¶ A BRIEF DISCOURSE OF TWO most cruel and bloody murders, committed both in Worcestershire, and both happening unhappily in the year. 1583.  
The first declaring, how one unnaturally murdered his neighbour, and afterward buried him in his Seller.  
The other showeth, how a woman unlawfully following the devilish lusts of the flesh with her servant, caused him very cruelly to kill her own Husband.  
¶ Imprinted at London. by Roger Warde, dwelling near Holborn Conduit at the sign of the Talbot. 1583.   

To the reader.  
THat the days of danger and iniquity are as now, not only our own frail nature may sufficiently certify us: but also the irksome examples, and unwonted prodigious spectacles, every day and hour (almost) apparent in our eyes, may drive from us any doubt to the contrary. For if we enter into examination with ourselves, aswell of our negligence of duty to our God, as also our lack of love to our neighbour: we shall find that we are not, neither do as the holy Evangelist wisheth us, when he saith: 
1. john. 4.7.  Beloved, let us love one an other, for love cometh of God, and every one that loveth, is borne of God, and knoweth God: But he that loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is love. And I find in Ecclesiasticus these words. Three things rejoice me, and by them am I beautified before God and men: 
Eccle. 25.1.  the unity of Brethren, the love of neighbours, & a man and wife that agree together. How then can we otherwise judge, but that we are in that iron and crooked age, wherein iniquity should vaunt & show herself: being made acquainted every day with the lack of that heavenly ornament, Love, the memory thereof almost defaced and pulled up by the root, in so grievous and vehement manner, that it may be hardly said to have any abiding among us at all. And that I may not wade into abundance of matter, without due proof to affirm any thing alleged: I pray you look into these Tragical accidents following, which, albeit they carry terror sufficient, to forewarn the unnatural children of this world: yet daily do fresh enormities spring up, able (had nature so agreed) to urge the very bowels of the earth, to yield forth fearful acclamations against us. Shall I withhold to say, that the father hath not procured the death of his own natural child: and the child risen in like occasion against his Father? Shall I not say, the Husband hath abrydged the life of his espoused Wife and mate, & she likewise committed the like unnatural act on her Husband? Hath not one Brother murdered the other, one neighbour killed the other, one friend been false to the other, yea, & very nature turned against itself? These unlooked for examples are daily before us, so that we cannot shun the sight & hearing of them, & yet shall we pass them over with a slender or light regard? Oh my friends, do we not see the heavens frown? And why? Because the sins of the earth hath fumed up into the nostrils of the Almighty, with a savour so irksome & unsufferable: that he cannot in justice, but strike stiffnecked Pharaoh, with the rod of his fury, yea, and bereave the earth of those benevolent blessings, which he hath suffered it so quietly to enjoy, and so great abuse rendered unto him for them. Can we reprove the Father for disinheriting his Son, when he seeth his dealings such as deserveth nothing? can we blame that master, who thrusteth his servant forth of his doors, when he beholdeth his behaviour unworthy of houseroom? Even so, can we otherwise say, that our heavenly father doth unworthily cast us out of his favour, when in stead of love, we render him hatred, for duty, negligence, and for all his good gifts, ungracious thanks? Oh no, let us not enter into such questioning with ourselves, for if we look into our iniquity, & then into his mercy, our daily falling from one sin into an other, and his so long fatherly forbearance: we will then quickly return from the flesh pots of Egypt, and from our own filthy and odious vomit, and every one of us say heartily with the Psalmist: 
Psal. 51.3.  I do know mine own wickedness, and my sin is ever against me. And likewise confess with Danyel the Prophet: 
Daniel 9.9.10.  To thee (O Lord God) belongeth mercy and forgiveness, for we have gone away from thee, and have not hearkened to thy voice, whereby we might walk in thy laws which thou hast appointed for us. It is high time that we should thus consider with ourselves, if we but look into the present occasions offered unto us, and mark how busy the devil is to work man's utter overthrow: the rather by 2. grievous & horrible mischances which hath lately happened, wherein may be seen, how needful it is for us to call for the grace of our heavenly father, to strengthen us with such assured confidence, that we fall not likewise into such evil, but may show such hearty repentance of our former offences, as the very wicked by our good example, may be drawn to glorify the eternal GOD.   

❧ A most cruel and bloody Murder, committed on newyears even last passed, being the last day of December, 1582. in the town of Esam in Worcester shire, by one Thomas Smith a town dweller, upon his neighbour Robert Greenoll, who when he had cruelly murdered him, made a grave in his Seller, & there buried him.  
IN Esam, a handsome market Town in Worcester shire well known, dwelled two young men, who by their usual trade were Mercers, as in that country they call them so that sell all kind of wares: the one of them they called Robert Grenoll, a bachelor, & of such an honest conversation, as he was not only well beloved in the Town where he dwelled, but also of those who had every market day access thither, for their needful necessaries, so that he was as well customed as any occupier in the town. The other was called Thomas Smith, of indifferent wealth likewise, & son to one of the most substantial men in the town, & joined in marriage with a gentlewoman of very good parentage: so that he likewise was well thought on of most & least. This Thomas Smith, seeing Greenoll have so good utterance for his wares, and so well esteemed in each companierif not upon this cause alone, though chief it be accounted so, he began to envy the prosperous estate of him being his neighbour and friend, and the Devil so far ruled the course of his envious intent, as nothing would suffice the desire thereof, but only making away of Greenoll by death, which though he had no reason for, yet such was the persuasion of the evil spirit with him. Many platforms were laid, a thousand devices canuazed over by this lewd man, which way he might work the death of his friendly neighbour: at last as the Devil wanteth no occasions to help man forward to his own destruction, so he presented Smith with a fit opportunity, whereby he might execute the sum of his bloody will. And as the repining at our neighbours prosperity, is not only monstrous, but a denilish nature. So had this man compassed a monstruous and most devilish devise, the very conceit whereof is able to astonish the heart of a jew, or Mahomitans recreant, and thus it was as followeth.  
On newyears even last passed, this Thomas Smith longing and desiring the end of his unnatural will, bearing the image of a friendly countenance in the face, but the very perfect shape of judas treachery in his heart, invited his neighbour Greenoll to his house, where he promised to bestow a quart of wine and an apple upon him: saying further, they would pass away the Evening pleasantly in friendly talk and drinking together. Greenoll being one desirous of each man's friendship, and much the rather of his being his neighbour, and one of the same trade himself was: nothing mistrusting the villainous treason, hid under so smooth a show of neighberhood, gave him thanks, promising to come to him at night, & not to fail him. This pleased well the bloud-thirsting man, so that home he went to determine the Instrument to do the deed withal, & then down into his Seller he goes, to dispose a place wherein he might convey the body when he had slain him: there he digged a grave about six or seven inches deep, thinking there to bury him that he should never be found. It drew toward night, when as a play was cried about the Town, whereto both old and young did hastily repair: & this Smith having a boy that served him in his Shop, fearing least the boy should perceive any thing, gave him money, and bade him go fee the Play: & bring him the whole report of the matter. This he did in the presence of Greenol, who was come according to his promiss to keep him company: & the boy having fetched a quart of wine and Apples as his master willed him, ran merrily to see the Play, leaving Greenoll & his master by the fire pleasantly talking. They two thus sitting alone, did drink to each other very familiarly, till at last, Greenol stooping to turn an apple in the fire, a fit time that Smith espied to accomplish his will: who taking an iron pestle, wherewith he used to beat his spice in the mortar, and which he had laid by him ready for the nonce, with this  (as Greenoll stooped to turn the Apple) he gave him two such mighty blows on the head, as he fell down backward to the ground, yielding forth a very pitiful and lamentable groan. Smith hearing him to give such a woeful groan (as himself said to me, when I came to him into the prison) began to enter into some sorrowfulness for the deed, wishing that he might recover again: but when he perceived he had smote him so sore, that there was no hope of his recovery, he took the  again, and gave him three or four more cruel strokes about the head, which made him to lie trembling and shaking in such pitiful manner, as would have made a heart of Adamant to melt in grief: for to behold how life and death made strife together, life for the sweetness, to resist death his bitterness, with many a gasp for breath, with struggling and often folding his arms together: thus lay this Innocent and martyred coarse. Not sufficed with this, the bloody murderer taketh a knife, and therewith cut the throat of Greenol, but as Smith himself saith, he did not cut the weazand, but pierced the skin somewhat: and then would have stabbed him to the heart with the knife, but miss and smote him on the shoulder blade, whereupon he struck again, and then indeed pierced him to the heart: what a cruel and monstrous hard heart had he, that could endure this rueful Stratagem? When he had sufficed his bloody mind, upon his friend and loving neighbour, he drew him down into his Seller, where his grave was ready prepared for him, and there buried him: which being done, he smoothed it over so finely with a Trowel that Plasterers use, so that it could be hardly discerned, and because he would work the surer, he took bail of Flax which lay in his Seller, and so shaked the shellinges thereof on the floor in all places, as no one could say, (but he that knew it) where the grave was, setting likewise Dryfats & Chests over it, so that he judged it should never be found. Afterward he went and took water, wherewith he washed and dried his house so clean in every place, that one drop of blood could not be espied: behold how subtly he went to work, but God, who in no case will have bloody murder hid, prevented all his craitie policies.  
Smith having thus played his tyrannous pageant, & having taken greenol's keys of his shop from him, went thither and likewise rob it, bringing a great deal of the goods from thenre into his own house. But this by the way is to be considered, that in the Town of Euesam, all the time of Christmas, and at no other time, there is watch & ward kept, that no misorder or ill rule be committed in the Town, which doubtless is a very good and commendable order. To one of the watchmen had Smith given this watchwoord, See and see not: which was only to this end, that he might go by them unseen, when he carried the goods out of greenol's shop to his own house. On the morrow when it was known that greenol's shop was robbed, question was made thorough the Town, who was abroad that night that might be suspected, because of the Play that was in the Town: upon which demand, the watchman to whom this message was sent, declared how Thomas Smith was abroad somewhat late, and sent him this watchword, See and see not, but was meant thereby he could not gather. Upon this, Smith was sent for before the chief of the Town, and demanded if he knew where Grenol was, for that it was reported he had been in his house overnight, and since that time no man could tell any tidings of him: moreover his shop was rob as that night, and that Smith being abroad, and sending such a by-woord See and see not, to one of the watchmen, it was a shrewd presumption against him to be somewhat faulty in the matter. So after his answer, that he knew not where Greenol was become, and by his late walking and words sent to the watchman, no harm was meant: they said that they would go to search his house, whereupon Smith answered, that his house they could not as then see. because his wife was at Kings Norton, a Town not far thence, and she had the keys of his house: but (quoth he) if you will search my Seller you may, and so took the keys from his girdle and threw them unto them. Then went certain that were appointed, to search Smith's Seller, whence they were coming again without finding such matter as they looked for: till by chance one of them happened to espy a little piece of earth, as it were new broken out of the ground, lying under the nethermost stair, which he taking up, said it were good to see where any earth was lately broken there about, for if they chanced to find the place, some thing might come to light worth the beholding. Upon this council they began all to look earnestly about the Seller, if they could find the place where that Earth had been broken up. At last they removed the Chests & Dryfats, where they felt the ground more soft than all the rest: which caused them (suspecting somewhat) to fall to digging, where presently they found Greenoll buried, not past six or seven inches deep, and looking upon him, beheld how cruelly and unnaturally he had been murdered. These news brought to the Bailiffs of the town, where Smith was kept till they returned: not without great lamentation for this bloody deed, of all that knew or heard thereof, he was sent to Worcester jail, where he remained till such time as the cruelty of his unneighbour like deed might be determined by justice. When the Assizes came, the apparent truth of his offence laid before the judges, he was condemned to the death, which he suffered very lately since: but yet by the earnest entreaty of his Friends, who were of great wealth and credit, the severity of the law was not altogether ministered, for whereas he should have been hanged in chains, he had more favour showed him, he was hanged to death, and after ward buried.  
Thus my Friends, have you heard the true discourse of this most bloody & monstrous act, according as in great grief, with like sorrow for the deed, himself did utter it, both unto me, and divers other being present, Preachers, and Gentlemen. And truly thus much I must say, for the man truly he was both a handsome and well featured a Youngman, as one shall lightly so, his Father as good wealth, and one of the chiefs in the Town of Esam, and he had been married not passed eight weeks by crrbible report, before he did the deed, to a Gentls woman of very good Parentage, who no donbt remaineth in great grief for this unlooked for mischance, she being merty abroad with her: Friends, when her Hasoand at home conunitted this cruel deed: I commit it to the judgement of all verfuous Women, what a groefe it was to her, when first she heard of these unhappy news: But here I may not make a final pause, for that an other horrible and wicked deed, committed in june last 1582. in the same Shire, constraineth me to speak somewhat thereof: and for that I beheld the death of one of the parties, I am the more willing to pass it over in a brief discourse.   

another most cruel and bloody Murder, committed in the same shire the same year as the aforesaid.  
AT a place called Cothridge, about four miles distant from Worcester, dwelled an honest Hubsband-man, named Thomas Beast, one very well reputed among his Neighbours, aswell for his house keeping, as also for his Godly and honest behaviour. This afore named Thomas Beast, kept a handsome Youngman to his servant, called Christopher Tomson, to whom (by the wicked instigation and provocation of the Devil) the good Wife of the house used far better affection, then to her own Husband.  
Often times they would carnally acquaint themselves together, till lust had gotten so much power of the Woman: as she began altogether to loath and dislike her Husband, and prefer the fleshly dealings of her new companion so much, as she must needs seek & practise the death of her Husband.  
The Neighbours not suspecting, but credibly perceiving, the common and unhonest behaviour of this wicked woman & her lusty Younker: began so much to dislike thereof, as if came at last to her Husband's ears, who as well to slake the rumour of the Prople, as also the pleasure these two unhonestly enjoyed: gave his Servant warning to annoyed his house, who packed up his clothes, and was departing: But that this filthy desirous Woman, so much prevailed in the matter with her Husband. that her Companion departed not, but tarried still. At length, so great grew the hatréd of this harlot against her Husband, as she must needs have Christopher her sweet dallying Friend, to dispatch the life of him, whereto a great while he would not consent, persuading her still from it; so much as in him lay. But it grew to such an issue at the last, as she must needs have her will, and Christopher must not deny her thereof, for she conjured him by the love that he bore her, and if any way he would witness his affection unto her, to manifest it in the killing her Husband, for (quoth she) with money and friends I will warrant thee to save thy life, and then thou and I will live merrily together. Oh most horrible and wicked woman, a woman, nay a devil: stop your ears you chaste & grave matrons, whom Gods fear, duty, true love to your Husbands, and virtue of yourselves hath so beautified as nothing tam be more odious unto you, then that such a graceless strumpet should be found, so much to dishonour your noble sex. Well, when neither entreaty, nor all the fair means Christopher could use, to subvert this devilish desire: solemnly at the eating of a Posset, the night before he did the deed, he promised her faithfully, to accomplish her will. On the morrow when his Master was in his field at the plough, he takes a long pike staff on his neck, wherewith he would go do the deed: but his wicked Mistress missiking the weapon, saying that it was nothing fit for the purpose, delivered him a Forest Bill, which she herself had made very sharp for the same infent, and said: Be sure to hit him right, and thou shalt speed him I warrant thee, so that he shall never tell who did hurt him. Christopher taketh this Bill on his back, & comes into the field to his Master, where he began quarrelingly to say unto him after this manner. Seeing you are willing I shall serve you no longer, give me that which is my duty & so far ye well, with other words of quarrel that he used about the sum of the money, but his Master granted him so much as he demanded, and turning from him, to open his purse to give him the money, Christopher struck at him with the Bill in such cruel manner, that there he killed him. After the deed was done, he fled, but not far before he was taken, when presently he exclaimed on his Mistress, how she was cause that he committed the deed: whereupon they were both sent to Worcester jail, where very often she would solicit her sweet Christopher, with money, hand kerchers, nosegays, and such like amorous and loving tokens, and he besotted in his naughty affection, would shape all his conditions to please her, the more to witness his dissolute folly, he made a triumph (as it were) in carrying a lock of her hair about him, & would sit kissing and delighting in any token she sent him: beside, one day he desired the jailor, that if he were a Man, or one that regarded the extreme afflictions of those, whom the tyranny of love possessed, that he would do so much for him, to rip forth the heart of him, & cleaving the same in sunder, he should there behold the lively Image of his sweet mistress, to whom (as the théefest jewel he had) he desired him to make a present of that pretions' token.  
When time came, that justice should determine of these twain, being worthily found guilty and condemned: she was adjudged (for an example to all light and lascivious women) that she should be burned, & Christopher, to be carried to the place where he did the deed: there to be first hangrd dead, & afterward to be hanged up again in chains. The Assizes being holden at Esam, she was laid upon an hurdle, & so drawn to the place of Execution, which was without the lown: & there being bound to the stake, & the fire made to burn about her, her wertched carcase was soon dissolved into athes. Christopher Tomson, he was carried back again to Worcester, where he likewise (for an example to all lewd livers) was drawn on an hurdle about the Eittie, & so conveyed to Cothridge, where according to his judgement he hangeth in chains.  
FINIS.