Hi,

I found Caroline Hughes version from "1963 and 1966 recordings made by Ewan MacColl, Peggy Seeger and Charles Parker . ." on Topic. This is different than teh version in Travellers' Songs from England and Scotland by Ewan Maccoll, Peggy Seeger. It has two extra lines and no missing lines- it also has a spoken version of the ballad first. I noticed that it's spelled "Bridgwater".

Apparently Kennedy recorded her later in 1968 and than version is different too.

The Bridgwater Farmer- spoken then sung by Caroline Hughes c. 1963

Spoken:

. . . near Bridgwater,
He had two sons and a daughter dear;
They feeled it fitting to plough the ocean
To plough the ocean that raged so clear.
Our servant man's going to wed my sister,
My sister she have got mind to wed.
They have soon courtship and their blood they have ... (slaughter?)
And send her to a silent grave
Well now hunting three days and three nights she lately dreamed
She dreamed, she dreamed of her own true love;
By her bedside there was tears like fountains,
Covered over with gores of blood.
She rose in the morning and come to her brothers
"Dear brothers, you're welcome home
And where's our dear servant man?
My brothers you killed him and ain't you cruel?"
She got hold of her horse, she saddled her horse;
Down through the copse as she was riding,
She heard a mournful, dreadful noise
She got off from her horse and she raised down on him
She pulled her pocket handkerchief and she wiped his eyes
With tears of salt like any bride.
My brothers have killed you and ain't they cruel?
That's just to send you to your silent grave.

Sings the tune. Then, sung:

Oh there was a farmer living near Bridgwater
Well he had two sons and one daughter dear;
Well she felt it fitting for to plough the ocean
Oh to plough the ocean, oh that raged so clear.
Surely, surely, they was deluded,
Which caused this poor farmer to live in fear.

Well, our servant man's a-going to wed my sister,
Yes, my sister she have got mind to wed.
You will soon courtship and it won't be longing
Surelye, surelye, that will drive me wild.

Well three days and three nights, oh she latelye mention,
Oh she dreamed, she dreamed of her own true love;
Oh by her bedside there was tears like fountains,
Covered over and over all by gores of blood.

She come dressed herself, she come down to her brothers,
A-crying tears like lumps of salt;
Dear brother, oh, tell, do tell me where he's?
You've killed my love, and you'll tell me too [true]

Down through the woods oh that she went a-riding,
Oh, she heard a mournfully bitter cry;
Surelye, surelye, that's my own dear true love,
In the brake of briars oh he's throwed and killed.

Oh she got off'n her horse and she looked down on him,
Wiping the tears from her eyes oh like any brine;
My brothers have killed you and ain't they cruel?
Surelye, surelye, that now would drive me mad.

Richie