“Pretty Polly” Ralph Stanley & Patty Loveless

The song is a murder ballad, telling of a young woman lured into the forest where she is killed and buried in a shallow grave. Many variants of the story have the villain as a ship’s carpenter who promises to marry Polly but murders her when she becomes pregnant. When he goes back to sea, either he is haunted by her ghost, confesses to the murder, goes mad and dies, or the ship will not sail. He denies the murder and is ripped to pieces by her ghost.

“The Gosport Tragedy” evolved into “The Cruel Ship’s Carpenter” and “Pretty Polly“, losing many of the specifics of the original.

In the United States, the song had gained new life as a banjo tune by the time of its earliest recordings in the mid-1920s: John Hammond’s “Purty Polly” of 1925 and 1927, and the “Pretty Polly” versions of B. F. Shelton and Dock Boggs, both of 1927.

American versions of the song, such as those of B.F. Shelton and Dock Boggs, tend to begin in the first person (“I courted Pretty Polly…”) and switch to the third person for the murder (“he stabbed her to the heart”); Jean Ritchie’s 1963 recording, as well as Judy Collins’ 1968 recording, featured alternating verses switching back and forth between Polly and Willie’s perspectives. American versions also tend to either omit the reason for killing Pretty Polly or portray him as a spurned suitor, and Willie’s subsequent madness, debt to the devil, or haunting by Polly’s ghost, with the remorseful killer instead turning himself in and confessing to the police.

Complete Lyrics:

I courted Pretty Polly the live-long night
I courted Pretty Polly the live-long night
Then left her the next morning before it was light.

Polly, Pretty Polly, come go away with me,
Before we get married some pleasure to see.

He led her over the fields and the valleys so wide
Until pretty Polly, she fell by his side.

Oh Willie, oh Willie, I’m afraid of your ways
I’m afraid you will lead my poor body astray.

Pretty Polly, Pretty Polly, your guess is just right
I dug on your grave the best part of last night.

She threw her arms around him and trembled with fear
How can you kill the poor girl that loves you so dear?

There’s no time to talk and there’s no time to stand
Then he drew his knife all in his right hand.

He stabbed her to the heart and her heart’s blood did flow
And into the grave pretty Polly did go.

He threw a little dirt over her and started for home
Leaving no one behind but the wild birds to mourn.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]