Murther Unparalel'd:
- Ballad Title
- Murther Unparalel'd:
- Indicated Tune
- Troy Town
- Ballad Location
- Huntington, Library - Bindley (formerly Luttrell), HEH 135832; EBBA 32291
- Event Date
- 1682
- Printing Location
- LONDON, Printed for the Author, J.M. 1682.
- Ballad Author
- J. M.
- Crime
- murder
- Gender of Accused
- Male
- Method of Punishment
- hanging
- Category
- Crime and Punishment Ballads
- Sub-Category
-
Execution Ballads
- Notes
- Wikipedia: Thomas Thynne (1647/8-12 February 1682) was an English landowner of the family that is now headed by the Marquess of Bath and politician who sat in the House of Commons from 1670 to 1682. He went by the nickname "Tom of Ten Thousand" due to his great wealth. He was a friend of the Duke of Monmouth, a relationship referred to in John Dryden's satirical work Absalom and Achitophel where Thynne is described as "Issachar, his wealthy western friend". Thynne was the son of Sir Thomas Thynne, and his wife Stuarta Balquanquill, daughter of Dr. Walter Balquanquill. His father was a younger son of Sir Thomas Thynne of Longleat, Wiltshire. In 1670 Thynne succeeded to the family estates at Longleat on the death of his uncle Sir James Thynne without issue. He also succeeded his uncle as Member of Parliament for Wiltshire, and sat until his death in 1682. On 15 November 1681 Thynne married the wealthy Lady Elizabeth Percy, only child of Joceline Percy, 11th Earl of Northumberland. Thynne was murdered on 12 February 1682 after the Swedish Count Karl Johann von Konigsmark began to pursue his wife. He was shot while riding in his coach in Pall Mall, London, by Konigsmark and his three accomplices Christopher Vratz, John Stern and Charles George Borosky. The four were soon arrested; however Konigsmark was acquitted of the murder (due to the corruption of the jury according to diarist John Evelyn) but Vratz, Stern and Borosky were hanged on 10 March 1682. Thynne's remains were interred in a marble tomb in Westminster Abbey. The tomb is decorated in part with a representation of the murder of Thynne in 1682. A popular ballad summed up the episode in form of a mock epitaph: "Here lies Tom Thynne of Longleat Hall Who ne'er would have miscarried; Had he married the woman he slept withal Or slept with the woman he married."
- Transcription
-
Come and assist my trembling Pen,
while I endeavour to explain
The bloody minds of cruel men,
That will no wickedness refrain,
But bloody Humors to fulfill
Innocent blood they daily spill.
Now my sad story I'le begin,
The like I think you ne'r did hear,
How that the great Esquire Thin,
Was murther'd it doth plain appear; Their bloudy minds for to fulfill, This squire most horridly they kill.
On Sunday last this Gentleman
Clear of all Scandals and Reproach,
At severall places he had been
Accompany'd with his Grace inCoach, This worthy person thought no ill, Whilst Villians sought his bloud to spill
And thus they pass'd the Streets along
Till seven or eight a Clock at night,
& then his Grace he would be gone
In whom so much he did delight, Poor soul he little thought of ill, while villains sought his blood to spill.
His Grace he was no sooner gone,
But this sad accident befell,
By Villains he was set upon
Neer to a place thats called Pell-mell, Their Hellish minds they did fulfill and there his precious bloud did spill.
Up to his Coach these Villains ride,
As by his Servants it is said,
With Weapons which they did provide
Whilst he poor soul was not afraid, For harmless souls ner fear no ill. while villains seek their blood to spill
Meeting with him as they desir'd,
Their Hellish courage then grew hot,
Into his Coach at him they fir'd,
And into his belly him they shot, And so like Villains him they kill'd, & his most precious bloud they spill'd.
Away like Villains then they fled;
With horror doubtless in their mind,
This worthy soul three quarters dead,
Bleeding i'th Coach they left behind: Now had the Villains got their will That sought his precious bloud to spill
When these unwelcome tydings came
Unto the Dukes astonish'd ear,
His wond'rous sorrow for the same
Did on a suddain plain appear. He strait pursu'd those that did spill, His precious bloud that thought no ill
This Person then did all the night
Pursue these murtherers in vain,
Till Sol with his resplendent light
Did to our sight return again, But could not find those that did kill That harmless soul as thought no ill
But Heaven did presently find out
What lovely Monmouth could not do,
Twas well he was the Coach gone out,
Or he might have been murther'd too, For they who did this squire kill
Would fear the Bloud of none to spill.
These Villains they were seiz'd at last,
And brought before his Majesty,
This horrid thing they then confest
Now Prisoners they in Newgate lie, And be condemned no doubt they will, That squire Thyn's sweet blood did spill.
Part of Murther Unparalel'd: