A true report or description of an horrible, woeful, and most lamentable murder, done in the city of Bristol by one John Kynnestar, a Sherman by his occupation, declaring how wickedly he murdered his own wife, in the month of August last paste, and being taken, was hanged the same month 1572 and now newly set forth in print the xxv day of the month of january. 1573.  
¶ At London By Henry Kirkham.   

¶ These be the witnesses that this is true.  

Thomas Pepper  
Davie Floyde,  
William welche.  
Richard Berwick vicar of the Temple in Bristol.    


AS I a sleep in bed did lie,  
In a stormy and windy night:  
I hard a voice full loud did cry,  
Behold a doleful sight.  
A woman here lieth dead on ground,  
God knoweth here I dead have her found,  
Draw near and see her deadly wound,  
Which grievous is to me:  
Behold he said, and cried fast,  
She is out of a window caste,  
The people then in all the haste,  
Drew near that fact to see.   

And I drew near among the rest,  
This ugly sight to view:  
Alas I saw it was no geste,  
His sayings was to true.  
For there the corpse of one lay dead,  
At night she merry went to bed,  
But now the people's eyes she fed,  
As she lay on the ground,  
I musing how this fact might be,  
One said, O man dost thou not see,  
It is her husbands work truly,  
That hath given her deaths wound.   

Then for her husband I did call,  
And asked where he might be:  
Not news of him there was at all,  
For no man did him see.  
Then to his door I did proceed,  
In all the haste I knocked with speed,  
Then came he forth that did the deed,  
He knew it was not well,  
And when he came he was aghast,  
Because he heard me knock so fast,  
Where is thy wife, I asked at last,  
Said he I can not tell.   

I took him then fast by the arm,  
His wife to him did show:  
I asked of him who was the same,  
Said he, I do not know,  
O man said I, were thou distract,  
When thou committest this wicked fact,  
If thou hadst told, what was thy lack,  
Or opened once thy mind,  
If thou to God hadst often prayed  
On thee had never come this day,  
Come man with me, thou must away,  
Leave house and goods behind.   

Then to the Sherief I him brought,  
Within a little space:  
And by the way I him besought,  
To call to God for grace.  
saying thou hast not long to leave,  
Wherefore the self to prayer give,  
From God see nothing thee remove,  
But in him put thy trust,  
The Sherief being scarcely rayed,  
To here this fact, was half dismayed,  
Game forth, and to this man he said,  
To prison now thou must.   

I took him then fast by the hand.  
Away with him I went:  
Thou kildest thy wife, I understand,  
Tell me for what intent.  
Was there between you such debate,  
That in thy heart sprung mortal hate,  
For to kill her that was thy mate,  
The devil was great in thee.  
His words they were to me again,  
This mind in me did long remain,  
She is now rewarded for her pain,  
That she hath done to me.   

But yet I asked him this before,  
saying, some doth bear in hand,  
Thou haste money, and that good store,  
Let me it understand.  
That part of it may now thee help,  
While thou art in this misery,  
Where it doth lie, therefore tell me,  
Give some before thou die,  
If I should never go here hence.  
I have no more but one five pence,  
That God doth know, who is my defence  
I speak unfeignedly.   

Unto the place I brought him then,  
Imprisoned for to be:  
And this I said to him again,  
Lo here now thou mayest see.  
In prison here thou shallbe cast,  
In iron cold thou shallbe fast,  
'Cause of the deed that done thou haste,  
Which grievous is to see.  
But how that thou didst kill thy wife,  
Was it with dagger or with knife,  
Or how thou tookest away her life,  
I pray thee tell it me.   

Seeing you request so earnestly,  
The truth of me to know,  
I will it tell you certainly,  
And all thing to you show.  
This night before we were merry,  
As any man and wife could be:  
And that the neighbours did us see,  
Between us was no strife,  
And after I had slept a while,  
I did not think her yet to spoil,  
Till in my head was put this style,  
A rise go kill thy wife.   

Then was I in a marvelous rage,  
I could not long lie still,  
There was nothing my wrath could suage  
But I must work my william.  
Then from my wife there did I go,  
Recounting her to be my foe,  
Wherefore I thought to work her woe,  
What mean you man she said,  
And if thou be a very man,  
Tell me whether thou dost go than,  
My answer was, I will come anon,  
It forceth not to thee.   

Then down I went immediately,  
To the haul I did proceed:  
I knowing where the knife did lie,  
The which should do the deed.  
When in my hand I had it take,  
I of her death account did make,  
Came up and suddenly her strake,  
In bed where she did lie.  
And when she felt her flesh so smart,  
Out of the bed anon she start.  
O man said she. you have pierced my heart,  
That I am like to die.   

Yet for all that I did not leave,  
But wounded her in deed,  
Her wounds I could not well perceive,  
But as I felt them bleed.  
Alas she said, no more, O man,  
For Christ's sake now hold thy hand,  
I am near death, I understand,  
Sweet man no more, she cried.  
But when she saw no remedy,  
O man she said, God forgive thee,  
And Christ take mercy upon me,  
And so fell down and died.   

A candle then in all the haste,  
I went to light with speed,  
For sorrows none my heart did taste,  
For all my wicked deed.  
If light I could have got at all,  
My neighbours in I would have call,  
To see what had between us fall,  
My wife there dead should see.  
But seeing that I no light could get,  
Into the bed again I leapt,  
Thinking a while for to to have slept,  
Alas it would not be.   

A thousand thoughts came in my mind  
My wits were not mine own,  
To see how blouddely I was fed,  
With seeds which the devil had sown,  
For then my wife on ground lay dead,  
Before a sleep she was on bed,  
And yet my mind was always led,  
Against her for to be.  
For I no sorrow yet did taste,  
Rose up again in all the haste,  
Out at a window I her cast,  
'Cause people should her see.   

O what a heart man hadst thou,  
To wound thy wife so sore,  
A wound or two had been enough,  
If it had been no more.  
But all the while she was alive,  
Thou never ceasest but still did strive,  
Till she had twenty wounds and five,  
Which one her all were told,  
After that I had once begun,  
Great hast I made till I had done,  
Thereby my death I have now won,  
That all men may behold.   

Then was he brought unto the hall,  
For to receive his meed,  
And there by name they did him call.  
Touching his wicked deed,  
One said to him hold up thy hand,  
Thou kildest thy wife I understand,  
How sayest, is it true, speak O man,  
Art thou guilty, yea or no.  
It was my deed I not deny,  
Wherefore good people pray for me,  
He to the judge again did say,  
Guilty the troth is so.   

The judge then judgement on him gave  
And said now thou must die:  
Worse death thou hast deserved to have,  
But take this patiently.  
From whence again thou shalt return,  
Unto the place from whence thou come,  
With these thy fellows all and some,  
That were so lewdly led,  
To Mighels hill, than thou shalt proceed,  
There for to receive thy meed,  
Because thou didst a wicked deed,  
Hung there till thou be dead.   

When to his death then that he went,  
The preacher went him by,  
Exhorting him, saying repent,  
Prepare thyself to die.  
This world now that thou must leave,  
And that thou seest and well perceive,  
God will thy soul no doubt receive,  
For all this wicked deed.  
Trust then in Christ saved to be,  
Believe I say, that only he,  
Thy wickedness hath forgive thee,  
He hath it so decreed.   

But when he came unto the place,  
In deed where he should die:  
One said, behold the end and race,  
Of all thy misery.  
Anon thy soul in heaven shallbe,  
Where thou shalt God behold and see,  
With great joy and felicity,  
Fear not to die therefore,  
There saints and angels doth still sing,  
We praise the lord our heavenly king,  
And then with them thou shalt begin,  
To praise him evermore.   
Finis.  
qd D. S.   

¶ An admonishment of the same.  
YOU that on earth with lively sense,  
are now adorned right:  
perpend and notify this fact,  
expressed here in sight.  
He bore the name of honesty,  
as by his outward show.  
Appeared no less, for but a few,  
the contrary did know:  
Yet in his heart such deadly sin,  
for want of serving God.  
There did remain that vainly he,  
did naught regard his Rod:  
And as a stock which outwardly,  
is trim bedecked with Gold.  
Beset with pearls and precious stones,  
yea more than twenty fold:  
But yet within is nothing else,  
but Timber rough and plain:  
Even so was he a person light,  
and of opinion vain.  
As by his deeds it doth appear,  
the greater is my care:  
That such as Christians have to name,  
should so with sin compare.  
Therefore let all men take good heed  
how they do lead their life:  
And how they do behave themselves,  
in living with their wife.  
If that thou canst not well agreed,  
with her and with her use:  
Or if thou dost perceive and see,  
herself she doth abuse.  
Admonish her the contrary,  
if that will not prevail:  
Do separate thyself from her,  
such grudgings for to quail.  
'tis better that thou live alone,  
in peace and so to rest:  
Then for to grieve thee with thy wife,  
or yet thyself molest.  
If this unrighteous person here,  
had followed this advise:  
To slay his wife from out his bed,  
he would not seem to rise.  
But Satan who had him subdued,  
did egg him to the same:  
That he oblivious of the Lord,  
did nothing weigh the shame.  
That would ensue, nor yet the woe,  
wherein he should remain:  
But rashly did put forth himself,  
with Satan for to rain.  
A lamentable case it is,  
for any christian heart:  
To think that he a Christian should,  
so rudely play his part.  
And yield himself as Satan's thrall,  
who aught in deed by right:  
To be his foe, and also under,  
Christ his Banour fight.  
For Satan roareth up and down  
as Lions for their pray:  
Seeking whom he may devour,  
and bring unto decay.  
If we did well remember this,  
or bear it in our brain:  
We would not seem to 'gree unto,  
such fancies fond and vain.  
But we are so be witched still,  
with devilish operation:  
That in the end it bringeth naught  
unto us but damnation.  
Example well yourselves with this  
same tyrants doing here:  
And judge if any fear of God,  
in him there did appear.  
●f none, why then shun you the same  
and learn to mend your miss,  
That after death you may remain,  
in comfortable bliss.  
And serve the Lord in holiness,  
and purity of life:  
That every man may 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
his family and wife.  
And that there may such unite;  
appear betwine the● swain:  
That God may still be glorified,  
where glorious he doth reign.  
God grant us all to follow this,  
and then we may be sure●  
With God the son and holy ghost,  
for ever to endure.  
Unto the which I say amen,  
and so let all the rest:  
That love the lord and fear his name,  
for so I think it best.  Psalm. xxv: All the ways of the Lord are very mercy, and faithfulness unto such as keep hi● Testament and covenant. Psalm. xxviij. Recompense them after the works of th●● hands, and pay them that they ha●● deserved. 
Finis  
qd Jude Smith.