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            <name>Title</name>
            <description>A name given to the resource</description>
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                <text>English Execution Ballads</text>
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    <name>Execution Ballad</name>
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        <name>Transcription</name>
        <description>Transcription of ballad lyrics</description>
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            <text>YOUNG men and maidens all give ear,					     Unto what I shall now relate;&#13;
O mark you well, and you shall hear,						     Of my unhappy fate:&#13;
Near unto famous Oxford town,						     I first did draw my breath,&#13;
Oh! that I had been cast away,							     In an un[t]imely birth.&#13;
My tender parents brought me up,						     Provided for me well.&#13;
And in the town of Witt[a]m then,						     They placd me in a mill.&#13;
By chance upon an Oxford lass,						     I cast a wanton eye,&#13;
And promisd I would marry her,&#13;
If she would with me lie&#13;
But to the world I do declare,						     With sorrow, grief and woe,&#13;
This folly brought us in a snare,						     And wrought our overthrow.&#13;
For the damsel came to me, and said,					     By you I am with child:&#13;
I hope, dear John, youll marry me,					     For you have me defild.&#13;
Soon after that, her mother came,						     As you shall understand,&#13;
And oftentimes did me persuade,						     To wed her out of hand.&#13;
And thus perplexd on every side,						     I could no comfort find,&#13;
So for to make away with her,						     A thought came in my mind.&#13;
About a month from Christmas then,					     Oh! cursed be the day,&#13;
The devil then did me persuade,						     To take her life away.&#13;
I calld her from her sisters door,						     At eight oclock at night,&#13;
Poor creature she did little dream,						     I ow'd her any spite.&#13;
I told her, if shed walk with me,						     A side a little way,&#13;
We both together would agree,						     About our wedding day.&#13;
Thus I deluded her again,						     &#13;
Into a private place,&#13;
Then took a stick out of the hedge,					     And struck her in the face.&#13;
But she fell on her bended knee,						     And did for mercy cry,&#13;
For heaven sake dont murder me,						     I am not fit to die.&#13;
But I on her no pity took,	&#13;
But wounded her full sore,&#13;
Until her Life away I took,							     Which I can neer restore.&#13;
With many grievous shrieks and cries,					     She did resign her breath,&#13;
And in inhuman barbarous sort,						     I put my love to death.&#13;
And then I took her by the hair,						     To cover this foul sin,&#13;
And draggd her to the river side,						     And threw her Body in.&#13;
Thus in the blood of innocence,						     My hands were deeply dyd,&#13;
And shined in her purple gore,						     That should have been my bride.&#13;
Then home unto my mill I ran,						     But sorely was amazd,&#13;
My man he thought I had mischief done,				     And strangely on me gazd.&#13;
Oh! whats the matter then said he,					     You look as pale as death,&#13;
What makes you shake and tremble so,			     &#13;
As though you had lost your breath.&#13;
How came you by that blood upon,				     Your trembling hands and cloaths?&#13;
I presently to him replyd,							     By bleeding at the nose.&#13;
I wishfully upon him lookd,							     But little to him said,&#13;
But snatchd the candle from his hand,				     And went unto my bed.&#13;
Where I lay trembling all the night,					     For I could take no rest,&#13;
And perfect flames of hell did flash,					     Within my guilty face.&#13;
Next day the damsel being missd,					     And no where to be found;&#13;
Then I was apprehended soon,						     And to the Assizes bound.&#13;
Her sister did against me swear,						     She reason had no doubt,&#13;
That I had made away with her,						     Because I calld her out.&#13;
But Satan did me still perswade,						     I stiffly should deny,&#13;
Quoth he, there is no witness can,						     Against thee testif[y].&#13;
Now when her mother she did cry,					     I scoffingly did say,&#13;
On purpose then to frighten me,						     She sent her child away.&#13;
I publishd in the post boy then,						     My wickedness to blind,&#13;
Five Guineas any one should have,					     That could her body find.&#13;
But Heaven had a watchful eye,						     And brought it so about,&#13;
That though I stiffly did deny,						     This murder would come out.&#13;
The very day before the assize,						     Her body it was found,&#13;
Floating before her Fathers door,					     At Henly Ferry Town.&#13;
So I the second time was seizd,						     To Oxford brought with speed,&#13;
And there examined again,						     About the bloody deed.&#13;
Now the coroner and jury both,						     Together did agree,&#13;
That this damsel was made away,						     And murdered by me.&#13;
The justice he perceivd the guilt,						     No longer would take bail:&#13;
But the next morning I was sent,						     Away to Reading Goal.&#13;
When I was brought before the judge,				     My man did testify,&#13;
That blood upon my hands and cloaths,				     That night he did espy.&#13;
The judge he told the jury then,					     The circumstance is plain,&#13;
Look on the prisoner at the bar,					     &#13;
He hath this creature slain.&#13;
About the murder at the first,						     The jury did divide,&#13;
But when they brought their verdict,					     All of them guilty cryd.&#13;
The jailor took and bound me strait,					     As soon as I was cast;&#13;
And then within the prison strong,					     He there did lay me fast.&#13;
With fetters strong then I was bound,					     And shin bolted was I,&#13;
Yet I the murder would not own,						     But still did it deny.&#13;
My father did on me prevail,						     My kindred all likewise,&#13;
To own the murder which I did,						     To them with watery eyes.&#13;
My father he then did me blame,					     Saying, my son, oh ! why,&#13;
Have you thus brought yourself to shame,			     And all your family;&#13;
Father, I own the crime I did,				    &#13;
 I guilty am indeed,&#13;
Which cruel fact I now confess,					     Doth make my heart to bleed.&#13;
The worst of deaths I do deserve,					     My crime it is so base,&#13;
For I, no mercy shewd to her,						     Most wretched is my case.&#13;
Lord grant me grace while I do stay,					     That I may now repent,&#13;
Before I from this wicked world,					     Most shamefully am sent.&#13;
Young men take warning by my fall,				     &#13;
All filthy lust defy;&#13;
By giving way to wickedness,						     Alas! this day I die.&#13;
Lord wash my hateful Sins away,					     Which have been manifold,&#13;
Have mercy on me I thee pray,						     And Christ receive my soul.</text>
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        <name>Language</name>
        <description>Language ballad is printed in</description>
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            <text>English</text>
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      <element elementId="55">
        <name>Date</name>
        <description>Date of ballad</description>
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            <text>1756-1790 ?</text>
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      <element elementId="59">
        <name>Printing Location</name>
        <description>Location the ballad pamphlet was printed.</description>
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          <elementText elementTextId="4401">
            <text>London: Printed and Sold at Sympsons Printing Office, in Stonecutter-street, Fleet Market.</text>
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        <name>Method of Punishment</name>
        <description>Method of punishment described in the ballad.</description>
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            <text>hanging</text>
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        <name>Crime(s)</name>
        <description>Crime or crimes for which the person in the ballad is convicted.</description>
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            <text>murder</text>
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        <name>Gender</name>
        <description>Gender of the person being executed.</description>
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            <text>Male</text>
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        <name>Execution Location</name>
        <description>Location the condemned was executed.</description>
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            <text>Reading</text>
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        <name>Image / Audio Credit</name>
        <description/>
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          <elementText elementTextId="7414">
            <text>British Library - Roxburghe, C.20.f.9.802-803, 3.802-803; &lt;a href="https://ebba.english.ucsb.edu/ballad/31475/image" target="_blank"&gt;EBBA 31475&lt;/a&gt;</text>
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      <element elementId="93">
        <name>Subtitle</name>
        <description/>
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          <elementText elementTextId="7880">
            <text> OR THE WITTAM MILLER, With an Account of his Murdering his Sweetheart.</text>
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        <element elementId="50">
          <name>Title</name>
          <description>A name given to the resource</description>
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              <text>The BERKSHIRE Tragedy,</text>
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    <tag tagId="46">
      <name>hanging</name>
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    <tag tagId="42">
      <name>Male</name>
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      <name>murder</name>
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