%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Bloody Siege of / VIENNA: / A SONG. / Wherein the Turks have lost One Hundred and Sixty Thou- / sand Men; being the greatest Victory that ever was obtained over the Turks, / since the Foundation of the Ottoman Empire. Written by an English / Gentleman Volunteer, that was at the Garrison during the Siege. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 02/26/2016 34767

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R213066 1 NONE Devil Assist the Plotting Whigs, The THE Gods are now in Council sat, / For to survey the Worlds debate; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1 The Bloody Siege of / VIENNA: / A SONG. / Wherein the Turks have lost One Hundred and Sixty Thou- / sand Men; being the greatest Victory that ever was obtained over the Turks, / since the Foundation of the Ottoman Empire. Written by an English / Gentleman Volunteer, that was at the Garrison during the Siege. The Bloody Siege of VIENNA: A SONG. Wherein the Turks have lost One Hundred and Sixty Thou- sand Men; being the greatest Victory that ever was obtained over the Turks, since the Foundation of the Ottoman Empire. Written by an English Gentleman Volunteer, that was at the Garrison during the Seige. The Bloody Siege of VIENNA: A SONG. Wherein the Turks have lost One Hundred and Sixty Thousand Men; being the greatest Victory that ever was obtained over the Turks, since the Foundation of the Ottoman Empire. Written by an English Gentleman Volunteer, that was at the Garrison during the Siege. ?-? J. Dean

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 2/26/2016 5:19:42 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 2/26/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America military/ war mythology/ Classical religious groups violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 2/26/2016 5:19:42 PM XBallad Bell, Erik Created XML Version of Ballad 2/26/2016 5:19:42 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/26/2016 5:19:42 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/26/2016 5:19:42 PM Transcriptionist Two Adkison, Katie Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/26/2016 5:19:42 PM Transcriptionist One Saylor, Colton Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/8/2016 Checker Katie Adkison Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/26/2015 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/26/2014 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/24/2014 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 11/12/2015 Checker Alanna Bartolini Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Bloody Siege of</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">VIENNA:</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A SONG.</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Wherein the</hi> Turks <hi rend="bold">have lost One Hundred and Sixty Thou-</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">sand Men; being the greatest Victory that ever was obtained over the</hi> Turks,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">since the Foundation of the</hi> Ottoman <hi rend="bold">Empire. Written by an</hi> English</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Gentleman Volunteer, <hi rend="bold">that was at the Garrison during the Seige.</hi></hi></seg>
THE Gods are now in Council sat, For to survey the Worlds debate; Both Mars and Jove incensed are 'Gainst Treason and Rebellious War: This is the Fatal Year Design'd, To crush the Faction in all parts; The Algerines are all confin'd To pay for all their Thieving Arts. But HUNGARY, that Bloody Sceen, Of which the German Whiggs have been The provocation, and the Cause, 'Gainst God, the Emperour, and their Laws, Yet still pretend Religion; At the same time brought in the Turk, They all are turn'd Mahometan, Like ours, against the Duke of York. Their Soveraign Lord the Emperour, Ingag'd 'gainst the French in War: Then, then those Bloody Rebels rose, Surpriz'd his Friends with mortal blows; They Sacrific'd Peasant and Peer, With Fier and Sword, they laid all wast: No Quarter gave for Seven Year, Then brought the Turk to Burn the rest. Three Hundred Thousand Turks in Rage, Who never spared Sex nor Age; In Seven Hundred Leagues they Marcht, Till they VIENNA did Invest: They raised Batteries round the Town, Which did Command the highest Towers; Candy, nor Rhoads, nor Christian Crown, Was never assaulted by such Powers. Then all the Skies in Black did Mourn, As if the Town like TROY might Burn: Then just as JOVE doth shake the World, With Thunder-Claps their Balls were hurl'd Against our Walls, the Gates, and Forts, Each shot Two Hundred Pound in weight: Their Shouts and Yells, and Guns Reports, As if the Furies came to Fight.
The Christians answered them agen, More like to Angels, then like Men: Our Canonneers with Courage stands, Three times dismounted their great Guns; Each time our Souldiers sallied forth, Kill'd all that durst oppose their Arms: Each Christian Sword, for ten too hard, Which gave their Camps too true Alarms. A Hundred Mines at least they sprung, Our Works blown up, both small and strong, Quartered Men blown in the Air, Kill, Kill, was all the Language there: Their Trenches fill'd with slaughtered Turks, Their Camp infected by the smell; Guns went thump, thump; Plague Dam the Rump, That taught all Nations to Rebel. This Thunder, Tempest, Fire, and Blood, We Fifty Days and Nights withstood; Their Treacherous Mines we Countermin'd, And Kill'd their Miners there confin'd: We Kill'd'em Seventy Thousand Men, Of our Fifteen was left but Five; Brave POLAND then, like Caesar, came the Captive Town for to releive. Like Gods the Christians made their way, As if they scorn'd to loose the day: And to Revenge the Christian Cause, They layed in more then Humane Blows; And Fighting through their Ranks by force, At every blow cut down a Turk: To th' Knees in Blood, Run, Run that cou'd, The Christians then had done their Work. Like Fiends before the approaching Sun, The Turks before the Christians Run; Their Gold and Jewels, Tents and Guns, Fell all into the Christians Hands: No Tecklet all this Brunt appear'd, Jack Presbyter lik'd not the sport; And the Turk doth Swear, this Thousand Year, He'l come no more at th' Emperours Court.
LONDON, Printed for J. Dean, Bookseller in Cranborn-street, in Leicester-Fields, near Newport-House.