The Whipster of Woodstreet, or, A true account of the barbarous and horrid murther commited on the body of Mary Cox, late servant in Woodstreet, London

About this Item

Title
The Whipster of Woodstreet, or, A true account of the barbarous and horrid murther commited on the body of Mary Cox, late servant in Woodstreet, London
Publication
[London] :: Printed for W. Thackeray ... J. Millet ... and Alex. Milbourn ...,
[168-?]
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.

Subject terms
Cox, Mary, d. ca. 1680.
Broadsides
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A65653.0001.001
Cite this Item
"The Whipster of Woodstreet, or, A true account of the barbarous and horrid murther commited on the body of Mary Cox, late servant in Woodstreet, London." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A65653.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 18, 2024.

Pages

Page [unnumbered]

THE VVhipster of VVoodstreet,

OR, A True Account of the Barbarous and Horrid Murther committed on the Body of Mary Cox, late Servant in Woodstreet LONDON.

Tune of, Grim King of the Ghosts.

Licensed according to Order.

[illustration]

ASsist me some mournful Muse, while I a sad Story relate; Let all that these Lines peruse, lament a poor maids hard fate; Who Guiltless and Innocent fell, by the hands of a barbarous Dame: As fierce as a fury of Hell, her sexes eternal shame.
Her husband to Bristol went, his Trade to advance at the fair: Whilst she was on mischief bent, such mischief she can't repair: for suspition o're clouding her mind, bred a tempest within her breast: her soul like a sea with rough wind, was ruffled and rob'd of rest.

[illustration]

MEMENTO MORI

ALl jealous she taxed her maid, and falsly did her accuse, With theft she did her upbraid, and shamefully did abuse: While the maid in her own defence, undaunted and boldly stood, Which made the fierce Dame commence, a Tragedy full of Blood.
she caus'd her to be fast bound to the post of her husbands bed, where she did her body wound, and whipped her almost dead: thus did she a Confession extort, of Crimes which the Maid never knew, tormenting her in such a sort, as wou'd make ones heart for to rue.
This monster not satisfied yet, tho' the blood run from every part, Made an Iron red hot in a pet, resolving to give her more smart, she burnt her in shoulders and thighs, and sev'ral times under her ears, she wou'd not come near her Eyes, lest th' iron shou'd be quench'd with her tears
Her body was blister'd and whail'd, she was burnt from the head to the heel, her skin was so parch'd that it scal'd, no pain like to what she did feel: she kept in her Chamber three days, unwilling the fact shou'd be known, And turn to her Masters dispraise, if her cruel stripes shou'd be shown.
As soon as down stairs she came, her Mistress was in the old mood, The merciless savage Dame, did thirst for her very heart's blood: she caus'd her two Prentices then, neck and heels the poor Creature to bind, No Tygress within her Den, e're shew'd a more savage mind.
She kick'd her and spurn'd her about, and bid the young Ladd the same: Resolving to act her part out, thus ended the tragical game, she catch'd up a hammer in haste, and pierc'd the maids brains at a blow, for which, of the hemp she must taste, old Tyburn must have her I trow.
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.