The Gosport Tragedy- (Lon) c.1720s Cluer broadside
[Version Aa. The broadside of 34 stanzas is entitled, "The Gosport Tragedy: Or, The Perjured Ship-Carpenter," which was "Printed and Sold at the Printing Office in Bow Church-yard, London." It appears in The Roxburghe Ballads, Volume 8 by William Chappell (1897) and is dated circa 1750 by Ebsworth. The British Library dates the broadside circa 1720 and the printer at Bow church-yard in 1720 would have been John Cluer who died in 1727. Subsequent printers at Bow Church-Yard include Cluer's wife Elizabeth, her 2nd husband, Thomas Cobb managed the shop until 1736 and was followed by Elizabeth's brother William Dicey. "The Gosport Tragedy" was to be sung to "Peggy's gone over the sea [with the soldier]."
In The Gosport Tragedy: Story Of A Ballad by David C. Fowler, 1978 he proposes that the ballad was printed about the events of 1726 when the Bedford was moored at Portsmouth and the ship's carpenter was John Billson, who began his duties on-board in 1723 and died there in 1726. John Cluer would have had to print the ballad shortly thereafter because he died a year later.
Fowler says Dicey lists a later printing of the ballad "in his catalogue of 1754 (unique copy in Bodleian Library), but this was very likely a new edition, of which I suspect a copy survives in the Crawford Collection (Bibliotheca Lindesiana no 655)."
The Gosport Tragedy was either: 1) based on the events of 1726 as proposed by David Fowler, 2) based on a similar murder in that region or 3) based on an earlier traditional ballad of unknown origin or date. The broadside is written in a semi-florid style which would not be found in tradition.
R. Matteson 2016]
Aa. The GOSPORT Tragedy: Or, The Perjured Ship-Carpenter. "Printed and Sold at the Printing Office in Bow Church-yard, London." circa 1750 [from: The Roxburghe Ballads, Volume 8; 1897]
IN Gosport of late there a damsel did dwell,
For wit and for beauty did many excel;
A young man did court her to be his dear,
And he by his trade was a ship-carpenter.
He said, "Oh! dear Molly! if you will agree,
And will consent to marry me;
My love you will ease me of sorrow and care,
If you will but wed a ship-carpenter."
With blushes more charming than roses in June.
She answer'd Sweet William, "To wed I'm too young.
Young men are so fickle I see very plain,
If a maid is not coy they will her disdain."
"They flatter and swear their[her] charms they adore,
When gain'd their[her] consent, they care for no more;
The handsomest creature that ever was born,
When man has enjoy'd, he will hold in scorn."
"My charming Molly what makes you say so?
Thy beauty's the haven to which I would go.
So [if] into that country I chance for to steer
There will [I] cast anchor, and stay with my dear."
"I ne'er shall be cloy'd with the charms of my love,
My love is as true as the turtle-dove;
And all [that] I crave is to wed with my dear,
And when thou art mine no danger I fear."
"The life of a Virgin, sweet William, I prize,
For marriage brings sorrows and troubles likewise;
I am loath to venture, and therefore forbear!
For I will not wed a ship-carpenter."
"For in the time of war to the sea you must go,[1]
And leave wife and children in sorrow and woe?
The seas they are perilous, therefore forbear,
For I will not wed with a ship-carpenter."
But yet all in vain, she his suit did deny,
Though he still did Press her to make her comply;
At length with his cunning he did her betray,
And to lewd desire he led her away.
But when with [that] child this young woman were,
The tydings she instantly sent to her dear;
And by the good Heaven he swore to be true.
Saying, "I will wed no other but you."
They passed on [their time], till at length we[he] hears,
The king wants sailors! to the sea he repairs,
Which grieved the damsel unto the heart.
To think she so soon with her lover must part.
She said, "My dear William e're thou go'st to sea,
Remember the vows that thou madest to me;
But if you forsake me I never shall rest,
Oh! why dost thou leave me with sorrow opprest?"
Then with kind embraces to her he did say,
"I'll wed thee, dear Molly, e're I go away;
And if to-morrow to me thou dost come,
A licence I'll buy, and it shall be done."
So with kind embraces he parted that night,
She wen[t] to meet him in the morning light;
He said, "Dear charmer thou must go with me,
Before we are wedded, a friend to see."
He led her through valleys and groves so deep,
At length this maiden began for to weep;
Saying, "William, I fancy thou leadst me astray,
On purpose my innocent life to betray."
He said, "That is true, and none you can save,
For I all this night have been digging a grave."
Poor innocent soul! when she heard him say so,
Her eyes like a fountain began for to flow.
"O perjur'd creature! the worst of all men!
Heavens reward thee when I'm dead and gone:
O pity the infant, and spare my[own] life,
Let me go distress'd if I'm not thy wife."
Her hands white as lillies in sorrow she wrung,
Beseeching for mercy, saying, "What have I done
To you my dear William, what makes you severe?
For to murder one that loves you so dear."
[He] said, "Here's no time disputing to stand,"
And instantly taking the knife in his hand;
He pierced her body till the blood it did flow,
Then into the grave her body did throw.
He cover'd her body, then home he did run,
Leaving none but birds her death to mourn;
On board the Bedford he entered straitway,
Which lay at Portsmouth out-bound for the sea.
For carpenters mate he was enter'd we hear,
Fitted for his voyage away he did steer;
But as in his cabin one night he did lie,
The voice of his sweetheart he heard to cry:
"O perjur'd villain! awake now and hear,
The voice of your love, that lov'd you so dear;
This ship out of Portsmouth never shall go,
Till I am revenged for this overthrow."
She afterward vanished with shrieks and cries,[2]
Flashes of lightning did dart from her eyes;
Which put the ships crew into great fear,
None saw the ghost, but the voice they did hear.
Charles Stuart, a man of courage so bold,
One night was going into the Hold:
A beautiful creature to him did appear,
And she in her arms had a daughter most fair.
The charms of this so glorious a face,
Being merry in drink, he goes to embrace:
But to his surprise it vanish'd away,
So he went to the captain without more delay.
And told him the story, which when he did hear,
The captain said, "Some of my men I do fear
Have done some murder, and if it be so,
Our ship in great danger to the sea must go."
One at a time then his merry men all,
Into his cabin he did strait call,
And said, "My lads the news I do hear
Doth much surprise me with sorrow and fear."
"This ghost which appear'd in the dead of the night
Which all my seaman so sadly did fright;
I fear has been wrong'd by some of my crew,
And therefore the person I fain would know."
Then William affrighted did tremble with fear
And began by the powers above to swear;
He nothing at all of the matter did know,
But as from the captain he went to go.
Unto his surprize his true love did see,
With that he immediately fell on his knee:
And said, "Here's my true love! where shall I run?
O save me, or else I am surely undone."
Now he the murder confessed out of hand,
And said, "Before me my Molly doth stand,
Sweet injur'd ghost thy pardon I crave,
And soon I will seek thee in the silent grave."
No one but this wretch did see this sad sight,
Then raving distracted he dy'd in the night:
As soon as her parents these tydings did hear
They sought for the body of their daughter dear.
Near a place call'd Southampton in a valley deep
The body was found, while many did weep
At the fall of the damsel and her daughter dear,
In Gosport church they bury'd her there.
"I hope that this may be a warning to all,
Young men how innocent maids they enthral:
Young men be constant and true to your love,
Then a blessing indeed will attend you above."
1. This stanza missing from "Gleanings"
2. The first and second line of the broadside have been switched here.