This is a modern-English version of Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England, originally written by Halliwell-Phillipps, J. O. (James Orchard).
It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling,
and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If
you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.
Scroll to the bottom of this page and you will find a free ePUB download link for this book.
POPULAR RHYMES AND NURSERY TALES.
Contents
Contents
PREFACE.
It were greatly to be desired that the instructors of our children could be persuaded how much is lost by rejecting the venerable relics of nursery traditional literature, and substituting in their place the present cold, unimaginative,—I had almost said, unnatural,—prosaic good-boy stories. "In the latter case," observes Sir Walter Scott, "their minds are, as it were, put into the stocks, like their feet at the dancing-school, and the moral always consists in good conduct being crowned with success. Truth is, I would not give one tear shed over Little Red Riding Hood for all the benefit to be derived from a hundred histories of Jemmy Goodchild. I think the selfish tendencies will be soon enough acquired in this arithmetical age; and that, to make the higher class of character, our own wild fictions—like our own simple music—will have more effect in awakening the fancy and elevating the disposition, than the colder and more elaborate compositions of modern authors and composers."
It would be greatly beneficial if the educators of our children could understand how much is lost by dismissing the cherished treasures of nursery literature and replacing them with the current bland, unimaginative—I might even say, unnatural—prosaic good-boy stories. "In the latter case," notes Sir Walter Scott, "their minds are, in a way, put into confinement, much like their feet at dance class, and the moral always comes down to good behavior leading to success. Honestly, I wouldn’t trade one tear shed over Little Red Riding Hood for all the lessons you could get from a hundred stories about Jemmy Goodchild. I believe the selfish tendencies will develop soon enough in this numerical age; and that to cultivate a higher character, our own wild tales—much like our simple music—will be far more effective in sparking imagination and uplifting spirit than the colder and more intricate works of modern authors and composers."
Deeply impressed with this truth, and firmly convinced of the "imagination-nourishing" power of the wild and fanciful lore of the old nursery, I have spared no labour in collecting the fragments which have been traditionally preserved in our provinces. The object is not so much to present to the reader a few literary trifles, though even their curiosity and value in several important discussions must not be despised, as to rescue in order to restore; a solemn recompense due from literature for having driven them away; and to recall the memory to early associations, in the hope that they who love such recollections will not suffer the objects of them to disappear with the present generation.
Deeply impressed by this truth and firmly convinced of the "imagination-nourishing" power of the wild and fanciful stories from our childhood, I have put in a lot of effort to gather the bits and pieces that have been traditionally preserved in our regions. The aim is not just to offer the reader a few literary curiosities—though their curiosity and significance in various important discussions shouldn’t be overlooked—but to rescue and restore them; a serious debt from literature for having pushed them aside. I hope to remind people of early memories, trusting that those who cherish such recollections will ensure that the subjects of them don’t fade away with this generation.
In arranging the materials gathered for this little volume, I have followed, in some respects, the plan adopted by Mr. Robert Chambers, in his elegant work, the Popular Rhymes of Scotland; but our vernacular anthology will be found to contain so much which does not occur in any shape in that of the sister country, that the two collections have not as much similarity as might have been expected. Together, they will eventually contain nearly all that is worth preserving of what may be called the natural literature of Great Britain. Mr. Chambers, indeed, may be said to have already exhausted the subject for his own land in the last edition of his interesting publication, but no systematic attempt has yet been made in the same direction for this country; and although the curiosity and extent of the relics I have been enabled to collect have far exceeded my expectations, I am fully aware how much more can yet be accomplished. An additional number of foreign synonymes could also no doubt be collected; though perhaps more easily by foreigners, for Continental works which contain notices of traditional literature are procured with difficulty in England. The following pages, however, contain sufficient of these to exhibit the striking similarities between rhymes prevalent over England, and others which exist in the North of Europe.
In putting together the materials collected for this little book, I have followed, in some ways, the approach taken by Mr. Robert Chambers in his elegant work, the Popular Rhymes of Scotland; however, our collection of local literature will have a lot that isn't found in any form in that of our neighboring country, so the two collections don't have as much in common as one might expect. Together, they will eventually cover almost everything worth preserving of what can be called the natural literature of Great Britain. Mr. Chambers has essentially covered the topic for his own country in the latest edition of his intriguing publication, but no organized effort has yet been made in the same direction for this country. While the range and depth of the material I have managed to collect have far exceeded my expectations, I am well aware that there's still much more that can be done. We could also definitely gather more foreign synonyms; though that might be easier for foreigners, as obtaining Continental works that contain information about traditional literature is difficult in England. The following pages, however, include enough of these to showcase the striking similarities between rhymes found across England and others that exist in Northern Europe.
The collection of Nursery Tales is not as extensive as could have been wished, but the difficulty of procuring the brief traditional stories which were current some century since, now for the most part only recollected in obscure districts, is so great, that no apology is necessary for the apparent deficiency of that section. The few which have been obtained are of considerable curiosity and interest; and I would venture to suggest to all readers of these pages the great obligation they would confer by the communication of any additions. Stories of this kind are undoubtedly to be obtained from oral tradition, and perhaps some of literary importance may yet be recovered.
The collection of Nursery Tales isn't as extensive as we might have hoped, but finding the brief traditional stories that were popular over a century ago, now mostly remembered only in remote areas, is quite challenging. Therefore, there's no need to apologize for the noticeable lack in this section. The few tales that have been gathered are quite intriguing and interesting; I would encourage all readers of this book to share any additions they might have. Stories like these can definitely be found in oral traditions, and there may still be some of literary significance that can be rediscovered.
The compiler's best thanks are due to Captain Henry Smith for the very interesting communication of rhymes current in the Isle of Wight; to Mr. George Stephens for several curious fragments, and valuable references to Swedish songs; and to many kind correspondents who have furnished me with rhymes current in the various districts in which they reside. It is only by a large provincial correspondence that a collection of this kind can be rendered complete, and the minutest information on any of our popular tales or rhymes, forwarded to the address given below, would be most thankfully and carefully acknowledged.
The compiler's sincere thanks go to Captain Henry Smith for sharing the fascinating rhymes from the Isle of Wight, to Mr. George Stephens for several intriguing fragments and useful references to Swedish songs, and to many generous contributors who have provided me with rhymes from the different areas they live in. Only through extensive local correspondence can a collection like this become complete, and any detailed information about our popular tales or rhymes sent to the address below would be greatly appreciated and acknowledged with care.
Brixton Hill, Surrey; April 1849.
POPULAR RHYMES
Famous Rhymes
AND
AND
NURSERY TALES.
Children's Stories.
I.—NURSERY ANTIQUITIES.
Although the names of Scott and Grimm may be enumerated amongst the writers who have acknowledged the ethnological and philosophic value of traditional nursery literature, it is difficult to impress on the public mind the importance of a subject apparently in the last degree trifling and insignificant, or to induce an opinion that the jingles and simple narratives of a garrulous nurse can possess a worth beyond the circle of their own immediate influence.
Although Scott and Grimm are often listed among the writers who recognize the cultural and philosophical significance of traditional nursery literature, it’s challenging to make the public understand the importance of a topic that seems utterly trivial and unimportant, or to convince people that the rhymes and simple stories told by a chatty caretaker can have value beyond their immediate sphere.
But they who despise the humbler sources of literary illustration must be content to be told, and hereafter to learn, that traces of the simplest stories and most absurd superstitions are often more effectual in proving the affinity of different races, and determining other literary questions, than a host of grander and more imposing monuments. The history of fiction is continually efficacious in discussions of this kind, and the identities of puerile sayings frequently answer a similar purpose. Both, indeed, are of high value. The humble chap-book is found to be descended not only from medieval romance, but also not unfrequently from the more ancient mythology, whilst some of our simplest nursery-rhymes are chanted to this day by the children of Germany, Denmark, and Sweden, a fact strikingly exhibiting their great antiquity and remote origin.
But those who look down on simpler sources of literary examples should be prepared to hear, and eventually learn, that traces of the simplest stories and the silliest superstitions are often more effective in proving the connection between different races and addressing other literary issues than a multitude of grander and more impressive monuments. The history of fiction is consistently useful in these discussions, and the similarities of childish sayings often serve a similar purpose. Both are, in fact, highly valuable. The humble chapbook is discovered to be descended not only from medieval romance but also often from more ancient mythology, while some of our simplest nursery rhymes are still sung by children in Germany, Denmark, and Sweden today, which strikingly showcases their great antiquity and distant origins.
The subject, however curious and interesting, is far too diffuse to be investigated at any length in a work like the present; and, indeed, the materials are for the most part so scattered and difficult of access, that it would require the research of many years to accomplish the task satisfactorily. I shall, then, content myself with indicating a few of the most striking analogies between the rhymes of foreign countries and those of our own, for this portion of the inquiry has been scarcely alluded to by my predecessors. With regard to the tales, a few notices of their antiquity will be found in the prefaces or notes to the stories themselves, and few readers will require to be informed that Whittington's cat realized his price in India, and that Arlotto related the story long before the Lord Mayor was born; that Jack the Giant-killer is founded on an Edda; or that the slipper of Cinderella finds a parallel in the history of the celebrated Rhodope. To enter into these discussions would be merely to repeat an oft-told tale, and I prefer offering a few notes which will be found to possess a little more novelty.
The topic, while curious and interesting, is way too broad to explore in depth in a work like this; plus, the materials are mostly so scattered and hard to find that it would take years of research to tackle it properly. Instead, I’ll be happy to highlight a few of the most notable similarities between the rhymes from other countries and those from our own, since this part of the investigation hasn’t really been touched on by my predecessors. As for the stories, you’ll find some mentions of their age in the prefaces or notes to the stories themselves, and most readers probably already know that Whittington's cat fetched a good price in India, and that Arlotto told the story long before the Lord Mayor was born; that Jack the Giant-killer is based on an Edda; or that Cinderella’s slipper has a counterpart in the tale of the famous Rhodope. Delving into these discussions would just be rehashing old stories, so I’d rather offer a few notes that have a bit more originality.
Of the many who must recollect the nursery jingles of their youth, how few in number are those who have suspected their immense age, or that they were ever more than unmeaning nonsense; far less that their creation belongs to a period before that at which the authentic records of our history commence. Yet there is no exaggeration in such a statement. We find the same trifles which erewhile lulled or amused the English infant, are current in slightly varied forms throughout the North of Europe; we know that they have been sung in the northern countries for centuries, and that there has been no modern outlet for their dissemination across the German Ocean. The most natural inference is to adopt the theory of a Teutonic origin, and thus give to every genuine child-rhyme, found current in England and Sweden, an immense antiquity. There is nothing improbable in the supposition, for the preservation of the relics of primitive literature often bears an inverse ratio to their importance. Thus, for example, a well-known English nursery rhyme tells us,—
Of the many people who remember the nursery rhymes from their childhood, how few realize their great age or suspect they were ever anything more than silly nonsense; even fewer know that their origin dates back to a time before our authentic historical records began. Yet that claim is not exaggerated. The same little songs that once soothed or entertained English children are found in slightly different forms throughout Northern Europe; we know they’ve been sung in northern countries for centuries, and that there hasn’t been any modern way for them to spread across the North Sea. The most logical conclusion is to adopt the idea of a Teutonic origin, giving every true children’s rhyme found in both England and Sweden a significant antiquity. There’s nothing unlikely about this idea, as the preservation of the remnants of early literature often has little to do with their significance. For example, a well-known English nursery rhyme tells us,—
There was an old man,And he had a calf,And that's half;He took him out of the stall,And placed him on the wall,And that's all.
A composition apparently of little interest or curiosity; but Arwidsson, unacquainted with the English rhyme, produces the following as current in Sweden, Svenska Fornsånger, iii. 488, which bears far too striking a similarity to the above to have had a different origin,—
A piece that seems to hold little interest or curiosity; however, Arwidsson, unfamiliar with the English rhyme, presents the following as common in Sweden, Svenska Fornsånger, iii. 488, which shares such a striking resemblance to the above that it likely has the same origin,—
The old man and woman had a calf,And now the song is half!And together they drove the heifer to the meadows,And now the song is complete!
We could not, perhaps, select a better instance of this kind of similarity in nepial songs as current throughout the great northern states of Europe than the pretty stanza on the ladybird. Variations of this familiar song belong to the vernacular literature of England, Germany, Denmark, and Sweden. The version at present current in the North of England is as follows:
We probably couldn’t find a better example of this kind of similarity in folk songs that are popular across the northern states of Europe than the charming stanza about the ladybird. Different versions of this well-known song are part of the local literature in England, Germany, Denmark, and Sweden. The version currently popular in northern England is as follows:
Ladybug, ladybug, fly your way home,Your house is on fire, your children are all gone;All but one who lies under a stone,Fly home, ladybug, before it's all gone! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
| [1] | In Norfolk the lady-bird is called burny-bee, and the following lines are current: In Norfolk, the ladybug is called burny-bee, and the following lines are popular: Burnie bee, burnie bee,
Tell me when your wedding be.
If it be to-morrow day,
Take your wings and fly away.
|
These lines are said by children, when they throw the beautiful little insect into the air, to make it take flight. Two Scottish variations are given by Mr. Chambers, p. 170. In Germany it is called the Virgin Mary's chafer, Marienwürmchen, or the May-chafer, Maikäferchen, or the gold-bird, Guldvogel. In Sweden, gold-hen, gold-cow, or the Virgin Mary's maid. In Denmark, our Lord's hen, or our Lady's hen. We may first mention the German song translated by Taylor as frequently alluded to by writers on this subject. The second verse is the only one preserved in England.
These phrases are used by kids when they toss the lovely little bug into the air to watch it fly. Two Scottish versions are mentioned by Mr. Chambers, p. 170. In Germany, it's known as the Virgin Mary's beetle, Marienwürmchen, or the May beetle, Maikäferchen, or the gold bird, Guldvogel. In Sweden, it’s referred to as gold-hen, gold-cow, or the Virgin Mary's maid. In Denmark, it’s called our Lord's hen, or our Lady's hen. We should first mention the German song translated by Taylor, which is often referenced by writers on this topic. The second verse is the only one preserved in England.
Ladybug! ladybug! lovely one! please stay!Come sit on my finger, so joyful and bright;Nothing bad will happen to you with me;I won’t harm you, no enemy is close,I just want to admire your beauty so precious,Those lovely little wings next to you.Ladybug! ladybug! fly back home;Your house is on fire, your children will roam!Listen! listen! to their cries and mourning!The merciless spider is weaving their doom,So, ladybug! ladybug! fly back home!Hear! hear! your children’s crying.Fly back again, back again, dear ladybug!Your neighbors will happily welcome you here;With them, you will face no dangers!They'll protect you safely from trouble or worry,They'll admire your beautiful wings so fair,And care for, love, and befriend you!
In Des Knaben Wunderhorn, Arnim und Brentano, 1808, iii. 82, 83, 90, we have three German songs relating to the lady-bird. The first two of these are here given:
In Des Knaben Wunderhorn, Arnim and Brentano, 1808, iii. 82, 83, 90, we have three German songs about the ladybug. The first two of these are presented here:
The Golden Bird.Golden bird, fly out,Fly to the poles,Cheese sandwiches are plenty;One for me, one for you,Everyone gets one, too.
"Gold-bird, get thee gone, fly to thy perch, bring cheese-cakes, one for me, one for thee, and one for all good people."
"Gold-bird, go away, fly to your perch, bring cheese-cakes, one for me, one for you, and one for all the good people."
Maybug, maybug, fly away!Your little house is burning,Your mother is crying,Your father is sitting on the threshold,Fly to heaven out of hell.
"May-bird, May-bird, fly away. Thy house burns, thy mother weeps, thy father stays at his threshold, fly from hell into heaven!"—The third is not so similar to our version. Another German one is given in Kuhn und Schwark, Norddeutsche Sagen, 1848, p. 375:
"May-bird, May-bird, fly away. Your house is burning, your mother is crying, your father stands at the door, fly from hell into heaven!"—The third is not so similar to our version. Another German one is given in Kuhn und Schwark, Norddeutsche Sagen, 1848, p. 375:
Maybug, fly,Your father is at war,Your mother is in Pomerania,Pomerania has burned down!Maybug, fly.
"May-bird, fly. Thy father is in the war, thy mother is in Pomerania, Pomerania is burnt! May-bird, fly."—See, also, Erk und Irmer, Die Deutschen Volkslieder, Berlin, 1839, iv. 7, Das Maikäferlied. For the two pretty Swedish songs which follow I am indebted to the MS. of Mr. Stephens. The first is common in the southern parts of that country, the other in the northern.
"Maybird, fly. Your father is at war, your mother is in Pomerania, Pomerania is burning! Maybird, fly."—See also, Erk und Irmer, Die Deutschen Volkslieder, Berlin, 1839, iv. 7, Das Maikäferlied. For the two lovely Swedish songs that follow, I owe credit to the manuscript of Mr. Stephens. The first is common in the southern parts of that country, the other in the northern.
Golden hen, golden cow!Fly east, fly west,Wherever you fly, that's where your beloved lives!
"Gold-hen, gold-cow! fly east, fly west, you will fly where your sweetheart is."
"Gold hen, gold cow! Fly east, fly west, you’ll fly where your sweetheart is."
Ladybug of the Virgin Mary!Fly east, fly west,Fly to where my darling lives! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
| [2] | This is a very remarkable coincidence with an English rhyme: This is a really interesting coincidence with an English rhyme: Fly, lady-bird, fly!
North, south, east, or west;
Fly to the pretty girl
That I love best.
|
"Fly, our holy Virgin's bower-maid! fly east, fly west, fly where my loved-one dwelleth." In Denmark they sing (Thiele, iii. 134):
"Fly, our holy Virgin's maid! Fly east, fly west, fly to where my loved one lives." In Denmark, they sing (Thiele, iii. 134):
Fly, fly, our Lord's own hen!Tomorrow the weather will be nice,And the day after that too. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
| [3] | The lady-bird, observes Mr. Chambers, is always connected with fine weather in Germany and the north. |
Accumulative tales are of very high antiquity. The original of "the House that Jack Built" is well known to be an old Hebrew hymn in Sepher Haggadah. It is also found in Danish, but in a somewhat shorter form; (See Thiele, Danske Folkesagn, II. iii. 146, Der har du det Huus som Jacob bygde;) and the English version is probably very old, as may be inferred from the mention of "the priest all shaven and shorn." A version of the old woman and her sixpence occurs in the same collection, II. iv. 161, Konen och Grisen Fick, the old wife and her piggy Fick,—"There was once upon a time an old woman who had a little pig hight Fick, who would never go home late in the evening. So the old woman said to her stick:
Accumulative tales are really ancient. The original of "the House that Jack Built" is well known to be an old Hebrew hymn in Sepher Haggadah. It's also found in Danish, but in a somewhat shorter form; (See Thiele, Danske Folkesagn, II. iii. 146, Der har du det Huus som Jacob bygde;) and the English version is probably very old, as you can tell from the mention of "the priest all shaven and shorn." A version of the old woman and her sixpence appears in the same collection, II. iv. 161, Konen och Grisen Fick, the old wife and her piggy Fick,—"There was once upon a time an old woman who had a little pig named Fick, who would never go home late in the evening. So the old woman said to her stick:
"Hit Fick, I tell you!""Piggie isn't going home today!"
This chant-tale is also common in Sweden. One copy has been printed by N. Lilja in his Violen en Samling Jullekar, Barnsånger och Sagor, i. 20, Gossen och Geten Näppa, the boy and the goat Neppa,—"There was once a yeoman who had a goat called Neppa, but Neppa would never go home from the field. The yeoman was therefore forced to promise his daughter in marriage to whoever could get Neppa home. Many tried their fortune in vain, but at last a sharp boy offered to ward the goat. All the next day he followed Neppa, and when evening came, he said, 'Now will we homeward go?' but Neppa answered, 'Pluck me a tuft or so,'" &c. The story is conducted in an exactly similar manner in which the dénoûement is brought about in the English tale. [4]
This chant-tale is also common in Sweden. One copy has been printed by N. Lilja in his Violen en Samling Jullekar, Barnsånger och Sagor, i. 20, Gossen och Geten Näppa, the boy and the goat Neppa,—"Once there was a farmer who had a goat named Neppa, but Neppa would never come home from the field. The farmer was therefore forced to promise his daughter in marriage to whoever could bring Neppa home. Many tried their luck in vain, but finally, a clever boy offered to take care of the goat. All the next day, he followed Neppa, and when evening came, he said, 'Now shall we go home?' but Neppa replied, 'Pick me a tuft or so,'" &c. The story is told in exactly the same way as it is in the English tale, where the resolution is reached similarly. [4]
| [4] | Two other variations occur in Arwidsson, Svenska Fornsånger, 1842, iii. 387-8, and Mr. Stephens tells me he has a MS. Swedish copy entitled the Schoolboy and the Birch. It is also well known in Alsace, and is printed in that dialect in Stöber's Elsassisches Volksbüchlein, 1842, pp. 93-5. Compare, also, Kuhn und Schwark, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche, 1848, p. 358, "Die frâ, dos hippel un dos hindel." |
The well-known song of "There was a lady lov'd a swine," is found in an unpublished play of the time of Charles I. in the Bodleian Library, MS. Bodl. 30:
The famous song "There was a lady who loved a pig" is found in an unpublished play from the time of Charles I in the Bodleian Library, MS. Bodl. 30:
There was a lady who loved a pig;Honey, she said,Will you sleep with me tonight?Eww, he said.
A similar song is current in Sweden, as we learn from Arwidsson, Svenska Fornsånger, iii. 482, who gives a version in which an old woman, who had no children, took a little foal, which she called Longshanks, and rocked and nursed it as if it had been her own child: [5]
A similar song is popular in Sweden, as we learn from Arwidsson, Svenska Fornsånger, iii. 482, who shares a version where an old woman, who had no children, took a little foal, which she named Longshanks, and rocked and cared for it as if it were her own child: [5]
The goose wanted a cradleAnd she had no children;So she brought inHer foal,And placed it in her cradle.Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, my long-legged one,You carried long legs;If you live until summer,You’ll be just like your dad.
| [5] | It is still more similar to a pretty little song in Chambers, p. 188, commencing, "There was a miller's dochter." |
Another paradoxical song-tale, respecting the old woman who went to market, and had her petticoats cut off at her knees "by a pedlar whose name was Stout," is found in some shape or other in most countries in Europe. A Norwegian version is given by Asbjörnsen og Moe, Norske Folkeeventyr, 1843, and, if I recollect rightly, it is also found in Grimm.
Another contradictory story about the old woman who went to the market and had her petticoats cut off at her knees "by a pedlar named Stout" exists in various forms across most European countries. A Norwegian version is provided by Asbjörnsen and Moe in Norske Folkeeventyr, 1843, and, if I remember correctly, it can also be found in Grimm.
The riddle-rhyme of "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall" is, in one form or other, a favorite throughout Europe. A curious Danish version is given by Thiele, iii. 148:
The riddle-rhyme of "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall" is, in one way or another, a favorite across Europe. A fascinating Danish version is provided by Thiele, iii. 148:
Little TrilleLaying on the shelf;Little TrilleFell off the shelf.No manIn the whole landCan cure Little Trille.
Which may be thus translated:
Which can be translated as:
Little TrilleWas lying on a shelf:Little TrilleThen jumped down himself:Not all the menIn our land, I know,Can fix Little Trille again.
And Mr. Stephens has preserved two copies in his MS. Swedish collections. The first is from the province of Upland:
And Mr. Stephens has kept two copies in his MS. Swedish collections. The first is from the province of Upland:
Thille LilleSat on the rooftop;Thille LilleFell down flat;No doctor in the whole worldCan heal Thille Lille, I bet.Thille LilleOn the roof sat;Thille LilleDown fell flat;Not a single doctor that you can findCan heal Thille Lille, I’m sure.
Another from the province of Småland:
Another from the region of Småland:
Little BulleStruggling to get by;No man in this landCan help Little Bulle.Down at the shedLittle Bulle rolled;Not a single man in this landCan help Little Bulle.
It will now only be necessary to refer to the similarities pointed out in other parts of this work, to convince the reader that, at all events, a very fair case is made out for the truth of the positions we have contended for, if, indeed, sufficient evidence of their absolute truth is not adduced. They who are accustomed to researches of this kind, are too well aware of the facility with which the most plausible theories are frequently nullified by subsequent discovery; but there appears in the present case to be numerous conditions insoluble by any other supposition than that of a common origin, and we are therefore fully justified in adopting it as proved.
It’s now only necessary to refer to the similarities noted in other parts of this work to convince the reader that, in any case, a solid argument is made for the truth of the positions we’ve argued for, even if sufficient evidence of their absolute truth isn’t provided. Those who are used to research like this know how easily the most convincing theories can be disproven by new discoveries; however, in this case, there seem to be many conditions that can only be explained by a common origin, and we are therefore completely justified in accepting it as proven.
Turning to the nursery rhymes of our own country, it will tend materially to strengthen the results to which we have arrived, if we succeed in proving their antiquity in this island. We shall be enabled to do so satisfactorily, and to show that they are not the modern nonsense some folks may pronounce them to be. They illustrate the history and manners of the people for centuries. Here, for instance, is a relic in the form of a nursery rhyme, but in reality part of a political song, referring to the rebellious times of Richard the Second. [6]
Turning to the nursery rhymes of our own country, it will greatly support our conclusions if we can prove their age in this island. We will be able to do so convincingly and show that they are not just the modern nonsense some people might think they are. They reflect the history and customs of the people for centuries. Here, for example, is a relic in the form of a nursery rhyme, but in reality, it's part of a political song, referring to the rebellious times of Richard the Second. [6]
My father passed away, I can't say how,But he left me six horses to help with the plough!With a wimmy lo! wommy lo! Jack Straw, fiery boys!Wimmy lo! wommy lo! wob, wob, wob!
| [6] | I am here, and in a few other cases, quoting from myself. It may be necessary to say so, for my former collections on this subject have been appropriated—"convey, the wise it call"—in a work by a learned Doctor, the preface to which is an amusing instance of plagiarism. |
An infant of the nineteenth century recalling our recollection to Jack Straw and his "blazey-boys!" Far better this than teaching history with notes "suited to the capacity of the youngest." Another refers to Joanna of Castile, who visited the court of Henry the Seventh in 1506:
An infant from the nineteenth century reminds us of Jack Straw and his "blazey-boys!" This is much better than teaching history with notes "suitable for the youngest." Another mention is of Joanna of Castile, who visited the court of Henry the Seventh in 1506:
I had a small nut tree, and it only producedA golden nutmeg and a silver pear;The daughter of the King of Spain came to see me,And it was all because of my little nut tree.
We have distinct evidence that the well-known rhyme, [7]
We have clear evidence that the famous rhyme, [7]
The King of France climbed the hill,With twenty thousand soldiers:The King of France descended the hill,And never went back up again—
was composed before 1588, It occurs in an old tract called Pigges Corantoe, 1642, where it is entitled "Old Tarlton's Song," referring to Tarlton the jester, who died in 1588. The following one belongs to the seventeenth century:
was composed before 1588. It appears in an old pamphlet called Pigges Corantoe, 1642, where it's titled "Old Tarlton's Song," referencing Tarlton the jester, who died in 1588. The following one is from the seventeenth century:
As I was walking past Charing Cross,I saw a black man on a black horse;They said it was King Charles the First;Oh dear, my heart was about to burst!
| [7] | An early variation occurs in MS. Sloane 1489: An early version appears in MS. Sloane 1489: The king of France, and four thousand men,
They drew their swords, and put them up again.
|
Political nursery-rhymes, or rather political rhymes of a jingling character, which, losing their original application, are preserved only in the nursery, were probably common in the seventeenth century. The two just quoted have evidently an historical application. The manuscript miscellanies of the time of James I. and Charles I. contain several copies of literal rhymes not very unlike "A, B, C, tumble-down D." In the reign of Charles II. political pasquinades constantly partook of the genuine nursery character. We may select the following example, of course put into the mouth of that sovereign, preserved in MS. Douce 357, f. 124, in the Bodleian Library:
Political nursery rhymes, or more accurately, political rhymes that have a catchy, sing-song quality, which have lost their original meaning and are now only remembered by children, were probably popular in the seventeenth century. The two examples mentioned clearly have a historical context. The manuscript collections from the time of James I. and Charles I. include several versions of simple rhymes not too different from "A, B, C, tumble-down D." During the reign of Charles II., political satire often had a true nursery rhyme feel. An example attributed to that king can be found in MS. Douce 357, f. 124, in the Bodleian Library:
See-saw, sack-a-day;Monmouth is a handsome guy,Richmond is another,Grafton is my only joy,And why should I ruin these threeTo satisfy a righteous brother?
"What is the rhyme for porringer?" was written on occasion of the marriage of Mary, the daughter of James Duke of York, afterwards James II., with the young Prince of Orange: and the following alludes to William III. and George Prince of Denmark:
"What is the rhyme for porringer?" was written to celebrate the marriage of Mary, the daughter of James Duke of York, later known as James II., to the young Prince of Orange. The following refers to William III. and George, Prince of Denmark:
William and Mary, George and Anne,No man ever had four kids like these:They drove their father away in disgrace,And gave their brother a terrible nickname.
Another nursery song on King William is not yet obsolete, but its application is not generally known. My authority is the title of it in MS. Harl. 7316:
Another nursery song about King William is still relevant, but most people aren't aware of its meaning. My source is the title of it in MS. Harl. 7316:
As I walked by myself,And talked to myself,I said to myself,Take care of yourself,Look after yourself,Because no one else cares about you.I replied to myself,And told myselfIn the same response,Take care of yourself,Or don’t take care of yourself,It will be the same either way.
To this class of rhymes I may add the following on Dr. Sacheverel, which was obtained from oral tradition:
To this type of rhymes, I can add the following about Dr. Sacheverel, which was passed down through oral tradition:
Doctor SacheverelDid really well,But Jacky DawbinGave him a heads-up.
When there are no allusions to guide us, it is only by accident that we can hope to test the history and antiquity of these kind of scraps, but we have no doubt whatever that many of them are centuries old. The following has been traced to the time of Henry VI., a singular doggerel, the joke of which consists in saying it so quickly that it cannot be told whether it is English or gibberish:
When there are no references to help us, we can only hope to accidentally evaluate the history and age of these kinds of scraps, but we are completely certain that many of them are centuries old. The following piece has been traced back to the time of Henry VI, a unique bit of doggerel, where the humor lies in saying it so fast that it’s hard to tell if it’s English or nonsense:
In fir trees,In oak trees, there are none,In mud, there’s an eel,In clay, there are none,Goats eat ivy,Mares eat oats.
"Multiplication is vexation," a painful reality to schoolboys, was found a few years ago in a manuscript dated 1570; and the memorial lines, "Thirty days hath September," occur in the Return from Parnassus, an old play printed in 1606. Our own reminiscences of such matters, and those of Shakespeare, may thus have been identical! "To market, to market, to buy a plum-bun," is partially quoted in Florio's New World of Words, 1611, in v. 'Abómba.' The old song of the "Carrion Crow sat on an Oak," was discovered by me in MS. Sloane 1489, of the time of Charles I., but under a different form:
"Multiplication is a hassle," a painful reality for schoolboys, was found a few years ago in a manuscript dated 1570; and the well-known lines, "Thirty days has September," appear in the Return from Parnassus, an old play printed in 1606. Our own memories of these things, and those of Shakespeare, may have been the same! "To market, to market, to buy a plum bun," is partially quoted in Florio's New World of Words, 1611, in v. 'Abómba.' The old song "Carrion Crow sat on an Oak," was discovered by me in MS. Sloane 1489, from the time of Charles I., but in a different form:
Hey, look, the carrion crow,Because I shot something too low:I've completely missed my target,And shot the poor sow in the heart;Wife, bring some treacle in a spoon,Or else the poor sow's heart will fail.
"Sing a song of sixpence" is quoted by Beaumont and Fletcher. "Buz, quoth the blue fly," which is printed in the nursery halfpenny books, belongs to Ben Jonson's Masque of Oberon; the old ditty of "Three Blind Mice" is found in the curious music book entitled Deuteromelia, or the Second Part of Musicke's Melodie, 1609; and the song, "When I was a little girl, I wash'd my mammy's dishes," is given by Aubrey in MS. Lansd. 231. "A swarm of bees in May," is quoted by Miege, 1687. And so on of others, fragments of old catches and popular songs being constantly traced in the apparently unmeaning rhymes of the nursery.
"Sing a song of sixpence" is cited by Beaumont and Fletcher. "Buz, said the blue fly," which is found in the nursery halfpenny books, comes from Ben Jonson's Masque of Oberon; the old song "Three Blind Mice" appears in the interesting music book Deuteromelia, or the Second Part of Musicke's Melodie, 1609; and the song, "When I was a little girl, I washed my mom's dishes," is noted by Aubrey in MS. Lansd. 231. "A swarm of bees in May" is quoted by Miege, 1687. And so on with others, fragments of old catches and popular songs are constantly being found in the seemingly nonsensical rhymes of the nursery.
Most of us have heard in time past the school address to a story-teller:
Most of us have heard in the past the school address to a storyteller:
Liar, liar, eat dirt,Turn the candlestick around.
Not very important lines, one would imagine, but they explain a passage in Chettle's play of the Tragedy of Hoffman, or a Revenge for a Father, 4to. Lond, 1631, which would be partially inexplicable without such assistance:
Not very important lines, one might think, but they clarify a section in Chettle's play "The Tragedy of Hoffman, or a Revenge for a Father," 4to. Lond, 1631, which would be somewhat hard to understand without this help:
Lor. By heaven! It looks like he did, but it was all in vain;The hard rocks had cut into his soft skull,And the rough water washed away his brain.Luc. Liar, liar, lick dish!
The intention of the last speaker is sufficiently intelligible, but a future editor, anxious to investigate his author minutely, might search in vain for an explanation of licke dish. Another instance [8] of the antiquity of children's rhymes I met with lately at Stratford-on-Avon, in a MS. of the seventeenth century, in the collection of the late Captain James Saunders, where, amongst common-place memoranda on more serious subjects, written about the year 1630, occurred a version of one of our most favorite nursery songs:
The last speaker's intent is pretty clear, but a future editor, eager to dive deep into the author's work, might find themselves searching in vain for an explanation of licke dish. Recently, I came across another example [8] of the long history of children's rhymes at Stratford-on-Avon, in a seventeenth-century manuscript from the collection of the late Captain James Saunders. Among some ordinary notes on more serious topics, written around 1630, was a version of one of our most beloved nursery songs:
I had a little beautiful horse,His name was Dapple Gray;And he would take me to a pubA mile off my path.
| [8] | A dance called Hey, diddle, diddle, is mentioned in the play of King Cambises, written about 1561, and the several rhymes commencing with the words may have been original adaptations to that dance-tune. |
"Three children sliding on the ice" is founded on a metrical tale published at the end of a translation of Ovid de Arte Amandi, 1662. [9] The lines,
"Three children sliding on the ice" is based on a rhythmic story published at the end of a translation of Ovid's Art of Love, 1662. [9] The lines,
There was an old womanWho lived under a hill,And if she isn't gone,She lives there still—
form part of an old catch, printed in the Academy of Complements, ed. 1714, p. 108. The same volume (p. 140) contains the original words to another catch, which has been corrupted in its passage to the nursery:
form part of an old catch, printed in the Academy of Complements, ed. 1714, p. 108. The same volume (p. 140) contains the original words to another catch, which has been changed in its journey to the nursery:
There was an old man who had three sons,Had three sons, had three sons;There was an old man who had three sons,Jeffery, James, and Jack.Jeffery was hanged and James drowned,And Jack was lost so he couldn't be found,And the old man fainted,Because he needed a drink!
| [9] | See the whole poem in my Nursery Rhymes of England, ed. 1842, p. 19. |
It is not improbable that Shakespeare, who has alluded so much and so intricately to the vernacular rural literature of his day, has more notices of nursery-rhymes and tales than research has hitherto elicited. I am only acquainted with one reference to the former, "Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill," which is quoted by Edgar in King Lear, iii. 4, and is found in Gammer Gurton's Garland, and in most modern collections of English nursery-rhymes. The secret meaning is not very delicate, nor is it necessary to enter into any explanation on the subject. It may, however, be worthy of remark, that the term pillicock is found in a manuscript (Harl. 913) in the British Museum of the thirteenth century.
It’s quite possible that Shakespeare, who referenced the local rural literature of his time so much and in such detail, has more mentions of nursery rhymes and stories than researchers have discovered so far. I'm only aware of one mention of the first, "Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill," which Edgar quotes in King Lear, iii. 4. It's also found in Gammer Gurton's Garland and in most modern collections of English nursery rhymes. The hidden meaning isn’t very subtle, and there’s no need to explain it further. However, it’s worth noting that the term pillicock appears in a thirteenth-century manuscript (Harl. 913) at the British Museum.
English children accompanied their amusements with trivial verses from a very early period, but as it is only by accident that any allusions to them have been made, it is difficult to sustain the fact by many examples. The Nomenclator or Remembrancer of Adrianus Junius, translated by Higins, and edited by Fleming, 8vo. 1585, contains a few notices of this kind; p. 298, "βασιλινδα, the playe called one penie, one penie, come after me; χυτρινδα, the play called selling of peares, or how many plums for a penie; p. 299, χοινοφιλινδα, a kinde of playe called
English children have been pairing their games with silly rhymes since a long time ago, but since references to them come up only by chance, it's hard to back up this fact with many examples. The Nomenclator or Remembrancer by Adrianus Junius, translated by Higins and edited by Fleming, 8vo. 1585, includes a few mentions of this; p. 298, "βασιλινδα, the game called one penny, one penny, come after me; χυτρινδα, the game called selling of pears, or how many plums for a penny; p. 299, χοινοφιλινδα, a type of game called
Clout, clout, To bear around,
or my hen hath layd; ιποστρακισμος, a kind of sport or play with an oister shell or a stone throwne into the water, and making circles yer it sinke, &c.; it is called,
or my hen has laid; ιποστρακισμος, a type of game or activity involving an oyster shell or a stone thrown into the water, creating circles until it sinks, etc.; it is called,
A duck and a drake,And a half penny cake."
This last notice is particularly curious, for similar verses are used by boys at the present day at the game of water-skimming. The amusement itself is very ancient, and a description of it may be seen in Minucius Felix, Lugd. Bat. 1652, p. 3. There cannot be a doubt but that many of the inexplicable nonsense-rhymes of our nursery belonged to antique recreations, but it is very seldom their original application can be recovered. The well-known doggerel respecting the tailor of Bicester may be mentioned as a remarkable instance of this, for it is one of the most common nursery-rhymes of the present day, and Aubrey, MS. Lansd. 231, writing in the latter part of the seventeenth century, preserved it as part of the formula of a game called leap-candle. "The young girls in and about Oxford have a sport called Leap-Candle, for which they set a candle in the middle of the room in a candlestick, and then draw up their coats into the form of breaches, and dance over the candle back and forth, with these words:
This last note is especially interesting because similar rhymes are still used by kids today while playing a game called water-skimming. This pastime is quite old, and you can find a description of it in Minucius Felix, Lugd. Bat. 1652, p. 3. There’s no doubt that many of the puzzling nonsense rhymes we have in our nursery today are remnants of ancient games, but it’s rare to uncover their original use. A well-known nursery rhyme about the tailor of Bicester serves as a great example of this, as it remains one of the most popular nursery rhymes today. Aubrey, MS. Lansd. 231, who wrote in the late seventeenth century, noted it as part of a game called leap-candle. "The young girls in and around Oxford have a game called Leap-Candle, where they place a candle in a candlestick in the center of the room, then hike up their skirts to form breeches and jump back and forth over the candle, saying these words:
The tailor from Biciter,He has just one eye,He can't cut a pair of green trousers,Even if he were to die.
This sport in other parts is called Dancing the Candle Rush." It may be necessary to observe that galagaskins were wide loose trousers.
This sport in other parts is called Dancing the Candle Rush. It may be necessary to note that galagaskins were wide, loose pants.
The rhyme of Jack Horner has been stated to be a satire on the Puritanical aversion to Christmas pies and suchlike abominations. It forms part of a metrical chap-book history, founded on the same story as the Friar and the Boy, entitled "The Pleasant History of Jack Horner, containing his witty tricks, and pleasant pranks, which he played from his youth to his riper years: right pleasant and delightful for winter and summer's recreation," embellished with frightful woodcuts, which have not much connexion with the tale. The pleasant history commences as follows:
The rhyme of Jack Horner is said to be a satire on the Puritan dislike for Christmas pies and other such things. It is part of a metrical chapbook story based on the same tale as The Friar and the Boy, titled "The Pleasant History of Jack Horner, containing his witty tricks and fun pranks, which he played from his youth to his older years: truly enjoyable for winter and summer entertainment," adorned with scary woodcuts that don't really relate to the story. The pleasant history begins as follows:
Jack Horner was a handsome young boy,Living near London,He made his father very happy,His mother loved him a lot.While little Jack was sweet and young,If he happened to cry,His mother sang lovely lullabies,With a lul-la-ba-by,With such a charming, playful tone,As Jack sat on her lap,So that, before he could walk alone,He sang just as well as she did.A sweet boy with clever wit,Everyone praised him,And he would sit in the cornerDuring Christmas holidays.When friends got together,To pass the time—Little Jack would definitely eatHis Christmas pie in rhyme.And said, Jack Horner, in the corner,Eats a tasty Christmas pie,And with his thumbs pulls out the plums,And says, I'm a good boy!
Here we have an important discovery! Who before suspected that the nursery-rhyme was written by Jack Horner himself?
Here we have an important discovery! Who would have thought that the nursery rhyme was written by Jack Horner himself?
Few children's rhymes are more common than those relating to Jack Sprat and his wife, "Jack Sprat could eat no fat," &c.; but it is little thought they have been current for two centuries. Such, however, is the fact, and when Howell published his collection of Proverbs in 1659, p. 20, the story related to no less exalted a personage than an archdeacon:
Few children's rhymes are more well-known than those about Jack Sprat and his wife, "Jack Sprat could eat no fat," etc.; but it's not widely recognized that they have been around for two centuries. This is true, and when Howell published his collection of Proverbs in 1659, p. 20, the story was about no less a figure than an archdeacon:
Archdeacon Pratt wouldn’t eat any fat,His wife wouldn’t eat any lean;Between Archdeacon Pratt and his wife Joan,The meat was eaten completely.
On the same page of this collection we find the commencement of the rigmarole, "A man of words and not of deeds," which in the next century was converted into a burlesque song on the battle of Culloden! [10]
On the same page of this collection, we see the beginning of the phrase, "A man of words and not of deeds," which was later turned into a humorous song about the battle of Culloden in the next century! [10]
Double Dee Double Day,Plant a garden full of seeds;When the seeds start to grow,It's like a garden covered in snow.When the snow starts to melt,Like a ship without a belt.When the ship begins to sail,Like a bird without a tail.When the bird starts to fly,Like an eagle in the sky.When the sky begins to roar,Like a lion at the door.When the door starts to crack,Like a stick laid across my back.When my back starts to ache,Like a penknife in my heart.When my heart starts to bleed,Like a needle full of thread.When the thread begins to decay,Like a turnip in the pot.When the pot starts to boil,Like a bottle full of oil.When the oil starts to settle,Like our Geordies in a fierce battle.
| [10] | The following nursery game, played by two girls, one personating the mistress and the other a servant was obtained from Yorkshire, and may be interpreted as a dialogue between a lady and her Jacobite maid: The following nursery game, played by two girls, with one acting as the mistress and the other as a servant, was collected from Yorkshire and can be seen as a conversation between a lady and her Jacobite maid: Lady. Jenny, come here! So I hear you have been to see that man.
Maid. What man, madam?
Lady. Why, the handsome man.
Maid. Why, madam, as I was a-passing by,
Thinking no harm, no not in the least, not I,
I did go in,
But had no ill intention in the thing,
For, as folks say, a cat may look at a king.
Lady. A king do you call him? You rebellious slut!
Maid. I did not call him so, dear lady, but—
Lady. But me none of your buttings, for not another day
Shall any rebel in my service stay;
I owe you twenty shillings—there's a guinea!
Go, pack your clothes, and get about your business, Jenny.
|
The earliest copy of the saying, "A man of words and not of deeds," I have hitherto met with, occurs in MS. Harl. 1927, of the time of James I. Another version, written towards the close of the seventeenth century, but unfitted for publication, is preserved on the last leaf of MS. Harl. 6580.
The earliest version of the saying, "A man of words and not of deeds," that I've come across so far is found in MS. Harl. 1927, from the time of James I. Another version, written near the end of the seventeenth century but not suitable for publication, is kept on the last page of MS. Harl. 6580.
Many of the metrical nonsense-riddles of the nursery are of considerable antiquity. A collection of conundrums formed early in the seventeenth century by Randle Holmes, the Chester antiquary, and now preserved in MS. Harl. 1962, contains several which have been traditionally remembered up to the present day. Thus we find versions of "Little Nancy Etticoat in a white petticoat," "Two legs sat upon three legs," "As round as an apple," and others. [11]
Many of the silly rhymes we find in nursery songs are actually quite old. A collection of riddles put together in the early 1600s by Randle Holmes, the Chester historian, and now kept in MS. Harl. 1962, includes several that have been remembered through the ages. For example, we see versions of "Little Nancy Etticoat in a white petticoat," "Two legs sat upon three legs," "As round as an apple," and more. [11]
| [11] | A vast number of these kind of rhymes have become obsolete, and old manuscripts contain many not very intelligible. Take the following as a specimen: A lot of these types of rhymes have become outdated, and old manuscripts include many that are not very clear. Here's an example: Ruste duste tarbotell, Bagpipelorum hybattell.——MS. Harl. 7332, xvij. cent. Ruste duste tarbotell, Bagpipelorum hybattell.——MS. Harl. 7332, xvij. cent. |
During the latter portion of the seventeenth century numerous songs and games were introduced which were long remembered in the English nursery. "Questions and Commands" was a common game, played under various systems of representation. One boy would enact king, and the subjects would give burlesque answers, e. g.:
During the late seventeenth century, many songs and games were introduced that were long remembered in English nurseries. "Questions and Commands" was a popular game played in different ways. One boy would pretend to be the king, and the other kids would give funny answers, for example:
K. I am the King!S. I’m here to serve you.K. What will you do for me?S. I'll do my best and my worst, and everything I can!
A clever writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1738, says this was played during the Commonwealth in ridicule of sovereignty! He humorously adds, continually quoting games then current: "During all Oliver's time, the chief diversion was, 'The parson hath lost his fuddling-cap,' which needs no explanation. At the Restoration succeeded love-games, as 'I love my love with an A,' a 'Flower and a lady,' and 'I am a lusty wooer;' changed in the latter end of this reign, as well as all King James II.'s, to 'I am come to torment you.' At the Revolution, when all people recovered their liberty, the children played promiscuously at what game they liked best. The most favorite one, however, was 'Puss in the corner.'" The same writer also mentions the game of "I am a Spanish merchant."
A witty writer in the Gentleman's Magazine from 1738 says this was played during the Commonwealth to mock sovereignty! He jokingly adds, continuously referencing popular games of the time: "Throughout Oliver's rule, the main pastime was 'The parson has lost his fuddling-cap,' which doesn’t need any explanation. When the Restoration happened, love games took over, like 'I love my love with an A,' 'A Flower and a lady,' and 'I am a lusty wooer;' which later in this reign, as well as during all of King James II's, turned into 'I have come to torment you.' At the Revolution, when everyone regained their freedom, kids played whatever game they liked best. However, the most popular one was 'Puss in the corner.'" The same writer also mentions the game "I am a Spanish merchant."
The following nursery-rhyme is quoted in Parkin's Reply to Dr. Stukeley's second number of the Origines Roystonianæ, 4to. 1748, p. 6, but I am not aware that it is still current:—
The following nursery rhyme is quoted in Parkin's Reply to Dr. Stukeley's second volume of the Origines Roystonianæ, 4to. 1748, p. 6, but I'm not sure if it's still popular today:—
Peter White never seems to do things right,And do you want to know the reason why?He follows his instincts wherever he goes,And that's all messed up.
The tale of "Old Mother Hubbard" is undoubtedly of some antiquity, were we merely to judge of the rhyme of laughing to coffin in the third verse. [12] "There was an old woman toss'd up in a blanket" is supposed to be the original song of "Lilliburlero, or Old Woman, whither so high?" the tune to which was published in 1678. [13] "Come, drink old ale with me," a nursery catch, with an improper meaning now lost, is found in MS. Harl. 7332, of the seventeenth century. "Round about, round about, magotty-pie," is probably as old, magot-pie being an obsolete term for a magpie. For a similar reason, the antiquity of "Here am I, little Jumping Joan," may be inferred. Jumping Joan was the Cant term for a lady of little reputation. [14] The well-known riddle, "As I was going to St. Ives," occurs in MS. Harl. 7316, of the early part of the last century; and the following extract from Poor Robin's Almanack for 1693, may furnish us with the original of the celebrated ballad on Tom of Islington, though the latter buried his troublesome wife on Sunday: "How one saw a lady on the Saturday, married her on the Sunday, she was brought to bed on the Monday, the child christened on the Tuesday, it died on the Wednesday, was buried on the Thursday, the bride's portion was paid on the Friday, and the bridegroom ran clear away on the Saturday!"
The story of "Old Mother Hubbard" is definitely quite old, especially if we just look at the rhyme of laughing to coffin in the third verse. [12] "There was an old woman tossed up in a blanket" is believed to be the original song of "Lilliburlero, or Old Woman, whither so high?" the tune of which was published in 1678. [13] "Come, drink old ale with me," a nursery rhyme with a meaning that’s now forgotten, appears in MS. Harl. 7332 from the seventeenth century. "Round about, round about, magotty-pie," is probably just as old, with magot-pie being an outdated term for a magpie. For a similar reason, we can guess that "Here am I, little Jumping Joan," is also ancient. Jumping Joan was slang for a woman of questionable reputation. [14] The well-known riddle, "As I was going to St. Ives," is found in MS. Harl. 7316 from the early part of the last century; and the following excerpt from Poor Robin's Almanack for 1693 may give us the origin of the famous ballad about Tom of Islington, even though he buried his troublesome wife on a Sunday: "How one saw a lady on the Saturday, married her on the Sunday, she was brought to bed on the Monday, the child christened on the Tuesday, it died on the Wednesday, was buried on the Thursday, the bride's portion was paid on the Friday, and the bridegroom ran away on the Saturday!"
| [12] | The first three verses are all the original. The rest is modern, and was added when Mother Hubbard was the first of a series of eighteen-penny books published by Harris. |
| [13] | Chappell's National Airs, p. 89. |
| [14] | Beaumont and Fletcher, ed. Dyce, viii. 176. The tune of Jumping Joan is mentioned in MS. Harl. 7316, p. 67. |
The antiquity of a rhyme is not unfrequently determined by the use of an obsolete expression. Thus it may be safely concluded that the common nursery address to the white moth is no modern composition, from the use of the term dustipoll, a very old nickname for a miller, which has long fallen into disuse:
The age of a rhyme is often decided by the use of an outdated term. So, it’s reasonable to conclude that the familiar nursery rhyme about the white moth is not a new creation, due to the use of the word dustipoll, an old nickname for a miller that has been out of use for quite some time.
Miller, miller, dust poll,How many sacks have you stolen?Twenty-four and a peck:Hang the miller by his neck!
The expression is used by Robin Goodfellow in the old play of Grim, the Collier of Croydon, first printed in 1662, but written considerably before that period:
The phrase is used by Robin Goodfellow in the old play of Grim, the Collier of Croydon, first published in 1662, but written long before that time:
Hey, miller, miller, troublemaker,I'm going to mess up your nonsense! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
| [15] | "Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of Canterbury," must be a very ancient song, as it mentions chopines, or high cork shoes, and appears, from another passage, to have been written before the invention of bell-pulls. The obsolete term delve, to dig, exhibits the antiquity of the rhyme "One, two, buckle my shoe." Minikin occurs in a rhyme printed in the Nursery Rhymes of England, p. 145; coif, ibid. p. 150; snaps, small fragments, ibid. p. 190; moppet, a little pet, ibid. p. 193, &c. |
A very curious ballad, written about the year 1720, in the possession of Mr. Crofton Croker, establishes the antiquity of the rhymes of "Jack-a-Dandy," "Boys and girls come out to play," "Tom Tidler's on the Friar's ground," "London bridge is broken down," "Who comes here, a grenadier," and "See, saw, sacradown," besides mentioning others we have before alluded to. The ballad is entitled, "Namby Pamby, or a Panegyric on the New Versification, addressed to A. F., Esq."
A very interesting ballad, written around 1720 and owned by Mr. Crofton Croker, shows the old origins of the rhymes "Jack-a-Dandy," "Boys and girls, come out to play," "Tom Tidler's on the Friar's ground," "London Bridge is broken down," "Who comes here, a grenadier," and "See, saw, sacradown," along with other rhymes we've mentioned before. The ballad is titled "Namby Pamby, or a Panegyric on the New Versification, addressed to A. F., Esq."
Nanty Panty, Jack-a-Dandy,Took a piece of sugar candy,From the grocer's little shop,And off he went with a hop.
In the course of the ballad, the writer thus introduces the titles of the nursery rhymes,—
In the course of the ballad, the writer introduces the titles of the nursery rhymes,—
Namby Pamby's so gentle,Once a man, now acts like a child;With his floppy sleeves restored,Now he carries on like a lord;Now he gathers his little thoughtsBit by bit, as he ought.Now, I think I hear him say,Kids, come out to play,The moon shines as bright as day:Now my Namby Pamby's __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ foundSitting on the Friar's ground,Picking silver, picking gold,—Namby Pamby's never old:Bally-cally, they start to sing,Namby Pamby is still in swing.Namby Pamby isn’t a fool—London Bridge has fallen down;Now he courts the lovely lady,Dancing over Lady Lee:Now he sings about Lickspit Liar,Burning in the brimstone fire;Liar, liar, Lickspit, lick,Turn the candlestick quick.Now he sings of Jacky Horner,Sitting in the chimney corner,Eating a Christmas pie,Putting in his thumb, oh no!Putting in, oh no, his thumb,Pulling out, oh how strange, a plum!Now he acts like a grenadier,Calling for a pot of beer:Where's his money? He's forgot—Get him away, a drunken sot!Now on a wooden horse he rides,And then on timber he strides,Saw and saw, and sack'ry down,London is a grand town!
| [16] | Namby Pamby is said to have been a nickname for Ambrose Phillips. Another ballad, written about the same time as the above, alludes to the rhyme of "Goosy Goosy, Gander." |
This ballad is a very important illustration of the history of these puerile rhymes, for it establishes the fact that some we might aptly consider modern are at least more than a century old; and who would have thought such nonsense as,
This ballad is a crucial example of the history of these childish rhymes, as it shows that some we might think of as modern are actually over a century old; and who would have thought such nonsense as,
Who’s there?A grenadier!What do you need?A pint of beer!Where's your cash?I forgot!Leave now,You drunken fool!
could have descended in all its purity for several generations, even although it really may have a deep meaning and an unexceptionable moral?
could have come down in all its purity for several generations, even though it might actually have a deep meaning and an undeniable moral?
Having thus, I trust, shown that the nursery has an archæology, the study of which may eventually lead to important results, the jingles and songs of our childhood are defended from the imputation of exclusive frivolity. We may hope that, henceforth, those who have the opportunity will not consider it a derogatory task to add to these memorials. But they must hasten to the rescue. The antiquities of the people are rapidly disappearing before the spread of education; and before many years have elapsed, they will be lost, or recorded only in the collections of the antiquary, perhaps requiring evidence that they ever existed. This is the latest period at which there is a chance of our arresting their disappearance. If, unfortunately, the most valuable relics of this kind are wholly lost, many, doubtlessly, remain in the remote districts sufficiently curious to reward the collector; and it is to be hoped they will not be allowed to share the fate of Wade and his boat Guingelot.
Having shown, I hope, that childhood songs and rhymes have a history worth studying, these jingles are not just seen as silly. We can hope that moving forward, those who can will not see it as beneath them to add to these memories. But they need to act quickly. The old traditions of the people are quickly fading away as education spreads; in a few years, they may be lost or only remembered in the collections of historians, possibly needing proof of their existence. This is the last chance we have to stop their disappearance. If the most valuable pieces are completely lost, there are still many curious ones left in remote areas that could be rewarding for collectors; and hopefully, they will not be forgotten like Wade and his boat Guingelot.
II.—FIRESIDE NURSERY STORIES.
- TEENY-TINY.
- THE STORY OF MR. VINEGAR.
- THE STORY OF CHICKEN-LICKEN.
- THE MISER AND HIS WIFE.
- THE THREE QUESTIONS.
- THE CAT AND THE MOUSE.
- THE PRINCESS OF CANTERBURY.
- LAZY JACK.
- THE THREE HEADS OF THE WELL.
- THE MAIDEN AND THE FROG.
- THE STORY OF MR. FOX.
- THE OXFORD STUDENT.
- JACK HORNBY.
- MALLY DIXON AND KNURRE-MURRE.
- THE BULL OF NORROWAY.
- PUSS IN BOOTS.
- JACK AND THE GIANTS.
- TOM HICKATHRIFT.
- TOM THUMB.
The efforts of modern romance are so greatly superior to the best fictions of a former age, that old wives' tales are not so readily tolerated as they were in times past. We question whether any one in these days, save a very grave antiquary, could read two chapters of the Morte Arthure without a yawn. Let us, then, turn to that simpler class of narratives which bears the same relation to novels that rural ballads do to the poem; and ascertain whether the wild interest which, in the primitive tales erewhile taught by nurse, first awakened our imagination, can be so reflected as to render their resuscitation agreeable. We rely a good deal for the success of the experiment on the power of association; for though these inventions may, in their character, be suited to the dawn of intellect, they not infrequently bear the impress of creative fancy, and their imperceptible influence over the mind does not always evaporate at a later age.
The efforts of modern romance are far better than the best stories from the past, so people are less willing to tolerate old wives' tales than they used to be. We wonder if anyone today, except for a very serious historian, could read two chapters of the Morte Arthure without getting bored. So, let’s turn to that simpler type of story that relates to novels in the same way that rural ballads relate to poetry, and see if the wild interest which, in the old tales once told by a nurse, first sparked our imagination can be reflected in a way that makes their revival enjoyable. We rely a lot on the power of association for the success of this experiment; because although these creations might suit the beginning of intellect, they often carry the mark of creative imagination, and their subtle influence on the mind doesn’t always fade away as we grow older.
Few persons, indeed, there are, even amongst those who affect to be insignificantly touched by the imagination, who can be recalled to the stories and carols that charmed them in their childhood wholly without emotion. An affectation of indifference in such matters is, of course, not unusual, for most thoughts springing from early associations, and those on which so many minds love to dwell, may not be indiscriminately divulged. It is impossible they should be generally appreciated or understood. Most of us, however, are liable to be occasionally touched by allusions breathing of happy days, bearing our memories downward to behold the shadows of joys that have long passed away like a dream. They now serve only "to mellow our occasions," like that "old and antique song" which relieved the passion of the Duke Orsino.
Few people, even among those who pretend to be unaffected by imagination, can think back to the stories and songs that captivated them as children without feeling something. It's common to act indifferent about these things, as most thoughts rooted in early memories—and those that many enjoy reflecting on—aren't freely shared. It's unlikely they would be widely appreciated or understood. However, many of us can still be momentarily moved by references that evoke happy times, sending our minds back to see the remnants of joys that have faded like a dream. They now only serve "to mellow our occasions," like that "old and antique song" which soothed Duke Orsino's passions.
TEENY-TINY.
[This simple story always captivates children's attention, especially when told well. The last two words should be said loudly and with enthusiasm. It comes from oral tradition and hasn't, to my knowledge, been published.]
Once upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way, she came to a teeny-tiny gate; so the teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny churchyard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self, "This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper." So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house.
Once upon a time, there was a tiny woman who lived in a tiny house in a tiny village. One day, this tiny woman put on her tiny bonnet and stepped out of her tiny house to take a tiny walk. After walking a short distance, she came to a tiny gate; so the tiny woman opened the tiny gate and entered a tiny churchyard. Once she got into the tiny churchyard, she saw a tiny bone on a tiny grave, and the tiny woman said to herself, "This tiny bone will make me some tiny soup for my tiny supper." So the tiny woman put the tiny bone into her tiny pocket and headed home to her tiny house.
Now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house, she was a teeny-tiny tired; so she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said, "Give me my bone!" And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes, and went to sleep again. And when she had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder, "Give me my bone!" This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard said again a teeny-tiny louder, "Give me my bone!" And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice, "Take it!"
Now when the tiny woman got home to her tiny house, she was a little tired; so she went up her tiny stairs to her tiny bed and put the tiny bone into a tiny cupboard. And when this tiny woman had been asleep for a little while, she was awakened by a tiny voice from the tiny cupboard, which said, "Give me my bone!" This tiny woman was a bit frightened, so she hid her tiny head under the tiny covers and went back to sleep. After she had been asleep again for a little while, the tiny voice cried out from the tiny cupboard a bit louder, "Give me my bone!" This made the tiny woman even more scared, so she hid her tiny head a bit further under the tiny covers. And when the tiny woman had been asleep once more for a little while, the tiny voice from the tiny cupboard said again, a bit louder, "Give me my bone!" This tiny woman was a little more frightened, but she pulled her tiny head out of the tiny covers and said in her loudest tiny voice, "Take it!"
THE STORY OF MR. VINEGAR.
[This story comes from oral tradition in the West of England. It is certainly a version of the "Hans im Glück" from the Brothers Grimm, which is popular in Germany.]
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. Now one day, when Mr. Vinegar was from home, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a very good housewife, was busily sweeping her house, when an unlucky thump of the broom brought the whole house clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter, about her ears. In a paroxysm of grief she rushed forth to meet her husband. On seeing him she exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we are ruined, we are ruined: I have knocked the house down, and it is all to pieces!" Mr. Vinegar then said, "My dear, let us see what can be done. Here is the door; I will take it on my back, and we will go forth to seek our fortune." They walked all that day, and at nightfall entered a thick forest. They were both excessively tired, and Mr. Vinegar said, "My love, I will climb up into a tree, drag up the door, and you shall follow." He accordingly did so, and they both stretched their weary limbs on the door, and fell fast asleep. In the middle of the night Mr. Vinegar was disturbed by the sound of voices beneath, and to his inexpressible dismay perceived that a party of thieves were met to divide their booty. "Here, Jack," said one, "here's five pounds for you; here, Bill, here's ten pounds for you; here, Bob, here's three pounds for you." Mr. Vinegar could listen no longer; his terror was so intense that he trembled most violently, and shook down the door on their heads. Away scampered the thieves, but Mr. Vinegar dared not quit his retreat till broad daylight. He then scrambled out of the tree, and went to lift up the door. What did he behold but a number of golden guineas! "Come down, Mrs. Vinegar," he cried, "come down, I say; our fortune's made, our fortune's made! come down, I say." Mrs. Vinegar got down as fast as she could, and saw the money with equal delight. "Now, my dear," said she, "I'll tell you what you shall do. There is a fair at the neighbouring town; you shall take these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very comfortably." Mr. Vinegar joyfully assents, takes the money, and goes off to the fair. When he arrived, he walked up and down, and at length saw a beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every respect. Oh! thought Mr. Vinegar, if I had but that cow I should be the happiest man alive; so he offers the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner declaring that, as he was a friend, he'd oblige him, the bargain was made. Proud of his purchase, he drove the cow backwards and forwards to show it. By-and-by he saw a man playing the bagpipes, Tweedle dum, tweedle dee; the children followed him about, and he appeared to be pocketing money on all sides. Well, thought Mr. Vinegar, if I had but that beautiful instrument I should be the happiest man alive—my fortune would be made. So he went up to the man, "Friend," says he, "what a beautiful instrument that is, and what a deal of money you must make." "Why, yes," said the man, "I make a great deal of money, to be sure, and it is a wonderful instrument." "Oh!" cried Mr. Vinegar, "how I should like to possess it!" "Well," said the man, "as you are a friend, I don't much mind parting with it; you shall have it for that red cow." "Done," said the delighted Mr. Vinegar; so the beautiful red cow was given for the bagpipes. He walked up and down with his purchase, but in vain he attempted to play a tune, and instead of pocketing pence, the boys followed him hooting, laughing, and pelting. Poor Mr. Vinegar, his fingers grew very cold, and, heartily ashamed and mortified, he was leaving the town, when he met a man with a fine thick pair of gloves. "Oh, my fingers are so very cold," said Mr. Vinegar to himself; "if I had but those beautiful gloves I should be the happiest man alive." He went up to the man, and said to him, "Friend, you seem to have a capital pair of gloves there." "Yes, truly," cried the man; "and my hands are as warm as possible this cold November day." "Well," said Mr. Vinegar, "I should like to have them." "What will you give?" said the man; "as you are a friend, I don't much mind letting you have them for those bagpipes." "Done," cried Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves, and felt perfectly happy as he trudged homewards. At last he grew very tired, when he saw a man coming towards him with a good stout stick in his hand. "Oh," said Mr. Vinegar, "that I had but that stick! I should then be the happiest man alive." He accosted the man—"Friend! what a rare good stick you have got." "Yes," said the man, "I have used it for many a long mile, and a good friend it has been, but if you have a fancy for it, as you are a friend, I don't mind giving it to you for that pair of gloves." Mr. Vinegar's hands were so warm, and his legs so tired, that he gladly exchanged. As he drew near to the wood where he had left his wife, he heard a parrot on a tree calling out his name—"Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man, you blockhead, you simpleton; you went to the fair, and laid out all your money in buying a cow; not content with that, you changed it for bagpipes, on which you could not play, and which were not worth one tenth of the money. You fool, you—you had no sooner got the bagpipes than you changed them for the gloves, which were not worth one quarter of the money; and when you had got the gloves, you changed them for a poor miserable stick; and now for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes, and gloves, you have nothing to show but that poor miserable stick, which you might have cut in any hedge." On this the bird laughed immoderately, and Mr. Vinegar, falling into a violent rage, threw the stick at its head. The stick lodged in the tree, and he returned to his wife without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she instantly gave him such a sound cudgelling that she almost broke every bone in his skin.
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. One day, while Mr. Vinegar was away, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a great housewife, was busy sweeping their home when an unfortunate thump of the broom caused the entire house to rattle around her. In a fit of despair, she ran to meet her husband. Upon seeing him, she exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we're ruined, we're ruined! I've knocked the house down, and it's in pieces!" Mr. Vinegar replied, "My dear, let's see what we can do. Here’s the door; I’ll carry it on my back, and we’ll go out to seek our fortune." They walked all day long and at dusk entered a dense forest. Both were extremely tired, and Mr. Vinegar said, "My love, I’ll climb up a tree, pull up the door, and you can follow." He did just that, and they both stretched out on the door and fell fast asleep. In the middle of the night, Mr. Vinegar was disturbed by voices below him and, to his horror, realized a group of thieves had gathered to divide their loot. "Here, Jack," said one, "here’s five pounds for you; here, Bill, here’s ten pounds for you; here, Bob, here’s three pounds for you." Mr. Vinegar couldn't take it any longer; he was so terrified that he shook violently and dropped the door on their heads. The thieves ran off, but Mr. Vinegar didn’t dare leave his hiding place until daylight. He then climbed out of the tree and went to lift the door. What did he see but a pile of golden guineas! "Come down, Mrs. Vinegar," he shouted, "come down! Our fortune's made! Our fortune's made!" Mrs. Vinegar hurried down and shared in his joy upon seeing the money. "Now, my dear," she said, "I have an idea. There’s a fair in the neighboring town; take these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which you can sell at market, and we'll be able to live comfortably." Mr. Vinegar happily agreed, took the money, and went off to the fair. When he arrived, he walked around and finally spotted a beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker and perfect in every way. Oh! Mr. Vinegar thought, if I had that cow, I'd be the happiest man alive! So he offered the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner, claiming to be a friend, agreed to the deal. Proud of his purchase, he showed off the cow. Soon, he saw a man playing the bagpipes, with children trailing after him, and he seemed to be collecting money from all sides. Well, Mr. Vinegar thought, if I had that lovely instrument, I'd be the happiest man alive—my fortune would be made! He approached the man and said, "Friend, what a beautiful instrument! You must make a lot of money." "Indeed," replied the man, "I earn quite a bit, and it’s a wonderful instrument." "Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Vinegar, "how I’d love to own it!" "Well," said the man, "since you’re a friend, I don’t mind parting with it; you can have it for that red cow." "Done," said the delighted Mr. Vinegar, and so he traded the beautiful red cow for the bagpipes. He walked around with his new instrument, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't play a tune. Instead of making money, the kids followed him, hooting, laughing, and throwing things at him. Poor Mr. Vinegar's fingers grew very cold, and feeling ashamed and humiliated, he started leaving the town when he saw a man coming towards him with a nice pair of thick gloves. "Oh, my fingers are so cold," Mr. Vinegar thought to himself; "if I just had those beautiful gloves, I’d be the happiest man alive." He went up to the man and said, "Friend, those are some great gloves you have." "Yes, indeed," replied the man, "my hands are nice and warm on this cold November day." "Well," said Mr. Vinegar, "I’d like to have them." "What will you give?" asked the man; "since you’re a friend, I’d be willing to let you have them for those bagpipes." "Done," cried Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves and felt completely happy as he walked home. Eventually, he became very tired when he spotted a man approaching him with a sturdy stick in his hand. "Oh," Mr. Vinegar said, "if I just had that stick! I’d be the happiest man alive." He approached the man and said, "Friend! What a great stick you have." "Yes," said the man, "I’ve used it for many miles, and it’s been a good friend, but if you’d like it, I wouldn’t mind giving it to you for that pair of gloves." Mr. Vinegar’s hands were warm, and his legs were tired, so he gladly made the exchange. As he got closer to the woods where he had left his wife, he heard a parrot in a tree calling out his name—"Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man, you blockhead, you simpleton! You went to the fair and spent all your money on a cow; not satisfied with that, you traded it for bagpipes that you can’t even play, which aren't worth a fraction of what you paid. You fool—you got the bagpipes and then swapped them for gloves that are worth even less, and now you've traded the gloves for a miserable stick; after all that spending for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes, and gloves, you have nothing to show except that pathetic stick that you could have cut from any hedge." The bird laughed uncontrollably, and Mr. Vinegar, in a fit of rage, threw the stick at its head. The stick got stuck in the tree, and he returned to his wife empty-handed, without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she immediately gave him such a beating that she almost broke every bone in his body.
THE STORY OF CHICKEN-LICKEN.
[A shorter and quite different version of this is provided by Mr. Chambers, p. 211.]
As Chicken-licken went one day to the wood, an acorn fell upon her poor bald pate, and she thought the sky had fallen. So she said she would go and tell the king that the sky had fallen. So chicken-licken turned back, and met Hen-len. "Well, hen-len, where are you going?" And hen-len said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." And chicken-licken said, "Oh! hen-len, don't go, for I was going, and the sky fell upon my poor bald pate, and I'm going to tell the king." So hen-len turned back with chicken-licken, and met Cock-lock. "Oh! cock-lock, where are you going?" And cock-lock said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." Then hen-len said, "Oh! cock-lock, don't go, for I was going, and I met chicken-licken, and chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king."
As Chicken Little was walking to the woods one day, an acorn fell on her poor bald head, and she thought the sky had fallen. So she decided to go tell the king that the sky had fallen. Chicken Little turned around and met Hen. “Hey, Hen, where are you going?” Hen replied, “I’m heading to the woods to get some food.” Chicken Little said, “Oh! Hen, don’t go. I was on my way, and the sky fell on my poor bald head, and I’m going to tell the king.” So Hen turned back with Chicken Little and met Rooster. “Oh! Rooster, where are you going?” Rooster said, “I’m going to the woods for some food.” Then Hen said, “Oh! Rooster, don’t go, because I was going, and I met Chicken Little, and she had been to the woods, and the sky fell on her poor bald head, and we are going to tell the king.”
So cock-lock turned back, and met Duck-luck. "Well, duck-luck, where are you going?" And duck-luck said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." Then cock-lock said, "Oh! duck-luck, don't go, for I was going, and I met hen-len, and hen-len met chicken-licken, and chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king."
So Cock-lock turned around and saw Duck-luck. "Hey, Duck-luck, where are you headed?" Duck-luck replied, "I’m off to the woods to get some food." Cock-lock said, "Oh! Duck-luck, don't go! I was just on my way, and I met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had just been to the woods where the sky fell on her poor bald head, and we’re going to tell the king."
So duck-luck turned back, and met Drake-lake. "Well, drake-lake, where are you going?" And drake-lake said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." Then duck-luck said, "Oh! drake-lake, don't go, for I was going, and I met cock-lock, and cock-lock met hen-len, and hen-len met chicken-licken, and chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king."
So Duck-Luck turned back and ran into Drake-Lake. "Hey, Drake-Lake, where are you headed?" Drake-Lake replied, "I'm going to the woods to get some food." Then Duck-Luck said, "Oh! Drake-Lake, don't go. I was on my way when I bumped into Cock-Lock, and Cock-Lock saw Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been to the woods, and the sky fell on her poor bald head, and we're going to tell the king."
So drake-lake turned back, and met Goose-loose. "Well, goose-loose, where are you going?" And goose-loose said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." Then drake-lake said, "Oh! goose-loose, don't go, for I was going, and I met duck-luck, and duck-luck met cock-lock, and cock-lock met hen-len, and hen-len met chicken-licken, and chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king."
So Drake-Lake turned around and ran into Goose-Loose. "Hey, Goose-Loose, where are you headed?" Goose-Loose replied, "I'm going into the woods to find some food." Then Drake-Lake said, "Oh! Goose-Loose, don't go. I was on my way when I bumped into Duck-Luck, and Duck-Luck ran into Cock-Lock, and Cock-Lock met Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been in the woods, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald head, and we’re going to tell the king."
So goose-loose turned back, and met Gander-lander. "Well, gander-lander, where are you going?" And gander-lander said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." Then goose-loose said, "Oh! gander-lander, don't go, for I was going, and I met drake-lake, and drake-lake met duck-luck, and duck-luck met cock-lock, and cock-lock met hen-len, and hen-len met chicken-licken, and chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king."
So Goose-loose turned back and ran into Gander-lander. "Hey, Gander-lander, where are you off to?" Gander-lander replied, "I'm heading to the woods to get some food." Then Goose-loose said, "Oh! Gander-lander, don't go, because I was on my way, and I saw Drake-lake, who saw Duck-luck, who saw Cock-lock, who saw Hen-len, who saw Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been to the woods and said that the sky fell on her poor bald head, and we're going to tell the king."
So gander-lander turned back, and met Turkey-lurkey. "Well, turkey-lurkey, where are you going?" And turkey-lurkey said, "I'm going to the wood for some meat." Then gander-lander said, "Oh! turkey-lurkey, don't go, for I was going, and I met goose-loose, and goose-loose met drake-lake, and drake-lake met duck-luck, and duck-luck met cock-lock, and cock-lock met hen-len, and hen-len met chicken-licken, and chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king."
So Gander turned back and ran into Turkey. "Hey, Turkey, where are you headed?" Turkey replied, "I'm off to the woods for some meat." Gander said, "Oh! Turkey, don't go, because I was on my way and I bumped into Goose, and Goose met Drake, and Drake met Duck, and Duck met Rooster, and Rooster met Hen, and Hen met Chicken, and Chicken had been to the woods, and the sky fell on her poor bald head, and we're going to tell the king."
So turkey-lurkey turned back, and walked with gander-lander, goose-loose, drake-lake, duck-luck, cock-lock, hen-len, and chicken-licken. And as they were going along, they met Fox-lox. And fox-lox said, "Where are you going, my pretty maids?" And they said, "Chicken-licken went to the wood, and the sky fell upon her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king." And fox-lox said, "Come along with me, and I will show you the way." But fox-lox took them into the fox's hole, and he and his young ones soon ate up poor chicken-licken, hen-len, cock-lock, duck-luck, drake-lake, goose-loose, gander-lander, and turkey-lurkey, and they never saw the king, to tell him that the sky had fallen!
So Turkey Lurkey turned back and walked with Gander Lander, Goose Loose, Drake Lake, Duck Luck, Cock Lock, Hen Len, and Chicken Licken. As they were going along, they met Fox Lox. Fox Lox said, "Where are you all going, my pretty maids?" They replied, "Chicken Licken went to the woods, and the sky fell on her poor bald head, and we are going to tell the king." Fox Lox said, "Come with me, and I’ll show you the way." But Fox Lox led them into his den, and he and his little ones quickly ate up poor Chicken Licken, Hen Len, Cock Lock, Duck Luck, Drake Lake, Goose Loose, Gander Lander, and Turkey Lurkey, and they never got to see the king to tell him that the sky had fallen!
THE MISER AND HIS WIFE.
["Let us cast away nothing," says Mr. Gifford, "for we know not what use we may have for it." So will every one admit whose reading has been sufficiently extensive to enable him to judge of the value of the simplest traditional tales. The present illustrates a passage in Ben Jonson in a very remarkable manner,—
["Let’s not throw anything away," says Mr. Gifford, "because we never know when it might be useful." Everyone who has read enough to understand the value of even the simplest traditional stories will agree with this. The current example highlights a quote from Ben Jonson in a very significant way,—
——If we get robbed,If someone comes to borrow a spoon or something;I won’t allow Good Fortune or God’s BlessingTo come in while I’m occupied.]
Once upon a time there was an old miser, who lived with his wife near a great town, and used to put by every bit of money he could lay his hands on. His wife was a simple woman, and they lived together without quarrelling, but she was obliged to put up with very hard fare. Now, sometimes, when there was a sixpence she thought might be spared for a comfortable dinner or supper, she used to ask the miser for it, but he would say, "No, wife, it must be put by for Good Fortune." It was the same with every penny he could get hold of, and notwithstanding all she could say, almost every coin that came into the house was put by "for Good Fortune."
Once upon a time, there was an old miser who lived with his wife near a big town, and he saved every bit of money he could find. His wife was a simple woman, and they lived together without fighting, but she had to deal with very poor meals. Sometimes, when there was a sixpence she thought could be spent on a nice dinner or supper, she would ask the miser for it, but he would respond, "No, wife, we need to save it for Good Fortune." It was the same with every penny he could get, and despite all her pleas, almost every coin that came into their house was saved "for Good Fortune."
The miser said this so often, that some of his neighbours heard him, and one of them thought of a trick by which he might get the money. So the first day that the old chuff was away from home, he dressed himself like a wayfaring man, and knocked at the door. "Who are you?" said the wife. He answered, "I am Good Fortune, and I am come for the money which your husband has laid by for me." So this simple woman, not suspecting any trickery, readily gave it to him, and, when her good man came home, told him very pleasantly that Good Fortune had called for the money which had been kept so long for him.
The miser said this so often that some of his neighbors overheard him, and one of them came up with a plan to get the money. So, on the first day that the old miser was away from home, he dressed up like a traveler and knocked at the door. "Who are you?" asked the wife. He replied, "I am Good Fortune, and I've come for the money your husband has saved for me." The simple woman, not suspecting any trick, happily gave it to him, and when her husband came home, she cheerfully told him that Good Fortune had come for the money that had been saved for so long.
THE THREE QUESTIONS.
There lived formerly in the county of Cumberland a nobleman who had three sons, two of whom were comely and clever youths, but the other a natural fool, named Jack, who was generally dressed in a party-coloured coat, and a steeple-crowned hat with a tassel, as became his condition. Now the King of the East Angles had a beautiful daughter, who was distinguished by her great ingenuity and wit, and he issued a decree that whoever should answer three questions put to him by the princess should have her in marriage, and be heir to the crown at his decease. Shortly after this decree was published, news of it reached the ears of the nobleman's sons, and the two clever ones determined to have a trial, but they were sadly at a loss to prevent their idiot brother from going with them. They could not, by any means, get rid of him, and were compelled at length to let Jack accompany them. They had not gone far, before Jack shrieked with laughter, saying, "I've found an egg." "Put it in your pocket," said the brothers. A little while afterwards, he burst out into another fit of laughter on finding a crooked hazel stick, which he also put in his pocket: and a third time, he again laughed extravagantly because he found a nut. That also was put with his other treasures.
Once upon a time in Cumberland County, there was a nobleman who had three sons. Two of them were handsome and smart, but the other was a natural fool named Jack. He usually wore a colorful coat and a tall hat with a tassel, which suited his status. Meanwhile, the King of East Angles had a beautiful daughter known for her great intelligence and wit. He announced that anyone who could answer three questions from the princess would win her hand in marriage and inherit the crown when he died. Soon after this announcement, the nobleman's sons heard about it, and the two clever ones decided to give it a shot. However, they struggled to figure out how to keep their foolish brother from joining them. No matter what they tried, they couldn’t shake him off and eventually had to allow Jack to come along. They hadn't gone far when Jack burst into laughter, exclaiming, "I found an egg!" "Put it in your pocket," said the brothers. A little later, he erupted into laughter again when he found a crooked hazel stick, which he also pocketed. Then, for the third time, he laughed heartily when he discovered a nut, and that too was added to his collection of treasures.
When they arrived at the palace, they were immediately admitted on mentioning the nature of their business, and were ushered into a room where the princess and her suite were sitting. Jack, who never stood on ceremony, bawled out, "What a troop of fair ladies we've got here!" "Yes," said the princess, "we are fair ladies, for we carry fire in our bosoms." "Do you," said Jack, "then roast me an egg," pulling out the egg from his pocket. "How will you get it out again?" said the princess. "With a crooked stick," replied Jack, producing the hazel. "Where did that come from?" said the princess. "From a nut," answered Jack, pulling out the nut from his pocket. And thus the "fool of the family," having been the first to answer the questions of the princess, was married to her the next day, and ultimately succeeded to the throne.
When they arrived at the palace, they were immediately let in after explaining why they were there and were shown to a room where the princess and her entourage were sitting. Jack, who never cared much for formalities, shouted, "What a group of beautiful ladies we have here!" "Yes," said the princess, "we are beautiful ladies, for we have passion in our hearts." "Do you?" said Jack, "then cook me an egg," pulling out an egg from his pocket. "How will you get it out again?" asked the princess. "With a crooked stick," Jack replied, taking out a hazel twig. "Where did that come from?" the princess asked. "From a nut," answered Jack, pulling a nut out of his pocket. And so, the "fool of the family," being the first to answer the princess's questions, got married to her the next day and eventually became king.
THE CAT AND THE MOUSE.
[This story dates back fifty years, but it's likely much older.]
The cat and the mousePlayed in the malt house:
The cat bit the mouse's tail off. Pray, puss, give me my tail. No, says the cat, I'll not give you your tail, till you go to the cow, and fetch me some milk:
The cat bit off the mouse's tail. Please, kitty, give me my tail back. No, says the cat, I won’t give you your tail until you go to the cow and get me some milk:
First she jumped, and then she sprinted,Until she reached the cow, and it all started—
Pray, Cow, give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again. No, said the cow, I will give you no milk, till you go to the farmer and get me some hay.
Pray, Cow, give me milk, so I can give it to the cat, and then the cat can help me get my tail back. No, said the cow, I won’t give you any milk until you go to the farmer and bring me some hay.
First she jumped, and then she ran,Until she reached the farmer, and so it began,—
Pray, Farmer, give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again. No, says the farmer, I'll give you no hay, till you go to the butcher and fetch me some meat.
Pray, Farmer, give me hay so I can give the cow hay, so the cow can give me milk, so I can give the cat milk, so the cat can give me back my own tail. No, says the farmer, I won't give you any hay until you go to the butcher and bring me some meat.
First she jumped, and then she sprinted,Until she reached the butcher, and that’s how it started,—
Pray, Butcher, give me meat, that I may give farmer meat, that farmer may give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again. No, says the butcher, I'll give you no meat, till you go to the baker and fetch me some bread.
Pray, Butcher, give me meat, so I can give the farmer meat, so the farmer can give me hay, so I can give the cow hay, so the cow can give me milk, so I can give the cat milk, so the cat can give me my own tail back. No, says the butcher, I won't give you any meat until you go to the baker and get me some bread.
First she jumped, and then she ran,Until she reached the baker, and that's how it started,—
Pray, Baker, give me bread, that I may give butcher bread, that butcher may give me meat, that I may give farmer meat, that farmer may give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.
Pray, Baker, give me some bread so I can give the butcher bread, so the butcher can give me meat, so I can give the farmer meat, so the farmer can give me hay, so I can give the cow hay, so the cow can give me milk, so I can give the cat milk, so the cat can give me my own tail back.
Sure, says the baker, I'll give you some bread,But if you eat my food, I'll take your head.
Then the baker gave mouse bread, and mouse gave butcher bread, and butcher gave mouse meat, and mouse gave farmer meat, and farmer gave mouse hay, and mouse gave cow hay, and cow gave mouse milk, and mouse gave cat milk, and cat gave mouse her own tail again!
Then the baker gave the mouse bread, and the mouse gave the butcher bread, and the butcher gave the mouse meat, and the mouse gave the farmer meat, and the farmer gave the mouse hay, and the mouse gave the cow hay, and the cow gave the mouse milk, and the mouse gave the cat milk, and the cat gave the mouse her own tail back!
THE PRINCESS OF CANTERBURY.
In days of yore, when this country was governed by several sovereigns, amongst them was the King of Canterbury, who had an only daughter, wise, fair, and beautiful. She was unmarried, and according to a custom not unusual in those days, of assigning an arbitrary action for the present of a lady's hand, the king issued a proclamation that whoever would watch one night with his daughter, and neither sleep nor doze, should have her the next day in marriage; but if he did either, he should lose his head. Many knights attempted to fulfil the condition, and, having failed in the attempt, forfeited their lives.
In the old days, when this country was ruled by several kings, there was the King of Canterbury, who had an only daughter—wise, lovely, and beautiful. She was unmarried, and following a common custom of the time, the king announced a challenge for anyone wanting to marry his daughter: whoever could stay awake one night with her, without sleeping or dozing off, would win her hand in marriage the next day; but if they did either, they would lose their heads. Many knights tried to meet the challenge, and when they failed, they lost their lives.
Now it happened that a young shepherd, grazing his flock near the road, said to his master, "Zur, [17] I zee many gentlemen ride to the court at Canterbury, but I ne'er zee 'em return again." "O, shepherd," said his master, "I know not how you should, for they attempt to watch with the king's daughter, according to the decree, and not performing it, they are all beheaded." "Well," said the shepherd, "I'll try my vorton; zo now vor a king's daughter, or a headless shepherd!" And taking his bottle and bag, he trudged to the court. In his way thither, he was obliged to cross a river, and pulling off his shoes and stockings, while he was passing over he observed several pretty fish bobbing against his feet; so he caught some, and put them into his pocket. When he reached the palace, he knocked at the gate loudly with his crook, and having mentioned the object of his visit, he was immediately conducted to a hall, where the king's daughter sat ready prepared to receive her lovers. He was placed in a luxurious chair, and rich wines and spices were set before him, and all sorts of delicate meats. The shepherd, unused to such fare, eat and drank plentifully, so that he was nearly dozing before midnight. "O shepherd," said the lady, "I have caught you napping!" "Noa, sweet ally, I was busy a-feeshing." "A-fishing!" said the princess in the utmost astonishment: "Nay, shepherd, there is no fish-pond in the hall." "No matter vor that, I have been feeshing in my pocket, and have just caught one." "Oh me!" said she, "let me see it." The shepherd slily drew the fish out of his pocket, and pretending to have caught it, showed it her, and she declared it was the finest she ever saw. About half an hour afterwards, she said, "Shepherd, do you think you could get me one more?" He replied, "Mayhap I may, when I have baited my hook;" and after a little while he brought out another, which was finer than the first, and the princess was so delighted that she gave him leave to go to sleep, and promised to excuse him to her father.
Once there was a young shepherd tending his flock near the road who said to his master, "Hey, I see a lot of guys riding to the court at Canterbury, but I never see them come back." "Oh, shepherd," his master replied, "I don’t know how you would, because they try to woo the king's daughter, and if they fail, they’re all executed." "Well," said the shepherd, "I'll give it a shot; so now it's either for a king's daughter, or a headless shepherd!" With that, he grabbed his bottle and bag and headed to the court. On his way there, he had to cross a river, and while taking off his shoes and socks, he noticed some nice fish brushing against his feet, so he caught a few and put them in his pocket. When he arrived at the palace, he knocked loudly at the gate with his crook, and after stating the reason for his visit, he was quickly taken to a hall where the king's daughter was ready to meet her suitors. He was seated in a fancy chair, with rich wines and spices placed before him, along with all sorts of delicious food. The shepherd, not used to such luxury, ate and drank a lot, nearly dozing off before midnight. "Oh shepherd," the lady said, "I caught you dozing!" "No, my dear, I was just busy fishing." "Fishing!" the princess exclaimed in disbelief, "But there’s no fish pond in the hall." "That doesn't matter; I've been fishing in my pocket and just caught one." "Oh my!" she said, "Let me see it." The shepherd slyly pulled the fish out of his pocket, pretending he had just caught it, and she declared it the finest fish she had ever seen. About half an hour later, she asked, "Shepherd, do you think you could get me another?" He replied, "Maybe I can, once I bait my hook;" and after a little while, he presented another one, which was even better than the first. The princess was so thrilled that she let him go to sleep and promised to excuse him to her father.
| [17] | The present Kentish dialect does not adopt this form, but anciently some of the peculiarities of what is now the western dialect of England extended all over the southern counties. |
In the morning the princess told the king, to his great astonishment, that the shepherd must not be beheaded, for he had been fishing in the hall all night; but when he heard how the shepherd had caught such beautiful fish out of his pocket, he asked him to catch one in his own. The shepherd readily undertook the task, and bidding the king lie down, he pretended to fish in his pocket, having another fish concealed ready in his hand, and giving him a sly prick with a needle, he held up the fish, and showed it to the king. His majesty did not much relish the operation, but he assented to the marvel of it, and the princess and shepherd were united the same day, and lived for many years in happiness and prosperity.
In the morning, the princess told the king, to his great surprise, that the shepherd shouldn't be executed because he had been fishing in the hall all night. But when he heard how the shepherd had pulled out such beautiful fish from his pocket, he asked him to catch one from his own. The shepherd gladly took on the challenge and asked the king to lie down. He pretended to fish from his pocket, hiding another fish in his hand, and gave the king a gentle prick with a needle before holding up the fish to show him. The king wasn’t too thrilled about the trick, but he acknowledged the impressive feat. That same day, the princess and the shepherd were married and lived happily and prosperously for many years.
LAZY JACK.
[From oral tradition in Yorkshire.]
Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with his mother on a dreary common. They were very poor, and the old woman got her living by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing but bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the hearth in the winter time. His mother could not persuade him to do anything for her, and was obliged at last to tell him that if he did not begin to work for his porridge, she would turn him out to get his living as he could.
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack who lived with his mother on a bleak common. They were very poor, and the old woman earned a living by spinning. However, Jack was so lazy that he just lounged in the sun during the hot weather and sat by the fire in the winter. His mother couldn't convince him to help her out, and eventually, she had to tell him that if he didn't start working for his food, she would have to kick him out to fend for himself.
This threat at length roused Jack, and he went out and hired himself for the day to a neighbouring farmer for a penny; but as he was coming home, never having had any money in his possession before, he lost it in passing over a brook. "You stupid boy," said his mother, "you should have put it in your pocket." "I'll do so another time," replied Jack.
This threat finally woke Jack up, and he went out and got a day’s work with a nearby farmer for a penny. But as he was coming home, having never had any money before, he lost it crossing a stream. "You silly boy," said his mother, "you should've put it in your pocket." "I'll remember to do that next time," Jack replied.
The next day Jack went out again, and hired himself to a cowkeeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day's work. Jack took the jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all, long before he got home. "Dear me!" said the old woman; "you should have carried it on your head." "I'll do so another time," replied Jack.
The next day, Jack went out again and got a job with a cowkeeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day's work. Jack took the jar and stuffed it into the big pocket of his jacket, spilling it all before he even got home. "Oh no!" said the old woman; "you should have carried it on your head." "I'll do that next time," replied Jack.
The following day Jack hired himself again to a farmer, who agreed to give him a cream cheese for his services. In the evening, Jack took the cheese, and went home with it on his head. By the time he got home the cheese was completely spoilt, part of it being lost, and part matted with his hair. "You stupid lout," said his mother, "you should have carried it very carefully in your hands." "I'll do so another time," replied Jack.
The next day, Jack found work with a farmer who promised to pay him with a cream cheese for his efforts. That evening, Jack took the cheese and carried it on his head as he headed home. By the time he arrived, the cheese was completely ruined—some of it had fallen off, and the rest was stuck in his hair. “You foolish boy,” his mother said, “you should have carried it carefully in your hands.” “I’ll remember that for next time,” Jack replied.
The day after this Jack again went out, and hired himself to a baker, who would give him nothing for his work but a large tom-cat. Jack took the cat, and began carrying it very carefully in his hands, but in a short time Pussy scratched him so much that he was compelled to let it go. When he got home, his mother said to him, "You silly fellow, you should have tied it with a string, and dragged it along after you." "I'll do so another time," said Jack.
The next day, Jack went out again and got a job with a baker, who only offered him a large tomcat for his work. Jack accepted the cat and tried to carry it carefully, but it scratched him so much that he had to let it go. When he got home, his mother said to him, "You foolish boy, you should have tied it with a string and dragged it behind you." "I'll remember that for next time," Jack replied.
The next day Jack hired himself to a butcher, who rewarded his labours by the handsome present of a shoulder of mutton. Jack took the mutton, tied it to a string, and trailed it along after him in the dirt, so that by the time he had got home the meat was completely spoilt. His mother was this time quite out of patience with him, for the next day was Sunday, and she was obliged to content herself with cabbage for her dinner. "You ninnyhammer," said she to her son, "you should have carried it on your shoulder." "I'll do so another time," replied Jack.
The next day, Jack got a job with a butcher, who rewarded him for his work with a nice shoulder of mutton. Jack took the mutton, tied it to a string, and dragged it along behind him in the dirt, so by the time he got home, the meat was totally spoiled. His mother was completely fed up with him this time, because the next day was Sunday, and she had to settle for cabbage for her dinner. "You fool," she said to her son, "you should have carried it on your shoulder." "I'll do that next time," replied Jack.
On the Monday Jack went once more, and hired himself to a cattle-keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. Although Jack was very strong, he found some difficulty in hoisting the donkey on his shoulders, but at last he accomplished it, and began walking slowly home with his prize. Now it happened that in the course of his journey there lived a rich man with his only daughter, a beautiful girl, but unfortunately deaf and dumb; she had never laughed in her life, and the doctors said she would never recover till somebody made her laugh. [18] Many tried without success, and at last the father, in despair, offered her in marriage to the first man who could make her laugh. This young lady happened to be looking out of the window when Jack was passing with the donkey on his shoulders, the legs sticking up in the air, and the sight was so comical and strange, that she burst out into a great fit of laughter, and immediately recovered her speech and hearing. Her father was overjoyed, and fulfilled his promise by marrying her to Jack, who was thus made a rich gentleman. They lived in a large house, and Jack's mother lived with them in great happiness until she died.
On Monday, Jack went again and got a job with a cattle keeper, who gave him a donkey as payment. Even though Jack was really strong, he had some trouble hoisting the donkey onto his shoulders, but eventually, he managed it and started walking slowly home with his prize. During his journey, he passed by a rich man who had an only daughter, a beautiful girl who was unfortunately deaf and mute; she had never laughed in her life, and doctors said she wouldn’t get better until someone made her laugh. Many people tried unsuccessfully, and in the end, the father, in despair, promised her hand in marriage to the first man who could make her laugh. This young lady happened to be looking out of the window when Jack walked by with the donkey on his shoulders, the legs sticking up in the air, and the sight was so funny and odd that she burst out laughing, immediately regaining her speech and hearing. Her father was thrilled and honored his promise by marrying her to Jack, who became a wealthy gentleman. They lived in a big house, and Jack's mother stayed with them in great happiness until she passed away.
| [18] | An incident analogous to this occurs in Grimm, Die Goldene Gans. See Edgar Taylor's Gammer Grethel, 1839, p. 5. |
THE THREE HEADS OF THE WELL.
[This story is shortened from the old chapbook about the Three Kings of Colchester. The episode of the heads appearing from the well is quite similar to one found in Peele's Old Wives Tale, 1595, and the verse is also in a similar style.]
Long before Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, there reigned in the eastern part of England a king who kept his court at Colchester. He was witty, strong, and valiant, by which means he subdued his enemies abroad, and secured peace among his subjects at home. Nevertheless, in the midst of his glory, his queen died, leaving behind her an only daughter, about fifteen years of age. This lady, from her courtly carriage, beauty, and affability, was the wonder of all that knew her; but, as covetousness is said to be the root of all evil, so it happened in this instance. The king hearing of a lady who had likewise an only daughter, for the sake of her riches had a mind to marry; though she was old, ugly, hook-nosed, and humpbacked, yet all this could not deter him from marrying her. Her daughter, also, was a yellow dowdy, full of envy and ill-nature; and, in short, was much of the same mould as her mother. This signified nothing, for in a few weeks the king, attended by the nobility and gentry, brought his intended bride to his palace, where the marriage rites were performed. They had not been long in the court before they set the king against his own beautiful daughter, which was done by false reports and accusations. The young princess, having lost her father's love, grew weary of the court, and one day meeting with her father in the garden, she desired him, with tears in her eyes, to give her a small subsistence, and she would go and seek her fortune; to which the king consented, and ordered her mother-in-law to make up a small sum according to her discretion. She went to the queen, who gave her a canvass bag of brown bread and hard cheese, with a bottle of beer; though this was but a very pitiful dowry for a king's daughter. She took it, returned thanks, and proceeded on her journey, passing through groves, woods, and valleys, till at length she saw an old man sitting on a stone at the mouth of a cave, who said, "Good morrow, fair maiden, whither away so fast?" "Aged father," says she, "I am going to seek my fortune." "What has thou in thy bag and bottle?" "In my bag I have got bread and cheese, and in my bottle good small beer; will you please to partake of either?" "Yes," said he, "with all my heart." With that the lady pulled out her provisions, and bid him eat and welcome. He did so, and gave her many thanks, saying thus: "There is a thick thorny hedge before you, which will appear impassable, but take this wand in your hand, strike three times, and say, 'Pray, hedge, let me come through,' and it will open immediately; then, a little further, you will, find a well; sit down on the brink of it, and there will come up three golden heads, which will speak: pray do whatever they require." Promising she would follow his directions, she took her leave of him. Arriving at the hedge, and pursuing the old man's directions, it divided, and gave her a passage; then, going to the well, she had no sooner sat down than a golden head came up singing—
Long before Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, there was a king ruling in the eastern part of England who held his court in Colchester. He was clever, strong, and brave, which helped him defeat his enemies abroad and maintain peace among his subjects at home. However, amid his success, his queen passed away, leaving behind an only daughter, around fifteen years old. This young lady, admired for her graceful demeanor, beauty, and friendliness, captivated everyone who met her. But just as greed is often called the root of all evil, so it was in this case. The king heard about another lady who had an only daughter and, enticed by her wealth, wanted to marry her; despite the lady being old, unattractive, crooked-nosed, and hunchbacked, none of this stopped him from going through with the marriage. Her daughter was also a plain, envious girl, much like her mother. This didn’t matter, as a few weeks later, the king, accompanied by the nobility and gentry, brought his future bride to the palace, where the wedding took place. They hadn’t been in the court long before they turned the king against his own beautiful daughter through lies and accusations. The young princess, having lost her father’s affection, grew tired of the court. One day, she encountered her father in the garden and tearfully asked for a small allowance so she could seek her fortune on her own. The king agreed and instructed her stepmother to give her a modest amount as she saw fit. She approached the queen, who provided her with a canvas bag containing brown bread and hard cheese, along with a bottle of beer; though it was a rather meager dowry for a king’s daughter. She accepted it, expressed her gratitude, and began her journey, traveling through groves, woods, and valleys until she came across an old man sitting on a stone at the entrance of a cave. He said, "Good morning, fair maiden, where are you off to in such a hurry?" "Dear sir," she replied, "I’m going to seek my fortune." "What do you have in your bag and bottle?" "In my bag, I have bread and cheese, and in my bottle, good beer; would you like some?" "Yes," he replied, "with all my heart." The lady then shared her food with him, and he thanked her, saying: "There’s a thick, thorny hedge ahead that will seem impossible to cross, but take this wand in your hand, strike it three times, and say, 'Please, hedge, let me through,' and it will open right away. Then, a bit further, you’ll find a well; sit down at the edge, and three golden heads will rise up and speak to you: please do whatever they ask." She promised to follow his advice, thanked him, and continued on her way. When she reached the hedge and followed the old man’s instructions, it parted, allowing her to pass through. Then, when she arrived at the well and sat down, a golden head emerged, singing—
Clean me, and style me,And place me down gently,And put me on a bank to dry,So I can look nice,When someone passes by.
"Yes," said she, and putting forth her hand, with a silver comb performed the office, placing it upon a primrose bank. Then came up a second and a third head, making the same request, which she complied with. She then pulled out her provisions and ate her dinner. Then said the heads one to another, "What shall we do for this lady who hath used us so kindly?" The first said, "I will cause such addition to her beauty as shall charm the most powerful prince in the world." The second said, "I will endow her with such perfume, both in body and breath, as shall far exceed the sweetest flowers." The third said, "My gift shall be none of the least, for, as she is a king's daughter, I'll make her so fortunate that she shall become queen to the greatest prince that reigns." This done, at their request she let them down into the well again, and so proceeded on her journey. She had not travelled long before she saw a king hunting in the park with his nobles; she would have avoided him, but the king having caught a sight of her, approached, and what with her beauty and perfumed breath, was so powerfully smitten, that he was not able to subdue his passion, but commenced his courtship immediately, and was so successful that he gained her love, and, conducting her to his palace, he caused her to be clothed in the most magnificent manner.
"Yes," she said, and extending her hand with a silver comb, she did the task, placing it on a bank of primroses. Then a second and a third head appeared, making the same request, which she granted. She then took out her food and ate her lunch. The heads then said to each other, "What should we do for this lady who has treated us so kindly?" The first head said, "I'll enhance her beauty to such a degree that it will charm the most powerful prince in the world." The second head said, "I will give her a fragrance, both in her body and breath, that will far surpass the sweetest flowers." The third head said, "My gift will not be the least, for since she is a king's daughter, I'll make her so fortunate that she will become queen to the greatest prince that rules." After this, at their request, she let them down into the well again, and continued on her journey. She hadn't traveled long before she saw a king hunting in the park with his nobles; she tried to avoid him, but when the king caught sight of her, he approached. Captivated by her beauty and fragrant breath, he couldn't control his desire and began to court her immediately. He was so successful that he won her love, and taking her to his palace, he had her dressed in the most magnificent way.
This being ended, and the king finding that she was the king of Colchester's daughter, ordered some chariots to be got ready, that he might pay the king a visit. The chariot in which the king and queen rode was adorned with rich ornamental gems of gold. The king, her father, was at first astonished that his daughter had been so fortunate as she was, till the young king made him sensible of all that happened. Great was the joy at court amongst all, with the exception of the queen and her club-footed daughter, who were ready to burst with malice, and envied her happiness; and the greater was their madness because she was now above them all. Great rejoicings, with feasting and dancing, continued many days. Then at length, with the dowry her father gave her they returned home.
Once this was over, and the king realized she was the daughter of the king of Colchester, he had some chariots prepared for a visit. The chariot that the king and queen rode in was decorated with beautiful gold gems. At first, her father was surprised that his daughter had been so lucky, until the young king explained everything that had happened. Everyone at court was filled with joy, except for the queen and her club-footed daughter, who were seething with jealousy and envied her happiness; their anger was even more intense because she was now superior to them. There were great celebrations, with feasting and dancing, that lasted for many days. Eventually, with the dowry her father gave her, they returned home.
The deformed daughter perceiving that her sister had been so happy in seeking her fortune, would needs do the same; so disclosing her mind to her mother, all preparations were made, and she was furnished not only with rich apparel, but sweetmeats, sugar, almonds, &c., in great quantities, and a large bottle of Malaga sack. Thus provided, she went the same road as her sister, and coming near the cave, the old man said, "Young woman, whither so fast?" "What is that to you," said she. "Then," said he, "what have you in your bag and bottle?" She answered, "Good things, which you shall not be troubled with." "Won't you give me some?" said he. "No, not a bit, nor a drop, unless it would choke you." The old man frowned, saying, "Evil fortune attend thee." Going on, she came to the hedge, through which she espied a gap, and thought to pass through it, but, going in, the hedge closed, and the thorns run into her flesh, so that it was with great difficulty that she got out. Being now in a painful condition, she searched for water to wash herself, and, looking round, she saw the well; she sat down on the brink of it, and one of the heads came up, saying, "Wash me, comb me, and lay me down softly, &c." but she banged it with her bottle, saying, "Take this for your washing." So the second and third heads came up, and met with no better treatment than the first; whereupon the heads consulted among themselves what evils to plague her with for such usage. The first said, "Let her be struck with leprosy in her face." The second, "Let an additional smell be added to her breath." The third bestowed on her a husband, though but a poor country cobler. This done, she goes on till she came to a town, and it being market day, the people looked at her, and seeing such an evil face fled out of her sight, all but a poor cobler (who not long before had mended the shoes of an old hermit, who having no money, gave him a box of ointment for the cure of the leprosy, and a bottle of spirits for a stinking breath). Now the cobler having a mind to do an act of charity, was induced to go up to her and ask her who she was. "I am," said she, "the king of Colchester's daughter-in-law." "Well," said the cobler, "if I restore you to your natural complexion, and make a sound cure both in face and breath, will you in reward take me for a husband?" "Yes, friend," replied she, "with all my heart." With this the cobler applied the remedies, and they worked the effect in a few weeks, and then they were married, and after a few days they set forward for the court at Colchester. When the queen understood she had married a poor cobler, she fell into distraction, and hanged herself for vexation. The death of the queen was not a source of sorrow to the king, who had only married her for her fortune, and bore her no affection; and shortly afterwards he gave the cobler a hundred pounds to take the daughter to a remote part of the kingdom, where he lived many years mending shoes, while his wife assisted the housekeeping by spinning, and selling the results of her labours at the country market.
The deformed daughter, noticing how happy her sister was in pursuing her fortune, decided she wanted to try the same. She confided in her mother, and preparations were made for her journey. She was provided not only with fancy clothes but also with plenty of treats like sweets, sugar, almonds, etc., and a large bottle of Malaga wine. Equipped with all this, she took the same path as her sister. When she approached the cave, the old man asked, "Young woman, where are you rushing off to?" "What’s it to you?" she replied. "Then," he said, "what's in your bag and bottle?" She answered, "Good things, which you won’t be getting." "Won't you share any with me?" he asked. "No, not a bit or a drop, unless it would choke you." The old man frowned and said, "May misfortune follow you." As she continued, she reached a hedge and spotted a gap she tried to slip through, but as she entered, the hedge closed up and thorns stabbed into her skin, making it hard for her to escape. Now in pain, she looked for water to clean herself up and noticed a well nearby. She sat on the edge, and one of the heads inside emerged, saying, "Wash me, comb me, and lay me down gently." She hit it with her bottle, saying, "Here’s something for your washing." The second and third heads came up and were treated no better than the first. Then, the heads conspired on how to punish her for such disrespect. The first suggested, "Let her get leprosy on her face." The second said, "Add an awful smell to her breath." The third gifted her a husband, though he was just a poor country cobbler. After that, she moved on until she reached a town where it was market day. People looked at her and, horrified by her ugly face, ran away, except for a poor cobbler. This cobbler had recently mended the shoes of an old hermit who, unable to pay him, had given him a box of ointment for leprosy and a bottle of spirits for bad breath. The cobbler, wanting to help, approached her and asked who she was. "I am," she said, "the daughter-in-law of the king of Colchester." "Well," replied the cobbler, "if I restore your natural beauty and cure your face and breath, will you marry me as a reward?" "Yes, my friend," she responded, "with all my heart." So the cobbler applied the remedies, and they worked in a few weeks. They got married and shortly afterward set off for the court in Colchester. When the queen found out she had married a poor cobbler, she went into a frenzy and hanged herself out of despair. The king, who had only married her for her wealth and didn’t care for her, felt no sorrow over her death. Soon after, he gave the cobbler a hundred pounds to take his daughter to a far-off part of the kingdom, where they lived for many years. The cobbler repaired shoes, while his wife helped manage the household by spinning and selling her products at the local market.
THE MAIDEN AND THE FROG.
[This tale of the frog-lover is well-known throughout Germany and is referenced by several old writers from that country. It is the story "Der Froschkönig, oder der Eiserne Heinrich," in Grimm. "These enchanted frogs," says Sir W. Scott, "have come from far away, and we suspect they were originally crocodiles; we find them in a story that is part of a series called the Relations of Ssidi Kur, known among the Calmuck Tartars." Mr. Chambers provided a Scottish version of the tale titled "The well o' the warld's end," in his Popular Rhymes, p. 236. The rhymes in the version above were collected from the North of England, without any direct reference to the story to which they clearly belong. However, the connection is so evident to anyone familiar with the German and Scottish tales that the framework I've given them seems fitting; although I should mention how ideal it would be to obtain the traditional version as told by English peasants. Perhaps some of our readers can help provide it.]
Many years ago there lived on the brow of a mountain, in the North of England, an old woman and her daughter. They were very poor, and obliged to work very hard for their living, and the old woman's temper was not very good, so that the maiden, who was very beautiful, led but an ill life with her. The girl, indeed, was compelled to do the hardest work, for her mother got their principal means of subsistence by travelling to places in the neighbourhood with small articles for sale, and when she came home in the afternoon she was not able to do much more work. Nearly the whole domestic labour of the cottage devolved therefore on the daughter, the most wearisome part of which consisted in the necessity of fetching all the water they required from a well on the other side of the hill, there being no river or spring near their own cottage.
Many years ago, there lived an old woman and her daughter on the slope of a mountain in the north of England. They were very poor and had to work hard to make a living, and the old woman's temper wasn’t great, which made life difficult for her beautiful daughter. The girl was forced to do the toughest tasks because her mother made their main income by traveling to nearby towns to sell small items. By the time her mother came home in the afternoon, she was too tired to do much more work. As a result, almost all the domestic chores fell to the daughter, the most exhausting of which involved fetching all the water they needed from a well on the other side of the hill, since there was no river or spring close to their cottage.
It happened one morning that the daughter had the misfortune, in going to the well, to break the only pitcher they possessed, and having no other utensil she could use for the purpose, she was obliged to go home without bringing any water. When her mother returned, she was unfortunately troubled with excessive thirst, and the girl, though trembling for the consequences of her misfortune, told her exactly the circumstance that had occurred. The old woman was furiously angry, and so far from making any allowances for her daughter, pointed to a sieve which happened to be on the table, and told her to go at once to the well and bring her some water in that, or never venture to appear again in her sight.
One morning, the daughter accidentally broke their only pitcher while heading to the well, and since she didn’t have anything else to use, she had to go home without any water. When her mother came back, she was extremely thirsty, and the girl, despite being anxious about what had happened, explained everything that occurred. The old woman got really angry and didn’t show any understanding for her daughter’s mistake. She pointed to a sieve on the table and demanded that the girl immediately go to the well and bring her water in that, or she would never be welcomed back.
The young maiden, frightened almost out of her wits by her mother's fury, speedily took the sieve, and though she considered the task a hopeless one to accomplish, almost unconsciously hastened to the well. When she arrived there, beginning to reflect on the painful situation in which she was placed, and the utter impossibility of her obtaining a living by herself, she threw herself down on the brink of the well in an agony of despair. Whilst she was in this condition, a large frog came up to the top of the water, and asked her for what she was crying so bitterly. She was somewhat surprised at this, but not being the least frightened, told him the whole story, and that she was crying because she could not carry away water in the sieve. "Is that all?" said the frog; "cheer up, my hinny! for if you will only let me sleep with you for two nights, and then chop off my head, I will tell you how to do it." The maiden thought the frog could not be in earnest, but she was too impatient to consider much about it, and at once made the required promise. The frog then instructed her in the following words,—
The young girl, almost scared out of her mind by her mother's anger, quickly grabbed the sieve. Although she thought the task was impossible, she unconsciously rushed to the well. When she got there, reflecting on her painful situation and the complete impossibility of making a living on her own, she collapsed at the edge of the well in sheer despair. While she was in this state, a large frog swam up to the surface and asked her why she was crying so hard. She was a bit surprised by this but wasn't scared at all, so she told him everything, explaining that she was upset because she couldn't carry water in the sieve. "Is that all?" said the frog. "Cheer up, my dear! If you let me sleep with you for two nights and then chop off my head, I can tell you how to do it." The girl thought the frog must be joking, but she was too impatient to dwell on it and immediately made the promised deal. The frog then instructed her in the following words,—
Stop using fog (moss),And cover it with clay;And that will drainThe water away.
Having said this, he dived immediately under the water, and the girl, having followed his advice, got the sieve full of water, and returned home with it, not thinking much of her promise to the frog. By the time she reached home the old woman's wrath was appeased, but as they were eating their frugal supper very quietly, what should they hear but the splashing and croaking of a frog near the door, and shortly afterwards the daughter recognised the voice of the frog of the well saying,—
Having said that, he immediately dove under the water, and the girl, following his advice, got the sieve full of water and went home with it, not really thinking about her promise to the frog. By the time she got home, the old woman's anger had calmed down, but while they were quietly eating their simple supper, they suddenly heard the splashing and croaking of a frog near the door, and soon after, the daughter recognized the voice of the frog from the well saying,—
Open the door, my love, my heart,Open the door, my dear;Remember the words you said to me,In the field by the spring.
She was now dreadfully frightened, and hurriedly explained the matter to her mother, who was also so much alarmed at the circumstance, that she dared not refuse admittance to the frog, who, when the door was opened, leapt into the room, exclaiming:
She was now really scared and quickly told her mother about it. Her mother was so worried about the situation that she couldn't say no to letting the frog in. When the door was opened, the frog jumped into the room, shouting:
Come to bed with me, my darling, my love,Come to bed with me, my sweet heart;Remember what you said to me,In the field by the spring.
This command was also obeyed, although, as may be readily supposed, she did not much relish such a bedfellow. The next day, the frog was very quiet, and evidently enjoyed the fare they placed before him,—the purest milk and the finest bread they could procure. In fact, neither the old woman nor her daughter spared any pains to render the frog comfortable. That night, immediately supper was finished, the frog again exclaimed:
This command was also followed, although, as you might imagine, she wasn't thrilled about sharing a bed with him. The next day, the frog was very calm and clearly enjoyed the food they provided—fresh milk and the best bread they could find. In fact, neither the old woman nor her daughter held back in making the frog comfortable. That night, as soon as dinner was over, the frog once again exclaimed:
Come to bed with me, my dear, my love,Come to bed with me, my sweet darling;Remember the words you said to me,In the meadow by the water spring.
She again allowed the frog to share her couch, and in the morning, as soon as she was dressed, he jumped towards her, saying:
She once more let the frog sit on her couch, and in the morning, as soon as she got dressed, he leaped towards her, saying:
Cut off my head, my dear, my heart,Cut off my head, my beloved;Remember the words you said to me,In the meadow by the spring.
The maiden had no sooner accomplished this last request, than in the stead of the frog there stood by her side the handsomest prince in the world, who had long been transformed by a magician, and who could never have recovered his natural shape until a beautiful virgin had consented, of her own accord, to make him her bedfellow for two nights. The joy of all parties was complete; the girl and the prince were shortly afterwards married, and lived for many years in the enjoyment of every happiness.
The maiden had just finished this final request when, instead of the frog, there stood the handsomest prince in the world next to her. He had been transformed by a magician for a long time and could only return to his true form if a beautiful virgin willingly agreed to share her bed with him for two nights. Everyone was overjoyed; soon after, the girl and the prince got married and lived happily for many years.
THE STORY OF MR. FOX.
[A straightforward yet intriguing tale with significant history. Shakespeare references it, and Blakeway added it to the variorum edition. Some aspects of this story will remind the reader of Britomart's enchanted chamber.]
Once upon a time there was a young lady called Lady Mary, who had two brothers. One summer they all three went to a country seat of theirs which they had not before visited. Among the other gentry in the neighbourhood who came to see them was a Mr. Fox, a bachelor, with whom they, particularly the young lady, were much pleased. He used often to dine with them, and frequently invited Lady Mary to come and see his house. One day, when her brothers were absent elsewhere, and she had nothing better to do, she determined to go thither, and accordingly set out unattended. When she arrived at the house and knocked at the door, no one answered. At length she opened it and went in, and over the portal of the door was written:
Once upon a time, there was a young woman named Lady Mary who had two brothers. One summer, the three of them visited a country estate they had never seen before. Among the other local gentry who came to see them was a bachelor named Mr. Fox, whom they—especially Lady Mary—liked very much. He often dined with them and frequently invited Lady Mary to come visit his house. One day, when her brothers were away and she had nothing else to do, she decided to go there, so she set out on her own. When she got to the house and knocked on the door, no one answered. Eventually, she opened the door and went inside, and over the doorway was written:
Be courageous, be courageous, but not excessively so.
She advanced, and found the same inscription over the staircase; again at the entrance of a gallery; and lastly, at the door of a chamber, with the addition of a line:
She moved forward and saw the same inscription above the staircase; again at the entrance of a hallway; and finally, at the door of a room, with an added line:
Be brave, be brave, but not overly brave,Or your passion might fade away!
She opened it, and what was her terror and astonishment to find the floor covered with bones and blood. She retreated in haste, and coming down stairs, she saw from a window Mr. Fox advancing towards the house with a drawn sword in one hand, while with the other he dragged along a young lady by the hair of her head. Lady Mary had just time to slip down, and hide herself under the stairs, before Mr. Fox and his victim arrived at the foot of them. As he pulled the young lady upstairs, she caught hold of one of the bannisters with her hand, on which was a rich bracelet. Mr. Fox cut it off with his sword: the hand and bracelet fell into Lady Mary's lap, who then contrived to escape unobserved, and got safe home to her brothers' house.
She opened it, and to her horror and shock, she found the floor covered with bones and blood. She quickly backed away, and as she went down the stairs, she saw from a window Mr. Fox approaching the house with a drawn sword in one hand, while he dragged a young lady by her hair with the other. Lady Mary barely had time to slip down and hide under the stairs before Mr. Fox and his victim reached the bottom. As he pulled the young lady upstairs, she grabbed one of the bannisters with her hand, which had a valuable bracelet on it. Mr. Fox cut it off with his sword: the hand and bracelet fell into Lady Mary's lap, who then managed to escape unnoticed and got safely home to her brothers' house.
A few days afterwards, Mr. Fox came to dine with them as usual. After dinner, the guests began to amuse each other with extraordinary anecdotes, and Lady Mary said she would relate to them a remarkable dream she had lately had. I dreamt, said she, that as you, Mr. Fox, had often invited me to your house, I would go there one morning. When I came to the house, I knocked at the door, but no one answered. When I opened the door, over the hall I saw written, "Be bold, be bold, but not too bold." But, said she, turning to Mr. Fox, and smiling, "It is not so, nor it was not so." Then she pursued the rest of the story, concluding at every turn with, "It is not so, nor it was not so," till she came to the discovery of the room full of bones, when Mr. Fox took up the burden of the tale, and said:
A few days later, Mr. Fox came over for dinner as he usually did. After dinner, the guests started sharing some incredible stories, and Lady Mary said she wanted to tell them about a remarkable dream she had recently. "I dreamed," she said, "that since you, Mr. Fox, had often invited me to your house, I decided to visit one morning. When I got to the house, I knocked on the door, but no one answered. When I opened the door, I saw written above the hall, 'Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.' But," she said, turning to Mr. Fox with a smile, "that's not how it went, nor is it how it was." Then she continued the rest of the story, ending each section with, "That's not how it went, nor is it how it was," until she reached the part where she discovered a room full of bones, at which point Mr. Fox picked up the story and said:
That’s not the case, and it never was,And God forbid it ever should be!
which he continued to repeat at every subsequent turn of the dreadful story, till she came to the circumstance of his cutting off the young lady's hand, when, upon his saying, as usual,
which he kept repeating at every following point in the terrible story, until she reached the part about him cutting off the young lady's hand, when, as usual,
That's not true, and it never was,And God forbid it ever be!
Lady Mary retorts by saying,
Lady Mary replies,
But that's the way it is, and that's how it was,And here's the hand I have to display!
at the same moment producing the hand and bracelet from her lap. Whereupon the guests drew their swords, and instantly cut Mr. Fox into a thousand pieces.
at the same moment taking the hand and bracelet from her lap. The guests then drew their swords and quickly sliced Mr. Fox into a thousand pieces.
THE OXFORD STUDENT.
[Obtained in Oxfordshire from tradition.]
Many years ago there lived at the University of Oxford a young student, who, having seduced the daughter of a tradesman, sought to conceal his crime by committing the more heinous one of murder. With this view, he made an appointment to meet her one evening in a secluded field. She was at the rendezvous considerably before the time agreed upon for their meeting, and hid herself in a tree. The student arrived on the spot shortly afterwards, but what was the astonishment of the girl to observe that he commenced digging a grave. Her fears and suspicions were aroused, and she did not leave her place of concealment till the student, despairing of her arrival, returned to his college. The next day, when she was at the door of her father's house, he passed and saluted her as usual. She returned his greeting by repeating the following lines:
Many years ago at the University of Oxford, a young student seduced the daughter of a tradesman and tried to cover up his wrongdoing by committing the even worse crime of murder. To do this, he arranged to meet her one evening in a secluded field. She arrived at the meeting spot well before the agreed time and hid in a tree. The student showed up shortly after, but the girl was shocked to see him start digging a grave. Her fears and suspicions grew, and she stayed hidden until the student, frustrated by her absence, went back to his college. The next day, when she was outside her father's house, he walked by and greeted her as usual. She replied to his greeting by reciting the following lines:
On a moonlit night, as I sat up high,Waiting for someone to pass by,The branches bent; my heart was soreTo see where the fox had made its door.
Astounded by her unexpected knowledge of his base design, in a moment of fury he stabbed her to the heart. This murder occasioned a violent conflict between the tradespeople and the students, the latter taking part with the murderer, and so fierce was the skirmish, that Brewer's Lane, it is said, ran down with blood. The place of appointment was adjoining the Divinity Walk, which was in time past far more secluded than at the present day, and she is said to have been buried in the grave made for her by her paramour.
Stunned by her surprising knowledge of his basic plan, he, in a fit of rage, stabbed her in the heart. This murder sparked a fierce conflict between the townspeople and the students, with the latter siding with the murderer, and the fight was so intense that Brewer's Lane, it’s said, ran red with blood. The meeting spot was next to the Divinity Walk, which used to be much more secluded than it is now, and she is said to have been buried in the grave prepared for her by her lover.
According to another version of the tale, the name of the student was Fox, and a fellow-student went with him to assist in digging the grave. The verses in this account differ somewhat from the above.
According to another version of the story, the student's name was Fox, and a classmate went with him to help dig the grave. The lines in this account are a bit different from the previous one.
As I stepped outside on a moonlit night,I leaned against the moon,I searched for one and saw two approach:The branches bent, the leaves rustled,I noticed the hole that the Fox had created.
JACK HORNBY.
[This short story was probably taken from the beginning of the original edition of Jack the Giant-killer, where similar events are described about that famous hero.]
In the reign of King Arthur there lived near the Land's End, in Cornwall, a wealthy farmer, who had an only son, commonly called Jack Hornby. He was of a brisk and ready wit, and he was never known to be outwitted in any transaction.
In the time of King Arthur, there lived a wealthy farmer near Land's End in Cornwall, who had an only son known as Jack Hornby. He was quick-witted and sharp, and he was never outsmarted in any deal.
One day, when he was no more than seven years of age, his father sent him into the field to look after his oxen. While he was attending to them, the lord of the manor came across the field, and as Jack was known to be a clever boy, he began asking him questions. His first was, "How many commandments are there?" Jack told him there were nine. The lord corrected him, saying there were ten. "Nay," quoth Jack, "you are wrong there: it is true there were ten, but you broke one of them when you stole my father's cow for your rent." The lord of the manor was so struck by this answer, that he promised to return the poor man's cow.
One day, when he was just seven years old, his father sent him to the field to take care of the oxen. While he was looking after them, the lord of the manor walked through the field, and since Jack was known to be a smart kid, he started asking him questions. His first question was, "How many commandments are there?" Jack replied that there were nine. The lord corrected him, saying there were ten. "No," Jack said, "you're wrong there: it's true there were ten, but you broke one when you stole my father's cow for your rent." The lord of the manor was so taken aback by this answer that he promised to return the poor man's cow.
"Now," quoth Jack, "it is my turn to ask a question. Can you tell me how many sticks go to build a crow's nest?" "Yes," said he, "there are as many go as are sufficient for the size of the nest." "Oh!" quoth Jack, "you are out again; there are none go, for they are all carried!"
"Now," said Jack, "it's my turn to ask a question. Can you tell me how many sticks are needed to build a crow's nest?" "Yes," he replied, "the number depends on the size of the nest." "Oh!" said Jack, "you're mistaken again; there aren't any sticks needed, because they're all carried!"
Jack Hornby was never more troubled with questions by the lord of the manor.
Jack Hornby was never more troubled by questions from the lord of the manor.
MALLY DIXON AND KNURRE-MURRE.
Stories of fairies appearing in the shape of cats are common in the North of England. Mr. Longstaffe relates that a farmer of Staindrop, in Durham, was one night crossing a bridge, when a cat jumped out, stood before him, and looking him full in the face, said:
Stories of fairies showing up as cats are common in northern England. Mr. Longstaffe shares that a farmer from Staindrop in Durham was crossing a bridge one night when a cat jumped out, stood in front of him, and looked him straight in the eye, saying:
Johnny Reed! Johnny Reed! Tell Madam Momfort That Mally Dixon has died.
The farmer returned home, and in mickle wonder recited this awfu' stanza to his wife, when up started their black cat, saying, "Is she?" and disappeared for ever. It was supposed she was a fairy in disguise, who thus went to attend a sister's funeral, for in the North fairies do die, and green shady spots are pointed out by the country folks as the cemeteries of the tiny people. An analogous story is found in the people-literature of Denmark. Near a town called Lyng is the hill of Brondhoë, inhabited by the trold-folk, or imps. Amongst these trolds was an old sickly devil, peevish and ill-tempered, because he was married to a young wife. This unhappy trold often set the rest by the ears, so they nicknamed him Knurre-Murre, or Rumble-Grumble. Now it came to pass, that Knurre-Murre discovered that his young wife was inclined to honour him with a supplemental pair of horns; and the object of his jealousy, to avoid his vengeance, was compelled to fly for his life from the cavern, and take refuge, in the shape of a tortoise-shell cat, in the house of Goodman Platt, who harboured him with much hospitality, let him lie on the great wicker chair, and fed him twice a day with bread and milk out of a red earthenware pipkin. One evening the goodman came home, at a late hour, full of wonderment. "Goody," exclaimed he to his wife, "as I was passing by Brondhoë, there came out a trold, who spake to me, saying,
The farmer went home and, in great astonishment, recited this awful stanza to his wife when their black cat suddenly jumped up and said, "Is she?" before disappearing forever. It was believed she was a fairy in disguise, off to attend a sister's funeral, because in the North, fairies do die, and locals point to green shady spots as the burial places of these tiny beings. A similar story exists in Danish folklore. Near a town called Lyng is the Brondhoë hill, home to the trold-folk, or imps. Among these trolds was an old, sickly devil who was grumpy and irritable because he was married to a young wife. This miserable trold often caused trouble for the others, earning him the nickname Knurre-Murre, or Rumble-Grumble. One day, Knurre-Murre found out that his young wife was thinking about giving him a pair of horns, and the object of his jealousy had to flee for his life from the cave, transforming into a tortoise-shell cat. This cat took refuge in the house of Goodman Platt, who welcomed him with open arms, letting him relax on the big wicker chair and feeding him twice a day with bread and milk from a red earthenware pot. One evening, the goodman came home late, filled with wonder. "Goody," he exclaimed to his wife, "as I was passing by Brondhoë, a trold came out and spoke to me, saying,
Listen, Plat,Tell your catThat Knurre-Murre is dead.Hear this, Platt,Say to your catThat Knurre-Murre is dead."
The tortoise-shell cat was lying on the great wicker chair, and eating his supper of bread and milk out of the red earthenware pipkin, when the goodman came in; but as soon as the message was delivered, he jumped bolt upright upon his two hind legs, for all the world like a Christian, and kicking the red earthenware pipkin and the rest of the bread and milk before him, he whisked through the cottage door, mewing, "What! is Knurre-Murre dead? then I may go home again!" [19]
The tortoiseshell cat was lying on the big wicker chair, eating his dinner of bread and milk out of the red clay pot when the man came in. As soon as the message was delivered, he jumped up on his hind legs, just like a person, and kicked the red clay pot and the rest of the bread and milk away from him. He dashed through the cottage door, meowing, "What! Is Knurre-Murre dead? Then I can go home again!" [19]
| [19] | This analysis of the Danish tale is taken from an article in the Quarterly Review, xxi. 98. |
THE BULL OF NORROWAY.
[This is a modern interpretation, adapted from oral tradition, of the ancient story of the Black Bull of Norroway, referenced in the Complaynt of Scotland, 1548. It is included here with the author's generous permission, taken from the Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by Mr. Robert Chambers, the most enjoyable book of its kind ever published.]
Next, they resort to wilder actions:The dark black bull of Norroway!Suddenly, the candles go out,The musicians stop playing!
Once upon a time there lived a king who had three daughters; the two eldest were proud and ugly, but the youngest was the gentlest and most beautiful creature ever seen, and the pride not only of her father and mother, but of all in the land. As it fell out, the three princesses were talking one night of whom they would marry. "I will have no one lower than a king," said the eldest princess; the second would take a prince, or a great duke even. "Pho, pho," said the youngest, laughing, "you are both so proud; now, I would be content with the Red Bull o' Norroway." Well, they thought no more of the matter till the next morning, when, as they sat at breakfast, they heard the most dreadful bellowing at the door, and what should it be but the Red Bull come for his bride. You may be sure they were all terribly frightened at this, for the Red Bull was one of the most horrible creatures ever seen in the world. And the king and queen did not know how to save their daughter. At last they determined to send him off with the old henwife. So they put her on his back, and away he went with her till he came to a great black forest, when, throwing her down, he returned, roaring louder and more frightfully than ever. They then sent, one by one, all the servants, then the two eldest princesses; but not one of them met with any better treatment than the old henwife, and at last they were forced to send their youngest and favorite child.
Once upon a time, there was a king with three daughters; the two oldest were proud and unattractive, but the youngest was the kindest and most beautiful person anyone had ever seen, and she was the pride not just of her parents but of everyone in the kingdom. One night, the three princesses were discussing whom they would marry. "I won't settle for anyone below a king," said the eldest princess; the second would accept a prince or even a great duke. "Oh, come on," laughed the youngest, "you're both so full of yourselves; I’d be happy with the Red Bull of Norroway." They didn’t think much more about it until the next morning during breakfast when they heard a terrifying bellowing at the door, and what should appear but the Red Bull come to claim his bride. Naturally, they were all incredibly scared because the Red Bull was one of the most fearsome creatures ever seen. The king and queen didn't know how to save their daughter. Eventually, they decided to send the old henwife with him. They placed her on his back, and off he went with her until he reached a big, dark forest, where he threw her down and returned, roaring louder and more terrifying than ever. They then sent all the servants one by one, followed by the two oldest princesses; none of them had any better luck than the old henwife, and ultimately, they had no choice but to send their youngest and favorite child.
On travelled the lady and the bull through many dreadful forests and lonely wastes, till they came at last to a noble castle, where a large company was assembled. The lord of the castle pressed them to stay, though much he wondered at the lovely princess and her strange companion. When they went in among the company, the princess espied a pin sticking in the bull's hide, which she pulled out, and, to the surprise of all, there appeared not a frightful wild beast, but one of the most beautiful princes ever beheld. You may believe how delighted the princess was to see him fall at her feet, and thank her for breaking his cruel enchantment. There were great rejoicings in the castle at this; but, alas! at that moment he suddenly disappeared, and though every place was sought, he was nowhere to be found. The princess, however, determined to seek through all the world for him, and many weary ways she went, but nothing could she hear of her lover. Travelling once through a dark wood, she lost her way, and as night was coming on, she thought she must now certainly die of cold and hunger; but seeing a light through the trees, she went on till she came to a little hut, where an old woman lived, who took her in, and gave her both food and shelter. In the morning, the old wifie gave her three nuts, that she was not to break till her heart was "like to break, and owre again like to break;" so, showing her the way, she bade God speed her, and the princess once more set out on her wearisome journey.
On they traveled, the lady and the bull, through many terrifying forests and desolate lands, until they finally reached a grand castle filled with people. The lord of the castle invited them to stay, though he was quite curious about the beautiful princess and her unusual companion. As they entered the gathering, the princess noticed a pin stuck in the bull's hide, which she pulled out, and to everyone's astonishment, instead of a fearsome wild beast, there stood one of the most stunning princes anyone had ever seen. You can imagine how thrilled the princess was to see him fall at her feet, thanking her for breaking his cruel spell. There was great celebration in the castle, but, alas! in that moment, he suddenly vanished, and despite searching everywhere, he was nowhere to be found. The princess, determined to search the entire world for him, traveled many exhausting paths, but she heard nothing of her beloved. While passing through a dark forest, she lost her way, and as night fell, she feared she would surely perish from cold and hunger. However, upon seeing a light through the trees, she continued until she reached a small hut, where an elderly woman lived. The woman welcomed her in and provided her with food and shelter. In the morning, the old woman gave her three nuts, instructing her not to break them until her heart was "about to break, and again about to break." After showing her the way, she wished her good luck, and the princess once again set off on her long journey.
She had not gone far till a company of lords and ladies rode past her, all talking merrily of the fine doings they expected at the Duke o' Norroway's wedding. Then she came up to a number of people carrying all sorts of fine things, and they, too, were going to the duke's wedding. At last she came to a castle, where nothing was to be seen but cooks and bakers, some running one way, and some another, and all so busy that they did not know what to do first. Whilst she was looking at all this, she heard a noise of hunters behind her, and some one cried out, "Make way for the Duke o' Norroway!" and who should ride past but the prince and a beautiful lady! You may be sure her heart was now "like to break, and owre again like to break," at this sad sight; so she broke one of the nuts, and out came a wee wifie carding. The princess then went into the castle, and asked to see the lady, who no sooner saw the wee wifie so hard at work, than she offered the princess anything in her castle for it. "I will give it to you," said she, "only on condition that you put off for one day your marriage with the Duke o' Norroway, and that I may go into his room alone to-night." So anxious was the lady for the nut, that she consented. And when dark night was come, and the duke fast asleep, the princess was put alone into his chamber. Sitting down by his bedside, she began singing:
She hadn't gone far when a group of lords and ladies rode past her, all happily chatting about the exciting events they were looking forward to at the Duke of Norroway's wedding. Then she came across a crowd of people carrying all kinds of fancy items, and they, too, were heading to the duke's wedding. Eventually, she arrived at a castle where all she could see were cooks and bakers, some rushing in one direction and some in another, all so busy that they didn’t know what to do first. While she was watching all this, she heard the sound of hunters behind her, and someone shouted, "Make way for the Duke of Norroway!" Riding past were the prince and a beautiful lady! You can imagine her heart was "like to break, and owre again like to break," at this heartbreaking scene; so she cracked open one of the nuts, and out came a tiny woman carding. The princess then entered the castle and asked to see the lady, who, as soon as she spotted the tiny woman working so hard, offered the princess anything she wanted from her castle for it. "I'll give it to you," she said, "but only if you postpone your marriage to the Duke of Norroway for one day, and that I get to go into his room alone tonight." So eager was the lady for the nut that she agreed. When night fell and the duke was fast asleep, the princess was brought into his chamber alone. Sitting down by his bedside, she began to sing:
I have searched for you far and wide, and now I'm close to you;Dear Duke of Norroway, will you not turn and talk to me?
Though she sang this over and over again, the duke never wakened, and in the morning the princess had to leave him, without his knowing she had ever been there. She then broke the second nut, and out came a wee wifie spinning, which so delighted the lady, that she readily agreed to put off her marriage another day for it; but the princess came no better speed the second night than the first, and, almost in despair, she broke the last nut, which contained a wee wifie reeling; and on the same condition as before, the lady got possession of it. When the duke was dressing in the morning, his man asked him what the strange singing and moaning that had been heard in his room for two nights meant. "I heard nothing," said the duke; "it could only have been your fancy." "Take no sleeping-draught to night, and be sure to lay aside your pillow of heaviness," said the man, "and you also will hear what for two nights has kept me awake." The duke did so, and the princess coming in, sat down sighing at his bedside, thinking this the last time she might ever see him. The duke started up when he heard the voice of his dearly-loved princess; and with many endearing expressions of surprise and joy, explained to her that he had long been in the power of an enchantress, whose spells over him were now happily ended by their once again meeting. The princess, happy to be the instrument of his second deliverance, consented to marry him, and the enchantress, who fled that country, afraid of the duke's anger, has never since been heard of. All was hurry and preparation in the castle, and the marriage which now took place at once ended the adventures of the Red Bull o' Norroway and the wanderings of the king's daughter.
Though she sang this over and over again, the duke never woke up, and in the morning, the princess had to leave him without him knowing she had ever been there. She then broke the second nut, and out came a tiny woman spinning, which delighted the lady so much that she readily agreed to postpone her marriage for another day for it; but the princess had no better luck the second night than the first, and, almost in despair, she broke the last nut, which contained a tiny woman reeling; and under the same condition as before, the lady took possession of it. When the duke was getting dressed in the morning, his servant asked him what the strange singing and moaning that had been heard in his room for two nights meant. "I heard nothing," said the duke; "it must have been your imagination." "Don’t take any sleeping pills tonight, and be sure to set aside your heavy pillow," said the servant, "and you too will hear what has kept me awake for two nights." The duke did so, and when the princess came in, she sat down sighing at his bedside, thinking this might be the last time she ever saw him. The duke jumped up when he heard the voice of his beloved princess; and with many affectionate expressions of surprise and joy, he explained to her that he had long been under the power of an enchantress, and her spells over him were now happily ended by their meeting again. The princess, thrilled to be the one who helped free him a second time, agreed to marry him, and the enchantress, who fled the country out of fear of the duke's anger, has never been heard from since. There was a flurry of activity in the castle, and the wedding that took place immediately ended the adventures of the Red Bull of Norroway and the wanderings of the king's daughter.
PUSS IN BOOTS.
[One of Perrault's stories from 1697. The plot was inspired by the first novel from the eleventh night of Straparola. Its moral is that skills are just as valuable as wealth. We've included this in our collection, even though it's widely recognized, as an example of the straightforward tales that Perrault based on older stories, which quickly gained popularity in this country. Other stories, like Blue Beard and Little Red Riding Hood, are disappearing from children's books, but they are so well-known that reprints would be unnecessary.]
There was a miller, who left no more estate to his three sons than his mill, his ass, and his cat. The partition was soon made, neither scrivener nor attorney being sent for. They would soon have eaten up all the patrimony. The eldest had the mill, the second the ass, and the youngest nothing but the cat.
There was a miller who left his three sons nothing but his mill, his donkey, and his cat. The division of the inheritance was done quickly, without hiring a lawyer or a notary. They would have quickly drained all the inheritance otherwise. The eldest got the mill, the second got the donkey, and the youngest received only the cat.
The poor young fellow was quite downcast at so poor a lot. "My brothers," said he, "may get their living handsomely enough by joining their stocks together, but for my part, when I have eaten up my cat, and made me a muff of his skin, I must die with hunger." The cat, who heard all this, yet made as if he did not, said to him, with a grave and serious air, "Do not thus afflict yourself, my good master; you have nothing else to do but give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me, that I may scamper through the dirt and the brambles, and you shall see that you have not so bad a portion as you imagine." Though he did not build very much upon what the cat said, he had however often seen him play a great many cunning tricks to catch rats and mice: as when he used to hang by the heels, or hide himself in the meal, and make as if he were dead; so that he did not altogether despair of his affording him some help in his miserable condition. When the cat had what he asked for, he booted himself very gallantly; and putting the bag about his neck, held the strings of it in his two fore paws, and went into a warren where there was a great abundance of rabbits. He put bran and sow-thistles into the bag, and stretching himself out at length, as if he had been dead, he waited for some young rabbits not yet acquainted with the deceits of the world, to come and rummage his bag for what he had put into it.
The poor young guy was feeling pretty down about his situation. "My brothers," he said, "might manage to get by just fine by pooling their resources, but as for me, once I’ve eaten my cat and made a muff out of his skin, I’ll be left starving." The cat, who heard all this but acted like he didn’t, said to him in a serious tone, "Don’t be so upset, my good master; all you need to do is give me a bag and get me a pair of boots made so I can run through the dirt and thorns, and you'll see that your situation isn't as bad as you think." Although he didn’t put much faith in what the cat said, he had often watched him pull off clever tricks to catch rats and mice—like hanging upside down or hiding in the flour and pretending to be dead—so he didn’t completely give up hope that the cat could help him out of his tough spot. Once the cat got what he needed, he suited up in his boots and strapped the bag around his neck, holding the strings with his front paws. He then went into a rabbit warren where there were lots of rabbits. He filled the bag with bran and sow-thistles, and stretched out as if he were dead, waiting for some young rabbits who didn’t know the tricks of the world yet to come and rummage through his bag for what he had inside.
Scarce was he laid down, but he had what he wanted; a rash and foolish young rabbit jumped into his bag, and Monsieur Puss immediately drawing the strings close, took and killed him without pity. Proud of his prey, he went with it into the palace, and asked to speak with his majesty. He was shown upstairs into the king's apartment, and, making a low reverence, said to him, "I have brought you, Sire, a rabbit of the warren, which my noble lord, the Marquis of Carabas (for that was the title which Puss was pleased to give his master), has commanded me to present to your majesty from him." "Tell thy master," said the king, "that I thank him, and he does me a great deal of pleasure."
As soon as he settled down, he got what he wanted; a reckless young rabbit jumped into his bag, and Monsieur Puss quickly pulled the strings tight, caught and killed him without mercy. Proud of his catch, he went to the palace and requested to speak with the king. He was taken upstairs to the king's chambers, and after bowing deeply, he said, "I've brought you, Your Majesty, a rabbit from the warren, which my esteemed lord, the Marquis of Carabas (that’s the title Puss decided to give his master), has asked me to present to you on his behalf." "Tell your master," the king replied, "that I appreciate it, and it brings me great pleasure."
Another time he went and hid himself amongst some standing corn, holding his bag open; and when a brace of partridges ran into it, he drew the strings, and so caught them both. He went and made a present of these to the king, as he had done before of the rabbit. The king received the partridges with great pleasure, and ordered him some money for drink.
Another time, he went and hid himself among some standing corn, holding his bag open. When a couple of partridges ran into it, he pulled the strings and caught both of them. He went and presented these to the king, just like he had with the rabbit before. The king was very pleased to receive the partridges and ordered him some money for drinks.
The cat continued, for two or three months, to carry game to his majesty. One day in particular, when he knew that the king was to take the air along the river side, with his daughter, the most beautiful princess in the world, he said to his master, "If you will follow my advice, your fortune is made; you have nothing else to do, but go and wash yourself in the river, in that part I shall show you, and leave the rest to me." The Marquis of Carabas did what the cat advised, without knowing why or wherefore.
The cat kept bringing game to his majesty for two or three months. One day in particular, knowing that the king was going to take a stroll by the river with his daughter, who was the most beautiful princess in the world, he said to his master, "If you follow my advice, you'll be set for life; all you have to do is go wash yourself in the river at the spot I'll show you, and leave the rest to me." The Marquis of Carabas did what the cat suggested, not really understanding why or how.
While he was washing, the king passed by, and the cat began to cry out, as loud as he could, "Help, help! my Lord Marquis of Carabas is going to be drowned!" At this noise the king put his head out of the coach-window, and finding it was the cat who had so often brought him such good game, he commanded the guards to run immediately to the assistance of his lordship, the Marquis of Carabas.
While he was washing, the king drove by, and the cat started shouting as loud as he could, "Help, help! My Lord Marquis of Carabas is going to drown!" At this commotion, the king leaned out of the coach window, and seeing it was the cat who had often brought him such great catches, he ordered the guards to rush immediately to help his lordship, the Marquis of Carabas.
While they were drawing the poor marquis out of the river, the cat came up to the coach and told the king, that, while his master was washing, there came by some rogues who went off with his clothes, though he had cried out, "Thieves! thieves!" several times, as loud as he could. This cunning cat had hidden them under a great stone. The king immediately commanded the officers of his wardrobe to run and fetch one of his best suits for the Lord Marquis of Carabas.
While they were pulling the poor marquis out of the river, the cat approached the coach and informed the king that while his master was washing, some thieves passed by and took his clothes, even though he shouted, "Thieves! Thieves!" several times as loudly as he could. This clever cat had hidden the clothes under a large stone. The king promptly ordered his wardrobe officers to go and get one of his best suits for the Lord Marquis of Carabas.
The king caressed him after a very extraordinary manner, and as the fine clothes he had given him extremely set off his good mien (for he was well-made and very handsome in his person), the king's daughter took a secret inclination to him, and the Marquis of Carabas had no sooner cast two or three respectful and tender glances, but she fell in love with him to distraction; and the king would have him come into his coach. The cat, overjoyed to see his project begin to succeed, marched on before, and meeting with some countrymen who were mowing a meadow, he said to them, "Good people, if you do not tell the king that the meadow you mow belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you shall be chopped as small as herbs for the pot."
The king affectionately touched him in a very unique way, and the fine clothes he had given him only highlighted his good looks (since he was well-built and quite handsome), which made the king's daughter secretly develop a liking for him. As soon as the Marquis of Carabas threw a couple of respectful and tender glances her way, she fell head over heels in love with him; the king then invited him to travel in his carriage. The cat, thrilled to see his plan starting to take shape, walked ahead and encountered some farmers who were cutting grass in a meadow. He said to them, "Good folks, if you don't tell the king that the meadow you're mowing belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you'll be chopped up as small as herbs for the pot."
The king did not fail to ask the mowers to whom the meadow they were mowing belonged. "To my Lord Marquis of Carabas," answered they all together; for the cat's threats had made them terribly afraid. "You see, sir," said the marquis, "this is a meadow that never fails to yield a plentiful harvest every year." The cat, who still went on before, met with some reapers, and said to them, "Good people, you who are reaping, if you do not tell the king that all this corn belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you shall be chopped as small as herbs for the pot." The king, who passed by a moment after, would needs know to whom all that corn did belong. "To my Lord Marquis of Carabas," replied the reapers; and the king was very well pleased with it, as well as the marquis, whom he congratulated thereupon. The master cat went always before, saying the same words to all he met; and the king was astonished at the vast estates of my Lord Marquis of Carabas. Monsieur Puss came at last to a stately castle, the master of which was an ogre, the richest that had ever been known; for all the lands the king had then gone over belonged to him; the cat, having taken care to inform himself who this ogre was, and what he could do, asked to speak to him, saying, "He could not pass so near his castle, without having the honour of paying his respects to him."
The king didn’t hesitate to ask the mowers who owned the meadow they were cutting. "It belongs to my Lord Marquis of Carabas," they all replied at once, terrified by the cat's threats. "You see, sir," said the marquis, "this is a meadow that always produces a plentiful harvest each year." The cat, continuing on, encountered some reapers and told them, "Good people, as you’re harvesting, if you don’t tell the king that all this grain belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you’ll be chopped up like herbs for the pot." When the king passed by shortly after, he wanted to know who owned all that grain. "It belongs to my Lord Marquis of Carabas," the reapers answered, which pleased both the king and the marquis, who congratulated each other on it. The clever cat kept moving ahead, saying the same thing to everyone he met, and the king was amazed by the great lands of my Lord Marquis of Carabas. Eventually, Monsieur Puss arrived at an impressive castle owned by an ogre, the richest ever known; all the lands the king had passed through belonged to him. After finding out who this ogre was and what he could do, the cat requested an audience, saying, "I couldn’t pass so close to your castle without having the honor of paying my respects to you."
The ogre received him as civilly as an ogre could do, and made him sit down. "I have been assured," said the cat, "that you have the gift of being able to change yourself into all sorts of creatures you have a mind to; you can, for example, transform yourself into a lion or elephant, and the like." "This is true," answered the ogre, very briskly, "and to convince you, you shall see me now become a lion." Puss was so sadly terrified at the sight of a lion so near him, that he immediately got into the gutter, not without great trouble and danger, because of his boots, which were of no use at all to him in walking upon the tiles. A little while after, when Puss saw that the ogre had resumed his natural form, he came down, and owned that he had been very much frightened.
The ogre welcomed him as politely as an ogre could and invited him to sit down. "I've been told," said the cat, "that you can change into all kinds of creatures you want; for example, you can turn into a lion or an elephant, and so on." "That's true," the ogre replied quickly, "and to prove it, you'll see me become a lion now." Puss was so terrified to see a lion so close that he immediately jumped into the gutter, not without a lot of trouble and danger because of his boots, which were useless for walking on the tiles. A little later, when Puss noticed the ogre had gone back to his normal form, he came down and admitted that he had been very scared.
"I have been moreover informed," said the cat, "but I know not how to believe it, that you have also the power to take upon you the smallest animals, for example, to change yourself into a rat or a mouse, but I must own to you, I take this to be impossible." "Impossible!" cried the ogre, "you shall see that presently;" and at the same time changed himself into a mouse, and began to run about the floor. Puss no sooner perceived this, but he fell upon him, and eat him up.
"I've also heard," said the cat, "but I'm not sure how much to believe it, that you can turn into the tiniest animals, like a rat or a mouse. Honestly, I think that's impossible." "Impossible!" shouted the ogre, "you'll see!" And with that, he transformed himself into a mouse and started running around the floor. As soon as Puss noticed this, he pounced on him and ate him up.
Meanwhile the king, who saw as he passed this fine castle of the ogre's, had a mind to go into it. Puss, who heard the noise of his majesty's coach running over the drawbridge, ran out, and said to the king, "Your majesty is welcome to this castle of the Lord Marquis of Carabas." "What! my lord marquis," cried the king, "and does this castle also belong to you? there can be nothing finer than this court, and all the stately buildings which surround it: let us go into it, if you please."
Meanwhile, the king, who noticed the impressive castle of the ogre as he passed by, wanted to check it out. Puss, hearing the sound of the king's coach crossing the drawbridge, ran out and said to the king, "Your majesty is welcome to this castle of the Lord Marquis of Carabas." "What! My lord marquis," exclaimed the king, "and does this castle belong to you too? There’s nothing more magnificent than this courtyard and all the grand buildings around it: let's go inside, if you don’t mind."
The king went up first, the marquis, handing the princess, following; they passed into a spacious hall, where they found a magnificent collation the ogre had prepared for his friends, who dared not enter, knowing the king was there. His majesty was perfectly charmed with the good qualities of the marquis, and his daughter was violently in love with him. The king, after having drank five or six glasses, said to him, "My lord marquis, you will be only to blame, if you are not my son-in-law." The marquis, making several low bows, accepted the honour his majesty conferred upon him, and forthwith the very same day married the princess.
The king went up first, with the marquis accompanying him, leading the princess behind; they entered a large hall, where they found a magnificent spread the ogre had prepared for his friends, who didn’t dare come in, knowing the king was there. His majesty was completely taken with the marquis's good qualities, and his daughter was deeply in love with him. After having a few glasses, the king said to him, “My lord marquis, it will be entirely your fault if you are not my son-in-law.” The marquis, bowing several times, accepted the honor bestowed upon him, and that very same day, he married the princess.
Puss became a great lord, and never ran after mice any more but only for his diversion.
Puss became a great lord and no longer chased mice, except for fun.
JACK AND THE GIANTS.
[The present copy of this tale is taken, with a few necessary alterations, from the original editions, which differ very considerably from the modern versions; and it is worthy of preservation in its antique costume, for the story is undoubtedly of Teutonic origin. "Jack, commonly called the Giant Killer," says Sir W. Scott, "and Thomas Thumb landed in England from the very same keels and war-ships which conveyed Hengist and Horsa, and Ebba the Saxon." One incident in the romance exactly corresponds to a device played by the giant Skrimner, when he and Thor travelled to Utgard Castle, related in the Edda of Snorro. Skrimner placed an immense rock on the leafy couch where Thor supposed he was sleeping, and when the latter, desiring to rid himself of his companion, heard the giant snore, he struck the rock with his tremendous hammer, thinking it was the monster's head. "Hath a leaf fallen upon me from the tree?" exclaimed the awakened giant. He went to sleep again, and snoring louder than ever, Thor gave a blow which he thought must have cracked his skull. "What is the matter?" quoth Skrimner, "hath an acorn fallen on my head?" A third time the snore was heard, and a third time the hammer fell with redoubled force, insomuch that Thor weened the iron had buried itself in Skrimner's temples. "Methinks," quoth the giant, rubbing his cheek, "some moss hath fallen on my face!" Jack's invisible coat, his magic sword, and his shoes of swiftness, are also undoubtedly borrowed from Northern romance. [20]
[The current version of this story has been adapted, with a few necessary changes, from the original editions, which are quite different from modern adaptations; it's important to preserve its traditional style because the story clearly has Teutonic roots. "Jack, commonly known as the Giant Killer," says Sir W. Scott, "and Thomas Thumb arrived in England on the same ships that brought Hengist and Horsa, and Ebba the Saxon." One event in the tale directly reflects a trick used by the giant Skrimner when he and Thor traveled to Utgard Castle, as described in the Edda of Snorro. Skrimner laid a huge rock on the leafy bed where Thor thought he was resting, and when Thor, wanting to get rid of his companion, heard the giant snoring, he struck the rock with his massive hammer, believing it to be the monster's head. "Did a leaf fall on me from the tree?" the awakened giant exclaimed. He went back to sleep, and snoring louder than ever, Thor hit the rock again, thinking he must have cracked his skull. "What’s going on?" asked Skrimner, "Did an acorn fall on my head?" They heard the snort again, and for the third time, the hammer struck down with even greater force, so hard that Thor thought the iron must have embedded itself in Skrimner's temples. "I think," said the giant, rubbing his cheek, "some moss has fallen on my face!" Jack’s invisible coat, magic sword, and speedy shoes were certainly inspired by Northern tales. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
An incident very similar to the blows with the rat's tail occurs in the story of the Brave Little Tailor, in Grimm; who outwits a giant in several ingenious ways, one of which may be described. On one occasion the giant wished to try the strength of the tailor, by challenging him to carry a tree. The latter said, "Very well, you carry the butt-end, while I will carry all the branches, by far the heaviest part of the tree." So the giant lifted the tree up on his shoulders, and the tailor very coolly sat on the branches while the giant carried the tree. At length he was so tired with his load, he was obliged to drop it, and the tailor, nimbly jumping off, made belief as if he had been carrying the branches all the time, and said: "A pretty fellow you are, that can't carry a tree!"
An incident very similar to the blows with the rat's tail occurs in the story of the Brave Little Tailor in Grimm; who outsmarts a giant in several clever ways, one of which can be described. One time, the giant wanted to test the tailor's strength by challenging him to carry a tree. The tailor replied, "Sure, you take the trunk while I’ll carry all the branches, which are definitely the heaviest part of the tree." So the giant hoisted the tree onto his shoulders, and the tailor casually sat on the branches while the giant carried the tree. Eventually, the giant got so tired of the load that he had to drop it, and the tailor quickly jumped off, pretending he had been carrying the branches the whole time, and said: "What a pretty good guy you are, who can't carry a tree!"
The edition of Jack the Giant-killer here used was printed at Newcastle-on-Tyne in 1711. The earliest in the British Museum is dated 1809, nor does the Bodleian, I believe, contain a copy of a more ancient type.
The version of Jack the Giant-killer used here was printed in Newcastle-on-Tyne in 1711. The earliest one in the British Museum is dated 1809, and I don't think the Bodleian has a copy of an older version.
Jack and the Bean-stalk may be added to the series of English nursery-tales derived from the Teutonic. The bean-stalk is a descendant of the wonderful ash in the Edda. The distich put into the mouth of the giant,
Jack and the Bean-stalk can be included in the collection of English nursery tales that come from the Teutonic tradition. The bean-stalk is related to the magical ash tree mentioned in the Edda. The couplet spoken by the giant,
Snouk but, snouk ben,I find the smell of earthly men;is, says Scott, scarcely inferior to the keen-scented anthropophaginian in Jack the Giant-killer.]
is, says Scott, barely less impressive than the sharp-scented cannibal in Jack the Giant-killer.]
| [20] | The last is also found in the second relation of Ssidi Kur, a Calmuck romance. |
In the reign of King Arthur, and in the county of Cornwall, near to the Land's End of England, there lived a wealthy farmer, who had an only son named Jack. He was brisk, and of a lively ready wit, so that whatever he could not perform by force and strength, he accomplished by ingenious wit and policy. Never was any person heard of that could worst him, and he very often even baffled the learned by his sharp and ready inventions.
In the time of King Arthur, in Cornwall, close to England's Land's End, there lived a rich farmer who had one son named Jack. He was lively and quick-witted, so whatever he couldn't do with strength, he managed to achieve through cleverness and strategy. No one had ever been able to outsmart him, and he often outwitted even the educated with his sharp and quick ideas.
In those days the Mount of Cornwall was kept by a huge and monstrous giant of eighteen feet in height, and about three yards in compass, of a fierce and grim countenance, the terror of all the neighbouring towns and villages. He inhabited a cave in the middle of the mount, and he was such a selfish monster that he would not suffer any one to live near him. He fed on other men's cattle, which often became his prey, for whensoever he wanted food, he would wade over to the main land, where he would furnish himself with whatever came in his way. The inhabitants, at his approach, forsook their habitations, while he seized on their cattle, making nothing of carrying half-a-dozen oxen on his back at a time; and as for their sheep and hogs, he would tie them round his waist like a bunch of bandoleers. [21] This course he had followed for many years, so that a great part of the county was impoverished by his depredations.
In those days, a massive and terrifying giant, eighteen feet tall and about three yards around, guarded the Mount of Cornwall. With a fierce and grim face, he instilled fear in all the surrounding towns and villages. He lived in a cave at the center of the mount, and he was such a selfish creature that he wouldn't allow anyone to live nearby. He feasted on the livestock of others, which often fell victim to him. Whenever he needed food, he would wade over to the mainland, taking whatever he could find. The locals would flee their homes at his approach, while he would snatch their cattle, effortlessly carrying half a dozen oxen on his back at once. As for their sheep and pigs, he would strap them around his waist like a set of bandoleers. [21] He had followed this routine for many years, leaving much of the county impoverished due to his raids.
| [21] | Bandoleers were little wooden cases covered with leather, each of them containing the charge of powder for a musket, and fastened to a broad band of leather, which the person who was to use them put round his neck. |
This was the state of affairs, when Jack, happening one day to be present at the town-hall when the authorities were consulting about the giant, had the curiosity to ask what reward would be given to the person who destroyed him. The giant's treasure was declared as the recompense, and Jack at once undertook the task.
This was the situation when Jack, one day attending a meeting at the town hall where the officials were discussing the giant, curiously asked what reward would be given to the person who defeated him. They announced that the giant's treasure would be the reward, and Jack immediately took on the challenge.
In order to accomplish his purpose, he furnished himself with a horn, shovel, and pickaxe, and went over to the Mount in the beginning of a dark winter's evening, when he fell to work, and before morning had dug a pit twenty-two feet deep, and nearly as broad, covering it over with long sticks and straw. Then strewing a little mould upon it, it appeared like plain ground. This accomplished, Jack placed himself on the side of the pit which was furthest from the giant's lodging, and, just at the break of day, he put the horn to his mouth, and blew with all his might, Although Jack was a little fellow, and the powers of his voice are not described as being very great, he managed to make noise enough to arouse the giant, and excite his indignation. The monster accordingly rushed from his cave, exclaiming, "You incorrigible villain, are you come here to disturb my rest? you shall pay dearly for this. Satisfaction I will have, for I will take you whole and broil you for breakfast." He had no sooner uttered this cruel threat, than tumbling into the pit, he made the very foundations of the Mount ring again. "Oh, giant," said Jack, "where are you now? Oh faith, you are gotten now into Lob's Pound, [22] where I will surely plague you for your threatening words: what do you think now of broiling me for your breakfast? will no other diet serve you but poor Jack?" Thus did little Jack tantalize the big giant, as a cat does a mouse when she knows it cannot escape, and when he had tired of that amusement, he gave him a heavy blow with his pickaxe on the very crown of his head, which "tumbled him down," and killed him on the spot. When Jack saw he was dead, he filled up the pit with earth, and went to search the cave, which he found contained much treasure. The magistrates, in the exuberance of their joy, did not add to Jack's gains from their own, but after the best and cheapest mode of payment, made a declaration he should henceforth be termed Jack the Giant-killer, and presented him with a sword and embroidered belt, on the latter of which were inscribed these words in letters of gold:
To achieve his goal, he got himself a horn, shovel, and pickaxe, and went to the mountain at the start of a dark winter evening. He got to work and before morning, had dug a pit that was twenty-two feet deep and almost as wide, covering it with long sticks and straw. After sprinkling a bit of dirt on it, it looked like regular ground. Once this was done, Jack positioned himself on the edge of the pit farthest from the giant's home, and right at dawn, he put the horn to his lips and blew with all his strength. Even though Jack was a small guy and wasn't known for having a powerful voice, he managed to make enough noise to wake the giant and make him angry. The giant stormed out of his cave, shouting, "You incorrigible villain, have you come here to disturb my rest? You’ll pay dearly for this. I want satisfaction; I will take you whole and roast you for breakfast!" No sooner had he made this cruel threat than he fell into the pit, making the very foundations of the mountain shake. "Oh, giant," said Jack, "where are you now? Oh, my, you've ended up in Lob's Pound, [22] where I will surely make you pay for your threatening words: what do you think now about roasting me for your breakfast? Is poor Jack the only meal you want?" Thus, little Jack taunted the big giant, like a cat does with a mouse it knows can’t get away. When he got bored of that, he dealt the giant a heavy blow with his pickaxe right on the top of his head, which "tumbled him down," and killed him instantly. When Jack saw he was dead, he filled the pit with dirt and went to search the cave, which he discovered had a lot of treasure. The local magistrates, overflowing with joy, didn’t contribute from their own wealth to Jack’s earnings, but instead declared that he would henceforth be called Jack the Giant-killer, and presented him with a sword and an embroidered belt, on which were inscribed these words in gold letters:
Here’s the brave Cornish man,Who killed the giant Cormelian.
| [22] | An old jocular term for a prison, or any place of confinement. |
The news of Jack's victory, as might be expected, soon spread over all the West of England, so that another giant, named Thunderbore, hearing of it, and entertaining a partiality for his race, vowed to be revenged on the little hero, if ever it was his fortune to light on him. This giant was the lord of an enchanted castle, situated in the midst of a lonely wood. Now Jack, about four months after his last exploit, walking near this castle in his journey towards Wales, being weary, seated himself near a pleasant fountain in the wood, "o'ercanopied with luscious woodbine," and presently fell asleep. While he was enjoying his repose, the giant, coming to the fountain for water, of course discovered him, and recognised the hated individual by the lines written on the belt. He immediately took Jack on his shoulders, and carried him towards his enchanted castle. Now, as they passed through a thicket, the rustling of the boughs awakened Jack, who was uncomfortably surprised to find himself in the clutches of the giant. His terror was not diminished when, on entering the castle, he saw the court-yard strewed with human bones, the giant maliciously telling him his own would ere long increase the hateful pile. After this assurance, the cannibal locked poor Jack in an upper chamber, leaving him there while he went to fetch another giant living in the same wood to keep him company in the anticipated destruction of their enemy. While he was gone, dreadful shrieks and lamentations affrighted Jack, especially a voice which continually cried,—
The news of Jack's victory, as you might expect, quickly spread throughout all of the West of England. Another giant, called Thunderbore, heard about it and, being fond of his kind, promised to take revenge on the little hero if he ever got the chance. This giant was the master of an enchanted castle located in the middle of a lonely forest. About four months after his last adventure, Jack was walking near this castle on his way to Wales. Feeling tired, he sat down by a lovely fountain in the woods, covered with beautiful vines, and soon fell asleep. While he was resting, the giant came to the fountain for water, spotted him, and recognized the despised figure by the markings on his belt. Without hesitation, he picked Jack up and carried him toward his enchanted castle. As they went through some underbrush, the rustling branches woke Jack up, and he was alarmed to find himself in the giant's grip. His fear only grew when, upon entering the castle, he saw the courtyard littered with human bones, the giant cruelly telling him that his own would soon add to the gruesome heap. After this dreadful confirmation, the cannibal locked up poor Jack in an upper room, leaving him there while he went to get another giant from the same forest to join him in the planned destruction of their enemy. While he was away, terrifying screams and cries echoed around Jack, especially a voice that kept calling—
Do whatever you can to escape,Or you'll end up as the giant's victim;He's gone to get his brother, whoWill kill you and also torture you.
This warning, and the hideous tone in which it was delivered, almost distracted poor Jack, who going to the window, and opening a casement, beheld afar off the two giants approaching towards the castle. "Now," quoth Jack to himself, "my death or my deliverance is at hand." The event proved that his anticipations were well founded, for the giants of those days, however powerful, were at best very stupid fellows, and readily conquered by stratagem, were it of the humblest kind. There happened to be strong cords in the room in which Jack was confined, two of which he took, and made a strong noose at the end of each; and while the giant was unlocking the iron gate of the castle, he threw the ropes over each of their heads, and then, before the giants knew what he was about, he drew the other ends across a beam, and, pulling with all his might, throttled them till they were black in the face. Then, sliding down the rope, he came to their heads, and as they could not defend themselves, easily despatched them with his sword. This business so adroitly accomplished, Jack released the fair prisoners in the castle, delivered the keys to them, and, like a true knight-errant, continued his journey without condescending to improve the condition of his purse.
This warning, and the awful way it was delivered, almost threw Jack off course. He went to the window, opened it, and saw the two giants approaching the castle in the distance. "Now," Jack thought to himself, "my death or freedom is coming." It turned out his fears were justified, because the giants of that time, no matter how strong, were pretty foolish and could be easily defeated, even by the simplest trick. There were strong ropes in the room where Jack was locked up, so he took two of them and made a strong loop at the end of each. While the giant was unlocking the iron gate of the castle, he threw the ropes over each giant's head, and before they realized what was happening, he pulled the other ends across a beam and, using all his strength, choked them until their faces turned purple. Then he slid down the rope, approached their heads, and since they couldn’t defend themselves, he quickly finished them off with his sword. Once this was skillfully done, Jack freed the beautiful prisoners in the castle, handed them the keys, and like a true knight, continued his journey without bothering to improve his financial situation.
This plan, however honorable, was not without its disadvantages, and owing to his slender stock of money, he was obliged to make the best of his way by travelling as hard as he could. At length, losing his road, he was belated, and could not get to any place of entertainment until, coming to a lonesome valley, he found a large house, and by reason of his present necessity, took courage to knock at the gate. But what was his astonishment, when there came forth a monstrous giant with two heads; yet he did not appear so fiery as the others were, for he was a Welsh giant, and what he did was by private and secret malice under the false show of friendship. Jack having unfolded his condition to the giant, was shown into a bedroom, where, in the dead of night, he heard his host in another apartment uttering these formidable words:
This plan, while admirable, had its drawbacks, and due to his limited funds, he had to make the best of it by traveling as quickly as possible. Eventually, he lost his way and found himself out late, unable to reach any place to stay until he stumbled upon a lonely valley with a large house. Given his urgent need, he mustered the courage to knock on the gate. To his shock, a huge giant with two heads emerged. However, he didn't seem as fierce as the others; he was a Welsh giant, and his actions were driven by secret malice disguised as friendship. After Jack explained his situation to the giant, he was shown to a bedroom, where, in the dead of night, he overheard his host in another room saying these intimidating words:
Even though you're staying with me tonight,You won't see the morning light:My club will smash your brains out!
"Say'st thou so," quoth Jack; "that is like one of your Welsh tricks, yet I hope to be cunning enough for you." He immediately got out of bed, and, feeling about in the dark, found a thick billet of wood, which he laid in the bed in his stead, and hid himself in a dark corner of the room. Shortly after he had done so, in came the Welsh giant, who thoroughly pummelled the billet with his club, thinking, naturally enough, he had broken every bone in Jack's skin. The next morning, however, to the inexpressible surprise of the giant, Jack came down stairs as if nothing had happened, and gave him thanks for his night's lodging. "How have you rested," quoth the giant; "did you not feel anything in the night?" Jack provokingly replied, "No, nothing but a rat which gave me two or three flaps with her tail." This reply was totally incomprehensible to the giant, who of course saw anything but a joke in it. However, concealing his amazement as well as he could, he took Jack in to breakfast, assigning to each a bowl containing four gallons of hasty pudding. One would have thought that the greater portion of so extravagant an allowance would have been declined by our hero, but he was unwilling the giant should imagine his incapability to eat it, and accordingly placed a large leather bag under his loose coat, in such a position that he could convey the pudding into it without the deception being perceived. Breakfast at length being finished, Jack excited the giant's curiosity by offering to show him an extraordinary sleight of hand; so taking a knife, he ripped the leather bag, and out of course descended on the ground all the hasty pudding. The giant had not the slightest suspicion of the trick, veritably believing the pudding came from its natural receptacle; and having the same antipathy to being beaten, exclaimed in true Welsh, "Odds splutters, hur can do that trick hurself." The sequel may be readily guessed. The monster took the knife, and thinking to follow Jack's example with impunity, killed himself on the spot. [23]
“Is that so?” said Jack. “That sounds like one of your Welsh tricks, but I hope I’m clever enough for you.” He immediately got out of bed and, feeling around in the dark, found a thick piece of wood, which he placed in the bed in his place and hid himself in a dark corner of the room. Shortly after, the Welsh giant came in and thoroughly smashed the wood with his club, naturally thinking he had broken every bone in Jack’s body. The next morning, however, to the giant's utter surprise, Jack came downstairs as if nothing had happened and thanked him for his night’s lodging. “How did you sleep?” asked the giant. “Did you feel anything during the night?” Jack teasingly replied, “No, just a rat that gave me a couple of whacks with her tail.” This response made no sense to the giant, who obviously didn’t see it as a joke. However, trying to hide his astonishment as best he could, he invited Jack to breakfast, serving each of them a bowl containing four gallons of hasty pudding. One might have thought that our hero would refuse such an extravagant portion, but he didn’t want the giant to think he couldn’t eat it. Instead, he placed a large leather bag under his loose coat so he could secretly stash the pudding without getting caught. Once breakfast was done, Jack piqued the giant's curiosity by offering to demonstrate an amazing sleight of hand. He took a knife, ripped open the leather bag, and all the hasty pudding spilled onto the ground. The giant had no idea it was a trick, truly believing the pudding came from its natural holder; and, not wanting to be outdone, he exclaimed in classic Welsh, “Goodness, I can do that trick myself!” The outcome is easy to imagine. The giant took the knife, trying to replicate Jack’s act with no consequences, and ended up hurting himself on the spot. [23]
| [23] | The foregoing portion of this wonderful history is that most generally known; but the incidents now become more complicated, and after the introduction of Arthur's son upon the scene, we arrive at particulars which have long been banished from the nursery library. |
King Arthur's only son requested his father to furnish him with a large sum of money, in order that he might go and seek his fortune in the principality of Wales, where lived a beautiful lady possessed with seven evil spirits. The king tried all he could do to persuade him to alter his determination, but it was all in vain, so at last he granted his request, and the prince set out with two horses, one loaded with money, the other for himself to ride upon. Now, after several days' travel, he came to a market-town in Wales, where he beheld a vast concourse of people gathered together. The prince demanded the reason of it, and was told that they had arrested a corpse for several large sums of money which the deceased owed when he died. The prince replied that it was a pity creditors should be so cruel, and said, "Go bury the dead, and let his creditors come to my lodging, and there their debts shall be discharged." They accordingly came, but in such great numbers, that before night he had almost left himself penniless.
King Arthur's only son asked his father for a large sum of money so he could go and seek his fortune in Wales, where a beautiful lady was troubled by seven evil spirits. The king tried everything he could to change his mind, but it was no use, so he eventually agreed to his request. The prince set off with two horses: one loaded with money and the other for him to ride. After several days of traveling, he arrived at a market town in Wales, where he saw a huge crowd gathered. The prince asked what was going on and was told that they had arrested a corpse over the substantial debts the deceased left behind. The prince replied that it was sad for creditors to be so cruel and said, "Go bury the dead, and let his creditors come to my place, and I will pay off their debts." They came, but in such massive numbers that by nightfall, he was almost left broke.
Now Jack the Giant-killer happened to be in the town while these transactions took place, and he was so pleased with the generosity exhibited by the prince, that he offered to become his servant, an offer which was immediately accepted. The next morning they set forward on their journey, when, as they were just leaving the town, an old woman called after the prince, saying, "He has owed me twopence these seven years; pray pay me as well as the rest." So reasonable and urgent a demand could not be resisted, and the prince immediately discharged the debt, but it took the last penny he had to accomplish it. This event, though generally ridiculed by heroes, was one by no means overlooked by the prince, who required all Jack's assuring eloquence to console him. Jack himself, indeed, had a very poor exchequer, and after their day's refreshment, they were entirely without money. When night drew on, the prince was anxious to secure a lodging, but as they had no means to hire one, Jack said, "Never mind, master, we shall do well enough, for I have an uncle lives within two miles of this place; he is a huge and monstrous giant with three heads; he'll fight five hundred men in armour, and make them flee before him." "Alas!" quoth the prince, "what shall we do there? He'll certainly chop us up at a mouthful. Nay, we are scarce enough to fill his hollow tooth!" "It is no matter for that," quoth Jack; "I myself will go before, and prepare the way for you; therefore tarry and wait till I return." Jack then rides off full speed, and coming to the gate of the castle, he knocked so loud that the neighbouring hills resounded like thunder. The giant, terribly vexed with the liberty taken by Jack, roared out, "Who's there?" He was answered, "None but your poor cousin Jack." Quoth he, "What news with my poor cousin Jack?" He replied, "Dear uncle, heavy news." "God wot," quoth the giant, "prithee what heavy news can come to me? I am a giant with three heads, and besides thou knowest I can fight five hundred men in armour, and make them fly like chaff before the wind." "Oh, but," quoth Jack, "here's the prince a-coming with a thousand men in armour to kill you, and destroy all that you have!" "Oh, cousin Jack," said the giant, "this is heavy news indeed! I will immediately run and hide myself, and thou shalt lock, bolt, and bar me in, and keep the keys till the prince is gone." Jack joyfully complied with the giant's request, and fetching his master, they feasted and made themselves merry whilst the poor giant laid trembling in a vault under ground.
Now, Jack the Giant-killer happened to be in town while all this was going on, and he was really impressed by the prince's generosity, so he offered to be his servant, which the prince quickly accepted. The next morning, they set off on their journey, and as they were leaving town, an old woman shouted after the prince, saying, "He's owed me two pence for seven years; please pay me like everyone else." Such a reasonable and urgent request couldn't be ignored, so the prince paid off the debt, but it wiped out the last of his money. Although heroes usually mocked such things, the prince took it seriously, needing all of Jack's comforting words to reassure him. Jack himself was pretty short on cash too, and after they had their meal, they were completely broke. When night came, the prince was worried about finding a place to stay, but since they couldn't afford one, Jack said, "Don't worry, boss, we'll be fine. I have an uncle who lives just two miles away; he's a huge, terrifying giant with three heads. He can fight five hundred armed men and make them run for their lives." "Oh no!" said the prince, "What are we going to do there? He'll definitely eat us in one bite. We barely weigh enough to fill one of his teeth!" "That doesn't matter," replied Jack; "I'll go ahead and pave the way for you, so just wait for me to come back." Jack then rode off at full speed, and upon reaching the castle gate, he knocked so loudly that the nearby hills echoed like thunder. The giant, furious at Jack's boldness, roared, "Who's there?" He was answered, "Just your poor cousin Jack." The giant asked, "What news do you bring, my poor cousin Jack?" He replied, "Dear uncle, terrible news." "Good heavens," said the giant, "what terrible news could there be? I'm a giant with three heads, and you know I can fight five hundred armored men and send them flying like chaff." "Oh, but," Jack said, "the prince is coming with a thousand armored men to kill you and destroy everything you own!" "Oh, cousin Jack," the giant exclaimed, "this is indeed terrible news! I'll immediately run and hide, and you can lock, bolt, and bar me in, keeping the keys until the prince is gone." Jack happily agreed to the giant's request, and after fetching his master, they had a feast and enjoyed themselves while the poor giant trembled in a vault underground.
In the morning, Jack furnished the prince with a fresh supply of gold and silver, and then sent him three miles forward on his journey, concluding, according to the story-book, "he was then pretty well out of the smell of the giant." Jack afterwards returned, and liberated the giant from the vault, who asked what he should give him for preserving the castle from destruction. "Why," quoth Jack, "I desire nothing but the old coat and cap, together with the old rusty sword and slippers which are at your bed's head." Quoth the giant, "Thou shalt have them, and pray keep them for my sake, for they are things of excellent use; the coat will keep you invisible, the cap will furnish you with knowledge, the sword cuts asunder whatever you strike, and the shoes are of extraordinary swiftness. These may be serviceable to you: therefore take them with all my heart."
In the morning, Jack provided the prince with a new supply of gold and silver, and then sent him three miles ahead on his journey, finishing, according to the story, "he was then pretty much out of the giant's reach." Jack later returned and freed the giant from the vault, who asked what he should give him for saving the castle from destruction. "Well," Jack replied, "I only want the old coat and cap, along with the old rusty sword and slippers that are by your bedside." The giant said, "You shall have them, and please keep them for my sake, as they are very useful; the coat makes you invisible, the cap gives you knowledge, the sword cuts through whatever you strike, and the shoes are incredibly fast. These could be helpful to you: so take them with all my heart."
Jack was delighted with these useful presents, and having overtaken his master, they quickly arrived at the lady's house, who, finding the prince to be a suitor, prepared a splendid banquet for him. After the repast was concluded, she wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and then concealed it in her dress, saying, "You must show me that handkerchief to-morrow morning, or else you will lose your head." The prince went to bed in great sorrow at this hard condition, but fortunately Jack's cap of knowledge instructed him how it was to be fulfilled. In the middle of the night she called upon her familiar [24] to carry her to the evil spirit. Jack immediately put on his coat of darkness, and his shoes of swiftness, and was there before her, his coat rendering him invisible. When she entered the lower regions, she gave the handkerchief to the spirit, who laid it upon a shelf, whence Jack took it, and brought it to his master, who showed it to the lady the next day, and so saved his life. The next evening at supper she saluted the prince, telling him he must show her the lips tomorrow morning that she kissed last this night, or lose his head. He replied, "If you kiss none but mine, I will." "That is neither here nor there," said she, "if you do not, death is your portion!" At midnight she went below as before, and was angry with the spirit for letting the handkerchief go: "But now," quoth she, "I will be too hard for the prince, for I will kiss thee, and he is to show me thy lips." She did so, and Jack, who was standing by, cut off the spirit's head, and brought it under his invisible coat to his master, who produced it triumphantly the next morning before the lady. This feat destroyed the enchantment, the evil spirits immediately forsook her, and she appeared still more sweet and lovely, beautiful as she was before. They were married the next morning, and shortly afterwards went to the court of King Arthur, where Jack, for his eminent services, was created one of the knights of the Round Table.
Jack was thrilled with these helpful gifts, and after catching up with his master, they quickly arrived at the lady's house. Discovering that the prince was a suitor, she prepared a lavish feast for him. Once the meal was over, she wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and then hid it in her dress, saying, "You need to show me that handkerchief tomorrow morning, or you’ll lose your head." The prince went to bed feeling sorrowful about this tough requirement, but luckily Jack's cap of knowledge told him how to fulfill it. In the middle of the night, she summoned her familiar [24] to take her to the evil spirit. Jack quickly put on his coat of darkness and his shoes of swiftness, arriving there before her, his coat making him invisible. When she entered the underworld, she handed the handkerchief to the spirit, who placed it on a shelf. Jack grabbed it and brought it back to his master, who presented it to the lady the following day, saving his life. The next evening at dinner, she greeted the prince, stating that he must show her the lips she kissed that night, or he would lose his head. He replied, "If you kiss only mine, I will." "That’s not the point," she replied, "if you don’t, death is your fate!" At midnight, she went down as before and was angry with the spirit for allowing the handkerchief to be taken: "But now," she said, "I'll outsmart the prince by kissing you, and then he must show me your lips." She did just that, and Jack, who was nearby, cut off the spirit’s head and brought it back under his invisible coat to his master, who proudly displayed it the next morning before the lady. This act broke the enchantment, the evil spirits immediately abandoned her, and she appeared even sweeter and more beautiful than before. They got married the next morning and soon after went to the court of King Arthur, where Jack, for his outstanding services, was made one of the knights of the Round Table.
| [24] | An attendant spirit. |
Our hero, having been successful in all his undertakings, and resolving not to remain idle, but to perform what services he could for the honour of his country, humbly besought his majesty to fit him out with a horse and money to enable him to travel in search of new adventures; for, said he, "there are many giants yet living in the remote part of Wales, to the unspeakable damage of your majesty's subjects; wherefore may it please you to encourage me, I do not doubt but in a short time to cut them off root and branch, and so rid all the realm of those giants and monsters in human shape." We need scarcely say that Jack's generous offer was at once accepted. The king furnished him with the necessary accoutrements, and Jack set out with his magical cap, sword, and shoes, the better to perform the dangerous enterprises which now lay before him.
Our hero, having succeeded in everything he tried, and deciding not to stay idle but to do whatever he could for the honor of his country, humbly asked the king to equip him with a horse and money so he could travel in search of new adventures. He said, "There are still many giants living in the remote parts of Wales, causing tremendous harm to your subjects; so if you could support me, I’m confident that soon I will be able to eliminate them completely and free the entire realm from those giants and monsters in human form." It goes without saying that Jack's generous proposal was accepted right away. The king provided him with everything he needed, and Jack set out equipped with his magical cap, sword, and shoes, ready to tackle the dangerous challenges ahead.
After travelling over several hills and mountains, the country through which he passed offering many impediments to travellers, on the third day he arrived at a very large wood, which he had no sooner entered than his ears were assailed with piercing shrieks. Advancing softly towards the place where the cries appeared to proceed from, he was horror-struck at perceiving a huge giant dragging along a fair lady, and a knight her husband, by the hair of their heads, "with as much ease," says the original narrative, "as if they had been a pair of gloves." Jack shed tears of pity on the fate of this hapless couple, but not suffering his feelings to render him neglectful of action, he put on his invisible coat, and taking with him his infallible sword, succeeded, after considerable trouble, and many cuts, to despatch the monster, whose dying groans were so terrible, that they made the whole wood ring again. The courteous knight and his fair lady were overpowered with gratitude, and, after returning Jack their best thanks, they invited him to their residence, there to recruit his strength after the frightful encounter, and receive more substantial demonstrations of their obligations to him. Jack, however, declared that he would not rest until he had found out the giant's habitation. The knight, on hearing this determination, was very sorrowful, and replied, "Noble stranger, it is too much to run a second hazard: this monster lived in a den under yonder mountain, with a brother more fierce and cruel than himself. Therefore, if you should go thither, and perish in the attempt, it would be a heart-breaking to me and my lady: let me persuade you to go with us, and desist from any further pursuit." The knight's reasoning had the very opposite effect that was intended, for Jack, hearing of another giant, eagerly embraced the opportunity of displaying his skill, promising, however, to return to the knight when he had accomplished his second labour.
After traveling over several hills and mountains, facing many obstacles along the way, he finally arrived at a large forest on the third day. As soon as he entered, he was startled by loud, piercing screams. Moving cautiously toward the source of the noise, he was horrified to see a huge giant dragging a beautiful lady and her husband, a knight, by their hair, "with as much ease," according to the original account, "as if they were a pair of gloves." Jack was filled with pity for the unfortunate couple, but he didn't let his emotions stop him from taking action. He put on his invisible coat and grabbed his trusty sword, and after quite a struggle and a lot of fighting, he managed to defeat the monster. The giant's dying cries were so loud that they echoed throughout the entire forest. The grateful knight and his beautiful lady were overwhelmed with appreciation, and after thanking Jack profusely, they invited him to their home to recover his strength after the terrifying battle and to receive more tangible expressions of their gratitude. However, Jack insisted that he wouldn't rest until he found the giant's home. Hearing this, the knight felt very sad and replied, "Noble stranger, it's too dangerous to take that risk again: this monster lives in a cave under that mountain, with a brother who is even more fierce and cruel. So if you go there and end up in trouble, it would break my heart and my lady's: please let me convince you to come with us and give up this pursuit." The knight's plea had the opposite effect of what he intended, as Jack, hearing about another giant, eagerly took the chance to prove his skills, promising to return to the knight after completing his next challenge.
He had not ridden more than a mile and a half, when the cave mentioned by the knight appeared to view, near the entrance of which he beheld the giant, sitting upon a block of timber, with a knotted iron club by his side, waiting, as he supposed, for his brother's return with his barbarous prey. This giant is described as having "goggle eyes like flames of fire, a countenance grim and ugly, cheeks like a couple of large flitches of bacon, the bristles of his beard resembling rods of iron wire, and locks that hung down upon his brawny shoulders like curled snakes or hissing adders." Jack alighted from his horse, and putting on the invisible coat, approached near the giant, and said softly, "Oh! are you there? it will not be long ere I shall take you fast by the beard." The giant all this while could not see him, on account of his invisible coat, so that Jack, coming up close to the monster, struck a blow with his sword at his head, but unfortunately missing his aim, he cut off the nose instead. The giant, as we may suppose, "roared like claps of thunder," and began to lay about him in all directions with his iron club so desperately, that even Jack was frightened, but exercising his usual ingenuity, he soon despatched him. After this, Jack cut off the giant's head, and sent it, together with that of his brother, to King Arthur, by a waggoner he hired for that purpose, who gave an account of all his wonderful proceedings.
He had barely ridden a mile and a half when the cave mentioned by the knight came into view. Near the entrance, he saw the giant sitting on a block of wood, with a heavy iron club beside him, waiting, as he assumed, for his brother to return with his brutal catch. This giant was described as having "goggle eyes like flames of fire, a grim and ugly face, cheeks like two big slabs of bacon, a beard that was stiff like iron wires, and hair that hung down over his muscular shoulders like curled snakes or hissing adders." Jack got off his horse, put on the invisible coat, and approached the giant, saying softly, "Oh! Are you there? It won't be long before I grab you by the beard." The giant couldn't see him because of the invisible coat, so Jack got close and swung his sword at the giant's head, but unfortunately, he missed and ended up cutting off the giant's nose instead. The giant, as you can imagine, "roared like thunder" and started swinging his iron club wildly, which even scared Jack. However, using his usual cleverness, Jack quickly took care of him. After that, Jack decapitated the giant and sent his head, along with his brother's, to King Arthur by hiring a wagon driver who recounted all the amazing things that had happened.
The redoubtable Jack next proceeded to search the giant's cave in search of his treasure, and passing along through a great many winding passages, he came at length to a large room paved with freestone, at the upper end of which was a boiling caldron, and on the right hand a large table, at which the giants usually dined. After passing this dining-room, he came to a large and well-secured den filled with human captives, who were fattened and taken at intervals for food, as we do poultry. Jack set the poor prisoners at liberty, and, to compensate them for their sufferings and dreadful anticipations, shared the giant's treasure equally amongst them, and sent them to their homes overjoyed at their unexpected deliverance.
The formidable Jack then went on to explore the giant's cave looking for treasure, and after navigating many winding passages, he finally arrived at a large room with a stone floor. At one end, there was a boiling cauldron, and on the right side, a big table where the giants usually ate. After passing through this dining room, he found a large, well-secured den filled with human captives who were being fattened up and taken out at intervals for food, like poultry. Jack freed the poor prisoners and, to make up for their suffering and terrifying wait, shared the giant's treasure equally among them, sending them home thrilled at their unexpected rescue.
It was about sunrise when Jack, after the conclusion of this adventure, having had a good night's rest, mounted his horse to proceed on his journey, and, by the help of directions, reached the knight's house about noon. He was received with the most extraordinary demonstrations of joy, and his kind host, out of respect to Jack, prepared a feast which lasted many days, all the nobility and gentry in the neighbourhood being invited to it. The knight related the hero's adventures to his assembled guests, and presented him with a beautiful ring, on which was engraved a representation of the giant dragging the distressed knight and his lady, with this motto:
It was around sunrise when Jack, after finishing his adventure and getting a good night's sleep, got on his horse to continue his journey. With some help from directions, he reached the knight's house around noon. He was welcomed with incredible joy, and out of respect for Jack, his generous host prepared a feast that lasted for many days, inviting all the local nobility and gentry to join in. The knight shared the hero's adventures with his gathered guests and gifted him a beautiful ring, which had an image of the giant dragging the distressed knight and his lady, along with this motto:
We were in great trouble, you see,Under the giant's harsh control,But we gained our lives and freedomThanks to brave Jack's victorious hand.
But earthly happiness is not generally of long duration, and so in some respects it proved on the present occasion, for in the midst of the festivities arrived a messenger with the dismal intelligence that one Thunderdell, a giant with two heads, having heard of the death of his two kinsmen, came from the north to be revenged on Jack, and was already within a mile of the knight's house, the country people flying before him in all directions. The intelligence had no effect on the dauntless Jack, who immediately said, "Let him come! I have a tool to pick his teeth;" and with this elegant assertion, he invited the guests to witness his performance from a high terrace in the garden of the castle.
But happiness on Earth doesn’t usually last long, and in some ways, that was true this time. In the middle of the celebrations, a messenger arrived with the grim news that a two-headed giant named Thunderdell, having heard about the deaths of his two relatives, was coming from the north to take revenge on Jack and was already just a mile away from the knight's house, with the locals fleeing in all directions. The news didn’t faze the fearless Jack, who immediately declared, "Let him come! I have a tool to pick his teeth;" and with this confident statement, he invited the guests to watch him from a high terrace in the castle's garden.
It is now necessary to inform the reader that the knight's house or castle was situated in an island encompassed with a moat thirty feet deep, and twenty feet wide, passable by a drawbridge. Now Jack, intending to accomplish his purpose by a clever stratagem, employed men to cut through this drawbridge on both sides nearly to the middle; and then, dressing himself in his invisible coat, he marched against the giant with his well-tried sword. As he approached his adversary, although invisible, the giant, being, as it appears, an epicure in such matters, was aware of his approach, and exclaimed, in a fearful tone of voice—
It’s important to let the reader know that the knight's house or castle was located on an island surrounded by a moat that was thirty feet deep and twenty feet wide, which could be crossed by a drawbridge. Now, Jack, looking to achieve his goal through a clever plan, hired men to cut through the drawbridge on both sides almost to the middle. Then, putting on his invisible coat, he headed toward the giant with his trusty sword. As he got closer to his enemy, even though he was invisible, the giant, apparently being quite refined in such matters, sensed his approach and shouted in a terrified voice—
Fee, fi, fo, fum! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__I smell the blood of an Englishman!Whether he's alive or dead,I'll grind his bones to make my bread!
| [25] | These lines are quoted by Edgar in the tragedy of King Lear. |
"Say you so," said Jack; "then you are a monstrous miller indeed." The giant, deeply incensed, replied, "Art thou that villain who killed my kinsman? then I will tear thee with my teeth, and grind thy bones to powder." "But," says Jack, still provoking him, "you must catch me first, if you please:" so putting aside his invisible coat, so that the giant might see him, and putting on his wonderful shoes, he enticed him into a chase by just approaching near enough to give him an apparent chance of capture. The giant, we are told, "followed like a walking castle, so that the very foundations of the earth seemed to shake at every step." Jack led him a good distance, in order that the wondering guests at the castle might see him to advantage, but at last, to end the matter, he ran over the drawbridge, the giant pursuing him with his club; but coming to the place where the bridge was cut, the giant's great weight burst it asunder, and he was precipitated into the moat, where he rolled about, says the author, "like a vast whale." While the monster was in this condition, Jack sadly bantered him about the boast he had made of grinding his bones to powder, but at length, having teased him sufficiently, a cart-rope was cast over the two heads of the giant, and he was drawn ashore by a team of horses, where Jack served him as he had done his relatives, cut off his heads, and sent them to King Arthur.
"Is that so?" said Jack. "Then you really are a huge miller." The giant, furious, replied, "Are you the scoundrel who killed my relative? Then I'll tear you apart and grind your bones to dust." "But," Jack said, still egging him on, "you have to catch me first, if you can." He then took off his invisible coat so the giant could see him, and put on his special shoes, teasing the giant into a chase by getting close enough to make it seem like he could be caught. The giant, as they say, "followed like a moving castle, shaking the very ground with every step." Jack led him a good distance so the amazed guests at the castle could get a good look, but eventually, to finish it, he ran over the drawbridge with the giant right behind him swinging his club; however, when the giant reached the spot where the bridge was broken, his enormous weight caused it to collapse, sending him crashing into the moat where he floundered, "like a giant whale." While the monster was in this predicament, Jack mockingly reminded him of his boast about grinding bones to dust, but after enough teasing, a cart rope was thrown over the giant’s head, and a team of horses pulled him ashore, where Jack treated him the same way he had with his relatives, cutting off his heads and sending them to King Arthur.
It would seem that the giant-killer rested a short time after this adventure, but he was soon tired of inactivity, and again went in search of another giant, the last whose head he was destined to chop off. After passing a long distance, he came at length to a large mountain, at the foot of which was a very lonely house. Knocking at the door, it was opened by "an ancient [26] man, with a head as white as snow," who received Jack very courteously, and at once consented to his request for a lodging. Whilst they were at supper, the old man, who appears to have known more than was suspected, thus addressed the hero: "Son, I am sensible you are a conqueror of giants, and I therefore inform you that on the top of this mountain is an enchanted castle, maintained by a giant named Galligantus, who, by the help of a conjuror, gets many knights into his castle, where they are transformed into sundry shapes and forms: but, above all, I especially lament a duke's daughter, whom they took from her father's garden, bringing her through the air in a chariot drawn by fiery dragons, and securing her within the castle walls, transformed her into the shape of a hind. Now, though a great many knights have endeavoured to break the enchantment, and work her deliverance, yet no one has been able to accomplish it, on account of two fiery griffins which are placed at the gate, and which destroyed them at their approach; but you, my son, being furnished with an invisible coat, may pass by them undiscovered, and on the gates of the castle you will find engraven in large characters by what means the enchantment may be broken." The undaunted Jack at once accepted the commission, and pledged his faith to the old man to proceed early in the morning on this new adventure.
It seems that the giant-killer took a short break after this adventure, but he quickly got bored and set off again to find another giant, the last one he was destined to defeat. After traveling for a while, he finally reached a large mountain, at the base of which was a very lonely house. When he knocked on the door, it was opened by "an old [26] man, with a head as white as snow," who welcomed Jack warmly and agreed to his request for a place to stay. While they were having dinner, the old man, who seemed to know more than he let on, addressed the hero: "Son, I realize you are a giant slayer, and I need to tell you that on top of this mountain is an enchanted castle controlled by a giant named Galligantus. With the help of a sorcerer, he captures many knights and locks them in his castle, where they are transformed into various creatures. But most of all, I mourn for a duke's daughter, who was taken from her father's garden, brought through the air in a chariot pulled by fiery dragons, and secured within the castle walls, where she was turned into a doe. Many knights have tried to break the spell and rescue her, but no one has succeeded because of two fierce griffins guarding the gate, which killed them upon arrival. However, you, my son, have an invisible coat that will allow you to pass by them unnoticed, and on the castle gates, you will find large engravings on how to break the enchantment." The fearless Jack immediately accepted the challenge and promised the old man that he would set out early the next morning for this new adventure.
| [26] | An old man. |
In the morning, as soon as it was daylight, Jack put on his invisible coat, and prepared himself for the enterprise. When he had reached the top of the mountain, he discovered the two fiery griffins, but, being invisible, he passed them without the slightest danger. When he had reached the gate of the castle, he noticed a golden trumpet attached to it, under which were written in large characters the following lines:
In the morning, as soon as it got light, Jack put on his invisible coat and got ready for the adventure. When he reached the top of the mountain, he saw the two fiery griffins, but since he was invisible, he walked past them without any danger. When he got to the gate of the castle, he noticed a golden trumpet attached to it, beneath which were written in big letters the following lines:
Whoever blows this trumpet, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__Will soon defeat the giant,And break the dark spell right away,So everyone will be in a happy state.
| [27] | Variations of this incident are found in romances of all nations. |
Jack at once accepted the challenge, and putting the trumpet to his mouth, gave a blast that made the hills re-echo. The castle trembled to its foundations, and the giant and conjuror were overstricken with fear, knowing that the reign of their enchantments was at an end. The former was speedily slain by Jack, but the conjuror, mounting up into the air, was carried away in a whirlwind, and never heard of more. The enchantments were immediately broken, and all the lords and ladies, who had so long been cruelly transformed, were standing on the native earth in their natural shapes, the castle having vanished with the conjuror.
Jack immediately accepted the challenge, and putting the trumpet to his mouth, he blew a blast that echoed through the hills. The castle shook to its core, and both the giant and the magician were struck with fear, realizing that their time of enchantment was over. Jack quickly killed the giant, but the magician flew up into the air and was swept away by a whirlwind, never to be seen again. The enchantments were instantly lifted, and all the lords and ladies who had long suffered under cruel transformations were back on their native soil in their true forms, as the castle vanished along with the magician.
The only relic of the giant which was left was the head, which Jack cut off in the first instance, and which we must suppose rolled away from the influence of the enchanted castle, or it would have "vanished into thin air" with the body. It was fortunate that it did so, for it proved an inestimable trophy at the court of King Arthur, where Jack the Giant-killer was shortly afterwards united to the duke's daughter whom he had freed from enchantment, "not only to the joy of the court, but of all the kingdom." To complete his happiness, he was endowed with a noble house and estates, and his penchant for giant-killing having subsided, or, what is more probable, no more monsters appearing to interrupt his tranquillity, he accomplished the usual conclusion to these romantic narratives, by passing the remainder of his life in the enjoyment of every domestic felicity.
The only remnant of the giant that remained was the head, which Jack initially cut off, and we have to assume it rolled away from the enchanted castle's influence, or else it would have "vanished into thin air" along with the body. Luckily, it did, because it became a priceless trophy at King Arthur's court, where Jack the Giant-killer soon married the duke's daughter whom he had rescued from enchantment, "not only bringing joy to the court but to the entire kingdom." To make him even happier, he was given a grand house and lands, and his penchant for giant-killing subsided, or more likely, no more monsters showed up to disrupt his peace. He then fulfilled the usual ending of these romantic tales by spending the rest of his life enjoying every domestic happiness.
[I have alluded to the quotation from this primitive romance made by Shakespeare in King Lear, but if the story of Rowland, published by Mr. Jamieson, is to be trusted, it would seem that the great dramatist was indebted to a ballad of the time. This position would, however, compel us to adopt the belief that the words of the giant are also taken from the ballad; a supposition to which I am most unwilling to assent. In fact, I believe that Edgar quotes from two different compositions, the first line from a ballad on Rowland, the second from Jack and the Giants. "And Rowland into the castle came" is a line in the second ballad of Rosmer Hafmand, or the Merman Rosmer, in the Danish Koempe Viser, p. 165. The story alluded to above may be briefly given as follows.
[I previously mentioned the quote from this early romance by Shakespeare in King Lear, but if we can trust the story of Rowland published by Mr. Jamieson, it seems that the famous playwright borrowed from a ballad of that era. However, this suggests that the giant's words are also taken from the ballad, which I’m not inclined to accept. In fact, I believe Edgar quotes from two different works: the first line from a ballad about Rowland and the second from Jack and the Giants. "And Rowland into the castle came" is a line from the second ballad of Rosmer Hafmand, or the Merman Rosmer, in the Danish Koempe Viser, p. 165. The story mentioned above can be summarized as follows.]
The sons of King Arthur were playing at ball in the merry town of Carlisle, and their sister, "Burd [28] Ellen" was in the midst of them. Now it happened that Child Rowland gave the ball such a powerful kick with his foot that "o'er the kirk he gar'd it flee." Burd Ellen went round about in search of the ball, but what was the consternation of her brothers when they found that she did not return, although "they bade lang and ay langer,"—
The sons of King Arthur were playing ball in the lively town of Carlisle, and their sister, "Burd __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ellen," was with them. Then, Child Rowland kicked the ball so hard that it soared "o'er the kirk." Burd Ellen went to look for the ball, but her brothers were shocked when she didn’t return, even though "they bade lang and ay langer,"—
They searched for her east, they searched for her west,They searched for her up and down;And sorrow filled the hearts in merry Carlisle,For she was nowhere to be found.At last her eldest brother went to the Warlock or Wizard Merlin, and asked him if he knew where his sister, the fair Burd Ellen, was. "The fair Burd Ellen," said the Warlock Merlin, "is carried away by the fairies, and is now in the castle of the King of Elfland; and it were too bold an undertaking for the stoutest knight in Christendom to bring her back." The brother, however, insisted upon undertaking the enterprise, and after receiving proper instructions from Merlin, which he failed in observing, he set out on his perilous expedition, and was never more seen.
Finally, her oldest brother went to the wizard Merlin and asked if he knew where his sister, the beautiful Burd Ellen, was. "The beautiful Burd Ellen," said Merlin, "has been taken by the fairies and is now in the castle of the King of Elfland; it would be too bold for even the bravest knight in Christendom to bring her back." However, the brother insisted on taking on the challenge, and after receiving some advice from Merlin, which he didn’t follow, he set off on his perilous journey and was never seen again.
The other brothers took the same course, and shared a similar fate, till it came to the turn of Child Rowland, who with great difficulty obtained the consent of his mother, for Queen Guinever began to be afraid of losing all her children. Rowland, having received her blessing, girt on his father's celebrated sword Excaliber, that never struck in vain, and repaired to Merlin's cave. The wizard gave him all necessary instructions for his journey and conduct, the most important of which were that he should kill every person he met with after entering the land of Faerie, and should neither eat nor drink of what was offered him in that country, whatever his hunger or thirst might be; for if he tasted or touched in Elfland, he must remain in the power of the elves, and never see middle-earth again.
The other brothers took the same path and met a similar fate until it was Child Rowland's turn. After much effort, he got his mother’s consent because Queen Guinevere started to worry about losing all her children. Rowland, blessed by her, strapped on his father's legendary sword Excalibur, which never missed its mark, and headed to Merlin's cave. The wizard provided him with all the essential advice for his journey, the most crucial being that he should kill anyone he encountered after entering the land of Faerie and that he should not eat or drink anything offered to him in that realm, no matter how hungry or thirsty he was. If he tasted or touched anything in Elfland, he would remain under the elves' control and would never return to the mortal world.
Child Rowland faithfully promised to observe the instructions of Merlin, and he accordingly went to Elfland, where he found, as the wizard had foretold, the king's horseherd feeding his horses. "Canst thou tell me," said Rowland, "where the castle of the king of Elfland is?" "I cannot," replied the horseherd, "but go a little further, and thou wilt come to a cowherd, and perhaps he will know." When he had made this answer, Rowland, remembering his instructions, took his good sword, and cut off the head of the horseherd. He then went a little further, and met with a cowherd, to whom he repeated the same question, and obtained the same answer. Child Rowland then cut off the cowherd's head, and having pursued exactly the same course with a shepherd, goatherd, and a swineherd, he is referred by the last to a hen-wife, who, in reply to his question, said, "Go on yet a little farther till you come to a round green hill, surrounded with terraces from the bottom to the top: go round it three times widershins, [29] and every time say, "Open door, open door, and let me come in!' and the third time the door will open, and you may go in." Child Rowland immediately cut off the hen-wife's head in return for her intelligence, and following her directions, a door in the hill opened, and he went in. As soon as he entered, the door closed behind him, and he traversed a long passage, which was dimly but pleasantly lighted by crystallized rock, till he came to two wide and lofty folding-doors, which stood ajar. He opened them, and entered an immense hall, which seemed nearly as big as the hill itself. It was the most magnificent apartment in all the land of Faerie, for the pillars were of gold and silver, and the keystones ornamented with clusters of diamonds. A gold chain hung from the middle of the roof, supporting an enormous lamp composed of one hollowed transparent pearl, in the midst of which was a large magical carbuncle that beautifully illumined the whole of the hall.
Child Rowland faithfully promised to follow Merlin's instructions, and so he journeyed to Elfland, where he found exactly as the wizard had said, the king's horseherd feeding his horses. "Can you tell me," said Rowland, "where the castle of the king of Elfland is?" "I can't," replied the horseherd, "but if you go a little farther, you might find a cowherd who will know." After hearing this, Rowland, remembering his orders, drew his trusty sword and killed the horseherd. He then continued a bit further and met a cowherd, to whom he asked the same question and received the same answer. Child Rowland then beheaded the cowherd and followed the same path with a shepherd, a goatherd, and a swineherd. The last one directed him to a hen-wife, who, in response to his inquiry, said, "Keep going a little farther until you reach a round green hill surrounded by terraces from bottom to top: walk around it three times counterclockwise, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__ and each time say, 'Open door, open door, and let me come in!' The third time, the door will open, and you can enter." Child Rowland immediately killed the hen-wife for her information, and following her directions, a door in the hill opened, and he went in. As soon as he stepped inside, the door shut behind him, and he walked through a long passage that was dimly but pleasantly lit by crystallized rock until he reached two wide, tall folding doors that were ajar. He opened them and stepped into an enormous hall that seemed almost as big as the hill itself. It was the most splendid room in all of Faerie, with pillars made of gold and silver, and the keystones decorated with clusters of diamonds. A gold chain hung from the middle of the ceiling, supporting a massive lamp made from a hollow, transparent pearl, in which glowed a large magical carbuncle that beautifully lit up the entire hall.
At the upper end of the hall, seated on a splendid sofa, under a rich canopy, was his sister the Burd Ellen, "kembing her yellow hair wi' a silver kemb," who immediately perceiving him, was sorrow-struck at the anticipation of his being destroyed by the king of Elfland,—
At the far end of the hall, sitting on an elegant sofa beneath a lavish canopy, was his sister, the Burd Ellen, "combing her yellow hair with a silver comb." As soon as she saw him, she was filled with sorrow at the thought of him being taken by the king of Elfland,—
And hear ye this, my youngest brother,Why weren’t you staying at home?Had you a hundred and thousand lives,You wouldn't survive even one.And she informs him that he will certainly lose his life if the king finds him in the hall. A long conversation then takes place, and Rowland tells her all his adventures, concluding his narrative with the observation that, after his long journey, he is very hungry.
And she told him that he would definitely lose his life if the king found him in the hall. They had a long conversation, and Rowland shared all his adventures, ending his story by saying that, after his long journey, he was very hungry.
On this the Burd Ellen shook her head, and looked sorrowfully at him; but, impelled by her enchantment, she rose up, and procured him a golden bowl full of bread and milk. It was then that the Child Rowland remembered the instructions of the Warlock Merlin, and he passionately exclaimed, "Burd Ellen, I will neither eat nor drink till I set thee free!" Immediately this speech was uttered, the folding-doors of the hall burst open with tremendous violence, and in came the king of Elfland,—
Upon hearing this, Burd Ellen shook her head and looked at him sadly; but, driven by her enchantment, she got up and brought him a golden bowl filled with bread and milk. That’s when Child Rowland remembered the advice of the Warlock Merlin, and he firmly declared, "Burd Ellen, I won’t eat or drink until I set you free!" As soon as he said this, the folding doors of the hall swung open with tremendous force, and in walked the king of Elfland,—
With, Fe, fi, fo, fum,I smell the blood of a Christian man!Be he dead, be he living, with my brandI'll smash his brains from his skull! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__"Strike, then, Bogle, if thou darest," exclaimed the undaunted Child Rowland, and a furious combat ensued, but Rowland, by the help of his good sword, conquered the elf-king, sparing his life on condition that he would restore to him his two brothers and sister. The king joyfully consented, and having disenchanted them by the anointment of a bright red liquor, they all four returned in triumph to merry Carlisle.]
"Go ahead, Bogle, if you think you can," shouted the fearless Child Rowland, and a fierce battle broke out, but Rowland, with the help of his trusty sword, defeated the elf-king, sparing his life on the condition that he would return his two brothers and sister. The king happily agreed, and after using a bright red potion to break the spell, the four of them returned triumphantly to cheerful Carlisle.
| [28] | It is almost unnecessary to observe that burd was an ancient term for lady. |
| [29] | The contrary way to the course of the sun. |
| [30] | Literally, "I will dash his brains from his skull with my sword." |
TOM HICKATHRIFT.
[Tom Hickathrift is part of the same legend as Jack the Giant-killer, one of the popular adaptations of ancient northern tales. It seems to reference some revolts in the Isle of Ely, like the one led by Hereward, mentioned in Wright's Essays, ii. 91. However, Spelman describes a tradition that the people of Tylney believed, where Hickifric is seen as a defender of their ancestors' rights, and the methods he used in this instance align with events in the story that follows. The entire passage is worth quoting: "In Marslandia, there are Walsoka, Waltona, and Walpola. Nearby lie Terrington and St. Maries—adjacent to Tylney, certainly the root of the ancient Tylneiorum family. Here expands a notable area called Tylney Smeeth, so rich and lush that it seems to surpass the pastures of Padua. The locals regard it as sacred, telling an ancient tale about Hickifric (I don't know which) similar to that character in the Scottish Chronicles who, disgraced by the flight of his citizens, dropped the plow he was working and, seizing the pole, jumped into battle, claiming victory over his exuberant enemies. So, when there was once a fierce fight over this land between the landowner and the village inhabitants, and they were unable to stand against him, Hickifric met them on their way back, using an axe instead of a sword as he jumped from the cart he was driving; the wheel served as his shield; he drove back the invaders to the very borders they occupy now. They show in the Tylney cemetery the grave of their fighter, displaying an axe with a wheel carved on it."—Icenia, Descriptio Norfolciæ, p. 138. Hearne mentions this gravestone, and maybe a Norfolk topographer will let us know if it still exists.]
The author of the renowned History of Tom Hickathrift prefaces his narrative with the following consolatory exordium:—
The author of the famous History of Tom Hickathrift starts his story with this comforting introduction:—
And if you buy this book,Make sure you take a look at it,Read it through, and then you’ll sayYour money was well spent.
In the reign before William the Conqueror, I have read in ancient history that there dwelt a man in the parish of the Isle of Ely, in the county of Cambridge, named Thomas Hickathrift, a poor labouring man, but so strong that he was able to do in one day the ordinary work of two. He had an only son, whom he christened Thomas, after his own name. The old man put his son "to good learning," but he would take none, for he was, as we call them in this age, none of the wisest, but something soft, and had no docility at all in him. God calling this good man, the father, to his rest, his mother, being tender of him, maintained him by her hard labour as well as she could; but this was no easy matter, for Tom would sit all day in the chimney-corner, instead of doing anything to assist her, and although at the period we are speaking of, he was only ten years old, he would eat more than four or five ordinary men, and was five feet and a half in height, and two feet and a half broad. His hand was more like a shoulder of mutton than a boy's hand, and he was altogether like a little monster, "but yet his great strength was not known."
In the time before William the Conqueror, I read in ancient history that there was a man living in the Isle of Ely parish, in Cambridgeshire, named Thomas Hickathrift. He was a poor laborer, but so strong he could do in one day the work of two ordinary men. He had an only son, whom he named Thomas after himself. The father tried to give his son a good education, but the boy didn’t want to learn; he was, as we would say today, not very bright, a bit slow, and had no willingness to learn. After the father passed away, his mother, feeling protective of him, worked hard to support him as best as she could. However, it was challenging because Tom spent all day sitting by the fireplace instead of helping her. Even though he was only ten years old at the time, he ate more than four or five average adults and was five and a half feet tall and two and a half feet wide. His hand was more like a shoulder of mutton than a boy's hand, and he looked like a little monster, "but yet his great strength was not known."
Tom's strength came to be known in this manner. His mother, it appears, as well as himself, for they lived in the primitive days of merry old England, slept upon straw. This was in character with the wretched mud hovels then occupied by the labouring population, not half so good as many pigsties are now-a-days. Now being a tidy old creature, she must every now and then replenish her homely couch, and one day, having been promised a "bottle" of straw by a neighbouring farmer, after considerable entreaty, she prevailed on her son to go to fetch it. Tom, however, made her borrow a cart-rope first, before he would budge a step, without condescending to enter into any explanation respecting the use he intended it for; and the poor woman, too glad to obtain his assistance on any terms, readily complied with his singular request. Tom, swinging the rope round his shoulders, went to the farmer's, and found him with two men, thrashing in a barn. Having mentioned the object of his visit, the farmer somewhat inconsiderately told him he might take as much straw as he could carry. Tom immediately took him at his word, and, placing the rope in a right position, rapidly made up a bundle containing at least a cartload, the men jeering him on the absurdity of raising a pile they imagined no man could carry, and maliciously asking him if his rope was long enough. Their merriment, however, was not of long duration, for Tom flung the enormous bundle over his shoulders, and walked away with it without any apparent exertion, much to the astonishment and dismay of the master and his men.
Tom's strength became known in this way. His mother, it seems, just like him, lived in the early days of merry old England and slept on straw. This matched the miserable mud huts that the working class occupied, which were nowhere near as good as many pigsties today. Being a tidy old creature, she would occasionally need to refresh her simple bed, and one day, after being promised a "bottle" of straw by a neighboring farmer, she convinced her son to go get it after some persuasion. However, Tom insisted that she borrow a cart rope first before he would move an inch, without bothering to explain what he intended to use it for; and the poor woman, more than happy to get his help in any way, quickly agreed to his unusual request. Tom swung the rope over his shoulders and went to the farmer's place, finding him with two men thrashing grain in a barn. Once he mentioned the purpose of his visit, the farmer somewhat thoughtlessly told him he could take as much straw as he could carry. Tom immediately took him at his word, positioned the rope properly, and quickly made a bundle that weighed at least a cartload, even as the men mocked him for attempting to lift a load they thought no one could carry, teasing him about whether his rope was long enough. Their laughter, however, didn't last long, as Tom threw the massive bundle over his shoulders and walked away with it effortlessly, shocking and dismaying the farmer and his workers.
After this exploit, Tom was no longer suffered to enjoy his idle humours. Every one was endeavouring to secure his services, and we are told many remarkable tales of his extraordinary strength, still more wonderful than the one just related. On one occasion, having been offered as great a bundle of firewood as he could carry, he marched off with one of the largest trees in the forest! Tom was also extremely fond of attending fairs; and in cudgelling, wrestling, or throwing the hammer, there was no one who could compete with him. He thought nothing of flinging a huge hammer into the middle of a river a mile off, and in fact performed such extraordinary feats, that it was currently reported throughout the country he had dealings with the Evil One.
After this adventure, Tom could no longer just enjoy his idle ways. Everyone was trying to hire him for his services, and we've heard many amazing stories about his incredible strength, even more impressive than the one just mentioned. One time, when he was offered as much firewood as he could carry, he walked off with one of the biggest trees in the forest! Tom also loved going to fairs; in activities like club-swinging, wrestling, or hammer-throwing, no one could match him. He thought nothing of tossing a huge hammer into the middle of a river a mile away, and he actually performed such incredible feats that it was rumored across the country that he had made a deal with the Devil.
Tom Hickathrift, too, was a very care-for-nothing fellow, and there were very few persons in all the Isle of Ely who dared to give him an ill word. Those who did paid very dearly for their impertinence, and Tom was, in fact, paramount over his companions. His great strength, however, caused him to be much sought after by those who were in want of efficient labour, and at length a brewer at Lynn, who required a strong, lusty fellow to carry his beer to the Marsh and to Wisbech, after much persuasion, and promising him a new suit of clothes, and as much as he liked to eat and drink, secured Tom for this purpose. The distance he daily travelled with the beer was upwards of twenty miles, for although there was a shorter cut through the Marsh, no one durst go that way for fear of a monstrous giant, who was lord of a portion of the district, and who killed or made slaves of every one he could lay his hands upon.
Tom Hickathrift was also quite a reckless guy, and very few people in the Isle of Ely dared to speak poorly of him. Those who did regretfully paid a heavy price for their rudeness, and Tom was basically the top dog among his friends. His great strength, however, made him highly sought after by those in need of strong labor, and eventually, a brewer in Lynn, needing a hefty guy to transport his beer to the Marsh and to Wisbech, after much convincing and promising him a new set of clothes, as well as unlimited food and drink, hired Tom for this job. The distance he traveled daily with the beer was over twenty miles, because even though there was a shorter path through the Marsh, no one dared to take it out of fear of a huge giant who ruled part of the area and would either kill or enslave anyone he could catch.
Now in the course of time, Tom was thoroughly tired of going such a roundabout way, and without communicating his purpose to any one, he was resolved to pass through the giant's domain, or lose his life in the attempt. This was a bold undertaking, but good living had so increased Tom's strength and courage, that, venturesome as he was before, his hardiness was so much increased that he would have faced a still greater danger. He accordingly drove his cart in the forbidden direction, flinging the gates wide open, as if for the purpose of making his daring more conspicuous. At length he was espied by the giant, who was indignant at his boldness, but consoled himself with the reflection that Tom and the beer would soon become his prey. "Sirrah," said the monster, "who gave you permission to come this way? Do you not know how I make all stand in fear of me? and you, like an impudent rogue, must come and fling my gates open at your pleasure! How dare you presume to do so? Are you careless of your life? Do not you care what you do? But I will make you an example for all rogues under the sun! Dost thou not see how many thousand heads hang upon yonder tree, heads of those who have offended against my laws; but thy head shall hang higher than all the rest for an example!" But Tom made him this impudent answer, "A dishclout in your teeth for your news, for you shall not find me to be one of them!" "No!" said the giant, in astonishment and indignation; "and what a fool you must be if you come to fight with such a one as I am, and bring never a weapon to defend yourself!" Quoth Tom, "I have a weapon here will make you know you are a traitorly rogue." This impertinent speech highly incensed the giant, who immediately ran to his cave for his club, intending to dash out Tom's brains at one blow. Tom was now much distressed for a weapon, that necessary accoutrement in his expedition having by some means escaped his memory, and he began to reflect how very little his whip would avail him against a monster twelve feet in height, and six feet round the waist, small dimensions certainly for a giant, but sufficient to be formidable. But while the giant was gone for his club, Tom bethought himself, and turning his cart upside down, adroitly takes out the axletree, which would serve him for a staff, and removing a wheel, adapts it to his arm in lieu of a shield; very good weapons indeed in time of trouble, and worthy of Tom's ingenuity. When the monster returned with his club, he was amazed to see the weapons with which Tom had armed himself, but uttering a word of defiance, he bore down upon the poor fellow with such heavy strokes, that it was as much as Tom could do to defend himself with his wheel. Tom, however, at length managed to give the giant [31] a heavy blow with the axletree on the side of his head, that he nearly reeled over. "What!" said Tom, "are you tipsy with my strong beer already?" This inquiry did not, as we may suppose, mollify the giant, who laid on his blows so sharply and heavily that Tom was obliged to act on the defensive. By and by, not making any impression on the wheel, he got almost tired out, and was obliged to ask Tom if he would let him drink a little, and then he would fight again. "No," said Tom, "my mother did not teach me that wit; who would be fool then?" The sequel may readily be imagined, and Tom having beaten the giant, and, disregarding his supplications for mercy, cut off his head, entered the cave, which he found completely filled with gold and silver.
Now, as time went on, Tom got really tired of taking such a long way around, and without telling anyone his plan, he decided to pass straight through the giant's territory or die trying. It was a daring move, but Tom's good living had made him stronger and braver. He was already adventurous, but now he was so bold that he would have faced an even greater threat. So, he drove his cart in the forbidden direction, throwing the gates wide open, almost as if to show off his audacity. Eventually, the giant spotted him and was furious at Tom's boldness but comforted himself with the thought that Tom and the beer would soon be his victims. "Hey, you!" roared the giant, "who gave you permission to come this way? Don’t you know how I make everyone fear me? And you, like a rude fool, just walk in and throw open my gates as you please! How dare you act like this? Do you not care for your life? Are you completely reckless? I'll make you an example for every rogue out there! Do you not see how many thousands of heads hang from that tree? Those are the heads of those who opposed my laws, but your head will hang higher than all the rest as a warning!" But Tom boldly replied, "I don't care about your threats, because you won’t find me among those who fear you!" "No!" exclaimed the giant in shock and rage; "what a fool you are if you come to fight me without even a weapon to defend yourself!" Tom shot back, "I've got a weapon that will show you what a traitor you are." This disrespectful response made the giant furious, and he dashed to his cave to grab his club, planning to knock Tom out with one blow. Tom was now worried about being unarmed, for some reason having overlooked that essential part of his plan, and he started to realize how useless his whip would be against a giant that was twelve feet tall and six feet wide—admittedly small for a giant but still intimidating. However, while the giant was away fetching his club, Tom had a clever idea. He flipped his cart upside down, quickly took out the axletree to use as a staff, and removed a wheel to use as a makeshift shield; quite decent weapons to have in a tough situation, and a testament to Tom's resourcefulness. When the giant returned with his club, he was shocked to see how Tom had armed himself, but let out a defiant yell and attacked Tom with such powerful swings that it took all of Tom's effort just to defend himself with the wheel. Eventually, Tom managed to hit the giant [31] hard on the side of the head with the axletree, making him nearly stumble. "What!" Tom exclaimed, "Are you already tipsy from my strong beer?" This question, as one might expect, did not calm the giant down, who continued to strike Tom with fierce blows, forcing him to play defense. Eventually, realizing he wasn't making any impact on the wheel, the giant got tired and asked Tom if he could have a drink before they fought again. "No," Tom replied, "my mother didn't teach me that kind of foolishness; who would act like that?" The outcome is easy to guess: Tom defeated the giant, ignored his pleas for mercy, beheaded him, and entered the cave filled to the brim with gold and silver.
| [31] | In the original it is lent the giant, the term lent being old English or Saxon for gave. The expression sufficiently proves the antiquity of the version. |
The news of this celebrated victory rapidly spread throughout the country, for the giant had been a common enemy to the inhabitants. They made bonfires for joy, and testified their respect to Tom by every means in their power. A few days afterwards, Tom took possession of the cave and all the giant's treasure. He pulled down the former, and built a magnificent house on the spot; but with respect to the land forcibly obtained by the giant, part of it he gave to the poor for their common, merely reserving enough to maintain himself and his good old mother, Jane Hickathrift. His treasure, we may suppose, notwithstanding this great liberality, enabled him to maintain a noble establishment, for he is represented as having numbers of servants, and a magnificent park of deer. He also built a famous church, which was called St. James's, because it was on that saint's day that he had killed the giant. And what was as good and better than all this, he was no longer called Tom Hickathrift by the people, but "Mr. Hickathrift," a title then implying a greater advancement in social position that can now scarcely be imagined.
The news of this celebrated victory quickly spread across the country, as the giant had been a common enemy to everyone. They lit bonfires in celebration and showed their respect for Tom in every way possible. A few days later, Tom took over the cave and all of the giant's treasure. He destroyed the cave and built a magnificent house in its place; as for the land taken by the giant, he gave part of it to the poor for their community, keeping just enough to support himself and his good old mother, Jane Hickathrift. His treasure, we can assume, despite his generosity, allowed him to maintain a grand lifestyle, as he was described as having many servants and an impressive deer park. He also constructed a famous church, named St. James's, since it was on that saint's day that he had defeated the giant. And perhaps more importantly, he was no longer referred to as Tom Hickathrift by the townspeople, but rather "Mr. Hickathrift," a title that then signified a level of social standing that is hardly imaginable today.
Like many other persons who have become suddenly possessed of great wealth, Tom was sadly at a loss to know what to do with his money; nor does this sage history condescend to inform us in what manner he expended it. He seems, however, to have amused himself rarely, attending every sport he could hear of for miles round, cracking skulls at cudgel-playing, bear-baiting, and all the gentlemanly recreations current in those days. At football he could scarcely have been a welcome addition to the company, for one kick from his foot, if he caught it in the middle, was sure to send the ball so great a distance over hedges and trees that it was never seen again. Tom was, also, one evening attacked by four robbers; but they sadly mistook the person they had to deal with, for he quickly killed two of them, made the others sue for mercy, and carried off their booty, which amounted to the large sum of two hundred pounds. One would have thought the Hickathrifts were wealthy enough before, but this addition to their store was, somehow or other, a source of great delight and merriment to Tom's aged mother.
Like many others who suddenly come into a lot of money, Tom was completely confused about what to do with it; and this wise story doesn't tell us how he spent it. However, he seemed to have a great time, joining in on every sport he could find for miles around, smashing heads at cudgel-playing, bear-baiting, and all the popular pastimes of that time. At football, he probably wasn’t the most welcome player, since one kick from him, if he connected right, would send the ball flying over fences and trees never to be seen again. One evening, Tom was also attacked by four robbers; but they misjudged who they were dealing with, as he quickly killed two of them, forced the others to beg for mercy, and took off with their loot, which totaled a hefty two hundred pounds. One might think the Hickathrifts were rich enough already, but somehow, this extra money brought great joy and happiness to Tom's elderly mother.
Tom was a long time before he found any one that could match him; but, one day, going through his woods, he met with a lusty tinker, who had a great staff on his shoulder, and a large dog to carry his bag and tools. Tom was not particularly courteous; it may readily be supposed that his unvarying successes had made him rather overbearing; and he somewhat rudely asked the tinker what was his business there. But the tinker was no man to succumb, and as rudely answered, "What's that to you? Fools must needs be meddling!" A quarrel was soon raised, and the two laid on in good earnest, blow for blow, till the wood re-echoed with their strokes. The issue of the contest was long doubtful, but, the tinker was so persevering, that Tom confessed he was fairly vanquished; and they then went home together, and were sworn brothers in arms ever afterwards. It happened, from the events that followed, to be a fortunate occurrence.
Tom took a long time to find anyone who could match him, but one day, while walking through his woods, he came across a burly tinker with a big staff on his shoulder and a large dog carrying his bag and tools. Tom wasn’t very polite; it’s easy to assume that his constant victories had made him a bit arrogant, so he somewhat rudely asked the tinker what he was doing there. But the tinker wasn’t the type to back down, and he responded just as rudely, "What's it to you? Fools have to meddle!" A fight quickly broke out, and the two exchanged blows seriously, making the woods echo with their hits. The outcome of the fight was uncertain for a long time, but the tinker was so persistent that Tom admitted he had been fairly beaten. They then went home together and became sworn brothers in arms from that day on. It turned out to be a fortunate event given what happened next.
In and about the Isle of Ely, many disaffected persons, to the number of ten thousand and upwards, drew themselves up in a body, presuming to contend for their ancient rights and liberties, insomuch that the gentry and civil magistrates of the county were in great danger. The danger was so great, that the sheriff was obliged to come to Tom Hickathrift, under cover of the night, for shelter and protection, and gave him a full account of the rebellion. The tinker and Tom immediately promised their assistance, and they went out as soon as it was day, armed with their clubs, the sheriff conducting them to the rendezvous of the rebels. When they arrived there, Tom and the tinker marched up to the leaders of the multitude, and asked them the reason of their disturbing the government. To this they answered loudly, "Our will is our law, and by that alone will we be governed." "Nay," quoth Tom, "if it be so, these trusty clubs are our weapons, and by them alone you shall be chastised." These words were no sooner uttered, than they madly rushed on the immense multitude, bearing all before them, laying twenty or thirty sprawling with every blow. It is also related, as something rather remarkable, that the tinker struck a tall man on the nape of the neck with such immense force that his head flew off, and was carried forty feet from the body with such violence that it knocked down one of the chief ringleaders, killing him on the spot. The feats of Tom were no less wonderful; for, after having slain hundreds, and at length broke his club, he seized upon "a lusty rawboned miller" as a substitute, and made use of him as a weapon, till he had quite cleared the field.
In and around the Isle of Ely, a large group of discontented people, numbering over ten thousand, gathered together, claiming their ancient rights and freedoms, putting the local gentry and officials at significant risk. The threat was so serious that the sheriff had to secretly approach Tom Hickathrift in the middle of the night for help, providing him with a full account of the rebellion. Tom and the tinker immediately agreed to help, and once daybreak arrived, they armed themselves with clubs, with the sheriff leading them to where the rebels had gathered. Once they got there, Tom and the tinker confronted the leaders of the crowd and asked why they were causing unrest. They loudly replied, "Our will is our law, and we will be governed by that alone." "Well," said Tom, "if that's the case, these trusty clubs are our weapons, and you’ll be punished by them." No sooner had he finished speaking than they charged at the massive crowd, overwhelming them and knocking down twenty or thirty people with each swing. Interestingly, it's noted that the tinker struck a tall man on the back of the neck with such force that his head flew off and traveled forty feet from the body with such intensity that it knocked down one of the main leaders, killing him instantly. Tom's feats were just as impressive; after slaying hundreds and eventually breaking his club, he grabbed "a strong rawboned miller" as a makeshift weapon and used him to clear the battlefield.
The king of course received intelligence of these extraordinary exploits, and sent for the two heroes to his palace, where a royal banquet was prepared for their honour and entertainment, most of the nobility being present. Now after the banquet was over, the king made a speech, neither too short nor too long, but having the extraordinary merit of being much to the purpose. We cannot omit so remarkable a specimen of royal eloquence. "These, my guests," said the king, "are my trusty and well-beloved subjects, men of approved courage and valour; they are the men that overcame and conquered ten thousand rebels who were combined for the purpose of disturbing the peace of my realm. According to the character I have received of Thomas Hickathrift and Henry Nonsuch, my two worthy guests here present, they cannot be matched in any other kingdom in the world. Were it possible to have an army of twenty thousand such as these, I dare venture to assert I would act the part of Alexander the Great over again. In the meanwhile, as a proof of my royal favour, kneel down, Thomas Hickathrift, and receive the ancient order of knighthood. And with respect to Henry Nonsuch, I will settle upon him, as a reward for his great services, the sum of forty shillings a year for life." After the delivery of this excellent address, the king retired, and Tom and Henry shortly afterwards took their departure, attended for many miles by a portion of the court.
The king, of course, got word of these incredible feats and summoned the two heroes to his palace, where a lavish banquet was arranged in their honor, with most of the nobility present. Once the banquet ended, the king delivered a speech that was neither too short nor too long but was remarkably to the point. We can't overlook such a noteworthy example of royal speech. "These, my guests," said the king, "are my loyal and beloved subjects, men of proven bravery and valor. They are the ones who defeated ten thousand rebels who aimed to disrupt the peace of my realm. From what I’ve heard about Thomas Hickathrift and Henry Nonsuch, my two esteemed guests here, there’s no equivalent to them in any other kingdom. If it were possible to gather an army of twenty thousand like them, I confidently assert I would recreate the feats of Alexander the Great. In the meantime, as a sign of my royal favor, kneel down, Thomas Hickathrift, and receive the ancient order of knighthood. As for Henry Nonsuch, I will grant him, as a token for his great services, a yearly pay of forty shillings for life." After delivering this excellent address, the king went away, and shortly after, Tom and Henry departed, accompanied for many miles by part of the court.
When Sir Thomas Hickathrift returned home, he found, to his great sorrow, that his mother had died during his stay at the court. It can scarcely be said that he was inconsolable for her loss, but being "left alone in a large and spacious house, he found himself strange and uncouth." He therefore began to consider whether it would not be advisable to seek out for a wife, and hearing of a wealthy young widow not far from Cambridge, he went and paid his addresses to her. At his first coming, she appeared to favour his suit, but, before he paid her a second visit, her fancy had been attracted by a more elegant wooer, and Sir Thomas actually found him at her feet. The young spark, relying on the lady's favour, was vehemently abusive to the knight, calling him a great lubberly whelp, a brewer's servant, and a person altogether unfitted to make love to a lady. Sir Thomas was not a likely man to allow such an affront to go unpunished, so going out in the courtyard with the dandy to settle the matter, he gave him a kick which sent him over the tops of the houses into a pond some distance off, where he would have been drowned, had not a poor shepherd, passing by, pulled him out with his crook.
When Sir Thomas Hickathrift got home, he was heartbroken to find that his mother had died while he was at court. He wasn’t exactly inconsolable over her loss, but being "left alone in a large and spacious house, he felt strange and awkward." So, he started to think about whether it would be a good idea to find a wife. Hearing about a wealthy young widow not far from Cambridge, he went to propose to her. At first, she seemed to be interested in him, but by the time he visited her again, she had already been charmed by a more attractive suitor, and Sir Thomas actually found him at her feet. The young man, feeling confident in the lady's affection, insulted the knight, calling him a clumsy fool, a brewer's servant, and completely unfit to woo a lady. Sir Thomas wasn’t the kind of man to let such an insult slide, so he stepped into the courtyard with the dandy to settle things. He kicked him and sent him flying over the rooftops into a pond a short distance away, where he would have drowned if a poor shepherd passing by hadn’t pulled him out with his crook.
The gallant studied every means of being revenged upon the knight, and for this purpose engaged two troopers to lie in ambush for him. Tom, however, according to the story, "crushed them like cucumbers." [32] Even when he was going to church with his bride to be married, he was set upon by one-and-twenty ruffians in armour; but, borrowing a back-sword from one of the company, he laid about him with such dexterity, that, purposely desiring not to kill any one, at every blow he chopped off a leg or an arm, the ground being strewed with the relics, "as it is with tiles from the tops of the houses after a dreadful storm." His intended and friends were mightily amused at all this, and the fair one jokingly observed, "What a splendid lot of cripples he has made in the twinkling of an eye!" Sir Thomas only received a slight scratch, and he consoled himself for the trifling misfortune by the conviction he had only lost a drop of blood for every limb he had chopped off.
The brave man looked for every way to get back at the knight, and to do this, he hired two soldiers to wait in ambush for him. Tom, however, according to the story, "crushed them like cucumbers." [32] Even when he was heading to church with his fiancée to get married, he was attacked by twenty-one armored thugs; but, borrowing a sword from one of them, he fought back with such skill that, not wanting to kill anyone, he managed to chop off a leg or an arm with every swing, leaving the ground covered in limbs, "just like tiles from the tops of houses after a terrible storm." His fiancée and friends found this very entertaining, and she joked, "What a wonderful collection of cripples he’s made in no time!" Sir Thomas only got a small scratch, and he comforted himself with the thought that he had only lost a drop of blood for every limb he chopped off.
| [32] | The author is not very particular in his similes, but this appears to be quite peculiar to this history. |
The marriage ceremony took place without any further adventure, and Sir Thomas gave a great feast on the occasion, to which all the poor widows for miles round were invited in honour of his deceased mother, and it lasted for four days, in memory of the four last victories he had obtained. The only occurrence at this feast worth mentioning was the theft of a silver cup, which was traced to the possession of an old woman of the name of Stumbelup, [33] and the others were so disgusted at her ingratitude to their kind host, that she would have been hanged on the spot, had not Sir Thomas interfered, and undertook the appointment of the punishment. Nor was it otherwise than comical, for she was condemned to be drawn through all the streets and lanes of Cambridge on a wheelbarrow, holding a placard in her hands, which informed the public,—
The wedding ceremony went off without any issues, and Sir Thomas threw a huge feast to celebrate, inviting all the poor widows from miles around in honor of his late mother. The feast lasted four days, remembering the last four victories he had won. The only noteworthy incident at this celebration was when a silver cup was stolen, and it was found in the hands of an old woman named Stumbelup. Everyone else was so appalled by her ingratitude toward their generous host that she would have been hanged right then and there if Sir Thomas hadn’t stepped in and taken charge of the punishment. It was quite comical, actually, as she was sentenced to be paraded through all the streets and alleys of Cambridge on a wheelbarrow, holding a sign that informed the public,—
I'm the mischievous Stumbelup,Who attempted to take the silver cup.
| [33] | This incident has been slightly altered, the original narrative being of a nature that will not bear an exact transcription. |
The news of Tom's wedding soon reached the court, and the king, remembering his eminent services, immediately invited him and his lady, who visited their sovereign immediately, and were received by him most affectionately. While they were on this visit, intelligence arrived that an extraordinary invasion had taken place in the county of Kent. A huge giant riding on a dragon, and accompanied with a large number of bears and lions, had landed on the coast of that unfortunate county, and was ravaging it in all directions. The king, says the history, was "a little startled," and well he might be, at such a visitation; but, taking advantage of the opportune presence of Tom Hickathrift, he solved the difficulty by creating him governor of the Isle of Thanet, [34] and thus making him responsible for the protection of the inhabitants from this terrible monster.
The news of Tom's wedding quickly spread to the court, and the king, recalling his outstanding contributions, promptly invited him and his wife. They visited their sovereign right away, and he received them warmly. While they were there, word arrived that an unprecedented invasion had occurred in Kent. A massive giant riding a dragon, accompanied by a large number of bears and lions, had landed on the coast of that unfortunate county and was causing destruction everywhere. The king, according to history, was "a bit shocked," which was understandable given such an unexpected event. However, seizing the opportunity of Tom Hickathrift's presence, he resolved the issue by appointing him governor of the Isle of Thanet, [34] and thus making him responsible for protecting the locals from this terrifying creature.
| [34] | In the heading of the chapter in the original it is East Angles, now called the Isle of Thanet, an error which favours the supposition of the story having been adapted from a much older original. |
There was a castle in the island, from which the country was visible for miles round, and this was the governor's abode. He had not been there long before he caught a view of the giant, who is described as "mounted upon a dreadful dragon, with an iron club upon his shoulders, having but one eye, the which was placed in his forehead; this eye was larger in compass than a barber's bason, and appeared like a flame of fire; his visage was dreadful to behold, grim and tawny; the hair of his head hung down his back and shoulders like snakes of an enormous length; and the bristles of his beard were like rusty wire!" It is difficult to imagine a being more terrible than this, but Tom was only surprised, not frightened, when he saw one day the giant making his way to the castle on his formidable dragon. After he had well viewed the edifice with his glaring eye, he tied the dragon up to a tree, and went up to the castle as if he had intended to thrust it down with his shoulder. But somehow or other he managed to slip down, so that he could not extricate himself, and Tom, advancing with his two-handed sword, cut off the giant's head at one blow, and the dragon's at four, and sent them up in a "waggon" to the court of his sovereign.
There was a castle on the island, from which you could see the country for miles around, and this was the governor's home. He hadn't been there long when he spotted the giant, who is described as "riding a terrifying dragon, with an iron club on his shoulders, having only one eye, which was positioned in his forehead; this eye was larger than a barber's basin and looked like a flame of fire; his face was frightening to look at, grim and tawny; his long hair hung down his back and shoulders like enormous snakes; and the bristles of his beard were like rusty wire!" It's hard to picture a being more terrifying than this, but Tom was just surprised, not scared, when he saw the giant approaching the castle on his fearsome dragon one day. After examining the building with his glaring eye, he tied the dragon to a tree and walked up to the castle as if he planned to knock it down with his shoulder. But somehow, he managed to slip, so he couldn't free himself, and Tom, stepping forward with his two-handed sword, chopped off the giant's head in one blow, and the dragon's head in four, then sent them up in a "wagon" to his king's court.
The news of Tom's victories reached the ears of his old companion, the tinker, who became desirous of sharing in his glory, and accordingly joined him at his castle. After mutual congratulations, Tom informed him of his wish to destroy, without delay, the beasts of prey that infested the island. They started for this purpose in company, Tom armed with his two-handed sword, and the tinker with his long pikestaff. After they had travelled about four or five hours, it was their fortune to meet with the whole knot of wild beasts together, being in number fourteen, six bears and eight lions. The two heroes waited for them with their backs against a tree, and whenever they came "within cutting distance" they cut their heads off, and in this manner killed all but one lion, who, unfortunately, by an inconsiderate movement on the part of Tom, crushed the poor tinker to death. The animal was, however, ultimately slain by Sir Thomas.
The news of Tom's victories reached his old friend, the tinker, who wanted to share in his glory and joined him at his castle. After exchanging congratulations, Tom told him he wanted to quickly eliminate the predatory beasts that roamed the island. They set out together, with Tom armed with his two-handed sword and the tinker with his long pikestaff. After traveling for about four or five hours, they encountered a pack of wild beasts, totaling fourteen—six bears and eight lions. The two heroes stood their ground against a tree, and whenever the beasts came "within cutting distance," they chopped their heads off, managing to kill all but one lion. Unfortunately, due to an unwise move by Tom, the poor tinker was crushed to death. However, Sir Thomas eventually killed the beast.
Sir Thomas Hickathrift had killed the giants, dragon, and lions, and he had conquered the rebels, but his happiness was by no means completed, for he was inconsolate for the loss of his friend. He, however, returned home to his lady, and made a grand feast in commemoration of his important victories. The history terminates with the following brilliant metrical speech he made on this festive occasion:
Sir Thomas Hickathrift had defeated the giants, dragon, and lions, and he had overcome the rebels, but he still wasn't completely happy because he was heartbroken over the loss of his friend. However, he went back home to his lady and threw a grand feast to celebrate his significant victories. The story ends with the following impressive speech he gave on this festive occasion:
My friends, as long as I have the strength to stand,I will bravely faceAll dangers until I clear this landOf lions, bears, and tigers, too.You can take my word for it, or blame me,Let it be noted,—Tom Hickathrift's glorious reputation,Who has never broken his promise!
TOM THUMB.
[Thumb stories are common in German and Danish, and the English tale comprises much that is found in the Northern versions. A writer in the Quarterly Review, xxi. 100, enters into some speculations respecting the mythological origin of Tom Thumb, and records his persuasion, in which we agree, that several of our common nursery tales are remnants of ancient μυθοι. Sir W. Scott mentions the Danish popular history of Svend Tomling, analysed by Nierup, "a man no bigger than a thumb, who would be married to a woman three ells and three quarters long." This personage is probably commemorated in the nursery rhyme,
Thumb stories are well-known in German and Danish literature, and the English tale has many similarities to the Northern versions. A writer in the Quarterly Review, xxi. 100, discusses some theories about the mythical origins of Tom Thumb, sharing his belief—which we agree with—that many of our beloved nursery tales are remnants of ancient myths. Sir W. Scott mentions the Danish folklore of Svend Tomling, as analyzed by Nierup, "a man no taller than a thumb, who would marry a woman three ells and three quarters tall." This character is likely remembered in the nursery rhyme,
I had a little husbandNo bigger than my thumb:I put him in a pint-pot,And there I bid him drum.According to popular tradition, Tom Thumb died at Lincoln, and a little blue flagstone in the pavement of the cathedral used to be pointed out as his monument.
According to popular tradition, Tom Thumb died in Lincoln, and a small blue flagstone in the pavement of the cathedral used to be shown as his monument.
"It was my good fortune," says Dr. Wagstaffe, "some time ago, to have the library of a schoolboy committed to my charge, where, among other undiscovered valuable authors, I pitched upon Tom Thumb and Tom Hickathrift, authors indeed more proper to adorn the shelves of Bodley or the Vatican, than to be confined to the retirement and obscurity of a private study. I have perused the first of these with an infinite pleasure, and a more than ordinary application, and have made some observations on it, which may not, I hope, prove unacceptable to the public, and however it may have been ridiculed and looked upon as an entertainment only for children and those of younger years, may be found perhaps a performance not unworthy the perusal of the judicious, and the model superior to either of those incomparable poems of Chevy Chase or the Children in the Wood. The design was undoubtedly to recommend virtue, and to show that however any one may labour under the disadvantages of stature and deformity, or the meanness of parentage, yet if his mind and actions are above the ordinary level, those very disadvantages that seem to depress him add a lustre to his character."—A Comment upon the History of Tom Thumb, 1711, p. 4.]
"I was fortunate," says Dr. Wagstaffe, "some time ago, to take over a schoolboy's library, where, among other undiscovered valuable authors, I found Tom Thumb and Tom Hickathrift, writers who truly deserve a spot on the shelves of Bodley or the Vatican, instead of being hidden away in a private study. I have read the first of these with great pleasure and a special dedication, and I've made some notes on it that I hope will be well-received by the public. Even though it has been ridiculed and seen as just entertainment for children and the young at heart, it might actually be a work that deserves consideration from the discerning, and is better than either of those amazing poems, Chevy Chase or the Children in the Wood. The intention was clearly to promote virtue and to show that, regardless of one's disadvantages in size and appearance or humble origins, if their mind and actions rise above the ordinary, those very disadvantages that seem to hold them back actually enhance their character."—A Comment upon the History of Tom Thumb, 1711, p. 4.]
In the merry days of good King Arthur, there lived in one of the counties of England a ploughman and his wife. They were poor, but as the husband was a strong workman, and his partner an able assistant in all matters pertaining to the farmhouse, the dairy, and poultry, they managed to make a very good living, and would have been contented and happy, had Nature blessed them with any offspring. But although they had been married several years, no olive branch had yet appeared, and the worthy couple sadly lamented their hard lot.
In the joyful days of good King Arthur, there lived in one of the counties of England a farmer and his wife. They were poor, but since the husband was a strong worker and his wife was a capable help in all things related to the farmhouse, the dairy, and the chickens, they managed to make a decent living and would have been content and happy if nature had blessed them with children. However, even though they had been married for several years, no child had come along yet, and the couple sadly mourned their difficult situation.
There lived at this period, at the court of Arthur, a celebrated conjuror and magician, whose name was Merlin, the astonishment of the whole world, for he knew the past, present, and future, and nothing appeared impossible to him. Persons of all classes solicited his assistance and advice, and he was perfectly accessible to the humblest applicant. Aware of this, the ploughman, after a long consultation with his "better half," determined to consult him, and, for this purpose, travelled to the court, and, with tears in his eyes, beseeched Merlin that he might have a child, "even though it should be no bigger than his thumb."
During this time, at King Arthur's court, there was a famous conjurer and magician named Merlin, who amazed everyone. He could see the past, present, and future, and nothing seemed impossible for him. People from all walks of life sought his help and guidance, and he was always open to even the humblest of requests. Knowing this, a farmer, after a long discussion with his wife, decided to seek Merlin's advice. He traveled to the court and, with tears in his eyes, begged Merlin to grant him a child, “even if it were no bigger than his thumb.”
Now Merlin had a strange knack of taking people exactly at their words, and without waiting for any more explicit declaration of the ploughman's wishes, at once granted his request. What was the poor countryman's astonishment to find, when he reached home, that his wife had given birth to a gentleman so diminutive, that it required a strong exercise of the vision to see him. His growth was equally wonderful, for—
Now Merlin had a unique ability to take people literally, and without waiting for a clearer expression of the farmer's desires, he immediately granted his wish. The poor farmer was shocked to find, upon returning home, that his wife had given birth to a little gentleman so tiny that it took a lot of effort to see him. His growth was just as astonishing, for—
In just four minutes he grew so quickly,That he became as tallAs the length of a ploughman's thumb,And that's what she called him.
The christening of this little fellow was a matter of much ceremony, for the fairy queen, attended by all her company of elves, was present at the rite, and he formally received the name of Tom Thumb. Her majesty and attendants attired him with their choicest weeds, and his costume is worth a brief notice. His hat was made of a beautiful oak leaf; his shirt was composed of a fine spider's web, and his hose and doublet of thistle-down. His stockings were made with the rind of a delicate green apple, and the garters were two of the finest little hairs one can imagine, plucked from his mother's eyebrows. Shoes made of the skin of a little mouse, "and tanned most curiously," completed his fairy-like accoutrement.
The christening of this little guy was quite the event because the fairy queen, along with all her elf companions, was there for the ceremony, and he officially got the name Tom Thumb. Her majesty and her attendants dressed him in their finest outfits, and his costume deserves a quick mention. His hat was made from a beautiful oak leaf; his shirt was crafted from delicate spider silk, and his pants and jacket were made of thistle fluff. His stockings were created from the skin of a soft green apple, and the garters were two of the tiniest hairs you can imagine, taken from his mom's eyebrows. Shoes made from the skin of a tiny mouse, "and tanned most skillfully," finished off his fairy-tale look.
It may easily be imagined that Tom was an object of astonishment and ridicule amongst the other children of the village, but they soon discovered that, notwithstanding his diminutive size, he was more than a match for them. It was a matter of very little consequence to Tom whether he lost or won, for if he found his stock of counters or cherrystones run low, he soon crept into the pockets of his companions, and replenished his store. It happened, on one occasion, that he was detected, and the aggrieved party punished Tom by shutting him up in a pin-box. The fairy boy was sadly annoyed at his imprisonment, but the next day he amply revenged himself; for hanging a row of glasses on a sunbeam, his companions thought they would follow his example, and, not possessing Tom's fairy gifts, broke the glasses, and were severely whipped, whilst the little imp was overjoyed at their misfortune, standing by, and laughing till the tears run down his face.
It’s easy to imagine that Tom was a source of surprise and mockery among the other kids in the village, but they quickly realized that, despite his small size, he was more than a match for them. It didn’t matter much to Tom whether he won or lost, because if his supply of counters or cherrystones ran low, he would just sneak into his friends’ pockets and restock his supply. One time, he got caught, and the upset kid punished Tom by locking him in a pin-box. The fairy boy was really upset about being trapped, but the next day he got his revenge; he hung a row of glasses on a sunbeam, and his friends tried to copy him. Lacking Tom's fairy magic, they broke the glasses and got a good spanking, while the little trickster stood by, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
The boys were so irritated with the trick that had been played upon them, that Tom's mother was afraid to trust him any longer in their company. She accordingly kept him at home, and made him assist her in any light work suitable for so small a child. One day, while she was making a batter-pudding, Tom stood on the edge of the bowl, with a lighted candle in his hand, so that she might see it was properly made. Unfortunately, however, when her back was turned, Tom accidentally fell in the bowl, and his mother not missing him, stirred him up in the pudding "instead of minced fat," and put the pudding in the kettle with Tom in it. The poor woman paid dearly for her mistake, for Tom had no sooner felt the warm water, than he danced about like mad, and the pudding jumped about till she was nearly frightened out of her wits, and was glad to give it to a tinker who happened to be passing that way. He was thankful for a present so acceptable, and anticipated the pleasure of eating a better dinner than he had enjoyed for many a long day. But his joy was of short duration, for as he was getting over a stile, he happened to sneeze very hard, and Tom, who had hitherto remained silent, cried out, "Hollo, Pickens!" which so terrified the tinker, that he threw the pudding into the field, and scampered away as fast as ever he could go. The pudding tumbled to pieces with the fall, and Tom, creeping out, went home to his mother, who had been in great affliction on account of his absence.
The boys were so annoyed by the trick that had been played on them that Tom's mom was too scared to let him hang out with them anymore. So, she kept him at home and made him help with any light chores that were appropriate for a little kid. One day, while she was making a batter-pudding, Tom stood on the edge of the bowl, holding a lit candle so she could see if it was mixed properly. Unfortunately, when she turned her back, Tom accidentally fell into the bowl, and since his mom didn’t notice he was missing, she stirred him into the pudding "instead of minced fat" and put the pudding in the pot with Tom still in it. The poor woman paid dearly for her mistake because as soon as Tom felt the warm water, he started dancing around like crazy, causing the pudding to jump so much that she was nearly scared out of her mind, and she was relieved to hand it off to a tinker who happened to be passing by. He was grateful for such a nice gift and looked forward to enjoying a better meal than he had had in a long time. But his happiness was short-lived because as he was climbing over a stile, he sneezed really hard, and Tom, who had been quiet until then, shouted, "Hey, Pickens!" This terrified the tinker so much that he threw the pudding into the field and ran away as fast as he could. The pudding fell apart on impact, and Tom, crawling out, went back home to his mom, who had been very worried about his disappearance.
A few days after this adventure, Tom accompanied his mother when she went into the fields to milk the cows, and for fear he should be blown away by the wind, she tied him to a thistle with a small piece of thread. While in this position, a cow came by, and swallowed him up:
A few days after this adventure, Tom went with his mother into the fields to milk the cows. Worried he might be blown away by the wind, she tied him to a thistle with a small piece of thread. While he was in this position, a cow came by and swallowed him up:
But when he was missed, his mother went,Calling for him everywhere:Where are you, Tom? where are you, Tom?He replied, Here, mother, here!Right here in the red cow's stomach,Your son is swallowed up;All of this caused her great painDeep sorrow within her fearful heart.
The cow, however, was soon tired of her subject, for Tom kicked and scratched till the poor animal was nearly mad, and at length tumbled him out of her mouth, when he was caught by his mother, and carried safely home.
The cow quickly got tired of her task because Tom kicked and scratched so much that the poor animal was almost driven crazy. Eventually, she spat him out, and he was caught by his mother, who took him safely home.
A succession of untoward accidents followed. One day, Tom's father took him to the fields a-ploughing, and gave him "a whip made of a barley straw" to drive the oxen with, but the dwarf was soon lost in a furrow. While he was there, a great raven came and carried him an immense distance to the top of a giant's castle. The giant soon swallowed him up, but he made such a disturbance when he got inside, that the monster was soon glad to get rid of him, and threw the mischievous little imp full three miles into the sea. But he was not drowned, for he had scarcely reached the water before he was swallowed by a huge fish, which was shortly after captured, and sent to King Arthur by the fisherman for a new-year's gift. Tom was now discovered, and at once adopted by the king as his dwarf;
A series of unfortunate events followed. One day, Tom's dad took him to the fields to plow and gave him "a whip made of barley straw" to guide the oxen, but the little guy got lost in a furrow. While he was there, a huge raven came and carried him a long way to the top of a giant's castle. The giant quickly swallowed him, but Tom caused such a commotion inside that the monster was soon eager to get rid of him and tossed the troublemaker three miles into the sea. However, he didn't drown, as he barely hit the water before being swallowed by a massive fish, which was soon after caught and sent to King Arthur as a new year's gift by the fisherman. Tom was then discovered and immediately adopted by the king as his dwarf;
He lived happily for a long time,Loved by the court,And no one was as valued as TomAmong the upper class.
The queen was delighted with the little dwarf, and made him dance a galliard on her left hand. His performance was so satisfactory, that King Arthur gave him a ring which he wore about his middle like a girdle; and he literally "crept up the royal sleeve," requesting leave to visit his parents, and take them as much money as he could carry:
The queen was thrilled with the little dwarf and made him dance a galliard on her left hand. His performance was so impressive that King Arthur gave him a ring that he wore around his waist like a belt; and he literally "crept up the royal sleeve," asking for permission to visit his parents and take them as much money as he could carry.
And off goes lively TomWith threepence in his pocket,A heavy load that madeHis bones really ache.
Tom remained three days with the old couple, and feasted upon a hazel-nut so extravagantly that he grew ill. His indisposition was not of long continuance, and Arthur was so anxious for the return of his dwarf, that his mother took a birding-trunk, and blew him to the court. He was received by the king with every demonstration of affection and delight, and tournaments were immediately proclaimed:
Tom stayed with the old couple for three days and indulged in a hazelnut so much that he got sick. His illness didn't last long, and Arthur missed his dwarf so much that his mother took a birding trunk and sent him off to the court. The king welcomed him with great warmth and joy, and tournaments were announced right away:
So he was welcomed at tilts and tournaments,That everyone else among Arthur's knightsShowed him great respect.And good Sir Launcelot du Lake,Sir Tristram and Sir Guy,But no one compared to brave Tom ThumbIn acts of chivalry.
Tom, however, paid dearly for his victories, for the exertions he made upon this celebrated occasion threw him into an illness which ultimately occasioned his death. But the hero was carried away by his godmother, the fairy queen, into the land of Faerie, and after the lapse of two centuries, he was suffered to return to earth, and again amuse men by his comical adventures. On one occasion, after his return from fairy-land, he jumped down a miller's throat, and played all manner of pranks on the poor fellow, telling him of all his misdeeds, for millers in former days were the greatest rogues, as everybody knows, that ever lived. A short time afterwards, Tom a second time is swallowed by a fish, which is caught, and set for sale at the town of Rye, where a steward haggles for it,—
Tom, however, paid a heavy price for his victories, as the effort he put into that famous occasion made him ill, which ultimately led to his death. But the hero was taken by his godmother, the fairy queen, to the land of Faerie, and after two centuries had passed, he was allowed to return to Earth and entertain people once again with his funny adventures. One time, after coming back from fairy-land, he jumped down a miller's throat and played all sorts of tricks on the poor guy, exposing all his wrongdoings, since millers back then were known to be the biggest crooks that ever lived. Soon after, Tom got swallowed by a fish again, which was caught and put up for sale in the town of Rye, where a steward bargained for it,—
Among the others, the steward arrived,Wondering what the salmon would sell,And other fish he named,But he wouldn't go along with it.The steward said, "You are so stubborn,If that's the case, I won’t buy anything."Then Tom Thumb spoke up loudly,"Sir, give the other penny!"They all started to stare,Taken aback by this sudden joke:In fact, some were so startled,They thought the dead fish had spoken.So the steward didn’t hesitate any longer,But offered a penny more;Because, he said, I've never heardA fish speak before.
The remainder of the history, which details Tom's adventures with the queen, his coach drawn by six beautiful white mice, his escaping on the back of a butterfly, and his death in a spider's web, is undoubtedly a later addition to the original, and may therefore be omitted in this analysis. It is, in fact, a very poor imitation of the first part of the tale.
The rest of the story, which talks about Tom's adventures with the queen, his carriage pulled by six beautiful white mice, his escape on the back of a butterfly, and his death in a spider's web, is definitely a later addition to the original and can be left out of this analysis. It's really just a bad copy of the first part of the tale.
III.—GAME-RHYMES.
- TOE-GAMES.
- THE FIVE FINGERS.
- FACE-SONGS.
- KNEE-SONGS.
- BO-PEEP.
- MISCELLANEOUS PUERILE AMUSEMENTS.
- SEE-SAW.
- HITTY-TITTY.
- BEANS AND BUTTER.
- DROP-CAP.
- MY SOW HAS PIGGED.
- NIDDY-NODDY.
- SLATE GAMES.
- GAME OF THE CAT.
- HANDY-DANDY.
- BARLEY-BRIDGE.
- THE TOWN LOVERS.
- MARY BROWN. FAIR GUNDELA.
- MY DAUGHTER JANE.
- HEWLEY-PULEY.
- THE DIAMOND RING.
- THE POOR SOLDIER.
- THE BRAMBLE-BUSH.
- THE GAME OF DUMP.
- DANCING LOOBY.
- DROP-GLOVE.
- NETTLES GROW IN AN ANGRY BUSH.
- GAME OF THE GIPSY.
- GAME OF THE FOX.
- THE OLD DAME.
- THE POOR WOMAN OF BABYLON.
- QUEEN ANNE.
- COUNTING-OUT RHYMES.
The most obvious method of arranging the rhymes employed in the amusements of children is to commence with the simple lines used by the nurse in the infantine toe, finger, and face-games, then proceeding to bo-peep, and concluding with the more complicated games, many of the latter possessing a dramatic character.
The clearest way to organize the rhymes used in children's games is to start with the simple lines that nurses use in baby toe, finger, and face games, then move on to bo-peep, and finish with the more complex games, many of which have a dramatic aspect.
TOE-GAMES.
Harry Whistle, Tommy Thistle,Harry Whible, Tommy Thible,And little Oker-bell.
A game with the five toes, each toe being touched in succession as these names are cried. "This song affords a proof of the connexion between the English and Scandinavian rhymes. The last line, as it now stands, appears to mean nothing. The word oker, however, is the A.-S. æcer, Icel. akr, Dan. ager, and Swed. åker, pronounced oker, a field, and the flower is the field-bell."—Mr. Stephens's MS. The following lines are also used in a play with the toes:
A game with the five toes, each one touched in order as the names are called out. "This song shows the connection between English and Scandinavian rhymes. The last line, as it is now, doesn’t seem to mean anything. The word oker, however, is the Old English æcer, Icelandic akr, Danish ager, and Swedish åker, pronounced oker, meaning a field, and the flower is the field-bell."—Mr. Stephens's MS. The following lines are also used in a game with the toes:
Put shoes on the colt, come on!Put shoes on the wild mare!Put a sack on her back,Let's see if she can carry it.If she can carry it,We'll give her some grains;If she can't carry it,We'll take her out.
There are many various versions of this song in English, and it also exists in Danish (Thiele, iii. 133).
There are many different versions of this song in English, and it also exists in Danish (Thiele, iii. 133).
Shoe my horse!Who can do it best?Our priest can!Not him, for sure!But our blacksmith can,He lives in Leed.Skoe min best!Hvem kan bedst?Det kan vor Præst!Nei mæn kan ban ej!For det kan vor smed,Som boer ved Leed.
Perhaps, however, this will be considered more like the common rhyme, "Robert Barnes, Fellow fine," printed in the 'Nursery Rhymes of England,' p. 166. An analogous verse is found in the nursery anthology of Berlin (Kuhn, Kinderlieder, 229), and in that of Sweden (Lilja, p. 14),—
Perhaps, however, this will be seen more like the familiar rhyme, "Robert Barnes, Fellow fine," printed in the 'Nursery Rhymes of England,' p. 166. A similar verse can be found in the nursery anthology of Berlin (Kuhn, Kinderlieder, 229), and in the one from Sweden (Lilja, p. 14),—
Shoe, shoe my little horse,Tomorrow frost will be our guest,Then horse shoes will be expensive,Two will cost a stiver.Shoe, shoe my little horse,Tomorrow it will be frosty:Then horse-shoes will be pricey,Two will cost a stiver.
English nurses use the following lines, when a child's shoe is tight, and they pat the foot to induce him to allow it to be tried on:
English nurses say these lines when a child's shoe is tight, and they gently pat the foot to encourage the child to let them try it on:
Cobbler, cobbler, fix my shoe,Just give it a stitch, and that’ll do.Here’s a nail, and there’s a tool,Now my shoe is properly fitted.
Or, occasionally, these lines,—
Or sometimes, these lines,—
This pig went to the market,Squeak, mouse, mouse, mousey;Shoe, shoe, shoe the wild colt,And here’s my own doll, Dowsy.
The following lines are said by the nurse when moving the child's foot up and down,—
The following lines are spoken by the nurse as she moves the child's foot up and down,—
The dog of the kill, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__He went to the millTo lick the mill-dust:The miller cameWith a stick on his back,—Home, dog, home!One foot behind,The other foot in front:When he reached a stile,He jumped over it.
| [35] | A north-country term for kiln. |
THE FIVE FINGERS.
I do not recollect to have seen anywhere noticed the somewhat singular fact, that our ancestors had distinct names for each of the five fingers—the thumb being generally called a finger in old works. Yet such was the case; and it may not displease the reader to have these cognominations duly set forth in order, viz. thumb, toucher, longman, leche-man, little-man. This information is derived from a very curious MS. quoted in my Dictionary of Archaisms, p. 357; and the reasons for the names are thus set forth:—The first finger was called toucher because "therewith men touch i-wis;" the second finger longman, "for longest finger it is," (this, I beg to say, is intended for rhyme). The third finger was called leche-man, because a leche or doctor tasted everything by means of it. This is very curious; though we find elsewhere another reason for this appellation, on account of the pulsation in it, which was at one time supposed to communicate directly with the heart. The other finger was, of course, called littleman because it was the least of all. It is rather curious that some of these names should have survived the wrecks of time, and be still preserved in a nursery-rhyme; yet such is the fact; for one thus commences, the fingers being kept in corresponding movements:
I don’t remember seeing anywhere mentioned the rather unique fact that our ancestors had different names for each of the five fingers— with the thumb usually referred to as a finger in old texts. But that was the case, and it might interest the reader to have these names listed in order: thumb, toucher, longman, leche-man, little-man. This information comes from a very interesting manuscript referenced in my Dictionary of Archaisms, p. 357; and the reasons for the names are as follows:—The first finger was called toucher because "with it, men touch, for sure;" the second finger longman, "because it is the longest finger," (this, I should mention, is intended for rhyme). The third finger was called leche-man, because a doctor tasted everything with it. This is quite interesting; although we find another reason for this name elsewhere, relating to the pulse in it, which was once thought to connect directly to the heart. The last finger was, of course, named little-man because it is the smallest of all. It’s somewhat surprising that some of these names have survived the passage of time and are still found in a nursery rhyme; yet that’s the case, as one begins like this, with the fingers moving in corresponding motions:
Dance, little thumb, dance,Dance, little thumb, dance;Dance, you merry men all around:But little thumb can dance alone;But little thumb can dance alone.Dance, foreman, dance,Dance, foreman, dance;Dance, you merry men all around:But little thumb can dance alone;But little thumb can dance alone.
And so on, substituting in succession middleone, longman, or middleman, ringman, and littleman, and each verse terminating with "thumbkin he can dance alone." In some instances the original name for the third finger, lecheman, is preserved in the rhyme, but ringman is most generally adopted.
And so on, swapping in turn middleone, longman, or middleman, ringman, and littleman, with each verse ending with "thumbkin he can dance alone." In some cases, the original name for the third finger, lecheman, is kept in the rhyme, but ringman is more commonly used.
It is worthy of remark too, that there is, even at the present day, amongst many of the old women of the Peak of Derbyshire, a strong belief in the superiority of lecheman over foreman in all matters of taste. They say that the forefinger is venomous, and that the superiority of the third is to be ascribed to its being possessed of a nerve; and as they appear to pay a most superstitious reverence to a nerve, whether in the finger, the tooth, or the ear, they do not fail to impress upon their daughters the importance of tasting anything of consequence with the third finger.
It's worth noting that even today, many of the older women in the Peak District of Derbyshire strongly believe that the third finger is better than the forefinger in terms of taste. They claim that the forefinger is "venomous" and that the third finger's superiority comes from it having a "nerve." Since they seem to have a superstitious respect for nerves, whether in fingers, teeth, or ears, they make sure to teach their daughters the importance of tasting anything significant with the third finger.
The names given to the fingers vary considerably in the different counties. In Essex they call them
The names used for the fingers vary greatly across different counties. In Essex, they call them
Tom Thumbkin,Bess Bumpkin,Bill Wilkin,Long Linkin,And little Dick!
And in some parts of Yorkshire,
And in some areas of Yorkshire,
Tom Thumbkins,Bill Wilkins,Long Daniel,Bessy Bobtail,And little Dick.
Similar appellations for the fingers are common in Denmark. Thus, Thiele, iii. 136,—
Similar names for the fingers are common in Denmark. Thus, Thiele, iii. 136,—
Tommeltot,Slikkepot,Langemand,Guldbrand,Little Peer Musician.
"Little Peer Spilleman" is "little Peter the fiddler," not a bad name for the little finger. A slight variation of this is current in Sweden,—
"Little Peer Spilleman" is "little Peter the fiddler," which isn't a bad name for the little finger. A slight variation of this is used in Sweden,—
Tommy Tott,Slick pot;Long man,Kind hand;Little, little, little, gold blossom!
The following song for the four fingers is obtained from Lancashire:
The following song for the four fingers comes from Lancashire:
This destroyed the barn,This took the corn,This got nothing:This went pinky-winkyAll the way home!
FACE-SONGS.
Bo Peeper,Nose drip,Chin chopper,White snipper,Red flag,And little gap.
These lines are said to a very young child, touching successively for each line the eye, nose, chin, tooth, tongue, and mouth. Sometimes the following version is used:
These lines are said to a very young child, touching each part of their face in order: eye, nose, chin, tooth, tongue, and mouth. Sometimes the following version is used:
Eyebrows arched,Eyes twinkling,Chin sharp,Nose cute,Cheeks rosy,Smile bright.
The most pleasing amusement of this kind is the game of "face-tapping," the nurse tapping each feature as she sings these lines,—
The most enjoyable pastime of this kind is the game of "face-tapping," the caregiver tapping each feature as she sings these lines,—
Here sits the mayor (forehead),Here sit his two assistants (eyes);Here sits the rooster (right cheek),Here sits the hen (left cheek).Here are the little chicks (tip of nose),Here they come running in (mouth);Chinchopper, chinchopper,Chinchopper, chin (chucking the chin)!
Similar songs are common in the North of Europe. A Danish one is given by Thiele, iii. 130:
Similar songs are common in Northern Europe. A Danish example is provided by Thiele, iii. 130:
Pandebeen,Oisteen,Næsebeen,Mundelip,Hagetip,Thick, thick, thick.Brow-bone,Eye-stone,Nose-bone,Mouth-lip,Chin-tip,Thick, thick, thick!
The nurse, while repeating the last line, tickles the child under the chin. A German version, now common at Berlin, is printed by M. Kuhn, in his article on Kinderlieder, p. 237:
The nurse, while saying the last line again, tickles the child under the chin. A German version, now popular in Berlin, is published by M. Kuhn in his article on Kinderlieder, p. 237:
Kinnewippchen, Rothlippchen, Nasendrippchen, Augenthränechen, Ziep ziep Maränechen.
The following lines are repeated by the nurse when sliding her hand down the child's face:
The nurse says the following lines again as she runs her hand down the child's face:
My mom and your momWent down the street;Said my mom to your mom,It's chop-a-nose day!
KNEE-SONGS.
This is how the ladies ride;Tri, tre, tre, tree,Tri, tre, tre, tree!This is how the ladies ride,Tri, tre, tre, tri-tre-tre-tree!This is how the gentlemen ride;Gallop-a-trot,Gallop-a-trot!This is how the gentlemen ride,Gallop-a gallop-a-trot!This is how the farmers ride;Hobbledy-hoy,Hobbledy-hoy!This is how the farmers ride,Hobbledy hobbledy-hoy!
This is a famous song for a young child, the nurse dancing it on her knee, and gradually increasing the ascent of the foot. Similar songs, but differing considerably from the above, are given in the Swedish nursery ballads of Arwidsson, iii. 489-91; the Danish of Thiele, iii. 130-2, iv. 176-7; and the German Wunderhorn, iii. 60-1. The following pretty Swedish version is given from Mr. Stephens's MS. collections:
This is a well-known song for a young child, where the nurse dances it on her knee, gradually lifting her foot higher. Similar songs, though quite different from this one, can be found in the Swedish nursery ballads of Arwidsson, iii. 489-91; the Danish of Thiele, iii. 130-2, iv. 176-7; and the German Wunderhorn, iii. 60-1. The following lovely Swedish version comes from Mr. Stephens's MS. collections:
Who is that riding?It's a young lady on horseback:She moves at a slow pace,At a slow pace!Who is that riding?It's a gentleman on horseback:He’s off at a gallop,At a gallop!Who is that riding?It's a farmer on horseback:He’s going along at a steady pace,Steady pace!And now, who is riding?It's a lady who’s riding:And she rides with a gentle trot,A gentle trot!And now, who is riding?It's a gentleman who’s riding:And he rides away in a gallop,A gallop away!And now, who is riding?It's a farmer who’s riding:And he’s going along with a jog,A jog along!
There are a great number of English variations of the above song, differing very materially from one another. A second version may be worth giving:
There are many different English versions of the song above, and they vary significantly from each other. Here’s another version that might be worth sharing:
Here comes my lord,A trot! a trot! a trot! a trot!Here comes my lady,A canter! a canter! a canter! a canter!Here comes my young master,Jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch!Here comes my young miss,An amble! an amble! an amble! an amble!The footman lingers behind to sip ale and wine,And goes galloping, galloping, galloping, to catch up on time.
Here are other knee-songs:
Here are other knee songs:
Little Shon a Morgan,Gentleman of Wales,Came riding on a nanny goat,Selling pig tails.Chicky, cuckoo, my little duck,See-saw, sickna downy;Gallop a trot, trot, trot,And hey for Dublin town!
BO-PEEP.
The children's game of bo-peep is as old as the hills, hiding from each other, and saying,—
The children's game of bo-peep is as old as time, hiding from each other and saying,—
Bo-Peep, Little Bo-Peep:It's time for hide and seek now.
But in ancient times the amusement appears to have been even of a simpler character, and adopted by nurses before children are capable of seeking recreation for themselves. Sherwood describes bo-peep as a child's game, in which the nurse conceals the head of the infant for an instant, and then removes the covering quickly. The Italians say far bau bau, or baco, baco, which Douce thinks is sufficient to show a connexion between the nurse's boggle or buggy-bo, and the present expression. Shakespeare has condescended to notice the game, unless, indeed, we suppose the term to have passed into a proverb. The reader will recollect what Butler says of Sir Edward Kelly, the celebrated conjuror,—
But in ancient times, the amusement seems to have been much simpler and was used by nurses even before children could seek their own fun. Sherwood describes "bo-peep" as a child's game where the nurse briefly hides the infant's head and then quickly uncovers it. The Italians say far bau bau or baco, baco, which Douce believes shows a connection between the nurse's boggle or buggy-bo and the current expression. Shakespeare even mentioned the game, unless we think the term became a proverb. The reader might remember what Butler says about Sir Edward Kelly, the famous conjuror,—
Kelly accomplished all his feats onThe devil's mirror, a stone:Where, playing hide and seek with him,He solved all problems never so deep.
The term bo-peep appears to have been connected at a very early period with sheep. Thus in an old ballad of the time of Queen Elizabeth, in a MS. in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge,—
The term bo-peep seems to have been linked with sheep from a very early time. For instance, in an old ballad from the time of Queen Elizabeth, found in a manuscript at the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge,—
Half of England is now nothing but sheep,In every corner, they play boe-peep;Lord, confuse them by twenty and ten,And fill their places with Christian men.
And every one is acquainted with the nursery rhyme which details the adventures of 'Little Bo-peep,'—
And everyone knows the nursery rhyme that tells the story of 'Little Bo-peep,'—
Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep,And she doesn’t know where to find them:Leave them alone, and they'll come home,And bring their tails with them.Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,And dreamt she heard them bleating:But when she woke up, she found it was a joke,Because they were still all gone.
Minsheu gives us a funny derivation of the word, which he says is no other than the noise which chickens make when they come out of the shell! I regret I have nothing better, certainly nothing so ingenious, to offer to my philological readers. Letting that pass, I take the opportunity of giving an anecdote respecting Ben Jonson and Randolph, which affords another illustration of the analogy above mentioned. It is taken from a manuscript of the seventeenth century, in the possession of Mr. Stephens of Stockholm, who considers the volume to have been transcribed before the year 1650.
Minsheu provides a humorous explanation of the word, claiming it comes from the sound chickens make when they hatch! I wish I had a better, definitely not as clever, explanation to share with my language-loving readers. Setting that aside, I’d like to share a story about Ben Jonson and Randolph that further illustrates the comparison mentioned earlier. This story is from a seventeenth-century manuscript owned by Mr. Stephens in Stockholm, who believes the volume was copied before 1650.
"Randolph havinge not soe much as ferry money, sought out Ben Johnson, and comminge to a place in London where he and three more were drinkinge, peeps in att the chamber doore. Ben Johnson espyinge him, said, 'Come in, Jack Bo-peepe.' Randolph, beinge very thirsty, it beeing then summer, and willinge to quench his thirst, willingly obeyed his command. The company dranke untill it came to five shillings: every man drawinge his money, Randolph made this motion, viz. that he that made the first coppy of verses upon the reckoninge should goe scot-free. Ben and all the rest, beeinge poetts, readily consented. Randolph, surpassinge them in acutenesse, utter'd forthwith these followinge,—
"Randolph, having no money for the ferry, looked for Ben Johnson, and arriving at a place in London where he and three others were drinking, he peeked in at the chamber door. Ben Johnson spotting him said, 'Come in, Jack Bo-peepe.' Randolph, feeling very thirsty since it was summer and eager to quench his thirst, happily obeyed his request. The group drank until the bill reached five shillings: each person pulled out their money, and Randolph proposed that whoever wrote the first poem about the bill should be exempt from paying. Ben and the others, being poets, readily agreed. Randolph, surpassing them in wit, immediately came up with the following—"
I, Jack Bo-peep,And you four sheep,Let everyone give up their fleece:Here's five shillings,If you're willing,That’s fifteen pence each.And thus the poor one escaped unscathed.
We conclude in the words of Shakespeare,—
We wrap up with Shakespeare's words,—
They cried tears of joy all of a sudden,And I sang out of sorrow,That such a king would play bo-peep,And be foolish among the fools.
MISCELLANEOUS PUERILE AMUSEMENTS.
I went to the sea,And saw twentyGeese all in a row:I'd give my gloveFull of gold if my wifeWere as white as those.
These lines are to be repeated rapidly and correctly, inserting the word cother after every word, under pain of a forfeit.
These lines need to be repeated quickly and accurately, adding the word cother after every word, or you'll face a penalty.
I think it's time for us to go,The little dog says it's not time,But it is, it isn't, it is, and so on.
Said by a schoolboy, who places his book between his knees. His two forefingers are then placed together, and the breadth of each is measured alternately along the length of the book. The time to get leave (to be dismissed) is supposed to have arrived or not according as one finger or the other fills up the last space.
Said by a schoolboy, who puts his book between his knees. He then places his two forefingers together, and each finger’s width is alternately measured along the length of the book. It's supposed that the time to get dismissed has arrived or not depending on which finger fills the last space.
A female duck and a male duck,And a white penny cake.It's time to head home,It is, it isn't, etc.
So going on with the fingers one over the other along the edge of a book or desk, till the last finger determines the question.
So continuing to slide one finger over another along the edge of a book or desk, until the last finger decides the question.
Stick your finger in Foxy's hole,Foxy isn't home:Foxy's out back,Gnawing on a bone.
Holding the fist in such a way that if a child puts its finger in, you can secure it, still leaving the hole at top open.
Holding your fist in a way that if a child puts their finger in, you can grip it while keeping the opening at the top clear.
Jack is alive and doing well,If he dies in your care, you need to take responsibility.
Played with a stick, one end burnt red-hot: it is passed round a circle from one to the other, the one who passes it saying this, and the one whose hand it goes out in paying a forfeit.
Played with a stick, one end burnt red-hot: it's passed around in a circle from one person to another, the person passing it saying this, and the person who gets it when it goes out of their hand owes a forfeit.
SEE-SAW.
A common game, children vacillating on either end of a plank supported on its centre. While enjoying this recreation, they have a song of appropriate cadence, the burden of which is,—
A common game where kids wobble on either end of a plank balanced in the middle. While having fun with this activity, they sing a song that fits the rhythm, the main part of which goes,—
Titty cum tawtay,The ducks in the water:Titty cum tawtay,The geese follow after.
HITTY-TITTY.
Hitty-titty inside,Hitty-titty outside;You touch Hitty-titty,And Hitty-titty will bite you.
These lines are said by children when one of them has hid herself. They then run away, and the one who is bitten (caught) becomes Hitty-titty, and hides in her turn. A variation of the above lines occurs in MS. Harl. 1962, as a riddle, the solution of which is a nettle.
These lines are said by kids when one of them hides. They then run away, and the one who gets caught becomes Hitty-titty and hides next. A variation of these lines appears in MS. Harl. 1962, as a riddle, whose answer is a nettle.
BEANS AND BUTTER.
So the game of hide-and-seek is called in some parts of Oxfordshire. Children hide from each other, and when it is time to commence the search, the cry is,
So in some areas of Oxfordshire, the game of hide-and-seek is known as that. Kids hide from one another, and when it's time to start the search, the call is,
Hot boiled beans and really great butter,Please come join us for dinner!
DROP-CAP.
In the game where the following lines are used, one person goes round inside a ring of children, clapping a cap between his hands. When he drops it at the foot of any one, that one leaves his position and gives chase, and is obliged to thread the very same course among the children till the first is caught. The first then stands with his back towards the centre of the ring, the one called out takes his place, and thus they continue till nearly all are "turned."
In the game described in the following lines, one person walks around inside a ring of children, clapping a hat between their hands. When they drop it at the feet of someone, that person leaves their spot and chases after them, following the same path among the children until the first person is caught. The first person then stands with their back to the center of the ring, and the one who was called out takes their place. They keep going like this until almost everyone has been "turned."
My hand feels on fire,And to the one I love the most, I'll drop this at his feet!
MY SOW HAS PIGGED.
A game at cards, played now only by children. It is alluded to by Taylor the Water-poet, in his Motto, 12mo. Lond. 1622, and it is also mentioned in Poor Robin's Almanac for 1734. The following distich is used in this game:
A card game, now only played by kids. Taylor the Water-poet references it in his Motto, 12mo. Lond. 1622, and it’s also mentioned in Poor Robin's Almanac for 1734. The following couplet is used in this game:
Hickory, dickory, dock,My sow has given birth to piglets.
NIDDY-NODDY.
A simple but very amusing game at cards, at which any number can play. The cards are dealt round, and one person commences the game by placing down a card, and the persons next in succession who hold the same card in the various suits place them down upon it, the holder of the last winning the trick. The four persons who hold the cards say, when they put them down,—
A straightforward yet entertaining card game that anyone can join. The cards are dealt to everyone, and one player starts the game by putting down a card. Then, the next players in line who have the same card in different suits place theirs on top, with the last person to play winning the trick. The four players who have the cards say, as they lay them down,—
1. There's a great card for you.2. There's an even better one than him!3. And the best of all three.4. And there is Niddy-noddee!
The person who is first out, receives a fish for each card unplayed.
The first person out gets a fish for every card left unplayed.
SLATE GAMES.
Entertaining puzzles or exercises upon the slate are generally great favorites with children. A great variety of them are current in the nursery, or rather were so some years ago. The story of the four rich men, the four poor men, and the pond, was one of these; the difficulty merely requiring a zig-zag inclosure to enable it to be satisfactorily solved.
Entertaining puzzles or exercises on the chalkboard are usually big favorites with kids. There's a wide range of them popular in the playroom, or at least there were a few years back. The tale of the four wealthy men, the four poor men, and the pond was one of these; the challenge just needed a zigzag enclosure to be solved successfully.
Once upon a time there was a pond lying upon common land, which was extremely commodious for fishing, bathing, and various other purposes. Not far from it lived four poor men, to whom it was of great service; and farther off, their lived four rich men. The latter envied the poor men the use of the pond, and, as inclosure bills had not then come into fashion, they wished to invent an inclosure-wall which should shut out the poor men from the pond, although they lived so near it, and still give free access to the rich men, who resided at a greater distance. How was this done?
Once upon a time, there was a pond on common land that was great for fishing, swimming, and many other activities. Not far from it lived four poor men who relied on it a lot; and further away, there lived four wealthy men. The wealthy men envied the poor men’s access to the pond, and since enclosure laws hadn't become popular yet, they wanted to create a wall that would keep the poor men out, even though they lived nearby, while allowing the rich men, who lived further away, to use it freely. How did they accomplish this?
GAME OF THE CAT.
This is another slate game, in which, by means of a tale and appropriate indications on the slate, a rude figure of a cat is delineated. It requires, however, some little ingenuity to accomplish it.
This is another slate game where, through a story and the right markings on the slate, a rough drawing of a cat is made. It does, however, take a bit of creativity to pull it off.
Tommy would once go to see his cousin Charles. [Here one draws T for Tommy, and C for Charles, forming the forehead, nose, and mouth of the cat.] But before he went, he would make walls to his house. [Here he draws lines from the arms of the T to its foot, forming the cheeks of the cat.] But then it smoked, and he would put chimneys to it. [Here he inserts two narrow triangles on each arm of the T, forming the ears of the cat.] But then it was so dark, he would put windows into it. [Here he draws a small circle under each arm of the T, forming the eyes.] Then to make it pretty, he would spread grass at the door. [Here he scratches lines at the foot of the T, representing the cat's whiskers.] Then away he went on his journey, but after a little while, down he fell. [Here he draws down a line a little way from the foot of the T.] But he soon climbed up again. [Here he draws a zig-zag horizontally from the foot of the last line, and draws one up, forming with the last movement the first foot of the cat.] Then he walks along again, but soon falls down once more. [Here he draws a short horizontal line, and one downwards.] He soon, however, got up again, as before, &c. [The second leg is then formed, and by similar movements the four legs of the cat appear.] After thus falling down four times, Tommy determined to proceed more firmly, and climbing up, he walks along [the back of the cat] another way round till he comes to C. His journey is now accomplished, and an animal, called by courtesy a cat, appears on the slate, "the admiration of all beholders."
Tommy would go to visit his cousin Charles. [Here one draws T for Tommy, and C for Charles, forming the forehead, nose, and mouth of the cat.] But before he left, he would build walls for his house. [Here he draws lines from the arms of the T to its foot, forming the cheeks of the cat.] Then it started to smoke, so he added chimneys. [Here he inserts two narrow triangles on each arm of the T, forming the ears of the cat.] But it got too dark, so he added windows. [Here he draws a small circle under each arm of the T, forming the eyes.] To make it look nice, he would spread grass at the door. [Here he scratches lines at the foot of the T, representing the cat's whiskers.] Then he set off on his journey, but after a little while, he fell down. [Here he draws down a line a little way from the foot of the T.] But he quickly climbed back up. [Here he draws a zig-zag horizontally from the foot of the last line, and draws one up, forming with the last movement the first foot of the cat.] Then he walks along again, but soon falls down again. [Here he draws a short horizontal line and one downwards.] He soon got up again, just like before, etc. [The second leg is then formed, and by similar movements, the four legs of the cat appear.] After falling down four times, Tommy decided to move more carefully, and climbing up, he walks along [the back of the cat] in another direction until he reaches C. His journey is now complete, and an animal, politely called a cat, appears on the slate, "the admiration of all who see it."
HANDY-DANDY.
This game is now played as follows:—a child hides something in one hand, and then places both fists endways on each other, crying,—
This game is now played like this: a child hides something in one hand, then puts both fists on top of each other, saying,—
Super handy riddledy ro,Which one do you want, high or low?
Or, sometimes, the following distich,—
Or, sometimes, the following couplet,—
Handy-dandy, Jack-a-dandy,Which good hand will you choose?
The party addressed either touches one hand, or guesses in which one the article (whatever it may be) is placed. If he guesses rightly, he wins its contents; if wrongly, he loses an equivalent.
The party either touches one hand or guesses which one the item (whatever it is) is in. If they guess correctly, they win the contents; if not, they lose something of equal value.
Some versions read handy-pandy in the first of these, with another variation, that would not now be tolerated. This is one of the oldest English games in existence, and appears to be alluded to in Piers Ploughman, ed. Wright, p. 69:
Some versions say handy-pandy in the first of these, with another variation that wouldn't be accepted today. This is one of the oldest English games around and seems to be referenced in Piers Ploughman, ed. Wright, p. 69:
Then Wrong fell in loveWith Wisdom so eager,To make peace with his pens,Handy-dandy played.
Florio, in his World of Worlds, ed. 1611, p. 57, translates bazziciúre, "to shake between two hands, to play handie-dandie." Miege, in his Great French Dictionary, 1688, says, "Handy-dandy, a kind of play with the hands, sorte de jeu de main;" and Douce, ii. 167, quotes an early MS., which thus curiously mentions the game: "They hould safe your children's patrymony, and play with your majestie, as men play with little children at handye-dandye, which hand will you have, when they are disposed to keep anythinge from them." Some of the commentators on Shakespeare have mistaken the character of the game, from having adopted Coles's erroneous interpretation of micare digitis. Sometimes the game is played by a sort of sleight of hand, changing the article rapidly from one hand into the other, so that the looker-on is often deceived, and induced to name the hand into which it is apparently thrown. This is what Shakespeare alludes to by changing places.
Florio, in his *World of Worlds*, ed. 1611, p. 57, translates bazziciúre as "to shake between two hands, to play handie-dandie." Miege, in his *Great French Dictionary*, 1688, describes "Handy-dandy" as a kind of hand game, sorte de jeu de main; and Douce, ii. 167, quotes an early manuscript that mentions the game in a curious way: "They hold safe your children's patrimony and play with your majesty, like men play with little children at handye-dandye, which hand will you have, when they are inclined to keep anything from them." Some commentators on Shakespeare have misunderstood the nature of the game due to Coles's incorrect interpretation of micare digitis. Sometimes the game involves a sort of sleight of hand, quickly switching the item from one hand to the other, which often deceives the observer and leads them to guess the hand where it seems to have been placed. This is what Shakespeare refers to by changing places.
Pope, in his Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus, says that the game of handy-dandy is mentioned by Plato; but if, as I suppose, he refers to a well-known passage in the Lysis, the allusion appears somewhat too indistinct to warrant such an assertion,—αστρα γαλιζοντας τε δη και κεκοσμημενους ἁπαντας. ὁι μεν ουν πολλοι εν τη αυλῃ επαιζον εξω. ὁι δε τινες του αποδυτηριου εν γωνιᾳ ηρτιαζον αστραγαλοις παμπολλοις, εκ φορμισκων τινων προαιρουμενοι. A passage, however, in Julius Pollux, ix. 101, referring to this, is rather more distinct, and may allude to one form of the game.—Και μην και αρτιαζειν, αστραγαλους εκ φορμισκων καθαιρομενους εν τῳ αποδυτηριῳ τους παιδας, ὁ Πλατων εφη. το δε αρτιαζειν εν αστραγαλων πληθει κεκρυμμενων ὑπο ταιν χεροιν, μαντειαν ειχε των αρτιων η και περιττων. ταυτο δε τουτο και κυαμοις, η καρυοις τε και αμυγδαλαις, ὁι δε και αργυριῳ πραττειν ηξιουν, a passage which Meursius, de Ludis Græcorum, ed. 1625, p. 5, thus partially translates, "nempe ludentes sumptis in manu talis, fabis, nucibus, amygdalis, interdum etiam nummis, interrogantes alterum divinare jubebant." Here we have the exact game of handy-dandy, which is, after all, the simple form of the odd and even of children.
Pope, in his Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus, mentions that Plato refers to the game of handy-dandy; however, if he’s talking about a well-known passage in the Lysis, the reference seems too vague to support such a claim,—αστρα γαλιζοντας τε δη και κεκοσμημενους ἁπαντας. ὁι μεν ουν πολλοι εν τη αυλῃ επαιζον εξω. ὁι δε τινες του αποδυτηριου εν γωνιᾳ ηρτιαζον αστραγαλοις παμπολλοις, εκ φορμισκων τινων προαιρουμενοι. A passage, though, in Julius Pollux, ix. 101, that refers to this, is a bit clearer and might refer to one version of the game.—Και μην και αρτιαζειν, αστραγαλους εκ φορμισκων καθαιρομενους εν τῳ αποδυτηριῳ τους παιδας, ὁ Πλατων εφη. το δε αρτιαζειν εν αστραγαλων πληθει κεκρυμμενων ὑπο ταιν χεροιν, μαντειαν ειχε των αρτιων η και περιττων. ταυτο δε τουτο και κυαμοις, η καρυοις τε και αμυγδαλαις, ὁι δε και αργυριῳ πραττειν ηξιουν, a passage which Meursius, de Ludis Græcorum, ed. 1625, p. 5, partially translates as "that when players took in hand beans, nuts, almonds, and sometimes even coins, they would ask one another to guess." Here we have the exact game of handy-dandy, which is essentially just the simple children's game of odd and even.
Browne has a curious allusion to this game in Britannia's Pastorals, i. 5,—
Browne makes an interesting reference to this game in Britannia's Pastorals, i. 5,—
Anyone who has seen young boys having fun,Running in shallow water to the sandy banks,Where they seriously dig wells,Or build childish kinds of sandcastles;Or splash water back and forth,Or play games with pebbles.
BARLEY-BRIDGE.
A string of boys and girls, each holding by his predecessor's skirts, approaches two others, who, with joined and elevated hands, form a double arch. After the dialogue is concluded, the line passes through the arch, and the last is caught, if possible, by the sudden lowering of the arms.
A line of boys and girls, each holding onto the skirt of the person in front of them, moves towards two others, who, with their hands joined and raised, create a double arch. Once the conversation is finished, the line goes through the arch, and the last one is caught, if possible, by the sudden lowering of the arms.
"How many miles to Barley-bridge?""Seventy.""Can I get there by candlelight?""Yes, if your legs are long enough.""A courtesy to you, and a courtesy to you,If you don’t mind, will you let the king's horses through?"Through and through they shall go,For the king's sake;But the one that is lastWill run into a big problem.
THE TOWN LOVERS.
A game played by boys and girls. A girl is placed in the middle of a ring, and says the following lines, the names being altered to suit the party. She points to each one named, and at the last line, the party selected immediately runs away, and if the girl catches him, he pays a forfeit, or the game is commenced again, the boy being placed in the middle, and the lines, mutatis mutandis, serve for a reversed amusement:
A game played by boys and girls. A girl stands in the middle of a circle and says the following lines, changing the names to fit the group. She points to each person named, and at the last line, the chosen person immediately runs away, and if the girl catches them, they owe a forfeit, or the game starts again with a boy in the middle, and the lines, mutatis mutandis, work for a reversed fun:
There’s a girl in our town,She often wears a floral dress:Tommy loves her all the time,And Richard when he gets the chance,And Johnny when he can:I think Sam will be the one!
MARY BROWN. FAIR GUNDELA.
A slightly dramatic character may be observed in this game, which was obtained from Essex. Children form a ring, one girl kneeling in the centre, and sorrowfully hiding her face with her hands. One in the ring then says,—
A somewhat dramatic element can be seen in this game, which was sourced from Essex. Kids form a circle, with one girl kneeling in the center, sadly covering her face with her hands. One person in the circle then says,—
Here we all stand around the ring,And now we shut poor Mary in;Get up, get up, poor Mary Brown,And watch your poor mother walk through the town.
To this she answers,—
To this she replies,—
I won't get up on my feet,To watch my poor mother walk down the street.
The children then cry,—
The kids then cry,—
Get up, get up, poor Mary Brown,And watch your poor father walk through the town.Mary.I won’t get up on my feet,To see my poor father walk down the street.Children.Get up, get up, poor Mary Brown,To see your poor brother walk through the town.Mary.I won’t get up on my feet,To see my poor brother walk down the street.Children.Get up, get up, poor Mary Brown,To see your poor sister walk through the town.Mary.I won’t get up on my feet,To see my poor sister walk down the street.Children.Get up, get up, poor Mary Brown,To see the poor beggars walk through the town.Mary.I won’t get up on my feet,To see the poor beggars walk down the street.
One would have thought that this tiresome repetition had been continued quite long enough, but two other verses are sometimes added, introducing gentlemen and ladies with the same questions, to both of which it is unnecessary to say that the callous and hardhearted Mary Brown replies with perfect indifference and want of curiosity. All versions, however, conclude with the girls saying,—
One would think that this tedious repetition has gone on long enough, but two more verses are sometimes added, bringing in gentlemen and ladies who ask the same questions, to which the callous and unfeeling Mary Brown responds with complete indifference and lack of curiosity. All versions, however, end with the girls saying,—
Get up, get up, poor Mary Brown,And watch your unfortunate sweetheart walk through the town.
The chord is at last touched, and Mary, frantically replying,—
The chord is finally played, and Mary, responding urgently,—
I will stand up,To watch my sweetheart walking down the street,
rushes with impetuosity to break the ring, and generally succeeds in escaping the bonds that detain her from her imaginary love.
rushes forward with urgency to break the circle, and usually manages to escape the ties that keep her away from her imagined love.
The Swedish ballad of the "Maiden that was sold into Slavery," has a similar dramatic character. (See an article by Mr. Stephens, on the Popular Ballads and Songs of Sweden, in the Foreign Quarterly Review for 1840.) Another Swedish ballad, or ring-dance song, entitled, "Fair Gundela," is, however, more analogous to the above. A girl sits on a stool or chair within a ring of dancers; and, with something in her hands, imitates the action of rowing. She should have a veil on her head, and at the news of her sweetheart's death, let it fall over her face, and sink down, overwhelmed with sorrow. The ring of girls dance round her, singing and pausing, and she sings in reply. The dialogue is conducted in the following manner:
The Swedish ballad "The Maiden Sold into Slavery" has a similar dramatic vibe. (Check out an article by Mr. Stephens on the Popular Ballads and Songs of Sweden in the Foreign Quarterly Review from 1840.) Another Swedish ballad, or ring-dance song, called "Fair Gundela," is actually closer to the one mentioned above. A girl sits on a stool or chair inside a circle of dancers and, holding something in her hands, pretends to row. She should wear a veil on her head, and when she hears the news of her lover's death, she lets it fall over her face and sinks down, overwhelmed with grief. The circle of girls dances around her, singing and pausing, while she sings back in response. The dialogue is carried out like this:
The Ring.Why are you rowing so, why are you rowing so?Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.Of course I can row, yes, I can row,As long as the grass grows,All summer long.The Ring.But now I've heard that your father is dead,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my father is dead? My mother is still alive.Ah, thank heaven for that!The Ring.But now I've heard that your mother is dead,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my mother is dead? My brother is still alive.Ah, thank heaven for that!The Ring.But now I've heard that your brother is dead,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my brother is dead? My sister is still alive.Ah, thank heaven for that!The Ring.But now I've heard that your sister is dead,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my sister is dead? My sweetheart is still alive.Ah, thank heaven for that!The Ring.But now I've heard that your sweetheart is dead,Beautiful Gundela![Here she sinks down overwhelmed with grief.]Gundela.Say! Can it be true,What you now tell me,That my sweetheart is no longer here?Ah, God have mercy on me!The Ring.But now I've heard that your father is still alive,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my father is alive? My sweetheart is no more!Ah, God have mercy on me!The Ring.But now I've heard that your mother is still alive,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my mother is alive? My sweetheart is no more!Ah, God have mercy on me!The Ring.But now I've heard that your brother is still alive,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my brother is alive? My sweetheart is no more!Ah, God have mercy on me!The Ring.But now I've heard that your sister is still alive,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.What does it matter if my sister is alive? My sweetheart is no more!Ah, God have mercy on me!The Ring.But now I've heard that your sweetheart is still alive,Beautiful Gundela!Gundela.Say! Can it be trueWhat you now tell me,That my sweetheart is still alive?Thank God, thank God for that!
The veil is thrown on one side, her face beams with joy, the circle is broken, and the juvenile drama concludes with merriment and noise. It is difficult to say whether this is the real prototype of the English game, or whether they are both indebted to a still more primitive original. There is a poetical sweetness and absolute dramatic fervour in the Swedish ballad we vainly try to discover in the English version. In the latter, all is vulgar, common-place, and phlegmatic. Cannot we trace in both the national character? Do we not see in the last that poetic simplicity which has made the works of Andersen so popular and irresistibly charming? It may be that the style pleases by contrast, and that we appreciate its genuine chasteness the more, because we have nothing similar to it in our own vernacular literature.
The veil is pushed to one side, her face lights up with joy, the circle is broken, and the youthful drama wraps up with fun and noise. It's hard to tell if this is the true original version of the English game, or if they're both inspired by a more primitive source. There's a poetic sweetness and intense dramatic expression in the Swedish ballad that we can't quite find in the English version. In the latter, everything feels mundane, ordinary, and unemotional. Can we not see the national character in both? Don’t we notice in the latter that poetic simplicity that makes Andersen's works so beloved and irresistibly charming? Perhaps it's that the style appeals to us by contrast, and we appreciate its genuine purity more because we don’t have anything like it in our own literature.
MY DAUGHTER JANE.
Eccleshall version, played as a game by the schoolgirls. See the Nursery Rhymes of England, p. 114.
Eccleshall version, played as a game by the schoolgirls. See the Nursery Rhymes of England, p. 114.
Suitors.Here come two dukes from Spain,Courting your daughter Jane.Mother.My daughter Jane is still so young,She can’t stand your flattering words.Suitor.Whether she’s young or old,She has a price, she must be soldFor either silver or for gold.So, farewell, my lady fair,For I must go somewhere else.Mother.Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,And polish your spurs until they shine.Suitor.My spurs are made of the finest quality,And they weren’t bought in this town;Nor will they be sold here,Neither for silver nor for gold.So, farewell, my lady fair,For I must go somewhere else.Through the kitchen and through the hall,And take the fairest of them all;The fairest, as I can see, isPretty Jane, come here to me.Now I’ve got my pretty fair maid,Now I’ve got my pretty fair maidTo dance along with me—To dance along with me!
There is a different version in Cambridgeshire, but the girl recollects it so imperfectly, and only two stanzas, that I cannot depend upon their being correct.
There’s a different version in Cambridgeshire, but the girl remembers it so poorly, and only two stanzas, that I can’t rely on their accuracy.
Here come three lords all dressed in green,Because of your daughter Jane.My daughter Jane is so young,She’s learning to speak with a charming tone.Whether she’s young or whether she’s old,Her beauty must be sold.My mead isn't ready, my cake isn't baked,And you can’t have my daughter Jane.
HEWLEY-PULEY.
The children are seated and the following questions put by one of the party, holding a twisted handkerchief or something of the sort in the hand. The handkerchief was called hewley-puley, and the questions are asked by the child who holds it. If one answered wrongly, a box on the ear with the handkerchief was the consequence; but if they all replied correctly, then the one who broke silence first had that punishment.
The kids are sitting down, and one of them, holding a twisted handkerchief or something similar, asks the following questions. The handkerchief is called hewley-puley, and the child holding it asks the questions. If someone answers incorrectly, they get a slap on the ear with the handkerchief; but if everyone answers correctly, then the first one to break silence gets that punishment.
Here, take this! What is it?—Hewley-puley.Where's my share?—It's around the kite's neck.Where's the kite?—It’s flown to the woods.Where are the woods?—The fire has burned them down.Where's the fire?—The water has put it out.Where's the water?—The ox has drunk it all.Where's the ox?—The butcher has slaughtered it.Where's the butcher?—The rope has hanged him.Where's the rope?—The rat has gnawed on it.Where's the rat?—The cat has killed it.Where's the cat?—Behind the church door,cracking pebble-stones and marrow-bonesfor your supper and mine,and whoever speaks firstwill get a slap on the ear.
THE DIAMOND RING.
Children sit in a ring or in a line, with their hands placed together palm to palm, and held straight, the little fingers downmost between the knees. One of them is then chosen to represent a servant, who takes a ring, or some other small article as a substitute, between her two palms, which are pressed flat together like those of the rest, and goes round the circle or line, placing her hands into the hands of every player, so that she is enabled to let the ring fall wherever she pleases without detection. After this, she returns to the first child she touched, and with her hands behind her exclaims,—
Children sit in a circle or in a line, with their hands together palm to palm, held straight, and their little fingers resting between their knees. One child is chosen to play the servant, who takes a ring or some other small item as a substitute, holding it between her two palms pressed flat like the others. She moves around the circle or line, placing her hands in the hands of each player, allowing her to drop the ring wherever she wants without being noticed. After this, she goes back to the first child she touched and, with her hands behind her back, exclaims,—
My lady has lost her diamond ring:I'm counting on you to find it!
The child who is thus addressed must guess who has the ring, and the servant performs the same ceremony with each of the party. They who guess right, escape; but the rest forfeit. Should any one in the ring exclaim, "I have it," she also forfeits; nor must the servant make known who has the ring, until all have guessed, under the same penalty. The forfeits are afterwards cried as usual.
The child who is being spoken to must figure out who has the ring, and the servant goes through the same ritual with everyone in the group. Those who guess correctly get to leave; the others lose. If anyone in the ring shouts, "I have it," that person also loses; and the servant can't reveal who has the ring until everyone has guessed, or they face the same penalty. The losses are then announced as usual.
THE POOR SOLDIER.
Children form a half-circle, first choosing one of their number to represent the poor soldier. The chief regulation is that none of the players may use the words, yes, no, black, white, or gray. The poor soldier traverses the semicircle, thus addressing each player,—
Children gather in a half-circle, first picking one of their group to play the role of the poor soldier. The main rule is that none of the players can say the words, yes, no, black, white, or gray. The poor soldier walks through the semicircle, speaking to each player,—
Look, a poor soldier has come to town!Do you have anything to give him?
The answer must of course be evasive, else there is a fine. He continues, "Have you a pair of trousers [or old coat, shoes, cap, &c.] to give me?" The answer must again be evasive, or else another forfeit. The old soldier then asks: "Well, what colour is it?" The reply must avoid the forbidden colours, or another forfeit is the penalty. Great ingenuity may be exhibited in the manner in which the questions and answers are constructed, and, in the hands of some children, this is a most amusing recreation. The forfeits are of course cried at the end of the game.
The answer has to be vague, or there’s a penalty. He goes on, "Do you have a pair of pants [or an old coat, shoes, hat, etc.] to give me?" The answer has to be vague again, or there’s another penalty. The old soldier then asks, "So, what color is it?" The response must avoid the banned colors, or there’s a penalty again. Great creativity can be shown in how the questions and answers are framed, and for some kids, this becomes a really entertaining game. The penalties are called out at the end of the game.
THE BRAMBLE-BUSH.
A ring-dance imitation-play, the metrical portion of which is not without a little melody. The bramble-bush is often imaginative, but sometimes represented by a child in the centre of the ring. All join hands, and dance round in a circle, singing,—
A ring dance imitation play, the rhythmic part of which has a bit of melody. The bramble bush is often creative but sometimes shown by a child in the middle of the circle. Everyone joins hands and dances around in a circle, singing,—
Here we go around the bramble bush,—The bramble bush, the bramble bush:Here we go around the bramble bushOn a cold, frosty morning!
After the chanting of this verse is ended, all the children commence an imitation of washing clothes, making appropriate movements with their hands, and saying,—
After the chanting of this verse is finished, all the children start pretending to wash clothes, making suitable motions with their hands, and saying,—
This is how we do laundry,—Do laundry, do laundry:This is how we do laundryOn a chilly, frosty morning!
They then dance round, repeating the first stanza, after which the operation of drying the clothes is commenced with a similar verse, "This is the way we dry our clothes," &c. The game may be continued almost ad infinitum by increasing the number of duties to be performed. They are, however, generally satisfied with mangling, smoothing or ironing, the clothes, and then putting them away. Sometimes they conclude with a general cleaning, which may well be necessary after the large quantity of work that has been done:
They then dance around, repeating the first verse, after which they start drying the clothes with a similar line, "This is how we dry our clothes," etc. The game can go on almost forever by adding more tasks to do. However, they usually settle for mangling, smoothing, or ironing the clothes, and then putting them away. Sometimes they finish with a general cleaning, which might be needed after all the work that's been done.
This is how we tidy up our rooms,—Tidy up our rooms, tidy up our rooms:This is how we tidy up our roomsOn a chilly, frosty morning!
And like good merry washing-women, they are not exhausted with their labours, but conclude with the song, "Here we go round the bramble-bush," having had sufficient exercise to warm themselves on any "cold frosty morning," which was doubtlessly the result, we may observe en passant, as a matter of domestic economy, aimed at by the author. It is not so easy to give a similar explanation to the game of the mulberry-bush, conducted in the same manner:
And like cheerful washing women, they aren’t worn out from their work, but instead finish with the song, "Here we go round the bramble-bush," having gotten enough exercise to warm themselves on any "cold frosty morning," which was certainly, we might note en passant, a point of domestic economy made by the author. It’s not as easy to offer a similar explanation for the game of the mulberry-bush, played in the same way:
Here we go around the mulberry bush,—The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush:Here we go around the mulberry bushOn a sunny morning.
In this game, the motion-cries are usually "This is the way we wash our clothes," "This is the way we dry our clothes," "This is the way we make our shoes," "This is the way we mend our shoes," "This is the way the gentlemen walk," "This is the way the ladies walk," &c. As in other cases, the dance may be continued by the addition of cries and motions, which may be rendered pretty and characteristic in the hands of judicious actors. This game, however, requires too much exercise to render it so appropriate to the season as the other.
In this game, the motions are usually "This is how we wash our clothes," "This is how we dry our clothes," "This is how we make our shoes," "This is how we fix our shoes," "This is how the men walk," "This is how the women walk," etc. Just like in other cases, the dance can go on by adding more phrases and movements, which can look nice and unique when performed by skilled actors. However, this game demands too much physical activity to be as fitting for the season as the others.
THE GAME OF DUMP.
A boy's amusement in Yorkshire, in vogue about half a century ago, but now, I believe, nearly obsolete. It is played in this manner. The lads crowd round, and place their fists endways the one on the other, till they form a high pile of hands. Then a boy who has one hand free, knocks the piled fists off one by one, saying to every boy, as he strikes his fist away, "What's there, Dump?" He continues this process till he comes to the last fist, when he exclaims:
A boy's game in Yorkshire that was popular around fifty years ago but is now almost gone, I think. Here's how it's played. The boys gather around and stack their fists on top of each other, creating a tall pile. Then, a boy with one hand free knocks the fists off one by one, asking each boy as he swats their fist away, "What's there, Dump?" He keeps this up until he gets to the last fist, when he shouts:
What’s there?Cheese and bread, and a moldy halfpenny!Where’s my share?I put it on the shelf, but the cat got it.Where’s the cat?She’s run nine miles through the woods.Where’s the woods?The fire burned it.Where’s the fire?The water put it out.Where’s the water?The oxen drank it.Where are the oxen?The butcher killed them.Where’s the butcher?He's up on the church roof cracking nuts, and you can go eat the shells; and whoever speaks first will get nine nips, nine scratches, and nine slaps over the ear!
Every one then endeavours to refrain from speaking, in spite of mutual nudges and grimaces, and he who first allows a word to escape is punished by the others in the various methods adopted by schoolboys. In some places the game is played differently. The children pile their fists in the manner described above; then one, or sometimes all of them sing,—
Every one then tries to hold back from talking, despite everyone nudging and making faces at each other, and whoever speaks first is teased by the others in the typical ways that schoolboys do. In some places, the game works differently. The kids stack their fists as described above; then one, or sometimes all of them, sing,—
I've built my house, I've built my wall;I don't care where my chimneys drop!
The merriment consists in the bustle and confusion occasioned by the rapid withdrawal of the hands.
The fun comes from the hustle and bustle caused by the quick pulling back of the hands.
DANCING LOOBY.
Now we dance looby, looby, looby,Now we dance looby, looby, light.Shake your right hand a bitAnd turn around.Now we dance looby, looby, looby,Shake your right hand a bit,Shake your left hand a bit,And turn around.Now we dance looby, looby, looby,Shake your right hand a bit,Shake your left hand a bit,Shake your right foot a bit,And turn around.Now we dance looby, looby, looby,Shake your right hand a bit,Shake your left hand a bit,Shake your right foot a bit,Shake your left foot a bit,And turn around.Now we dance looby, looby, looby,Shake your right hand a bit,Shake your left hand a bit,Shake your right foot a bit,Shake your left foot a bit,Shake your head a bit,And turn around.
Children dance round first, then stop and shake the hand, &c., then turn slowly round, and then dance in a ring again.
Children dance in a circle first, then stop and shake hands, etc., then turn slowly around, and dance in a circle again.
DROP-GLOVE.
Children stand round in a circle, leaving a space between each. One walks round the outside, and carries a glove in her hand, saying,
Children stand in a circle, leaving space between each of them. One person walks around the outside, holding a glove in her hand, saying,
I have a glove in my hand,Hittity Hot!Another in my other hand,Hotter than that!So I plant beans, and they grow,Some in a mug, and some in a cup.I sent a letter to my love,I lost it, I lost it!I found it, I found it!It burns, it scalds!
Repeating the last words very rapidly, till she drops the glove behind one of them, and whoever has the glove must overtake her, following her exactly in and out till she catches her. If the pursuer makes a mistake in the pursuit, she loses, and the game is over; otherwise she continues the game with the glove.
Repeating the last words quickly until she drops the glove behind one of them, and whoever has the glove must catch up to her, following her exactly in and out until she catches her. If the pursuer makes a mistake during the chase, she loses, and the game ends; otherwise, she continues the game with the glove.
NETTLES GROW IN AN ANGRY BUSH.
Nettles grow in a prickly bush,A prickly bush, a prickly bush;Nettles grow in a prickly bush,With my High, Ho, Ham!This is how the lady goes,The lady goes, the lady goes;This is how the lady goes,With my High, Ho, Ham!
The children dance round, singing the first three lines, turning round and clapping hands for the fourth line. They curtsey while saying "this is the way the lady goes," and again turn round and clap hands for the last line. The same process is followed in every verse, only varying what they act,—thus, in the third verse, they bow for the gentleman,—
The kids dance around, singing the first three lines, turning to clap for the fourth line. They curtsy while saying "this is how the lady goes," and then turn around and clap for the last line. They repeat this for each verse, just changing what they act out—so in the third verse, they bow for the gentleman,—
Nettles grow in a prickly bush, etc.This is how the gentleman walks, etc.Nettles grow in a prickly bush, etc.This is how the tailor walks, etc.
And so the amusement is protracted ad libitum, with shoemaking, washing the clothes, ironing, churning, milking, making up butter, &c.
And so the fun goes on ad libitum, with shoemaking, washing clothes, ironing, churning, milking, making butter, etc.
GAME OF THE GIPSY.
One child is selected for Gipsy, one for Mother, and one for Daughter Sue. The Mother says,—
One child is chosen for Gipsy, one for Mother, and one for Daughter Sue. The Mother says,—
I tell my daughters every timeTo manage the house while I'm away.You and you (points) but especially you,[Or sometimes, but especially Sue.]Otherwise, I'll really punish you.
During the Mother's absence, the Gipsy comes in, entices a child away, and hides her. This process is repeated till all the children are hidden, when the Mother has to find them.
During the Mother's absence, the Gypsy comes in, lures a child away, and hides her. This happens repeatedly until all the children are hidden, and then the Mother has to find them.
GAME OF THE FOX.
One child is Fox. He has a knotted handkerchief, and a home to which he may go whenever he is tired, but while out of home he must always hop on one leg. The other children are geese, and have no home. When the Fox is coming out he says,—
One kid is Fox. He has a knotted handkerchief and a home he can go back to whenever he gets tired, but when he's outside, he has to hop on one leg. The other kids are geese and don’t have a home. When the Fox comes out, he says,—
The Fox alerts youIt's a chilly, frosty morning.
After he has said these words he is at liberty to hop out, and use his knotted handkerchief. Whoever he can touch is Fox instead, but the geese run on two legs, and if the Fox puts his other leg down, he is hunted back to his home.
After he says these words, he can jump out and use his knotted handkerchief. Anyone he touches becomes the Fox instead, but the geese run on two legs, and if the Fox puts his other leg down, he gets chased back to his home.
THE OLD DAME.
One child, called the Old Dame, sits on the floor, and the rest, joining hands, form a circle round her, and dancing, sing the following lines:
One child, known as the Old Dame, sits on the floor, while the others, holding hands, form a circle around her, and dancing, sing these lines:
Children.To Beccles! to Beccles!To buy a bunch of nettles!Please, Old Dame, what time is it?Dame.One, heading for two.Children.To Beccles! to Beccles!To buy a bunch of nettles!Please, Old Dame, what time is it?Dame.Two, heading for three.
And so on till she reaches, "Eleven going for twelve." After this the following questions are asked, with the replies.—C. Where have you been? D. To the wood. C. What for? D. To pick up sticks. C. What for? D. To light my fire. C. What for? D. To boil my kettle. C. What for? D. To cook some of your chickens. The children then all run away as fast as they can, and the Old Dame tries to catch one of them. Whoever is caught is the next to personate the Dame.
And so on until she gets to, "Eleven going for twelve." After that, the following questions are asked, along with the answers. C. Where have you been? D. To the woods. C. What for? D. To pick up sticks. C. What for? D. To light my fire. C. What for? D. To boil my kettle. C. What for? D. To cook some of your chickens. The kids then all run away as fast as they can, and the Old Dame tries to catch one of them. Whoever gets caught is the next to act like the Dame.
THE POOR WOMAN OF BABYLON.
One child stands in the middle of a ring formed by the other children joining hands round her. They sing—
One child stands in the center of a circle created by the other kids holding hands around her. They sing—
Here comes a poor woman from Babylon,With three small children all alone:One can brew, and one can bake,The other can make a nice round cake.One can sit in the garden and spin,Another can create a fine bed for the king.Choose one and leave the others,And take the one you love the most.
The child in the middle having chosen one in the ring of the opposite sex, the rest say,—
The child in the middle, having chosen someone from the opposite gender in the circle, the others say,—
Now that you're married, we wish you happiness;You must respect your father and mother;Love each other like siblings,And now, everyone, share a kiss!
They then kiss, and the process is repeated till all the children are in the ring. Another game, played in the same way, begins with this verse:
They then kiss, and the process is repeated until all the kids are in the circle. Another game, played in the same way, starts with this verse:
Sally, Sally Waters, why are you feeling down?You're going to have a husband, whether he's great or not:So get up, Sally Waters, and prepare your plan,Because you're exactly the type to find a good man.
The partner being chosen, the two kneel down, and the rest sing,—
The chosen partner kneels down, and the others sing,—
Now that you're married, we wish you happiness,From your father, mother, and little boy!Love each other like sister and brother,And now, everyone, kiss each other.
QUEEN ANNE.
Queen Anne, Queen Anne, sitting on your throne,As lovely as a lily, as pure as a swan;The king has sent you three letters,And asks that you'll read one.
This is said by all the children but one, who represents the Queen, they having previously hid a ball upon one of their number. The Queen answers,
This is said by all the children except one, who represents the Queen, as they previously hid a ball on one of their own. The Queen replies,
I can't read one unless I read them all,So please, ——, pass the ball.
Naming any child she pleases. If she guesses rightly the child who has the ball takes her place as Queen. If wrongly, the child who has the ball says,
Naming any child she wants. If she guesses correctly, the child with the ball takes her spot as Queen. If she guesses wrong, the child with the ball says,
The ball is mine, not yours,So you, proud Queen, can sit on your throne,While we, your messengers, come and go.
Or, sometimes, these lines,—
Or sometimes, these lines—
The ball is mine, not yours,You are the beautiful lady to sit on:And we're the roaming gypsies coming and going.
COUNTING-OUT RHYMES.
The operation of counting-out is a very important mystery in many puerile games. The boys or girls stand in a row, and the operator begins with the counting-out rhyme, appropriating a word to each, till he comes to the person who receives the last word, and who is accordingly "out." This operation is continued till there is only one left, who is the individual chosen for the hero of the game, whatever it may be. The following verses are selected from a host of rhymes employed for this purpose:
The process of counting out is a crucial part of many childish games. The kids stand in a line, and the person in charge starts with a counting rhyme, assigning a word to each of them until they reach the last person, who is then "out." This continues until only one person remains, who becomes the chosen one for the game, whatever that may be. Here are some verses taken from a variety of rhymes used for this purpose:
One-ery, two-ery,Tick-ery, tee-vy;Hollow-bone, crack-a-bone,Pen and eevy.Ink, pink,Pen and ink;A study, a stive,A stove, and a sink!One-ery, two-ery,Tickery, teven;Alabo, crackabo,Ten and eleven:Spin, spon,Must be gone;Alabo, crackabo,Twenty-one!O-U-T spells out.[Something similar to this is found in Swedish, Arwidsson, iii. 492:
[Something similar to this is found in Swedish, Arwidsson, iii. 492:
Apala, mesala,Mesinka, meso,Sebedei, sebedo!Extra, lara,Kajsa, Sara!Heck, veck,Vällingsäck,Gack du din långe man veck,Ut!]Igdum, digdum, didum, dest,Cot-lo, we-lo, wi-lo, west;Cot pan, must be done,Twiddledum, twaddledum, twenty-one!Hytum, skytum,Perridi styxum,Perriwerri wyxum,A bomun D.
IV.—ALPHABET RHYMES.
Amongst the various devices to establish a royal road to infantine learning, none are more ancient or useful than the rhymes which serve to impress the letters of the alphabet upon the attention and memory of children. As early as the fifteenth century, "Mayster Benet," who was rector of Sandon, in Essex, in 1440, and afterwards a prebend of St. Paul's, composed or translated an alphabet-rhyme, which not only professed to recall the memory of the letters, but at a time when the benefit of clergy was in vogue, held out the inducement of providing means for avoiding the punishment of death. The following copy is taken from two versions in MS. Harl. 541, compared with each other:
Among the various ways to create a straightforward path to early learning, none are more timeless or helpful than the rhymes that help kids remember the letters of the alphabet. As early as the fifteenth century, "Master Benet," who was the rector of Sandon in Essex in 1440 and later became a prebend of St. Paul's, created or translated an alphabet rhyme that not only helped recall the letters but also offered a way to avoid the death penalty during a time when the benefit of clergy was common. The following version is taken from two manuscripts in MS. Harl. 541, which have been compared with each other:
"Who so wyll be wyse and worshyp to wynne, leern he on lettur and loke upon another of the A. B. C. of Arystotle. Noon argument agaynst that, ffor it is counselle for clerkes and knightes a thowsand; and also it myght amend a meane man fulle oft the lernyng of a lettur, and his lyf save. It shal not greve a good man, though gylt be amend. Rede on this ragment, and rule the theraftur, and whoso be grevid yn his goost governe the bettur. Herkyn and here every man and child how that I begynne:
"Whoever wants to be wise and respected should learn from the basic teachings of Aristotle. There’s no argument against this because it provides guidance for scholars and knights alike; it can also often improve the life of an ordinary person through education and save them. It will not trouble a good person if their guilt is corrected. Read this excerpt, and follow the guidelines; and anyone who feels troubled in spirit will manage better. Listen and hear, every man and child, how I begin:"
A. to Amorous, to Adventurous, and not too angry.B. to Bold, to Busy, and not too rude.C. to Courteous, to Cruel, and not too caring.D. to Dull, to Dreadful, and don’t drink too often.E. to Elusive, to Excellent, and not too serious either.F. to Fierce, nor too Familiar, but Friendly in nature.G. to Glad, to Glorious, and jealousy you hate.H. to Hasty, to Hardy, and not too heavy in your heart.J. to Jesting, to Jangling, and don’t joke too often.K. to Keeping, to Kind, and watch out for deceitful people.L. to Loathsome, to Loving, and generous with goods.M. to Meddlesome, to Merry, but as manners require.N. to Noisy, to Foolish, or too fond of novelty.O. to Oppressing, to Obstinate, and others you hate.P. to Praising, to Private, with princes and dukes.Q. to Quaint, to Querulous, to Questioning excessively.R. to Riotous, to Reveling, and don’t rage too much.S. to Strange, nor too Stirring, and don’t stare too widely.T. to Tactless, to Talkative, for Temperance is best.V. to Venomous, to Vengeful, and don’t waste too much.W. to Wild, to Wrathful, and don’t wade too deeply.A moderate middle ground is best for us all."
A. APPLE-PIE.
Eachard, a learned clergyman of the Church of England, published a work in 1671, [36] in which he condescends to illustrate his argument by a reference to this celebrated history. Talking of the various modes of preaching adopted by different sects, he proceeds in this manner: "And whereas it has been observed that some of our clergie are sometimes over nice in taking notice of the meer words that they find in texts, so these are so accurate as to go to the very letters. As suppose, sir, you are to give an exhortation to repentance upon that of St. Matthew, 'Repent ye, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand:' you must observe that Repent is a rich word, wherein every letter exhorts us to our duty,—Repent, R. readily, E. earnestly, P. presently, E. effectually, N. nationally, T. thoroughly. Again, Repent Roaringly, Eagerly, Plentifully, Heavily (because of h), Notably, Terribly. And why not, Repent Rarely, Evenly, Prettily, Elegantly, Neatly, Tightly? And also, why not, A apple-pasty, B bak'd it, C cut it, D divided it, E eat it, F fought for it, G got it, &c. I had not time, sir, to look any further into their way of preaching; but if I had, I am sure I should have found that they have no reason to despise our church upon that account." The worthy divine would have censured the sermon on Malt attributed to the elder Dodd.
Eachard, a learned clergyman of the Church of England, published a work in 1671, [36] in which he condescends to illustrate his argument by referencing this famous history. Discussing the different preaching styles used by various sects, he says: "And while it has been noted that some of our clergy can be overly picky about the exact words they find in texts, there are those who are so precise that they focus on the very letters. For example, if you were to give a call to repentance based on St. Matthew's 'Repent ye, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand:' you must note that Repent is a rich word, where each letter urges us to fulfill our duty—Repent, R. readily, E. earnestly, P. presently, E. effectually, N. nationally, T. thoroughly. Also, Repent Roaringly, Eagerly, Plentifully, Heavily (because of h), Notably, Terribly. And why not, Repent Rarely, Evenly, Prettily, Elegantly, Neatly, Tightly? And also, why not, A apple-pasty, B bak'd it, C cut it, D divided it, E eat it, F fought for it, G got it, &c. I didn't have time, sir, to delve any deeper into their preaching style; but if I had, I'm sure I would have found that they have no reason to look down on our church for that." The esteemed divine would have criticized the sermon on Malt attributed to the elder Dodd.
| [36] | Observations, &c., 8vo. Lond. 1671, p. 160. |
We thus find this nursery romance descending in all its purity for nearly two centuries. It may be even older than the time of Charles II., for it does not appear as a novelty in the quotation we have just given. Be this as it may, the oldest edition I know of was printed some half-century since by Marshall, in Aldermary Churchyard, entitled "The Tragical Death of A. Apple-pye, who was cut in pieces and eat by twenty-five gentlemen, with whom all little people ought to be very well acquainted," which runs as follows:
We find this nursery rhyme has been passed down in all its purity for nearly two centuries. It might even be older than the time of Charles II, since it wasn’t mentioned as something new in the quotation we just provided. Regardless, the oldest edition I know of was printed about fifty years ago by Marshall in Aldermary Churchyard, titled "The Tragical Death of A. Apple-pye, who was cut into pieces and eaten by twenty-five gentlemen, with whom all little people should be very familiar," which goes like this:
A. apple pie, B. bit it,C. cut it, D. dealt it,E. eat it, F. fought over it,G. got it, H. had it, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__J. joined for it, K. kept it,L. longed for it, M. mourned for it,N. nodded at it, O. opened it,P. peeked in it, Q. quartered it,R. ran for it, S. stole it,T. took it, V. viewed it, W. wanted it;X. Y. Z. and Ampersand,They all wished for a piece in hand.Finally, they all agreedTo share the apple pie as their feed;But since there seemed to be so many,Those who were last might have no any.Unless some method was taken,So everyone could save their bacon.They all agreed to stand in lineAround the apple pie's fine border.Take turns as they stand in order,From great A down to &,Divide the pie into equal parts,As you can see on the other side.
| [37] | Some copies say "H. halv'd it, I. ey'd it," and afterwards, "U. hew'd it,... X. crossed it, Y. yearn'd for it, and Z. put it in his pocket, and said, Well done!" |
Then follows a woodcut of the pie, surrounded by a square of the letters, though it is not very easy to perceive how the conditions of the problem are to be fulfilled. The remainder of the book, a small 32mo., is occupied with "A Curious Discourse that passed between the twenty-five letters at dinner-time,"—
Then comes a woodcut of the pie, surrounded by a square of letters, although it's not very clear how the conditions of the problem can be met. The rest of the book, a small 32mo., is filled with "A Curious Discourse that took place between the twenty-five letters during dinner."
A said, "Give me a big slice."B replied, "Just a little, but nice."C requested, "Cut me a piece of crust."D responded, "Take it, it's as dry as dust."E said, "I'll eat quickly now, who will?"F declared, "I swear I'll eat my fill."G asked, "Give it to me good and great."H complained, "I hate just a little bit."I said, "I love the juice the most,"And K agreed with the same boast.L stated, "There's nothing I love more,"M added, "It makes your teeth move for sure."N noticed what the others said;O observed the others' plates with dread.P praised the cook to the skies.Q argued because he had a bad knife.R worried, "It’s running short, I’m afraid."S sat in silence and didn't say a word.T thought that talking might waste time;U knew it was a crime to talk at meals.W wished there had been a quince in it;X remarked, "You can't convince those cooks."Y stated, "I'll eat, let others wish."Z sat as silent as a fish,While Ampersand licked the dish.
The manner in which a practical moral good was to be inferred from this doggerel is not very apparent, but Mr. Marshall had a way of his own in settling the difficulty. The finale must not be omitted: "Having concluded their discourse and dinner together, I have nothing more to add, but that, if my little readers are pleased with what they have found in this book, they have nothing to do but to run to Mr. Marshall's at No. 4, in Aldermary Churchyard, where they may have several books, not less entertaining than this, of the same size and price. But that you may not think I leave you too abruptly, I here present you with the picture of the old woman who made the apple-pye you have been reading about. She has several more in her basket, and she promises, if you are good children, you shall never go supperless to bed while she has one left. But as good people always ask a blessing of God before meals, therefore, as a token that you are good, and deserve a pye, you must learn the two following graces, the one to be said before the meals, the other after; and the Lord's Prayer every night and morning." Two graces and the Lord's Prayer conclude the tract.
The way to figure out a practical moral lesson from this poem isn't very clear, but Mr. Marshall had his own method for addressing the problem. We can't skip the ending: "After finishing their conversation and dinner together, I have nothing more to add, except that if my young readers enjoy what they've found in this book, they should head over to Mr. Marshall's at No. 4, Aldermary Churchyard, where they can find several other books just as entertaining as this one, at the same size and price. But so you don’t think I’m leaving you too suddenly, I’m sharing the picture of the old woman who made the apple pie you’ve been reading about. She has several more in her basket and promises that if you’re good children, you’ll never go to bed without supper while she has one left. But since good people always ask for a blessing from God before meals, as a way to show that you’re good and deserve a pie, you need to learn the two following graces: one to say before meals, the other after; and the Lord's Prayer every night and morning." Two graces and the Lord's Prayer finish the tract.
The following alphabet or literal rhyme refers to Carr, Earl of Somerset, the favorite of James I:
The following alphabet or literal rhyme refers to Carr, the Earl of Somerset, who was the favorite of James I:
J. C. U. R.Good Monsieur CarAbout to fall;U. R. A. K.As most men say,Yet that's not everything.U. O. K. P.With a nullity,That shameless pack!S. X. his wife,Whose shameless lifeHas broken your back.MS. Sloane 1489, f. 9, vo.A. B. C.D. E. F. G.H. I. J. K., if you look you'll see;L. M. N. O. P. Q.R. S. T. U. V. W.X. Y. Z.Heigh ho! my heart is heavy,My mind is fixed on one;It's W because I know who,And T for my love, Tom!
V.—RIDDLE-RHYMES.
A very favorite class of rhymes with children, though the solutions are often most difficult to guess. Nursery riddle-rhymes are extremely numerous, and a volume might be filled with them without much difficulty. Many of the most common ones are found in manuscript collections of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
A very popular type of rhymes with kids, although the answers can often be quite hard to figure out. Nursery riddle-rhymes are really abundant, and you could easily fill a book with them. Many of the most familiar ones are found in manuscript collections from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
I get in everyone's way,But I don't stop anyone;My four horns every dayPlay in every way,And my head is nailed on at the top!
—A turnstile.
—A ticket gate.
There was a king who met another kingOn a straight path;The first king said to the second king,Where have you been?I've been in the woods,Hunting a doe:Please lend me your dog,So I can do the same.Call him, call him!What should I call him?Call him like you and I,We've both done that.
—The dog's name was Been, and the name of the persons who met each other was King. This riddle was obtained recently from oral tradition. I observe, however, a version of it in MS. Harl. 1962, of the seventeenth century.
—The dog's name was Been, and the names of the people who met each other were King. This riddle was recently collected from oral tradition. However, I notice a version of it in MS. Harl. 1962, from the seventeenth century.
The cuckoo and the gowk,The laverock and the lark,The twire-snipe, the weather-bleak;How many birds is that?
—Three, for the second name in each line is a synonyme. The cuckoo is called a gowk in the North of England; the lark, a laverock; and the twire-snipe and weather-bleak, or weather-bleater, are the same birds.
—Three, because the second name in each line is a synonym. The cuckoo is called a gowk in Northern England; the lark is a laverock; and the twire-snipe and weather-bleak, or weather-bleater, refer to the same birds.
Hey there,With a round black body!Three feet and a wooden hat;What is that?
—An iron pot. In the country, an iron pot with three legs, and a wooden cover, the latter raised or put on by means of a peg at the top, is used for suspending over a fire, or to place on the hearth with a wood fire.
—An iron pot. In the countryside, an iron pot with three legs and a wooden lid, which can be lifted or placed on using a peg at the top, is used for hanging over a fire or setting on the hearth with a wood fire.
Riddle me this, riddle me thatWhat's above the head and below the hat?
—Hair. From Kent.
—Hair. From Kent.
The fiddler and his wife,The piper and his mother,Ate three half-cakes, three whole cakes,And three quarters of another.How much did each person get?
—The fiddler's wife was the piper's mother. Each one therefore got ½ + 1 + ¼ or 1-¾.
—The fiddler's wife was the piper's mom. Each one therefore got ½ + 1 + ¼ or 1-¾.
There was a small green house,And inside the small green houseThere was a small brown house,And inside the small brown houseThere was a small yellow house,And inside the small yellow houseThere was a small white house,And inside the small white houseThere was a small heart.
—A walnut.
—A walnut.
A group of white sheepOn a red hill;Here they come, there they go,Now they stop still!
—The teeth and gums.
—Teeth and gums.
Old Father Greybeard,Without teeth or tongue,If you give me your finger,I'll give you my thumb.
—Greybeard, says Moor, Suffolk Words, p. 155, was the appropriate name for a fine large handsome stone bottle, holding perhaps three or four, or more gallons, having its handle terminating in a venerable Druidic face. This riddle appears to be alluded to in MS. Harl. 7316, p. 61:
—Greybeard, says Moor, Suffolk Words, p. 155, was the fitting name for a large, attractive stone bottle, likely holding three or four, or even more gallons, with its handle ending in an ancient Druidic face. This puzzle seems to be referenced in MS. Harl. 7316, p. 61:
I’m a dull and thoughtless fool, it's true, when I’m young,And like old grandpa Greybeard, with no teeth or tongue,But with the helpful guidance of skills,I sometimes reach a level of politeness:What God never sees,What the king rarely sees;What we see every day:Solve my riddle, I ask.
—An equal. This riddle is well known in Sweden. The following version was given me by Mr. Stephens:
—An equal. This riddle is well known in Sweden. The following version was shared with me by Mr. Stephens:
I see it every day;The king sees it rarely;God never sees it."I see it daily;The king sees it seldom;God sees it never."As white as milk,And not milk;As green as grass,And not grass;As red as blood,And not blood;As black as soot,And not soot!
—A bramble-blossom.
—A thorny flower.
The land was white,The seed was black;It'll take a clever scholarTo figure that out.
—Paper and writing.
—Paper and pen.
As tall as a castle,As fragile as a wastle;And all the king's horsesCan't bring it down.
—Smoke. A wastle is a North country term for a twig or withy, possibly connected with A. S. wædl.
—Smoke. A wastle is a northern term for a twig or a flexible branch, possibly related to Old Saxon wædl.
I've seen you where you never were,And where you will never be;And yet in that very same spotYou can still be seen by me.
—The reflection of a face in a looking-glass.
—The reflection of a face in a mirror.
Streams are full, hills are full,Even if you collect all day,You won't fill your hands.
—The mist. From Northumberland. Sometimes thus:
—The fog. From Northumberland. Sometimes like this:
A hill full, a hole full,You can't catch a bowl full.
A young man and a young woman quarrelled, and the former, in his anger, exclaimed,—
A young man and a young woman argued, and the young man, in his anger, shouted,—
Three words I know are true,And they all start with W.
The young woman immediately guessed the enigma, and replied in a similar strain,—
The young woman quickly figured out the riddle and responded in a similar tone,—
I also know them,And there are three that start with M.
—Woman wants wit. Man much more.
—Women want wit. Men want it even more.
The calf, the goose, the bee,These three rule the world, you see.
—Parchment, pens, and wax.
—Papers, pens, and seal wax.
A house full, a yard full,And you can't catch a bowl full.
—Smoke.
—Vape.
While I was crossing London Bridge,I heard something break;No one in all of EnglandCan fix that!
—Ice.
—Ice.
I had a little sister,They called her Pretty Peep;She splashes in the water,Deep, deep, deep!She climbs the mountains,High, high, high;My poor little sister,She has only one eye.
—A star. This charming little riddle is always a great favorite with children.
—A star. This cute little riddle is always a big favorite with kids.
As I was walking over that mossy field,I came across a man on a gray horse;He was crying and upset,I asked him what was wrong;He said he was on his way to his father's funeral,Who had died seven years before he was born!
—His father was a dyer.
—His father was a textile dyer.
As I looked out of my bedroom window,I heard something fall;I sent my maid to pick it up.But she couldn't collect it all.
—Snuff. From Yorkshire.
—Snuff. From Yorkshire.
Black on the inside and red on the outside,With four corners all around.
—A chimney. From Yorkshire.
—A chimney. From Yorkshire.
While I was crossing London Bridge,I came across a group of guinea pigs;They were marked and they were spotted,And all of them had yellow backs.
—A swarm of bees; not a very likely family to meet in that neighbourhood, at least nowadays, but some of the authors of these poems seem to have been continually traversing London bridge.
—A swarm of bees; not a very common sight in that neighborhood, at least these days, but some of the poets of these poems appear to have been constantly crossing London Bridge.
Higher than a house, taller than a tree;Oh! what could that possibly be?
—A star. From Yorkshire.
—A star from Yorkshire.
What weighs more—A stone of leadOr a stone of feathers?
—They both weigh alike.
—They both weigh the same.
Lilly, oh Lilly, look out on the end,Watch the little baby go out to the town's end.
—A candle. Lillylow is a North country term for the flame of a candle. Low, A.-S. lig, is universal.
—A candle. Lillylow is a term from the North country for the flame of a candle. Low, A.-S. lig, is universal.
At the back of my yard, there’s a vat,With twenty-four ladies dancing in that:Some in green dresses, and some wearing blue hats:It takes a smart person to explain that.
—A field of flax.
—A flax field.
Jackatawad sprinted across the moor,Never lagging behind, but always ahead!
—The ignis fatuus, or Will o' the Wisp. Jackatawad is a provincial term for this phenomenon.
—The ignis fatuus, or Will o' the Wisp. Jackatawad is a local term for this phenomenon.
Black 'em, sauté 'em, rough 'em, glare 'em, saw,Click 'em, gatt 'em, fling 'em into grinning awe.
—Eating a sloe. A North country riddle, given by Brockett. Girnigaw is the cavity of the mouth.
—Eating a sloe. A riddle from the North, provided by Brockett. Girnigaw is the space in the mouth.
A man rode through our town,His name was Gray Grizzle;His saddle was decorated with gold;I've mentioned his name three times.
—Gaffer Was. From Yorkshire.
—Gaffer was from Yorkshire.
There was a man who crossed the Wash,His horse was a grizzled grey;His saddle-bow was bent;I’ve told you his name three times,And still you don’t know!
—The same as the last. From Norfolk.
—The same as the last one. From Norfolk.
I have become flesh and blood,Like other creatures;But there's neither flesh nor bloodThat remains in me.I create kings and make them fight,I make them come together;And still there's neither flesh nor bloodThat remains in me.
—A pen. Riddles similar to this are current in most languages. Mr. Stephens has kindly furnished me with the following one obtained in Sweden:
—A pen. Riddles like this exist in many languages. Mr. Stephens has kindly shared the following one he found in Sweden:
From flesh and blood I am born,But no blood is found within me;Many lords carry me proudly,With sharp knives, they cut me easily.Many I've honored greatly,Many I've brought low,Many I've laid to rest below.Of flesh and blood I am always born;But blood in me you'll never find.Many great lords carry me with pride,With sharp knives, they cut me loud.Many I've honored with respect:Many wealthy I've brought down;Many I've laid in the ground!
The pen has been a fertile subject for the modern riddle-writer. The best production of the kind was printed a few months ago in the Times newspaper, contributed by Miss Agnes Strickland.
The pen has been a popular topic for today's riddle creators. The best one was published a few months ago in the Times newspaper, contributed by Miss Agnes Strickland.
Neighbor John came into my house,With three legs and one that's wooden;If you take one away from that,Then five will still be left.
—He had a IV legged stool with him, and taking away the left-hand numeral, there remains V.
—He had a four-legged stool with him, and if you take away the left-hand numeral, you have five.
Link lank, on a bank,Ten to four.
—A milkmaid.
—A dairy farmer.
Two legs sat on three legs,With four legs standing nearby;Four were then pulled by ten:You can't solve my riddle,No matter how hard you try.
—An amplification of the above, the milkmaid of course sitting on a three-legged stool.
—An amplification of the above, the milkmaid is, of course, sitting on a three-legged stool.
Above the water,And below the water,And always keeping its head down!
—A nail in the bottom of a ship.
—A nail at the bottom of a ship.
As straight as a maypole,As small as a pin,As crooked as a bucker,And as circular as a ring.
I do not know the solution of this riddle. A bucker is a bent piece of wood by which slaughtered sheep are hung up by their expanded hind legs, before being cut out.
I don't know the answer to this riddle. A bucker is a bent piece of wood used to hang up slaughtered sheep by their stretched hind legs before they are butchered.
Hitty Pitty inside the wall,Hitty Pitty outside the wall:If you touch Hitty Pitty,Hitty Pitty will bite you.
—A nettle. MS. Harl. 1962, xvii. cent.
—A nettle. MS. Harl. 1962, xvii. cent.
The first letter of our ancestor,A wax worker,An I and an N;The color of a donkey:So what do you have?
—Abindon, or Abingdon, in Berks. An ancient rebus given in Lelandi Itin. ed. 1744, ii. 136.
—Abindon, or Abingdon, in Berks. An ancient puzzle presented in Lelandi Itin. ed. 1744, ii. 136.
I witnessed a fight the other day;A woman started the altercation.She met up with her usual friend,Then stood in the middle of the street;She landed such hard and forceful punches,He bled ten gallons from his nose;Yet neither seemed to faint or collapse,Nor did he retaliate at all.
—A pump. MS. Harl. 1962, xvij. cent.
—A pump. MS. Harl. 1962, xvij. cent.
There’s a body of water I need to cross,A wider body of water has never existed;And yet, of all the waters I’ve ever seen,This one can be crossed with the least risk.
—The dew. From the same MS.
—The dew. From the same MS.
There's a well-known bird,Helpful in cities and towns;No one can do the work he does;He's yellow, black, red, and green,A very beautiful bird, I mean;Yet he's both fierce and deadly:I consider anyone wise who can figure this out.
—A bee. From the same MS.
—A bee. From the same MS.
As I crossed Hottery Tottery,I looked into Harbora Lilly;I spotted a cutterellPlaying with her cambril.I called out, Hey, neighbor, hey!Lend me your cue and your go,To shoot at that cutterellPlaying with her cambril,And you'll get the curl of her love.
—A man calling to his neighbour for a gun to shoot a deer, and he should have her humbles. MS. ibid.
—A man asking his neighbor for a gun to hunt a deer, and he should have her humbled. MS. ibid.
As I walked through my houter touter,Houter touter, indeed;I saw Mr. HigamgigeComing over the hill of Parley.But if I had my carly verly,Carly verly indeed;I would have met Mr. HigamgigeComing over the hill of Parley.
—A man going over a hill, and a fly lighting on his head. MS. ibid.
—A man walking over a hill, and a fly landing on his head. MS. ibid.
THE FOUR SISTERS.
I have four sisters across the sea,Para-mara, dictum, domine.And they sent me four gifts,Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,Para-mara, dictum, domine!The first was a bird without a single bone;Para-mara, dictum, &c.The second was a cherry with no stone at all;Partum, quartum, &c.The third was a blanket without any thread,Para-mara, dictum, &c.The fourth was a book that no one could read,Partum, quartum, &c.How can there be a bird without a single bone?Para-mara, dictum, &c.How can there be a cherry without a stone?Partum, quartum, &c.How can there be a blanket without any thread?Para-mara, dictum, &c.How can there be a book that no one can read?Partum, quartum, &c.When the bird's in the egg, there is no bone;Para-mara, dictum, &c.When the cherry's in the bud, there is no stone;Partum, quartum, &c.When the blanket's in the fleece, there is no thread;Para-mara, dictum, &c.When the book's in the press, no one can read;Partum, quartum, &c.
Several versions of this metrical riddle are common in the North of England, and an ingenious antiquary has suggested that it is a parody on the old monkish songs! It will remind the reader of the Scottish ballad of Captain Wedderburn's Courtship,
Several versions of this metrical riddle are common in Northern England, and a clever historian has proposed that it is a parody of the old monk songs! It will remind readers of the Scottish ballad of Captain Wedderburn's Courtship,
Oh, please stay away from me, kind sir,I ask you to let me be;For I won’t go to your bed,Until you prepare me three dishes:You must prepare three dishes for me,And I need them all,Before I lie in your bed,Whether at home or elsewhere.Oh, I must have for my supperA cherry without a pit;And I must have for my supperA chicken without a bone:And I must have for my supperA bird without a cage,Before I lie in your bed,Whether at home or elsewhere.When the cherry is in bloom,I’m sure it has no pit;And when the chicken is in its shell,I’m sure it has no bone:The dove is a gentle bird,It flies without a cage,And we shall both lie in one bed,And you’ll lie next to the wall.
The belief that a pigeon or dove has no gall forms the subject of a chapter in Browne's Vulgar and Common Errors, iii. 3. The gall-bladder does not exist in the dove.
The idea that a pigeon or dove doesn't have a gall bladder is discussed in a chapter of Browne's Vulgar and Common Errors, iii. 3. The gall-bladder is absent in the dove.
THE DEMANDS JOYOUS.
It is not generally known that many of our popular riddles are centuries old. Yet such is the fact, and those whose course of reading has made them acquainted with ancient collections are not unfrequently startled by observing a quibble of the fifteenth or sixteenth century go the round of modern newspapers as a new invention, or perhaps as an importation from America! A few months ago, an instance of this species of resuscitation took place in the publication of the question, "Which were made first, elbows or knees?" This was an enigma current in England in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and is found in a manuscript in the British Museum written before the close of the sixteenth century.
It’s not widely known that many of our popular riddles are centuries old. But that’s the truth, and those who have read ancient collections often find themselves surprised to see a pun from the fifteenth or sixteenth century appear in modern newspapers as if it were a new idea or maybe even a recent import from America! A few months ago, an example of this revival occurred with the question, “Which was made first, elbows or knees?” This riddle was popular in England during Queen Elizabeth's reign and can be found in a manuscript at the British Museum written before the end of the sixteenth century.
The earliest collection of riddles printed in this country came from the press of Wynkyn de Worde in the year 1511, in black letter, under the title of the "Demaundes Joyous." Only one copy of this tract, which was "imprynted at London, in Flete Strete, at the sygne of the Sonne," is known to exist, and it is now preserved in the public library at Cambridge. It is chiefly a compilation from an early French tract under a similar title, but which is far more remarkable for its grossness. The reader may be amused with the following specimens, and perhaps recognise some of them as old favorites:
The earliest collection of riddles printed in this country was produced by Wynkyn de Worde in 1511, using black letter, and was titled "Demaundes Joyous." Only one copy of this work, which was "imprinted in London, on Fleet Street, at the sign of the Sun," is known to survive, and it is currently housed in the public library in Cambridge. It mainly consists of selections from an earlier French text with a similar title, which is notable for its coarseness. The reader might find the following examples entertaining and may even recognize some as old favorites:
"Demand. Who bore the best burden that ever was borne?—R. The ass on which our Lady rode when she fled with our Lord into Egypt. D. What became of that ass?—R. Adam's mother did eat her. D. Who is Adam's mother?—R. The earth.
"Demand. Who carried the heaviest load that has ever existed?—R. The donkey that Our Lady rode on when she fled with Our Lord to Egypt. D. What happened to that donkey?—R. Adam's mother ate her. D. Who is Adam's mother?—R. The earth."
Demand. What space is from the surface of the sea to its greatest depth?—R. A stone's cast.
Demand. What distance is there from the surface of the sea to its deepest point?—R. A stone's throw.
Demand. How many calves' tails behoveth to reach from the earth to the sky?—R. No more but one, an' it be long enough.
Demand. How many calves' tails are needed to reach from the ground to the sky?—R. Just one, if it's long enough.
Demand. Which is the most profitable beast, and that which men eat least of?—R. Bees.
Demand. What is the most profitable animal, and what do people eat the least of?—R. Bees.
Demand. Which is the broadest water, and the least jeopardy to pass over?—R. The dew.
Demand. Which is the widest body of water, and the least risky to cross?—R. The dew.
Demand. What thing is that which never was nor never will be?—R. A mouse making her nest in a cat's ear.
Demand. What is something that has never existed and never will?—R. A mouse building her nest in a cat's ear.
Demand. Why doth a dog turn himself thrice round before he layeth down?—R. Because he knoweth not the bed's head from its foot.
Demand. Why does a dog turn around three times before lying down?—R. Because he doesn't know the head of the bed from the foot.
Demand. Why do men make an oven in the town?—R. For because they cannot make the town in the oven.
Demand. Why do men create an oven in the town?—R. Because they cannot create the town in the oven.
Demand. How may a man know or perceive a cow in a flock of sheep?—R. By sight.
Demand. How can a person identify a cow in a group of sheep? — R. By looking.
Demand. What alms are worst bestowed that men give?—R. Alms to a blind man, for he would willingly see him hanged by the neck that gave it him.
Demand. What are the worst alms that people can give?—R. Alms to a blind man, because he would gladly watch the person who gave it to him get hanged by the neck.
Demand. What thing is that which hath no end?—R. A bowl.
Demand. What is something that has no end?—R. A bowl.
Demand. What people be they that never go a-procession?—R. Those that ring the bells in the mean time.
Demand. What kind of people are they that never participate in a procession? — R. Those who are ringing the bells in the meantime.
Demand. What is that that freezeth never?—R. Hot water.
Demand. What is something that never freezes?—R. Hot water.
Demand. What thing is that that is most likest unto a horse?—R. That is a mare.
Demand. What thing is most like a horse?—R. That is a mare.
Demand. What thing is that which is more frightful the smaller it is?—R. A bridge.
Demand. What is something that becomes more terrifying the smaller it is? — R. A bridge.
Demand. Why doth an ox lie down?—R. Because he cannot sit.
Demand. Why does an ox lie down?—R. Because he can't sit.
Demand. How many straws go to a goose's nest?—R. None, for lack of feet.
Demand. How many straws are in a goose's nest?—R. None, because it doesn't have feet.
Demand. Who slew the fourth part of the world?—R. Cain, when he killed his brother Abel.
Demand. Who killed a quarter of the world?—R. Cain, when he killed his brother Abel.
Demand. What man is he that getteth his living backwards?—R. A ropemaker.
Demand. What kind of person makes a living in reverse? — R. A ropemaker.
The reader will please to recollect the antiquity of these, and their curiosity, before he condemns their triviality. Let the worst be said of them, they are certainly as good as some of Shakespeare's jokes, which no doubt elicited peals of laughter from an Elizabethan audience. This may be said to be only a negative kind of recommendation, and, indeed, when we reflect on the apparent poverty of verbal humour in those days, the wonder is that it could have been so well relished. The fact must be that we often do not understand the greater part of the meaning intended to be conveyed.
The reader should remember the age of these works and their uniqueness before judging them as trivial. No matter what criticisms may arise, they are certainly on par with some of Shakespeare's jokes, which surely got big laughs from an Elizabethan audience. This might seem like a minimal endorsement, and when we think about the lack of sophisticated verbal humor back then, it’s surprising that it was enjoyed so much. The truth is that we often don’t grasp most of the meaning they were trying to express.
To revert to the lengthened transmission of jokes, I may mention my discovery of the following in MS. Addit. 5008, in the British Museum, a journal of the time of Queen Elizabeth. The anecdote, by some means, went the round of the provincial press in 1843, as of modern composition. "On a very rainy day, a man, entering his house, was accosted by his wife in the following manner: 'Now, my dear, while you are wet, go and fetch me a bucket of water.' He obeyed, brought the water and threw it all over her, saying at the same time, 'Now, my dear, while you are wet, go and fetch another!'"
To go back to the extended sharing of jokes, I should mention my discovery of the following in MS. Addit. 5008, in the British Museum, a journal from the time of Queen Elizabeth. The story somehow made its way through the provincial press in 1843, presented as a modern creation. "On a very rainy day, a man came home and was greeted by his wife who said: 'Now, my dear, since you're wet, go get me a bucket of water.' He complied, brought the water, and splashed it all over her, saying at the same time, 'Now, my dear, since you're wet, go fetch another!'"
VI.—NATURE-SONGS.
- THE RAINBOW.
- WEATHER-RHYMES.
- SNOW.
- THE WIND.
- THE MOON.
- THE CUCKOO.
- THE ROBIN AND THE WREN.
- THE OWL.
- MAGPIES.
- WHO KILL'D COCK ROBIN.
- CROWS.
- PIGEONS.
- LAPWING AND RINGDOVE.
- THE WOOD-PIGEON.
- DOMESTIC POULTRY.
- DRAGON-FLIES.
- THE SNAIL.
- APPLES.
- THE WALNUT-TREE.
- THE ASH.
- PEAS.
- PIMPERNELL.
- MARUM.
- BIRD-SHOOER'S SONG.
- THE GNAT.
- THE TROUT.
- TOBACCO.
- JACK-A-DANDY.
Rhymes upon natural objects and rural sayings are perhaps more generally interesting than any other relics of the popular anthology. They not unfrequently contain scientific truths, and have been considered worthy of examination by the philosopher; while the unlearned are often contented to use them as substitutes for the barometer or Nautical Almanac. We all recollect the story of Dr. Johnson, and the boy who prophesied a shower when not a speck was to be seen in the sky. The doctor, drenched with rain, hastened back to the lad, and offered him a shilling if he would divulge the data of his prediction. "Why, you zee, zur, when that black ram holds its tail up, it be sure to rain!" The story loses none of its force when we find it in the Hundred Merry Tales, printed nearly two centuries before Dr. Johnson was born.
Rhymes about natural objects and country sayings are probably more interesting than any other remnants of the popular anthology. They often contain scientific truths and are considered worth examining by philosophers; meanwhile, those who aren't educated are often happy to use them as stand-ins for the barometer or Nautical Almanac. We all remember the story of Dr. Johnson and the boy who predicted rain when not a single cloud was in the sky. The doctor, soaked from the downpour, rushed back to the boy and offered him a shilling if he would reveal how he made his prediction. "Well, you see, sir, when that black ram holds its tail up, it’s sure to rain!" The story is just as impactful when we find it in the Hundred Merry Tales, printed nearly two centuries before Dr. Johnson was born.
THE RAINBOW.
Rainbow in the morningA warning for sailors;Rainbow at nightA delight for sailors.
This, in one form or other, is a most common weather proverb. The present version was heard in Essex.
This, in one form or another, is a very common weather saying. The current version was heard in Essex.
If there's a rainbow in the evening,It will rain and clear;But if there's a rainbow in the morning,It won't give or take.
WEATHER-RHYMES.
The evening is red, and the morning is gray,These are signs of a beautiful day.Winter's thunderIs a wonder of the world.
From Lancashire.
From Lancashire.
As the days get longer,The storms get stronger;As the days extend,So do the storms intensify.No weather is bad,If the wind is calm.When clouds look like rocks and towers,The earth is refreshed by frequent showers.
This proverb is sufficiently homely, yet the first line reminds us of the description of the clouds in Anthony and Cleopatra, act iv. sc. 12; but the commonest observer must have seen the "tower'd citadel," and the "pendant rock."
This saying is pretty simple, but the first line brings to mind the way clouds are described in Anthony and Cleopatra, act iv. sc. 12; and anyone can notice the "tower'd citadel" and the "pendant rock."
A northern windBrings drought from afar.
A har is a mist or thick fog.
A har is a mist or a thick fog.
First is David, then comes Chad,Then there's Whinwall, acting like he's crazy.
Alluding to the storms about the day of St. Winwaloe, March 3d, called St. Whinwall by the country people.
Alluding to the storms around the day of St. Winwaloe, March 3rd, referred to as St. Whinwall by the locals.
Rain, rain, head to Spain;Come back another day:When I'm brewing and when I'm baking,I'll make you a figgy cake.
This appears to be a child's address to rain, a kind of charm or entreaty for its disappearance. A plum-cake is always called a figgy cake in Devonshire, where raisins are denominated figs, and hence the term. Other versions are given by Chambers, p. 155, who remarks that it was the practice among the children of Greece, when the sun happened to be obscured by a cloud, to exclaim, Ἔξεχ' ὦ φίλ' ἥλιε—Come forth, beloved sun! Howell, in his Proverbs, 1659, p. 20, has,—
This seems to be a child's call to the rain, like a spell or plea for it to go away. In Devonshire, a plum cake is always referred to as a figgy cake because raisins are called figs, which is where the name comes from. Other versions are shared by Chambers, p. 155, who notes that it was common among children in Greece to shout when the sun was hidden by a cloud, saying, Ἔξεχ' ὦ φίλ' ἥλιε—Come out, dear sun! Howell, in his Proverbs, 1659, p. 20, has,—
Rain, rain, head to Spain;Nice weather, come back again.
"Little children have a custome, when it raines, to sing or charme away the raine; they all joine in a chorus, and sing thus, viz.:
"Little kids have a tradition where, when it rains, they sing or charm the rain away; they all join together in a chorus and sing like this:
Rain, rain, go away,Come back on Saturday.
I have a conceit that this childish custome is of great antiquity, and that it is derived from the gentiles." (Aubrey, MS. Lansd. 231.)
I believe this childish custom is very old and comes from the pagan people. (Aubrey, MS. Lansd. 231.)
If Candlemas Day is clear and bright,Winter will take another round.
It is generally the case that fine weather continues if it is mild at Candlemas. A somewhat similar proverb is given by M. Kuhn, Gebräuche und Aberglauben, ii. 12.
It’s usually true that nice weather sticks around if it’s mild on Candlemas. A similar saying is mentioned by M. Kuhn, Gebräuche und Aberglauben, ii. 12.
It's time to gather your hay and corn,When the old donkey sounds his horn.
The braying of the ass is said to be an indication of rain or hail.
The braying of the donkey is believed to signal rain or hail.
SNOW.
In Yorkshire, when it begins to snow, the boys exclaim,—
In Yorkshire, when it starts to snow, the boys shout,—
Snow, snow quicker,The cow's in the field.
When the storm is concluding, or when they wish it to give over, they sing,—
When the storm is ending, or when they want it to stop, they sing,—
Snow, snow, stop it now,The cow's in the clover!
White is the rural generic term for snow, and black for rain. Thus, in the well-known proverb,—
White is the rural term for snow, and black for rain. So, in the well-known proverb,—
February fills the ditch,Whether it's black or white;But if it’s white,It's definitely more appealing.
The Anglo-Saxon and Northern literatures are full of similar poetical synonymes. A common nursery riddle conceals the term snow by the image of a white glove, and another in the same manner designates rain as a black glove:
The Anglo-Saxon and Northern literatures are full of similar poetic synonyms. A common nursery riddle hides the word "snow" with the image of a white glove, and another similarly refers to rain as a black glove:
Going around the house, and around the house,And there sits a white glove in the window. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__Going around the house, and around the house,And there sits a black glove in the window.
| [38] | A copy of this riddle occurs in MS. Harl. 1962, of the seventeenth century. |
THE WIND.
When the wind is coming from the east,That's when the fish bite the least;When the wind is coming from the west,That's when the fish bite the best;When the wind is coming from the north,That's when the fish come forth;When the wind is coming from the south,It blows the bait right into the fish's mouth.
This weather-wise advice to anglers was obtained from Oxfordshire. It is found in a variety of versions throughout Great Britain.
This weather advice for fishermen comes from Oxfordshire. It's seen in different forms across Great Britain.
The Lincolnshire shepherds say,—
The Lincolnshire shepherds say, —
When the wind blows from the east,It's not good for people or animals:When the wind blows from the south,March winds are proverbial, and the following distich is not uncommon in Yorkshire:
March winds are well-known, and you can often hear this saying in Yorkshire:
March winds and April rain,Bring May flowers.To which we may add,—
To which we can add,—
The south wind brings damp weather,The north wind brings wet and cold together;The west wind always brings us rain,The east wind blows it back again.The solution of the following pretty nursery-riddle is a hurricane of wind:
The answer to the following charming nursery riddle is a hurricane of wind:
Arthur of Bower has torn his bond,He charges through the land:The King of Scots, with all his might,Cannot stop Arthur of the Bower.THE MOON.
The inhabitants of most of our rural districts still retain the old dislike to a new moon on Friday, and perpetuate it by the saying,—
The people in many of our rural areas still hold onto the old superstition about a new moon on Friday and keep it alive with the saying,—
Friday’s moon,Come when it will,It arrives too soon.Or by the following,—
Or by the following:—
The moon on Friday,Only comes once every seven years, and that feels too soon.Some persons, however, contend that Saturday is the unlucky day for the new, and Sunday equally so for a full moon. So runs the distich,—
Some people, however, argue that Saturday is an unlucky day for new beginnings, and Sunday is just as unlucky for a full moon. So goes the saying,—
Saturday starts fresh, and Sunday’s complete,Was never great, nor ever neat.The moon anciently occupied an important place in love-divinations. The following invocation to the planet is used by young women throughout the country:
The moon has always held an important role in love divination. Young women across the country use the following invocation to the planet:
New moon, new moon, tell meWill I see my true love tonight?Not at his best, but dressed just likeHow he looks every day.Or, sometimes, the following:
Or, sometimes, this:
New moon, new moon, I greet you!By all the goodness within you,Tonight, let me seeThe one who is meant to be my true love.Aubrey, in his Miscellanies, ed. 1696, p. 105, gives the following lines, used in Yorkshire for charming the moon to cause a dream of a future husband:
Aubrey, in his Miscellanies, ed. 1696, p. 105, includes the following lines, used in Yorkshire for enchanting the moon to induce a dream of a future husband:
All praise to the moon, all praise to you!Please, good moon, show meTonight who my husband will be!THE CUCKOO.
We are usefully reminded of the season of the cuckoo by the following homely proverbial lines:
We are helpfully reminded of cuckoo season by these simple, familiar lines:
In April,The cuckoo reveals his presence;In May,He sings all day long;In June,He changes his song;In July,He will fly away;By August,He must be gone!In some dialects thus:
In some dialects like this:
In April,A shake will happen;In May,A pipe all day;In June,A change in tune;In July,Get rid of a fly;Otherwise in August,Get rid of a must.Of the "change of tune" alluded to in these verses, it has been remarked (Trans. Linn. Soc.) that in early season the cuckoo begins with the interval of a minor third, proceeds to a major third, then to a fourth, then to a fifth; after which his voice breaks, never attaining a minor sixth. This was observed by old John Heywood, Workes, 1576, vi. 95:
Of the "change of tune" mentioned in these verses, it has been noted (Trans. Linn. Soc.) that in the early part of the season, the cuckoo starts with the interval of a minor third, moves to a major third, then to a fourth, and then to a fifth; after that, its voice breaks, never reaching a minor sixth. This was observed by old John Heywood, Workes, 1576, vi. 95:
In April, the cuckoo can sing her song perfectly,In June, she can't sing a single note;At first, she sings, "cuckoo, cuckoo," quite loudly;Eventually, it's "cuck, cuck, cuck," six cucks to one cuck.The following proverbial verses relating to this bird are current in the North of England:
The following popular sayings about this bird are common in the North of England:
The cuckoo arrives in April,Stays for all of May,Sings a song in midsummer,And then it leaves.When the cuckoo comes to the bare thorn,Sell your cow and buy your corn;But when she arrives at the full bit,Sell your corn and buy your sheep.The following "tokens of love and marriage by hearing the cuckow, or seeing other birds first in the morning," are extracted from an old chap-book entitled, the Golden Cabinet, or the Compleat Fortune-teller, n. d.: "When you walk out in the spring, as soon as you hear the cuckow, sit down on a bank or other convenient place, and pull your stockings off, saying,—
The following "tokens of love and marriage by hearing the cuckoo or seeing other birds first in the morning" are taken from an old chapbook titled The Golden Cabinet, or the Complete Fortune-teller, n.d.: "When you go out in the spring, as soon as you hear the cuckoo, sit down on a bank or another convenient spot, and take off your stockings, saying,—
May this happen for me,Now let me be happy.Then look between your great toe and the next, you'll find a hair that will easily come off. Take and look at it, and of the same colour will that of your lover be; wrap it in a piece of paper, and keep it ten days carefully; then, if it has not changed, the person will be constant: but if it dies, you are flattered." Gay alludes to this method of divination in his Fourth Pastoral, ed. 1742, p. 32.
Then look between your big toe and the next one; you'll find a hair that will easily come out. Take a look at it, and it will be the same color as your lover's hair. Wrap it in a piece of paper and keep it safe for ten days; if it hasn’t changed, the person will be loyal. But if it dies, you are being deceived. Gay references this method of divination in his Fourth Pastoral, ed. 1742, p. 32.
THE ROBIN AND THE WREN.
The superstitious reverence with which these birds are almost universally regarded takes its origin from a pretty belief that they undertake the delicate office of covering the dead bodies of any of the human race with moss or leaves, if by any means left exposed to the heavens. This opinion is alluded to by Shakespeare and many writers of his time, as by Drayton, for example:
The superstitious awe that people generally have for these birds comes from a charming belief that they take on the gentle task of covering the exposed bodies of the dead with moss or leaves when left out in the open. This idea is mentioned by Shakespeare and many writers of his era, including Drayton, for instance:
Covering the dead person's unclosed eye with moss,The little robin teaches us kindness.Webster, in his tragedy of Vittoria Corombona, 1612, couples the wren with the robin as coadjutors in this friendly office:
Webster, in his tragedy of Vittoria Corombona, 1612, pairs the wren with the robin as partners in this friendly role:
Summon the robin red-breast and the wren,Because they fly over shady groves,And with leaves and flowers they coverThe lonely bodies of unburied men.Notwithstanding the beautiful passage in Shakespeare to which we have alluded, it is nevertheless undeniable that, even to this day, the ancient belief attached to these birds is perpetuated chiefly by the simple ballad of the Babes in the Wood. Early in the last century, Addison was infatuated with that primitive song. "Admitting," he says, "there is even a despicable simplicity in the verse, yet because the sentiments appear genuine and unaffected, they are able to move the mind of the most polite reader with inward meltings of humanity and compassion." Exactly so; but this result arises from the extraordinary influence of early association over the mind, not from the pathos of the ballad itself, which is infinitely inferior to the following beautiful little nursery song I have the pleasure of transcribing into these pages:
Despite the beautiful passage in Shakespeare that we've mentioned, it's clear that even today, the ancient belief associated with these birds lives on mainly through the simple ballad of the Babes in the Wood. In the early part of the last century, Addison was captivated by that basic song. “Admitting,” he says, “there is a certain simplicity in the verse that could be seen as lacking,” yet because the feelings expressed seem genuine and sincere, they can genuinely touch even the most refined reader with deep feelings of humanity and compassion. Exactly right; but this impact comes from the strong influence of early associations on the mind, not from the emotional weight of the ballad itself, which is far inferior to the following lovely little nursery rhyme I’m happy to share in these pages:
My dear, do you knowHow a long time ago,Two poor little kids,Whose names I don't know,Were taken awayOn a nice summer day,And left in a forest,As I’ve heard people say.And when night fell,So sad was their situation,The sun went down,And the moon provided no light!They sobbed and sighed,And they cried bitterly,And the poor little things,They lay down and died.And when they were gone,The robins so redBrought strawberry leaves,And spread them over;And all day long,They sang them this song,—Poor kids in the forest!Poor kids in the forest!And don't you rememberThe kids in the forest?Adages respecting the robin and the wren, generally including the martin and swallow, are common in all parts of the country. In giving the following, it should be premised it is a popular notion that the wren is the wife of the robin; and Mr. Chambers mentions an extraordinary addition to this belief current in Scotland, that the wren is the paramour of the tom-tit!
Adages about the robin and the wren, often mentioning the martin and swallow, are common throughout the country. It should be noted that many people believe the wren is the mate of the robin; and Mr. Chambers highlights an interesting variation of this belief in Scotland, claiming that the wren is the lover of the tom-tit!
The red-breasted robin and the wrenAre God's rooster and hen; __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__The martin and the swallowAre the next two birds that follow.
[39] The wren was also called our Lady's hen. See Cotgrave, in v. Berchot. The next was obtained from Essex:
The next one came from Essex:
A robin and a wrenAre God's rooster and hen;A martin and a swallowAre God's shirt and collar!And the following from Warwickshire:
And the following from Warwickshire:
The robin and the wrenAre God's rooster and hen;The martin and the swallowAre God's bow and arrow! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
[40] In Cheshire the last line is, "Are God's mate and marrow," marrow being a provincial term for a companion. See Wilbraham's Chesh. Gloss. p. 105. The latter part of this stanza is thus occasionally varied:
The latter part of this stanza is sometimes changed:
The martin and the swallowAre birds created by God Almighty;where the word hollow is most probably a corruption of the verb hallow, to keep holy. [41] If this conjecture be correct, it exhibits the antiquity of the rhyme.
where the word hollow is most likely a variation of the verb hallow, meaning to keep holy. [41] If this guess is right, it shows how old the rhyme is.
[41] Parker, in his poem of the Nightingale, published in 1632, speaking of swallows, says:
Parker, in his poem about the Nightingale, published in 1632, talking about swallows, says:
And if in any's hand she chance to dye,'Tis counted ominous, I know not why.Nor let it be thought there is any impiety in giving these verses in the form in which they are cherished, for the humble recorders of them dream of no irreverence. On the contrary, the sanctification of these harmless birds is no unpoetical or objectionable fragment of the old popular mythology; and when we reflect that not even a sparrow "is forgotten before God," can we blame a persuasion which protects more innocent members of the feathered tribes from the intrusion of the wanton destroyer?
Nor should anyone think there's anything disrespectful in presenting these verses in the form they are loved; the humble keepers of them intend no irreverence. On the contrary, honoring these harmless birds is not an unpoetic or objectionable piece of old popular mythology; and when we consider that not even a sparrow "is forgotten before God," can we criticize a belief that safeguards more innocent members of the bird family from the intrusion of the careless destroyer?
It is exceedingly unlucky to molest the nests of any of these birds. This belief is very prevalent, and it was acted upon in a case which came under my observation, where, misfortune having twice followed the destruction of a swallow's nest, the birds were afterwards freely permitted to enjoy the corner of a portico, where their works were certainly not very ornamental. The following verses were obtained from Essex:
It is really bad luck to disturb the nests of any of these birds. This belief is very common, and I witnessed a situation where misfortune struck twice after a swallow's nest was destroyed, so the birds were allowed to take over a corner of a porch, even though their nests were not particularly attractive. The following verses were obtained from Essex:
The robin and the red-breast,The robin and the wren;If you take anything from their nest,You’ll never thrive again!The robin and the red-breast,The martin and the swallow;If you touch one of their eggs,Bad luck will surely follow!The Irish call the wren the king of birds; and they have a story that, when the birds wanted to choose a king, they determined that the one which could fly highest should have the crown. The wren, being small, very cunningly hid itself under the wing of the eagle; and when that bird could fly no higher, the wren slipped from its hiding-place, and easily gained the victory. In Cotgrave's Dictionarie, 1632, we find the wren called roitelet, and in another dictionary, quoted by Mr. Wright, it is called roi des oiseaux, so it is probable a similar superstition prevailed in France. The ceremony of hunting of the wren on St. Stephen's day has been so frequently described, that it is not necessary to do more than allude to it, and to mention that Mr. Crofton Croker possesses a proclamation lately issued by the mayor of Cork, forbidding the custom, with the intent "to prevent cruelty to animals," as the document is headed. This custom was also prevalent in France. An analogous ceremony is still observed in Pembrokeshire on Twelfth-day, where it is customary to carry about a wren, termed the king, inclosed in a box with glass windows, surmounted by a wheel, from which are appended various coloured ribands. It is attended by men and boys, who visit the farm-houses, and sing a song, the following fragments of which are all that have come under my observation:
The Irish refer to the wren as the king of birds, and they have a story that says when the birds wanted to choose a king, they decided that the one who could fly the highest would earn the crown. The wren, being small, cleverly hid under the eagle's wing; and when the eagle could soar no higher, the wren slipped out from its hiding spot and easily claimed victory. In Cotgrave's Dictionary from 1632, the wren is called roitelet, and in another dictionary referenced by Mr. Wright, it is referred to as roi des oiseaux, so it's likely that a similar superstition existed in France. The tradition of hunting the wren on St. Stephen's Day has been described so often that it’s enough just to mention it and to note that Mr. Crofton Croker has a proclamation recently issued by the mayor of Cork, prohibiting the custom with the intent "to prevent cruelty to animals," as stated in the document. This custom also existed in France. A similar tradition is still practiced in Pembrokeshire on Twelfth Night, where it’s customary to carry around a wren, called the king, enclosed in a box with glass windows, topped with a wheel, from which hang various colored ribbons. Men and boys participate, visiting farmhouses and singing a song, of which only the following fragments have come to my attention:
We have come hereTo enjoy your hospitality,And the king is dressedIn the finest silks.He has moved from a cottager's stall,To a beautiful gilded hall.The poor bird often dies under the ceremony, which tradition connects with the death of an ancient British king at the time of the Saxon invasion. The rhyme used in Ireland runs thus:
The poor bird often dies during the ceremony, which tradition links to the death of an ancient British king during the Saxon invasion. The rhyme used in Ireland goes like this:
The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,Was caught on St. Stephen's day in the gorse;Though he's small, his family is large,So please, kind folks, give him a treat.THE OWL.
Hoo-hoo!Cold toe!expresses the hooting of the owl. This bird, according to old ballads and legends, was of exalted parentage. A rural ballad, cited in Waterton's Essays on Natural History, 1838, p. 8, says:
expresses the hooting of the owl. This bird, according to old ballads and legends, came from a noble background. A rural ballad, mentioned in Waterton's Essays on Natural History, 1838, p. 8, says:
Once, I was a king's daughter,Sitting on a lady's lap;Now, I roam at night,Exiled to the ivy tree.Crying hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo,Hoo, hoo, hoo, my feet are cold.Feel sorry for me, for you can see meSuffering, poor, and old.An anonymous writer, in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxiv. p. 1003, mentions an old fairy tale respecting the owl, which, he says, is well known to the nurses of Herefordshire. A certain fairy, disguised as an old distressed woman, went to a baker's shop, and begged some dough of his daughter, of whom she obtained a very small piece. This she farther requested leave to bake in the oven, where it swelling to the size of a large loaf, the baker's daughter refused to let her have it. She, however, gave the pretended beggar another piece of dough, but still smaller than the first; this swelled in the oven even more than the other, and was in like manner retained. A third and still smaller piece of dough came out of the oven the largest of all, and shared the same fate. The disguised fairy, convinced of the woman's covetousness by these repeated experiments, no longer restrained her indignation. She resumed her proper form, and struck the culprit with her wand, who immediately flew out of the window in the shape of an owl. This story may be a version of the legend alluded to by Ophelia in Hamlet, iv. 5: "They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be."
An anonymous writer in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxiv. p. 1003, talks about an old fairy tale about the owl, which he says is well-known among the nurses in Herefordshire. A fairy, disguised as a distressed old woman, went to a baker’s shop and asked his daughter for some dough, from which she got a tiny piece. She then asked to bake it in the oven, and it rose to the size of a large loaf, but the baker’s daughter refused to give it to her. Instead, she gave the disguised fairy another piece of dough, even smaller than the first; this one rose even more in the oven, yet it was still kept from her. A third, even smaller piece came out of the oven looking the largest of all, but it met the same fate. The disguised fairy, seeing how greedy the woman was from these repeated episodes, couldn’t hold back her anger anymore. She transformed back to her true form and struck the woman with her wand, who then flew out the window as an owl. This story may be a version of the legend referenced by Ophelia in Hamlet, iv. 5: "They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be."
MAGPIES.
Wide-spread is the superstition that it is unlucky to see magpies under certain conditions, but these vary considerably in different localities. Thus, in some counties, two bring sorrow, in others joy; while, in some places, we are instructed that one magpie is a signal of misfortune, which can, however, be obviated by pulling off your hat, and making a very polite bow to the knowing bird. This operation I have more than once seen quite seriously performed. In Lancashire they say:
Wide-spread is the superstition that seeing magpies under certain conditions brings bad luck, but these beliefs vary a lot in different areas. In some counties, seeing two magpies brings sadness, while in others it brings happiness. In some places, people believe that spotting one magpie is a sign of misfortune, which can supposedly be avoided by taking off your hat and giving a respectful bow to the bird. I've seen this done quite seriously more than once. In Lancashire, they say:
One for anger,Two for joy,Three for a wedding,Four for a birth,Five for the wealthy,Six for the needy,Seven for a witch,I can't tell you anything else.But in Tim Bobbin it is expressly said that two are indicative of ill fortune: "I saigh two rott'n pynots, hongum, that wur a sign o' bad fashin; for I heard my gronny say hoode os leef o seen two owd harries os two pynots." The same belief obtains in Scotland. In the North they thus address the bird:
But in Tim Bobbin it clearly states that two are a sign of bad luck: "I saw two rotten nuts hanging, which was a sign of misfortune; for I heard my grandma say it’s bad luck to see two old nuts or two nuts." The same belief exists in Scotland. In the North, they address the bird this way:
Magpie, magpie, talk and run away,Show me your tail, and good luck come my way.The half-nest of the magpie is accounted for by a rural ornithological legend. Once on a time, when the world was very young, the magpie, by some accident or another, although she was quite as cunning as she is at present, was the only bird that was unable to build a nest. In this perplexity, she applied to the other members of the feathered race, who kindly undertook to instruct her. So, on a day appointed, they assembled for that purpose, and, the materials having been collected, the blackbird said, "Place that stick there," suiting the action to the word, as she commenced the work. "Ah!" said the magpie, "I knew that afore." The other birds followed with their suggestions, but to every piece of advice, the magpie kept saying, "Ah! I knew that afore." At length, when the birdal habitation was half-finished, the patience of the company was fairly exhausted by the pertinacious conceit of the pye, so they all left her with the united exclamation, "Well, Mistress Mag, as you seem to know all about it, you may e'en finish the nest yourself." Their resolution was obdurate and final, and to this day the magpie exhibits the effects of partial instruction by her miserably incomplete abode.
The half-built nest of the magpie is explained by a rural bird-watching legend. Once upon a time, when the world was still young, the magpie, despite being as clever as she is now, was the only bird unable to build a nest. In her confusion, she turned to the other birds for help, and they kindly agreed to teach her. So, on a designated day, they gathered for this purpose, and after collecting materials, the blackbird said, "Place that stick there," demonstrating as she started the construction. "Ah!" said the magpie, "I already knew that." The other birds offered their advice, but to every suggestion, the magpie kept responding, "Ah! I already knew that." Eventually, when the nest was only half-finished, the patience of the group ran out due to the magpie's stubborn arrogance, and they all left her, saying together, "Well, Mistress Mag, since you seem to know everything, you can finish the nest yourself." Their decision was firm and final, and to this day, the magpie shows the results of partial teaching with her poorly built home.
The magpie is always called Madge, and the Christian names given to birds deserve a notice. Thus we have Jack Snipe, Jenny Wren, Jack Daw, Tom Tit, Robin Redbreast, Poll Parrot, Jill Hooter, Jack Curlew, Jack Nicker, and King Harry for the goldfinch, and the list might be widely extended. A starling is always Jacob, a sparrow is Philip, a raven is Ralph, and the consort of the Tom Tit rejoices in the euphonic name of Betty! Children give the name of Dick to all small birds, which, in nursery parlance, are universally Dickybirds.
The magpie is always called Madge, and the names given to birds are worth mentioning. So we have Jack Snipe, Jenny Wren, Jack Daw, Tom Tit, Robin Redbreast, Poll Parrot, Jill Hooter, Jack Curlew, Jack Nicker, and King Harry for the goldfinch, and the list could go on. A starling is always named Jacob, a sparrow is Philip, a raven is Ralph, and the partner of the Tom Tit has the charming name of Betty! Kids call all small birds Dick, which, in nursery talk, are commonly known as Dickybirds.
WHO KILL'D COCK ROBIN.
Who killed Cock Robin?I did, said the sparrow,With my bow and arrow,I killed Cock Robin.Who saw him die?I did, said the fly,With my little eye,And I saw him die.Who caught his blood?I did, said the fish,With my little dish,And I caught his blood.Who made his shroud?I did, said the beadle,With my little needle,And I made his shroud.Who will dig his grave?I will, said the owl,With my spade and shovel, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__And I'll dig his grave.Who'll be the parson?I will, said the rook,With my little book,And I'll be the parson.Who'll be the clerk?I will, said the lark,If it's not too dark,And I'll be the clerk.Who'll carry him to the grave?I will, said the kite,If it's not at night,And I'll carry him to his grave.Who'll carry the link?I will, said the linnet,I'll get it in a minute,And I'll carry the link.Who'll be chief mourner?I will, said the dove,I mourn for my love,And I'll be chief mourner.Who'll bear the pall?We will, said the wren,Both the cock and the hen,And we'll bear the pall.Who'll sing a psalm?I will, said the thrush,As she sat in a bush,And I'll sing a psalm.And who'll toll the bell?I will, said the bull,Because I can pull;And so, Cock Robin, farewell!All the birds in the airStarted sighing and sobbing,When they heard the bell tollFor poor Cock Robin!
[42] Shovel. An archaism. The above version of this widely-extended poem is taken from a copy printed many years ago in Aldermary Churchyard, entitled, "Cock Robin, a pretty gilded toy for either girl or boy, suited to children of all ages," 18mo. It is reprinted even at the present day with a few immaterial variations.
The version of this popular poem above comes from a copy printed many years ago in Aldermary Churchyard, titled, "Cock Robin, a lovely gilded toy for any girl or boy, perfect for children of all ages," 18mo. It's still being reprinted today with a few minor changes.
In Eccardi Historia Studii Etymologici, 8vo. Han. 1711, p. 269, is an old Wendic nursery ballad of a somewhat similar character. Perhaps the first verse will be sufficient to give the reader an idea of its composition.
In Eccardi Historia Studii Etymologici, 8vo. Han. 1711, p. 269, there is an old Wendic nursery ballad that has a somewhat similar style. The first verse may be enough to give the reader an idea of its composition.
Who will be the bride?Answer the question of who will be the bride:Answering swiftlyThe owl came to say:If the bright moon shines tonight,I will be the bride;If I will be the bride.Who, who, will be the bride?The owl says she will be the bride.The owl declared,Once more to them both,I am sure I’m a fearsome lady;I cannot be the bride,I cannot be the bride!CROWS.
In Essex they have a rhyme respecting crows very similar to that above quoted regarding magpies. The following lines are said to be true, if crows fly towards you:
In Essex, there's a rhyme about crows that's quite similar to the one mentioned earlier about magpies. The following lines are believed to be true if crows fly towards you:
One means bad luck,Two means good luck;Three means health,Four means wealth;Five means illness,And six means death!PIGEONS.
Pigeons don’t know sadness,Until they take a bad fall.This means that pigeons are never short of food except when they are obliged to live on the seeds of the grass, which ripen before the crops of grain. The seed-stalk of grass is called the bent, and hence the term benting.
This means that pigeons always have enough food to eat unless they have to rely on grass seeds, which mature before grain crops. The seed stalk of grass is called the bent, and that's where the term benting comes from.
LAPWING AND RINGDOVE.
The common people in the North Riding of Yorkshire, says Brockett, ii. 71, believe that at one period the cushat, or ringdove, laid its eggs upon the ground, and that the peewit, or lapwing, made its nest on high; but that some time or other, an amicable arrangement took place between these birds, exchanging their localities for building. The peewit accordingly expresses its disappointment at the bargain as follows:
The regular folks in the North Riding of Yorkshire, according to Brockett, ii. 71, think that at one time the cushat, or ringdove, laid its eggs on the ground, while the peewit, or lapwing, built its nest up high; but at some point, these birds struck a friendly deal and swapped their nesting spots. The peewit then shares its disappointment about the arrangement in the following way:
Pee-wit, pee-wit,I built my nest and now I regret it.While the cushat rejoices that she is out of the reach of mischievous boys,—
While the dove is happy to be out of the reach of mischievous boys,—
Coo, coo, come on now,Little boyWith your stick,Don't come here!THE WOOD-PIGEON.
An Isle of Wight legend respecting this bird tells us that, soon after the creation of the world, all the birds were assembled for the purpose of learning to build their nests, and the magpie, being very sagacious and cunning, was chosen to teach them. Those birds that were most industrious, such as the wren and the long-tailed-capon, or pie-finch, he instructed to make whole nests in the shape of a cocoa-nut, with a small hole on one side; others, not so diligent, he taught to make half-nests, shaped something like a teacup. Having thus instructed a great variety of birds according to their capacity, it came to the turn of the wood-pigeon, who, being a careless and lazy bird, was very indifferent about the matter, and while the magpie was directing him how to place the little twigs, &c., he kept exclaiming, "What, athurt and across! what zoo! what zoo!—athurt and across! what zoo! what zoo!" At length the magpie was so irritated with his stupidity and indolence, that he flew away, and the wood-pigeon, having had no more instruction, to this day builds the worst nest of any of the feathered tribe, consisting merely of layers of cross-twigs.
An Isle of Wight legend about this bird tells us that, soon after the world was created, all the birds gathered to learn how to build their nests, and the magpie, being very intelligent and clever, was chosen to teach them. The most hardworking birds, like the wren and the long-tailed finch, were taught to make entire nests shaped like a coconut, with a small hole on one side; others, who were not as diligent, were shown how to make half-nests that looked somewhat like a teacup. After instructing a variety of birds based on their abilities, it was the wood-pigeon’s turn, who, being careless and lazy, didn’t really care about the lesson. While the magpie was showing him how to arrange the little twigs, he kept shouting, "What, across and along! what zoo! what zoo!—across and along! what zoo! what zoo!" Eventually, the magpie got so frustrated with his stupidity and laziness that he flew away. Without any further instruction, the wood-pigeon still builds the worst nest of all the birds, made up only of layers of crossed twigs.
Montagu gives a Suffolk version of the tale, which differs considerably from the above. "The magpie, it is said, once undertook to teach the pigeon how to build a more substantial and commodious dwelling; but, instead of being a docile pupil, the pigeon kept on her old cry of 'Take two, Taffy! take two!' The magpie insisted that this was a very unworkmanlike manner of proceeding, one stick at a time being as much as could be managed to advantage; but the pigeon reiterated her 'two, take two,' till Mag, in a violent passion, gave up the task, exclaiming, 'I say that one at a time's enough; and, if you think otherwise, you may set about the work yourself, for I will have no more to do with it!' Since that time, the wood-pigeon has built her slight platform of sticks, which certainly suffers much in comparison with the strong substantial structure of the magpie." The cooing of the wood-pigeon produces, it is said—
Montagu shares a Suffolk version of the story, which is quite different from the one above. "It’s said that the magpie once tried to teach the pigeon how to build a stronger and more comfortable home; however, instead of being an eager student, the pigeon kept repeating her old saying, 'Take two, Taffy! take two!' The magpie insisted that this was a very ineffective way to go about it, as managing one stick at a time was the best approach. But the pigeon kept saying, 'Two, take two,' until the magpie, in a fit of anger, gave up and declared, 'I say that one at a time is enough; and if you disagree, you can do the work yourself, because I’m done with this!' Since then, the wood-pigeon has made her simple nest of sticks, which definitely pales in comparison to the strong, sturdy home of the magpie." The cooing of the wood-pigeon produces, it is said—
Take two of the cookie, Taffy!Take two of the cookie, Taffy!Alluding, says Mr. Chambers, to a story of a Welshman, who thus interpreted the note, and acted upon the recommendation by stealing two of his neighbour's cows.
Alluding, says Mr. Chambers, to a story of a Welshman, who interpreted the note this way and followed the advice by stealing two of his neighbor's cows.
DOMESTIC POULTRY.
The clucking conversation of poultry, the cackling of the hen, and the replying chuckle of the cock, is represented by the following dialogue:
The clucking chatter of the chickens, the cackling of the hen, and the responding chuckle of the rooster are captured in the following dialogue:
Hen.Cock, cock, I have laid!Cock.Hen, hen, that's well said!Hen.Even though I have to go barefoot every day!Cock (with spirit).Sell your eggs, and buy shoes,Sell your eggs, and buy shoes!Mr. Chambers, p. 167, has given a very different version of this current in Scotland. In Galloway, the hen's song is:
Mr. Chambers, p. 167, has provided a very different account of this trend in Scotland. In Galloway, the hen's song is:
The rooster went to Rome, looking for shoes, looking for shoes,The rooster went to Rome, looking for shoes,And still, I always go barefoot, barefoot!The following proverb is current in the North of England:
The following saying is common in the North of England:
If the rooster sheds feathers before the hen,We'll have mixed weather;But if the hen sheds feathers before the rooster,We'll have weather as rough as a rock.DRAGON-FLIES.
In some parts of the Isle of Wight, these insects are found of a peculiarly large size, and their colours are extremely beautiful. There is an old legend respecting them which is still current. It is supposed by the country people that their sting or bite is venomous, as bad as that of a snake or adder, and perhaps from this belief their provincial name of snake-stanger or snake-stang is derived. It is said that these insects can distinguish the good children from the bad when they go fishing: if the latter go too near the water, they are almost sure to be bitten; but when the good boys go, the dragon-flies point out the places where the fish are, by settling on the banks, or flags, in the proper direction. This curious myth is commemorated by the following song:
In some areas of the Isle of Wight, these insects are found to be unusually large, and their colors are incredibly vibrant. There's an old legend about them that still circulates. Locals believe that their sting or bite is poisonous, as bad as that of a snake or adder, and this belief might have led to their regional name of snake-stanger or snake-stang. It's said that these insects can tell the good kids from the bad when they go fishing: if the bad ones get too close to the water, they’re almost guaranteed to get bitten; but when the good boys go, the dragonflies show them where the fish are by settling on the banks or reeds in the right direction. This interesting myth is celebrated in the following song:
Snakestanger! snakestanger! fly all around the streams;Sting all the bad boys that go for the fish looks,But let the good boys catch all the fish they can,And carry them home __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ to fry them in a pan;Bread and butter they shall eat at supper with their fish,While all the little bad boys will only lick the dish.
[43] Carry them away home. This has of late years been introduced into the nursery, but in different suit of clothes:
This has recently been introduced in the nursery, but in a different outfit:
Dragonfly! Dragonfly! Fly around the stream;Sting all the bad boys who are after the fish;But let the good boys catch as many as they can,And then take them home to be fried in a pan;With tasty bread and butter they will enjoy their fish,While all the naughty boys will just lick the dish.THE SNAIL.
In Yorkshire, in evenings when the dew falls heavily, the boys hunt the large black snails, and sing:
In Yorkshire, on evenings when the dew falls thickly, the boys search for the big black snails and sing:
Snail, snail! Show your horn,Or I'll kill your mom and dad in the morning.Another version runs thus:
Another version goes like this:
Snail, snail, show your horns,I'll give you bread and barley grains.And sometimes the following song is shouted on this occasion:
And sometimes the following song is sung out loud on this occasion:
Sneel, snaul,Thieves are coming to take down your wall.Sneel, snaul,Sound your horn,Thieves are coming to steal your corn,Arriving at four in the morning.The version generally heard in the southern counties differs very considerably from the above, and the original use and meaning are very seldom practised or understood:
The version commonly heard in the southern counties is quite different from the one above, and the original use and meaning are rarely practiced or understood:
Snail, snail, come out of your shell,Or else I'll hit you until you're black as coal.Mr. Chambers, p. 171, gives some very interesting observations on these lines. "In England," he says, "the snail scoops out hollows, little rotund chambers, in limestone, for its residence. This habit of the animal is so important in its effects, as to have attracted the attention of geologists; one of the most distinguished of whom (Dr. Buckland) alluded to it at the meeting of the British Association at Plymouth, in 1841." The above rhyme is a boy's invocation to the snail to come out of such holes or any other places of retreat resorted to by it. Mr. Chambers also informs us that, in some districts of Scotland, it is supposed that it is an indication of good weather if the snail obeys the injunction of putting out its horn:
Mr. Chambers, p. 171, shares some really interesting observations on these lines. "In England," he says, "the snail digs out little round chambers in limestone for its home. This behavior of the animal is so significant that it has caught the attention of geologists; one of the most notable of them (Dr. Buckland) mentioned it at the British Association meeting in Plymouth in 1841." The rhyme above is a boy's call for the snail to come out of its holes or any other hiding spots it uses. Mr. Chambers also tells us that in some areas of Scotland, it's believed that if the snail extends its horn, it’s a sign of good weather:
Snailie, snailie, stick out your horn,And let us know if it will be a nice day tomorrow.It appears from Gay's Shepherd's Week, ed. 1742, p. 34, that snails were formerly used in rural love-divinations. It was the custom [44] to place the little animal on the soft ashes, and to form an opinion respecting the initial of the name of a future lover by the fancied letter made by the crawling of the snail on the ashes:
It seems from Gay's Shepherd's Week, ed. 1742, p. 34, that snails were once used in rural love divinations. The custom was to place the little creature on the soft ashes and predict the initial of a future lover's name based on the shape formed by the snail as it crawled on the ashes:
Last May Day fair, I searched for a snail,That might reveal the name of my secret love;I found a snail on a gooseberry bush,Because snails are always near the sweetest fruit.I grabbed the little creature and quickly headed home,And spread the milk-white embers on the hearth.The snail crawled slowly, and if I can read it right,In the soft ashes, it made a curious L;Oh, may this amazing sign bring good luck,Because L is in Lubberkin and Love!
[44] A similar practice is common in Ireland. See Croker's Fairy Legends, i. 215. Verses on the snail, similar to those given above, are current over many parts of Europe. In Denmark, the children say (Thiele, iii. 138)—
Verses about the snail, like the ones mentioned above, are popular in many parts of Europe. In Denmark, children say (Thiele, iii. 138)—
Snail! snail! come out here!There's a man who wants to buy your house,For a measure of cash!Snail! snail! come out here!Here is a man who will buy your house,For a measure of white money.A similar idea is preserved in Germany, the children saying (Des Knaben Wunderhorn, iii. 81)—
A similar idea is kept alive in Germany, with children saying (Des Knaben Wunderhorn, iii. 81)—
Nun, Schwester im Schneckenhäussle,Du glaubst, du bist gut versteckt.Wenn der Pater Guardian kommt,Wünscht er dir einen guten Morgen!Now, sister in the shell house,You think you’re well hidden.When Father Guardian comes,He’ll wish you a good morning!The following lines are given by M. Kuhn, Gebräuche und Aberglauben, 398, as current in Stendal:
The following lines are provided by M. Kuhn, Gebräuche und Aberglauben, 398, as being common in Stendal:
Snow house, tiny house,Stand with your horns out,Sweetly I made you in the gravel,Then the ravens eat you.APPLES.
Children in the North of England, when they eat apples, or similar fruit, delight in throwing away the pippin, exclaiming—
Children in the North of England, when they eat apples or similar fruit, enjoy tossing away the seeds, exclaiming—
Pippin, pippin, take off,Bring me another day!THE WALNUT-TREE.
There is a common persuasion amongst country people that whipping a walnut-tree tends to increase the produce, and improve the flavour of the fruit. This belief is embodied in the following distich:
There’s a common belief among rural folks that whipping a walnut tree boosts its yield and enhances the flavor of the fruit. This idea is captured in the following couplet:
A woman, a spaniel, and a walnut tree,The more you discipline them, the better they are.And also in this quatrain:
And also in this stanza:
Three things improve when treated well,A nut, a donkey, and a woman;Take the beating away from them,And they won’t be good for anyone.THE ASH.
Burn green ash wood,It's a fire fit for a queen:Burn dry ash wood,It'll make a guy swear.Ash, when green, makes good fire-wood, and, contrary perhaps to all other sorts of wood, is bad for that purpose when sear, or dry, withered. The old Anglo-Saxon term sear is well illustrated by this homely proverb. The reader will remember Macbeth:
Ash, when it's fresh, makes great firewood, but, unlike other types of wood, it's not effective for that purpose when it's dry or withered. The old Anglo-Saxon word "sear" is clearly shown in this common saying. The reader might recall Macbeth:
I've lived long enough:My way of life has fallen into the withered and yellow leaf.PEAS.
Children get the pods of a pea, and flinging them at each other, cry
Children grab pea pods and, throwing them at each other, shout
Pea-pod hucks,Twenty for a pin;If you don’t want them,I’ll take them back.The hucks are the shells or pods, and agin the provincial pronunciation of again.
The hucks are the shells or pods, and agin is the local way of saying again.
PIMPERNELL.
No heart can understand, no tongue can express,The qualities of the pimpernel.Gerard enumerates several complaints for which this plant was considered useful, and he adds, that country people prognosticated fine or bad weather by observing in the morning whether its flowers were spread out or shut up.—Herbal, first ed. p. 494. According to a MS. on magic, preserved in the Chetham Library at Manchester, "the herb pimpernell is good to prevent witchcraft, as Mother Bumby doth affirme;" and the following lines must be used when it is gathered:
Gerard lists several uses for this plant, noting that rural folks predicted good or bad weather by checking whether its flowers were open or closed in the morning.—Herbal, first ed. p. 494. According to a manuscript on magic stored in the Chetham Library in Manchester, "the herb pimpernell is effective in warding off witchcraft, as Mother Bumby claims;" and the following lines should be recited when it is picked:
Pimpernel herb, I have found youGrowing on the ground of Christ Jesus:The same gift the Lord Jesus gave to you,When he spilled his blood on the tree.Rise up, pimpernel, and come with me,And may God bless me,And all who will wear you. Amen."Say this fifteen dayes together, twice a day, morning earlye fasting, and in the evening full." MS. ibid.
"Say this for fifteen days straight, twice a day, early in the morning on an empty stomach, and in the evening full." MS. ibid.
MARUM.
If you prepare it,The cats will eat it;If you plant it,The cats will notice it.BIRD-SHOOER'S SONG.
Hey, birds, hey,Take a biteAnd leave a bit,And don't come back today!This is the universal bird-shooer's song in the midland counties.
This is the universal bird-shooer's song in the central counties.
THE GNAT.
In the eastern counties of England, and perhaps in other parts of the country, children chant the following lines when they are pursuing this insect:
In the eastern counties of England, and maybe in other parts of the country, children chant these lines when they're chasing this insect:
Gnat, gnat, fly into my hat,And I’ll give you a piece of bacon!THE TROUT.
In Herefordshire the alder is called the aul, and the country people use the following proverbial lines:
In Herefordshire, the alder is called the aul, and the locals use these proverbial lines:
When the bud of the aul is the size of a trout's eye,That's when that fish is in season in the river Wye.TOBACCO.
Tobacco here,Will make you betterIf you're ill.Tobacco was formerly held in great esteem as a medicine. Sickness was the old term for illness of any kind, and is no doubt the more correct expression.
Tobacco was once highly valued as a medicine. Sickness was the old term for any kind of illness, and it is definitely the more accurate expression.
It may just be worth a passing notice to observe, that Shakespeare never mentions tobacco, nor alludes to it even indirectly. What a brilliant subject for a critic! A treatise might be written to prove from this circumstance that the great poet was not in the habit of smoking; or, on the contrary, that he was so great an admirer of the pernicious weed, that, being unable to allude to it without a panegyric, he very wisely eschewed the subject for fear of giving offence to his royal master, the author of the 'Counterblast.' The discussion, at all events, would be productive of as much utility as the disputes which have occasioned so many learned letters respecting the orthography of the poet's name.
It might be worth mentioning that Shakespeare never talks about tobacco, nor does he refer to it even indirectly. What a fascinating topic for a critic! An essay could be written to argue that the great poet didn’t smoke at all; or, conversely, that he admired the harmful plant so much that he avoided mentioning it to prevent offending his royal patron, the writer of the 'Counterblast.' Either way, the discussion would be just as useful as the debates that have led to so many scholarly letters about the spelling of the poet's name.
JACK-A-DANDY.
Boys have a very curious saying respecting the reflection of the sun's beams from the surface of water upon a ceiling, which they call "Jack-a-dandy beating his wife with a stick of silver." If a mischievous boy with a bit of looking-glass, or similar material, threw the reflection into the eye of a neighbour, the latter would complain, "He's throwing Jack-a-dandy in my eyes."
Boys have a funny saying about how sunlight reflects off water onto a ceiling, which they call "Jack-a-dandy beating his wife with a stick of silver." If a cheeky boy with a mirror or something similar sent the reflection into a neighbor's eye, the neighbor would say, "He's throwing Jack-a-dandy in my eyes."
VII.—PROVERB-RHYMES.
Metrical proverbs are so numerous, that a large volume might be filled with them without much difficulty; and it is, therefore, unnecessary to say that nothing beyond a very small selection is here attempted. We may refer the curious reader to the collections of Howell, Ray, and Denham, the last of which chiefly relates to natural objects and the weather, for other examples; but the subject is so diffuse, that these writers have gone a very short way towards the compilation of a complete series.
Metrical proverbs are so plentiful that a large book could easily be filled with them; so it's unnecessary to say that only a small selection is included here. Curious readers can check out the collections by Howell, Ray, and Denham, the last of which mainly focuses on natural objects and the weather, for more examples. However, the topic is so broad that these authors have only scratched the surface in compiling a complete collection.
Give something and take it back,And you’ll end up in hell’s cart!Said by children when one wishes a gift to be returned, a system naturally much disliked. So says Plato, των ορθως δοθεντων αφαιρεσις ουκ εστι. Ray, p. 113, ed. 1768. Ben Jonson appears to allude to this proverb in the Sad Shepherd, where Maudlin says—"Do you give a thing and take a thing, madam?" Cotgrave, Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, 1632, in v. Retirer, mentions "a triviall proverb:"
Said by children when someone wants a gift back, a system that is naturally unpopular. Plato states, “Taking away what has been properly given is not right.” Ray, p. 113, ed. 1768. Ben Jonson seems to reference this saying in the Sad Shepherd, where Maudlin asks, “Do you give a thing and take a thing, madam?” Cotgrave, Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, 1632, in v. Retirer, mentions "a trivial proverb:"
Give something,And take something,To wear the devil's gold ring.And it is alluded to in a little work entitled Homer à la Mode, a mock poem upon the First and Second Books of Homer's Iliads, 12mo. Oxford, 1665, p. 34:
And it's mentioned in a small work titled Homer à la Mode, a parody poem about the First and Second Books of Homer's Iliads, 12mo. Oxford, 1665, p. 34:
Please, for my sake, let him have her,Because the Greeks gave her to him;To give something and then take something,You know that's the devil's gold ring!The proverb sometimes runs thus:
The saying sometimes goes like this:
Share a thing, grab a thing,That's a game for old folks."A lee with a hatchet," as they say in the North, is a circumstantial self-evident falsehood, and so runs the proverb:
"A lee with a hatchet," as they say up North, is a situation-based obvious lie, and that's how the saying goes:
That's a blatant lie,No dog in town can compare to it.Children say the following when one has been detected in any misrepresentation of a mischievous character—
Children say the following when someone has been caught in a lie or doing something sneaky—
Liar, liar, lick spit,Your tongue will be cut,And all the dogs in the townWill get a taste of it.The following versions of the former rhyme are current in the North of England:
The following versions of the old rhyme are popular in the North of England:
That's a lid with a string,You can close the door and grab it.That's a lid with a cover,And a brass handle to hold onto.In Yorkshire a tell-tale is termed a pleen-pie, and there is a proverb current which is very similar to that given above:
In Yorkshire, a snitch is called a pleen-pie, and there’s a saying that’s quite similar to the one mentioned above:
A pie filled with resentment,Your tongue will be cut,An ivory dog in the townWill have a piece.Left and rightBrings good fortune at night.When your right eye itches, it is a sign of good luck; when the left, a sign of bad luck. When both itch, the above distich expresses the popular belief.
When your right eye itches, it's a sign of good luck; when your left eye itches, it's a sign of bad luck. When both itch, the saying above reflects the common belief.
He got out of the mess,And landed in the trouble.A muxy is a dunghill, and the pucksy a quagmire. This is a variation of the old saying of falling out of the dripping-pan into the fire:
A muxy is a garbage heap, and the pucksy is a swamp. This is a twist on the old saying about falling from the frying pan into the fire:
I fell into Scylla while trying to avoid Charybdis.The ones who created me were rude,Because they made me tougher than the devil!Knives can't cut me, fire can't burn me,Dogs bark at me, but can’t bite me!These proverbial lines are supposed to be spoken by Suffolk cheese, which is so hard that a myth tells us gate-pegs in that county are made with it. The proverb has been long true, and Pepys, writing in 1661, says: "I found my wife vexed at her people for grumbling to eate Suffolk cheese, which I also am vexed at."
These famous lines are said to be spoken by Suffolk cheese, which is so hard that there's a myth that gate-pegs in that county are made from it. The saying has been true for a long time, and Pepys, writing in 1661, states: "I found my wife annoyed with her family for complaining about eating Suffolk cheese, which I’m also annoyed about."
Mention someone and they'll show up,Then bring up the devil, and he'll come closer.Said of a person who makes his appearance unexpectedly, when he is spoken of.
Said of someone who shows up out of the blue when they're being mentioned.
When Easter comes while our Lady holds it,Then England should beware of trouble.That is, when Easter falls on Lady-day, March 25, which happens when the Sunday Letter is G, and the Golden Number 5, 13, or 16. See Aubrey's Miscellanies, ed. 1696, p. 21.
That is, when Easter falls on Lady Day, March 25, which occurs when the Sunday Letter is G, and the Golden Number is 5, 13, or 16. See Aubrey's Miscellanies, ed. 1696, p. 21.
In JulySome harvest rye.In August,If one doesn't, the other has to.From Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire, given in Hone's Year-Book, col. 1595.
From Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire, listed in Hone's Year-Book, col. 1595.
In MarchThe birds start to look for their nests;In AprilThe corn starts to grow;In MayThe birds start to lay eggs.From Lancashire. This resembles in its character the cuckoo song we have given at p. 160.
From Lancashire. This is similar in character to the cuckoo song we mentioned on p. 160.
Friday night's dreamOn Saturday is told,Is sure to come true,No matter how old.When it goes up in smoke,It'll come crashing down.A North country proverb, the sops being the small detached clouds hanging on the sides of a mountain. Carr, ii. 147.
A northern country saying, with the sops referring to the small, separate clouds clinging to the sides of a mountain. Carr, ii. 147.
Tomorrow never comes,When two Sundays happen at the same time.This is sometimes addressed to one who promises something "to-morrow," but who is often in the habit of making similar engagements, and not remembering them.
This is sometimes directed at someone who promises to do something "tomorrow," but often tends to make similar commitments and forgets about them.
TIT FOR TAT.
The proverb of tit for tat may perhaps be said to be going out of fashion, but it is still a universal favorite with children. When any one is ill-natured, and the sufferer wishes to hint his intention of retaliating at the first convenient opportunity, he cries out—
The saying tit for tat might be considered outdated, but it’s still a popular choice among kids. When someone is being rude, and the person affected wants to hint at getting back at them when the chance comes, they shout—
An eye for an eye,If you take out my dog,I'll take out your cat.LAZY LAWRENCE.
Lazy Lawrence, just let me go,Don't keep me stuck in summer and winter both.This distich is said by a boy who feels very lazy, yet wishes to exert himself. Lazy Lawrence is a proverbial expression for an idle person, and I possess an old chapbook, entitled "the History of Lawrence Lazy, containing his birth and slothful breeding; how he served the schoolmaster, his wife, the squire's cook, and the farmer, which, by the laws of Lubberland, was accounted high treason." A West country proverb, relating to a disciple of this hero, runs thus:
This couplet is spoken by a boy who feels really lazy but still wants to put in some effort. "Lazy Lawrence" is a common saying for someone who is idle, and I have an old chapbook titled "The History of Lawrence Lazy," which tells the story of his birth and lazy upbringing; how he dealt with the schoolmaster, his wife, the squire's cook, and the farmer, which, according to the laws of Lubberland, was considered high treason. A proverb from the West Country about a follower of this character goes like this:
Sleepy look,Reluctant to go to bed,And reluctant to get up.March will search, April will test,May will reveal whether you'll live or die.Plant in the mud,It'll feel heavy on top.That is, land in a soppy or wet state is in a favorable condition for receiving seed; a statement, however, somewhat questionable.
That is, land that is damp or wet is in a good condition for planting seeds; this claim, however, is somewhat questionable.
A cat can gaze at a king,And I can definitely look at something unattractive.Said in derision by one child to another, who complains of being stared at.
Said mockingly by one kid to another, who complains about being gawked at.
The one who has it but won’t hold on to it,The one who needs it but won’t look for it;The one who drinks but isn’t thirsty,Will need money just like I do.From Howell's English Proverbs, 1659, p. 21.
From Howell's English Proverbs, 1659, p. 21.
Gray's Inn for strolls,Lincoln's Inn for a wall;The Inner Temple for a garden,And the Middle for a hall.A proverb, no doubt, true in former times, but now only partially correct.
A proverb that was definitely true back then, but is now only somewhat accurate.
When things are good, friends are everywhere,But in tough times, barely one in twenty will be there.From Howell's English Proverbs, p. 20. The expression not one amongst twenty is a generic one for not one out of a large number. It occurs in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, v. 2.
From Howell's English Proverbs, p. 20. The phrase not one amongst twenty is a general way of saying not a single one out of many. It appears in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, v. 2.
Trim tram, Like father like son.From an old manuscript political treatise, dated 1652, entitled a Cat may look at a King.
From an old manuscript political treatise, dated 1652, titled A Cat May Look at a King.
Drink beer,It’ll be bad for youA proverbial phrase applied to very small beer, implying that no quantity of it will cause intoxication.
A common saying used to describe very weak beer, suggesting that no amount of it will make you drunk.
Lancashire law, no risk, no reward!A saying by which a person, who has lost a verbal wager, avoids payment on the plea of no stakes having been deposited.
A saying used by someone who has lost a verbal bet to avoid paying by claiming that no stakes were put down.
We’re as foolish as monkeys until we hit twenty and beyond,As daring as lions until we reach forty-four;As sly as foxes until we’re seventy,Then we turn into fools, and are no longer men.These proverbial lines were obtained from Lancashire. An early version occurs in Tusser, p. 199.
These well-known lines came from Lancashire. An earlier version can be found in Tusser, p. 199.
Those who wash on MondayHave a whole week to dry;Those who wash on TuesdayDon’t have as much time;Those who wash on WednesdayMight get their clothes clean;Those who wash on ThursdayAre not as likely to be meaning;Those who wash on FridayWash out of necessity;But those who wash on SaturdayAre definitely in a mess!A North country version of these common proverbial lines, given by Mr. Denham, p. 16. Clarty-paps are dirty sluts.
A northern version of these well-known sayings, provided by Mr. Denham, p. 16. Clarty-paps are filthy women.
The kids in Hollandenjoy creatingwhat the kids in Englandenjoy destroying.Alluding to toys, a great number of which are imported into this country from Holland.
Alluding to toys, many of which are imported into this country from Holland.
VIII.—PLACES AND FAMILIES.
- ELTON.
- NOEL.
- COLLINGWOOD.
- THE CAULD LAD OF HILTON.
- FELTON.
- SIR RALPH ASHTON.
- PRESTON.
- LANCASHIRE.
- LEYLAND.
- HUGH OF LINCOLN.
- CUCKSTONE.
- SAINT LEVAN.
- ROLLRIGHT.
- HAMPDEN.
- RIBCHESTER.
- HAWLEY.
- GOTHAM.
- BUCKLAND.
- COLEBROOK.
- GILLING.
- SHREWSBURY.
- JACK ROBINSON.
- WRANGHAM.
- LEICESTERSHIRE.
- BROCKLEY-HILL.
- STANTON DREW.
- SEVERN.
- SHERSTON MAGNA.
- NORTH ACRE.
- BELLASIS.
- KELLOE.
- ROSEBERRY-TOPPING.
- LINCOLN.
- SKIDDAW.
- INGLEBOROUGH.
- THE KIRBY FEIGHT.
- THORNTON.
- ISLE OF MAN.
- EARSDON.
This division, like the last, might be greatly extended by references to Ray and Grose.
This division, like the previous one, could be expanded significantly by referencing Ray and Grose.
ELTON.
The following lines are still remembered by the members of the Elton family:
The following lines are still remembered by the members of the Elton family:
When Sir Abraham Elt was knighted and tookthe name of Elton.In olden times, Abraham Elt,While alive, had neither sword nor belt;But now his son, Sir Abraham Elton,Is knighted and wears both sword and belt.MS. Harl. Brit. Mus. 7318, p. 206.NOEL.
N. stands for a word of denial,E. has a value of L. fifty,Spells his name that will neverBe thrifty.MS. Sloane 2497, from the sixteenth century.COLLINGWOOD.
The Collingwoods have carried the name,Ever since the deer was caught in the bush;But when the bush has the deer again,Then hello to faith, and goodbye to luck.Alluding to the Collingwood crest of a stag beneath an oak tree.
Alluding to the Collingwood emblem of a deer under an oak tree.
THE CAULD LAD OF HILTON.
This fairy or goblin was seldom seen, but his gambols were heard nightly in the hall of the great house. He overturned everything in the kitchen after the servants had gone to bed, and was, in short, one of the most mischievous sprites you could imagine. One night, however, the kitchen happened to be left in great confusion, and the goblin, who did everything by contraries, set it completely to rights; and the next morning it was in perfect apple-pie order. We may be quite sure that, after this occurrence, the kitchen was not again made orderly by the servants.
This fairy or goblin was rarely seen, but his antics were heard every night in the grand house. He messed up everything in the kitchen after the servants went to bed and was, in short, one of the most mischievous little spirits you could imagine. One night, though, the kitchen happened to be left in a huge mess, and the goblin, who always did the opposite of what you’d expect, tidied it up perfectly; by morning, it was in tip-top shape. We can be pretty sure that after this incident, the kitchen was never tidied up by the servants again.
Notwithstanding, however, the service thus nightly rendered by the Cauld Lad, the servants did not like it. They preferred to do their own work without preternatural agency, and accordingly resolved to do their best to drive him from their haunts. The goblin soon understood what was going on, and he was heard in the dead of night to warble the following lines in a melancholy strain:
Notwithstanding, however, the service thus nightly rendered by the Cauld Lad, the servants did not like it. They preferred to do their own work without supernatural help, and so they decided to do their best to drive him from their spaces. The goblin soon figured out what was happening, and he was heard in the dead of night to sing the following lines in a sad tune:
Oh, woe is me! Oh, woe is me!The acorn hasn’tFallen from the tree,That will grow into wood,That will make the cradle,That will rock the baby,That will grow into a man,That will lay me to rest.He was, however, deceived in this prediction; for one night, being colder than usual, he complained in moving verse of his condition. Accordingly, on the following evening, a cloak and hood were placed for him near the fire. The servants had unconsciously accomplished their deliverance, for present gifts to fairies, and they for ever disappear. On the next morning the following lines were found inscribed on the wall:
He was, however, mistaken in this prediction; for one night, feeling colder than usual, he expressed his discomfort in a moving poem. So, the next evening, a cloak and hood were set out for him by the fire. The servants had unknowingly completed their escape, as gifts to fairies cause them to vanish forever. The next morning, the following lines were found written on the wall:
I’ve taken your cloak, I’ve taken your hood;The Cauld Lad of Hilton won’t do any more good!A great variety of stories in which fairies are frightened away by presents, are still to be heard in the rural districts of England. Another narrative, by Mr. Longstaffe, relates that on one occasion a woman found her washing and ironing regularly performed for her every night by the fairies. In gratitude to the "good people," she placed green mantles for their acceptance, and the next night the fairies departed, exclaiming—
A wide range of stories about how fairies are scared off by gifts can still be heard in the countryside of England. Another story, by Mr. Longstaffe, tells of a woman who discovered that her laundry was being washed and ironed for her by fairies every night. To thank the "good people," she left out green cloaks for them, and the next night the fairies left, saying—
Now the pixies have finished their work!We grab our clothes and dash off.Mrs. Bray tells a similar story of a Devonshire pixy, who helped an old woman to spin. One evening she spied the fairy jumping out of her door, and observed that it was very raggedly dressed; so the next day she thought to win the services of the elf further by placing some smart new clothes, as big as those made for a doll, by the side of her wheel. The pixy came, put on the clothes, and clapping its hands with delight, vanished, saying these lines:
Mrs. Bray shares a similar tale about a Devonshire pixy that assisted an old woman with her spinning. One evening, she saw the fairy jumping out of her door and noticed it was dressed in very shabby clothes. So, the next day, she decided to win the pixy's favor by leaving some nice new clothes, about the size of those made for a doll, next to her spinning wheel. The pixy showed up, put on the clothes, and clapped its hands with joy before disappearing, saying these lines:
Pixy is fine, Pixy is happy,Pixy is about to run away.Fairies always talk in rhyme. Mr. Allies mentions a Worcestershire fairy legend which says that, upon one occasion, a pixy came to a ploughman in a field, and exclaimed:
Fairies always speak in rhyme. Mr. Allies references a Worcestershire fairy legend that tells of a time when a pixy approached a farmer in a field and said:
Oh, can I borrow a hammer and a nail,So we can fix our bucket?FELTON.
The small priest of Felton,The small priest of Felton,He killed a mouse in his home,And no one came to help him.SIR RALPH ASHTON.
Sweet Jesus, for the sake of your mercy,And for your painful suffering,Save us from the axe of the Tower,And from Sir Ralph of Ashton.This rhyme is traditionally known in the North of England, and refers, it is said, to Sir Ralph Ashton, who, in the latter part of the fifteenth century, exercised great severity as vice-constable. The ancient custom of riding the black lad at Ashton-under-Lyne on Easter Monday, which consists of carrying an effigy on horseback through the town, shooting at it, and finally burning it, is alleged to have taken its origin from this individual, who, according to tradition, was shot as he was riding down the principal street. According to another story, the custom commemorates the valiant actions of Thomas Ashton at the battle of Neville's Cross.
This rhyme is traditionally known in the North of England and refers, it is said, to Sir Ralph Ashton, who, in the late 15th century, was very strict as vice-constable. The old tradition of riding the black lad at Ashton-under-Lyne on Easter Monday involves carrying an effigy on horseback through the town, shooting at it, and ultimately burning it. It's said to have originated with this individual, who, according to tradition, was shot while riding down the main street. Another version of the story claims that the custom honors the brave actions of Thomas Ashton at the battle of Neville's Cross.
PRESTON.
Proud Preston, struggling folks,Beautiful church, but no steeple.LANCASHIRE.
Hey little guy, where were you born?Way out in Lancashire, beneath a thorn,Where they drink sour milk from a ram's horn.LEYLAND.
A village in Lancashire, not far from Chorley. There is, or was sixty years since, a tradition current here, to the effect that the church, on the night following the day in which the building was completed, was removed some distance by supernatural agency, and the astonished inhabitants, on entering the sacred edifice the following morning, found the following metrical command written on a marble tablet on the wall:
A village in Lancashire, not far from Chorley. There is, or was sixty years ago, a tradition here that says the church, on the night after its completion, was moved some distance by a supernatural force, and the amazed locals, when they entered the sacred building the next morning, found this metrical command written on a marble tablet on the wall:
Here you will be,And here you will stand,And you will be calledThe church of Ley-land.Leyland church stands on an eminence at the east side of the village. The ancient tower is still standing, but the body of the church is modern.
Leyland church is located on a hill at the east side of the village. The old tower is still there, but the main part of the church is modern.
HUGH OF LINCOLN.
He threw the ball so high, so high,He threw the ball so low;He threw the ball in the Jewish garden,And the Jewish people were all below.Oh, then out came the Jewish daughter,She was dressed all in green;Come here, come here, my sweet pretty boy,And get your ball again.These lines refer to the well-known story of the murder of a child at Lincoln by a Jewess. The child was playing at ball, and threw it into the Jew's garden. She enticed him into the house to recover it, killed him, and, to conceal her guilt, threw the body into a deep well. According to the ballads on the subject, the spirit of the boy answers his mother's inquiry from the bottom of the well, the bells ring without human aid, and several miracles are accomplished. The above fragment of some old ballad on the subject was given me by Miss Agnes Strickland as current in the country nursery.
These lines refer to the well-known story of the murder of a child in Lincoln by a Jewish woman. The child was playing with a ball and accidentally threw it into her garden. She lured him into her house to get it back, killed him, and to cover up her crime, threw his body into a deep well. According to the ballads about this tale, the boy's spirit responds to his mother's questions from the bottom of the well, the bells ring without anyone touching them, and several miracles happen. The above excerpt from an old ballad on the subject was given to me by Miss Agnes Strickland, who said it was common in country nurseries.
CUCKSTONE.
If you want to go to a church that isn't right,You should head over to Cuckstone in Kent.So said because the church is "very unusual in proportion." Lelandi Itin. ed. 1744, ii. 137.
So said because the church is "quite unusual in proportion." Lelandi Itin. ed. 1744, ii. 137.
SAINT LEVAN.
When a pack-horse carries bagsIt can travel through St. Levan's stone,Then the world will come to an end.St. Levan's stone is a great rock in the churchyard of St. Levan, co. Cornwall.
St. Levan's stone is a large rock in the churchyard of St. Levan, Cornwall.
ROLLRIGHT.
The "Druidical" stones at Rollright, Oxfordshire, are said to have been originally a general and his army who were transformed into stones by a magician. The tradition runs that there was a prophecy or oracle which told the general,—
The "Druidical" stones at Rollright, Oxfordshire, are said to have once been a general and his army who were turned into stones by a wizard. The story goes that there was a prophecy or oracle that told the general,—
If you can see Long Compton,You shall be King of England.He was within a few yards of the spot whence that town could be observed, when his progress was stopped by the magician's transformation,—
He was just a few yards away from the point where he could see that town when his progress was halted by the magician's transformation,—
Lower yourself, man, and harden like stone!You will not be the King of England.The general was transformed into a large stone which stands on a spot from which Long Compton is not visible, but on ascending a slight rise close to it, the town is revealed to view. Roger Gale, writing in 1719, says that whoever dared to contradict this story was regarded "as a most audacious freethinker." It is said that no man could ever count these stones, and that a baker once attempted it by placing a penny loaf on each of them, but somehow or other he failed in counting his own bread. A similar tale is related of Stonehenge.
The general was turned into a large stone that stands in a place where Long Compton isn't visible, but if you walk up a slight rise nearby, the town comes into view. Roger Gale, writing in 1719, mentioned that anyone who dared to challenge this story was seen "as a very bold freethinker." It's said that no one could ever count these stones, and a baker once tried by placing a penny loaf on each one, but somehow he lost track of his own bread. A similar story is told about Stonehenge.
HAMPDEN.
The following relation is given in the additions to Camden's Britannia, co. Bucks, p. 318. Tradition says the Black Prince, who held Hartwell, had large possessions at Prince's Risborough, where they show part of a wall of his palace, and a field where his horses were turned called Prince's Field, and repeat these lines on a supposed quarrel between him and one of the family of Hampden:
The following information is found in the additions to Camden's Britannia, co. Bucks, p. 318. According to tradition, the Black Prince, who owned Hartwell, had significant land at Prince's Risborough, where they show part of a wall from his palace and a field called Prince's Field, where his horses were kept. They also recount these lines about a supposed dispute between him and a member of the Hampden family:
Hamden of Hamden did give upThe estates of Tring, Wing, and Ivinghoe,For hitting the Black Prince.RIBCHESTER.
It is written on a wall in RomeRibchester was as wealthy as any town in Christendom.Camden says that Ribchester was famous for its remains of ancient art.
Camden says that Ribchester was known for its remnants of ancient art.
HAWLEY.
Blow the wind high, blow the wind low,It brings good fortune to Hawley's hoe.These lines are said to relate to one John Hawley, a wealthy merchant of Devon some centuries ago, who was fortunate in his shipping. According to Prince, p. 477, "so was the gentleman's habitation in that town (Dartmouth) call'd the Hoe or Haw."
These lines are said to refer to John Hawley, a wealthy merchant from Devon centuries ago, who was successful in his shipping ventures. According to Prince, p. 477, "the gentleman's home in that town (Dartmouth) was called the Hoe or Haw."
GOTHAM.
Three wise men from GothamSet out to sea in a bowl;And if the bowl had been sturdier,My song would have been lengthier.Honour to whom honour is due! Mr. Lower will have it that Sussex is the county of the Gothamites. Gotham is near Pevensey, and many traditionary anecdotes are still current respecting the stupidity of the people of that town. On one occasion, the mayor, having received a letter, was reading it upside down, the messenger very respectfully suggested that he would sooner arrive at the meaning of its contents by reversing its position. "Hold your tongue, sir," replied the chief magistrate; "for while I am mayor of Pemsey, I'll hold the letter which eend uppards I like!"
Honor to whom honor is due! Mr. Lower believes that Sussex is the county of the Gothamites. Gotham is near Pevensey, and many traditional stories are still around about the foolishness of the people from that town. One time, the mayor, after getting a letter, was reading it upside down. The messenger politely suggested that he would understand its meaning better if he turned it right side up. "Be quiet, sir," replied the mayor; "because while I’m mayor of Pevensey, I’ll hold the letter however I want!"
BUCKLAND.
Buckland and Laverton, Stanway and Staunton, Childswickham, Wickamford, Badsey and Aston.These are places in Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, and Somersetshire. Staunton is pronounced Stawn, and Aston is commonly called Awn.
These are places in Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, and Somerset. Staunton is pronounced Stawn, and Aston is often called Awn.
COLEBROOK.
There were three cooks from Colebrook,And they had a falling out with our cook;And it was all over a pudding he tookFrom the three cooks of Colebrook.GILLING.
Tradition informs us, but leaves us in ignorance as to the nature of the offence offered, that once upon a time, a long time ago, his satanic majesty took dire displeasure at the good folks of Hartforth, for some naughty trick, no doubt played upon him, during one of his visits to that locality; so finding a stone of enormous bulk and weight to the south of Gilling, his majesty, in his rage, raised the ponderous mass in one hand, and uttering this exclamatory couplet,—
Tradition teaches us, but keeps us in the dark about the nature of the offense. A long time ago, his satanic majesty became quite angry with the good people of Hartforth for some mischievous prank they must have pulled on him during one of his visits to the area. So, in his fury, he found a massive stone to the south of Gilling and, raising the heavy rock with one hand, shouted this exclamatory couplet,—
Bring it on, Black Hartforth,But watch out for Bonny Gilling!cast it from him with all his strength. It would appear that the devil's vision is rather of a telescopic character; for, as luck would have it, he missed his aim, and the stone, which flew whizzing through the air, at last fell harmless far beyond the former place; and now lies, bearing the impression of his unholy fingers, on the rising ground to the north side of Gatherly Moor. [45]
cast it from him with all his strength. It seems the devil has a kind of telescopic vision; as luck would have it, he missed his target, and the stone, which zoomed through the air, eventually fell harmlessly far beyond its original spot; it now rests, marked by his unholy fingers, on the rising ground to the north side of Gatherly Moor. [45]
[45] Communicated by Mr. M. A. Denham. SHREWSBURY.
The inhabitants of Shropshire, and, it is said, especially Shrewsbury, have an unfortunate habit of misplacing the letter h. It is scarcely necessary to say that the failing is by no means peculiar to that county. I am unable to vouch for the antiquity of the following lines on the subject, but they have become proverbial, and are therefore worth giving:
The people of Shropshire, particularly in Shrewsbury, have a frustrating tendency to drop the letter h. It’s hardly necessary to mention that this mistake isn’t unique to that area. I can’t confirm how old the following lines about this issue are, but they’ve become well-known and are worth sharing:
The petition of the letter H to the inhabitants of Shrewsbury, greeting,—
The letter H to the people of Shrewsbury, hello,—
I have been forced by you,Out of my house, my home, my hope, my heaven,And placed in your highly educated companyIn exile, pain, and worry,And treated, without any fair reason,With arrogance and disrespect;I now demand complete restoration,And kindly ask you to improve your speech.To this was returned the following answer from the Shrewsburians:
The Shrewsburians responded:
While we’ve saved you, Ungrateful,From handcuffs, fear, and from hatred,From hell, from muddy waters, and from restraints,And dedicated you at the altar;And put you where you should never have been,In honor and integrity;We consider your prayer a rude interruption,And will not change our way of speaking.JACK ROBINSON.
There are few proverbial expressions more common than the saying, "As soon as you can say Jack Robinson," implying excessive rapidity. I have seen the phrase with the name of Dick Robinson, but failed to take a memorandum of it. It has since occurred to me that it may have originated in some way or other with the actor of that name mentioned by Ben Jonson. If, however, the following quotation from an "old play," given by Carr, be genuine, this conjecture must fall to the ground:
There are few sayings more familiar than the phrase, "As soon as you can say Jack Robinson," which means very quickly. I've come across the phrase with the name Dick Robinson, but I didn't write it down. I've since thought that it might have come from the actor of that name mentioned by Ben Jonson. However, if the following quote from an "old play" presented by Carr is authentic, this idea must be dismissed:
It's as easy to do the workas it is to say, "Jack! Rob's on."WRANGHAM.
Swing them, swing them, bells at Wrangham,Three dogs in a line, hang them, hang them.A hit at the Cheshire provincial pronunciation of the ng.
A joke about the way people in Cheshire pronounce the ng sound.
LEICESTERSHIRE.
Higham up on the hill,Stoke down in the valley;Wykin for buttermilk,Hinckley for beer.BROCKLEY-HILL.
No heart can understand, nor tongue can explain,What exists between Brockley Hill and Penny Well.Brockley-hill lies near Elstree, in Hertfordshire, and Penny-well is the name of a parcel of closes in the neighbourhood. See Stukeley's Itin. Cur. 1776, i. 118. This distich alludes to the quantity of old coins found near those places.
Brockley Hill is located near Elstree in Hertfordshire, and Pennywell is the name of a group of fields in the area. See Stukeley's Itin. Cur. 1776, i. 118. This couplet refers to the number of old coins discovered near those sites.
STANTON DREW.
Stanton Drew,One mile from Pensford,Another mile from Chew.A Somersetshire proverb, mentioned by Stukeley, in the work above quoted, ii. 169.
A Somersetshire proverb, mentioned by Stukeley in the work referenced above, ii. 169.
SEVERN.
Blessed is the eye,That lies between Severn and Wye.Ray gives this proverb, but appears to misunderstand it, the first line not alluding to the prospect, but to an islet or ait in the river, though I have not met with the word eye used in this sense. There can, however, be no doubt as to its meaning; probably from A.-S. eá.
Ray shares this proverb but seems to misinterpret it; the first line doesn't refer to the future but to a small island or ait in the river, although I haven't come across the word eye used in that way. Nevertheless, its meaning is clear; likely derived from A.-S. eá.
SHERSTON MAGNA.
The following very curious observations on this town are extracted from an anonymous MS. in my possession, written forty or fifty years ago. I have never seen the lines in print. Aubrey, in his Natural History of Wiltshire, mentions the plant called Danes-blood, and derives the name from a similar circumstance. Some observations on Sherston may be seen in Camden, ed. Gough, i. 96. It is Sceor-stán, where the celebrated battle between the Anglo-Saxons and the Danes was fought in the year 1016, and prodigies of valour exhibited by the combatants.
The following intriguing observations about this town are taken from an anonymous manuscript I have, written about forty or fifty years ago. I’ve never seen these lines in print. Aubrey mentions the plant called Danes-blood in his Natural History of Wiltshire and says the name comes from a similar situation. Some notes on Sherston can be found in Camden, ed. Gough, i. 96. It is Sceor-stán, the site of the famous battle between the Anglo-Saxons and the Danes that took place in 1016, where acts of valor were displayed by the fighters.
"When a schoolboy, I have often traced the intrenchments at Sherston Magna, which are still visible on the north side of the town, and particularly in a field near the brow of a hill which overlooks a branch of the river Avon, which rises a little below Didmarton; and with other boys have gone in quest of a certain plant in the field where the battle was said to have been fought, which the inhabitants pretended dropt blood when gathered, and called Danesblood, corruptly no doubt for Danewort, which was supposed to have sprung from the blood of the Danes slain in that battle. Among other memorials, the statue of a brave warrior, vulgarly called Rattlebone, but whose real name I could never learn, is still standing upon a pedestal on the east side of the church-porch, as I've been lately informed, where I saw it above fifty years ago: of whose bravery, almost equal to that of Withrington, many fabulous stories are told. One, in particular, like some of the Grecian fables of old, built upon the resemblance his shield bears to the shape of a tile-stone, which he is said to have placed over his stomach after it had been ripped up in battle, and by that means maintained the field; whilst the following rude verses are said to have been repeated by the king by way of encouragement:
"When I was a schoolboy, I often explored the trenches at Sherston Magna, which are still visible on the north side of the town, especially in a field near the top of a hill overlooking a branch of the river Avon that flows just below Didmarton. Along with other boys, I searched for a certain plant in the field where the battle was believed to have taken place, which the locals claimed bled when picked and called Danesblood, likely a corruption of Danewort, thought to have grown from the blood of the Danes who were killed in that battle. Among other memorials, there stands a statue of a brave warrior, commonly referred to as Rattlebone, though I could never find out his real name, still perched on a pedestal on the east side of the church porch, as I’ve recently been told, where I saw it over fifty years ago. Many legendary tales of his bravery, almost equal to that of Withrington, are told. One story, in particular, resembles some of the ancient Grecian fables; it revolves around the way his shield looked like a roof tile, which he supposedly placed over his abdomen after it was cut open in battle, allowing him to continue fighting. It is said that the following crude verses were recited by the king as encouragement:"
Keep fighting, Rattlebone,And you’ll get Sherstone;If Sherstone doesn't work,Then Easton Grey and Pinkney as well."NORTH ACRE.
Lord DacreWas killed in North Acre.North Acre is or was the name of the spot where Lord Dacre perished at the battle of Towton in 1461. He is said to have been shot by a boy out of an elder tree.
North Acre is the name of the place where Lord Dacre died in the battle of Towton in 1461. It's said that he was shot by a boy from an elder tree.
BELLASIS.
[Communicated by Mr. Longstaffe.]
[Communicated by Mr. Longstaffe.]
Johnny, that was your crazy idea,When you swapped Bellas for Henknoll.This saying, as given by Surtees, is still remembered near Bellasis, and is preferable to Hutchinson's version of it from the east window of the north transept of St. Andrew's Auckland church, where he says, "are remains of an inscription painted on the glass; the date appears 1386; beneath the inscription are the arms of Bellasys, and in a belt round them the following words:
This saying, as noted by Surtees, is still remembered near Bellasis and is preferred over Hutchinson's version from the east window of the north transept of St. Andrew's Auckland church, where he mentions, "there are remains of an inscription painted on the glass; the date is 1386; beneath the inscription are the arms of Bellasys, and in a belt around them are the following words:
Bellysys Belysys was your soul,When you traded Belysys for Henknowell."Collins (followed by Hutchinson), who gives the proverb as—
Collins (followed by Hutchinson), who presents the proverb as—
Belasise, Belassis, foolish was your head,When you gave Bellassis for Henknowle,connects it with a grant dated 1380, from John de Belasye to the convent of Durham, of his lands in Wolveston, in exchange for the Manor of Henknoll. But Bellasyse is not even within the Manor of Wolveston, and, in fact, the Manor of Bellasye was held by the Prior in 1361; and we can only account for the proverb by supposing that, at a former period, Bellasyse had been exchanged for lands, but not the manor of Henknoll. The legend dates the matter in crusading times, and is chivalric in the extreme. John of Bellasis minded to take up the cross, and fight in Holy Land, found his piety sorely let and hindered by his attachment to the green pastures and deep meadows of his ancestors. With resolution strong, he exchanged them with the Church of Durham, for Henknoll, near Auckland. He went to fight, but lived it seems to return and repent his rash bargain. I descend by one step, from the sublime to the ridiculous, to mention how oddly more recent characters are wound round those of olden time, for a popular notion is that the Red-Cross Knight had enormous teeth, and was passionately addicted to "race-horses!" Children, moreover, have a dark saying when they leap off anything:
connects it with a grant dated 1380, from John de Belasye to the convent of Durham, of his lands in Wolveston, in exchange for the Manor of Henknoll. But Bellasyse isn't even within the Manor of Wolveston, and, actually, the Manor of Bellasye was held by the Prior in 1361; and we can only make sense of the proverb by assuming that, at some earlier time, Bellasyse had been traded for lands, but not the manor of Henknoll. The legend places the story in the time of the Crusades and is highly chivalric. John of Bellasis, intending to take up the cross and fight in the Holy Land, found his devotion seriously challenged by his attachment to the lush pastures and rich meadows of his ancestors. With strong determination, he traded them with the Church of Durham for Henknoll, near Auckland. He went to fight, but apparently lived to return and regret his hasty deal. I take a step down from the sublime to the ridiculous to mention how strangely more recent figures are entwined with those from the past, as there's a popular belief that the Red-Cross Knight had enormous teeth and was passionately fond of "racehorses!" Additionally, children have a dark saying when they jump off anything:
Bellasay, Bellasay, what time is it?One o'clock, two o'clock, three and we're off!Miss Bellasyse, the heiress of Brancepeth, died for love of Robert Shafto, of Whitworth, whose portrait at Whitworth represents him as very young and handsome, with yellow hair. He was the favorite candidate in the election of 1791, when he was popularly called Bonny Bobby Shafto; and the old song of the older Bobby, who, it seems, was also "bright and fair, combing down his yellow hair," was revived with the addition of—
Miss Bellasyse, the heiress of Brancepeth, died for love of Robert Shafto from Whitworth, whose portrait at Whitworth shows him as very young and handsome, with yellow hair. He was the preferred candidate in the election of 1791, where he was popularly known as Bonny Bobby Shafto; and the old song about the earlier Bobby, who apparently was also "bright and fair, combing down his yellow hair," was brought back with the addition of—
Bobby Shafto's looking around,All his ribbons are fluttering about,All the ladies are cheering—Hey, it's Bobby Shafto!The most ancient verses of the old song seem to be—
The oldest lines of the old song seem to be—
Bobby Shafto's gone to sea,With silver buckles on his knees;He'll return and marry me,Handsome Bobby Shafto.Bobby Shafto's bright and fair,Combing down his golden hair;He's mine forevermore,Handsome Bobby Shafto.An apocryphal verse says,—
A famous quote says,—
Bobby Shafto's having a baby,To dangle on his arm—On his arm and on his knee;Bobby Shafto loves me.KELLOE.
John Lively, the Vicar of Kelloe,Had seven daughters and not a single son.An equivocal rhyme of the bishopric, which may either mean that the parson of the sixteenth century had no son, or that he had no equal in learning, &c. He certainly, however, mentions no son in his will, in which he leaves to his daughter Elizabeth, his best gold ring with a death's head in it (Compare Love's Labour Lost, v. 2), and seventeen yards of white cloth for curtains of a bed, and to his daughter Mary his silver seal of arms, his gimald ring, and black gold ring. Another version of the proverb reads "six daughters," and indeed seven is often merely a conventional number.
An unclear rhyme about the bishopric, which might mean that the parson from the sixteenth century had no son, or that he was unmatched in knowledge, etc. He definitely doesn’t mention any son in his will, where he leaves his best gold ring with a death's head on it (Refer to Love's Labour Lost, v. 2), and seventeen yards of white cloth for bed curtains, to his daughter Elizabeth, and to his daughter Mary, his silver seal of arms, his gimald ring, and a black gold ring. Another version of the proverb states "six daughters," and in fact, seven is often just a traditional number.
ROSEBERRY-TOPPING.
"Not far from Gisborough is Ounsberry-hill, or Roseberry-topping, which mounts aloft and makes a great shew at a distance, serving unto sailors for a mark of direction, and to the neighbour inhabitants for a prognostication; for as often as the head of it hath its cloudy cap on, there commonly follows rain, whereupon they have a proverbial rhyme,
"Not far from Guisborough is Ounsberry Hill, or Roseberry Topping, which rises high and looks impressive from a distance, serving as a landmark for sailors and a sign for local residents; for whenever its peak is covered with clouds, rain usually follows, which is reflected in their saying,"
When Roseberry Topping is covered with a cap,Then Cleveland should watch out for a storm.Near to the top of it, out of a huge rock, there flows a spring of water, medicinable for diseased eyes; and from thence there is a most delightful prospect upon the valleys below to the hills above."—Brome's Travels, 8vo. Lond. 1700.
Near the top of it, a spring of water flows out of a huge rock, which is healing for sick eyes; and from there, there's a stunning view of the valleys below and the hills above."—Brome's Travels, 8vo. Lond. 1700.
LINCOLN.
"As for the town, though it flourished mightily for some years together after the Norman Conquest, by reason of a staple for wooll and other commodities, setled here by King Edward the Third; yet it met still with some calamities or other, which hindred its growth and eclipsed its grandeur, for it had its share of sufferings, both by fire and water, in King Stephen's days, about which time, it seems, though the king had at first been conquered and taken prisoner, yet he afterward entred into the city in triumph, with his crown upon his head, to break the citizens of a superstitious opinion they held, that no king could possibly enter into that city after such a manner, but some great disaster or other would befal him; but neither did it then, or by the barons' wars afterwards, sustain half the damages which of late years it hath received from the devouring hands of time, who hath wrought its downfal, and from a rich and populous city hath reduced it almost to the lowest ebb of fortune; and of fifty churches, which were all standing within one or two centuries, hath scarce left fifteen; so that the old proverbial rhymes (which go current amongst them) seem so far to have something of verity in them:
"As for the town, although it thrived for a number of years after the Norman Conquest, thanks to a wool and commodity trade established here by King Edward III, it still faced various disasters that hindered its growth and overshadowed its splendor. It experienced suffering from both fire and flood during King Stephen's reign. Around that time, even though the king had been initially defeated and captured, he eventually entered the city triumphantly, wearing his crown, to dispel the citizens' superstitious belief that no king could enter the city in that way without facing some great misfortune. However, neither that event nor the subsequent barons’ wars caused the town as much damage as it has endured in recent years at the hands of time, which has led to its decline, transforming it from a wealthy and bustling city into one nearly at the lowest point of fortune. Out of the fifty churches that once stood here just one or two centuries ago, barely fifteen remain. Thus, the old proverbial rhymes that circulate among the townspeople seem to have some truth to them:"
Lincoln was, and London is,And York will beThe most beautiful city of the three."—Ibid.SKIDDAW.
"After we had passed these borders we arrived again safe in our own native soil, within the precincts of Cumberland, which, like the rest of the northern counties, hath a sharp piercing air; the soil is fertile for the most part both with corn and cattle, and in some parts hereof with fish and fowl; here are likewise several minerals, which of late have been discovered; not only mines of copper, but some veins of gold and silver, as we were informed, have been found; and of all the shires we have, it is accounted the best furnished with the Roman antiquities. Nor is it less renowned for its exceeding high mountains; for, beside the mountain called Wrye-nose, on the top of which, near the highway side, are to be seen three shire-stones within a foot of each other, one in this county, another in Westmoreland, and a third in Lancashire. There are three other hills, Skiddaw, Lanvalin, and Casticand, very remarkable. Skiddaw riseth up with two mighty high heads, like Parnassus, and beholds Scruffel Hill, which is in Annandale, in Scotland; and accordingly as mists arise or fall upon these heads, the people thereby prognosticate of the change of weather, singing this rhime:
"After we crossed these borders, we arrived safely back on our own land, in Cumberland, which, like the other northern counties, has a sharp, piercing air; the soil is mostly fertile for both crops and livestock, and in some areas, for fish and game. There are also several minerals that have recently been discovered; not only copper mines but also some veins of gold and silver, as we were told. Of all the counties we have, it is considered the best equipped with Roman antiquities. It's also well-known for its extremely high mountains; besides the mountain called Wrye-nose, on top of which, near the roadside, you can see three boundary stones standing close together—one in this county, another in Westmoreland, and a third in Lancashire. There are three other notable hills: Skiddaw, Lanvalin, and Casticand. Skiddaw rises with two very high peaks, like Parnassus, and looks over at Scruffel Hill, which is in Annandale, Scotland; and depending on whether mists rise or fall on these peaks, people predict the weather, singing this rhyme:"
If Skiddaw has a cap,Scruffel is full of that.And there goes also this usual by-word concerning the height, as well of this hill as of the other two:
And there goes the usual saying about the height of this hill and the other two:
Skiddaw, Lanvellin, and Casticand,Are the tallest hills in all of England."—Ibid.INGLEBOROUGH.
"Here are three great hills, not far distant asunder, seeming to be as high as the clouds, which are Ingleborow, Penigent, and Pendle, on the top of which grows a peculiar plant called cloudsberry, as though it came out of the clouds. This hill formerly did the country much harm, by reason of an extraordinary deal of water gushing out of it, and is now famous for an infallible sign of rain whensoever the top of it is covered with a mist; and by reason of the excessive height for which they are all three celebrated, there is this proverbial rhime goes current amongst them:
"Here are three great hills, not very far apart, rising high into the clouds: Ingleborow, Penigent, and Pendle. On top of these hills grows a unique plant called cloudberry, as if it came straight from the clouds. This hill used to cause a lot of trouble for the area because of the massive amounts of water flowing out of it, and it’s now known as a reliable sign that it’s going to rain whenever the top is covered in mist. Because of their impressive height, there’s a common saying about all three:"
Ingleborow, Pendle, and Penigent,Are the tallest hills between Scotland and the River Trent."—Ibid.THE KIRBY FEIGHT.
Eighty-eight were fighting Kirby,When not a man was killed;They ate their meat and drank their drinks,And so came merrily home again.After the abdication of James the Second, in the year 1688, a rumour was spread in the North of England that he was lying off the Yorkshire coast, ready to make a descent with a numerous army from France, in hopes of regaining his lost throne. This report gave the Lord Lieutenant of Westmoreland an opportunity of showing his own and the people's attachment to the new order of things; he accordingly called out the posse comitatus, comprising all able-bodied men from sixteen to sixty. The order was obeyed with alacrity; and the inhabitants met armed in a field called Miller's-close, near Kendal, from whence they marched to Kirby Lonsdale. This historical fact explains the above popular rhyme, the meaning of which is, at this day, perhaps not generally understood.—West. and Cumb. Dial. 89.
After James the Second stepped down in 1688, there was a rumor in Northern England that he was off the Yorkshire coast, ready to launch an invasion with a large army from France to try to reclaim his lost throne. This news gave the Lord Lieutenant of Westmoreland a chance to demonstrate his loyalty and that of the people to the new regime. He accordingly called up the posse comitatus, which included all able-bodied men from sixteen to sixty. The order was met with enthusiasm, and the locals gathered armed in a field called Miller's-close, near Kendal, from where they marched to Kirby Lonsdale. This historical fact clarifies the above popular rhyme, the meaning of which might not be widely understood today.—West. and Cumb. Dial. 89.
THORNTON.
Thornton arrived at the WestgateWith a lucky charm, a halfpenny, and a lambskin.A Newcastle distich relating to Roger Thornton, a wealthy merchant, and a great benefactor to that town. A hap is a coarse coverlet of any kind.
A Newcastle distich about Roger Thornton, a wealthy merchant and a major benefactor to the town. A hap is a rough blanket of any kind.
ISLE OF MAN.
All the unborn children will regret the dayThat the Isle of Man was sold;And there’s not a wife who enjoys a drink,Who won't mourn for the Isle of Man.EARSDON.
Hartley and Hallowell, oh you sweet girl,Lovely Seaton-Delaval, oh yes;Earsdon sits on a hill, oh yes,Close to the Billy-mill, oh yes.IX.—SUPERSTITION-RHYMES.
Although the spread of education has doubtlessly weakened in an extraordinary degree the hold which superstition formerly maintained on the mind of the public, yet vestiges of the more innocent portions of superstitious belief are still in considerable repute amongst the lower orders, and may be found in all their force in many of the rural districts. It may be a question how far a complete eradication of these would benefit the cause of religion and morality, treason though it be in these times to doubt the efficacy of argumentative education. But all of us cannot be philosophers; and need we reprove a pretty village maiden for plucking the even-ash or four-leaved clover? The selfish tendencies of the age, in their opposition to every action which partakes of poetry or romantic belief, will effect their mission without the aid of the cynic.
Although the spread of education has clearly weakened the grip that superstition once had on the public mind, traces of some of the more harmless superstitious beliefs are still quite popular among lower classes and can be found in full force in many rural areas. It's debatable whether completely getting rid of these beliefs would actually help religion and morality, even though questioning the effectiveness of reasoned education is controversial these days. But not everyone can be a philosopher; should we scold a lovely village girl for picking an even-ash or a four-leaf clover? The selfish tendencies of our time, in their rejection of anything that involves poetry or romantic belief, will achieve their goal without the help of a cynic.
CHARM-RHYMES.
The subject of rural charms, many of which are lineal descendants from those used by our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, is one of great interest and curiosity; and it were much to be wished that a complete collection of them were formed. The following one is taken from a manuscript of the time of Queen Elizabeth; the others are for the most part still in use.
The topic of rural charms, many of which are direct descendants from those used by our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, is very interesting and intriguing; it would be great if a complete collection of them could be created. The following one is taken from a manuscript from the time of Queen Elizabeth; the others are mostly still in use.
This charm should be recited at night, or against the night, about the place or field, or about animals in the field, and whoever comes in will not go out for sure.On three crosses of a tree,Three dead bodies hung;Two were thieves,The third was Christ,In whom we believe.Dismas and Gesmas;Christ was in the middle;Dismas went to heaven,Gesmas was sent to heaven.Christ who died on the cross,For the love of Mary who stood by him,And through the power of his blood,Jesus, save us and our goods,Inside and outside,And all around this place!And through the power of his might,Let no thief enter here tonightNo foot further in this placeThat I walk upon,But at my command may they be boundTo do all things that I ask them to do!Strong be their sinews with this,And their lives unyielding,And their eyes sightless!Fear and doubtSurround them like a wall made of stone;So may there be a cramp in the toes:Cramp and twisting,And halt in their stepping,The power of the TrinitySave these goods and me,In the name of Jesus, holy blessing,May all our goods be safe,Inside and outside,And all around!Warts.—Whoever will charm away a wart must take a pin and go to an ash-tree. He then crosses the wart with the pin three times, and, after each crossing, repeats:
Warts.—To get rid of a wart, you need to take a pin and go to an ash tree. Then, cross the wart with the pin three times, and after each crossing, say:
Ash tree, ashen tree,Please buy this wart from me!After which he sticks the pin in the tree, and the wart soon disappears, and grows on the tree instead. This must be done secretly. I need scarcely observe that the ash is sacred amongst all the Teutonic and Scandinavian nations.
After that, he sticks the pin in the tree, and the wart quickly disappears, growing on the tree instead. This has to be done secretly. I hardly need to point out that the ash tree is sacred among all the Teutonic and Scandinavian peoples.
Another.—Take a bean-shell, and rub the wart with it; then bring the bean-shell under an ash-tree, and repeat:
Another.—Take a bean pod, and rub the wart with it; then bring the bean pod under an ash tree, and repeat:
As this bean pod decays,My wart will fade away!This also must be done secretly.
This also has to be done secretly.
- The Hiccup.
The Ague.—Said on St. Agnes's eve, sometimes up the chimney, by the oldest female in the family:
The Ague.—Said on St. Agnes's eve, sometimes up the chimney, by the oldest woman in the family:
Shiver and move!On the first day, feel the chill and blaze:Shiver and shake!On the second day, feel the chill and grow:Shiver and fade!On the third day, never come back.Cattle.—Reginald Scot relates that an old woman who cured the diseases of cattle, and who always required a penny and a loaf for her services, used these lines for the purpose:
Cattle.—Reginald Scot mentions that an elderly woman who healed cattle diseases, and who always asked for a penny and a loaf in return for her services, used these lines for that purpose:
I have my bread in my lap,My coin in my wallet;You never gain anything,And I never lose anything.The same writer gives a curious anecdote of a priest who, on one occasion, went out a-nights with his companions, and stole all the eels from a miller's weir. The poor miller made his complaint to the same priest, who desired him to be quiet, for he would so denounce the thief and his confederates by bell, book, and candle, they should have small joy of their fish. Accordingly, on the following Sunday, during the service, he pronounced the following sentences to the congregation:
The same writer shares an interesting story about a priest who, one night, went out with his friends and stole all the eels from a miller's trap. The unfortunate miller reported this to the same priest, who told him to calm down, promising that he would publicly denounce the thief and his accomplices with bell, book, and candle, so they'd get no pleasure from their fish. So, the next Sunday during the service, he addressed the congregation with the following statements:
Everyone who has stolen the miller's eels,Praise the Lord from the heavens;And all those who have agreed to it,Let us bless the Lord."So," says he, "there is sauce for your eels, my masters!"
"So," he says, "there's sauce for your eels, my friends!"
"An old woman came into an house at a time whenas the maid was churning of butter, and having laboured long, and could not make her butter come, the old woman told the maid what was wont to be done when she was a maid, and also in her mother's young time, that if it happened their butter would not come readily, they used a charm to be said over it whilst yet it was in beating, and it would come straightways, and that was this:
"An old woman entered a house while the maid was churning butter. After working for a long time without success, the old woman shared what she used to do when she was a maid, as well as what her mother did when she was young. She said that if their butter wouldn’t come out easily, they would say a charm over it while it was still being beaten, and it would come right away. This was the charm:"
Come on, butter, come,Come on, butter, come;Peter's at the gate,Waiting for a buttered cake;Come on, butter, come!This, said the old woman, being said three times, will make your butter come, for it was taught my mother by a learned churchman in Queen Marie's days; whenas churchmen had more cunning, and could teach people many a trick that our ministers now-a-days know not."—Ady's Candle in the Dark, 1656, p. 59.
"This," said the old woman, "if you say it three times, will make your butter come, because it was taught to my mother by a knowledgeable churchman in Queen Marie's time; back when churchmen had more skills and could teach people many tricks that our ministers today don’t know."—Ady's Candle in the Dark, 1656, p. 59.
"There be twenty several ways," says Scot, 1584, "to make your butter come, which for brevity I omit, as to bind your churn with a rope, to thrust therein a red-hot spit, &c.; but your best remedy and surest way is to look well to your dairy-maid or wife, that she neither eat up the cream, nor sell away your butter."
"There are twenty different ways," says Scot, 1584, "to make your butter churn, which I’ll skip for brevity, like binding your churn with a rope or sticking in a red-hot spit, etc.; but your best and most reliable solution is to keep an eye on your dairy maid or wife, so she doesn’t eat up the cream or sell your butter."
Effusion of Blood.—From Worcestershire.
Bloodshed. —From Worcestershire.
Jesus was born in Bethlehem,Baptized in the Jordan River;The water was turbulent and rough,But he was righteous and kind;God spoke, and the water parted,And so shall your blood now be.Charms were formerly always used when wounds were attempted to be cured. So in the old ballad of Tommy Potts:
Charms were once always used when trying to heal wounds. So in the old ballad of Tommy Potts:
Tom Potts was just a servant,But he was still a good doctor;He tied his handkerchief around the wound,And with a few words, he stopped the bleeding.Bed-charm.—The following is one of the most common rural charms that are in vogue. Boys are taught to repeat it instead of a prayer:
Bed-charm.—The following is one of the most common rural charms that are currently popular. Boys are taught to recite it instead of a prayer:
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,Watch over the bed I lie on;Four corners of my bed,Four angels around my head,One at my head and one at my feet,And two to keep my soul at peace!There are many variations of it. Ady, in his Candle in the Dark, 1656, p. 58, gives the first two lines as having been used by an old woman in the time of Queen Mary.
There are many variations of it. Ady, in his Candle in the Dark, 1656, p. 58, says that the first two lines were used by an old woman during the reign of Queen Mary.
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,Bless the bed I sleep on!All four corners all around,When I get in and when I get out!The two following distiches were obtained from Lancashire, but I cannot profess to explain them, unless indeed they were written by the Puritans to ridicule the above:
The two following couplets came from Lancashire, but I can't claim to explain them, unless they were written by the Puritans to mock the previous ones:
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,Stop the horse I'm about to jump on!Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,Grab a stick and put it down!Burn.—The following charm, repeated three times, was used by an old woman in Sussex, within the last forty years:
Burn.—The following charm, repeated three times, was used by an old woman in Sussex within the last forty years:
Two angels from the North,One brought fire, the other brought frost:Out with fire!In with frost!In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.Pepys has recorded this, with a slight variation, in his Diary, vol. ii. p. 416.
Pepys noted this, with a slight variation, in his Diary, vol. ii. p. 416.
Thorn.—This rural charm for a thorn was obtained from Yorkshire:
Thorn.—This country charm for a thorn was sourced from Yorkshire:
The Savior was born to the Virgin Mary,And he wore a crown of thorns on his head;If you truly believe this and remember it,This pain will never get infected or worsen!The following one is given by Lord Northampton in his Defensative against the Poyson of supposed Prophecies, 1583, as having been used by Mother Joane of Stowe:
The following one is provided by Lord Northampton in his Defensative against the Poison of supposed Prophecies, 1583, as having been used by Mother Joane of Stowe:
Our Lord was the first manThat ever felt a thorn prick;It never burned, nor it never ached,And I pray God this may not either.And Pepys, ii. 415, gives another:
And Pepys, ii. 415, provides another:
Christ was born of a virgin,And he was pierced by a thorn;And it neither rang nor swelled,And I believe in Jesus, this will never happen.Toothache.—A very common one in the North of England, but I do not remember to have seen it in print.
Toothache.—It's quite common in the North of England, but I don't recall seeing it mentioned in print.
Peter was sitting on a marble stone,And Jesus walked by;Peter said, "My Lord, my God,My tooth really hurts!"Jesus replied, "Peter, you're all good!And anyone who keeps these words for my sakeWill never have a toothache!" __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
[46] It is a fact that within the last few years the following ignorant copy of this charm was used by a native of Craven, recorded by Carr, ii. 264, and I have been informed on credible authority that the trade of selling efficacies of this kind is far from obsolete in the remote rural districts:
It’s a fact that in recent years, an uneducated version of this charm was used by someone from Craven, noted by Carr, ii. 264, and I’ve been told by reliable sources that the practice of selling these kinds of remedies is still common in the distant rural areas:
"Ass Sant Petter Sat at the Geats of Jerusalem our blesed Lord and Sevour Jesus Crist Pased by and Sead, What Eleth thee hee Sead Lord My Teeth Ecketh he Sead arise and folow Mee and Thy Teeth shall Never Eake Eney Moor. fiat + fiat + fiat +."
"Then St. Peter sat at the gates of Jerusalem when our blessed Lord and Savior Jesus Christ passed by and said, 'What troubles you?' He replied, 'Lord, my teeth ache.' He said, 'Get up and follow me, and your teeth will never ache again.' Amen, amen, amen."
Aubrey gives another charm for this complaint, copied out of one of Ashmole's manuscripts:
Aubrey offers another remedy for this issue, taken from one of Ashmole's manuscripts:
Mars, hurry, get here, get here;Jesus Christ, for Mary's sake,Please take away this toothache!Against an evil tongue. From Aubrey, 1696, p. 111.—"Take unguentum populeum and vervain, and hypericon, and put a red-hot iron into it. You must anoint the backbone, or wear it on your breast. This is printed in Mr. W. Lilly's Astrology. Mr. H. C. hath try'd this receipt with good success.
Against an evil tongue. From Aubrey, 1696, p. 111.—"Take unguentum populeum and vervain, and hypericon, and put a red-hot iron into it. You must anoint the backbone, or wear it on your breast. This is printed in Mr. W. Lilly's Astrology. Mr. H. C. has tried this remedy with good results.
"Vervain and dillKeep witches from getting their way."Cramp.—From Pepys' Diary, ii. 415:
Cramp. — From Pepys' Diary, ii. 415:
Cramp, be strong,Just like our Lady was without sin,When she gave birth to Jesus.Sciatica.—The patient must lie on his back on the bank of a river or brook of water, with a straight staff by his side between him and the water, and must have the following words repeated over him—
Sciatica.—The patient must lie on their back on the edge of a river or stream, with a straight stick beside them, positioned between them and the water, and must have the following words repeated over them—
Shave the bone well,Shave the bone straight;As the water flows along the stave,It’s good for bone shaving.The bone-shave is a Devonshire term for the sciatica. See the Exmoor Scolding, ed. 1839, p. 2.
The bone-shave is a term from Devonshire for sciatica. See the Exmoor Scolding, ed. 1839, p. 2.
Night-mare.—The following charm is taken from Scot's Discoverie of Witchcraft, 1584, p. 87:
Night-mare.—The following charm is taken from Scot's Discoverie of Witchcraft, 1584, p. 87:
S. George, S. George, our lady's knight,He walked by day, and so did he by night.Until the time he found her,He beat her and he bound her,Until she pledged her faith to him,She wouldn't come to him that night.Sore eyes.—From the same work, p. 246:
Sore eyes.—From the same work, p. 246:
The devil will pluck out both your eyes,And eat in the holes as well.For rest.—From the same work, p. 260:
For rest.—From the same work, p. 260:
In the name of the Father, up and down,And of the Son and the Holy Spirit upon my crown,The Cross of Christ upon my chest;Sweet lady, grant me eternal rest.Stopping of Blood.—From the same work, p. 273:
Stopping of Blood.—From the same work, p. 273:
In Adam's blood, death was accepted +In Christ’s blood, it was completely shattered +And by that same blood, I charge youTo refrain from wandering freely any longer.This charm continued in use long after the publication of Scot's work. A version of it, slightly altered, is given in the Athenian Oracle, 1728, i. 158, as having been used by a country empyryc.
This charm was still in use long after Scot's work was published. A slightly altered version of it can be found in the Athenian Oracle, 1728, i. 158, credited to a rural healer.
Evil Spirits.—"When I was a boy," says Aubrey, MS. Lansd. 231, "a charme was used for (I thinke) keeping away evill spirits, which was to say thrice in a breath—
Evil Spirits.—"When I was a boy," says Aubrey, MS. Lansd. 231, "a charm was used for (I think) keeping away evil spirits, which was to say three times in one breath—
"Three blue beans in a blue bladder,Rattle, bladder, rattle."These lines are quoted by Zantippa in Peele's Old Wives Tale, 1595.
These lines are quoted by Zantippa in Peele's Old Wives Tale, 1595.
BUCKEE BENE.
Buckee, Buckee, biddy Bene,Is the path clear and tidy now?Has the goose gone to nest,And the fox gone to rest?Should I leave?These curious lines are said by Devonshire children when they go through any passages in the dark, and are said to be addressed to Puck or Robin Goodfellow as a method of asking permission to trace them. Biddy bene, A.-S. biddan, to ask or pray, bén, a supplication or entreaty. Buckee, possibly a corruption of Puck.
These curious lines are spoken by Devonshire children when they walk through dark passages and are believed to be directed to Puck or Robin Goodfellow as a way of asking for permission to follow them. Biddy bene, A.-S. biddan, to ask or pray, bén, a supplication or entreaty. Buckee, possibly a twist on Puck.
THE OX.
In Herefordshire, on the eve of Twelfth-day, the best ox, white or spotted, has a cake placed on his left horn; the men and girls of the farm-house being present, drink out of a silver tankard to him, repeating this verse—
In Herefordshire, on the night before Twelfth Night, the best ox, whether white or spotted, is given a cake on his left horn. The men and girls from the farmhouse gather to drink from a silver tankard in his honor, reciting this verse—
We raise our glasses to you and your white horn,Praying that God grants our master a great harvest of corn,Wheat, rye, and barley, and all kinds of grain:If I’m alive next time, I’ll toast to you again!The animal is then sprinkled with the libation. This makes him toss his head up and down, and if, in so doing, the cake be thrown forwards, it is a good omen; if backwards, the contrary. Sir S. Meyrick, Trans. Brit. Arch. Assoc. Glouc. 1848, p. 128, appears to consider this custom a relic of the ancient Pagan religion.
The animal is then sprinkled with the drink offering. This causes it to toss its head up and down, and if, while doing this, the cake is thrown forward, it's a good omen; if backward, the opposite. Sir S. Meyrick, Trans. Brit. Arch. Assoc. Glouc. 1848, p. 128, seems to think this custom is a leftover from the ancient Pagan religion.
LOVE DIVINATIONS.
Butter-dock.—The seeds of butterdock must be sowed by a young unmarried woman half an hour before sunrise on a Friday morning, in a lonesome place. She must strew the seeds gradually on the grass, saying these words—
Butter-dock.—The seeds of butterdock must be sown by a young unmarried woman half an hour before sunrise on a Friday morning, in a secluded spot. She should scatter the seeds slowly on the grass, saying these words—
I plant, I plant!So, my sweet,Come here, come here,And cut and cut!The seed being scattered, she will see her future husband mowing with a scythe at a short distance from her. She must not be frightened, for, if she says "Have mercy on me," he will immediately vanish. This method is said to be infallible, but it is looked upon as a bold, desperate, and presumptuous undertaking.
The seed scattered, she will see her future husband mowing with a scythe nearby. She shouldn't be scared, because if she says "Have mercy on me," he will disappear right away. This method is said to be foolproof, but it's seen as a bold, risky, and audacious move.
True-love.—Two young unmarried girls must sit together in a room by themselves, from twelve o'clock at night till one o'clock the next morning, without speaking a word. During this time each of them must take as many hairs from her head as she is years old, and, having put them into a linen cloth with some of the herb true-love, as soon as the clock strikes one, she must burn every hair separately, saying—
True-love.—Two young unmarried girls must sit together in a room alone, from midnight until one in the morning, without saying a word. During this time, each girl has to take as many hairs from her head as she is years old and, after placing them in a linen cloth along with some of the herb true-love, she must burn each hair one by one as soon as the clock strikes one, saying—
I present this sacrificeTo the one I hold dearest;I urge you to come to me now,So that I can see you this moment.Upon which her first husband will appear, and walk round the room, and then vanish. The same event happens to both the girls, but neither see the other's lover.
Upon which her first husband will show up, walk around the room, and then disappear. The same thing happens to both girls, but neither sees the other's partner.
Gerard says of the herb true-love or moonwort, p. 328, that "witches do wonders withall, who say that it will loose locks, and make them to fall from the feete of horses that grase where it doth growe."
Gerard says of the herb true-love or moonwort, p. 328, that "witches do wonders with it, claiming that it can loosen locks and make them fall from the feet of horses that graze where it grows."
A charm-divination on the 6th of October, St. Faith's day, is still in use in the North of England. A cake of flour, spring water, salt and sugar, is made by three girls, each having an equal hand in the composition. It is then baked in a Dutch oven, silence being strictly preserved, and turned thrice by each person. When it is well baked, it must be divided into three equal parts, and each girl must cut her share into nine pieces, drawing every piece through a wedding-ring which had been borrowed from a woman who has been married seven years. Each girl must eat her pieces of cake while she is undressing, and repeat the following verses:
A charm-divination on October 6th, St. Faith's day, is still practiced in the North of England. Three girls prepare a cake made of flour, spring water, salt, and sugar, each contributing equally to the mix. The cake is then baked in a Dutch oven, with everyone maintaining strict silence and turning it three times each. Once it's well baked, it’s divided into three equal parts, and each girl cuts her portion into nine pieces, passing each piece through a wedding ring borrowed from a woman married for seven years. Each girl must eat her pieces of cake while getting undressed, reciting the following verses:
O good St. Faith, please be kind tonight,And bring to me my heart's desire;Let me see my future husband,And let my visions be pure and true.All three must then get into one bed, with the ring suspended by a string to the head of the couch. They will then dream of their future husbands, or if perchance one of them is destined to lead apes, she will dream of wandering by herself over crags and mountains.
All three must then get into one bed, with the ring hanging from a string at the head of the couch. They will then dream of their future husbands, or if one of them is meant to lead apes, she will dream of wandering alone over cliffs and mountains.
On the 28th of the same month, another divination is practised by the paring of an apple, which is taken by a girl in the right hand, who recites the following lines, standing in the middle of a room—
On the 28th of the same month, another form of fortune-telling is done by peeling an apple. A girl takes the apple in her right hand and recites the following lines while standing in the middle of a room—
St. Simon and Jude, I come to you,With this cutting, I seek to find,Without wasting time, tell me todayThe first letter of my true love's name.She must then turn round three times, casting the paring over her left shoulder, and it will form the first letter of her husband's name; but if the paring breaks into many pieces so that no letter is discernible, she will never marry. The pips of the apple must then be placed in cold spring water, and eaten by the girl; but for what further object my deponent sayeth not.
She must then turn around three times, throwing the peel over her left shoulder, and it will create the first letter of her husband’s name; but if the peel breaks into many pieces so that no letter is clear, she will never get married. The apple seeds must then be placed in cold spring water and eaten by the girl; however, for what additional purpose, my witness does not say.
A very singular divination practised at the period of the harvest-moon is thus described in an old chap-book. When you go to bed, place under your pillow a prayer-book open at the part of the matrimonial service, "With this ring I thee wed;" place on it a key, a ring, a flower, and a sprig of willow, a small heart-cake, a crust of bread, and the following cards:—the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace of spades, and the ace of diamonds. Wrap all these in a thin handkerchief of gauze or muslin, and on getting into bed, cross your hands, and say—
A unique form of divination practiced during the harvest moon is described in an old chapbook. Before going to bed, place an open prayer book under your pillow at the part of the wedding service that says, "With this ring I thee wed." On top of it, stack a key, a ring, a flower, a sprig of willow, a small heart-shaped cake, a piece of bread, and the following cards: the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace of spades, and ace of diamonds. Wrap all these items in a thin handkerchief made of gauze or muslin, and when you get into bed, cross your hands and say—
Luna, every woman's companion,Please grant me your kindness;Allow me to see in dreams tonightSymbols of my fate.If you dream of storms, trouble will betide you; if the storm ends in a fine calm, so will your fate; if of a ring or the ace of diamonds, marriage; bread, an industrious life; cake, a prosperous life; flowers, joy; willow, treachery in love; spades, death; diamonds, money; clubs, a foreign land; hearts, illegitimate children; keys, that you will rise to great trust and power, and never know want; birds, that you will have many children; and geese, that you will marry more than once.
If you dream of storms, trouble will come your way; if the storm ends in a nice calm, so will your fate; if you see a ring or the ace of diamonds, it means marriage; bread indicates a hardworking life; cake suggests a prosperous life; flowers symbolize joy; willow represents betrayal in love; spades signify death; diamonds mean money; clubs indicate a foreign land; hearts represent illegitimate children; keys suggest that you will achieve great trust and power and never go without; birds indicate that you will have many children; and geese suggest that you will marry more than once.
In Dorsetshire, the girls have a method of divination with their shoes for obtaining dreams of their future husbands. At night, on going to bed, a girl places her shoes at right angles to one another, in the form of a T, saying—
In Dorsetshire, girls have a way of predicting their future husbands using their shoes. At night, when they go to bed, a girl puts her shoes at right angles to each other, forming a T, and says—
I hope to see my true love tonight,so I’ll set my shoes in the shape of a T.On St. Luke's day, says Mother Bunch, take marigold flowers, a sprig of marjoram, thyme, and a little wormwood; dry them before a fire, rub them to powder; then sift it through a fine piece of lawn, and simmer it over a slow fire, adding a small quantity of virgin honey, and vinegar. Anoint yourself with this when you go to bed, saying the following lines three times, and you will dream of your partner "that is to be:"
On St. Luke's day, says Mother Bunch, take marigold flowers, a sprig of marjoram, thyme, and a little wormwood; dry them by the fire, crush them into powder; then sift it through a fine piece of fabric, and simmer it over a low flame, adding a small amount of virgin honey and vinegar. Apply this before you go to bed, repeating the following lines three times, and you will dream of your future partner:
St. Luke, St. Luke, please be kind to me,In dreams, let me see my true love.If a girl desires to obtain this information, let her seek for a green peascod in which there are full nine peas, and write on a piece of paper—
If a girl wants to get this information, she should look for a green peapod that contains exactly nine peas, and then write on a piece of paper—
Come in, my dear,And don’t be afraid;which paper she must inclose in the peascod, and lay it under the door. The first person who comes into the room will be her husband. Does Shakespeare allude to some notion of this kind by the wooing of a peascod in As You Like It, ii. 4?
which paper she must include in the peascod and place it under the door. The first person to enter the room will be her husband. Does Shakespeare hint at something like this with the wooing of a peascod in As You Like It, ii. 4?
ST. AGNES' NIGHT.
"The women have several magical secrets handed down to them by tradition, as on St. Agnes' night, 21st January. Take a row of pins, and pull out every one, one after another, saying a Pater Noster, sticking a pin in your sleeve, and you will dream of him or her you shall marry. You must lie in another county, and knit the left garter about the right-legg'd stockin (let the other garter and stockin alone), and as you rehearse these following verses, at every comma knit a knot:
"The women have a number of magical secrets passed down through tradition, especially on St. Agnes' night, January 21st. Take a row of pins and remove each one, one by one, while saying a Pater Noster, sticking a pin in your sleeve, and you'll dream of the person you’re going to marry. You need to lie down in a different county and knit the left garter around the right stocking (leave the other garter and stocking alone), and as you recite the following verses, tie a knot at every comma:
This knot I tieTo learn what I don't know yet:So I can seeThe man who will be my husband,How he moves and what he wears,And what he does every day.Accordingly in your dream you will see him, if a musician with a lute or other instrument, if a scholar, with a book, &c. A gentlewoman that I knew confessed in my hearing, that she used this method, and dreamt of her husband whom she had never seen. About two or three years after, as she was on Sunday at church, up pops a young Oxonian in the pulpit. She cries out presently to her sister, 'This is the very face of the man that I saw in my dream.'"—Aubrey's Miscellanies, ed. 1696, p. 105.
Accordingly, in your dream, you'll see him, whether he's a musician with a lute or another instrument, or a scholar with a book, etc. A woman I knew admitted in front of me that she used this method and dreamed of her husband, whom she had never met. About two or three years later, while she was at church on a Sunday, a young man from Oxford appeared in the pulpit. She immediately exclaimed to her sister, 'This is the exact face of the man I saw in my dream.'”—Aubrey's Miscellanies, ed. 1696, p. 105.
On St. Agnes' day, take a sprig of rosemary, and another of thyme, and sprinkle them thrice with water. In the evening put one in each shoe, placing a shoe on each side of the bed, and when you retire to rest, say the following lines, and your future husband will appear "visible to sight:"
On St. Agnes' day, take a sprig of rosemary and one of thyme, and sprinkle them three times with water. In the evening, put one in each shoe, placing a shoe on each side of the bed, and when you go to sleep, say the following lines, and your future husband will appear "visible to sight:"
St. Agnes, you're kind to lovers,Come help ease my troubled mind.KALE.
The young women of some districts in the North of England have a method of divination by kale or broth, which is used for the purpose of learning who are to be their future husbands. The plan followed is this. The maiden at bedtime stands on something on which she never stood before, holding a pot of cold kale in her hand, and repeating the following lines. She then drinks nine times, goes to bed backwards, and of course dreams of her partner:
The young women in some areas of Northern England have a way of telling the future using kale or broth, which helps them find out who their future husbands will be. Here’s how it works. At bedtime, the girl stands on something she has never stood on before, holding a pot of cold kale, and recites the following lines. She then drinks nine times, goes to bed backward, and, of course, dreams about her future partner:
Hot kale or cold kale, I drink you;If I ever marry a man, or a man marries me,I hope to see him tonight,Tomorrow he may knowIn church, at a fair, or in the market,Above all other men.On Valentine's day take two bay leaves, sprinkle them with rose-water, and lay them across your pillow in the evening. When you go to bed, put on a clean nightgown turned wrong side outwards, and, lying down, say these words softly to yourself:
On Valentine's Day, take two bay leaves, sprinkle them with rose water, and lay them across your pillow in the evening. When you go to bed, put on a clean nightgown inside out, and while lying down, say these words softly to yourself:
Happy Valentine’s Day, be sweet to me,In my dreams, let me see my true love.After this go to sleep as soon as you can, and you will see in a dream your future husband.
After this, go to sleep as soon as you can, and you'll see your future husband in a dream.
Schoolboys have several kinds of divination-verses on going to bed, now repeated "more in mock than mark," but no doubt originating in serious belief—
Schoolboys have various kinds of divination verses they recite before going to bed, now said "more in jest than in earnest," but undoubtedly stemming from a genuine belief—
Go to bed first,A golden purse;Go to bed second,A golden pheasant;Go to bed third,A golden bird.The positions they occupy in the bed are suggestive of the following fortunes:
The positions they take in bed hint at the following outcomes:
Whoever lies at the stock,Will get the gold rock;Whoever lies at the wall,Will get the gold ball;Whoever lies in the middle,Will get the gold fiddle.BALL-DIVINATION.
Cook a ball, cherry tree;Good ball, tell meHow many years until I seeMy true love beside me?One and two, that makes three;Thank you, good ball, for telling me.Cook is to toss, or throw, a provincialism common in the Midland counties. The ball is thrown against a wall, and the divination is taken from the number of rebounds it makes. Another version is—
Cook means to toss or throw, which is a regional expression often used in the Midland counties. The ball is thrown against a wall, and the prediction is based on how many times it bounces back. Another version is—
Cuckoo, cherry tree, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__Good ball, tell meHow many years will it beBefore I get married?
[47] The following lines reached me without an explanation. They seem to be analogous to the above:
The following lines came to me without any explanation. They seem to be similar to the ones above:
Cuckoo, cherry-tree,Lay an egg, give it me;Lay another,Give it my brother!And this is probably correct, for we appear to have formed this method of divination in some indirect manner from a custom still prevalent in Germany of addressing the cuckoo, when he is first heard, with a view of ascertaining the duration of life, by counting the number of times it repeats its note. The lines used on this occasion are given by Grimm:
And this is likely true, as it seems we've developed this method of fortune-telling in some indirect way from a tradition still common in Germany of addressing the cuckoo when it's first heard, to determine the length of life by counting how many times it repeats its call. The phrases used for this purpose are provided by Grimm:
Kukuk, Beckerknecht!Tell me the truth,How many years am I supposed to live?An old story is told of a man who was on his road towards a monastery, which he was desirous of entering as a monk for the salvation of his soul, and hearing the cuckoo, stopped to count the number of notes. They were twenty-two. "Oh!" said he, "since I shall be sure to live twenty-two years, what is the use of mortifying myself in a monastery all that time? I'll e'en go and live merrily for twenty years, and it will be all in good time to betake me to a monastery for the other two." See Wright's Essays, i. 257; and Latin Stories, p. 42, de cuculo; p. 74, de muliere in extremis quæ dixit kuckuc. Both these tales curiously illustrate the extent to which faith in the divination extended.
An old story tells of a man who was on his way to a monastery, wanting to join as a monk for the salvation of his soul. While he was walking, he heard a cuckoo and stopped to count its calls. There were twenty-two. "Oh!" he said, "since I am sure to live for twenty-two years, what's the point of giving myself up in a monastery for all that time? I might as well live happily for twenty years, and then it will be fine to move to a monastery for the last two." See Wright's Essays, i. 257; and Latin Stories, p. 42, de cuculo; p. 74, de muliere in extremis quæ dixit kuckuc. Both of these tales interestingly show how far belief in divination went.
If a maid desires to attach the affections of her lover unalterably to her, she must wait till she finds him asleep with his clothes on. She must then take away one of his garters without his perceiving it, and tie it to her own in a true-love knot, saying—
If a maid wants to make sure her lover's feelings are permanently hers, she should wait until she finds him asleep in his clothes. Then, she needs to quietly take one of his garters and tie it to her own in a true-love knot, saying—
Three times I tie this knotto make it secure;The knot is strong,his love will last for sure.In many parts of the country, it is considered extremely unlucky to give a person anything that is sharp, as a knife, razor, &c., but the bad fortune may be averted if the receiver gives something, however trifling, in return, and exclaims—
In many parts of the country, it's considered really unlucky to give someone anything sharp, like a knife or a razor. However, the bad luck can be avoided if the person receiving the gift gives something back, no matter how small, and says—
If you love me like I love you,No knife can sever our love in half!In counting the buttons of the waistcoat upwards, the last found corresponding to one of the following names indicates the destiny of the wearer:
In counting the waistcoat buttons from the bottom up, the last one you find that matches one of the following names reveals the wearer's fate:
I believe—a captain, a colonel, a cowboy, a thief.THE EVEN-ASH.
A girl must pluck a leaf from the even-ash, and, holding it in her hand, say—
A girl has to pick a leaf from the even-ash tree, and while holding it in her hand, she must say—
This even-ash I’m holding in my hand,The first I encounter is my true love.She carries it in her hand a short distance, and if she meets a young man, he will be her future husband. If not, she must put the leaf in her glove, and say—
She holds it in her hand for a little while, and if she crosses paths with a young man, he will become her future husband. If not, she needs to put the leaf in her glove and say—
This even-ash I have in my glove,The first person I meet is my true love.She carries it in her glove a short time, with the same intention as before, but if she meets no one, she places the leaf in her bosom, saying—
She holds it in her glove for a little while, with the same intention as before, but if she doesn't run into anyone, she puts the leaf in her chest, saying—
This even-ash I carry in my heart,The first person I see is my husband.And the first young man she meets after this will infallibly be her future partner. There are a great variety of rhymes relating to the even-ash. Another is—
And the first guy she meets after this will definitely be her future partner. There are a lot of rhymes related to the even-ash. Another one is—
If you come across ash or a four-leaf clover,You’ll see your love before the day is over.DOCK.
Nettle in, dock out,Dock rub nettle out!If a person is stung with a nettle, a certain cure will be effected by rubbing dock leaves over the part, repeating the above charm very slowly. Mr. Akerman gives us another version of it as current in Wiltshire:
If someone gets stung by a nettle, a certain cure will happen by rubbing dock leaves on the affected area while slowly repeating the above charm. Mr. Akerman provides another version of it that's common in Wiltshire:
Out of trouble, in port,The dock will have a new look;Trouble won't last long!THE YARROW.
This plant, in the eastern counties, is termed yarroway, and there is a curious mode of divination with its serrated leaf, with which you must tickle the inside of your nose, repeating the following lines. If the operation causes the nose to bleed, it is a certain omen of success:
This plant, in the eastern counties, is called yarroway, and there’s an interesting way of telling the future using its jagged leaf, where you have to tickle the inside of your nose while repeating the following lines. If this makes your nose bleed, it’s a sure sign of success:
Yarroway, yarroway, show a white flower,If my love cares for me, my nose will bleed now.Another mode of divination with this plant caused a dream of a future husband. An ounce of yarrow, sewed up in flannel, must be placed under your pillow when you go to bed, and having repeated the following words, the required dream will be realized:
Another way to use this plant for divination is to dream about your future husband. You should put an ounce of yarrow wrapped in flannel under your pillow when you go to sleep, and after repeating the following words, you'll have the dream you seek:
You lovely herb of Venus' tree,Your true name is yarrow;Now who must my closest friend be,Please tell me tomorrow.Boys have a variety of divinations with the kernels of pips of fruit. They will shoot one with their thumb and forefinger, exclaiming—
Boys have different ways of telling fortunes using fruit seeds. They will flick one with their thumb and forefinger, shouting—
Kernel, Kernel, hop over my thumb,And tell me which way my true love will come;East, West, North, or South,Kernel, jump into my true love's mouth.This is taken from Mr. Barnes's Dorset Gl., p. 320, but the author does not inform us in what way the divination was effected. I remember throwing apple-pips into the fire, saying—
This is taken from Mr. Barnes's Dorset Gl., p. 320, but the author does not explain how the divination was done. I remember throwing apple seeds into the fire, saying—
If you love me, show it and go for it,If you hate me, just give up and fade away!addressing an imaginary love, or naming some individual whose affection was desired to be tested.
addressing a fictional love, or mentioning someone whose feelings were hoped to be tested.
Girls used to have a method of divination with a "St. Thomas's onion," [48] for the purpose of ascertaining their future partners. They peeled the onion, wrapped it up in a clean handkerchief, and then placing it under their heads, said the following lines:
Girls used to have a way of predicting the future with a "St. Thomas's onion," [48] to find out about their future partners. They peeled the onion, wrapped it in a clean handkerchief, and then placed it under their heads while reciting the following lines:
Good St. Thomas, please help me,And let my true love come tonight,So I can see him face to face,And hold him in my loving arms;which were considered infallible for procuring a dream of the beloved one.
which were thought to be foolproof for achieving a dream of the one you love.
[48] One of the old cries of London was, "Buy my rope of onions—white St. Thomas's onions." They are also mentioned in the "Hog hath lost his Pearl," i. 1. To know if your present sweetheart will marry you, let an unmarried woman take the bladebone of a shoulder of lamb, and borrowing a penknife, without on any account mentioning the purpose for which it is required, stick it through the bone when she goes to bed for nine nights in different places, repeating the following lines each time:
To find out if your current partner will marry you, have an unmarried woman take the bladebone from a lamb shoulder. Using a penknife, and without revealing the reason, she should stick the knife through the bone each night for nine nights in different spots, repeating these lines each time:
It's not this bone I want to use,But my love's heart I want to pierce,Hoping to give him no rest or sleep,Until he comes to me to talk.Accordingly at the end of the nine days, or shortly afterwards, he will ask for something to put to a wound he will have met with during the time he was thus charmed. Another method is also employed for the same object. On a Friday morning, fasting, write on four pieces of paper the names of three persons you like best, and also the name of Death, fold them up, wear them in your bosom all day, and at night shake them up in your left shoe, going to bed backwards; take out one with your left hand, and the other with your right, throw three of them out of the shoe, and in the morning whichever name remains in the shoe is that of your future husband. If Death is left, you will not marry any of them.
Accordingly, at the end of the nine days or soon after, he will ask for something to treat a wound he will have received during the time he was enchanted. Another method is also used for the same purpose. On a Friday morning, while fasting, write the names of your three favorite people on four pieces of paper, and also the name of Death. Fold them up, keep them close to your heart all day, and at night, shake them up in your left shoe before going to bed backwards. Take one out with your left hand and another with your right, throw three of them out of the shoe, and in the morning, the name that remains in the shoe is your future husband's name. If Death is left, you won’t marry any of them.
VERVAIN.
The herb vervain was formerly held of great efficacy against witchcraft, and in various diseases. Sir W. Scott mentions a popular rhyme, supposed to be addressed to a young woman by the devil, who attempted to seduce her in the shape of a handsome young man:
The herb vervain was once believed to be very effective against witchcraft and various illnesses. Sir W. Scott references a popular rhyme, thought to be directed at a young woman by the devil, who tried to seduce her in the form of a handsome young man:
If you want to be my sweetheart,Stop with the St. John's wort and the vervain.By his repugnance to these sacred plants, his mistress discovered the cloven foot. Many ceremonies were used in gathering it. "You must observe," says Gerard, "Mother Bumbies rules to take just so many knots or sprigs, and no more, least it fall out so that it do you no good, if you catch no harme by it; many odde olde wives' fables are written of vervaine, tending to witchcraft and sorcerie, which you may reade elsewhere, for I am not willing to trouble your eares with reporting such trifles as honest eares abhorre to heare." An old English poem on the virtue of herbs, of the fourteenth century, says:
By his aversion to these sacred plants, his mistress found out his true nature. There were many rituals involved in gathering it. "You must pay attention," says Gerard, "to Mother Bumbies' rules that you should take only a certain number of knots or sprigs, and no more, so it doesn’t lose its effectiveness, even if it doesn’t harm you; many strange old wives' tales are written about vervain, related to witchcraft and sorcery, which you can read elsewhere, as I’m not willing to bore you with such nonsense that decent ears can't stand." An old English poem from the fourteenth century about the power of herbs says:
As we prepare, most of them should beWith three Our Fathers and three Hail Marys,Fasting, even if the weather is harsh,Between mid-March and mid-April,And yet, most of the bees are gone,That the sun is in Aries.A magical MS. in the Chetham Library at Manchester, of the time of Queen Elizabeth, furnishes us with a poetical prayer used in gathering this herb:
A magical manuscript in the Chetham Library in Manchester, from the time of Queen Elizabeth, provides us with a poetic prayer used in gathering this herb:
All hail, you holy herb vervain,Growing from the earth;On the mount of CalvaryYou were found;You relieve many griefs,And heal many wounds.In the name of sweet Jesus,I take you from the ground.O Lord, bring about the sameThat I am now setting out to do.The following lines, according to this authority, were to be said when pulling it:
The following lines, according to this source, were to be spoken when pulling it:
In the name of God, on Mount OlivetI first discovered you;In the name of JesusI lift you from the ground.Two hogsheads full of money were concealed in a subterraneous vault at Penyard Castle, in Herefordshire. A farmer undertook to drag them from their hiding-place, a matter of no small difficulty, for they were protected by preternatural power. To accomplish his object, he took twenty steers to draw down the iron doors of the vault in which the hogsheads were deposited. The door was partially opened, and a jackdaw was seen perched on one of the casks. The farmer was overjoyed at the prospect of success, and as soon as he saw the casks, he exclaimed, "I believe I shall have it." The door immediately closed with a loud clang, and a voice in the air exclaimed—
Two huge barrels full of money were hidden in an underground vault at Penyard Castle in Herefordshire. A farmer took on the challenge of getting them out, which was no easy task since they were protected by some supernatural force. To achieve his goal, he brought twenty oxen to pull open the heavy iron doors of the vault where the barrels were stored. The door was partially opened, and a jackdaw was spotted sitting on one of the barrels. The farmer was thrilled at the chance of success, and as soon as he saw the barrels, he exclaimed, "I think I’m going to get it." Suddenly, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, and a voice in the air said—
If it hadn't beenFor your quicken-tree stick,And your yew-tree pin,You and your cattleWould have all been caught!The belief that the quicken-tree is of great efficacy against the power of witches is still in force in the North of England. The yew-tree was formerly employed in witchcraft, a practice alluded to in Macbeth:
The belief that the quicken tree is very effective against witchcraft is still alive in the North of England. The yew tree was once used in witchcraft, a practice mentioned in Macbeth:
Liver of a cursing Jew,Gall from goats, and twigs of yew,Splintered in the moon's eclipse.FINGER-NAILS.
There is a superstition, says Forby, ii. 411, respecting cutting the nails, and some days are considered more lucky for this operation than others. To cut them on a Tuesday is thought particularly auspicious. Indeed if we are to believe an old rhyming saw on this subject, every day of the week is endowed with its several and peculiar virtue, if the nails are invariably cut on that day and no other. The lines are as follow:
There’s a superstition, says Forby, ii. 411, about cutting nails, and some days are seen as luckier for this than others. Cutting them on a Tuesday is believed to be especially lucky. In fact, if we’re to trust an old rhyming saying on this topic, each day of the week has its own special benefit if nails are consistently cut on that day and not on any other. The lines go like this:
If you cut them on Monday, it’s for your health;If you cut them on Tuesday, it’s for your wealth;If you cut them on Wednesday, it's for the news;If you cut them on Thursday, you’ll get new shoes;If you cut them on Friday, it’s for your sorrow;If you cut them on Saturday, you’ll see your true love tomorrow;If you cut them on Sunday, the devil will be with you all week.The following divination-rhymes refer to the gifts, or white spots on the nails, beginning with the thumb, and going on regularly to the little finger. The last gift will show the destiny of the operator pro tempore,—
The following divination rhymes refer to the gifts, or white spots on the nails, starting with the thumb and continuing regularly to the little finger. The last gift will reveal the operator's destiny pro tempore,—
A gift—a friend—a rival—A journey—to take.DAYS OF BIRTH.
A child born on Monday is beautiful,A child born on Tuesday is graceful,A child born on Wednesday is full of sorrow,A child born on Thursday has a long journey ahead,A child born on Friday is kind and generous,A child born on Saturday works hard to make a living;And a child born on Christmas dayIs attractive, wise, good, and joyful.COLOURS.
Colour-superstitions, though rapidly disappearing, still obtain in the remote rural districts. The following lines were obtained from the East of England:
Colour superstitions, although quickly fading away, still exist in remote rural areas. The following lines were gathered from the East of England:
Blue is loyal,Yellow feels envious,Green is neglected,Red is bold,White represents love,And black signifies death!THE MAN IN THE MOON.
The Man in the MoonStirs his porridge with a little spoon.A Northumberland dish called sowins, is composed of the coarse parts of oatmeal, which are put into a tub, and covered with water, and then allowed to stand till it turns sour. A portion of it is then taken out, and sapped with milk. It may easily be imagined that this is a substance not very accessible to the movements of a cutty or very small spoon.
A Northumberland dish called sowins is made from the rough parts of oatmeal, which are placed in a tub, covered with water, and left to stand until it turns sour. A portion is then taken out and served with milk. It's easy to imagine that this is something not very easy to eat with a tiny spoon.
Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, p. 412, informs us that there are three legends connected with the Man in the Moon; the first, that this personage was Isaac carrying a bundle of sticks for his own sacrifice; the second, that he was Cain; and the other, which is taken from the history of the Sabbath-breaker, as related in the Book of Numbers. The last is still generally current in this country, and is alluded to by Chaucer, and many early writers. The second is mentioned by Dante, Inferno, xx., Cain sacrificing to the Lord thorns, the most wretched production of the ground,—
Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, p. 412, tells us that there are three legends about the Man in the Moon; the first is that this figure was Isaac carrying a bundle of sticks for his own sacrifice; the second is that he was Cain; and the third, which comes from the story of the Sabbath-breaker, as described in the Book of Numbers. The last one is still widely known in this country and is referenced by Chaucer and many early writers. The second is mentioned by Dante, Inferno, xx., where Cain sacrifices to the Lord thorns, the most miserable produce of the ground,—
——for it already holds the boundaryOf both hemispheres, and touches the waveUnder Sibilia, Cain and the thorns.It appears that sowins were not the only food of the lunary inhabitant, for it is related by children he once favoured middle-earth with his presence, and took a fancy to some pease-porridge, which he was in such a hurry to devour that he scalded his mouth:
It seems that sowins weren't the only food of the lunar inhabitant, as children have said he once graced middle-earth with his presence and developed a taste for some pease-porridge, which he was so eager to eat that he burned his mouth:
The Man in the MoonFell down,And asked for directions to Norwich;He traveled south,And burned his mouthBy eating hot pea porridge.His chief beverage, as everybody knows, was claret:
His main drink, as everyone knows, was claret:
The Man in the Moon drinks red wine,But he's a boring fancy guy;If he can't tell a sheep's head from a carrot,He should start drinking cider and brandy.Another old ballad commences,—
Another old song begins,—
The Man in the Moon drinks red wine,With dried beef, turnip, and carrot.X.—CUSTOM-RHYMES.
- CHRISTMAS.
- CHRISTMAS MUMMERS' PLAY.
- NEW YEAR'S DAY.
- TWELFTH-NIGHT.
- CATHERNING.
- VALENTINE'S DAY.
- YOULING.
- BOY'S BAILIFF.
- PACE-EGGING.
- COLLOP-MONDAY.
- ISLE OF WIGHT SHROVERS.
- EASTER-GLOVES.
- LENT-CROCKING.
- CARE-SUNDAY.
- APRIL-FOOL-DAY.
- MAY-DAY.
- HARVEST-HOME.
- THE BARLEY MOW.
- ALL-SOULS' DAY.
- FIFTH OF NOVEMBER.
- BARBERS' FORFEITS.
- COCKLE-BREAD.
- A DRINKING CUSTOM.
It is greatly to be feared that, notwithstanding the efforts made within the last few years by individuals who have desired to see the resuscitation of the merry sports and customs of old England, the spirit which formerly characterised them is not to be recovered. The mechanical spirit of the age has thrown a degree of ridicule over observances which have not been without use in their day; and might even now be rendered beneficial to the public, were it possible to exclude the influence which tells the humbler subject such matters are below his regard. Yet it must be confessed that most of our ancient customs are only suited to the thinly-populated rural districts, where charity, goodwill, and friendship may be delicately cultivated under the plea of their observance.
It is greatly to be feared that, despite the efforts made in recent years by those who want to bring back the joyful sports and traditions of old England, the spirit that once defined them may not be recoverable. The mechanical nature of our age has cast a level of ridicule on practices that were useful in their time and could still benefit the public today, if only we could ignore the attitude that suggests these matters are beneath the notice of everyday people. However, it must be acknowledged that most of our ancient customs are really only suitable for sparsely populated rural areas, where charity, goodwill, and friendship can be nurtured through their observance.
CHRISTMAS.
I wish you a merry Christmas,And a happy new year,A pantry full of good roast beef,And a barrel full of beer.To these lines we may add the following north-country nursery song:
To these lines, we can add this northern nursery rhyme:
Christmas is here, and now Dad has come home,With a pegtop for Tammie, a hussif for Sue;A new bag of marbles for Dick; and for Joan,A workbox; for Phoebe a bow for her shoe:For Cecily, a singing humming-top has come,For sleepy Marie, a sleeping-top to meet;For Ben, Ned, and Harry, a fife and two drums,For Jennie, a box of sweet sugar-plums.CHRISTMAS MUMMERS' PLAY.
A rude drama is performed at Christmas by the guisers or mummers in most parts of England and Scotland, but the versions are extremely numerous, and no less than six copies have reached me differing materially from each other. In the following copy, which is the most perfect one I have been able to procure, the dramatis personæ consist of a Fool, St. George, Slasher, a Doctor, Prince of Paradine, King of Egypt, Hector, Beelzebub, and little Devil Doubt. I am informed that this drama is occasionally acted at Easter as well as at Christmas.
A rude play is performed at Christmas by the guisers or mummers in many parts of England and Scotland, but there are so many versions, with at least six different copies I've received that vary significantly. In the following version, which is the best one I've been able to find, the dramatis personæ include a Fool, St. George, Slasher, a Doctor, Prince of Paradine, King of Egypt, Hector, Beelzebub, and little Devil Doubt. I’ve been told that this play is sometimes performed at Easter as well as at Christmas.
Enter Actors.Fool. Make way! Make way, brave gentlemen, let’s find room to perform,Because we’ve come together for a fun time,To share our joyful rhyme,Remember, good sirs, it’s Christmas time!The season for goose-pies has arrived,So we are here to present our merry Christmas show;At the sound of the trumpet and the beat of the drum,Make space, brave gents, and let our actors come!We are the merry actors wandering the street,We are the merry actors fighting for our feast;We are the merry actors presenting a delightful play.Step in, St. George, champion, and clear the way.Enter ST. GEORGE.St. George. I am St. George, who hails from old England,My renowned name has echoed throughout the world;I've performed many bold feats and wonders,And made tyrants shake with fear on their thrones.I followed a lovely lady to a giant's lair,Held captive in a deep dungeon to face her doom;So I decided, with true knightly spirit,To break down the door and free her from her plight;When a giant came close to striking me down,But through my bravery, I severed his head from his crown.I’ve traveled everywhere, round and round,But I've never found a man who can match my prowess.Enter SLASHER.Slasher. I am a bold soldier, and Slasher's my name,With sword and shield by my side, I hope to win the game;You aren’t able to fight with me, so mark my word,With my trusty sword, soon I’ll leave you hurt!St. George. Hurt! Hurt! That’s not within your reach,For with my gleaming sword and spear, I'll soon have you beseeched.Step back, Slasher! Let’s speak no more,For if I draw my sword, I’ll surely break your core!Slasher. How can you break my head?Since it’s made of iron,And my body’s made of steel;My hands and feet are made of bone:I challenge you to a duel.[They fight, and Slasher is wounded. Exit St. George.What must I do to revive him again?Here he lies in front of you all,I'll call for a doctor with care!(Shouts.) A doctor! A doctor! Ten pounds for a doctor!I’ll go fetch a doctor.[Going.By my skills and quickness.I’ll only take five from you.Fool. You’ll be quite clever if you get any (to himself).Well, how far have you traveled in the practice of medicine?And now I’ve returned to cure the ills in old England again.Fool. That far, and no further?Doctor. Oh yes! Much further indeed.Fool. How far?Doctor. From the cupboard by the fire, upstairs, and into bed.Fool. What diseases can you cure?Doctor. All kinds.Fool. What does all kinds include?Doctor. The itch, the rash, the palsy, and the gout.If a man has nineteen demons in his head,I’ll drive twenty of them out.I have in my pockets crutches for crippled ducks, glasses for blind bees, saddles and packs for grasshoppers, and bandages for injured mice. I cured Sir Harry of a hangnail that was almost fifty-five yards long; surely I can cure this poor man.Here, Jack, take a little from my bottle,And let it run down your throat;If you aren’t completely dead,Rise, Jack, and fight again.[Slasher rises.Slasher. Oh, my back!Fool. What’s wrong with your back?Slasher. My back is wounded,And my heart is troubled,To be struck out of my senses and back to earth;Such a thing has never occurred in old England before.Enter ST. GEORGE.Oh, listen! St. George, I hear the silver trumpet sound,That way is the exit (points).[Exeunt Slasher, Doctor, and Fool.And with my trusty sword, I won ten thousand pounds in gold;And by those means, I won the King of Egypt’s daughter.Enter PRINCE OF PARADINE.Prince. I am the Black Prince of Paradine, born of high status;Before St. George is accepted by me,Or by my sword, you'll face death;And send your buttons flying.Prince. Draw your sword and fight,For I will demand recompenseAnd what notable sights, pray, have you seen?dares to engage someone like you?And then I’ll fight you without dread or fear.And all his joys have completely fled;And never let him come near my sight.Enter KING OF EGYPT.King. I am the King of Egypt, as you can see;And spilled his precious blood on the ground?St. George. I killed him, it was me,Please, my liege, I maintain my honor,You’ve destroyed me and killed my only son.St. George. He challenged me; why should I refuse?For I’ve never needed help so much in my life!Enter HECTOR.And don’t just stand there with your sword in hand,And by my sword, I hope to triumph today;Who killed my master's son and heir;I’ll spill it like a flood!St. George. Stop, Hector! Don’t be so rash,I could humble you with ease,I could slice you into small pieces,Mince pies hot, and mince pies cold,And set my anger aside?And send me across the sea to create mince pies?How can you send me to Black Sam before I’m even three days old?My body’s made of steel,I challenge you to a duel.I’ve fought in many bloody battles, and I’ve always come out on top;(A trumpet sounds.)That way is the exit (points).[Exit.Enter FOOL.St. George. Here comes the post, old Bold Ben.Fool. Why, master, did I ever take you as my friend?St. George. Why, Jack, have I ever harmed you?Fool. You proud, cheeky fool, be gone!St. George. A fool! I defy that title!Set the time and place, and I’ll meet you there.St. George. I’ll cross the water at five o’clock,[Exit.Enter BEELZEBUB.And over my shoulders, I carry my club;Bring in Devil Doubt, and clear the way.Enter DEVIL DOUBT.If you don’t give me money, I’ll sweep you all out:If you don’t give me money, I’ll send you all to the grave.NEW YEAR'S DAY.
God bless the head of this house,And the lady of the house too,And all the little kidsWho gather around the table;And all your relatives,Who live both far and near;I wish you a merry Christmas,And a happy new year.Wassel or Wassal.—A remnant of this part of our Saxon manners still exists at Yarmouth, and strange to say, in no other part of the Isle of Wight. On the first day of the new year the children collect together and sing wassel or wassal through the streets; the following is their song (see p. 249):
Wassel or Wassal.—A remnant of this part of our Saxon customs still exists at Yarmouth, and strangely enough, in no other part of the Isle of Wight. On the first day of the new year, the children come together and sing wassel or wassal through the streets; the following is their song (see p. 249):
Welcome, welcome, to our town!The cup is white and the ale is brown;The cup is made from ashen wood,And the ale is brewed from good barley;Little girl, little girl, turn the pin,Open the door and let us come in;God is here, God is there.I wish you all a happy new year!TWELFTH-NIGHT.
The following verses are said to be in some way or other connected with the amusements of this festival. They refer probably to the choosing the king and the queen on Twelfth-night:
The following verses are believed to be related in some way to the activities of this festival. They likely refer to the selection of the king and queen on Twelfth Night:
Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green,When I become king, dilly dilly, you'll be queen:Who told you that, dilly dilly, who told you so?It was my own heart, dilly dilly, that told me so.Gather your men, dilly dilly, put them to work,Some with a rake, dilly dilly, some with a fork;Some to make hay, dilly dilly, some to thresh corn,While you and I, dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm.If you should die, dilly dilly, as might happen,You’ll be buried, dilly dilly, under the tap;Who told you that, dilly dilly, please tell me why?So you can drink, dilly dilly, when you're dry.Another version may be given for the sake of adding the traditional tune to which it was sung:
Another version can be provided to include the traditional tune it was sung to:
Lavender Blue
Lavender Blue
Title: Lavender blue. Time signature: 6/8. Default note length: 1/16. Key: C. c2 c2 d2 c2 Bb A G F Lavender blue, fiddle faddle, f2 e2 d2 c3 Lavender green. c2 c2 d2 c2 Bb A G F When I’m king, fiddle faddle, G2 G2 A2 G3 You shall be queen. c2 e2 d2 c2 A A A A Call up your men, fiddle faddle; c2 e2 d2 c3 Set them to work— c2 B2 A2 G2 C C C C Some with a rake, fiddle faddle— c2 d2 B2 c3 Some with a fork— c2 c2 c2 c2 Bb A G F Some to make hay, fiddle faddle— f2 e2 d2 c3 Some to the farm, c2 c2 d2 c2 Bb A G F While you and I, fiddle faddle f2 A2 G2 F3 Keep ourselves warm.CATHERNING.
Catharine and Clement, come here, come here,Some of your apples, and some of your beer:Some for Peter, and some for Paul,And some for the one who created us all:Clement was a good man,For his sake, share some with us,Not the worst, but some of the best,And God will grant your soul rest.These lines are sung by the children of Worcestershire on St. Catharine's day, when they go round to the farmhouses collecting apples and beer for a festival. This is no doubt the relic of a Popish custom; and the Dean of Worcester informs me that the Chapter have a practice of preparing a rich bowl of wine and spices, called the "Cathern bowl," for the inhabitants of the college precincts upon that day.
These lines are sung by the children of Worcestershire on St. Catharine's day when they go around to the farmhouses collecting apples and beer for a festival. This is likely a leftover from a Catholic tradition; and the Dean of Worcester tells me that the Chapter has a practice of preparing a rich bowl of wine and spices, called the "Cathern bowl," for the people living in the college area on that day.
VALENTINE'S DAY.
In the western counties, the children, decked with the wreaths and true-lover's knots presented to them, gaily adorn one of their number as their chief, and march from house to house, singing—
In the western counties, the kids, wearing the wreaths and true-love knots given to them, happily choose one of their friends as their leader and parade from house to house, singing—
Good morning to you, Valentine!Style your hair like I do mine;Two in the front and three in the back;Good morning to you, Valentine!They commence in many places as early as six o'clock in the morning, and intermingle the cry, "To-morrow is come!" Afterwards they make merry with their collections. At Islip, co. Oxon, I have heard the children sing the following when collecting pence on this day:
They start in many places as early as six in the morning, and mix in the shout, "Tomorrow has come!" Then they celebrate with their collections. In Islip, Oxfordshire, I've heard the kids sing this when collecting coins on this day:
Good morning, Valentine!I am yours and you are mine,So please give me a Valentine!And likewise the following:
And similarly the following:
Good morning, Valentine,God bless you always!If you'll be loyal to me,I'll be the same to you;Long live England!Schoolboys have a very uncomplimentary way of presenting each other with these poetical memorials:
Schoolboys have a pretty harsh way of giving each other these poetic tributes:
Look, fool, look,What do you expect to see?Everyone has a valentine,And here’s one for you!Far different from this is a stanza which is a great favorite with young girls on this day, offered indiscriminately, and of course quite innocently, to most of their acquaintances:
Far different from this is a stanza that’s a big favorite with young girls on this day, shared casually and, of course, quite innocently, with most of their acquaintances:
The rose is red,The violet is blue;Pinks are sweet,And so are you!The mission of valentines is one of the very few old customs not on the wane; and the streets of our metropolis practically bear evidence of this fact in the distribution of love-messages on our stalls and shop-windows, varying in price from a sovereign to one halfpenny. Our readers, no doubt, will ask for its origin, and there we are at fault to begin with. The events of St. Valentine's life furnish no clue whatever to the mystery, although Wheatley, in his Illustration of the Common Prayer, absurdly disposes of the question in this way: "St. Valentine was a man of most admirable parts, and so famous for his love and charity, that the custom of choosing valentines upon his festival, which is still practised, took its rise from thence." We see no explanation here in any way satisfactory, and must be contented with the hope that some of our antiquaries may hit on something more to the purpose.
The tradition of sending valentines is one of the few old customs that hasn't faded away; the streets of our city clearly show this through the love messages displayed in shops and windows, with prices ranging from a pound to half a penny. Our readers are probably curious about its origin, but that's where we hit a dead end. The events of St. Valentine's life don’t provide any clues to the mystery, though Wheatley, in his Illustration of the Common Prayer, absurdly explains it like this: "St. Valentine was a man of extraordinary qualities, and so well-known for his love and kindness that the practice of choosing valentines on his festival, which is still observed, began from that." We don't find this explanation satisfying at all and can only hope that some of our historians will discover something more relevant.
Valentine's day has long been popularly believed to be the day on which birds pair. Shakespeare alludes to this belief:
Valentine's Day has long been commonly thought to be the day when birds mate. Shakespeare references this idea:
Good morning, friends: St. Valentine is over;Are these birds just starting to pair up now?It was anciently the custom to draw lots on this day. The names of an equal number of each sex were put into a box, in separate partitions, out of which every one present drew a name, called the valentine, which was regarded as a good omen of their future marriage. It would appear from a curious passage quoted in my Dictionary of Archaisms, that any lover was hence termed a valentine; not necessarily an affianced lover, as suggested in Hampson's Calendarium, vol. i. p. 163. Lydgate, the poet of Bury, in the fifteenth century, thus mentions this practice:
It used to be a tradition to draw names on this day. The names of an equal number of men and women were placed into a box with separate sections, and everyone present picked a name, called a valentine, which was seen as a good sign for their future marriage. A curious note in my Dictionary of Archaisms suggests that any admirer was called a valentine; not just someone who was engaged, as indicated in Hampson's Calendarium, vol. i. p. 163. Lydgate, the poet from Bury in the fifteenth century, mentions this practice:
Every year, on Saint Valentine’s Day,Men in this area have a traditionTo look for and follow Cupid's calendar,And choose their partner with deep affection:Those who are inspired by Cupid's influence,Decide on their choice based on fate:But I love one who stands above them all.Gay alludes to another popular notion referring to the same day:
Gay refers to another popular idea about the same day:
Last Valentine’s Day, when birds of the same kindFind their partners with their cheerful songs,I woke up early, right at dawn,Before the sun had chased the stars away;I went out to the fields, through the burning dew,To milk my cows, as housewives often do.You were the first I saw; and the first lover we see,Despite our circumstances, our true love will be.The divinations practised on Valentine's day is a curious subject. Herrick mentions one by rose-buds:
The divinations practiced on Valentine's Day are an interesting topic. Herrick refers to one involving rosebuds:
She can’t keep celebrating May;Or by divine rosebudsWho will be her valentine.Perhaps the poet may here allude to a practice similar to the following, quoted by Brand: "Last Friday was Valentine day; and the night before I got five bay-leaves, and pinned four of them to the four corners of my pillow, and the fifth to the middle; and then, if I dreamt of my sweetheart, Betty said we should be married before the year was out. But to make it more sure I boiled an egg hard, and took out the yolk, and filled it with salt; and when I went to bed, eat it shell and all, without speaking or drinking after it. We also wrote our lovers' names upon bits of paper, and rolled them up in clay, and put them into water; and the first that rose up was to be our valentine. Would you think it? Mr. Blossom was my man. I lay abed, and shut my eyes all the morning, till he came to our house, for I would not have seen another man before him for all the world." According to Mother Bunch, the following lines should be said by the girl on retiring to rest the previous night:
Perhaps the poet is hinting at a practice similar to the one mentioned by Brand: "Last Friday was Valentine’s Day; the night before, I took five bay leaves and pinned four of them to the corners of my pillow, and the fifth one in the middle. Then, if I dreamed about my sweetheart, Betty said we would be married by the end of the year. To be even more sure, I boiled an egg hard, removed the yolk, filled it with salt, and then ate it, shell and all, without speaking or drinking afterward before going to bed. We also wrote our lovers' names on pieces of paper, rolled them up in clay, and put them in water; the first one to rise would be our Valentine. Can you believe it? Mr. Blossom was my guy. I stayed in bed, kept my eyes shut all morning until he came to our house because I didn't want to see anyone else before him for anything in the world." According to Mother Bunch, the girl should say the following lines before going to sleep the night before:
Dear guardian angels, please grant meWhat I truly desire,A valentine filled with love,That will be both kind and steadfast.We believe the old custom of drawing lots on this eventful day is obsolete, and has given place to the favorite practice of sending pictures, with poetical legends, to objects of love or ridicule. The lower classes, however, seldom treat the matter with levity, and many are the offers of marriage thus made. The clerks at the post-offices are to be pitied, the immense increase of letters beyond the usual average adding very inconveniently to their labours.
We think the old tradition of drawing lots on this significant day is outdated, and has been replaced by the popular practice of sending pictures with poetic captions to people we admire or mock. However, the lower classes rarely take it lightly, and many marriage proposals are made this way. The clerks at the post offices deserve sympathy, as the huge increase in letters beyond the usual amount makes their work a lot more difficult.
"This iz Volantine day, mind, an be wot ah can see theal be a good deal a hanksiaty a mind sturrin amang't owd maids an't batchillors; luv sickness al be war than ivver wor nawn, espeshly amang them ats gettin raither owdish like; but all al end weel, so doant be daan abaght it. Ah recaleckt, when ah wor a yung man, ah went tut poast-office an bowt hauf a peck a volantines for tuppance, an when ah look't em ovver, thear wor wun dereckted for mesen, an this wor wot thear wor it inside:
"This is Valentine's Day, you know, and from what I can see, there seems to be a lot of anxiety stirring among the old maids and bachelors; love sickness is worse than ever, especially among those who are getting a bit older; but in the end, everything will work out, so don’t worry about it. I recall when I was a young man, I went to the post office and bought half a peck of valentines for a couple of pennies, and when I looked them over, there was one addressed to me, and this is what was inside:"
Paper is scarce, and love is precious,So I've sent you a piece of my pig-ear;And if it’s the same with you, my dear,Please send me a piece of your pig-ear.Ha, ah wor mad, yo mind, ah nivver look't at a yung womman for two days at after for't; but it wor becos ah hedant a chonce."—Yorkshire Dial.
Ha, I'm crazy, you know, I never looked at a young woman for two days and after that; but it was because I didn't have a chance. —Yorkshire Dial.
YOULING.
In Rogation week there is or was an odd custom in the country about Keston and Wickham, in Kent. A number of young men meet together for the purpose, and, with a most hideous noise, run into the orchards, and, encircling each tree, pronounce these words:
In Rogation week, there's a strange tradition in the areas of Keston and Wickham in Kent. A group of young men gets together for this purpose and, making a terrible racket, rush into the orchards and, surrounding each tree, say these words:
Stay strong, roots; support well, branches;May God grant us a generous harvest!Every twig, big apples;Every branch, plenty of apples.Hats full, caps full,Full quarter sacks full.For this incantation the confused rabble expect a gratuity in money, or drink, which is no less welcome; but if they are disappointed in both, they, with great solemnity, anathematize the owners and trees with altogether as insignificant a curse.
For this chant, the bewildered crowd expects a tip in cash or a drink, which is just as appreciated; but if they don’t get either, they seriously curse the owners and the trees with a rewardless spell.
"It seems highly probable," says Hasted, in his History of Kent, "that this custom has arisen from the ancient one of perambulation among the heathens, when they made their prayers to the gods, for the use and blessing of the fruits coming up, with thanksgiving for those of the preceding year; and as the heathens supplicated Eolus, the god of the winds, for his favorable blasts, so in this custom they still retain his name, with a very small variation, the ceremony being called yeuling; and the word is often used in their invocations."
"It seems very likely," says Hasted, in his History of Kent, "that this custom has come from the ancient one of walking the boundaries among the pagans, when they prayed to the gods for the growth and blessing of the fruits to come, giving thanks for those from the previous year; and just as the pagans pleaded with Eolus, the god of the winds, for favorable breezes, this custom still keeps his name with just a slight variation, the ceremony being called yeuling; and the word is frequently used in their prayers."
BOY'S BAILIFF.
An old custom, formerly in vogue at Wenlock, in Shropshire, thus described by Mr. Collins: "I am old enough to remember an old custom, and the last time it took place was about sixty years ago; it was called the 'boy's bailiff,' and was held in the Easter week, Holy Thursday, or in Whitsun week, and I have no doubt was for the purpose of going a bannering the extensive boundaries of this franchise, which consists of eighteen parishes. It consisted of a man, who wore a hair-cloth gown, and was called the bailiff, a recorder, justices, town-clerk, sheriff, treasurer, crier, and other municipal officers. They were a large retinue of men and boys mounted on horseback, begirt with wooden swords, which they carried on their right sides, so that they must draw the swords out of the scabbards with their left hands. They, when I knew them, did not go the boundary, but used to call at all the gentlemen's houses in the franchise, where they were regaled with meat, drink, and money; and before the conclusion they assembled at the pillory, at the guildhall, where the town-clerk read some sort of rigmarole which they called their charter, and I remember one part was—
An old tradition that used to happen in Wenlock, Shropshire, was described by Mr. Collins: "I’m old enough to remember this tradition, and the last time it happened was about sixty years ago; it was called the 'boy's bailiff,' and took place during Easter week, Holy Thursday, or Whitsun week. I believe it was meant to celebrate the extensive boundaries of this franchise, which covers eighteen parishes. It featured a man in a hair-cloth gown, known as the bailiff, along with a recorder, justices, the town clerk, sheriff, treasurer, crier, and other municipal officers. They formed a large group of men and boys on horseback, all wearing wooden swords at their sides, which they could only draw with their left hands. When I saw them, they didn't actually follow the boundary, but instead stopped at all the gentlemen’s houses in the franchise, where they were treated to food, drinks, and money; and before it wrapped up, they gathered at the pillory and at the guildhall, where the town clerk read some kind of routine text that they referred to as their charter, and I remember one part was—”
We travel from Bickbury and Badger to Stoke on the Clee,Then to Monkhopton, Round Acton, and back again we go.Bickbury, Badger, and Stoke on the Clee, were and are the two extreme points of the franchise, north and south; Monkhopton and Round Acton are two other parishes on the return from Stoke St. Millborough, otherwise Stoke on the Clee (or perhaps Milburga, the tutelar saint of the Abbey of Wenlock), to Much Wenlock. This custom I conceive to have originated in going a bannering, unless it should have been got up as a mockery to the magistracy of the franchise; but I rather think the former."
Bickbury, Badger, and Stoke on the Clee are the two farthest points of the franchise, north and south. Monkhopton and Round Acton are two other parishes on the way back from Stoke St. Millborough, also known as Stoke on the Clee (or maybe Milburga, the patron saint of the Abbey of Wenlock), to Much Wenlock. I believe this tradition started as a sort of celebration, unless it was created as a joke at the expense of the local authorities; but I lean towards the former idea.
PACE-EGGING.
It is a custom in some parts of England for boys to go round the village on Easter eve begging for eggs or money, and a sort of dramatic song is sometimes used on the occasion. The following copy was taken down from recitation some years ago in the neighbourhood of York; but in another version we find Lords Nelson and Collingwood introduced, by a practice of adaptation to passing events, which is fortunately not extensively followed in such matters. A boy, representing a captain, enters and sings—
It’s a tradition in some areas of England for boys to walk around the village on Easter Eve asking for eggs or money, often performing a sort of song during the process. The following version was noted from a performance a few years ago near York; however, in another version, Lords Nelson and Collingwood are mentioned, due to a trend of adapting to current events, which thankfully isn’t widely adopted in these cases. A boy, playing the role of a captain, comes in and sings—
Here are two or three cheerful guys all thinking the same,We've come to ask for some eggs, and we hope you'll be nice;I hope you'll be generous with your eggs and your beer,And we won’t come back asking for eggs until next year.Then old Toss-pot enters, and the captain, pointing him out, says—
Then old Toss-pot walks in, and the captain, pointing him out, says—
The first to arrive is old Toss-pot, as you can see,A courageous old guy for his age and status;He’s a tough guy whether on a hill or in a valley,And all he enjoys is drinking ale.Toss-pot then pretends to take a long draught from a huge quart-pot, and, reeling about, tries to create laughter by tumbling over as many boys as he can. A miser next enters, who is generally a boy dressed up as an old woman in tattered rags, with his face blackened. He is thus introduced by the captain:
Toss-pot then pretends to take a long swig from a big quart pot and, stumbling around, tries to make everyone laugh by toppling over as many boys as he can. Next, a miser enters, usually a boy dressed up as an old woman in tattered rags, with his face darkened. He is introduced by the captain:
An old miser is the next one who comes in with her bags,And to save her money, she wears nothing but rags.Chorus. Whatever you give us, we consider it our right,Then we bow our heads and wish you good night.This is repeated twice, and the performance concludes by the whole company shouting to the top of their voice—
This is repeated twice, and the performance ends with everyone in the company shouting at the top of their lungs—
Now, ladies and gentlemen, who are sitting by the fire,Put your hands in your pockets, that’s all we ask;Put your hands in your pockets, and pull out your wallet,We’ll be better off, and you won’t be worse off!"Pase-day, Easter-day. Pase-eggs, Easter-eggs. Corrupt. from Pasch. They have a proverbial rhyme in those parts for the Sundaies in Lent:
"Paz-day, Easter-day. Paz-eggs, Easter-eggs. Corrupt. from Pasch. They have a well-known rhyme in those areas for the Sundays in Lent:
Tid, Mid, Misera,Carl, Paum, happy Pase-day."Kennett, MS. Lansd. 1033.COLLOP-MONDAY.
Collop Monday,Pancake Tuesday,Ash Wednesday,Bludee Thursday,Friday's long, but it will be done,And hooray for Saturday afternoon!Verses for Shrove-tide, Collop-Monday being a North-country name for Shrove-Monday, because eggs and collops compose a standard dish for that day. At Islip, in Oxfordshire, the children, on Shrove-Tuesday, go round to the various houses to collect pence, saying:
Verses for Shrove-tide, Collop-Monday being a Northern name for Shrove-Monday, because eggs and collops make up a traditional dish for that day. In Islip, Oxfordshire, the children, on Shrove-Tuesday, go around to different houses to collect coins, saying:
Tap, tap, the pan is hot,We’ve come to celebrate;A little bit of bread and cheeseIs better than nothing.The pan is hot, the pan is cold;Is the fat in the pan nine days old?"Collap Munday.—This time reminds me on a bit ov a consarn at happand abaght two year sin, to a chap at thay call Jeremiah Fudgemutton. This Jerry, yo mun naw, went ta see a yung womman, a sweetheart a hiz, an when he put hiz arms raand her neck ta gie her a cus, it happand shood been hevin sum fried bacon to her dinner, an fagettan ta wipe t' grease off on her magth at after. Thear hiz faice slip't off on her chin-end, an slap went hiz head reight throot winda, an cut tip ov hiz noaze off."—Yorkshire Dial.
"Collap Munday.—This time reminds me of a situation that happened about two years ago, involving a guy named Jeremiah Fudgemutton. This Jerry, you know, went to see a young woman, a sweetheart of his, and when he put his arms around her neck to give her a kiss, it turned out she had some fried bacon for dinner and had forgotten to wipe the grease off her mouth afterwards. There his face slipped off onto her chin, and bam! His head went right through the window and sliced the tip of his nose off."—Yorkshire Dial.
ISLE OF WIGHT SHROVERS.
Until within about the last thirty years, it had been the custom in the Isle of Wight from time immemorial at all the farms and some other charitable houses to distribute cakes on Shrove-Tuesday, called Shrove-cakes, to the poor children of the parish or neighbourhood, who assembled early in the morning at the different villages, hamlets, and cottages, in parties of from two to thirty or more, for the purpose of what was denominated "Going Shroving," and the children bore the name of Shrovers. At every house they visited they had a nice Shrove-cake each given them. In those days the winters were much more inclement and of longer duration than at the present time, and it often happened that, in addition to a severe frost, the ground was covered several inches high with snow, yet however cold or intense the weather, it did not prevent these little ones from what they called in the provincial dialect Gwine a Shrovun, and they jogged merrily along hand in hand from one house to another to obtain their cakes; but, before receiving them, it was expected and deemed necessary that they should all sing together a song suitable to the occasion; those who sang the loudest were considered the best Shrovers, and sometimes had an extra cake bestowed on them; consequently, there was no want of noise (whatever there might have been of harmony) to endeavour to get another Shroving gift. There were many different versions of the song according to the parishes they lived in. The one generally sang by the children of the East Medina was as follows:
Until about the last thirty years, it had been a long-standing tradition in the Isle of Wight at all the farms and some charitable homes to hand out cakes on Shrove Tuesday, called Shrove-cakes, to the poor children in the parish or neighborhood. These children gathered early in the morning at various villages, hamlets, and cottages in groups of two to thirty or more for what was known as "Going Shroving," and the kids were called Shrovers. At each house they visited, they were given a delicious Shrove-cake. Back then, winters were much harsher and lasted longer than they do now, and it often happened that, in addition to severe frost, the ground was covered several inches deep with snow; however, no matter how cold or intense the weather was, it didn’t stop these little ones from what they called in the local dialect Gwine a Shrovun, and they joyfully walked hand in hand from one house to another to collect their cakes. Before receiving them, though, they were expected to sing a song together that was appropriate for the occasion; those who sang the loudest were considered the best Shrovers, and sometimes were rewarded with an extra cake; as a result, there was no shortage of noise (no matter what the harmony was like) as they tried to earn another Shroving gift. There were many different versions of the song depending on the parishes they lived in. The one typically sung by the children of the East Medina went like this:
A Shrovun, a Shrovun,I’ve come as a Shrovun,A piece of bread, a piece of cheese,A bit of your delicious meat,Or a dish of doughnuts,All of your own special treat!A Shrovun, a Shrovun,I’ve come as a Shrovun,Nice meat in a pie,My mouth is very dry!I wish I were well wet,I’d sing louder for a nut! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__Chorus. A Shrovun, a Shrovun,We’ve come as a Shrovun!
[49] Composed of flour and lard, with plums in the middle, and made into round substances about the size of a cricket-ball. They were called nuts or dough-nuts, and quite peculiar to the Isle of Wight. The song of the children of the West Medina was different:
The song of the kids from West Medina was different:
A Shrovun, a Shrovun,I'm becoming a Shrovun,Linen stuff is good enough,For us who come as a Shrovun.Great weather in a pie,My mouth is very dry.I wish I were well away,Then I'd sing louder for a nut!Ma'am, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ ma'am, an egg, an egg, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__Or a piece of bacon.Throw away __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__ the porridge pot,Or pot to boil the peas.Great weather in a pie,My mouth is very dry.I wish I were well away,Then I'd sing louder for a nut!Chorus. A Shrovun, a Shrovun,We're becoming a Shrovun!
[50] Dame. The mistress of the house, if past the middle age, was called Dame, i. e. Madame.
[51] An egg, an egg.
[52] Throw away. If the song was not given sufficiently loud, they were desired to sing it again. In that case it very rarely required a second repetition. When the Shrovers were more numerous than was anticipated, it not unfrequently happened that, before the time of the arrival of the latter parties, the Shrove-cakes had been expended; then dough-nuts, pancakes, bread and cheese, or bread and bacon, were given, or halfpence were substituted; but in no instance whatever were they sent from the door empty-handed. It is much to be regretted that this charitable custom should have become almost extinct; there being very few houses at the present time where they distribute Shrove-cakes.
If the song wasn’t loud enough, they were asked to sing it again. In that case, it usually didn’t need a second go. When there were more Shrovers than expected, it often happened that, before the later groups arrived, the Shrove-cakes were gone; then they would give out doughnuts, pancakes, bread and cheese, or bread and bacon, or they would give out pennies instead; but in no instance were they ever sent away empty-handed. It’s really unfortunate that this kind of charity has almost disappeared; very few homes today still hand out Shrove-cakes.
"There was another very ancient custom somewhat similar to the Shroving, which has also nearly, if not quite, disappeared; probably it began to decay within the last half-century: this was a gift of cakes and ale to children on New Year's Day, who, like the Shrovers, went from house to house singing for them; but, if we may judge from the song, those children were for the most part from the towns and larger villages, as the song begins, "A sale, a sale in our town;" there is no doubt but it was written for the occasion some centuries since, when "a sale" was not a thing of such a common occurrence as now, and when there was one, it was often held in an open field in or near the town." So writes my kind and valued correspondent, Captain Henry Smith, but town is, I think, merely a provincialism for village. It is so, at least, in the North of England. As for the phrase a seyal, it seems to be a corruption of wassail, the original sense having been lost. The following was the song:
"There was another very old tradition a bit like the Shroving, which has nearly, if not completely, vanished; it likely started to fade away in the last fifty years: this was a practice where children received cakes and ale on New Year's Day, and, similar to the Shrovers, they would go from house to house singing for them; but, judging by the song, these children mostly came from towns and larger villages, as the song starts with, "A sale, a sale in our town;" there's no doubt it was written for the occasion centuries ago, when "a sale" wasn't as common as it is today, and when one did occur, it was often held in an open field in or near the town." So writes my kind and valued correspondent, Captain Henry Smith, but town is, I believe, just a regional term for village. It is in the North of England, at least. As for the phrase a seyal, it seems to refer to a wassail, the original meaning of which has been lost. The following was the song:
A sale, a sale in our town,The cup is white and the ale is brown;The cup is made from the ash tree,And the ale is brewed from good barley.Chorus. Cake and ale, cake and ale,A piece of cake and a cup of ale;We sing merrily one and allFor a piece of cake and a cup of ale.Little maid, little maid, spin the pin, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__Lift up the latch and we'll all fall in; __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__Give us a cake and some ale that is brown,And we don't care a bit for the sale in the town.Chorus. We'll sing merrily one and allFor a cake and a cup of ale;God be there and God be here,We wish you all a happy New Year.
[53] That is, turn the pin inside the door in order to raise the latch. In the old method of latching doors, there was a pin inside which was turned round to raise the latch. An old Isle of Wight song says,—
That is, turn the pin inside the door to lift the latch. In the old way of latching doors, there was a pin inside that was turned to lift the latch. An old Isle of Wight song says,—
Then John he arose,And to the door goes,And he trolled, and he trolled at the pin.The lass she took the hint,And to the door she went,And she let her true love in.
[54] "Aal vall in," stand in rank to receive in turn the cake and ale. The above was the original song, but within the last fifty or sixty years, as the custom began to fall off, the chorus or some other part was often omitted.
The above was the original song, but over the last fifty or sixty years, as the tradition started to fade, the chorus or other sections were often left out.
EASTER-GLOVES.
I’m sending you these gloves with love,If you love me,Just drop the G,And create a pair of loves!It appears from Hall's Satires, 1598, that it was customary to make presents of gloves at Easter. In Much Ado About Nothing, the Count sends Hero a pair of perfumed gloves, and they seem to have been a common present between lovers. In Devonshire, the young women thus address the first young man they happen to meet on St. Valentine's day—
It seems from Hall's Satires, 1598, that it was common to give gloves as gifts at Easter. In Much Ado About Nothing, the Count sends Hero a pair of scented gloves, and they appear to have been a typical gift among lovers. In Devonshire, young women greet the first young man they encounter on St. Valentine's Day—
Good morning, Valentine, I’m going today,To wear for you what you need to pay,A pair of gloves next Easter day.In Oxfordshire I have heard the following lines intended, I believe, for the same festival:
In Oxfordshire, I've heard these lines that I believe are meant for the same festival:
The rose is red, the violet is blue,The gillyflower is sweet, and so are you;These are the words you asked me to sayFor a pair of new gloves on Easter day.LENT-CROCKING.
Parties of young people, during Lent, go to the most noted farmhouses, and sing, in order to obtain a crock of cake, an old song beginning—
Parties of young people, during Lent, go to the most famous farmhouses, and sing to get a crock of cake, an old song that starts—
I can tell by the latchThat there's something to grab;I can see by the stringThat the kind lady's inside;Give me a cake, since I have none;There's a stone at the door.Come on, give, and I'll leave."If invited in," says Mrs. Bray, "a cake, a cup of cider, and a health followed. If not invited in, the sport consisted in battering the house door with stones, because not open to hospitality. Then the assailant would run away, be followed and caught, and brought back again as prisoner, and had to undergo the punishment of roasting the shoe. This consisted in an old shoe being hung up before the fire, which the culprit was obliged to keep in a constant whirl, roasting himself as well as the shoe, till some damsel took compassion on him, and let him go; in this case he was to treat her with a little present at the next fair."
"If invited in," Mrs. Bray says, "a cake, a cup of cider, and a toast would follow. If not invited in, the entertainment involved throwing stones at the door because it wasn't open to guests. Then the attacker would run away, be chased down and caught, and brought back as a prisoner, facing the punishment of roasting the shoe. This punishment involved hanging an old shoe up by the fire, which the offender had to keep spinning, roasting both himself and the shoe until some girl took pity on him and let him go; in that case, he had to give her a little gift at the next fair."
CARE-SUNDAY.
Take care on Sunday, let worries fade,Palm Sunday and Easter day.Care-Sunday is the Sabbath next before Palm Sunday, and the second before Easter. Etymologists differ respecting the origin of the term. It is also called Carling-Sunday, and hence the Nottinghamshire couplet:
Care-Sunday is the Sunday before Palm Sunday and the second Sunday before Easter. Experts disagree about the origin of the term. It’s also known as Carling-Sunday, which is reflected in the Nottinghamshire couplet:
Tid, Mid, Misery,Carling, Palm, Easter Sunday.APRIL-FOOL-DAY.
The custom of making fools on the 1st of April is one of the few old English merriments still in general vogue. We used to say on the occasion of having entrapped any one—
The tradition of playing pranks on April 1st is one of the few old English celebrations that still enjoys wide popularity. We used to say when we had tricked someone—
Fool, fool, April fool,You don't learn anything by going to school!The legitimate period only extends to noon, and if any one makes an April-fool after that hour, the boy on whom the attempt is made, retorts with the distich—
The legitimate time for pranks is only until noon, and if someone plays an April Fool’s joke after that hour, the person being pranked responds with the saying—
April Fool's Day has come and gone,You're the fool, not me!MAY-DAY.
Wake up, beautiful maidens, oh, what a shame,I've traveled four long miles from home;I've been collecting my cheerful garlands;Wake up, lovely girls, and celebrate your May.This old Newcastle May-day song is given by Brockett, ii. 32. At Islip, near Oxford, the children go round the village on this day with garlands of flowers, singing—
This old Newcastle May Day song is provided by Brockett, ii. 32. In Islip, near Oxford, the kids walk around the village on this day with flower garlands, singing—
Good morning, ma'am and sir,I hope you have a wonderful day;Please take a look at my garland,Because today is the first of May.HARVEST-HOME.
Here's to our master,The host of the celebration,And I sincerely hope,That his soul rests peacefully in heaven.May everything he undertakesAlways be successful,For we are all his servants,And all at his command.These verses were sometimes said in proposing the health of the farmer at a harvest-home supper. Another version of them is given in Hone's Table Book, ii. 334. When they have had a fortunate harvest, and the produce has been carried home without an accident, the following lines are sang at the harvest-home:
These lines were sometimes recited when toasting the farmer's health at a harvest celebration. Another version can be found in Hone's Table Book, ii. 334. When they've had a successful harvest and the crops have been brought home safely, the following lines are sung at the harvest gathering:
Harvest time, harvest time,Never has a load been toppled.THE BARLEY MOW.
Cheers to the barley mow,Cheers to the man,Who can do it allFrom harrowing, plowing, to sowing.When it’s well sown,Make sure it’s well mown,Raked and cleaned up right,And a barn to store it in:Cheers to the man,Who can handleBoth threshing and fanning it clean.ALL-SOULS' DAY.
"November 2nd is All Souls, a day instituted by the Church of Rome in commemoration of all the faithful departed this life, that by the prayers and suffrages of the living they may be discharged of their purging pain, and at last obtain life everlasting. To this purpose the day is kept holy till noon. Hence proceeds the custom of Soul-mass cakes, which are a kind of oat-cakes that some of the richer sort of persons in Lancashire and Herefordshire (among the Papists there) use still to give the poor on this day; and they, in retribution of their charity, hold themselves obliged to say this old couplet:
"November 2nd is All Souls' Day, a day established by the Roman Catholic Church to honor all the faithful who have passed away. It is a time when the prayers and support of the living can help ease their suffering and ultimately lead them to eternal life. To mark this occasion, the day is kept sacred until noon. This is where the tradition of Soul-mass cakes comes from; these are a type of oat cake that some of the wealthier people in Lancashire and Herefordshire (among the Catholics there) still give to the poor on this day. In return for their generosity, the recipients feel obligated to recite this old couplet:
"God take your soul,beans and all."Festa Anglo-Romana, 1678, p. 109.FIFTH OF NOVEMBER.
Remember, remember the fifth of November,A date I've known forever,Gunpowder treason and plot:This was the day the scheme was created,To blow up the King and Parliament;But God's mercy intervenedTo save our King and his Parliament.A stick and a stakeFor King James's sake!If you don’t give me one,I'll take two,The better for me,And the worse for you!This is the Oxfordshire song chanted by the boys when collecting sticks for the bonfire, and it is considered quite lawful to appropriate any old wood they can lay their hands on after the recitation of these lines. If it happen that a crusty chuff prevents them, the threatening finale is too often fulfilled. The operation is called going a progging, but whether this is a mere corruption of prigging, or whether progging means collecting sticks (brog, Scot. Bor.), I am unable to decide. In some places they shout, previously to the burning of the effigy of Guy Fawkes—
This is the Oxfordshire song chanted by the boys when they gather sticks for the bonfire, and it's considered perfectly fine to take any old wood they can find after singing these lines. If a grumpy person tries to stop them, the threatening ending often comes true. This activity is called going a progging, but I'm not sure if this is just a variation of prigging, or if progging specifically means collecting sticks (brog, Scot. Bor.). In some places, they yell this out right before burning the effigy of Guy Fawkes—
A small amount of bread to feed the Pope,A small amount of cheese to choke him;A pint of beer to wash it down,And a good old bundle of sticks to burn him.The metropolis and its neighbourhood are still annually visited by subdued vestiges of the old customs of the bonfire-day. Numerous parties of boys parade the streets with effigies of Guy Fawkes, but pence, not antipopery, is the object of the exhibition, and the evening fires have generally been exchanged for the mischievous practice of annoying passengers with squibs and crackers. The spirit and necessity of the display have expired, and the lover of old customs had better be contented to hear of it in history; even although the special service for the day, still retained in our Prayer-book, may tend to recognise the propriety of external rejoicings.
The city and its surroundings are still visited each year by faint echoes of the old bonfire-day traditions. Groups of boys march through the streets carrying effigies of Guy Fawkes, but it’s not about anti-Catholic sentiments anymore; they’re just looking for coins. The evening bonfires have mostly been replaced by the annoying habit of bothering passersby with firecrackers and sparklers. The original spirit and purpose of the celebration have faded, and those who cherish old customs might as well accept that they can only read about them in history. Even though the special service for the day, still included in our Prayer Book, may suggest that public celebrations are appropriate.
BARBERS' FORFEITS.
—— laws apply to all mistakes,But mistakes are so tolerated that the strong lawsStand like the fines in a barber's shop,As much a joke as a penalty.Steevens and Henley, in their notes on Shakespeare, bear testimony to the fact that barbers were accustomed to expose in their shops a list of forfeits for misbehaviour, which were "as much in mock as mark," because the barber had no authority of himself to enforce them, and they were in some respects of a ludicrous nature. "Barbers' forfeits," says Forby, in his Vocabulary of East Anglia, p. 119, "exist to this day in some, perhaps in many, village shops. They are penalties for handling the razors, &c., offences very likely to be committed by lounging clowns, waiting for their turn to be scraped on a Saturday night or Sunday morning. They are still, as of old, 'more in mock than mark.' Certainly more mischief might be done two hundred years ago, when the barber was also a surgeon."
Steevens and Henley, in their notes on Shakespeare, confirm that barbers used to display a list of fines for bad behavior in their shops, which were "more for fun than serious," since barbers didn't have the authority to enforce them, and they were somewhat ridiculous. "Barbers' forfeits," says Forby in his Vocabulary of East Anglia, p. 119, "still exist today in some, maybe even many, village shops. They are penalties for mishandling the razors, offenses that clumsy customers are likely to commit while waiting for their turn to get a trim on a Saturday night or Sunday morning. They remain, as they always have, 'more for fun than serious.' Certainly, more mischief could be caused two hundred years ago when the barber was also a surgeon."
Dr. Kenrick [55] was the first to publish a copy of barbers' forfeits, and, as I do not observe it in any recent edition of Shakespeare, I here present the reader with the following homely verses obtained by the Doctor in Yorkshire:
Dr. Kenrick [55] was the first to publish a copy of barbers' forfeits, and since I don’t see it in any recent edition of Shakespeare, I’m sharing the following simple verses that the Doctor collected in Yorkshire:
[55] Review of Johnson's Shakespeare, 1765, p. 42.
Review of Johnson's Shakespeare, 1765, p. 42.
Rules for seemly Behaviour.First come, first serve—then come not late;And when arrived, keep your state;For he who from these rules shall swerve,Must pay the forfeits—so observe.Who enters here with boots and spurs,Must keep his nook, for if he stirs,And give with armed heel a kick,A pint he pays for ev'ry prick.Who rudely takes another's turn,A forfeit mug may manners learn.Who reverentless shall swear or curse,Must lug seven farthings from his purse.Who checks the barber in his tale,Must pay for each a pot of ale.Who will or cannot miss his hatWhile trimming, pays a pint for that.And he who can or will not pay,Shall hence be sent half-trimm'd away,For will he nill he, if in faultHe forfeit must in meal or malt.But mark, who is alreads in drink,The cannikin must never clink!It is not improbable that these lines had been partly modernized from an older original before they reached Dr. Kenrick, but Steevens was certainly too precipitate in pronouncing them to be forgeries. Their authenticity is placed beyond a doubt by the testimony of my late friend, Major Moor, who, in his Suffolk Words, p. 133, informs us that he had seen a version of these rules at the tonsor's, of Alderton, near the sea.
It’s possible that these lines were somewhat updated from an older version before Dr. Kenrick got them, but Steevens was definitely too quick to call them forgeries. Their authenticity is beyond question thanks to the evidence from my late friend, Major Moor, who, in his Suffolk Words, p. 133, tells us that he had seen a version of these rules at the barber’s in Alderton, near the sea.
COCKLE-BREAD.
My grandma is sick, and now she's passed away, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__And we'll go shape some cockle-bread;Up on my feet and down with my head,And this is how to shape cockle-bread.
[56] Another version says, "and I wish she was dead, that I may go mould," &c., which, if correct, may be supposed to mean, "My granny is ill, and I wish she was dead, that I may use a charm for obtaining a husband." A very old practice of young women, moving as if they were kneading dough, and repeating the above lines, which are sometimes varied thus:
A very old practice among young women, moving as if they were kneading dough, and repeating the above lines, which are sometimes varied like this:
Cockeldy bread, mistley cake,When you do that for us.The entire explanation of this, which is not worth giving here, may be seen in Thoms's Anecdotes and Traditions, p. 95. An allusion to cockle-bread occurs as early as 1595, in Peele's singular play of the Old Wives Tale.
The full explanation of this, which isn't worth sharing here, can be found in Thoms's Anecdotes and Traditions, p. 95. A reference to cockle-bread appears as early as 1595 in Peele's unique play, the Old Wives Tale.
A DRINKING CUSTOM.
A pie was resting on a pear tree,A pie was resting on a pear tree,A pie was resting on a pear tree,Heigh ho! heigh ho! heigh ho!These lines are sung by a person at the table after dinner. His next neighbour then sings "Once so merrily hopped she," during which the first singer is obliged to drink a bumper; and should he be unable to empty his glass before the last line is sung, he must begin again till he succeeds. The next line is "Twice so merrily hopped she," sung by the next person under a similar arrangement, and so on; beginning again after "Thrice so merrily hopped she, heigh ho! heigh ho! heigh ho!" till the ceremony has been repeated around the table. It is to be hoped so absurd a practice is not now in fashion.
These lines are sung by someone at the table after dinner. His neighbor then sings, "Once so merrily hopped she," during which the first singer has to drink a full glass; if he can't finish his drink before the last line is sung, he has to start over until he does. The next line is "Twice so merrily hopped she," sung by the next person with the same rule, and so on; repeating after "Thrice so merrily hopped she, heigh ho! heigh ho! heigh ho!" until it goes all the way around the table. Hopefully, such a ridiculous practice isn't popular anymore.
When a boy finds anything, and another sees him stoop for it, if the latter cries halves before he has picked it up, he is, by schoolboy law, entitled to half of it. This right may, however, be negatived, if the finder cries out first—
When a boy finds something, and another boy sees him bending down to pick it up, if the second boy shouts halves before the first has actually picked it up, he is, according to schoolboy rules, entitled to half of it. However, this right can be overridden if the finder yells out first—
Ricket, racket, locate it, attach it,And never give it to the other.Or, sometimes the following:
Or, sometimes this:
No half-measures,Find it, keep it;Lose it, seek it.Boys leaving the schoolroom are accustomed to shout—
Boys leaving the classroom usually shout—
Those who follow my path get the good stuff,Those who follow your path get cut down.A sort of persuasive inducement, I suppose, for them to follow the speaker for the sake of forming a party for a game.
A kind of convincing reason, I guess, for them to follow the speaker to create a group for a game.
XI.—NURSERY-SONGS.
The earliest and simplest form in which the nursery song appears is the lullaby, which may be defined a gentle song used for the purpose of inducing sleep. The term was generally, though not exclusively, confined to nurses:
The earliest and simplest version of the nursery song is the lullaby, which can be defined as a soft song meant to help someone fall asleep. The term was mostly, though not exclusively, used by nurses:
Philomel, with melodySing our sweet lullaby;Lulla, lulla, lullaby;Lulla, lulla, lullaby.The etymology is to be sought for in the verb lull, to sing gently, which Douce thinks is connected with λαλεω or λάλλη. One of the earliest nursery lullabies that have descended to our day occurs in the play of Philotimus, 1583:
The origin can be traced back to the verb lull, which means to sing softly, and Douce believes it is linked to λαλεω or λάλλη. One of the earliest nursery lullabies that has come down to us appears in the play of Philotimus, 1583:
Throw the ball again to me, Jack,And be happy to play a bit,And I'll rock you on my lap,With hey, don't say no now.Another is introduced into the comedy of Patient Grissel, printed in the year 1603:
Another is introduced into the comedy of Patient Grissel, printed in the year 1603:
Shh, shh, shh, shh!And I dance my own child,And I dance my own child,Shh, shh, shh, shh!BILLY, MY SON.
The following lines are very common in the English nursery, and resemble the popular German ditty of Grandmother Addercook, inserted in the Knaben Wunderhorn, and translated by Dr. Jamieson in the Illustrations of Northern Antiquities. The ballad of the Crowden Doo, Chambers, p. 205, bears, however, a far greater similarity to the German song. Compare, also, the ballad of Willie Doo, in Buchan's Ancient Songs, ii. 179.
The following lines are very popular in English nursery rhymes and are similar to the well-known German song of Grandmother Addercook, which is included in the Knaben Wunderhorn and translated by Dr. Jamieson in the Illustrations of Northern Antiquities. However, the ballad of the Crowden Doo, Chambers, p. 205, is much closer in resemblance to the German song. Also, take a look at the ballad of Willie Doo in Buchan's Ancient Songs, ii. 179.
Where have you been today, Billy, my son?Where have you been today, my only man?I've been out wooing, mom, please make my bed soon,Because I'm feeling down, and I’d like to lie down.What did you eat today, Billy, my son?What did you eat today, my only man?I had eel pie, mom, please make my bed soon,Because I'm feeling down, and I might not last till noon.It is said there is some kind of a fairy legend connected with these lines, Billy having probably been visited by his mermaid mother. Nothing at all satisfactory has, however, yet been produced. It appears to bear a slight analogy to the old ballad, "Where have you been all the day, my boy Willie," printed from a version obtained from Suffolk, in the Nursery Rhymes of England, p. 146; [57] and on this account we may here insert a copy of the pretty Scottish ballad, Tammy's Courtship:
It’s said there’s some kind of fairy tale linked to these lines, with Billy likely having been visited by his mermaid mother. However, nothing that really explains it has come up yet. It seems to have a slight resemblance to the old ballad, "Where have you been all the day, my boy Willie," which was printed from a version collected in Suffolk, in the Nursery Rhymes of England, p. 146; [57] and for this reason, we can include a copy of the charming Scottish ballad, Tammy's Courtship:
Oh, where have you been all day,My boy Tammy?Where have you been all day,My boy Tammy?I've been by the stream and flowery hillside,Meadow green and mountain gray,Courting this young girl,Just came from her mother.And where did you get that young girl,My boy Tammy?And where did you get that young girl,My boy Tammy?I found her down in that hollow,Smiling on a grassy knoll,Herding a little lamb and eweFor her poor mother.What did you say to the pretty girl,My boy Tammy?What did you say to the pretty girl,My boy Tammy?I praised her eyes so lovely blue,Her dimpled cheek and cherry mouth;I said it often, as you might guess—She said she’d tell her mother.I held her to my beating heart,My young, my smiling lamb;I held her to my beating heart,My young, my smiling lamb:I have a house, it cost me dearly,I've plenty of furnishings and gear,You’ll get it all, worth ten times more,If you will leave your mother.The smile vanished from her pretty face,I can't leave my mother;The smile vanished from her pretty face,I can't leave my mother:She's given me food, she's given me clothes,She’s been my comfort all my days;My father’s death brought many sorrows—I cannot leave my mother.We'll take her home, and make her happy,My own kind-hearted lamb;We'll take her home, and make her happy,My own kind-hearted lamb:We'll give her food, we'll give her clothes,We’ll be her comfort all her days;The little one gives her hand and says—There! go and ask my mother.Has she been to church with you,My boy Tammy?Has she been to church with you,My boy Tammy?She’s been to church with me,And there was a tear in her eye;But, oh! she’s just a young thing,Just came from her mother!
[57] Another version was obtained from Yorkshire:
Another version was obtained from Yorkshire:
Where have you been all the day,My boy Billy?Where have you been all the day,My boy Billy?I have been all the dayCourting of a lady gay;Although she is a young thing,And just come from her mammy!Is she fit to be thy love,My boy Billy?She is as fit to be my love,As my hand is for my glove,Although she is, &c.Is she fit to be thy wife,My boy Billy?She is as fit to be my wife,As my blade is for my knife;Although she is, &c.How old may she be,My boy Billy?Twice six, twice seven,Twice twenty and eleven;Although she is, &c.The ballad of Lord Randal, printed by Sir Walter Scott, may, after all, furnish the true solution to the meaning of our nursery rhyme, and I am therefore induced to insert a version of it still popular in Scotland, in which the hero of the song is styled Laird Rowland:
The ballad of Lord Randal, printed by Sir Walter Scott, might actually provide the real answer to the meaning of our nursery rhyme. Because of this, I feel compelled to include a version that's still popular in Scotland, where the hero of the song is called Laird Rowland:
Ah! where have you been, Laird Rowlande, my son?Ah! where have you been, etc.I've been in the woods,Mother, make my bed soon,For I'm tired from hunting,And I would like to lie down.Oh! you've been with your true love, Laird Rowlande, my son!Oh! you've been with your true love, etc.I've been with my true love,Mother, make my bed soon,For I'm tired from hunting,And I would like to lie down.What did you have for dinner, Laird Rowlande, my son?What did you have for dinner, etc.I had eels boiled in broth,Mother, make my bed soon,For I'm tired from hunting,And I would like to lie down.What happened to your Warden, Laird Rowlande, my son?What happened to your Warden, etc.He died in the moors,Mother, make my bed soon,For I'm tired from hunting,And I would like to lie down.What happened to your stag hounds, Laird Rowlande, my son?What happened to your stag hounds, etc.They swelled and died!Mother, make my bed soon,For I'm tired from hunting,And I would like to lie down.The fable or plot of this seems to be, that Lord Rowlande, upon a visit at the castle of his mistress, has been poisoned by the drugged viands at the table of her father, who was averse to her marriage with the lord. Finding himself weary, and conscious that he is poisoned, he returns to his home, and wishes to retire to his chamber without raising in his mother any suspicions of the state of his body and mind. This may be gathered from his short and evasive answers, and the importunate entreaties with which he requests his mother to prepare his chamber.
The fable or plot of this appears to be that Lord Rowlande, during a visit to his mistress's castle, has been poisoned by the tainted food at her father's table, who disapproved of their marriage. Feeling exhausted and aware that he has been poisoned, he heads back home and wants to go to his room without alarming his mother about his condition. This is evident from his brief and vague responses, along with the desperate pleas he makes to his mother to get his room ready.
In Swedish there are two distinct versions: one, the Child's Last Wishes, in Geijer and Afzelius, iii. 13, beginning—
In Swedish, there are two separate versions: one is the Child's Last Wishes, found in Geijer and Afzelius, iii. 13, starting—
Where have you been for so long,Little daughter, sweet and small?I've been with my grandma,My dear stepmother, after all!For oh no! I am in so much pain—I!Where have you been so long now,My sweet little child?I’ve been with my nurse, for sure,My gentle stepmother, mild!For oh! oh! I’m feeling so sore—I!The second is in Afzelius, ii. 90, under the same title, and beginning—
The second is in Afzelius, ii. 90, under the same title, and beginning—
Where have you been for so long,My little daughter?I've been in Bänne,With my brother!Oh, oh! I'm in so much pain!Where have you been for so long now,My sweet little daughter?I've stayed in Bänne,With my brother!Oh! oh! I'm in so much pain—I!Both are sung to exquisitely melancholy melodies.
Both are sung to beautifully sad melodies.
Dr. Jamieson makes some very just observations on this ballad, and the importance of tracing this class of tales. "That any of the Scotch, English, and German copies of the same tale have been borrowed or translated from another, seems very improbable; and it would now be in vain to attempt to ascertain what it originally was, or in what age it was produced. It has had the good fortune in every country to get possession of the nursery, a circumstance which, from the enthusiasm and curiosity of young imaginations, and the communicative volubility of little tongues, has insured its preservation. Indeed, many curious relics of past times are preserved in the games and rhymes found amongst children, which are on that account by no means beneath the notice of the curious traveller, who will be surprised to find, after the lapse of so many ages, and so many changes of place, language, and manners, how little these differ among different nations of the same original stock, who have been so long divided and estranged from each other."
Dr. Jamieson makes some very accurate observations about this ballad and the significance of tracing this type of story. "It seems very unlikely that any of the Scottish, English, and German versions of the same tale were borrowed or translated from one another; and it would now be pointless to try to determine what the original was or when it was created. It has had the good fortune to be embraced by children in every country, which, due to the enthusiasm and curiosity of young minds and the chatter of little ones, has ensured its survival. In fact, many fascinating remnants of the past are kept alive in the games and rhymes among children, which makes them worthy of attention from curious travelers. They will be surprised to discover that, after so many ages and so many changes in location, language, and culture, these tales differ very little among various nations of the same original background that have been long separated from each other."
MY COCK LILY-COCK.
An inferior version of the following, which was obtained from Essex, is printed in Mr. Chambers's Popular Rhymes of Scotland, ed. 1847, p. 190. A Swedish version, or rather a variation, in Lilja, p. 17, commences as follows: "I served a farmer for four years, and he paid me with a hen. 'Skrock, skrock!' said my hen. I served a farmer for four years, and he paid me with a cock. 'Kucklilo!' said my cock. 'Skrock, skrock!' said my hen, &c."
An inferior version of the following, which was obtained from Essex, is printed in Mr. Chambers's Popular Rhymes of Scotland, ed. 1847, p. 190. A Swedish version, or rather a variation, in Lilja, p. 17, starts like this: "I worked for a farmer for four years, and he paid me with a hen. 'Cluck, cluck!' said my hen. I worked for a farmer for four years, and he paid me with a rooster. 'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' said my rooster. 'Cluck, cluck!' said my hen, etc."
I had a rooster, and a rooster loved me,And I fed my rooster under a hollow tree;My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!I had a hen, and a hen loved me,And I fed my hen under a hollow tree;My hen went—chick-chick, chick-chick—My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!I had a goose, and a goose loved me,And I fed my goose under a hollow tree;My goose went—quack, quack—My hen went—chick-chick, chick-chick—My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!I had a duck, and a duck loved me,And I fed my duck under a hollow tree;My duck went—quack, quack, quack—My goose went—quack, quack—My hen went—chick-chick, chick-chick—My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!I had a drake, and a drake loved me,And I fed my drake under a hollow tree;My drake went—ca-qua, ca-qua, ca-qua—My duck went—quack, quack, quack—My goose went—quack, quack, quack—My hen went—chick-chick, chick-chick—My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!I had a cat, and a cat loved me,And I fed my cat under a hollow tree;My cat went—meow, meow, meow—My drake went—ca-qua, ca-qua, ca-qua—My duck went—quack, quack, quack—My goose went—quack, quack, quack—My hen went—chick-chick, chick-chick—My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!I had a dog, etc. My dog went—bow, wow, wow—I had a cow, etc. My cow went—moo, moo, moo—I had a sheep, etc. My sheep went—baa, baa, baa—I had a donkey, etc. My donkey went—hee-haw, hee-haw—I had a horse, etc.; My horse went—neigh, neigh, neigh—I had a pig, and a pig loved me,And I fed my pig under a hollow tree;And my pig went—oink, oink, oink—My horse went—neigh, neigh, neigh—My donkey went—hee-haw, hee-haw—My sheep went—baa, baa, baa—My cow went—moo, moo, moo—My dog went—bow, wow, wow—My cat went—meow, meow, meow—My drake went—ca-qua, ca-qua, ca-qua—My duck went—quack, quack, quack—My goose went—quack, quack, quack—My hen went—chick-chick, chick-chick—My rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-doo—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!And so the pig—grunted,The horse—neighed,The donkey—brayed,The sheep—bleated,The cow—lowed,The dog—barked,The cat—meowed,The drake—quacked,The duck—quacked,The goose—gabbled,The hen—clucked,The rooster—crowed—And my rooster cried—cock-a-doodle-do!—Everyone loves their rooster, and I love my rooster too!JACK SPRAT.
Fragments of this tale are common in the nursery, but I have only met with one copy of the following poem, which appears to be of some antiquity, although it is here printed from a modern chap-book:
Fragments of this story are common in the nursery, but I've only come across one copy of the following poem, which seems to be somewhat old, although it is printed here from a modern chap-book:
Jack Sprat couldn't eat any fat,His wife couldn't eat any lean,So, between the two of them,They cleaned the platter.Jack ate all the lean,Joan ate all the fat,They picked the bone clean,Then gave it to the cat.When Jack Sprat was young,He dressed very nicely,He courted Joan Cole,And won her heart.In his fine leather jacket,And old greasy hat,Oh, what a suave guyWas little Jack Sprat!Joan Cole had a holeIn her petticoat,Jack gave her a coinTo buy a patch;The coin bought a patch,Which fixed the hole,"Thank you, Jack Sprat,"Said little Joan Cole.Jack Sprat was the groom,Joan Cole was the bride,Jack said, from the church,His Joan would ride home.But no coach could take her,The lane was too narrow,So Jack said, I'll take herHome in a wheelbarrow.Jack Sprat was wheelingHis wife by the ditch,The barrow tipped over,And she fell in;Jack said, she'll drown,But Joan replied,I don't think I will,Because the ditch is dry.Jack brought Joan home,And she sat in a chair,When his cat came in,It only had one ear.Joan said, I'm home now, Puss,How are you?The cat wagged her tail,And just said "mew."Jack Sprat took his gun,And went to the brook,He shot at the drake,But hit the duck instead.He brought it to Joan,Who started a fireTo roast the fat duck,While Jack went for the drake.The drake was swimmingWith his curly tail,Jack Sprat came to shoot him,But missed his shot;He fired his gun,But missed the target,The drake flew away,Crying, "Quack, quack, quack."Jack Sprat wanted to live well,So he bought a pig,It wasn't too small,And it wasn't too big;It wasn't too lean,And it wasn't too fat,It'll be just right for a squealerFor little Jack Sprat.Then Joan went to the marketTo buy some fowls,She bought a jackdawAnd a couple of owls.The owls were white,The jackdaw was black,They'll make a unique combination,Said little Joan Sprat.Jack Sprat bought a cow,To please his Joan,For Joan could makeBoth butter and cheese;Or pancakes or puddings,Without any fat:A remarkable housewifeWas little Joan Sprat.Joan Sprat went to brewA barrel of ale,She added some hopsSo it wouldn't go stale;But as for the malt,She forgot to add that,This is some fancy sober liquor,Said little Jack Sprat.Jack Sprat went to the market,And bought himself a mare,She was lame on three legs,And as blind as could be;Her ribs were showing,Because the mare had no fat,She looks like a racer,Says little Jack Sprat.Jack and Joan went out,Puss stayed behind to guard the house,She caught a large ratAnd a very small mouse:She caught a small mouse,And a very large rat;You're a great hunter,Says little Jack Sprat.Now I've told you the storyOf little Jack Sprat,And little Joan Cole,And the poor one-eared cat.Now Jack loved Joan,And taught her many good things,Then she gave him a son,And later a daughter.Now Jack has become richAnd has plenty of wealth;If you know any more,You can share it yourself.DABBLING IN THE DEW.
The following pretty ballad appears to be a humorous imitation of an Elizabethan eclogue-song. Its style guarantees its antiquity:
The following charming ballad seems to be a funny take on an Elizabethan eclogue song. Its style confirms its age:
Oh, where are you headed,My lovely young lady?With your rosy red cheeks,And your coal-black hair?I'm off to milk cows,She says, kind sir;And it's splashing in the dew,Where you’ll find me.Can I come with you,My lovely young lady, etc.Oh, you can come with me,She says, kind sir, etc.If I happen to kiss you,My lovely young lady, etc.The wind might take it away again,She says, kind sir, etc.If I happen to lay you down,My lovely young lady, etc.Then you'll have to pick me up again,She says, kind sir, etc.If I happen to run away,My lovely young lady, etc.The devil may then run away with you,She says, kind sir, etc.And what is your father,My lovely young lady, etc.My father is a farmer,She says, kind sir, etc.And what about your mother,My lovely young lady, etc.My mother is a dairy maid,She says, kind sir, etc.And who is your sweetheart,My lovely young lady, etc.William the carpenter,She says, kind sir, etc.——There was an old couple who were poor,Fa la, fa la la lee!They lived in a house with only one door;Oh! what a poor couple they were.The old man went far from home one day,Fa la, fa la la lee!The old woman was too scared to stay alone,Oh! what a fearful woman she was.The old man finally came home,Fa la, fa la la lee!And found the windows and door all locked.Oh! what’s going on? he exclaimed.Oh! I’ve been sick since you left;Fa la, fa la la lee!If you’d been in the garden, you would’ve heard me groan;Oh! I’m sorry to hear that, he replied.I have a favor to ask of you;Fa la, fa la la lee!Please pick me an apple from that tree.Sure, I will, he said.The old man tried to climb the tree,Fa la, fa la la lee!But the ladder fell, and he tumbled down.That’s well done! she said.HEY DIDDLE DIDDLE!
Hey diddle diddle, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__The cat scratched the fiddle,The cow jumped over the moon;The little dog barkedTo see such games played,And the dish ran off with the spoon.Αδ' αδηλα, δηλα δ' αδε,Πως γαλη λυραν ετριβε,Βους δε μηνην ὑπερεπηδα;Κυνιδιον δ' εκλαγξεν, αυ, αυ,Παιδιαν γ' ὁρων τοιανδε,Και τορυνηνΕφυγε καρδοπος λαβων.The unmeaning "Hey diddle diddle" is a corruption of the very intelligible Αδ' αδηλα, δηλα δ' αδε, which is literally "Sing words not clear, and Sing words clear;" with which may be compared a Sibylline verse in Greek, Δηλος αρ' ουκ ετι δηλος; αδηλα δε παντα τα Δηλου.
The meaningless "Hey diddle diddle" is a twisted version of the quite clear Αδ' αδηλα, δηλα δ' αδε, which literally means "Sing unclear words, and sing clear words;" which can be compared to a Sibylline verse in Greek, Δηλος αρ' ουκ ετι δηλος; αδηλα δε παντα τα Δηλου.
[58] The above ingenious translation and remarks were communicated by Mr. George Burges. TOMMY LINN.
Tommy Linn is a Scotsman by birth,His head is bald and his beard is trimmed;He wears a cap made from hare skin,Tommy Linn is an alderman.Tommy Linn doesn't have boots to wear,Just two calf skins with the hair still on.They’re open on the side and let in the water:Unfit boots, says Tommy Linn.Tommy Linn didn’t have a bridle to use,So he put on two mouse tails instead;Tommy Linn had no saddle to ride on,But he used two urchin skins instead.Tommy Linn's daughter sat on the stair,Oh, dear father, am I not beautiful?The stairs broke, and she fell in,You're beautiful enough now, says Tommy Linn.Tommy Linn didn’t have a watch to wear,So he carved out a turnip to make one;He caught a cricket and put it inside;It’s my own clock, says Tommy Linn.Tommy Linn, his wife, and his wife's mother,All fell into the fire at once;Oh, said the one on top, I'm burning hot:It’s even hotter below, says Tommy Linn.An immense variety of songs and catches relating to Tommy Linn are known throughout the country. The air of Thom of Lyn is one of those mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland, 1549. See Chambers, p. 192, who gives a Scotch version of the above song. The song itself is quoted in Wager's play, 'The longer thou livest the more foole thou art,' written about the year 1560. Dr. Leyden conjectures that the hero is the same with Tamlene, who is introduced into a well-known fairy ballad published by Sir W. Scott.
A huge variety of songs and tunes about Tommy Linn are known all across the country. The tune of Thom of Lyn is one of those mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland, 1549. See Chambers, p. 192, who provides a Scottish version of this song. The song itself is quoted in Wager's play, "The longer thou livest the more foole thou art," written around the year 1560. Dr. Leyden suggests that the hero is the same as Tamlene, who appears in a famous fairy ballad published by Sir W. Scott.
THE BEGGARS OF RATCLIFFE FAIR.
As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I came across a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was John, and his wife's namewas Jumping Joan;So there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Richard, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Richard;So there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Robert, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Robert;So there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Rice, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Rice;So there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Jones, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Jones;So there were Jones and Mrs. Ap Jones,And there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Lloyd, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Lloyd;So there were Lloyd and Mrs. Ap Lloyd,And there were Jones and Mrs. Ap Jones,And there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Owen, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Owen;So there were Owen and Mrs. Ap Owen,And there were Lloyd and Mrs. Ap Lloyd,And there were Jones and Mrs. Ap Jones,And there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Lewin, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Lewin;So there were Lewin and Mrs. Ap Lewin,And there were Owen and Mrs. Ap Owen,And there were Lloyd and Mrs. Ap Lloyd,And there were Jones and Mrs. Ap Jones,And there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Shenkyn, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Shenkyn;So there were Shenkyn and Mrs. Ap Shenkyn,And there were Lewin and Mrs. Ap Lewin,And there were Owen and Mrs. Ap Owen,And there were Lloyd and Mrs. Ap Lloyd,And there were Jones and Mrs. Ap Jones,And there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.As I was heading to Ratcliffe Fair, I met a cheerful beggar,Cheerful beggar, his name was Howell, and his wife's namewas Mrs. Ap Howell;So there were Howell and Mrs. Ap Howell,And there were Shenkyn and Mrs. Ap Shenkyn,And there were Lewin and Mrs. Ap Lewin,And there were Owen and Mrs. Ap Owen,And there were Lloyd and Mrs. Ap Lloyd,And there were Jones and Mrs. Ap Jones,And there were Rice and Mrs. Ap Rice,And there were Robert and Mrs. Ap Robert,And there were Richard and Mrs. Ap Richard,And there were John and Jumping Joan,happy companions all.This singular accumulative tale produces great amusement amongst children when rapidly repeated. Mr. Chambers, p. 197, has given a Scotch version, very different from the above, commencing—
This unique collection of stories brings a lot of laughter to kids when told quickly. Mr. Chambers, p. 197, has provided a Scottish version that is quite different from the one above, starting—
The first time I went to Coudingham fair,I met a cheerful beggar;His name was Harry,And he had a wife named Mary:Oh, Mary and Harry, and Harry and Mary,And Janet and John,Those are the beggars one by one;But now I'll give you their names pair by pair,All the brave beggars from Coudingham fair.CONCLUSION.
Our collection of vernacular scraps, which, like the "brave beggars of Coudingham fair," have been gathered from the lanes and by-ways, is now brought to a conclusion. They are, it must be confessed, but literary vagrants at the best; but they breathe of country freshness, and may impart some of their spirit to our languishing home-life. The cottage without its traditional literature is but a poor feature in the landscape that is loved by the poet. The legend or antique rhyme emanating from its door expresses a characteristic he would not willingly see perish. It may be that little of this now remains in England, but the minutest indications should be carefully chronicled ere they disappear.
Our collection of everyday snippets, which, like the "brave beggars of Coudingham fair," have been gathered from the streets and back roads, is now coming to an end. They are, to be honest, just literary drifters at best; but they carry a sense of country freshness, and might infuse some of their energy into our dull home lives. A cottage without its traditional literature is just a sad sight in the landscape that poets cherish. The stories or old rhymes coming from its door reflect a character that shouldn’t be allowed to fade away. There may be little of this left in England now, but we should carefully document even the tiniest signs before they vanish.
Many of the fragments in the preceding pages are, in fact, rather indications of what formerly existed than complete specimens of their class. It is beyond a doubt that, two centuries ago, our rural districts were rich in all kinds of popular and traditional literature, in legends and ancient rhymes. Unfortunately, the antiquaries of the old school considered such matters beneath their notice; and instead of conferring a very important benefit on literature by preserving them, occupied a great portion of their time in essays of very questionable utility. It thus happened that allusions in our old poets, intelligible enough in those days, became enigmas when the memory of these trifles disappeared. We should fall into a similar error did we neglect those which still remain, merely because their value is not always immediately apparent, or be alarmed at a suggestion that we are "suckling fools, and chronicling small beer."
Many of the fragments in the previous pages are really more like signs of what used to exist rather than complete examples of their kind. It's clear that, two centuries ago, our rural areas had a wealth of all kinds of popular and traditional literature, including legends and old rhymes. Unfortunately, the antiquarians of the old school considered such things unworthy of their attention; instead of providing a significant benefit to literature by preserving them, they spent a lot of their time on essays of questionable usefulness. As a result, references in our old poets, which were obvious enough back then, became puzzles when the memory of these small details faded away. We would make a similar mistake if we ignored those that still exist, just because their value isn’t always obvious right away, or if we were put off by the suggestion that we are “nurturing fools and documenting trivialities.”
Let us hope the reader may view these trifles with more indulgence, and enlist his sympathies with our own; for if literary value is insisted upon as the sole use of their publication, the critic may require an abler apologist. He may refuse to admit the importance of preserving a large collection for the sake of the few which may illustrate the works of our ancient authors. But we trust this opinion will not be general; that their natural simplicity will compensate in some respects for deficiency of literary elegance; and that the universal and absorbing prevalence of one pursuit has not put to flight all kindly memory of the recreations of a happier age:
Let’s hope the reader will look at these small pieces with more kindness and feel sympathetic towards us as well; because if we only focus on their literary value as the reason for publishing them, the critic might need a stronger defender. They might argue against the importance of keeping a large collection just for a few pieces that highlight the works of our early authors. But we hope not everyone will think this way; that their natural simplicity will make up for their lack of literary sophistication in some ways; and that the widespread and overwhelming focus on one pursuit hasn’t erased all fond memories of the enjoyable pastimes from a happier time.
The playful sports of our childhood's bright beginningHave slipped away from our hearts like morning dew:We’ve let go of marbles—we own no balls,And we ignore the shout of a "whoop and a call."But there’s an old game that we still play,After we’ve drunk deeply from life’s mixed experiences;Youth may be gone, and adulthood may have arrived,Yet we’re still hard at work on "Tom Tidler’s groundLooking for gold and silver!"FINIS.
FINIS.
C. AND J. ADLARD, PRINTERS, BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE.
C. AND J. ADLARD, PRINTERS, BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE.
Transcriber's Note
Transcriber's Note
Spelling varieties have been maintained.
Spelling variations have been kept.
ERRATUM—P. 181, l. 25, for εσι read εστι—has been corrected—> So says Plato, των ορθως δοθεντων αφαιρεσις ουκ εστι.
ERRATUM—P. 181, l. 25, for εσι read εστι—has been corrected—> So says Plato, the removal of what is correctly given does not exist.
Musical symbols are represented by an Abc-notation. Title: Lavender blue. Time signature: 6/8. Default note length: 1/16. Key: C. The lower notes of a song are shown by UPPERCASE, the higher notes by lowercase letters. Examples: The UPPERCASE letter C is used to describe a sixteenth note of the Middle C (C4 or c'); a lowercase c2 depicts an eighth note of the next higher C (C5 or c"); c3 or G3 each represent a note length of three-sixteenth. Bb is used for a b'flat or Bb note; B marks b'natural.
Musical symbols are represented using Abc notation. Title: Lavender blue. Time signature: 6/8. Default note length: 1/16. Key: C. The lower notes of a song are shown in UPPERCASE, while the higher notes are shown in lowercase letters. Examples: The UPPERCASE letter C is used to represent a sixteenth note of Middle C (C4 or c'); a lowercase c2 represents an eighth note of the next higher C (C5 or c"); c3 or G3 each represent a note length of three sixteenth notes. Bb is used for a b-flat note, and B denotes a B natural.
Download ePUBIf you like this ebook, consider a donation!