The York-shire Tragedy:
GIVING
An Account of a Barbarous Murther Committed on the Bodies of a young Man and
Maid, by Thieves, who made their escape, and was not found in two Years after; and then being ap-
prehended, they were Arraigned, and their Ring-leader found Guilty; for which he received the due
Sentence of Death, and was accordingly Executed at York late Sizes.
Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order. To the Tune of, Fond Boy .
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N Ow, now loving People be pleas'd to draw near,
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For a dismal Relation at large you shall hear,
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How the innocent Blood of a Damsel was shed,
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A Youth mortally wounded, the Murtherers fled;
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Yet at length being seiz'd, they to Justice was brought,
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At a time when all danger was past, as they thought.
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The manner how they did this Murther commit,
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And the time they escap'd, to the World I have writ,
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That it may be a warning to others this day,
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Therefore listen a while to this Ditty I pray,
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In the Town of fair Slatburn a Widow did dwell,
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Who had an [?] only Daughter she loved right well.
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She had but that Daughter, not any Child more;
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Now for her she had gather'd up Riches great store,
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In broad pieces of Gold, nay, and Silver likewise;
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Now the Thieves being told of this wonderful Prize,
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They were never at rest, but did constantly wait
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For a fit oppertunity, early and late.
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While these cruel Ruffins in close ambush lay,
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Like the Fox, or fierce Lyon that wait for their Prey;
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The good Woman went forth, leaving no one within
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But a Youth and her Daughter; the Thieves did begin
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For to enter the House, and was desperate too,
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And a sad bloody Slaughter did straightways ensue.
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The poor frighted Damsel did trembling stand,
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One of them did come to her with Pistol in hand,
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And discharged the same through the midst of her head,
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Blood and brains both did follow, she fell down for dead;
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Yet they pinn'd he likewise with a Sword to the ground,
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And the Youth that was with her receiv'd his death's wound.
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Now while the young Damsel lay bath'd in her blood,
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Which did flow from her Veins like a deluge or flood;
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Oh! these murderous Thieves they were pleas'd to make bold
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With the best of Apparel, nay, Silver and Gold,
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For they rifl'd the House to replenish their store,
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And was never discover'd for two Years and more.
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This was to the Mother a dreadful surprize,
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For to see the young Youth and her Daughter likewise,
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In that bloody condition, both wreaking in gore,
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Then she bitterly screak'd when she enter'd the door,
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For her Daughter she found with the Sword in her side,
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I am ruin'd, I'm ruin'd, her Mother she cry'd.
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A young Man that had been in league with his Maid,
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For the space of two Years he did lay by his Trade,
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Ever searching for them, and by Fortune at last
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They were taken and try'd, their head Ring-leader cast,
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A ruff Villain, bold Henry Grigson by name,
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He confessed the Murther, and dy'd for the same.
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At length being brought to the place of his Death,
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Where he was to surrender and yield up his breath,
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He besought all the People that stood round him there,
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For to joyn with him then in the Duty of Prayer,
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That the Lord would be pleased his Sins to forgive,
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So his Soul may in Heaven eternally live.
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Then mounting the Ladder he bitterly wept,
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Fare you well the bad Company which I have kept,
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You have ruined me, for my Life's at an end;
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Loving Father of Heaven on thee I depend,
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For thy Mercies are many I needs must confess;
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Let my Sins be forgiven tho' I did transgress.
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