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Sweet Swansea

[ Roud 1612 ; Ballad Index HaGa049 ; VWML CJS2/10/1441 ; Mudcat 114057 ; trad.]

May Bradley sang Sweet Swansea on the 1971 EFDSS album Garners Gay: English Folk Songs recorded by Fred Hamer, and it was included in Hamer’s book of the same name. It was also included in 2010 as the title track of May Bradley’s Musical Tradition anthology Sweet Swansea. According to May Bradley the song was based on an actual incident, and had been written by her ‘double great grandfather’; and it’s certainly the case that only one other version is known to have been collected, by Cecil Sharp in 1907, from Caroline Passmore, Pitminster, Somerset [VWML CJS2/10/1441] .

John Kirkpatrick and Sue Harris sang Sweet Swansea in 1974 on their Topic LP The Rose of Britain’s Isle and John Kirkpatrick returned to it in 2012 on his CD Every Mortal Place. He noted on the first album:

Collected by Fred Hamer from the excellent Shropshire singer, May Bradley. Two of the gypsy families who travelled the Welsh borders were the Smiths and Bradleys; they were always fighting and still have occasional scraps in Ludlow where both families have settled and, strangely enough, constantly intermarry. May Bradley says the song was written by her ‘double great grandfather’, a Smith, whilst in gaol for trespassing with his caravan.

Andy Turner sang Sweet Swansea as the 12 March 2012 entry of his project A Folk Song a Week.

Lyrics

May Bradley sings Sweet Swansea

The first time I entered Sweet Swansea,
For the truth unto you I will tell
I were handcuffed and put into prison
And locked up in a dark dismal cell.

My cell being so dark which(?) and dismal
No light I could see there at all
For the neat little door it were bolted
And a plank for my pillow that night.

Bad luck to the judges and juries
What won’t leave a poor prisoner go free.
Every man to the friend and relations
But it’s me for my sweet liberty.

Next morning my turnkey came to me
And he told me to fold up my bed.
He did handle me a tin of cold water
And a small little loaf of brown bread.

Bad luck to the judges and juries
What won’t leave a poor prisoner go free
Every man for their friend and relations
But it’s me for my sweet liberty.

If I could only find a sweet eagle
I would borrow her wings for to fly,
I would fly to the arms of my true love
And it’s on her sweet bosom I’d lay.

John Kirkpatrick sings Sweet Swansea

Oh the first time I entered sweet Swansea,
Oh the truth unto you I will tell
I was handcuffed and put into prison
And locked up in a dark dismal cell.

My cell was dark dismal and lonely
No light I could see there at all
For the neat little door it was bolted
And my bed was a plank by the wall.

Next morning my turnkey came to me
And he told me to fold up my bed.
He did hand me a tin of cold water
And a small little loaf of brown bread.

Bad luck to those judges and juries
That won’t let a poor prisoner go free
Every man to his friend and relations
And it’s me for my sweet liberty.

If I only could find a sweet eagle
I would borrow his wings and I’d fly,
𝄆 I would fly to the arms of my true love
And it’s on her sweet bosom I’d lie. 𝄇