The Gosport Tragedy- (Scot) 1825 Buchan
[My version Ac. From: Gleanings of Scotch, English, and Irish, scarce old ballads, etc." edited by Peter Buchan, 1825. His notes follow. Buchan's version is based on print, a Scottish chapbook of circa 1800 (ref. Jim Brown, Mudcat) which is also 33 stanzas (whereas the standard version, Aa, is 34 stanzas). The missing stanza is the Roxburghe broadside's 7th stanza beginning, "For in the time of war. . ."
The opening line is different that Roxburghe but is found traditionally and in several print sources including The Deming Broadside. In 1881 Christie gives a melody for Buchan's text and an informant-- however, his report of his version is questionable. J. Brown: The Buchan version has, with "kindest expressions" rather than the Roxburghe version's "kind embraces" (compare the "tender expressions" in the Deming version) and the line about bringing the priest instead of "A licence I'll buy, and it shall be done" (different also from "The ring I can buy, our fond union to crown" in Deming).
R. Matteson 2016]
Buchan's Notes: How many stratagems does the devil invent to decoy and ensnare poor unsuspecting females? And how oft is the tender heart of the modest maiden made to shed tears of blood by the savage oppression of cruel and tyranical man? Molly, once the beauty of Gosport, was inhumanly butchered for too implicitly placing her affections on one of these ungrateful, and blood-thristy cannibals --The consequence however was, as is always the case, the murderer met with his due reward.
The Gosport Tragedy.
In Gosport of late a young damsel did dwell,
For wit and for beauty did many excel,
A young man did court her for to be his dear,
And he by his trade was a ship-carpenter.
He said, my dear Molly, if you will agree,
And now will consent love, for to marry me,
Your love it will ease me of sorrow and care,
If you will but marry a ship-carpenter.
With blushes more charming than roses in June,
She answered sweet William, to wed I'm too young,
For young men are fickle I see very plain.
If a maid she is kind they'll her quickly disdain.
They'll flatter her how her charms they adore,
If they gain her consent they'll care for us no more,
The most beautiful woman that ever was born,
If a man has enjoyed her—her beauty he'll scorn.
My charming sweet Molly why do you say so?
Thy beauty's the haven to which I must go,
And if in that channel I chance far[for] to stear,
I there will cast anchor, and stay with my dear.
I ne'er will be cloy'd with the charms of my love,
My heart is as true as the sweet turtle dove,
And all that I crave is to marry my dear,
And when you're my own no danger I'll fear.
The life of a virgin, sweet William, I prize,
For marriage brings sorrow and trouble likewise,
I'm loth [loath] for to venture and therefore forbear,
For I will not marry a ship-carpenter.
But yet all in vain he his suit did deny,
For still unto love he's forc'd her to comply,
At length with his cunning he did her betray,
Unto lewd desires he led her astray.
But when with child this young damsel did prove,
The tidings directly she sent to her love,
And by the heavens he swore to be true,
Saying I'll marry none other but you.
This past on a while, at length we do hear,
The king wanted sailors, to the sea he must steer,
Which griev'd the young damsel indeed to the heart,
To think with sweet William so soon for to part.
She said, my dear William, e'er you go to sea,
Remember the vows which you made unto me,
And if you leave me, I ne'er shall have rest,
And why will you leave me with sorrow opprest?
The kindest expressions to her he did say,
I'll marry my Molly e'er I go away.
And if that to me to-morrow you'll come,
The priest shall be brought love, and all shall be done.
With kindest embraces they parted that night,
She went for to meet him next morning at light,
He said, my dear charmer, you must go with me,
Before we are married, a friend for to see.
He led her thro' groves and vallies so deep,
At length this fair creature began for to weep,
Saying, William, I fancy you lead me astray,
On purpose my innocent life to betray.
He said that is true, and none can you save,
For I all this night have been digging your grave,
Poor harmless creature when she heard him say so,
Her eyes like a fountain began for to flow.
A grave and a spade standing by she did see,
And said, must that be a bridal-bed to me?
O perjured creature, the worst of all men,
Heaven will reward you when I'm dead and gone.
O pity my infant, and spare my sweet life,
Let me go distressed if I'm not your wife;
O take not my life, lest my soul you betray,
Must I in my bloom be thus hurried away?
Her hands white as lilies, in sorrow she wrung,
Intreatlng for mercy, saying what have I done,
To you my dear William, what makes you severe,
To murder your true love that loves you so dear?
He said there's no time for disputing to stand,
And instantly taking the knife in his hand,
He pierced her heart while the blood it did flow,
And into the grave the fair body did throw.
He cover'd the body and home he did come,
Leaving none but the birds her death to bemoan,
On board of the Bedford he enter'd straightway,
Which lay at Portsmouth, and bound for the sea.
For carpenter's mate he was enter'd we hear,
Fit for the voyage away there to stear.
But as in the cabin one night he did lie,
The voice of his true love he heard for to cry,—
O perjured William, awake now and hear,
The words of your true love who lov'd you so dear,
The ship out of Portsmouth it never shall go,
Till I am revenged of my sad overthrow.
This spoken, she vanish'd with shrieks and cries,
The flashes of lightning did dart from her eyes,
Which put the ship's crew in a terrible fear,
Tho' none saw the ghost, the voice they did hear.
Charles Stewart, a man of courage so bold,
One night as he was going down to the hold,
A beautiful creature to him did appear,
And she in her arms had a baby so fair.
Being merry with, drink, he goes to embrace
The charms of this, so lovely a face;
But to his surprise she vanis'd away,
He went to the captain without more delay:
He told him the story, which when he did hear,
He said, now some of my men I do fear
Has done some murder, and if it be so.
Our ship's in great danger, if to sea she does go.
Then on a time his merry men all,
Into the great cabin to him he did.call,
And said, my brave sailors, these news that I hear,
Do really surprise me with sorrow and fear.
The ghost which appears to my men in the night,
And all my brave sailors does sorely affrigt,
I fear has been wronged by some of our crew,
And therefore the person I fain would know.
Then William astonis'd did tremble and fear,
And began by the Powers above for to swear,
He nothing at all of the matter did know,
But as from the captain away, he did go,
Unto his surprise his true love did see,
With that he immediately fell on his knee,
Saving, here is my true love, O where shall I run?
O save me, or else my poor soul is undone.
The murder he did confess out of hand,
Saying here before me my Molly doth stand;
Poor injured ghost thy pardon I crave,
And soon shall follow thee down to the grave.
There's none but the wretch did behold this sad sight
Then raving distracted, he died in the night:
But when that her parents those tidings did hear,
They sought tor the body of their daughter so dear.
Near a place in Southampton, in a valley so deep,
The body was found, while many did weep,
At the fate of the damsel and baby so fair,
In Gosport Church-yard, they bury'd her there.
I hope this will be a warning to all
Young men, who innocent maids do enthral;
You young men be constant and true to your love,
And blessings will 'tend you, be sure, from above.