The sorrowful complaint of Susan Higges, a lusty Countrey Wench, dwelling in Risborrow in Buc-
kinghamshire, who for twenty yeeres, most gallantly maintained her selfe by Robberies on the
high-way side, and such like practises. And lastly, how she was executed at Brickhill, at the Assises,
for a murther by her committed upon Messeldon Heath.
To the tune of Lusty Gallant.
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TO mourne for my offences,
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and former passed sinnes,
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This sad and dolefull story,
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my heavy heart begins:
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Most wickedly I spent my time.
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devoide of godly grace:
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A lewder Woman never liv'd,
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I thinke in any place.
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Nare Buckingham I dwelled,
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and Susan Higges by name,
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Well thought of by good Gentlemen
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and Farmers of good fame:
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Where thus.for xx. yeares at least,
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I liv'd in gallant sort:
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Which made the Country marvell much,
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to here of my report.
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My state was not maintained,
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(as you shall understand)
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By good and honest dealings,
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nor labour of my hand:
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But by deceipt and couzening shifts
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the end whereof, we see
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Hath ever beene repaide with shame
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and ever like to be.
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My servants were young Countrey girles
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brought up unto my mind,
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By nature faire and beautifull,
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and of a gentle kinde:
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Who with their sweet intising eyes,
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did many Youngsters move
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To come by night unto my house
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in hope of further love.
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But still at their close meetings,
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(as I the plot had late)
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I slept in still at unawares,
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while they the wantons plaid.
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And would in question bring their names,
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except they did agree
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To give me money for this wrong,
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done to my house and me.
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This was but petty couzenage,
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to things that I have done:
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My weapon by the high-way side,
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hath me much money wonne:
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In mens attyre I oft have rode,
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upon a Gelding stout,
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And done great robberies valiantly,
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the Countries round about.
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I had my Scarfes and Vizards,
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my face for to disguise:
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Sometime a beard upon my chin,
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to blinde the peoples eyes.
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My Turkie blade, and Pistols good,
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my courage to maintaine:
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Thus took I many a Farmers purse
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well cram'd with golden gaine.
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Great store of London Marchants
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I boldly have bid Stand,
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And showed my selfe most bravely,
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a Woman of my hand,
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You rulsling Roysters, every one
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in my defence say then,
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Wee women still for gallant minds,
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may well compare with men.
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But if so bee it chanced,
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the Countries were beset,
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With hue and cryes and warrants
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into my house I get:
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And I so being with my Maides,
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would cloake the matter so,
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That no man could by any meanes,
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the right offender know.
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Yet God that still most justly,
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doth punish every vice,
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Did bring unto confusion
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my fortunes in a trice:
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For by a murther all my sinnes
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were strangly brought to light:
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And such desert I had by law,
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as justice claim'd by right.
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Upon the Heath of Misseldon,
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I met a woman there,
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And robd her, as from market,
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home-wards she did repaire:
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Which woman cald me by my name
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and said, that she me knew:
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For which, even with her lifes deare bloud,
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my hands I did imbrew.
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But after I had wounded,
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this women unto death,
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And that her bleeding body,
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was almost reft of breath:
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She gave a grone: and therewithall
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did spit upon my face,
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Three drops of blood, that never could
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be wiped from that place:
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For after I returned
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unto my house againe,
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The more that I it washde,
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it more appeared plaine:
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Each houre I thought that beasts, [&] birds
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this murther would reveale,
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Or that the ayre, so vile a deede,
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no longer would conceale.
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So heavy at my conscience,
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this wofull murther lay,
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That I was soone inforced,
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the same for to beware,
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And to my servants made it known,
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as God appointed me:
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For blood can never secret rest,
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nor long unpunisht be.
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My servants to the Justices,
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declar'd what I had said:
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For which I was attached,
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and to the Jayle convaied,
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And at the Sises was condemnd,
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and had my just desert:
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Even such a death let all them have,
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that beare so false a heart.
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Be warned by this story,
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you ru[s]sling Rosters all:
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The higher that you climbe in sinne
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the greater is your fall:
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For now the world so wicked is,
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in Maiden and in Wife
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That few, or none, can finde the way
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to lead an honest life.
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FINIS.
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