The Gosport Tragedy- Deming broadside (MA) 1835

 The Gosport Tragedy- Deming broadside (MA) 1835

[Ba, a broadside was "Sold Wholesale and Retail by Leonard Deming, No. 1, Market Square, corner of Merchant's Row, Boston." It is dated c. 1835 and a copy is available at the Library of Congress online. The Deming broadside (Ba) is significantly shorter at 27 stanzas to the 34 stanzas of the nearly 100 year earlier Roxburghe broadside (Aa). This is some of the new text, changed or not found in Aa:

15.1 A grave with a spade lying near she did see,
15.2 Which caused her to sigh and weep bitterly;

16.3 Oh! take not my life, lest my soul you betray,
16.4 And you to perdition be hurried away.

22) The captain soon summon'd the jovial ship's crew,
And said, my brave fellows, I fear some of you
Have murder'd some damsel ere you came away
Whose injur'd ghost now haunts you on the sea.

23) Whoever you be, if the truth you deny,
When found out, you'll be hung on the yard be high:
But he who confesses, his life we'll not take,
But leave him on the first island we make.

Who is the source of this new text? And why is this text, especially stanza 23, found in many versions in North America? It seems possible that the older broadside Aa was used for the opening stanzas. We know this because the murdered girl's name is Molly as in the Aa broadside-- then inexplicably changes to Mary. Could it be that an editor took a traditional version of Gosport (with the murdered girl named Mary) and changed the end of older broadside (Aa) but kept the beginning (leaving off stanzas 4 and 8)? How else could stanza 23 of Ba turn up in remote, inaccessible areas such as Nova Scotia and Newfoundland? If this logic follows could it also be possible that the traditional ballad used to change Ba could actually be the older ballad, predating 1726?

According to the American Antiquarian society at least one earlier printing (a private printing c.1811) of the Deming text was made in Baltimore. Because stanzas unique to this broadside have been found in the Orkney Islands (Scotland), Maritime Canada, and Appalachia, it's possible that this broadside is of an unknown British origin.

R. Matteson 2016]

 

Ba. Deming Broadside; c. 1835 Boston , MA.



The Gosport Tragedy,

    Shewing how a young damsel was seduced by a ship-carpenter, who led her into a lonesome wood, and there destroyed her—how her ghost haunted him at sea, and he died distracted.

    IN Gosport of late a young damsel did dwell,
    For wit and for beauty few did her excel;
    A young man did court her for to be his dear,
    And he by his trade was a ship carpenter.

    He said, dearest Molly, if you will agree,
    And give your consent dear for to marry me,
    Your love it can cure me of sorrow and care,
    Consent then to wed with a ship carpenter.

    With blushes as charming as roses in June,
    She answered, dear William to wed I'm too young
    For young men are fickle, I see very plain,
    If a maiden is kind they are quickly disdain.

    My charming sweet Molly how can you say so?
    Thy beauty's the heaven to which I would go;
    If there I find channel when I chance for to steer,
    I then will cast anchor and stay with my dear.

    I ne'er will be cloyd with the charms of my love,
    My heart is as true as the sweet turtle dove,
    And what I now crave is to wed with my dear,
    For when we are married no danger I'll fear.

    The state of a virgin sweet William I prize,
    For marriage brings sorrow and trouble likewise;
    I'm afraid for to venture, therefore forbear,
    I never will marry with a ship carpenter,

    But yet 'twas in vain that she strove to deny,
    For he by his cunning soon made her comply;
    And by base deception he did her betray,
    In sin's hellish paths he led her astray.

    But when this young damsel with child she did prove,
    She quick sent the tidings to her faithless love;
    Who swore by the heavens that he would prove true,
    And said I will marry no damsel but you.

    Things pass'd on a while, but at length we do hear,
    His ship must be sailing, for sea he must steer,
    Which griev'd this poor damsel, wounded her heart
    To think with her lover she so sudden must part.

    Cry'd she, dearest William, ere you go to sea,
    Remember the vows you have made unto me,
    If at home you don't tarry I never can rest,
    Then how can you leave me with sorrow oppress'd?

    With tender expressions to her he did say,
    I'll marry my Mary ere I go to sea;
    And if that to morrow my love will ride down,
    The ring I can buy our fond union to crown.

    With tender embraces they parted the night,
    And promised to meet the next morning by light;
    When William said—- Mary you must go with me,
    Before we are maried, our friends for to see.

    He led her through groves and vallies so deep,
    At length the young damsel began for to weep,
    Crying, William I fear you will lead me astray,
    On purpose my innocent life to betray.

    He said you've guess'd right all earth cant you save
    For the whole of last night I've been digging your grave
    When poor ruin'd Mary did hear him say so,
    The tears from her eyes like a fountain did flow.

    A grave with a spade lying near she did see,
    Which caused her to sigh and to weep bitterly,
    O! perjury William, the worst of mankind,
    Is this the bride's bed, I expected to find?

    O! pity my infant and spare my poor life,
    Let me live full of shame if I can't be your wife,
    O! take not my life least my soul you betray,
    And you to perdition be hurried away.

    Her hands, white as lillies, in sorrow she wrung,
    Imploring for mercy, crying, what have I done,
    To you dearest William, so comely and fair,
    Will you murder your true love, that lov'd you so dear

    He said this is no time disputing to stand,
    Then instantly taking a knife in his hand,
    He pierc'd her fair breast, whence the blood it did flew
    And into the grave her fair body did throw.

    He cover'd the body and quick hastend home,
    Leaving none but the small birds her state to bemoan,
    On board ship he enter'd without more delay,
    And set sail from Plymouth to plough the salt sea.

    A young man nam'd Stewart, of courage most bold,
    One night happen'd late to go into the hold,
    Where a beautiful damsel to him did appear,
    And she in her arms, held an infant most fair.

    Being merry with liquor he went to embrace,
    Transported with joy at beholding her face;
    When to his amazement she vanished away,
    Which he told the captain without more delay.

    The captain soon summoned the jovial ship's crew,
    And said, my brave fellows, I fear some of you
    Have murdered some damsel ere you came away,
    Whose injured ghost haunts you now on the sea.

    Whoever you be, if the truth you deny,[2]
    When found out, you'll be hung at the yard arm so high
    But he who confesses, his life we'll not take,
    But leave him upon the first island we make.

    Then William immediately fell on his knees,
    The blood in his veins quick with horror did freeze;
    He cried, cruel murder! oh! what have I done?
    God help me, I feat my poor soul is undone!

    Poor injured ghost your full pardon I crave,
    For soon I must follow you down to the grave.
    None else but this poor wretch beheld this sad sight,
    And raving distracted, he died the same night.

    Now when her sad parents these tidings did hear,
    They search'd for the body of their daughter so dear,
    Near the town of Southampton, in valley most deep,
    The body was found, which caused many to weep.

    In Gosport's green church yard her ashes now lie,
    And we hope that her soul is with God in the skies;
    Then let this sad tale be a warning to all,
    Who dare a poor innocent maid to enthral!

    AN Assortment of SONGS, second to none in the City, may be found at L. DEMING'S, corner of Merchants Row and Market Square.

    Sold Wholesale and Retail by Leonard Deming, No. 1, Market Square, corner of Merchant's Row, Boston.