for my death here is provided:
May I feele little paine,
when as it cuts in twaine,
what my life must sustaine all her deceivings.

My head on block is laid,
And my last part is plaid:
Fortune hath me betraid, sweet Jesus grant mercy.
Thou that my headsman art, when thou list, when thou list,
Without feare doe thy part
I am prepared:

Thus here my end I take
farewel world, farewel world,
And my last will I make, climing to heaven:
For this my offence,
I die with true penitance,
Jesus recieve me hence: farewell sweet England.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Old Palace, Westminster

Printing Location

London Printed for Philip Birch and are to be sold at his shop at the Guyld-hall .

Tune Data

Composer: William Elderton
Date tune first appeared: 1569
PepysC_1_110-111_2448x2448.jpg
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:26 +1000
<![CDATA[The lamentacion that Ladie Iane made saiyng for my fathers proclamacion now must I lese my heade.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/908

Title

The lamentacion that Ladie Iane made saiyng for my fathers proclamacion now must I lese my heade.

Synopsis

A ballad about the execution of Lady Jane Grey in 1554. This was most likely printed some years after the events, as a ballad sympathetic to Lady Jane would have been unprintable during the reign of Mary I.

Transcription

The lamentation that Ladie Jane made, Saiyng for my fathers proclamation now must I lose my heade .


This was the lamentacion,
That Ladie Jane made :
Saiyng, for my fathers Proclamacion,
Now must I lose my head.

But God that sercheth every harte,
And knoweth I am giltles,
Although that I now suffer smarte,
Yet, I am not worthie of this.

For when she was at the place appoincted,
Her death mekely for to take :
Her ghostly father and she reasoned.
Her praiers then she did make.

Forthe of our beddes we were fet out,
To the Tower for to go :
Yet wist we not where about,
Our fathers did make us do so.

Alas what did our fathers meane,
Both tree and fruicte thus for to spill,
Against my mynde he proclaimed me quene,
And I never consented theretill.

The lorde Gilforde my housbande,
Which suffred here presente :
The thyng our fathers toke in hande,
Was neither his nor my consente.

But seyng I am iudged by a lawe to dye,
And under whiche I was borne :
Yet will I take it pacientlie,
Laughyng none of them to scorne,

Why should I blame fortune of this,
Seyng blame it is not worthie :
Our livyng were so farre amis,
That we deserved this miserie.

For my synne I am worthie to dye,
Pride in me did so remaine :
Yet all good people praie for me,
As charitie doeth constraine.

The hedsman kneled on his knee,
To forgeve hym her death :
Frende, she saied, God forgeve thee,
With all my harte and faithe.

She kyssed hym, and gave hym a rewarde,
And saied to hym incontinente :
I praie thee yet remember afterwarde,
That thou hast headed an innocente.

She gave the Lieutenaunt her booke,
Whiche was covered all with golde,
Praied hym therein to looke,
For his sake that Judas solde.

She toke her kercher faire and swete,
To cover her face withall :
A Psalme of David she did recite,
And on the Lorde she did call.

Although this breakefast be shorte to me,
Yet in the Lorde I trust :
To suppe in the heavenlie glorie,
With Abraham that is iuste. . . .

Upon the Blocke she laied her heade,
Her death mekely to take :
In manus tuas, then she saied,
And this her ende she did make.

Imprinted at London, for Ihon Wight.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

high treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tower of London

Printing Location

London: Ihon Wight

URL

https://archive.org/details/TransactionsOfTheRoyalHistoricalSociety1909VolIII3rdSeries/page/n69/mode/2up?q=lamentation+that

Notes

Wikipedia:  Lady Jane Grey (1536/1537 - 12 February 1554), also known as The Nine Days' Queen, was an English noblewoman who was de facto monarch of England from 10 July until 19 July 1553 and was subsequently executed. A great-granddaughter of Henry VII by his younger daughter Mary, Jane was a first-cousin-once-removed of Edward VI. In May 1553 Jane was married to Lord Guildford Dudley, a younger son of Edward's chief minister, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland. When the 15-year-old King lay dying in June 1553, he nominated Jane as successor to the Crown in his will, thus subverting the claims of his half-sisters Mary and Elizabeth under the Third Succession Act. During her short reign, Jane resided in the Tower of London. She became a prisoner there when the Privy Council decided to change sides and proclaim Mary as Queen on 19 July 1553. She was convicted of high treason in November 1553, though her life was initially spared. Wyatt's rebellion in January and February 1554 against Queen Mary's plans of a Spanish match led to Jane's and her husband's execution.

On the morning of 12 February 1554, the authorities took Guilford from his rooms at the Tower of London to the public execution place at Tower Hill and there had him beheaded. A horse and cart brought his remains back to the Tower of London, past the rooms where Jane remained as a prisoner. Jane was then taken out to Tower Green, inside the Tower of London, and beheaded in private. With few exceptions, only royalty were offered the privilege of a private execution; Jane's execution was conducted in private on the orders of Queen Mary, as a gesture of respect for her cousin.
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:43:29 +1000
<![CDATA[Complainte de Marie Stuart]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/978

Title

Complainte de Marie Stuart

Synopsis

Mary Queen of Scots

Transcription

En vain de ma douleur affreuse,
Ces murs sont les tristes échos!
En songeant que je fus heureuse,
Je ne fais qu'accroître mes maux!
A travers ces grilles terribles,
Je vois les oiseaux dans les airs;
Ils chantent leurs amours paisibles,
Et moi, je pleure dans les fers!

Quel que soit le sort qui m'accable,
Mon coeur saura le soutenir,
Infortunée et non coupable,
Je prends pour juge l'avenir,
Perfide et barbare ennemie,
L'on détestera tes fureurs,
Et sur la tombe de Marie,
La pitié versera des pleurs!

Voùtes sombres, séjour d'alarmes,
Lieux au silence destinés,
Ah! qu'un jour passé dans les larmes,
Est long pour les infortunés!
Les vents sifflent, le hibou crie,
J'entends une cloche gémir.
Tout dit à la triste Marie:
Ton heure sonne, il faut mourir!

Composer of Ballad

Words by Jean Pierre Claris de Florian (1755 - 1794)
Music by Jean Paul Egide Martini, né Johann Paul Aegidius Schwarzendorf (1741 - 1816)

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Date

]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:34 +1000
<![CDATA[Complainte et lamentations, faite sur la cruelle, & lamentable Mort, de Charle Stuart Roy d'Angleterre, d'Escosse, & d'Yrlande.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/981

Title

Complainte et lamentations, faite sur la cruelle, & lamentable Mort, de Charle Stuart Roy d'Angleterre, d'Escosse, & d'Yrlande.

Subtitle

Executé en public dans la Ville de Londres le 30. Ianvier 1649.

Synopsis

French protest at execution of Charles I of England

Image / Audio Credit

BL

Transcription

CEdres hauts eslevés, au milieu des Campagnes,
Et Rochers tres-puissants, ainsi que des Montagnes,
Las! trembles tous à ce coup; tout saisis de frayeur!
Voyant que la cognée, met à bas la Grandeur.
Arrestes vous Ruisseaux, & prestes vos oreilles,
Entendes en un mot, des estranges merveilles
Perpetré depuis peu, parmy un Peuple Anglois,
Escoutes, ô Chrestiens, un pitoyable cas!
Une guerre Civile, s'estant esmeu entr'eux,
Que te contraignit ô Roy, à te retirer d'eux,
Pour te défendre mieux, & te garder d'embusches,
Et n'estre pas surpris, de leurs fausses astuces.
On le poursuit, le bat, contraint à la retraitte,
Tous remplis de fureur, le nomment ROY sans TESTE,
Apres plusieurs combats, il fuit dans une Ville,
Où il est assiegé, de ces Gens incivile,
En la fin, force luy est, d'en sortir finement,
Assisté de quelqu'homme, pris dans un Regiment,
Sortis il s'en alla, vers l'Armée Escossoise,
Croyant le General, avoir l'ame courtoise.
Mais l'inique perfide, pour tirer de l'argent,
Le livre entre les mains, de ceux de Parlement,
Qui sans riens respecter, Sa Majesté Royale,
L'ont logé en Prison, d'un faon brutale,
Là où ils l'ont tenu, par diverses années,
Et traittant avec luy, par des fausses menées,
En fin l'ont dégradé, de toute Seigneurie,
Tesmoignant en cela, leur mal-heureuse envie,
Cependant on meurtrit, on coupe, execute,
Ceux qui tiennent pour luy, on tue, on persecute:
Ayant force en main, on taille, la commune,
On y change les Loys, sans en espargner Une.
Des Sectes infinies, s'y font journellement,
N'ayant en l'Evangile, aucun bon fondement,
Le Parlement permet, tous mauvais sectataires,
Moyennant de l'argent, pour eux, en pour la Guerre.
Las! le peuple gemît, de telle tirannie,
Mais si quelqu'un s'oppose, on luy oste la vie:
Fairfax fait le fendant, avecque son Armé,
Qu'il transmet & tracasse, par toute la Contrée,
Ainsi le pauvre peuple, est par tout ravagé,
Et jusqu'au dernier bout, de ces gens affligé;
Chacun lamante, ayant l'Ame abatuö‚,
Priant Dieu de leur rendre leur liberté perduö‚:
On transmet le Roy, allant de place en place,
Par des gens de Fairfax, ne parlans qu'en menace:
Enfin ce pauvre Roy, supplie qu'on s'accorde,
Rendant à la Patrie, la paix & la concorde.
Dont ceux du Parlement, quelques-uns deputerent
Et avant que partir, ensemble s'accorderent:
Car le Roy lors ceda, à toutes leurs demandes,
Sans nulles refuser, ou petites ou grandes.
Mais! de rien ne te sert, ô Roy, ta liberalité,
A des gens sanguinaire, remplis de cruauté,
Tu prie qu'à ton peuple, la paix on vueille rendre
Tes ennemis felons; de voir ton sang épandre,
Car ce monstre de Fairfax, que l'Enfer enfanta,
Armé d'une fureur, que le Diable alluma,
Poursuit tout effrené, & tout bousti de rage,
Le des-astre, la fin, de ce divin ouvrage,
D'autre part, ce perfide, ce Demon de Cromwel,
Ainsi que l'autre armé, d'un courage cruel,
Ne cesse de crier, Qu'on oste, & crucifie
Son souverain Seigneur, plein d'honneur & de vie:
Moy tout plein de douleur, & de compassion,
De voir un Roy Chrestien, & de la Nation,
Traitté de ses sujets, de faon si cruelle;
Je crie à des puants, paricides, rebelle:
Les Cieux ont ils produits, des ames si étrange,
Ou! le Diable a-il? produisant son mélange,
La nature changé aux ventres de vos Mere,
Estes-vous bien le fils, d'un si énorme Pere?
Auries-vous bien le cour, si plein de perfidie,
Que de vouloir oster, à vostre Roy la vie?
Un Roy d'ancienne Race, qui ne vous a méfait,
Si n'est que la douceur, estimies un forfait.
Ha! vous le menaces, helas! quel arrogance,
Est cela le respect, l'honneur, la reverence,
Laquelle vous devez, rendre à sa Majesté?
Qui vous donne l'audace, & telle liberté?
C'est le Diable tout seul, dont estes les genies,
Car Dieu n'est autheur, de telles felonies:
Dieu est plein de pitié, & de compassion,
Et le Diable cruel, déloyal, & felon.
Dieu commande aux Sujets, d'obeö¿r à son Roy,
Le Diable au contraire, de luy faire la Loy.
Ha! je voy qu'on s'avance, quoy! que veut-on faire,
Veut-on sacrifier, un des Dieux de la Terre?
Quoy donc, c'est tout de bon, que le voules produire
Dessus un Eschaffaut, pour servir de martyre?
C'est doncques à ce coup, ô Brebis innocente,
Que tu dois asouffir, ces ames tant méchante:
Helas! quelle douleur, possede lors mon ame,
Quand je t'entens monter, un degré tant infame;
Quand sur un Eschaffaut, bien éloigné d'un Thrône,
Je voy' qu'on veut oster, la Vie, & la Couronne.
Helas! quel changement, de voir Sa Majesté,
Au lieu des grands Seigneurs, d'un Bourreau assisté.
Abandonné des tiens, & delaissé en proye
Aux Demons de la terre, qui en ryent de joye.
Quel changement helas! quand au lieu de ta Table,
Couverte richement, de Tous, met delectable,
Tu n'as qu'un Eschaffaut, tendu par tout du Noir,
Signe esvident du mal, que tu dois recevoir.
Pour Vaisselle un Bloc, avec peu d'artifice,
Ta Majesté l'Agneau, pour un tel sacrifice,
Ton Eschanson un Bouc, vilaine creature,
Un Bourreau en effet, un Tigre de nature.
Ha! cruel tu y vas, d'une rude démarche,
Comment aurois-tu bien, en ton coeur tell'audace?
Quoy! ton coeurs est-il confit, en incompassion?
Et ton ame abruties, desnué de raison?
Aurois-tu bien le coeur, que de ton Roy occire?
Sauroyent bien tes yeux, regarder ce martyre?
Sans perdre leur clarté, d'un sens évanouö¿s?
Ou passer à l'instant, d'une frayeur saisis?
Ha! tu prens la Cognée, regarde que veux faire,
Dieu tient son oeil fiché, icy bas en la terre:
Il voit ce qu'on veut faire, & tout ne souffrira,
S'il l'endure à la fin, un jour s'en vengera.
Ha! garde-toy indigne, du tout desnaturé,
Ne touche pas ne touche, à ce Corps tout sacré,
Que ton coeur putrefect, & que ta main impure,
N'offense nullement, sa Royale Stature.
O! la mal-heureux coup, ô! coup tres-mal-heureux!
Je vois le Corps du Roy, dont il separe en deux:
Ne touche ô! cruel, son Chef que je lamente,
Mon mal est assés grand, je te prie ne l'augmente.
O peuple furibont! nation sanguinaire:
Vous avez bien osé, un Oinct de Dieu défaire.
Vous avez comme Tigre, cruels & furieux,
Osté la Vie au Roy, à vous donné dés Cieux,
D'un si grand mal, quelle est vostre esperance?
Qu'attendez-vous du Ciel, d'une si grand' offense?
Vostre mal sans égal, vos injustes sentences,
Et la mort d'un grand Roy, crient au Ciel vengeances!
Quoy! vous ne pleures pas, helas! est-il possible,
Qu'ayez en vos pechés, le coeur tant invincible?
Quoy! vous ne pleures pas, & des Roches entieres,
Comblées de douleurs, distillent des Rivieres.
Les Bestes les plus farouches, gemisent par les champs;
Et les Oyseaux de l'air, ont delaissé leurs chants.
Quoy! vous estez insensible, & si n'avez au coeur
Aucune repentance, ny aucune douleur.
Je voy tout l'Univers, se lamenter & plaindre,
Et vous ne craignans Dieu, vous ne voulez rien craindre.
Les Poissons de la Mer, voyant un tel n'auffrage,
Se cachent sous les Eaux, loin de vostre rivage.
Et les Monts immobiles, ne cessent de trembler,
Au bruit d'un si grand Coup, indigne de nommer.
Bref; on ne voit en l'air, sur la terre, ou l'onde,
Rien qui ne soit touché, de douleurs tres-profonde,
Sinon [TO BE CONTINUED!!!]

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

London

Printing Location

Imprimé en l'An mil six cens quarante-&-neuf.
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:34 +1000
<![CDATA[Hymne du 21 janvier.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/993

Title

Hymne du 21 janvier.

Synopsis

Louis XVI execution

Transcription

Les flammes d'Etna sur ses laves antiques
Ne cessent de verser des flots plus dévorants.
Des monstres couronnés, les fureurs despotiques.
Ne cessent d'ajouter aux forfaits des tyrans.
S'il en est qui veulent un maître,
De rois en rois dans l'univers
Qu'ils aillent mendier des fers,
Ces français indignes de l'être,
Ces français indignes de l'être!

Etna's flames of ancient lava
Ceaselessly flow, ever more devouring.
Crowned monsters, despotic furies.
Ceaselessly add to tyrants' hideous crimes.
If some want a master,
In a world from King to king
Let them beg for shackles
Unworthy to be called Frenchmen,
Unworthy to be called Frenchmen!

Composer of Ballad

words: LeBrun music: Jadin

Method of Punishment

beheading

Gender

Date

URL

http://chnm.gmu.edu/revolution/d/616/
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:36 +1000
<![CDATA[L’execution remarquable de Mme de Brinvilliers,]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/994

Title

L’execution remarquable de Mme de Brinvilliers,

Subtitle

qui a esté condamnée à faire amende honourable devant nostre dame, et de la conduit à la grève pour y estre décolleté et ensuite jetée au feu, pour avoir empoisonné son Pere, ses frères, et quantité d’autres gens de condition

Transcription

Il faut mourir, ma sentence est rendue,
Mais ce seul mot me rend toute esperdue,
Me faut mourir dessus un echaffaut.
C'est pour punir mes trop cruels deffauts,
Et aujourd'huy on abrège ma vie
Pour expier mes grandes perfidies.

On n'a jamais veu femme dans le monde
Ainsi que moy faire crimes immondes;
J'ay irrité et la terre et le ciel,
Et j'ay commis de grands péchés mortels,
Car j'ai tué par poison mon cher frère
Lequel m'aimoit d'une amour singulière

J'avois en main certain apotiquaire
Que je payois d'une bonne manière,
J'avois aussi un fripon de laquais
Lequel faisoit à peu près mes souhaits,
Je leur donnois de l'argent grande somme,
Et eux passoient toujours pour honneste-hommes.

De ce poison le traistre apotiquaire
Me fournissoit de beaucoup de manière:
Il enfaisoit pour un an, pour six mois,
Il m'en donnoit ainsi que je voulois
Que je faisois prendre comme une infame
A ceux de qui je voulois ravir l'ame.

Dieu tout puissant permit que ce perfide
Lequel estoit devant luy homicide
Vint à mourir, et que ses héritiers
Parmi ses biens, richesses et papiers
Trouverent las! la maudite cassette
Là où estoit le poison manifeste.

On reconnut ma grande perfidie,
Comment j'avais las! abrégé la vie
A mon frère qui me chérissoit tant,
Dont à présent j'ay le coeur mal content;
Dans l'ame j'ay très-forte repentance:
Ma teste va servir de pénitence.

Mon laquais pris, en prison on le mene
Où on luy fit souffrir beaucoup de peines,
Il raconta toute ma trahison,
Comment j'usois de ce maudit poison;
Pour ce sujet il fut mené en Grève,
Où il mourut en peines très-grièves.

Moy je m'en fuis en grande diligence
Abandonnant le royaume de France,
Je fus roder de pays en pays
Bien éloignée de parens et amis,
Pour me sauver je fus en Angleterre,
En [la] Hollande et plusieurs autres terres.

Mais Dieu, lassé de mes crime et offence
A suscité un officier de France
Qui me connut et viste me saisit:
En sauve-garde [tout] soudain il me mit,
Et à Paris on m'ameine bien viste:
Pour m'amener j'avois fort bonne suite.

Mon procès fait, ce coup il faut paroistre
Sur l'echaffaut, c'est pour couper ma teste,
Auparavant je fais déclaration
De mes forfaits et mauvaises actions,
Car j'ay commis des actions si noires
Qu'il n'y a point d'écrites dans l'histoire.

Comme j'ay dit, j'ay fait mourir mon frère
Par le poison d'une mort très-amère,
Je croyois bien faire mourir mon mary,
Mais le poison n'eut pas pouvoir sur luy:
Diligemment il usa de remede,
Et son remede à mon poison succede.

J'ay bien pis fait, mais je ne l'ose dire,
J'ay fait mourir mon pere en [grand] martyre,
En luy donnant de ce maudit poison
L'ay fait pâtir longtemps dans ma maison
Et à la fin il est mort comme etique,
Par ma fraude et ma noire pratique.

Je demande pardon à mon cher pere,
Pareillement aussi à mon cher frère,
Je demande pardon à mes parens,
Je demande pardon à mes enfans,
Je demande pardon à l'assistance,
Je meurs, je meurs avec grand repentance.

Mon cher mary, pardon je vous demande
D'avoir commis une faute si grande;
Je croyois bien vous tuer par poison
Bien préparé par ma grand trahison,
Mais Dieu très-bon vous conserve la vie:
La mienne va ce coup estre finie.

Ce n'est pas tout que de perdre la vie,
Mes entrailles s'en vont estre rotties,
Et dans ce lieu on va brùler mon corps,
Encor qu'il soit déjà au rang des morts,
Contemplez moy, très-illustre noblesse:
Ma sentence me réduit en faiblesse.

Method of Punishment

beheading, burning of remains

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Paris, place de Greve

Notes

image is from another pamphlet, Musee Carnavalet, estampe HIST PC 001 TerG (in Bastien, execution publique a Paris)

Wikipedia: Marie-Madeleine-Marguerite d'Aubray, Marquise de Brinvilliers (22 July 1630 - 17 July 1676) conspired with her lover, army captain Godin de Sainte-Croix to poison her father Antonine Dreux d'Aubray in 1666 and two of her brothers, Antoine d'Aubray and Franois d'Aubray, in 1670, in order to inherit their estates. There were also rumors that she had poisoned poor people during her visits to hospitals. 

She appears to have used Tofana poison, whose recipe she seems to have learned from her lover, the Chevalier de Sainte Croix, who had learned it from Exili, an Italian poisoner, who had been his cellmate in the Bastille. Her accomplice Sainte-Croix had died of natural causes in 1672.

In 1675, she fled to England, Germany, and a convent, but was arrested in Lige. She was forced to confess and sentenced to death. On 17 July 1676, she was tortured with the water cure, that is, forced to drink sixteen pints of water. She was then beheaded and her body was burned at the stake.

Her trial and the attendant scandal launched the Affair of the Poisons, which saw several French aristocrats charged with poison and witchcraft.

 

Madame de Sevigné: Encore un petit mot de la Brinvilliers : elle est morte comme elle a vécu, c'est-à-dire résolument. Elle entra dans le lieu où l'on devoit lui donner la question ; et voyant trois seaux d'eau : Œ‚ C'est assurément pour me noyer, dit-elle ; car de la taille dont je suis, on ne prétend pas que je boive tout cela. Œé Elle écouta son arrt, ds le matin, sans frayeur ni sans foiblesse ; et sur la fin, elle le fit recommencer, disant que ce tombereau l'avoit frappée d'abord, et qu'elle en avoit perdu l'attention pour le reste. Elle dit à son confesseur, par le chemin, de faire mettre le bourreau devant elle, Œ‚ afin de ne point voir, dit-elle, ce coquin de Desgrais qui m'a prise : Œé il étoit à cheval devant le tombereau. Son confesseur la reprit de ce sentiment ; elle dit : Œ‚ Ah mon Dieu ! je vous en demande pardon ; qu'on me laisse donc cette étrange vue ; Œé et monta seule et nu-pieds sur l'échelle et sur l'échafaud, et fut un quart d'heure mirodée, rasée, dressée et redressée, par le bourreau : ce fut un grand murmure et une grande cruauté. Le lendemain on cherchoit ses os, parce que le peuple disoit qu'elle étoit sainte. Elle avoit, dit-elle, deux confesseurs : l'un disoit qu'il falloit tout dire, et l'autre non ; elle rioit de cette 1676 diversité, disant : Œ‚ Je peux faire en conscience tout ce qu'il me plaira : Œé il lui a plu de ne rien dire du tout. Penautier sortira un peu plus blanc que de la neige : le public n'est point content, on dit que tout cela est trouble. Admirez le malheur : cette créature a refusé d'apprendre ce qu'on vouloit, et a dit ce qu'on ne demandoit pas ; par exemple, elle dit que M. Foucquet avoit envoyé Glaser, leur apothicaire empoisonneur, en Italie, pour avoir d'une herbe qui fait du poison : elle a entendu dire cette belle chose à Sainte-Croix. Voyez quel excs d'accablement, et quel prétexte pour achever ce misérable. Tout cela est encore bien suspect. On ajoute encore bien des choses ; mais en voilà assez pour aujourd'hui.

L'execution remarquable de madame de Brinvillers.png
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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:36 +1000
<![CDATA[La déclaration des crimes de madame de Brinvilliers,]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/998

Title

La déclaration des crimes de madame de Brinvilliers,

Subtitle

faite par elle-même, estant prisonnière en la conciergerie du palais, au grand étonnement de tous les assistans avec les dernières parolles qu'elle a prononcée sur l'échaffaut.

Transcription

A vous, mon Dieu, je me confesse,
Comme méchante pécheresse,
Et vous prie de tout mon coeur
De prendre en gré ma pénitence,
Et me pardonner mes offences
Que je déteste avec douleur.

Je suis perverse créature,
J'ay abusé de la nature,
Plusieurs fois j'ay violé ma foy,
Je suis pleine d'ingratitude,
A mal faire j'ay fait étude
Contre vous, grand Dieu, et la loy.

Dedans ma plus tendre jeunesse
J'usois de ruses et finesses,
Je m'adonnois du tout au mal;
Quoy qu'on prit peine à m'instruire
Je ne m'amusois rien qu'à rire,
A danser et aller au bal.

Bref j'ay commis beaucoup de crimes,
De quoy je faisois peu d'estime,
Et mme par un grand effort
J'ay tant fait que mon trs-cher pre
J'ay réduit comme une mégre
Dessous l'étendart de la mort.

Un Godin et un La Chaussée
Savoient mes secrets et pensées
Comme complices de mes faits.
L'un faisoit le poison sans doute,
L'autre mettoit tout en déroute
Par les poisons les plus infects.

Godin introduit chez mes frres
La Chaussée par trop téméraire
Qui mes frres empoisonna;*
Le dernier mort sans nul doutance
Du poison donna connoissance:
La Chaussée on emprisonna.

On fit en grande diligence
Le procs sans nulle doutance
A La Chaussée trop criminel,
Qui déclara à la justice
Ses par trop détestables vices
Et son péché par trop cruel.

Godin sans nul doute il accuse,
Et point du tout il ne m'excuse:
Promptement il fut condamné
Par le sénat et la justice
Qui pour le punir de son vice
Ont commandé qu'il fut roué.**

Ce fut dans la place de Grve
Qu'il fut rompu sans nulle trve,
En présence des assistans;
Et moy sachant cette nouvelle,
Bien vite je bandé mes voiles
Pour me sauver bien loin aux champs.

Pourtant dans la ville de Liége ***
Ce caresme on me prit au piége,
Et à Paris on m'amena [april 1676]
Jusque à la Conciergerie
Pour faire enqueste de ma vie
Qui beaucoup de monde étonna.

Il y a déja quatre lunes
Qu'une prison trop importune
A renfermé mon chétif corps:
Plut à Dieu qu'une maladie
M'eust maintenant privé de vie
Et réduite au nombre des morts.

Je ne serois pas dans la crainte
De me voir mener sans nul feinte
A la mort trs-honteusement,
Quoy que mon advocat fidle [Nivelle avocat au Parlement]
Témoigne enverse moy un grand zle,
Plaidant pour moy éloquamment.

Mais ma trop maudite cassette
Cause que dessus la sellette
On m'a mis assez rudement,
Et ce qui choque plus mon âme
C'est qu'on m'a mis comme la femme
D'un berger ou d'un artisant.

Une fois j'y fus bien trois heures,
C'est pour moy piteuse demeure,
Je voudrois estre en Portugal,
Ou dans quelque autres estrange terre,
Car mes péchés me font la guerre
Et me cause un estrange mal.

Pourtant dans mes peine et souffrance
Il me faut piller patience;
Grand Dieu, ayez pitié de moy,
Je suis toute couverte de crimes,
Je suis la véritable abyme
De l'équité et de la loy.

Je perds beaucoup de personnages
Par mon poison et grand outrage,
Plusieurs sont dejà en prison
Qui pour moy souffrent grandes peines
Dans les cachots, couverts de chesnes,
En trs-grand tribulation.

De quantités je suis maudite:
On voudroit que je fus détruite,
Mon advocat tient toujours bon,
Et toujours il plaide ma cause:
Nonobstant tout cela je n'ose
Espérer sortir de prison.

De beaucoup je suis accusée
Quantités me nomme rusée
D'avoir fait ma confession.
Ma confession est écrite,
Mon advocat dessus médite,
Cherchant mon absolution.

Peut-on absoudre une personne
Qui à tout vice s'abandonne
Et délaisse son Créateur,
Qui defait pre, soeur et frre,
Et qui aux humains fait la guerre,
Les faisant mourir en langueur?

Mon poison, chose véritable,
Se pouvoit donner à la table,
A la promenade et au lit,
Aux gands, bouquets et aux épingles,
Aux médecines et seringues:
Partout il faisoit son délit.

Mais à ce coup faut que je meure;
Me voicy à ma dernire heure:
Je dis adieu à mes enfans,
A mes parens, à l'assistance,
Je meurs dans les peines et souffrance;
Mon sépulchre sera ardans.

Adieu, adieu, belle noblesse,
Toutes mes ruses et finesses
Ne m'ont servy aucunement:
Il faut paroistre en personne,
Et d'un seul coup que l'on me donne,
On me renverse au monument.

Notes:
Godin= Gaudin de Sainte-Croix, amant de la marquise, mort en juillet 1672.
La Chaussée= D'abord valet de Sainte-Croix, puis de la marquise et enfin du conseiller d'Aubray frere de cette derniere.

* en 1670

** l'arrt est du 24 mars 1673

*** she was arrested in the convent in Liege where she had taken sanctuary by the policeman Desgrais who disguised himself as an abbé








Method of Punishment

beheading, burning of remains

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Paris, place de Greve

Notes

Anne Somerset - The Affair of the Poisons: Murder, Infanticide, and Satanism at the Court of Louis XIV (St. Martin's Press (October 12, 2003)

The affair of the poisons

Strange revelations : magic, poison, and sacrilege in Louis XIV's France / Lynn Wood Mollenauer. Pennsylvania State University Press ; [London : Eurospan, distributor], c2007

Wikipedia: Marie-Madeleine-Marguerite d'Aubray, Marquise de Brinvilliers (22 July 1630 - 17 July 1676) conspired with her lover, army captain Godin de Sainte-Croix to poison her father Antonine Dreux d'Aubray in 1666 and two of her brothers, Antoine d'Aubray and Franois d'Aubray, in 1670, in order to inherit their estates. There were also rumors that she had poisoned poor people during her visits to hospitals.

She appears to have used Tofana poison, whose recipe she seems to have learned from her lover, the Chevalier de Sainte Croix, who had learned it from Exili, an Italian poisoner, who had been his cellmate in the Bastille. Her accomplice Sainte-Croix had died of natural causes in 1672.

In 1675, she fled to England, Germany, and a convent, but was arrested in Lige. She was forced to confess and sentenced to death. On 17 July 1676, she was tortured with the water cure, that is, forced to drink sixteen pints of water. She was then beheaded and her body was burned at the stake.

Her trial and the attendant scandal launched the Affair of the Poisons, which saw several French aristocrats charged with poison and witchcraft.

 

Madame de Sevigné: Encore un petit mot de la Brinvilliers : elle est morte comme elle a vécu, c'est-à-dire résolument. Elle entra dans le lieu où l'on devoit lui donner la question ; et voyant trois seaux d'eau : Œ‚ C'est assurément pour me noyer, dit-elle ; car de la taille dont je suis, on ne prétend pas que je boive tout cela. Œé Elle écouta son arrt, ds le matin, sans frayeur ni sans foiblesse ; et sur la fin, elle le fit recommencer, disant que ce tombereau l'avoit frappée d'abord, et qu'elle en avoit perdu l'attention pour le reste. Elle dit à son confesseur, par le chemin, de faire mettre le bourreau devant elle, Œ‚ afin de ne point voir, dit-elle, ce coquin de Desgrais qui m'a prise : Œé il étoit à cheval devant le tombereau. Son confesseur la reprit de ce sentiment ; elle dit : Œ‚ Ah mon Dieu ! je vous en demande pardon ; qu'on me laisse donc cette étrange vue ; Œé et monta seule et nu-pieds sur l'échelle et sur l'échafaud, et fut un quart d'heure mirodée, rasée, dressée et redressée, par le bourreau : ce fut un grand murmure et une grande cruauté. Le lendemain on cherchoit ses os, parce que le peuple disoit qu'elle étoit sainte. Elle avoit, dit-elle, deux confesseurs : l'un disoit qu'il falloit tout dire, et l'autre non ; elle rioit de cette 1676 diversité, disant : Œ‚ Je peux faire en conscience tout ce qu'il me plaira : Œé il lui a plu de ne rien dire du tout. Penautier sortira un peu plus blanc que de la neige : le public n'est point content, on dit que tout cela est trouble. Admirez le malheur : cette créature a refusé d'apprendre ce qu'on vouloit, et a dit ce qu'on ne demandoit pas ; par exemple, elle dit que M. Foucquet avoit envoyé Glaser, leur apothicaire empoisonneur, en Italie, pour avoir d'une herbe qui fait du poison : elle a entendu dire cette belle chose à Sainte-Croix. Voyez quel excs d'accablement, et quel prétexte pour achever ce misérable. Tout cela est encore bien suspect. On ajoute encore bien des choses ; mais en voilà assez pour aujourd'hui.

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Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:37 +1000
<![CDATA[Les adieux de Landru avant de monter à la Guillotine]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1005

Title

Les adieux de Landru avant de monter à la Guillotine

Synopsis

Landru jokingly sings of the 'burning' loves he has had (he burned all his victims)

Set to tune of...

Billets doux

Transcription

1er Couplet

O! vous Messieurs de la Cour,
Aprs bien des jours,
O jÍai souffert comme un damné,
Je suis condamné!...
QuÍavait-on ö me reprocher?
D͐tre recherchéƒ
Aimé par les femmÍs. Est-ce un péché?

1er Refrain
Amours fous, Amours fous qui enflamment,
Qui consument jusquÍau fond de lÍäme!!!
LÍon nÍest plus Rien. Ainsi comme un Envoi
Vers les Cieux lÍon quitte le Sol,
Amours fous, Amours fous qui vous brélent
O la Femme en fumées minuscules
DisparaÓt dans les Cieux,
Dans les langues de feu!
Amours de Gambais,
NÍoublient jamais!


2e Couplet
Vous dites, ces Anges, Landru,
Sont tous disparusƒ
Allons, quÍen avez-vous donc fait,
Lö-bas, ö Gambais,
Car, vous seul, devez le savoir,
Oui! mais, mon Devoir
Est dÍme tairÍ, jÍen suis au désespoir!

2e Refrain
LÍAmour fou, lÍAmour fou qui mÍdomine,
De parler me retient, on lÍdevineƒ
Ne vous fiez donc pas ö mon Carnet,
Mon coeur seul détient le Secret,
Amours fous, amours fous qui consument,
Aprs moi, vous ferez un volume,
O, en pages de feu,
Le brélant amoureux,
Sera désormais,
LÍSaint de Gambais.

3e Couplet
Enfin, cÍest bien fini de moi!...
Mais cÍest sans émoi,
Oui, que jÍécoute votre arrt,
Depuis longtemps prt.
A la guillotine je mÍen vais,
Bien loin de Gambais,
Regretté des femmes, ö jamais!

Dernier Refrain dÍAdieux
Adieux donc, Amours fous, petitÍs femmes,
Mais de loin, vos beaux yeux pleins de flammes,
Réchaufferont ce pauvre vieux martyr,
Que les hommes traitent de Satyr,
Maintenant en malheurs on mÍabreuve,
Adieu Trottins, et vous, pauvres Veuves
A! qui donc maintenant
Sera lÍAmant brélant
Qui vous enflammait,
Villa Gambais?

Composer of Ballad

Maurice Yvain

Method of Punishment

beheading [guillotine]

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Versailles

URL

https://complaintes.criminocorpus.org/media/img/2017/10/26/CC0625.jpg
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HenriéD%C3%A9sir%C3%A9éLandru

Date Tune First Appeared

1921

Notes

https://complaintes.criminocorpus.org/complainte/les-adieux-de-landru-avant-de-monter-a-la-guilloti/
Les adieux de Landru.jpg
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:38 +1000
<![CDATA[Complainte sur la mort tragique du tartuffe Custine, ci-devant Général de l’Armée du Rhin]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1032

Title

Complainte sur la mort tragique du tartuffe Custine, ci-devant Général de l’Armée du Rhin

Subtitle

allant à la guillotine le 28 Août 1793, l’an 2me. de la République Française.

Synopsis

Song lists crimes of the general Custine before his execution

Set to tune of...

Jeunesse trop coquette

Transcription

Bon peuple de la France,
Reconnois tes erreurs,
D’avoir eu confiance
Au plus grand des trompeurs;
Ce fut ce scélérat
Que l’on nommoit Custine,
Ce noble, ce pied plat,
Que chercha ta ruine.

Avoit-on espérance
Qu’il fit un bon sujet,
Etant de connivence
Avec défunt Capet;
Ce fut d’avant Lajard,
L’exécrable ministre
Qui nomma ce pendard,
Ce général sinistre.

On sait bien que Custine,
Ainsi qu’autres vauriens
Alloient, à la sourdine,
Au club des Autrichiens;
Dans ce séjour d’hiboux,
Luckner et Lafayette,
Rochambeau, Montesquiou.
Oui, faisoient leur retraite,

Dans cet affreux asyle,
Custine fit projet
D’être toujours utile
A la race Capet;
Puis, partant promptement,
Cachant sa politique,
Dit: je vais vaillament
Servir la République.

Sa première campagne
Eut assez de succès,
On sait, sur l’Allemagne,
Qu’il fit de grand progrès;
Mais tout son but n’étoit
Que le peuple séduire,
Puisque le traître étoit
D’accord avec l’empire.

Par ruse sanguinaire,
A Francfort, l’an dernier,
Un brave volontaire
Il fit sacrifier;
Sous le nom de son fils,
Fit faire ce massacre;
Faisant dans les esprits
Croire ce simulacre.

Au même instant, l’alarme
S’empare des esprits,
Custine par les armes,
Saura venger son fils;
Ne craignons nullement
Qu’il soit traître à la France,
Le sang de son enfant
Lui demande vengeance.

Le ciel, que rien n’abuse,
Fit connoître à la fin,
La trame de sa ruse
Et son mauvais dessein;
Par un cruel revers,
Au combat de Mayence,
Il fut connu pervers,
Voulant livrer la France.

Le traître abominable
S’en vint droit à Paris,
Se croyant peu coupable,
Mais bientôt il fut pris;
Ce fourbe général,
D’ame si meurtrière,
Parut au tribunal
Révolutionnaire.

Il avoue, il exprime
Toute sa trahison;
Il est jugé pour crime
De lèze-nation;
Qu’il subisse la mort
Par l’aimable machine
Que se monte a ressort;
Qu’on nomme guillotine.

A Paris, de l’Imp. de Daniel, rue et vis-à-vis l’Eglise S.–André-des-Arts, No. 111.

Method of Punishment

beheading [guillotine]

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Paris

Printing Location

A Paris, de lÍImp. de Daniel, rue et vis-ö-vis lÍEglise S.éAndré-des-Arts, No. 111.

Notes

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AdaméPhilippe,éComteédeéCustine
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:42 +1000
<![CDATA[La mort de Pontcallec]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1033

Title

La mort de Pontcallec

Synopsis

Cette chanson issue du Barzaz-Breiz est assez peu connue dans le répertoire des Tri Yann.
Elle ne figure en effet que dans leur second album, "Dix ans dix filles", paru en 1973. Elle est toutefois fort célbre et a été interprétée par de nombreux chanteurs bretonnants (par exemple, Gilles Servat, album "A-roak mont kuit" (Avant de partir) ).

Une petite partie du chant populaire seulement a été reprise par les différents interprtes. Nous vous proposons le texte de la chanson des Tri Yann ainsi que le texte intégral du Barzaz-Breiz.

L'attachement des Bretons à leur indépendance s'est manifesté ds la colonisation de l'Armorique par les premiers Bretons et s'est prolongé jusqu'à nous. Ce chant populaire évoque la conspiration de Pontcallec.

Elle a servi de support au film Que la fte commence.

Il existe en fait deux Pontcallec : le vrai Pontcallec, le Pontcallec de l'Histoire, décrit avec précision par La Borderie dans sa monumentale Histoire de Bretagne, et celui de la légende, l'tre glorifié qui s'est perpétué dans la mémoire des hommes.

La Régence (1715-1723), commencée à la mort de Louis XIV et qui dura la minorité de Louis XV, fut d'abord marquée par une réaction contre le pouvoir absolu de Louis XIV. A partir de 1718, le Régent Philippe d'Orléans revint à des pratiques absolutistes, et la résistance des Parlementaires fut évitée par un exil en province.

A la violation de leurs franchises par le Régent, les Bretons déclarrent nul l'acte de leur union à la France (1532) : une soixantaine de gentilshommes ratifia le 15 septembre 1718 un "Acte d'union pour la défense des libertés de la Bretagne". Afin d'obtenir l'indépendance absolue, ils demandrent l'appui du roi d'Espagne Philippe V, à qui la France venait de déclarer la guerre.

Cet acte d'union se transforma en 1719 en ce qu'on appelle la conspiration de Pontcallec.

Clément-Chrysogone de Guer, marquis de Pontcallec, avait quarante ans. Il habitait le château de Pontcallec, entre Guémené-sur-Scorff et le Faouö‚t (Morbihan). Alors que la légende lui donne 21 ans et fait de lui un Saint, l'Histoire le décrit comme un gentilhomme chasseur, viveur et fraudeur : dur, violent, sans scrupule; les châtelains du pays et ses vasseaux le détestaient et se défiaient de lui.

La conspiration échoua. Quatre des principaux chefs, des gentilshommes, furent capturés et jugés : Pontcallec, du Couö‚dic, Montlouis et Talhouö‚t-le-Moine. Pour éviter une trop grande clémence, le Régent de France ne les fit pas juger par leurs Pairs (le Parlement de Bretagne), comme l'aurait voulu la coutume, mais les livra à une cour martiale présidée par un Savoyard.

Tous quatre furent condamnés à la peine capitale.
Ils furent décapités à Nantes, sur la place du Bouffay, le 25 mars 1720. L'exécution de Pontcallec fut particulirement laborieuse.

Dans la crainte d'un soulvement, le Régent avait fait déployer un grand appareil militaire et ordonné que les quatre nobles soient enterrés sans son de cloche ni chant d'église dans la chapelle du monastre des Carmes à Nantes.


Le chant populaire est divisé en quatre parties :

La premire partie introduit le récit et raconte l'attachement du peuple à son jeune marquis.
La seconde raconte la dénonciation dont fut l'objet Pontcallec.
La partie suivante narre l'arrestation du marquis, son voyage jusqu'à Nantes, son jugement.
La dernire partie décrit la tristesse de la population, à travers la réaction du recteur de la paroisse dont dépend le château de Pontcallec.


Traitour ! ah! Malloz d'id ! Malloz d'id ! Traitour ! ah ! Malloz d'id ! ah !
Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit ! sois maudit ! Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit !


Bibliographie

Arthur le Moyne de la Borderie, Histoire de la Bretagne, tome VI, Paris, 1898
Pierre de La Condamine, Pontcallec : une étrange conspiration au coeur de la Bretagne, Le bateau qui vire, Guérande, 1974

Illustration

Jeanne Malivel, L'exécution de Pontcallec à Nantes, reproduit dans Cécile Danio, L'Histoire de notre Bretagne, Erm, 1922

Filmographie

Bertrand Tavernier, Que la fte commence, 1974

Transcription

Eur werzeen neve zo savet;
War markiz Pontkalek eo gret;

Diskan
- "Traitour ! ah! Malloz d'id ! Malloz d'id 'ta !
Traitour ! ah ! Malloz d'id ! ah !"

War markiz iaouank Pontkalek,
Ker koant, ken drant, ker kalonek !

Mignon a oa d'ar Vretoned,
Abalamour aneo oa deuet;

Ablamour aneo oa deuet,
Hag etre-z-ho oa bet maget.

Mignon a oa d'ar Vretoned,
D'ar vourc'hizien ne larann ket;

D'ar vourc'hizien ne larann ket,
A zo a-du ar C'hallaoued;

A zo atao' kas gwaska re
N'ho deuz na madou na leve,

Nemet poan ho diou-vrec'h, noz-de,
Evit maga ho mammou d'he.

Laeket en devoa enn he benn
Dizamma d'eomp-ni hor horden;

Gwarizi-tag d'ar vourc'hizien,
O klask ann tu eid hen dibenn.

-"Otru markiz, et da guhet,
Ann tu a zo gant he kavet !"
Un chant nouveau a été composé,
il a été fait sur le marquis de Pontcalec;

Refrain
- "Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit ! sois maudit !
Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit !"

Sur le jeune marquis de Pontcalec,
si beau, si gai, si plein de coeur !

Il aimait les Bretons,
car il était né d'eux;

Car il était né d'eux,
et avait été élevé au milieu d'eux.

Il aimait les Bretons,
mais non pas les bourgeois;

Mais non pas les bourgeois
qui sont tous du parti franais;

Qui sont toujours cherchant à nuire
à ceux qui n'ont ni biens ni rentes,

A ceux qui n'ont que la peine de leurs deux bras, jour et nuit,
pour nourrir leurs mres.

Il avait formé le projet
de nous décharger de notre faix;

Grand sujet de dépit pour les bourgeois
qui cherchaient l'occasion de le faire décapiter.

- "Seigneur marquis, cachez vous vite,
cette occasion, ils l'ont trouvée !"



II
Pellik zo ema dianket;
Evit he glask n'he gaver ket.

Eur paour euz ker, o klask he voed,
Hennez en deuz hen diskuliet.

Eur c'houer n'her defe ket gret,
Pa vije roet d'ean pemp kant skoed.

Gwel Maria'nn est, de evid de,
Ann dragoned oa war vale :

- "Leret-hu d'i-me, dragoned,
O klask ar markiz em'oc'h bet ?"

- "O klask ar markiz em omp bet;
Daoust penoz ema-hen gwisket ?"

- "Er c'hiz diwar 'mez 'ma gwisket;
Glaz he vorled hag hen bordet;

Glaz he jak, ha gwenn he jupenn;
Bodrou-ler, ha bragou lien;

Eunn tokik plouz neudennet-ru;
War he skoa, eur pennad bleo-du;

Eur gouriz-ler; diou bistolenn,
Hag hi a Vro-Spagn, a-zaou denn;

Gat-han dillad pillou-huan,
Gad unan alaouret didan.

Mar fell d'hoch-hu roi d'in tri skoet,
Me a rei d'hoc'h-hu he gaouet."

- "Tri gwennek zo-ken na rimp het,
Toliou sabren, ne laromp ket;

Ne rimp ket zo-ken pemp gwennek,
Ha te rei d'omp kaout Pontkalek."

- "Dragoned ker, enn han Doue !
Na et ked d'ober droug d'i-me :

Na et ked d'ober droug d'i-me;
Ho hencha raktal e rinn-me :

Ha hen du-ze, er zal, ouz tol,
O leina gad person Lignol."
Voilà longtemps qu'il est perdu;
on a beau le chercher, on ne le trouve pas.

Un gueux de la ville, qui mendiait son pain,
est celui qui l'a dénoncé;

Un paysan ne l'eùt pas trahi,
quand on lui eùt offert cinq cents écus.

C'était la fte de Notre-Dame des moissons, jour pour jour,
les dragons étaient en campagne :

- "Dites-moi, dragons,
n'tes-vous pas en qute du marquis ?"

- "Nous sommes en qute du marquis;
sais-tu comment il est vtu ?"

- "Il est vtu à la mode de la campagne;
surtout bleu orné de broderies;

Soubreveste bleue et pourpoint blanc;
gutres de cuir et braies de toile;

Petit chapeau de paille tissu de fils rouges;
sur ses épaules de longs cheveux noirs;

Ceinture de cuir avec deux pistolets
espagnols à deux coups.

Ses habits sont de grosse étoffe,
mais dessous il en a de dorés.

Si vous me donnez trois écus,
je vous le ferai trouver."

- "Nous ne te donnerons pas mme trois sous,
des coups de sabre, c'est différent;

Nous ne te donnerons pas mme trois sous,
et tu nous feras trouver Pontcalec."

- "Chers dragons, au nom de Dieu !
ne me faites point de mal;

Ne me faites point de mal,
je vais vous mettre tout de suite sur ces traces :

Il est là-bas, dans la salle du presbytre, à table,
avec le recteur de Lignol."



III
- "Otrou markiz, tec'het, tec'het !
Me wel erru ann dragoned !"

Me wel ann dragoned erru :
Sternou lugernuz, dillad ru.

- "Me na gredann ked em c'halon,
E krogfe enn on eunn dragon;

Na gredann ket ve deut ar c'hiz
Ma krog ann dragon er markiz."

Oa ked he gomz peur-achuet,
Tre-barz ar zal ho deuz lammet.

Hag hen da beg'nn he bistolenn :
- "Neb a dost ouz-in 'n defo'nn tenn !"

Ar person koz dal 'm 'her gwelaz,
Dirag ar markiz nem strinkaz :

- "Enn hano Doue, ho Salver,
Na dennet ket, ma otrou ker !"

Pa glevaz hano hor Salver
En deuz gouzanvet gand dousder;

Hano hor Salver pa glevaz,
Daoust d'he spered hen a oelaz;

Rez he galon strakaz he zent;
Ken a droc'haz, sonn : "Deomp d'ann hent !"

A-ireuz parrez Lignol pa eo,
Ar gouer paour a lavare,

Laret a ree al Lignoliz :
- "Pec'hed eo eren ar markiz !"

Pa eo ebiou parrez Berne,
Digouet eur frapad bugale :

- "Mad-d'hoc'h ! mad-d'hoc'h ! otrou markiz
Ni ia d'ar vorc'h, d'ar c'hatekiz."

- "Kenavo, bugaligou vad;
N'ho kwelo mui ma daoulagad."

- "Da belec'h et eta, otrou;
Ha dont na reot souden endrou ?"

- "Me na ouzon ked, Doue'r goar;
Bugale baour, me zo war var."

Ho cherisa en defe gret,
Paneved he zaouarn ereet.

Kriz vije'r galon na ranne;
Re'nn dragoned zo-ken a ree;

Potred-a-vrezel, koulskoude,
Ho deuz kalonou kri enn he.

Ha-pa oa digouet e Naoned,
E oa barnet ha kondaonet;

Kondaonet, naren gand tud-par,
Nemet tud koet doc'h lost ar c'harr.

Da Bontkalek deuz int laret :
- "Otrou markiz, petra peuz gret ?"

- "Pez a oa dleet d'in da ober;
Ha gret-hu ive ho micher."
"Seigneur marquis, fuyez ! fuyez !
voici les dragons qui arrivent !"

Voici les dragons qui arrivent :
armures brillantes, habits rouges.

- "Je ne puis croire qu'un dragon
ose porter la main sur moi.

Je ne puis croire que l'usage soit venu
que les dragons portent la main sur les marquis !"

Il n'avait pas fini de parler,
qu'ils avaient envahi la salle.

Et lui de saisir ses pistolets :
- "Si quelqu'un s'approche, je tire !"

Voyant cela, le vieux recteur
se jeta aux genoux du marquis :

- "Au nom de Dieu, votre Sauveur,
ne tirez pas, mon cher seigneur !"

A ce nom de notre Sauveur,
qui a souffert patiemment;

A ce nom de notre Sauveur,
ses larmes coulrent malgré lui;

Contre sa poitrine ses dents claqurent;
mais, se redressant, il sécria "Partons !"

Comme il traversait la paroisse de Lignol,
les pauvres paysans disaient,

Ils disaient, les habitants de Lignol :
- "C'est un grand péché de garotter le marquis !"

Comme il passait prs de Berné,
arriva une bande d'enfants :

- "Bonjour, bonjour, monsieur le marquis :
nous allons au bourg, au catéchisme."

- "Adieu, mes bons petits enfants,
je ne vous verrai plus jamais !"

- "Et où allez-vous donc, seigneur ?
est-ce que vous ne reviendrez pas bientôt ?"

- "Je n'en sais rien, Dieu seul le sait;
pauvres petits, je suis en danger."

Il eùt voulu les caresser,
mais ses mains étaient enchaînées.

Dur eùt été le coeur qui ne se fùt pas ému;
les dragons eux-mmes pleuraient;

Et cependant les gens de guerre
ont des coeurs durs dans leurs poitrines.

Quand il arriva à Nantes,
il fut jugé et condamné,

Condamné, non pas par ses pairs,
mais par des gens tombés de derrire les carrosses.

Ils demandrent à Pontcalec :
-"Seigneur marquis, qu'avez-vous fait ?"

"J'ai fait mon devoir;
faites votre métier !"



IV
D'ar sul kenta pask, hevlene,
Oa kaset kannad da Verne.

- "Iec'hed mad d'hoc'h holl, er ger-ma;
Pale 'ma ar person drema ?"

- "Ma o laret he oferen,
Ma o vonet gand ar bregen."

Pa oa o vonet d'ar gador,
Oa roed d'ean eul lier el leor :

Ne oa ket goest evid he lenn,
Gad ann daelou demeuz he benn.

- "Petra zo c'hoarvet a neve,
Pa oel ar person er c'hiz-ze ?"

- "Goela a rann, ma bugale,
War pez a refac'h-c'hui ive.

Maro, perien, neb ho mage,
Neb ho kwiske, neb ho harpe;

Maro ann hini ho kare,
Berneviz, kouls evel on-me,

Maro neb a gare he vro,
Hag her grez beteg ar maro;

Maro da zaou vloa war-n-ugent,
Vel ar verzerien hag ar zent;

Doue, ho pet out-han truez !
Marv e 'nn otrou ! marv e ma mouez !"

- "Traitour ! ah! Malloz d'id ! Malloz d'id 'ta !
Traitour ! ah ! Malloz d'id ! ah !"
Le premier dimanche de Pâques, de cette année,
un messager est arrivé à Berné.

- "Bonne santé à vous tous, en ce bourg;
où est le recteur par ici ?"

- "Il est à dire la grand'messe,
voilà qu'il va commencer le prône."

Comme il montait en chaire,
on lui remit une lettre dans son livre :

Il ne pouvait pas la lire,
tant ses yeux se remplissaient de larmes.

- "Qu'est-il arrivé de nouveau,
que le recteur pleure ainsi ?"

- "Je pleure, mes enfants,
pour une chose qui vous fera pleurer vous-mmes :

Il est mort, chers pauvres, celui qui vous nourrissait,
qui vous vtissait, qui vous soutenait;

Il est mort celui qui vous aimait,
habitants de Berné, comme je vous aime;

Il est mort celui qui aimait son pays,
et qui l'a aimé jusqu'à mourir pour lui;

Il est mort à vingt-deux ans,
comme meurent les martyrs et les saints.

Mon Dieu, ayez pitié de son âme !
le seigneur est mort ! ma voix meurt !"

- "Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit ! sois maudit !
Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit !"



Remarque
Dans le chant, chaque couplet a son premier vers suivi du premier vers du refrain. Parfois, cet ensemble est répété. La totalité du refrain suit chaque couplet.

Notes

trahi, gueux de la ville
Pontcallec ne fut pas trahi par un mendiant comme le veut la légende, mais par l'un des conjurés : Chemendy, sénéchal du Faouö‚t, ami, hôte et confident de Pontcallec. Il fut ensuite dénoncé par son valet, sous la pression de ses poursuivants.
retour

jeune
La tradition veut que Pontcallec ait une vingtaine d'années; en réalité il était agé de 40 ans.
retour

bourgeois
La légende veut que la plus grande partie de la noblesse et des populations rurales entrrent dans cette ligue contre la France. La bourgeoisie resta seule en dehors du mouvement. Elle était entirement dévouée au Régent.
retour

peine
A cette époque, une résistance à payer les impots royaux s'était installée en Bretagne, surtout chez les gentilshommes.
retour

dragons
Face aux mouvements de rébellion et à plusieurs émeutes, le Régent avait fait venir en Bretagne plusieurs régiments de dragons. En tout, prs de 15 000 hommes étaient commandés par le Maréchal de Montesquiou.
retour

Lignol
Lignol est un bourg situé à quelques kilomtres du château de Pontcallec. C'est en effet chez le curé de Lignol que s'était réfugié Pontcallec et qu'il fut arrté. Le Recteur fut lui-aussi arrté.
retour

Partons
Ceci se passait le jeudi 28 décembre 1719, à 6 heures du matin. L'Histoire dit que le bruit des chevaux avait réveillé Pontcallec mais que celui-ci était si misérable que c'est couché qu'il fut prit. Il n'offrit aucune résistance lors de son arrestation.
retour

Berné
Le château de Pontcallec est situé sur la paroisse de Berné. Aprs son arrestation, Pontcallec fut conduit à Guémené-sur-Scorff pour y tre interrogé, puis le lendemain transferré à Nantes, dans une voiture escortée de soldats. Les rencontres avec la population tiennent de la légende et sont en contradiction avec le peu d'estime portée au Marquis par ses paysans.
retour

tombés de derrire les carrosses
C'est le nom breton des parvenus (mot-à-mot : de la queue des carrosses). Pontcallec et ses complices furent jugés par un tribunal d'exception : la Chambre Royale de Justice, mise en place à Nantes le 30 octobre 1719 par le Régent et dirigée par un conseiller du Régent, Antoine de Castagnéry, non-Breton (il était Savoyard), agé de 70 ans.
retour

lettre
Cette lettre qui apprend au Recteur de Berné la mort du Marquis a été écrite par l'un des pres Carmes qui ont assisté les condamnés. Tous quatre furent ensevelis dans l'église du couvent des Carmes de Nantes.
retour

mort
Pontcallec et ses trois complices furent décapités le 25 mars 1720 à Nantes sur la place du Bouffay. L'exécution de Pontcallec fut particulirement laborieuse.
retour

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Nantes, place du Bourffay

URL

http://www.bretagnenet.com/strobinet/barzaz/ponca2.htm
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 13:58:42 +1000
<![CDATA[Das Haslibacherlied]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1035

Title

Das Haslibacherlied

Subtitle

Ein schön geistlich Lied von dem Hasslibacher, wie er vom Leben zum Tod ist gerichtet worden.
Seines Glaubens wegen hingerichtet in Bern am 20. Oktober 1571

Synopsis

In 1571, Anabaptist Hans Haslibacher was martyred in Bern, Switzerland. Born in Sumiswald c. 1500, Haslibacher joined the oft-suppressed movement in 1532 and quickly established himself as one of the most energetic proselytizers in the Emmental in Bern canton. As an influential baptist teacher, he participated in the Bern Baptist Disputation in March 1538 and was finally beheaded on October 20, 1571 in Bern in 1571 following repeated arrests and expulsions.
The song “Das Haslibacherlied” alleges that Haslibacher prophesied that his death would be marked with three signs:

His head when struck off would spring into a hat and laugh aloud;
The sun would turn blood-red;
The town fountain would spew blood.

According to the song, all three prophesies came to pass … and the hangman too was heard to say: / ‘Tis guiltless blood I’ve shed today.”
Hans Haslibacher was the last Anabaptist put to death for his faith in Bern.

Image notice


Illustration zum Haslibacher-Lied von Rudolf Münger in der Liedersammlung Im Röseligarte von Otto von Greyerz, 3. Bändchen, Seite 28.




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

Transcription

1.Was wend wir aber heben an,
Zu singen von ein'm altem Mann,
Der war von Hasslibach,
Hasslibacher ward er genannt,
Aus der Kilchöri Simmiswald.

2.
Da das der lieb Gott zu thät lan
Dass er wurd hart geklaget an,
Wohl um den Glauben sein,
Da hat man ihn gefangen hart,
Führt ihn gen Bern wohl in die Stadt.

3.
Und da er nun gefangen ward,
Gepeinigt und gemartet hart,
Wohl um sein Glauben schon,
Jedoch war er geständig g'sehn,
In seiner Marter, Angst und Pein.

4.
An ein'm Freytag, thut mich verstahn,
Thäten die G'lehrten zu ihm gahn ,
Wohl in die G'fangenschaft,
Fingen zu disputieren an,
Er soll von sein'm Glauben abstahn.

5.
Der Hasslibacher auf der Stätt
Sie überdisputieret hätt,
Da sprach er bald zu ihn'n,
Von mein'm Glaub'n thu ich nicht abstan,
Eh will ich Leib und leben lahn.

6.
Und da es nun am Samstag war,
Die G'lehrten gingen aber dar,
Redten ihm heftig zu,
Du musst von deinem Glauben stahn,
Oder man wird dein Haupt abschlan.

7.
Gar bald er ihn'n zur Antwort gab,
Ich steh nicht von mein'm Glauben ab,
Ich halt ihn festiglich,
Dann mein Glaub ist vor Gott so gut,
Er wird mich han in Schirm und Hut.

8.
Und wie es war am Samstag Nacht,
Ein Engel Gottes kam mit Macht,
Zum Hasslibacher hin,
Sprach, Gott hat mich zu dir gesendt,
Zu trösten dich vor deinem End.

9.
Weiters thu ich dir zeigen an,
Von deinem Glauben thu nicht stahn,
Darauf bleib steif und vest,
Dein Glaub der ist vor Gott so gut,
Er hält dein Seel in guter Hut.

10.
Ob man dir schon wird dräuen hart,
Man woll ich richten mit dem Schwerdt,
Erschrick du nicht darob,
Ich will an deiner Seiten stahn,
Kein Schmerzen wirst dadurch empfahn.

11.
Und da es an dem Montag war,
Die G'lehrten kamen nochmal dar,
Zum Hasslibacher hin,
Fingen mit ihm zu reden an,
Er soll von seinem Glauben stahn.

12.
Wo nicht, sagten sie ohne Spott,
Morgen musst du leiden den Tod.
Der Hasslibacher sprach:
Eh ich von meinem Glauben stahn,
Eh lass ich mir mein haupt abschlan.

13.
Hört wie es am Montag zu Nacht,
Der Hasslibacher hart entschlaft,
Bis um die Mitternacht,
Da traumet ihm es sehe Tag,
Man wolle ihm sein Haupt abschlagn.

14.
Der Hasslibacher wacht darob,
Da war es beh ihm heiter Tag,
Ein Büchlein lag vor ihm,
Ein Engel Gottes zu ihm sagt:
Lies du was in dem Büchlein staht.

15.
Da er das Büchlein lesen thät,
Fand er dass es darinnen steht,
Man werd sein Haupt abschlan,
Drei Zeichen werd Gott sehen lahn,
Dass man ihme unrecht gethan.

16.
Un da ers ausgelesen hat,
Da wurd es wieder finster Nacht,
Gar bald er wiedr entschlief
Und schlaft bis an den heitern Tag,
Dass man zu ihm ins G'fängnis kam.

17.
Da wünscht man ihm ein guten Tag,
Gar bald er ihn'n gedanket hat,
Darnach sagt man zu ihm,
Da göttlich Wort er hören soll.
Sonst müsst er ess'n das Henkermahl.

18.
Von mein'm Glaub thu ich nicht abstahn,
Das Göttlich Wort ich selber kann,
Mein Sach befehl ich Gott,
Es ist mein'm Herz ein ringe Buss,
Wann ich unschuldig sterben muss.

19.
Ins Wirtshaus führt man ihn führwahr,
Man stellt ihm Ess'n und trinken dar,
Den Henker neben ihm
Dass er soll in ein Grausen komm'n,
Und noch vom Glauben gar abstohn.

20.
Der Täufer sprach zum Henker gut,
Nun esst und trinkt, send wohl zu Muth,
Ihr werdet heutigs Tags
Hinrichten mein unschuldig Blut,
Ist aber meiner Seelen gut.

21.
Er sprach auch, Gott wird sehen lan,
Drei Zeichen , das thut wohl verstahn,
Die wird man sehen bald,
Wann ihr schlaget ab mein Haupt,
Springts in mein Hut und lachet laut.

22.
Das ander Zeichen wird geschehn,
Das wird man an der Sonnen sehn,
Aufs dritt habt fleissig Acht,
Die Sonn wird werd'n wie rothes Blut,
Der Stadel-Brunn auch schwitzen Blut.

23.
Der Richter zu den Herren sagt,
Auf die drei Zeichen habet Acht,
Und sehet wohl darauf,
Wann nun diss alles soll geschehn,
So g'schicht es eurer Seelen weh.

24.
Und da das Mahl nun hat ein End,
Man wolt ihm binden seine Händ,
Der Hasslibacher sprach:
Ich bitt euch Meister Lorenz schon,
Ihr wollt mich ungebunden lohn.

25.
Ich bin gutwillig und bereit,
Mein Tod mich heftig wohl erfreut,
Dass ich von hinnen soll,
Aber Gott woll erbarmen sich,
Die zum Tod verurtheilet mich.

26.
Da er nun auf die Richtstatt kam,
Sein Hut von seinem Haupt abnahm,
Und legt ihn für die Leut,
Euch bitt ich meister Lorenz gut,
Lasst mir hie liegen meinen Hut.

27.
Hiemit fiel er auf seine Kneu,
Ein Vater Unser oder zweu
Er da gebetet hat,
Mein Sach ist jetzt gesetzt zu Gott,
Thut jetzt nur eurem Urtheil statt.

28.
Darnach man ihm sein Haupt abschlug,
Da sprang es wieder in sein Hut,
Die Zeichen hat man gshen
Die Sonne ward wie rothes Blut.
Der Stadel-Brunn thät schwitzen Blut.

29.
Da sprach ein alter Herre gut,
Des Täufers Mund lacht in dem Hut,
Da sagt ein grauer Herr,
Hätt ihr den Täufer leben lahn,
Es würd euch ewig wohl ergahn.

30.
Die Herren sprachen imsgemein,
Kein Täufer wir mehr richten wend,
Da sprach ein alter Herr:
Wär es nach meinem Willen gahn,
Den Täufer hätt man leben lahn.

31.
Der Henker der sprach mit Unmuth:
Heut hab ich g'richt unschuldig Blut.
Da sprach ein alter Herr,
Des Täufers Mund hat g'lacht im Hut,
Da beduet Gottes Straff und Ruth.

32.
Der uns diss Liedlein hat gemacht,
Der war ums Leb'n in G'fangenschaft,
Den Sündern thät ers z'Lieb,
Ein Herr ihm Federn und Tinten bracht,
Er schenkt uns das zu guter Nacht.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

heresy

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Bern, Switzerland

URL

Hans Haslibacherby Eduard Muster.

Notes

The Swiss Anabaptists are noteworthy as the confessional ancestors of the present-day Amish: the latter sect is named for 17th century Bern canton Anabaptist Jakob Ammann, who was the leader of one faction in a 1693 schism within the Swiss Anabaptist community.

The Haslibacher song was widely distributed in Anabaptist circles. It also found its way into the Anabaptist songbook Ausbund in the 17th century, still used by the Amish today. Also in later editions of the Martyrs' Mirror, a martyrology of Anabaptists (another key text for the Amish) reference is made to the Haslibacher Song.
ulf_51_Hans_Haslibacher.jpg
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 1.tif
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 2.tif
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 3.tif
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 4.tif
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 5.tif
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 6.tif
Ein schön Geistlich Lied von dem Haßlibacher 7.tif
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 14:57:56 +1000
<![CDATA[Zwey erbärmliche und betrübte Newe Zeitungen / Die Erste / Von einem Schmied in Schwäbischen Hall]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1060

Title

Zwey erbärmliche und betrübte Newe Zeitungen / Die Erste / Von einem Schmied in Schwäbischen Hall

Subtitle

mit seiner Frawen, Tochter unnd Knecht / unnd was sie für schreckliche Ubelthaten haben begangen. Die ander Zeitun / So sich im Schwarz Wald in einem Dorff New Rothe / nicht weit von Su..n gelegen / mit einer Braut und Breutigamb begeben hat. Solches werden fromme Christen in diesen Gesang vernehmen / Ist geschehen in Monat Augusti dieses 1645. Jahre. Im Thon: Hilff Gott daß mir gelinge / &c.

Digital Object

Image notice

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

Image / Audio Credit

Bayerische Staatsbibliothek VD17 12:666833B. Deutsche Digitale Bibliothek

Set to tune of...

Hilff Gott daß mir gelinge

Method of Punishment

beheading, wheel

Crime(s)

murder

Date

Printing Location

Heilbronn: Christoph Kraus, 1645
Zwey erbärmliche und betrübte Newe Zeitungen.jpg
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 14:57:59 +1000
<![CDATA[Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna alli 3. di Genaro M.D. LXXXVII.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1072

Title

Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna alli 3. di Genaro M.D. LXXXVII.

Synopsis

Ippolita Pensarotti and Ludovico Landinelli

Set to tune of...

terza rima

Transcription

Un nuovo caso, una perversa sorte,
Di due infelici, e sfortunata Amanti
Narro, e'l lor tristo fin la cruda morte.
Ma se successo tal convien ch'io canti,
Giovenai incanti, non sdegate udire,
E prendete da lor l'essempio inanti.

Composer of Ballad

Giulio Cesare Croce

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Bologna

URL

http://books.google.com.au/books?id=-voiewiPzYUC&pg=PA327&lpg=PA327&dq=meryl+bailey+caso+compassionevole&source=bl&ots=nSNsCiqPMu&sig=tfzzIjdFiNFgvgIsaY6vOLVCku0&hl=en&sa=X&ei=x1y5UYazCIXTkQX1yIGADQ&ved=0CC8Q6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=meryl%20bailey%20caso%20compassionevole&f=false
Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna pg 1.jpg
Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna pg 2.jpg
Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna pg 3.jpg
Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna pg 4.jpg
Caso compassionevole et lacrimoso lamento di duoi infelici Amanti condannati all Giustitia in Bologna pg 5.jpg
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 15:02:06 +1000
<![CDATA[Il Compassionevole et memorabil caso, della morte della regina di Scotia]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1075

Title

Il Compassionevole et memorabil caso, della morte della regina di Scotia

Method of Punishment

beheading

Date

Printing Location

In Vicenza : appresso Agostino dalla Noce, 1587

URL

http://opac.sbn.it/opacsbn/opaclib?db=solr_iccu&select_db=solr_iccu&Invia=Cerca&saveparams=false&resultForward=opac%2Ficcu%2Ffull.jsp&searchForm=opac%2Ficcu%2Ffree.jsp&do_cmd=search_show_cmd&nentries=1&rpnlabel=+Tutti+i+campi+%3D+compassionevole+++%28parole+in+AND%29+&rpnquery=%2540attrset%2Bbib-1%2B%2B%2540attr%2B1%253D1016%2B%2540attr%2B4%253D6%2B%2522compassionevole%2522&&fname=none&from=9

Notes

Mary Queen of Scots
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 15:02:06 +1000
<![CDATA[Il lagrimoso lamento della mag.ca mad.a Hippolita Passerotti bolognese.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1079

Title

Il lagrimoso lamento della mag.ca mad.a Hippolita Passerotti bolognese.

Subtitle

Qual fu decapitata in Bologna adi 3. di Genaio 1587. con il magnifico M. Ludouico Landinelli. Nuouamente posto in luce. Per M. Marc'Antonio Ferrari bolognese.

Synopsis

Ippolita Pensarotti and Ludovico Landinelli

Set to tune of...

Transcription

AHI dispietata, & inhumana sorte,
Nemica sempre a me tu sci pur stata,
Ne abandonata m hai per sin' a morte,
Contraria fusti a me da poi che nata;
Fui, dal ventre materno, e cosi strana,
Piu ch'Orsa, o Tigre, in ver di me arabbiata.
Sei stata, a me crudel' perversa e vana,
Fortuna ingrata, maledette, e ria,
Che seguir mi volesti, ö_ cruda, ö_ strana.
Tu mi fusti crudel', ma non mai pia,
Et mi tenesti sempre in guai, e pianti
E quivi mi troncasti tö_ la via.
Non valse a me virtö_, suoni, ne canti;
Che mi tenevan grata a l altre donne,
Me li hai hor tun conversi in duri pianti.
Vestir pur mi solea di Bianche gonne,
Di panni neri tu m'hai fatto un dono,
Quai denotan a me pena e passione.

[more]

Veggio ch'apertö_ hai lo Sante Braccie,
Sopra del legno della Santa Croce,
Tu il Demonio da me lunge discaccia.
A te rivolgo gl'occhi, e con la voce,
Per don ti chieggio, ahime del min fallire
Il qual tanto mi duole, e tanto nuoce.
Fa che quest* alma possa in Ciel salire,
A riposar fra l'angeliche squadre,
Che divernirvi, e pur il suo desire.
So pur Signo che con voglie leggiadre,
Tu perdonasti gia a quel ladro, quando,
Raccomandasti l'alma el spirto al Padre.
Eccomi, ch'io vengo seguitando,
Il santo e scur stendar do della morte,
E le tue pene vengo contemplando
Ho tu del Ciel benigne santa Corte,
Dinanzi al tribunal del gran motort,
Siate vi prego side e degna scorte.
Ho regina sacrata a tutte l'hore,
Prega il tuo siglio che mi dia fortezza,
Contra il salso Nemico traditore
E dona all'alma mia pace e allegrezza.
IL FINE.

Composer of Ballad

Ferrari, Marc'Antonio

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Bologna

Printing Location

In Bologna : appresso Alessandro Benacci, [1587?].

URL

http://books.google.com.au/books?id=lAEYAAAAYAAJ&pg=RA1-PA64&lpg=RA1-PA64&dq=Hippolita+Passerotti+decapitata&source=bl&ots=SDPV-4PEFs&sig=4VAp_sIUWQyL5V9UKlDxhxp9kCI&hl=en&sa=X&ei=ZFq5UdjwIsaWkgWFiYHQDQ&ved=0CDkQ6AEwAg#v=onepage&q=Hippolita%20Passerotti%20decapitata&f=false

Notes

cf: Croce verses on same topic, Meryl Bailey
Il lagrimoso lamento .jpg
Il lagrimoso lamento 2.jpg
Il lagrimoso lamento 3.jpg
Il lagrimoso lamento 4.jpg
Il lagrimoso lamento 5.jpg
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 15:02:06 +1000
<![CDATA[Lamento della regina d'Inghilterra, nella morte del re suo marito, decapitato dal popolo d'Inghilterra.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1090

Title

Lamento della regina d'Inghilterra, nella morte del re suo marito, decapitato dal popolo d'Inghilterra.

Subtitle

Diretto all'illustrissimo signore abbate Centini, dall'accademico catenato detto il volubile

Synopsis

Charles I
Lament of the Queen of England, on the death of her husband, beheaded by the people of England. Directed to the illustrious Sir Abbot Centini, of the academy....

Method of Punishment

beheading

Gender

Date

Printing Location

In Macerata : nella stamparia di Serafino Paradisi, 1649

URL

http://www.sbn.it/opacsbn/opaclib?db=solr_iccu&select_db=solr_iccu&saveparams=false&resultForward=opac%2Ficcu%2Ffull.jsp&searchForm=opac%2Ficcu%2Ffree.jsp&y=0&do_cmd=search_show_cmd&x=0&nentries=1&rpnlabel=+Tutti+i+campi+%3D+lamento+decapitat*+%28parole+in+AND%29+&rpnquery=%2540attrset%2Bbib-1%2B%2540and%2B%2B%2540attr%2B1%253D1016%2B%2540attr%2B4%253D6%2B%2540attr%2B%2B5%253D1%2B%2B%2522decapitat%2522%2B%2B%2540attr%2B1%253D1016%2B%2540attr%2B4%253D6%2B%2522lamento%2522&&fname=none&from=2
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 15:02:07 +1000
<![CDATA[Seconda parte delle rime raccolte nel compassioneuole successo di dui infelici amanti Hippolita, et Lodouico.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1101

Title

Seconda parte delle rime raccolte nel compassioneuole successo di dui infelici amanti Hippolita, et Lodouico.

Subtitle

Hor miseramente decapitati in Bolog. alli 3. di genaio.

Synopsis

Ippolita Pensarotti e Ludovico Landinelli

Set to tune of...

dialogues: first between Love and Death, second between Hippolita and Ludovico
Rhyme scheme: abccbddeeff
Dialogue between lovers, sonnets: abba abba cde cde

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

murder

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Bologna

Printing Location

[Bologna] : apresso Alessandro Benacci, 1587.

Notes

missing a page of the dialogue between the lovers
Seconda parte della rime.jpg
Seconda parte della rime 2.jpg
Seconda parte della rime 3.jpg
Seconda parte della rime 4.jpg
]]>
Thu, 24 May 2018 15:02:09 +1000
<![CDATA[Complainte du Maréchal de Biron sur son Emprisonnement fait à Fontainebleau]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1222

Title

Complainte du Maréchal de Biron sur son Emprisonnement fait à Fontainebleau

Subtitle

Sur le chant, de Verdun

Synopsis

Maréchal de Biron in prison relates his arrest and final days before his execution

Set to tune of...

Verdun

Transcription

Je vous prie écoutez,
Messieurs une Chanson,
Du pauvre mal-heureux,
Maréchal de Brion,
Lequel j’ose parler
En estant homicide
Le voilà Prisonnier
Tenu dans la Bastille.

Par un Lundy matin,
Vint à Fontainebleau,
Pour y parler au Roy,
Ignorant de l’assaut
Lors j’apperçeus dequoy,
De toutes les menées,
Qu’ils avoient à la fin
Helas! sur moy jettées.

Quand j’eus parlé au Roy
Me pensay retirer,
Par Monsieur de Vitry,
Je fus pris Prisonnier,
Et fut mis avec moi
La grand Comte d’Auvergne
Par Monsieur de Praslain,
Capitaine des Gardes.

Toute cette nuit la
Nous fumes enfermez
Châcun dans une chambre
Et sûrement gardez
Par Monsieur de Praslain,
Luy & sa campagnie
Jusques au lendemain
Les dix heurs sonnées.

Le samedy matin,
Nous fumes mis sur l’eau,
Ce grad Comte d’Auvergne
Et moy dans un bateau,
Nous fumes amenez
A Paris la grande Ville,
Nous voilà Prisonniers,
Tenus dans la Bastille.

Quand la dedans nous fumes
Et nous fort étonnez
Car jamais nous ne sçûmes
Au Roy pour tout parler,
Jusques à mes parent
Las! qui m’abandonnerent
Quand ils sçeurent ma mort,
Jusqu’à mon propre frere.

Monsieur de Barenton,
Vous estes mon amy,
annoncé à mon nom,
A Monsieur de Rosny,
Las! que je prie le Roy
Monsieur je vous supplie,
Qu’il ait pitié de moy,
Qu’il me sauve la vie.

Rosny a fait réponse,
Au sieur de Barenton,
Il ne faut plus parler,
De Monsieur de Biron,
Car le Mardy dernier,
Monsieur je vous asseure
Le jugement de mort
Est donné je vous jure.

Mais étant à par moi
Mon coeur s’est courroucé,
Je vous ay offensé,
Sire, pardonnez moy:
Ainsi que voudriez
Las! que Dieu vous pardonne,
Celuy qui vous a mis
Sur le Chef la Couronne.

Or adieu la Gascogne,
Pays d’où je suis né,
Adieu les braves hommes
Dont je suis estimé,
Et pays que j’ay vû
La Bresse & la Savoye
Où c’est que j’ay reçû
Sur mon corps maintes playes.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Bastille, Paris, France

Printing Location

Troyes

Notes

Charles de Gontaut, duc de Biron (1562 – 31 July 1602) was a French soldier whose military achievements were accompanied by plotting to dismember France and set himself up as ruler of an independent Burgundy.
He was born in Saint-Blancard. He was the son of Armand de Gontaut, baron de Biron, under whose command he fought for the royal party against the Catholic League in the later stages of the Wars of Religion in France. His efforts won him the name “Thunderbolt of France” (Latin: Fulmen Galliae). Henry IV made him admiral of France in 1592, and marshal in 1594. As governor of Burgundy in 1595, he took the towns of Beaune, Autun, Auxonne and Dijon, and distinguished himself at the battle of Fontaine-Française. In 1596 he was sent to fight the Spaniards in Flanders, Picardy, Artois and finally at the Siege of Amiens where he funded much of the King's army.

After the peace of Vervins, he discharged a mission at Brussels in 1598. From that time, he was engaged in intrigues with Spain and Savoy aiming at the overthrow of the Bourbon dynasty, the dismemberment of the kingdom of France into provincial states, and his own elevation as sovereign of Burgundy. Notwithstanding these intrigues, he directed the expedition sent against the duke of Savoy (1599–1600). He fulfilled diplomatic missions for Henry in Switzerland (1600) and England (1601), the latter mission being to announce the marriage of Henry to Maria de' Medici.

While engaged in these duties, he was accused and convicted in his absence of high treason by the French Parlement. He was induced to come to Paris, where he was apprehended and then beheaded in the Bastille on 31 July 1602.
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Wed, 11 Dec 2019 12:08:41 +1100
<![CDATA[A newe ballade made of Thomas Crumwel, called ‘Trolle on away’]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1293

Title

A newe ballade made of Thomas Crumwel, called ‘Trolle on away’

Synopsis

This song celebrates the beheading on Tower Hill on 28 July 1540 of Thomas Cromwell, Henry VIII's chief adviser. It is the earliest English execution ballad that can be reliably dated. The singer addresses Cromwell directly, mocking his rise from a low birth to the unprecedented heights he achieved.

Digital Object


Image notice

Full size image/s available at the bottom of this page.

Image / Audio Credit

Thomas Percy, Percy's reliques of ancient English poetry (London: Dent, 1910), 327-329. Audio recording by Jenni Hyde.

Set to tune of...

Transcription

Trolle on away, trolle on awaye,
Synge heave and howe rombelowe trolle on away.

Both man and chylde is glad to here tell
Of that false traytoure Thomas Crumwell,
Now that he is set to learne to spell.
Synge trolle on away.

When fortune lokyd the in thy face,
Thou haddest fayre tyme, but thou lackydyst grace;
Thy cofers with golde thou fyllydst a pace,
Synge, &c.

Both plate and chalys came to thy fyst,
Thou lockydst them vp where no man wyst,
Tyll in the kynges treasoure such things were myst.
Synge, &c.

Both crust and crumme came thorowe thy handes,
Thy marchaundyse sayled over the sandes,
Therfore nowe thou art layde fast in bandes.
Synge, &c.

Fyrste when Kynge Henry, God saue his grace!
Perceyud myschefe kyndlyd in thy face,
Then it was tyme to purchase the a place.
Synge, &c.

Hys grace was euer of gentyll nature,
Mouyd with petye, and made the hys seruyture;
But thou, as a wretche, suche thinges dyd procure.
Synge, &c.

Thou dyd not remembre, false heretyke,
One God, one fayth, and one kynge catholyke,
For thou hast bene so long a scysmatyke.
Synge, &c.

Thou woldyst not learne to knowe these thre;
But euer was full of iniquite:
Wherfore all this lande hathe ben troubled with the.
Synge, &c.

All they, that were of the new trycke,
Agaynst the churche thou baddest them stycke;
Wherfore nowe thou haste touchyd the quycke.
Synge, &c.

Bothe sacramentes and sacramentalles
Thou woldyst not suffre within thy walles;
Nor let vs praye for all chrysten soules.
Synge, &c.

Of what generacyon thou were no tonge can tell,
Whyther of Chayme, or Syschemell,
Or else sent vs from the deuyll of hell.
Synge, &c.

Thou woldest neuer to vertue applye,
But couetyd euer to clymme to hye,
And nowe haste thou trodden thy shoo awrye.
Synge, &c.

Who-so-euer dyd winne thou wolde not lose;
Wherfore all Englande doth hate the, as I suppose,
Bycause thou wast false to the redolent rose.
Synge, &c.

Thou myghtest have learned thy cloth to flocke
Upon thy gresy fullers stocke;
Wherfore lay downe thy heade vpon this blocke.
Synge, &c.

Yet saue that soule, that God hath bought,
And for thy carcas care thou nought,
Let it suffre payne, as it hath wrought.
Synge, &c.

God saue King Henry with all his power,
And Prynce Edwarde that goodly flowre,
With al hys lordes of great honoure.

Synge trolle on awaye, syng trolle on away.
Hevye and how rombelowe trolle on awaye.

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tower Hill

Printing Location

Original in Antiquarian Society, in a large folio Collection of Proclamations, &c
On Thomas Lord Cromwell from Percy's Reliques pg 1.png
On Thomas Lord Cromwell from Percy's Reliques pg 2.png
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Tue, 23 Feb 2021 21:17:48 +1100
<![CDATA[¶A balade agaynst malycyous Sclaunderers.]]> https://omeka.cloud.unimelb.edu.au/execution-ballads/items/show/1294

Title

¶A balade agaynst malycyous Sclaunderers.

Synopsis

A response ballad to 'A newe ballade made of Thomas Crumwell' which tries to rehabilitate the fallen favourite, while being careful not to question the king's judgment. The author of this ballad and the previous one produced so many vitriolic ballads on the subject that they were ultimately imprisoned for a few weeks.

Digital Object


Image notice

Full size image/s available at the bottom of this page.

Image / Audio Credit

Society of Antiquaries Library, Early English Books, 1475-1640 (STC), Reel position 1861:04, EEBO link (institutional login required). Audio recording by Jenni Hyde.

Set to tune of...

Transcription

¶Heue aud how rumbelow thou arte to blame
Trolle into the right way agayne for shame.

TRolle into the way / trolle in and retrolle
Small charyte and lesse wytte is in thy nolle
Thus for to rayle vpon a christen soule
Wherfore men thynke the worthy blame
Trolle into the way agayne for shame.

¶Thou makest a trollyng hyther and thyther
Somtyme thou trollest thou canst not tell whyther
But if all thy trollynges were gathered togyther
Thy trollynge might trym the and tourne the to blame
Wherfore trolle thou nowe into the way for shame

❧Although lord Crumwell a traytour was
yet dare I saye that the kynge of his grace
Hath forgyuen him that gret trespas
To tayle than on dead men / thou arte to blame
Trolle now into the way agayne for shame.

❧In that that he the law hath offended
By the lawe he is iustly condempned
This mortall lyfe / full godly he ended
Wherfore to rayle thus / thou art to blame
Trolle into the way agayne for shame.

¶For all his offences in euery thyng
He asked god mercy and grace of the kynge
And of all the wyde world / for his trāsgressyng
Thou nor no man can say nay to the same
Trolle into the way than agayne for shame

☜Thou takest his treason for thy subtyll defence
Which nowe is departed and gone from hence
But men spye the pricke of all thy pretence
Thy owne sayenges folowyng declare the same
Trolle into the way / for fere or for shame

¶Thou sayest he was with the church to quycke
Fauouryng none but of the new trycke
But nowe thou spurnest agaynst the prycke
And thou of force / must confesse the same
Trolle into the way agayne for shame

☜For bysshops haue now as they haue had
If preestes wold complayne / they were to mad
Wherfore thou apperest to be a popysshe lad
For vsyng thy popery / thou arte to blame
Trolle into the way agayne for shame.

❧For here thou vpholdest both monkes and fryers
Nunnes and noughty packes / and lewed lowsy lyers
The bysshop of Rome / with all his rotten squyers
To buylde such a church / thou arte moche to blame
Trolle nowe into the way agayne for shame.

❧May not men thynke now in the meane ceason
That thou hast deserued by ryght and by reason
As moch as he hath done for clokynge thy treason
For he was a traytour / and thou arte the same
Trolle away papyst / god gyue the shame.

¶The sacrament of the aulter / that is most hyest
Crumwell beleued it to be the very body of Chriest
Wherfore in thy writyng / on him thou lyest
For the kynge & his counsell wyll wytnesse the same
Trolle into the waye / than agayne for shame

☜Although that he of byrth were but bace
yet was he set vp of the kynges noble grace
Wherby it appereth that thou woldest deface
The kynges royall power / dispysyng the same
Trolle away traytour / god gyue the shame.

¶Is it thy facyon thus craftely to saye?
Let vs for the kynge / and his lordes praye
And than at the last / to trolle them awaye
With heue and how rumbelow / thy wordes be the same
Both written and printed / to thy great shame?

☜Hast thou no man els / thou dronken soll
But the kynge and his nobles / away for to troll
It were ynough for to cost the thy poll
Both thyne and all other / that wold do the same
Trolle away traytoure / god gyue the shame.

¶A prety wyse printer belyke he was
Which of his printyng / so lytell doth pas
To print such pylde poetry / as this same was
Lyke maker / lyke printer / two trolles of the game
A payre of good papystes / ye be payne of shame

☜God send all traytours their hole desa•tes
God send small toye / to all popysshe hartes
And euyll hap to as many as do take their partes
God send their purpose neuer to frame
But trolle them away with sorow and shame.

¶I pray god thou be not fownde one of those
That peruarteth the people / as I suppose
From redyng of gods worde / that goodly rose
Where the counsell commaundeth to occupy the same
Thou traytor allurest them this fayre floure to defame.

❧God preserue and kepe the kynges noble grace
With prince Edwarde his sonne / to succede in his place
God kepe them amonge vs / longe tyme and space
Let all his true subiectes / say Amen to the same
And they that wold otherwyse / god send them shame.

¶Finis.

Composer of Ballad

William Gray

Method of Punishment

beheading

Crime(s)

treason

Gender

Date

Execution Location

Tower Hill

Printing Location

☜Prentyd at London in Lombard strete nere
vnto the Stockes market at the sygne
of the Mermayde by Iohn
Gough.

Cum preuilegio Ad imprimendum solum

O domine in uirtute tua letabitur Rex, &c.

Original located in Antiquarian Society, in a large folio Collection of Proclamations, &c
A Balade agaynst malycyous sclaunderers.jpg
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Tue, 23 Feb 2021 21:34:49 +1100