 |
"Good parents in good manners do instruct their child, Correcting him when he beginneth to grow wild."
The subject matter of this book also gives a fair view of the customs and habits of the boys of that age. In the character of Moros, a youth enters the stage, "counterfeiting a vain gesture and foolish countenance, singing the 'foote' or burden of many songs, as fools are wont."
Amongst the many rhymes enumerated by Moros, which he claims were taught to him by his mother, occur: "Broome on the hill," "Robin lend me thy bow," "There was a maid came out of Kent," "Dainty love, dainty love," "Come o'er the bourne, Bessie," and
"Tom a Lin, and his wife and his wife's mother, They all went over the bridge together; The bridge was broken and they fell in, 'The devil go with all,' quoth Tom a Lin."
Another version, more particularly the Irish one, runs—
"Bryan O'Lynn, and his wife and wife's mother, All went over the bridge together; The bridge was loose, they all fell in, 'What a precious concern,' cried Bryan O'Lynn.
"Bryan O'Lynn had no breeches to wear, So he got a sheep's skin to make him a pair."
This rhyme is evidently much older than the Tudor age, and one is reminded of the time when cloth and woollen goods were not much used by the lower classes. The Tzigane of Hungary to-day wears his sheep-skin breeches, and hands them down to posterity, with a plentiful supply of quick-silver and grease to keep them soft and clean. "Bye baby bunting" and the little "hare skin" is the other nursery rhyme having a reference to skins of animals being used for clothing. But "Baby bunting" has no purpose to point to, unless indeed the habits of the Esquimaux are taken in account. In the list of nursery songs sung by children in Elizabeth's reign, the following extract from "The longer thou livest the more foole thou art" gives four:—
"I have twentie mo songs yet, A fond woman to my mother; As I war wont in her lappe to sit, She taught me these and many other.
"I can sing a song of 'Robin Redbreast,' And 'My litle pretie Nightingale,' 'There dwelleth a Jolly Fisher here by the west,' Also, 'I com to drink som of you Christmas ale.'
"Whan I walke by myselfe alone, It doth me good my songs to render; Such pretie thinges would soone be gon If I should not sometime them remembre."
To get back again to the true nursery lyrics, one more marriage game of this period is given, entitled—
"WE'LL HAVE A WEDDING AT OUR HOUSE."
"A cat came fiddling out of a barn With a pair of bagpipes under her arm; She could pipe nothing but fiddle-cum-fee, The mouse hath married the bumble-bee. Pipe, cat; dance, mouse; We'll have a wedding at our house."
CHAPTER V.
CAT RHYMES.
The old saying of "A cat may look at the queen" is thus expressed in a dialogue between a ward nurse of Elizabeth's time and a truant tom on its return to the nursery.
"Ward Nurse: Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been?
"Cat: I've been to London to see the queen.
"Ward Nurse: Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there?
"Cat: I frightened a little mouse from under her chair."
No doubt the incident giving rise to this verse had to do with the terrible fright Queen Bess is supposed to have had on discovering a mouse in the folds of her dress—for it was she of virgin fame to whom pussy-cat paid the visit. It has been asked again and again, "Why are old maids so fond of cats?" and "Why are their lives so linked together?" Maybe it is to scare, as did the cat in the rhyme, "a little mouse from under her chair."
* * * * *
"Ten little mice sat down to spin, Pussy looked down, and she looked in. What are you doing, my little men? We're making some clothes for gentlemen. Shall I come in to cut your threads? No, kind sir, you'll bite off our heads."
* * * * *
One more rhyme of Queen Elizabeth's time begins—
"The rose is red, the grass is green, Serve Queen Bess, our noble queen."
* * * * *
"Kitty, the spinner, Will sit down to dinner, And eat the leg of a frog. All the good people Will look o'er the steeple And see a cat play with a dog."
* * * * *
"I love little pussy, her coat is so warm, And if I don't hurt her she'll do me no harm; I won't pull her tail, nor drive her away, But pussy and I together will play."
* * * * *
"Three cats sat by the fireside, In a basket full of coal-dust; One cat said to the other, 'Su pu, pell mell—Queen Anne's dead!' 'Is she?' quoth Grimalkin, 'then I'll reign in her stead.' Then up, up, up, they flew, up the chimney."
* * * * *
"Great A, little b, The cat's in the cupboard And she can't C."
* * * * *
"There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile; He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, she caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together in a little crooked house."
* * * * *
"Ding dong bell, pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Tommy Thin. Who pulled her out? Little Johnny Stout. What a naughty boy was that To drown poor pussy cat!"
Or—
"What a naughty trick was that to drown my granny's pussy cat, Who never did any harm, but caught the mice in father's barn."
CAT TALE OF DICK WHITTINGTON.
This legend of Dick Whittington is of Eastern origin. The story of the poor boy whose ill-fortune was so strangely reversed by the performances of his cat and its kittens finds a parallel in a cat tale found in "Arlott's Italian Novels," published 1485. The Lord Mayor of London bearing the name of Richard Whittington was a knight's son, a citizen of London, and never poor. The possible explanation of the cat in the career of Whittington of London had reference to a coal-boat known as a "cat," and far more likely to make a fortune for the future Lord Mayor than a good mouser would be.
CHAPTER VI.
A CRADLE SONG OF THE FIRST CENTURY.
Many authorities pronounce this lullaby to be of the earliest Christian era. Some believe that in times of yore the Virgin herself sang it to the infant Jesus.
"Sleep, O son, sleep, Thy mother sings to her firstborn; Sleep, O boy, sleep, Thy father cries out to his little child. Thousands of praises we sing to thee, A thousand thousand thousands.
"Sleep, my heart and my throne, Sleep, thou joy of thy mother; Let a soothing, hushed lullaby Come murmuring to thy heavenly ears. Thousands of praises we sing to thee, A thousand thousand thousands.
"May nothing be wanting to thee, With roses I will cover thee, With violet garlands I will entwine thee. Thy bed shall be among the hyacinthus, Thy cradle built up with the petals of white lilies. Thousands of praises we sing to thee, A thousand thousand thousands.
"If thou wishest for music I will instantly call together the shepherds. None are before them, No mortal sings more holy songs. Thousands of praises we sing to thee, A thousand thousand thousands."
If aught be distinct in this early Christian lullaby, it is that old-time ideas of "stars on high," "the sky is full of sleep," and other similar figures of mythical word-pictures are wanting. A mother's sympathy and affection alone bind together the words of her song in illimitable praises—a thousand thousand thousands.
Milton says—
"But see the Virgin blest Hath laid her babe to rest."
What a bright sanctified glory the child King brought to his baby throne.
"Thee in all children, the eternal child. Thee to whom the wise men gave adoration, and the shepherds praise."
What countless hosts of child-bands are ever singing some dreamy lullaby of praise to their child King.
In the pastoral district of Vallauria, in the heart of the Ligurian Alps, within a day's journey from the orange groves of Mentone, a yearly festival takes place, when the children of the mountains sing a stanza recalling the Virgin's song—
"If thou wishest for music I will instantly call together the shepherds. None are before them."
"Lo! the shepherd band draws nigh, Horns they play, Thee, their King, to glorify, Rest thee, my soul's delight."
No lyrics of the nursery have come down to us fashioned after the first-century song of the Virgin. The older types have survived, and in such an unvarying mould have they been cast that there is in each European country's song the same old pagan imagery obstinately repeating itself in spite of Christianity, so that the songs of the Christian Church became exclusively the hymns of her faithful people, the carols of her festivals, and in the Middle Ages the libretto of her Church mystery plays, setting forth her history and doctrines to the lower orders. If one were to remove the obstacles of idiom and grammar in the poetry of France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Switzerland, or even Russia, and expose the subject of the theme, a mere skeleton of past delusions would remain.
Long before modern European nations received this imagery of past credulities the poets of Greece and Rome had versified the same old-time beliefs. Before Rome was founded the Etruscan race, who flourished in what is now modern Tuscany, had the Books of the Tages fashioned in rhythmical mould, from which their traditions, ordinances, and religious teachings were drawn. They believed in genii as fervently as a Persian. Here is one Etruscan legend of the nursery, recalling
"How the wondrous boy-Tages sprang out of the soil just previously turned over by the plough in the fields of Tarquinii, and communicated to Lucamones the doctrines of divination, by sacrifice, by flight of birds, and by observation of the lightning, a son of genius and grandson of Jupiter."—Cic. de Divin. ii. 23.
It was the ancient tale of "Jack and the Beanstalk."
CHAPTER VII.
JACK RHYMES.
In the preceding chapter it was noted how the wondrous boy-Tages was believed in by the ancients. "Jack and the Beanstalk," our modern tale, though adapted to the present age, is the same legend, and known and told in their own way by the Zulus in South Africa and by the Redskin of North America, as well as to other isolated peoples. In these tales of primitive peoples the same wonderful miracle of the soil's fertility takes place, in the one case by the birth of the boy-Tages, in the other by the marvellous growth of the twisting beanstalks which in one night reach up—up—up to the land of the gods and giants. "Jack the Giant Killer," a similar legend but from a Celtic source, was known in France in the twelfth century, and at that period translated into Latin by Geoffrey of Monmouth. Both "Jack and the Beanstalk" and "Jack the Giant Killer" are found in the folk-lore tales of Scandinavia.
ANOTHER JACK OF THE NURSERY CLASSICS
sprang up into being after the wars of Parliament, when the pleasure-hating Puritan gained an ascendency in the land, and when the pastimes of all classes, but more especially those of the lower orders who had been so happy and contented under the Tudor sovereigns, suffered a miserable suspension. They who were in authority longed to change the robe of revel for the shroud. Not only were theatres and public gardens closed, but a war of bigotry was waged against May-poles, wakes, fairs, church music, fiddles, dancing, puppet shows, Whitsun ales—in short, everything wearing the attire of popular amusement and diversion. The rhyme recording Jack Horner's gloomy conduct was, in fact, a satire on Puritanical aversion to Christmas festivities.
"Jack Horner was a pretty lad, near London he did dwell, His father's heart he made full glad, his mother loved him well. A pretty boy of curious wit, all people spoke his praise, And in a corner he would sit on Christmas Holy-days. When friends they did together meet to pass away the time, Why, little Jack, he sure would eat his Christmas pie in rhyme, And say, 'Jack Horner, in the corner, eats good Christmas pie, And with his thumb pulls out a plum, Saying, What a good boy am I.'"
The copy of the history of Jack Horner, containing his witty pranks and the tricks he played upon people from his youth to old age, is preserved in the Bodleian Library.
There are a number of men and women who recall a time when the rhymes of "Jack Horner" and "Jack the Giant Killer" appeared finer than anything in Shakespeare; but this much may be said for "Jack Horner," the cavalier's song of derision at the straight-laced Puritan, that it soon lost its political signification, gradually becoming used as a mark of respect.
"Thus few were like him far and nigh, When he to age was come, As being only fourteen inches high, A giant to Tom Thumb."
CHAPTER VIII.
RIDDLE-MAKING.
Riddle-making is not left alone by the purveyors of nursery yarns, though belonging to the mythologic state of thought. The Hindu calls the sun seven-horsed; so the German riddle asks—
"What is the chariot drawn by?"
"Seven white and seven black horses."
The Greek riddle of the two sisters—Day and Night. Another one given by Diog. Laert. i. 91, Athenagoras x. 451, runs—
"One is father, twelve the children, and born to each other Maidens thirty, whose twain form is parted asunder, White to behold on the one side, black to behold on the other, All immortal in being, all doomed to dwindle and perish."[H]
"The year, months, and days."
* * * * *
An interesting English rhyme says—
"Old mother needle had but one eye, A very long tail which she let fly, Every time she went through a gap She left a bit of her tail in the trap."
"Needle and sewing cotton."
* * * * *
"Purple, yellow, red, and green, The king cannot reach, nor yet the queen, Nor can Old Noll, whose power's so great, Tell me this riddle while I count eight."
"A rainbow."
This nursery rhyme's date is fixed by the reference to Old Noll, the Lord Protector.
* * * * *
"As round as an apple, as deep as a cup, And all the king's horses can't pull it up."
"A well."
* * * * *
"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; Three score men, and three score more, Cannot make Humpty Dumpty as before again."
"An egg."
Or—
"And all the king's horses, and all the king's men, Couldn't put Humpty together again."
Plutarch says of Homer that he died of chagrin, being unable to solve a riddle.
The Ph[oe]nix myth, once believed in by the Egyptian priests, is now, and had even so long ago as in Herodotus' time, degenerated into a mere child-story of a bird, who lived, and died, and rose again from its own ashes. As a relic of a mysterious faith, this fabulous bird has come down to us with diminished glory each century. Old Herodotus, the father of history, tells us that he saw it once—not the bird itself, but a painting of it—at Heliopolis, the City of the Sun, in Egypt. Even this old Greek historian could not quite believe the current story in his day concerning this bird; that it was supposed to revisit the earth after a five-hundred-year sojourn in the land of gods was to him, at least, a little strange. Pliny, the Roman, likewise gives a description of it. "I have been told," he writes, "it was as big as an eagle, yellow in colour, glittering as gold about the neck, with a body-plumage of deep red-purple. Its tail is sky-blue, with some of the pennae of a light rose colour. The head is adorned with a crest and pinnacle beautiful to the sight."
Another ancient retells the story somewhat different to both the Greek and Roman historians. Thus runs the Indian version. Bear in mind, however, before reading it, that, like the Second Stone Age people, it was the habit of many races in India to cremate their dead:—
"A high funeral pyre is erected of dry wood, on which the body of the dead is laid, and in course of time after igniting the faggots the corpse is consumed. While this cineration is going on vultures and carrion fowl not infrequently pounce down upon the body, and tear away pieces of flesh from the ghastly, smoking corpse. These charred parts of the body they carry away to their nests to feast upon at leisure. But oftentimes dire results follow; the home of sun-dried sticks and litter ignites, and the bird is seen by some of the superstitious peasantry to rise up out of fire and smoke and disappear."
Then the Ph[oe]nix fable comes to mind, "It is the sun-god; he has thrown fire and consumed the nest, and the old bird," and they hastily conclude that the bird they just now beheld flying away is a new one, and has, in fact, arisen out of the ashes they witnessed falling from the branches of the tall tree. The Ph[oe]nix in truth!
The German child's rhyme, given by Grimm brothers, of
"Ladybird! ladybird! fly away home,"
is not out of place here. It evidences a state of mythologic thought.
"Ladybird! ladybird! pretty one, stay! Come, sit on my finger, so happy and gay. Ladybird! ladybird! fly away home, Thy house is a-fire, thy children will roam. Then ladybird! ladybird! fly away home. Hark! hark! to thy children bewailing."
Yearly, as these harvest bugs, with their crimson or golden-coloured shields, appear in our country lanes, the village youngsters delight in capturing them, and play a game similar to the German child's. They sing—
"Ladybird! ladybird! fly away home, Your house is on fire, your children will roam, Excepting the youngest, and her name is Ann, And she has crept under the dripping-pan."
FOOTNOTES:
[H] "{heis ho pater, paides de dyodeka; ton de g' hekasto paides easi triekont' andicha eidos echousai; Hei men leukai easin idein; he d' aute melainai Athanatoi de t' eousai apophthinousin hapasai.}"
CHAPTER IX.
NURSERY CHARMS.
To charm away the hiccup one must repeat these four lines thrice in one breath, and a cure will be certain—
"When a twister twisting twists him a twist, For twisting a twist three twists he must twist; But if one of the twists untwists from the twist, The twist untwisting untwists all the twist."
AN ESSEX CHARM FOR A CHURN, 1650 A.D.
"Come, butter, come; come, butter, come, Peter stands at the gate Waiting for his buttered cake; Come, butter, come."
* * * * *
The late Sir Humphry Davy is said to have learnt this cure for cramp when a boy—
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, ease us, I beg! The devil has tied a knot in my leg; Crosses three + + + we make to ease us, Two for the robbers and one for Jesus."
A CHARM AGAINST GHOSTS.
"There are four corners at my bed, There are four angels there. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, God bless the bed that I lay on."
The Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John rhymes were well known in Essex in Elizabeth's time. Ady, in his "Candle after dark," 1655, mentions an old woman he knew, who had lived from Queen Mary's time, and who had been taught by the priests in those days many Popish charms. The old woman, amongst other rhymes, repeated—
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, The bed be blest that I lay on."
This was to be repeated yearly, thrice on Twelfth Night, and it would act as a charm until the following year against evil spirits.
In 1601 a charm in general esteem against lightning was a laurel leaf.
"Reach the bays" (or laurel leaves), "and wear one." "I'll tie a garland here about his head, 'Twill keep my boy from lightning."
Even Tiberius Caesar wore a chaplet of laurel leaves about his neck. Pliny reported that "laurel leaves were never blasted by lightning."
MONEY RHYMES.
"How a lass gave her lover three slips for a tester, And married another a week before Easter."
* * * * *
"Little Mary Esther sat upon a tester, Eating curds and whey; There came a big spider, and sat down beside her, And frightened little Mary Esther away!"
* * * * *
"Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four-and-twenty blackbirds, Baked in a pie.
"When the pie was opened The birds began to sing, Was not that a dainty dish To set before the king?
"The king was in his counting-house, Counting out his money, The queen was in the parlour Eating bread and honey.
"The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes, Then came a little blackbird And snapped off her nose."
In Shakespeare's Twelfth Night Sir Toby alludes to the "Sing a Song a Sixpence," Act II., Sc. 3:—
"Come on, there is a sixpence for you; let's have a song."
In Beaumont and Fletcher's Bonduca it is also quoted.
* * * * *
"There was an old man in a velvet coat, He kiss'd a maid and gave her a groat; The groat was cracked and would not go, Ah, old man, d'ye serve me so?"
* * * * *
"See-saw a penny a day, Tommy must have a new master. Why must he have but a penny a day? Because he can work no faster."
* * * * *
"One a penny, two a penny, hot-cross buns, If your daughters do not like them give them to your sons; But if you should have none of these pretty little elves You cannot do much better if you eat them all yourselves."
Written about 1608:—
"There's never a maiden in the town but she knows that malt's come down; Malt's come down, malt's come down from an old angel to a French crown. The greatest drunkards in the town are very, very glad that malt's come down."
In New York the children have a common saying when making a swop or change of one toy for another, and no bargain is supposed to be concluded between boys and girls unless they interlock fingers—the little finger on the right hand—and repeat the following doggerel:—
"Pinky, pinky bow-bell, Whoever tells a lie Will sink down to the bad place, And never rise up again."
NUMERICAL NURSERY RHYME.
"One, two, buckle my shoe; Three, four, shut the door; Five, six, pick up sticks; Seven, eight, lay them straight; Nine, ten, a good fat hen; Eleven, twelve, who will delve? Thirteen, fourteen, maids a-courting; Fifteen, sixteen, maids in the kitchen; Seventeen, eighteen, maids a-waiting; Nineteen, twenty, my stomach's empty."
BAKER'S MAN.
"Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man. Yes, I will, master, as fast as I can. Prick it and prick it, and mark it with B, And toss it in the oven for baby and me."
CHAPTER X.
SCRAPS.
"Oh, slumber, my darling, thy sire is a knight; Thy mother a lady so lovely and bright. The hills and the dales and the towers which you see, They all shall belong, my dear baby, to thee."
* * * * *
"Bye, baby bumpkin, where's Tony Lumpkin? My lady's on her death-bed, with eating half a pumpkin."
* * * * *
"Nose, nose, jolly red nose. And who gave thee this jolly red nose? Cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves, And they gave me this jolly red nose."
* * * * *
Story-telling in the Reformation period was so prevalent that the wonderful tales were satirised in the following rhyme, dated 1588:—
"I saw a man in the moon. Fie, man, fie. I saw a hare chase a hound. Fie, man, fie. Twenty miles above the ground. Fie, man, fie. Who's the fool now?"
"I saw a goose ring a hog, And a snail bite a dog! I saw a mouse catch a cat, And a cheese eat a rat. Fie, man, fie. Who's the fool now?"
* * * * *
A Henry VIII. rhyme:—
"My pretty little one, my pretty honey one, She is a jolly one, and as gentle as can be; With a beck she comes anon, With a wink and she is gone."
* * * * *
"Peg, Peg, with a wooden leg, Her father was a miller; He tossed a dumpling at her head, And swore that he would kill her."
* * * * *
"Round about, round about Maggotty pie (magpie), My father loves good ale, And so do I."
* * * * *
"Old father long-legs will not say his prayers, Take him by the left leg and throw him downstairs."
* * * * *
"Half a pound of twopenny rice, Half a pound of treacle, Stir it up and make it nice, Pop goes the weasel."
* * * * *
In 1754 mothers used to say to their children—
"Come when you're called, Do what you're bid, Shut the door after you, Never be chid."
A GAME.
"A great big wide-mouth waddling frog, Two pudding ends would choke a dog."
* * * * *
"Little Nanny Natty Coat Has a white petticoat, The longer she lives The shorter she grows."
Answer—A candle.
* * * * *
"As I was going down Sandy Lane I met a man who had seven wives; each wife had a bag, each bag held a cat, each cat a kit. Now riddle-me-ree, how many were going down Sandy Lane?"
Answer—One going down; the others were going up.
* * * * *
"There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth without any bread, And whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed."
* * * * *
"Robert Rowley rolled a round roll round, A round roll Robert Rowley rolled round; Round rolled the round roll Robert Rowley rolled round."
* * * * *
"Little General Monk Sat upon a trunk Eating a crust of bread; There fell a hot coal And burnt into his clothes a hole, Now little General Monk is dead. Keep always from the fire, If it catch your attire You too, like General Monk, will be dead."
MORE FRAGMENTS.
"With hartshorn in his hand Came Doctor Tom-tit, Saying, 'Really, good sirs, It's only a fit.'"
* * * * *
"Cowardly, cowardly custard, Eats his mother's mustard."
* * * * *
"Tommy Trot, a man of law, Sold his bed and lay on straw, Sold the straw and slept on grass To buy his wife a looking-glass."
* * * * *
"Goosey, goosey, gander, Whither shall I wander, Upstairs, downstairs, In my lady's chamber?"
* * * * *
"Dilly, dilly, dilly, dilly, Come here and be killed."
A nursery-tale rhyme of Henry VIII.'s time:—
"The white dove sat on the castell wall, I bend my bow and shoote her I shall; I put hir in my cloue, both fethers and all; I layd my bridle on the shelfe. If you will any more sing it yourself."
* * * * *
"This little pig went to market, This one stayed at home, This one had a sugar-stick, This one had none, And this one cried out wee, wee, wee, I'll tell my mother when I get home."
* * * * *
"Little Bo Peep she lost her sheep, And could not tell where to find them; Let them alone and they'll come home, Carrying their tails behind them."
* * * * *
"See-saw, Margery Daw, sold her bed and lay in the straw; Was not she a dirty slut to sell her bed and lie in the dirt?"
* * * * *
"Four-and-twenty tailors went to kill a snail, The best man among them dare not touch her tail; She put out her horns like a little Kyloe cow, Run, tailors, run, or she'll kill you all e'en now."
* * * * *
"I had a little moppet, I put it in my pocket, And fed it on corn and hay, There came a proud beggar And swore he would wed her, and stole my little moppet away."
* * * * *
"Hub-a-dub dub, Three men in a tub, The butcher, the baker, the candle-stick maker, They all jumped out of a rotten potato."
* * * * *
"Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John Went to bed with his stockings on; One shoe off, one shoe on, Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John."
* * * * *
"Jack and Jyll went up the hill To fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jyll came tumbling after."
* * * * *
"Hi diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon, The little dog laughed to see such fine sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon."
* * * * *
"Baa! baa! black sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir; yes, sir, three bags full, One for the master, another for the maid, And one for the little child that cried in the lane."
* * * * *
"Here comes a poor duke out of Spain, He comes to court your daughter Jane."
* * * * *
"Ride to the market to buy a fat pig, Home again, home again, jiggerty-jig. Ride to the market to buy a fat hog, Home again, home again, jiggerty-jog."
* * * * *
"Cross-patch, draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup and drink it up, And call your neighbours in."
* * * * *
"The man of the South[I] he burnt his mouth By eating cold plum porridge, The man in the moon came down too soon To ask the way to Norwich."
A LANCASHIRE FRAGMENT.
"Dance a babby diddy, What'll th' mammy do wi' thee? Come sit on her lap, theart rosy and fat, Dance a babby diddy."
* * * * *
"Dickery, dickery, dock, The mouse ran up the clock, The clock struck one, The mouse ran down, Dickery, dickery, dock. The clock struck three, The mouse ran away, Dickery, dickery, dock. The clock struck ten, The mouse came again, Dickery, dickery, dock."
* * * * *
"There was an old woman toss'd up in a blanket Ninety-nine times as high as the moon, But where she was going no mortal could tell, For under her arm she carried a broom. 'Old woman, old woman, old woman,' said I, 'Whither, ah! whither, whither so high?' 'Oh, I'm sweeping the cobwebs off the sky, And I'll be with you by-and-by!'"
The wildest idea is suggested by the rhyme of—
"We're all in the dumps, for diamonds are trumps, And the kittens are gone to St. Paul's; All the babies are bit, and the moon's in a fit, And the houses are built without walls."
The economy of the little boy who lived all alone is seen in—
"When I was a little boy I lived by myself, All the bread and cheese I got I put upon the shelf."
* * * * *
"Draw a pail of water For my lady's daughter, My father's a king and my mother's a queen, My two little sisters are dressed up in green."
The baby game of tickling the palm of the hand will be remembered in—
"Round about, round about, runs the little hare, First it runs that way, then it runs up there."
A PROVERB.
"Needles and pins, needles and pins, When you get married your trouble begins; Trouble begins, trouble begins, When you get married your trouble begins."
A COMPLIMENT.
"The rose is red, the violet's blue, Pinks are sweet, and so are you."
THE REVERSE.
"The rose is red, the violet's blue, The grass is green, and so are you."
* * * * *
"Little Tommy Tupper, waiting for his supper, What must he have? Some brown bread and butter."
FOOTNOTES:
[I] South Devon.
CHAPTER XI.
SONGS.
"WILL THE LOVE THAT YOU'RE SO RICH IN."
"There was a little man and he woo'd a little maid, And he said, 'Little maid, will you wed—wed—wed? I have little more to say than will you—Yea or Nay? For the least said is soonest mended—ded—ded—ded.'
"The little maid replied, some say a little sighed, 'But what shall we have for to eat—eat—eat? Will the love that you're so rich in Make a fire in the kitchen, Or the little God of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?'"
* * * * *
"Cock-a-doodle doo, my dame has lost her shoe; My master's lost his fiddling stick and doesn't know what to do. Cock-a-doodle doo, what is my dame to do? Till master finds his fiddling stick she'll dance without her shoe.
"Cock-a-doodle doo, my dame has found her shoe, and master's found his fiddling stick. Sing doodle, doodle doo—Cock-a-doodle doo, My dame will dance with you, While master fiddles his fiddling stick For dame and doodle doo."
The third-century monarch, King Cole, is seriously libelled in the nursery jingle of—
"Old King Cole was a merry old soul, A merry old soul was he, He called for his glass, he called for his pipe, He called for his fiddlers three."
* * * * *
"Rowsty dowt, my fire's all out, My little Dame Trot is not at home! Oh my! But I'll saddle my cock and bridle my hen, And fetch my little dame home again! Home again! Home she came, tritty-ti-trot, She asked for some dinner she left in the pot; Some she ate and some she shod, And the rest she gave to the truckler's dog. She took up the ladle and knocked its head, And now poor dapsy dog is dead!"
* * * * *
"There was a little man and he had a little gun, And his bullets they were made of lead, He went to the brook and shot a little duck Right through its head, head, head.
"He took it home to his wife Joan And bade her a good fire to make, While he went to the brook where he shot the little duck To see if he could shoot the little drake.
"The drake was a-swimming With its curly tail, The little man made it his mark, He let off his gun But fired too soon, And the drake flew away with a quack, quack, quack."
The Creole's slave-song to her infant is built on the same lines, and runs—
"If you were a little bird And myself a gun, I would shoot you. Bum! Bum! Bum!
"Oh! my precious little jewel Of mahogany, I love you As a hog loves mud."
* * * * *
"Some say the devil's dead, And buried in cold harbour; Some say he's alive again, And 'prenticed to a barber."
* * * * *
"I had a little pony, his name was Dapple Grey; I lent him to a lady, to ride a mile away. She whipped him and she lashed him, She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my pony now For all that lady's hire."
* * * * *
"Little Blue Betty, she lived in a den, She sold good ale to gentlemen. Gentlemen came every day, And little Blue Betty she skipped away. She hopped upstairs to make her bed, But tumbled down and broke her head."
TOM, TOM, THE PIPER'S SON.
"Tom, he was a piper's son, He learned to play when he was young; But the only tune that he could play Was 'Over the hills and far away.' Over the hills and a great way off, And the wind will blow my top-knot off.
"Now Tom with his pipe made such a noise That he pleased both the girls and boys, And they stopped to hear him play 'Over the hills and far away.'
"Tom on his pipe did play with such skill That those who heard him could never keep still; Whenever they heard him they began to dance, Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.
"As Dolly was milking the cows one day Tom took out his pipe and began to play; So Doll and the cows danced the Cheshire cheese round, Till the pail was broke and the milk spilt on the ground.
"He met old Dame Trot with a basket of eggs, He used his pipe, she used her legs. She danced, he piped, the eggs were all broke; Dame Trot began to fret, Tom laughed at his joke.
"He saw a cross fellow beating an ass Laden with pots, pans, dishes, and glass; Tom took out his pipe and played a tune, And the jackass's load was lightened full soon."
"OH DEAR, WHAT CAN THE MATTER BE?"
"Oh dear, what can the matter be? Oh dear, what can the matter be? Oh dear, what can the matter be? Johnny's so long at the fair. He promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons To tie up my bonny brown hair."
SIMPLE SIMON.
"Simple Simon went a-fishing For to catch a whale, All the water he had got Was in his mother's pail.
"Simple Simon went to look If plums grew on a thistle, He pricked his fingers very much, Which made poor Simon whistle.
"Simple Simon went to town To buy a piece of meat, He tied it to his horse's tail To keep it clean and sweet."
"I SAW A SHIP A-SAILING."
"I saw a ship a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea, And it was filled with pretty things For baby and for me. There were raisins in the cabin, Sugar kisses in the hold; The sails were made of silk, And the masts were made of gold. Gold—gold—gold! The masts were made of gold.
"There were four-and-twenty sailors A-sitting on the deck, And these were little white mice, With rings around their neck. The captain was a duck, With a jacket on his back, And when the ship began to sail The captain cried 'Quack! quack!' Quack!—quack!—quack! The captain cried 'Quack! quack!'"
DAVID THE WELSHMAN.
"Taffy was a wicked Welshman, Taffy was a wicked thief, Taffy came to my house And stole a piece of beef. I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed, I got the poker And hit him on the head."
Sung in derision along the Welsh borders on St. David's Day. Formerly it was the custom of the London mob on this day to dress up a guy and carry him round the principal thoroughfares. The ragged urchins following sang the rhyme of "Taffy was a wicked Welshman."
"MY FATHER HE DIED."
The historical value of nursery rhymes is incapable of being better illustrated than in the following old English doggerel:—
"My father he died, I cannot tell how, He left me six horses to drive out my plough, With a wimmy lo! wommy lo! Jack Straw, blazey boys. Wimmy lo! wimmy lo! wob, wob, wob."
Mr. Halliwell dates it as of Richard II.'s time, and this much may be said for this opinion, that there is no greater authority than he on the subject of early English rhymes and carols. Mr. Halliwell also believes that of British nursery rhymes it is the earliest extant. There are those, however, who dissent from this view, holding that many of the child's songs sung to-day were known to our Saxon forefathers. In 1835 Mr. Gowler, who wrote extensively on the archaeology of English phrases and nursery rhymes, ingeniously attempted to claim whole songs and tales, giving side by side the Saxon and the English versions. There certainly was a phonetic similarity between them, but the local value of the Saxon, when translated, reads in a strange way, being little more than a protest against the Church's teaching and influence.
"Who killed Cock Robin?" is given at length by Mr. Gowler, as well as many scraps of other nursery rhymes. Mr. Gowler seemed to claim that though the lettered language of each succeeding age fashions afresh, the Baby Kingdom knows no such vocal revolutions.
CHAPTER XII.
SCOTCH RHYMES.
The great and alluring exercise of "Through the needle-e'e, boys" has this immemorial rhyme:—
"As I went up the Brandy Hill I met my father wi' gude will; He had jewels, he had rings, He had many braw things, He'd a cat-and-nine-tails, He'd a hammer wantin' nails. Up Jock, down Tam, Blaw the bellows, auld man, Through the needle-e'e, boys! Brother Jock, if ye were mine, I would give you claret wine; Claret wine's gude and fine, Through the needle-e'e, boys!"
THE SCOTCH VERSION OF BRYAN O'LYNN.
"Tam o' the Lin and a' his bairns Fell n' i' the fire in other's arms! Oh, quo' the bunemost, I ha'e a het skin!! It's hetter below, quo' Tam o' the Lin."
* * * * *
"Cripple Dick upon a stick, Sand your soo, ride away To Galloway To buy a pound o' woo."
* * * * *
"Pan, pan, play, Pan, pan, play, And gi'e the bairn meal, It's gotten nane the day."
* * * * *
"The robin and the wren Are God's cock and hen."
* * * * *
"Gi'e a thing, tak' a thing, Auld man's deid ring; Lie butt, lie ben, Lie amang the dead men."
The above is said by Scotch children as a reproach to one who takes back what he gave.
A GRUESOME RIDDLE.
"I sat wi' my love and I drank wi' my love, And my love she gave me licht; I'll gi'e any mon a pint o' wine That'll read my riddle right."
A person sitting in a chair made of the bones of a relation, drinking out of the skull, and reading by the light of a candle made from the marrow-bones.
* * * * *
Street game rhyme, something like the well-known "How many miles to Wimbledon?":—
"King and Queen of Cantelon, How many miles to Babylon? It's eight and eight and other eight, Try to win these wi' 'candle licht.'"
To discover a particular person in the company wearing a ring, Scotch children of last century used to say—
"Two before 1, and 3 before 5, Now 2, and then 2, and 4 come belive. Now 1, and then 1, and 3 at a cast, Now 1, and twise 2, and Jack up at last."
In the game of Hidee the laddies and lassies cry—
"Keep in, keep in, where'ver ye be, The greedy gled's seekin' ye."
"WHA'S YOUR DADDIE?"
"Little wee laddie, Wha's your daddie? I cam out o' a buskit, lady, A buskit, lady's owre fine; I cam out o' a bottle o' wine, A bottle o' wine's owre dear; I cam out o' a bottle o' beer, A bottle o' beer's owre thick; I cam out o' a gauger's stick, A gauger's stick's butt and ben; I cam out o' a peacock hen."
In Lancashire, where this rhyme is a popular one, the reading differs, "candlestick" being used for "gauger's stick."
"A candlestick is over-fat, I came out of a gentleman's hat; A gentleman's hat is over-tall, I came over the garden wall; The garden wall is over-high, An angel dropped me from the sky."
The Scotch "Old Woman who Lived in a Shoe" is a sad jumble of "Old Mother Hubbard" and "Little Blue Betty."
"There was a wee bit wifie Who lived in a shoe, She had so many bairns She kenn'd na what to do.
"She gaed to the market To buy a sheep's head, When she came back They were a' lying dead.
"She went to the wright To get them a coffin, When she came back They were a' lying laughin'.
"She gaed up the stair To ring the bell, The bell-rope broke, And down she fell."
"THE MOON IS A LADY."
"The moon is a lady who reigns in the sky As queen of the kingdom of night; The stars are her army she leads forth on high As bright little soldiers of light.
"Her captains are Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars, Three glittering warriors bold; And the Milky Way's studded with forces of stars In numbers that cannot be told.
"When Aurora comes up through the Orient gate, And chanticleer crows to the sun, The moon will retire, and the stars in her wake Will follow their queen every one."
R. A. FOSTER.[J]
FOOTNOTES:
[J] When I asked my friend, Robert Adams Foster, whose Boy Ballads are being read with unusual interest in Scotland, to write a Scotch lullaby, he sent me the above verses.
CHAPTER XIII.
A FAVOURITE NURSERY HYMN.
Known to the rustics of England, France, and Italy since the days of the great Charlemagne, has a peculiar history. Like many other rhymes of yore it is fast dying out of memory. The educational influences of the National Schools in the former part of this century, and the Board Schools at a later date, have killed this little suppliant's prayer, as well as most of the other rural rhymes and folk-lore tales handed down by mother to child.
The hymn, though still used in some parts of Northern England, and especially amongst the Nonconformists, as a child's evening ode of praise, runs—
"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon this little child; Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to Thee."
The next verse, a more modern addition, is—
"Fain I would to Thee be brought, Lamb of God, forbid it not; In the kingdom of Thy grace Give this little child a place."
Leo III. is the supposed author of the book in which it is found, viz., Enchiridion Leonis Papae. However, the Enchiridion was a book of magic, and not authorised by the Church of Rome, but used by spurious monks and charlatans, wizards and quacks, in their exploits amongst the credulous rural folk. It was full of charms, prayers, and rhymes to ward off evil spirits. The Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John verses are part of the same "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild." The Enchiridion was first published in 1532. This hymn was, in the main, derived from the White Paternoster, and handed down to posterity and preserved by the rustics.
THE LATIN VERSION OF THE VIRGIN'S LULLABY.
"Dormi fili, dormi! mater Cantat unigenito, Dormi, puer, dormi! pater Nato clamat parvulo: Millies tibi laudes canimus Mille, mille, millies.
"Dormi cor, et meus thronus, Dormi matris jubilum; Aurium c[oe]lestis sonus. Et suave sibilum! Millies tibi laudes canimus Mille, mille, millies.
"Ne quid desit, sternam rosis Sternam f[oe]num violis, Pavimentum hyacinthis Et praesepe liliis Millies tibi laudes canimus Mille, mille, millies.
"Si vis musicam, pastores Convocabo protinus Illis nulli sunt priores; Nemo canit castius Millies tibi laudes canimus Mille, mille, millies."
CHAPTER XIV.
"THERE WAS A MAID CAME OUT OF KENT."
"There was a maid came out of Kent, Dangerous be, dangerous be; There was a maid came out of Kent, Fayre, propre, small, and gent As ever upon the ground went, For so should it be."
Of authentic currency in Mary's time.
* * * * *
"Martin Smart and his man, fodledum, fodledum; Martin Smart and his man, fodledum, bell."
Same date.
* * * * *
"I see the moon, and the moon sees me; God bless the moon, and God bless me."
Child's saying.
* * * * *
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, I caught a hare alive; 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, I let her go again."
Counting-out rhyme.
* * * * *
"Great A was a larm'd at B's bad be haviour, Be cause C D, E, F de nied G a favour; H had a husband with I, J, K and L; M married Mary, and taught her scholars how to spell A B C, D E F G, H I J K L M, N O P Q, R S T U, V W X Y Z, Z, Z."
* * * * *
"Hush-a-by, baby, on a green bock (Saxon for bough); When the wind blows the cradle will rock."
A NURSERY TALE.
"I saddled my sow with a sieve of butter-milk, put my foot into the stirrup, and leaped up nine miles beyond the moon into the land of temperance, where there was nothing but hammers and hatchets and candlesticks, and there lay bleeding Old Noll. I let him lie and sent for Old Hipper Noll, and asked him if he could grind green steel five times finer than wheat flour. He said he could not. Gregory's wife was up a pear tree gathering nine corns of buttered beans to pay St. James's rent. St. James was in a meadow mowing oat cakes; he heard a noise, hung his scythe to his heels, stumbled at the battledore, tumbled over the barn door ridge, and broke his shins against a bag of moonshine that stood behind the stairs-foot door; and if that isn't true, you know as well as I all about it."
* * * * *
"A duck, a drake, a barley cake, A penny to pay the baker; A hop, a scotch, another notch— Slitherum, slitherum, take her."
A verse repeated when playing at skimming shells or stones on the water of a pond or lake.
* * * * *
"Hark! hark! the dogs do bark, The beggars are coming to town. There are some in rags, There are some in tags, And one in a velvet gown."
* * * * *
"Bow-wow-wow, Whose dog art thou? I'm Tommy Tucker's dog, Bow-wow-wow!"
Pope wrote an epigram which he had engraved on the collar of a dog, and gave it to H.R.H.:—
"I am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?"
A B C JINGLES.
"A was an Archer that shot at a frog, B was a Butcher—he had a big dog, C was a Captain all covered with lace, D was a Dunce with a very long face."
"A was an apple pie; B bit it, C cut it, D danced for it, E eat it, F fought for it, G got it, H hid it," etc. etc.
A CATCH RHYME.
"Tottle 'em, bottle 'em, bother aboo, Who can count from one to two?" "I can, I can!" "Do, do." "One and two——" "See, calf, see, That's not two, but three, three." "Three or two's all one to me."
CHAPTER XV.
BELL RHYMES.
The jingle of the bells in nursery poetry is certainly the prettiest of all the features in the poetical fictions of Baby-land.
The oft-repeated rhyme of—
"Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,[K] To see a fair[L] lady upon a white horse; Bells[M] on her fingers and bells on her toes, She will have music wherever she goes,"
has a charm with every child.
The ride of my Lady of Godiva is fancifully suggested by the Coventry version.
* * * * *
"Bell horses, bell horses, what time of day? One o'clock, two o'clock, three and away."
* * * * *
"Gay go up and gay go down To ring the bells of London town.
"Bull's-eyes and targets, say the bells of St. Marg'-ret's; Brick-bats and tiles, chime the bells of St. Giles'; Halfpence and farthings, ring the bells of St. Martin's; Oranges and lemons, toll the bells of St. Clement's; Pancakes and fritters, say the bells of St. Peter's; Two sticks and an apple, say the bells of Whitechapel; Old Father Baldpate, toll the slow bells of Aldgate; You owe me ten shillings, say the bells of St. Helen's; When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey; When I grow rich, chime the bells of Shoreditch; Pray when will that be? ask the bells of Stepney; I'm sure I don't know, tolled the big bell at Bow.
"Gay go up and gay go down To ring the bells of London town."
This almost forgotten nursery song and game of "The Bells of London Town" has a descriptive burden or ending to each line, giving an imitation of the sounds of the bell-peals of the principal churches in each locality of the City and the old London suburbs. The game is played by girls and boys holding hands and racing round sideways, as they do in "Ring a Ring a Rosies," after each line has been sung as a solo by the children in turns. The
"Gay go up and gay go down To ring the bells of London town"
is chorussed by all the company, and then the rollicking dance begins; the feet stamping out a noisy but enjoyable accompaniment to the words, "Gay go up, gay go down."
The intonation of the little vocal bell-ringers alters with each line,
"Pancakes and fritters, say the bells of St. Peter's,"
being sung to a quick tune and in a high key;
"Old Father Baldpate, toll the slow bells of Aldgate,"
suggesting a very slow movement and a deep, low tone.
The round singing of the ancients, of which this game is a fitting illustration, is probably a relic of Celtic festivity. The burden of a song, chorussed by the entire company, followed the stanza sung by the vocalist, and this soloist, having finished, had licence to appoint the next singer, "canere ad myrtum," by handing him the myrtle branch. At all events round singing was anciently so performed by the Druids, the Bardic custom of the men of the wand.
* * * * *
In Lancashire—
"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With cockle shells and silver bells, And pretty maids all in a row,"
is one of the songs the cottage mother sings to her child.
The Provencal—
"Ding dong, ding dong, Ring the bells of St. John's. Now they are saying prayers. Why ring so high? 'Tis the little children in the sky!"
* * * * *
"Maids in white aprons, say the bells of St. Catherine's."
* * * * *
Every locality furnishes examples of bell rhymes. Selling the church bells of Hutton, in Lincolnshire, gave rise to this satire of the children—
"The poor Hutton people Sold their bells to mend the steeple. Ah! wicked people, To sell their bells To build the steeple."
In 1793 Newington Church, London, was pulled down, the bells sold, and the sacred edifice rebuilt without a belfry. The children of the neighbouring parishes soon afterwards jeered at the Newingtonians.
"Pious parson" (they sang), "pious people, Sold their bells to build a steeple. A very fine trick of the Newington people To sell their bells and build no steeple."
In Derbyshire a large number of the churches have bells with peculiar peals—
"Crich has two roller-boulders, Wingfield ting-tangs, Alfreton kettles, And Pentrich pans. Kirk-Hallan candlesticks, Corsall cow-bells, Denby cracked puncheons, And Horsley merry bells."
The bells of Bow Church ringing out the invitation to Dick Whittington to return to his master's house should not be forgotten—
"Turn again, Whit-ting-ton, Lord-Mayor-of London."
In New York, U.S.A., the little school urchins sing a bell rhyme of—
"Hark, the merry bells from Trinity Charm the ear with their musical din, Telling all throughout the vicinity Holy-day gambols are now to begin."
FOOTNOTES:
[K] Or Coventry Cross.
[L] Fine.
[M] Rings.
CHAPTER XVI.
POLITICAL SIGNIFICATIONS OF NURSERY RHYMES.
In 1660, when the Restoration of Charles II. took place, the great procession of State to St. Paul's Cathedral called forth this rhyme:—
"Come, Jack, let's drink a pot of ale, And I shall tell thee such a tale Will make thine ears to ring. My coin is spent, my time is lost, And I this only fruit can boast, That once I saw my king!"
A Roundhead sneer at the man in the street, after the Royalist rejoicings were over.
In a copy of rhyming proverbs in the British Museum, written about the year 1680, occurs the following Puritan satire on Charles II.'s changeability:—
"A man of words and not of deeds, Is like a garden full of weeds; And when the weeds begin to grow, It's like a garden full of snow; And when the snow begins to fall, It's like a bird upon the wall; And when the bird away does fly, It's like an eagle in the sky; And when the sky begins to roar, It's like a lion at your door; And when the door begins to crack, It's like a stick across your back; And when your back begins to smart, It's like a penknife in your heart; And when your heart begins to bleed, You're dead, you're dead, and dead indeed."
Among Marvel's works (vol. i. pp. 434-5) a witty representation of the king's style of speech is given with the jeu d'esprit so distinctively peculiar to Marvel:—
"My proclamation is the true picture of my mind. Some may perhaps be startled and cry, 'How comes this sudden change?' To which I answer, 'I am a changeling, and that's sufficient, I think. But, to convince men further that I mean what I say, these are the arguments. First, I tell you so, and you know I never break my word; secondly, my Lord Treasurer says so, and he never told a lie in his life; thirdly, my Lord Lauderdale will undertake it for me. I should be loath by any act of mine he should forfeit the credit he has with you.'"
In England Charles gave his Royal Indulgence to Dissenters, and granted them full liberty of conscience. They who had been horribly plundered and ill-treated now built meeting-houses, and thronged to them in public. Shaftesbury, who afterwards became a Papist, exclaimed, "Let us bless God and the king that our religion is safe, that parliaments are safe, that our properties and liberties are safe. What more hath a good Englishman to ask, but that the king may long reign, and that this triple alliance of king, parliament, and the people may never be dissolved?" But Charles had a standing army in Scotland, with the Duke of Lauderdale as Lord High Commissioner, and all classes of people in that country were obliged to depose on oath their knowledge of persons worshipping as Dissenters, on penalty of fine, imprisonment, banishment, transportation, and of being sold as slaves. Persecutions of former times were surpassed, the thumbscrew and the boot were used as mild punishments, the rack dislocated the limbs of those who respected conscience, and the stake consumed their bodies to ashes. Villagers were driven to the mountains, and eighteen thousand Dissenters perished, not counting those who were accused of rebellion. He was "a man of words," and the rhyme of this period depicts his whole character.
* * * * *
Two of the courtezans of Charles II.'s time were Lucy Locket and Kitty Fisher. The following rhyme suggests that Kitty Fisher supplanted Lucy Locket in Charles' fickle esteem—
"Lucy Locket lost her pocket, Kitty Fisher found it; Nothing in it, nothing in it, But the binding round it."
On his death-bed the monarch commended the Duchesses of Cleveland and Portsmouth to his successor, and said to James, "Do not let poor Nelly (Nell Gwynne) starve!" Even their pockets were as badly lined as Lucy Locket's.
The hatred of the Roman Catholic religion "had become," said Macaulay, "one of the ruling passions of the community, and was as strong in the ignorant and profane as in those who were Protestants from conviction." Charles II. was suspected by many of leaning towards the Roman Catholic religion. His brother, and heir presumptive, was discovered to be a bigoted Catholic, and in defiance to the remonstrances of the House of Commons had married another papist—Mary of Modena.
The common people apprehended a return of the times of her whom they unreasonably called Bloody Mary. Sons of this marriage, they feared, meant a long succession of princes and kings hostile to the Protestant faith and government by the people. In 1689, when William of Orange became king in James II.'s place, a political squib went off in the style of a nursery lullaby, entitled "Father Peter's policy discovered; or, the Prince of Wales proved a Popish Perkin"—
"In Rome there is a fearful rout, And what do you think it's all about? Because the birth of the Babe's come out! Sing, Lalla by babee, by, by, by."
The Douce MS. contains—
"See-saw, sack a day, Monmouth is a pretie boy, Richmond is another; Grafton is my onely joy, and why should I these three destroy To please a pious brother?"
At the beginning of this present century the renowned Pastorini contributed his share to simple rhyming. A writer in the Morning Chronicle of that period points out Pastorini as being no less a personage than the Right Rev. Charles Walmesley, D.D., a Roman Catholic prelate, whose false prophecies under the name of Pastorini were intended to bring about the events they pretended to foretell—the destruction of the Irish Protestants in 1825. Just previous to this year every bush and bramble in Ireland had this remarkable couplet affixed to it—
"In the year eighteen hundred and twenty-five There shall not be a Protestant left alive."
In 1835, when the efforts of the Whig Ministry to despoil the Irish Church proved so strong, a writer in the Press caricatured Lord Grey, Lyttleton, Dan O'Connell, and Lord Brougham in the following nursery rhymes. The attempt was ingenious, but only of small value as showing the rhymes to be the popular ones of that day.
"There was an old woman, as I've heard tell, She went to the market her eggs to sell."
And—
"Robbin, a bobbin, the big-bellied Ben, He ate more meat than threescore men; He eat a cow, he eat a calf, He eat a butcher and a half; He eat a church, he eat a steeple, He eat the priest and all the people."
The other rhymes were—
"There was an old woman went up in a basket Ninety-nine times as high as the moon, Where she was going I couldn't but ask it, For in her hand she carried a Brougham! Old woman, old woman, old woman, said I, Why are you going up so high? To sweep the cobwebs off the sky, But I'll be with you by-and-by."
* * * * *
"Old Mother Bunch, shall we visit the moon? Come, mount on your broom, I'll stride on the spoon; Then hey to go, we shall be there soon!"
This rhyme was sung at the time in derision to Earl Grey's and Lord Brougham's aerial, vapoury projects of setting the Church's house in order.
"Lord Grey," said the satire-monger, "provided the cupboards and larders for himself and relatives. He was a paradoxical 'old woman' who could never keep quiet."
"There was an old woman, and what do you think, She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink; Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet, And yet this old woman could never keep quiet."
As a prototype of reform this old woman was further caricatured as Madame Reform.
The going "up in a basket ninety-nine times as high as the moon" referred to Lord Grey's command to the English bishops to speedily set their house in order. The ascent was flighty enough, "ninety-nine times as high as the moon, to sweep the cobwebs off the sky"—in other words, to set the Church, our cathedrals and bishops' palaces in order—and augured well; but this old woman journeyed not alone, in her hand she carried a broom (Brougham). It may have been a case of ultra-lunacy this journey of ninety-nine times as high as the moon, and "one cannot help thinking," said a writer of that period, "of the song, 'Long life to the Moon'; but this saying became common, 'If that time goes the coach, pray what time goes the basket?'"
The "Robbin, a bobbin, the big-bellied Ben" parody alluded to Dan O'Connell; the butcher and a half to the Northamptonshire man and his driver; eating "church" and "steeple" meant Church cess.
O'Connell certainly did cut the Church measure about. In his curtailment he would not leave a room or a church for Irish Protestants to pray in.
"Little dog" refers to Lyttleton in the nursery rhyme, for when the under-trafficing came to light, Lord Grey, it is said, was so bewildered at his position that he doubted his own identity, and exclaimed—
"If I be I, as I suppose I be, Well, I've a 'Little dog,' and he'll know me!"
FINIS
Transcriber's Endnote:
The following amendments have been made to the original text:
P. 96. But the stick would not. has been added as line 6 of the poem beginning "There was an old woman swept her house ..." |
|
