Kitabı oku: «Comparative Studies in Nursery Rhymes», sayfa 2

CHAPTER III
RHYMES AND POPULAR SONGS

ON looking more closely at the contents of our nursery collections, we find that a large proportion of so-called nursery rhymes are songs or snatches of songs, which are preserved also as broadsides, or appeared in printed form in early song-books. These songs or parts of songs were included in nursery collections because they happened to be current at the time when these collections were made, and later compilers transferred into their own collections what they found in earlier ones. Many songs are preserved in a number of variations, for popular songs are in a continual state of transformation. Sometimes new words are written to the old tune, and differ from those that have gone before in all but the rhyming words at the end of the lines; sometimes new words are introduced which entirely change the old meaning. Many variations of songs are born of the moment, and would pass away with it, were it not that they happen to be put into writing and thereby escape falling into oblivion.

In Mother Goose's Melody stands a song in six verses which begins: —

 
There was a little man who woo'd a little maid,
And he said: "Little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say, will you? Aye or nay?
For little said is soonest mended, ded, ded."
 

(1799, p. 46.)

Halliwell's collection includes only the first and the fourth verse of this piece. (1842, p. 24.)

In the estimation of Chappell this song was a very popular ballad, which was sung to the tune of I am the Duke of Norfolk, or Paul's Steeple.¹⁴ It appears also in the Fairing or Golden Toy for Children of all Sizes and Denominations of 1781, where it is designated as "a new love song by the poets of Great Britain." Its words form a variation of the song called The Dumb Maid, which is extant in a broadside of about 1678,¹⁵ and which is also included in the early collection of Pills to Purge Melancholy of 1698-1719. The likeness between the pieces depends on their peculiar repeat: —

 
There was a bonny blade had married a country maid,
And safely conducted her home, home, home;
She was neat in every part, and she pleased him to the heart,
But alas, and alas, she was dumb, dumb, dumb.
 

The same form of verse was used in another nursery song which stands as follows: —

 
There was a little man, and he had a little gun,
And the ball was made of lead, lead, lead.
And he went to a brook to shoot at a duck,
And he hit her upon the head, head, head.
 
 
Then he went home unto his wife Joan,
To bid her a good fire to make, make, make,
To roast the duck that swam in the brook,
And he would go fetch her the drake, drake, drake.
 

(1744, p. 43; with repeat, 1810, p. 45.)

Again, a song which appears in several early nursery collections is as follows: —

 
There was an old woman toss'd in a blanket,
Seventeen 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, ah whither, so high?"
To sweep the cobwebs from the sky,
And I'll be with you by and by.
 

(c. 1783, p. 22.)

This song was a favourite with Goldsmith, who sang it to his friends at dinner on the day when his play The Good-natured Man was produced.¹⁶ It was one of the numerous songs that were sung to the tune of Lilliburlero, which goes back at least to the time of Purcell.¹⁷ A Scottish version of this piece was printed by Chambers, which presents some interesting variations: —

 
There was a wee wifie row't up in a blanket,
Nineteen times as hie as the moon;
And what did she there I canna declare,
For in her oxter she bure the sun.
"Wee wifie, wee wifie, wee wifie," quo' I,
"O what are ye doin' up there sae hie?"
"I'm blowin' the cauld cluds out o' the sky."
"Weel dune, weel dune, wee wifie!" quo' I.
 

(1870, p. 34.)

I have come across a verse sung on Earl Grey and Lord Brougham, written in 1835, which may have been in imitation of this song: —

 
Mother Bunch shall we visit the moon?
Come, mount on your broom, I'll stick on a spoon,
Then hey to go, we shall be there soon … etc.
 

Mother Bunch is a familiar character of British folk-lore, who figures in old chapbooks as a keeper of old-world saws, and gives advice in matters matrimonial. One of the earliest accounts of her is Pasquill's Jests with the Merriments of Mother Bunch, extant in several editions, which was reprinted by Hazlitt in Old English Jestbooks, 1864, Vol. III. There are also Mother Bunch's Closet newly broke open, Mother Bunch's Golden Fortune Teller, and Mother Bunch's Fairy Tales, published by Harris in 1802. The name also occurs in Mother Osborne's Letter to the Protestant Dissenters rendered into English Metre by Mother Bunch, 1733. Mother Bunch, like Mother Goose and Mother Shipton, may be a traditional name, for Mother Bunch has survived in connections which suggest both the wise woman and the witch.

Another old song which figures in early nursery collections is as follows: —

 
What care I how black I be?
Twenty pounds will marry me;
If twenty won't, forty shall —
I am my mother's bouncing girl.
 

(c. 1783, p. 57.)

Chappell mentions a song called, What care I how fair she be, which goes back to before 1620.¹⁸ The words of these songs seem to have suggested a parody addressed to Zachary Macaulay, the father of the historian, who pleaded the cause of the slaves. The Bill for the abolition of slavery was passed in 1833, and the following quatrain was sung with reference to it: —

 
What though now opposed I be?
Twenty peers will carry me.
If twenty won't, thirty will,
For I'm His Majesty's bouncing Bill.
 

(N. & Q., 8, XII, 48.)

Another so-called nursery rhyme which is no more than a popular song has been traced some way back in history by Halliwell, who gives it in two variations: —

 
Three blind mice, see how they run!
They all run after the farmer's wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife,
Did you ever see such fools in your life —
Three blind mice!
 

(1846, p. 5.)

In Deuteromalia of 1609 this stands as follows: —

 
Three blind mice, three blind mice!
Dame Julian, the miller and his merry old wife
She scrapte the tripe, take thow the knife.
 

Among the popular songs which have found their way into nursery collections is the one known as A Frog he would a wooing go, the subject of which is old. Already in 1549 the shepherds of Scotland sang a song called, The Frog cam to the Myldur. In the year 1580 there was licensed, A most strange Wedding of the Frog and the Mouse, as appears from the books of the Stationers' Company cited by Warton.¹⁹ The song has been preserved in many variations with a variety of burdens. These burdens sound like nonsense, but in some cases the same words appear elsewhere in a different application, which shows that they were not originally unmeaning.

The oldest known version of the song begins: —

 
It was a frog in the well, humble dum, humble dum,
And the mouse in the mill, tweedle tweedle twino.²⁰
 

The expression humble dum occurs in other songs and seems to indicate triumph; the word tweedle represents the sound made by the pipes.

A Scottish variation of the song begins: —

 
There lived a Puddy in a well, Cuddy alone, Cuddy alone,
There lived a Puddy in a well, Cuddy alone and I.²¹
 

In the nursery collection of c. 1783 the song begins: —

 
There was a frog liv'd in a well, Kitty alone, Kitty alone,
There was a frog liv'd in a well.
There was a frog liv'd in a well, Kitty alone and I.
And a farce mouse in a mill,
Cock me cary, Kitty alone, Kitty alone and I.
 

(c. 1783, p. 4.)

The origin and meaning of this burden remains obscure.

The antiquity and the wide popularity of these verses are further shown by a song written in imitation of it, called A Ditty on a High Amore at St. James, and set to a popular tune, which dates from before 1714. It is in verse, and begins: —

 
Great Lord Frog and Lady Mouse, Crackledom hee, crackledom ho,
Dwelling near St. James' house, Cocki mi chari chi;
Rode to make his court one day,
In the merry month of May,
When the sun shone bright and gay, twiddle come, tweedle dee.²²
 

In the accepted nursery version the song begins: —

 
A frog he would a wooing ride, heigho, says Rowley,
Whether his mother would let him or no,
With a roly-poly, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
 

This burden is said by a correspondent of Notes and Queries to have been first inserted in the old song as a burden by Liston. His song, entitled The Love-sick Frog, with an original tune by C. E. H., Esq. (perhaps Charles Edward Horn), and an accompaniment by Thomas Cook, was published by Goulding & Co., Soho Square, in the early part of the nineteenth century (N. & Q., I, 458). The burden has been traced back to the jeu d'esprit of 1809 on the installation of Lord Grenville as Chancellor of Oxford, which another correspondent quotes from memory: —

 
Mister Chinnery then an M. A. of great parts,
Sang the praises of Chancellor Grenville.
Oh! He pleased all the ladies and tickled their hearts,
But then we all know he's a Master of Arts.
With a rowly, powly, gammon and spinach,
Heigh ho! says Rowley.
 

(N. & Q., 11, 27.)

Another variation of the song of The Frog and the Mouse of about 1800 begins: —

 
There was a frog lived in a well, heigho, crowdie!
And a merry mouse in a mill, with a howdie, crowdie, etc.
 

(N. & Q., 11, 110.)

This expression, heigho, crowdie, contains a call to the crowd to strike up. The crowd is the oldest kind of British fiddle, which had no neck and only three strings. It is mentioned as a British instrument already by the low Latin poet Fortunatus towards the close of the sixth century: "Chrotta Britannia canat." The instrument is well known to this day in Wales as the crwth.

The word crowdy occurs also as a verb in one of the numerous nursery rhymes referring to scenes of revelry, at which folk-humour pictured the cat making music: —

 
Come dance a jig to my granny's pig,
With a rowdy, rowdy, dowdy;
Come dance a jig to my granny's pig,
And pussy cat shall crowdy.
 

(1846, p. 141.)

This verse and a number of others go back to the festivities that were connected with Twelfth Night. Some of them preserve expressions in the form of burdens which have no apparent sense; in other rhymes the same expressions have the force of a definite meaning. Probably the verses in which the words retain a meaning have the greater claim to antiquity.

Thus among the black-letter ballads is a song²³ which is found also in the nursery collection of 1810 under the designation The Lady's Song in Leap Year.

 
Roses are red, diddle diddle, lavender's blue,
If you will have me, diddle diddle, I will have you.
Lillies are white, diddle diddle, rosemary's green,
When you are king, diddle, diddle, I will be queen.
Call up your men, diddle, diddle, set them to work,
Some to the plough, diddle, diddle, some to the cart.
Some to make hay, diddle, diddle, some to cut corn,
While you and I, diddle, diddle, keep the bed warm.
 

(1810, p. 46.)

Halliwell cites this song in a form in which the words are put into the lips of the king, and associates it with the amusements of Twelfth Night: —

 
Lavender blue, fiddle faddle, lavender green.
When I am king, fiddle faddle, you shall be queen, etc.
 

(1849, p. 237.)

The expression diddle diddle according to Murray's Dictionary means to make music without the utterance of words, while fiddle faddle is said to indicate nonsense, and to fiddle is to fuss. But both words seem to go back to the association of dancing, as is suggested by the songs on Twelfth Night, or by the following nursery rhyme which refers to the same celebration.

 
A cat came fiddling out of the barn,
With a pair of bagpipes under her arm,
She could sing nothing but fiddle cum fee,
The mouse has married the humble bee;
Pipe, cat, dance, mouse;
We'll have a wedding in our good house.
 

(1842, p. 102.)

The following variation of this verse occurs in the Nursery Songs published by Rusher: —

 
A cat came fiddling out of a barn,
With a pair of bagpipes under her arm,
She sang nothing but fiddle-de-dee,
Worried a mouse and a humble bee.
Puss began purring, mouse ran away,
And off the bee flew with a wild huzza!
 

In both cases the cat was fiddling, that is moving to instrumental music without the utterance of words, and called upon the others to do so while she played the pipes. Her association with an actual fiddle, however, is preserved in the following rhyme which I cite in two of its numerous variations: —

 
Sing hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle,
The cow jump'd over the moon!
The little dog laughed to see such sport,
And the dish lick't up the spoon.
 

(1797, cited by Rimbault.)

 
Sing hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed to see such craft,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
 

(c. 1783, p. 27.)

This rhyme also refers to the revelry which accompanied a feast, probably the one of Twelfth Night also.

CHAPTER IV
RHYMES IN TOY-BOOKS

MANY of our longer nursery pieces first appeared in print in the diminutive toy-books already described, which represent so curious a development in the literature of the eighteenth century. These books were sometimes hawked about in one or more sheets, which were afterwards folded so as to form a booklet of sixteen, thirty-two, or sixty-four pages. Others were issued sewn and bound in brilliant covers, at a cost of as much as a shilling or eighteen pence. Usually each page contained one verse which was illustrated by an appropriate cut. In the toy-books which tell a consecutive story, the number of verses of the several pieces seem to have been curtailed or enlarged in order to fit the required size of the book.

It is in these toy-books that we first come across famous nursery pieces such as the Alphabet which begins: —

 
A was an Archer, who shot at a frog,
B was a blind man, and led by a dog … etc.
 

This first appeared in A Little Book for Little Children by T. W., sold at the Ring in Little Britain. It contains a portrait of Queen Anne, and probably goes back to the early part of the eighteenth century.

The Topbook of all, already mentioned, which is of about 1760, contains the oldest version that I have come across of the words used in playing The Gaping, Wide-mouthed, Waddling Frog, each verse of which is illustrated by a rough cut. Again, The Tragic Death of A, Apple Pie, which, as mentioned above, was cited as far back as 1671, forms the contents of a toy-book issued by J. Evans about the year 1791 at the price of a farthing. The Death and Burial of Cock Robin fills a toy-book which was published by J. Marshall, London, and again by Rusher at Banbury; both editions are undated. Again The Courtship, Marriage, and Picnic Dinner of Cock Robin and Jenny Wren form the contents of a toy-book dated 1810 and published by Harris, and The Life and Death of Jenny Wren appeared in a toy-book dated 1813, issued by J. Evans.

Another famous toy-book contained The Comic Adventures of Old Mother Hubbard and her Dog. This story was first issued in toy-book form by J. Harris, "successor to E. Newbery at the corner of St. Paul's Churchyard," probably at the beginning of 1806, at the cost of eighteen pence. A copy of the second edition, which mentions the date 1 May, 1806, is at the British Museum. It contains the words "to T. B. Esquire, M.P. county of XX, at whose suggestion and at whose house these notable sketches were first designed, this volume is with all suitable deference dedicated by his humble servant S. C. M." The coffin which is represented in one of the cuts in the book bears the initials S. C. M., and the date 1804. This inscribing of the author's initials on a coffin is quite in keeping with the tone of toy-book literature.

In October, 1805, J. Harris had published Whimsical Incidents, or the Power of Music, a poetic tale by a near relation of Old Mother Hubbard, which has little to recommend it, and contains nothing on the dog. On its first page stands a verse which figures independently as a nursery rhyme in some later collections: —

 
The cat was asleep by the side of the fire,
Her mistress snor'd loud as a pig,
When Jack took the fiddle by Jenny's desire,
And struck up a bit of a jig.
 

(1810, p. 33.)

J. Harris also published in March, 1806, Pug's Visit, or the Disasters of Mr. Punch, a sequel to the Comic Adventures of Mother Hubbard and her Dog. This has a dedication framed in the same style, "To P. A. Esquire … by his humble servant W. F."

The success of the Comic Adventures of Mother Hubbard and her Dog was instantaneous and lasting. In The Courtship of Jenny Wren, which is dated 1810, while its cuts bear the date 1806, Parson Rook is represented carrying "Mother Hubbard's book," and a foot-note is added to the effect that "upwards of ten thousand copies of this celebrated work have been distributed in various parts of the country in a few months." The Comic Adventures were read all over London and in the provinces, both in the original and in pirated editions, of which I have seen copies issued by J. Evans of Long Lane, West Smithfield; by W. S. Johnson of 60 St. Martin's Lane; by J. Marshall of Aldermary Churchyard; and by others. A very diminutive toy-book containing verses of the tale of Mother Hubbard, illustrated with rough cuts, is on view at South Kensington Museum among the exhibits of A. Pearson. I do not know its publisher.

The Comic Adventures of Mother Hubbard are usually told in fourteen verses, which refer to the dame's going to the cupboard, to her going for bread, for a coffin, for tripe, beer, wine, fruit, a coat, a hat, a wig, shoes, hose, and linen. The story ends: —

 
The dame made a curtsey, the dog made a bow,
The dame said, "Your servant," the dog said "Bow-wow."
 

But some editions have an additional rhyme on the dame's going for fish; and the edition at South Kensington has the verse: —

 
Old Mother Hubbard sat down in a chair,
And danced her dog to a delicate air;
She went to the garden to buy him a pippin,
When she came back the dog was skipping.
 

In the edition of Rusher, instead of "the dog made a bow," we read "Prin and Puss made a bow."

In Halliwell's estimation the tale of Mother Hubbard and her dog is of some antiquity, "were we merely to judge," he says, "of the rhyme of laughing to coffin in the third verse."

 
She went to the undertaker's to buy him a coffin,
When she came back the poor dog was laughing.
 

But it seems possible also that the author of the poem had running in his mind a verse containing this rhyme, which occurs already in the Infant Institutes of 1797, where it stands as follows: —

 
There was a little old woman and she liv'd in a shoe,
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She crumm'd 'em some porridge without any bread
And she borrow'd a beetle, and she knock'd 'em all o' th' head.
Then out went the old woman to bespeak 'em a coffin
And when she came back she found 'em all a-loffing.
 

This piece contains curious mythological allusions, as we shall see later.

It may be added that the nursery collection of 1810 (p. 37) contains the first verse only of Mother Hubbard, which favours the view expressed by Halliwell, that the compiler of the famous book did not invent the subject nor the metre of his piece, but wrote additional verses to an older story.

The association of Mother Hubbard and the dog may be relatively new, but the name Mother Hubbard itself has some claim to antiquity. For a political satire by Edmund Spenser was called Prosopopeia or Mother Hubberd's Tale. It was a youthful effort of the poet, and was soon forgotten. In this piece "the good old woman was height Mother Hubberd who did far surpass the rest in honest mirth," and who related the fable of the fox and the ape. Also Thomas Middleton in 1604 published Father Hubburd's Tale, or the Ant and the Nightingale, in the introduction to which he addressed the reader as follows: – "Why I call these Father Hubburd's tales, is not to have them called in again as the Tale of Mother Hubburd. The world would shew little judgment in that i' faith; and I should say then plena stultorum omnia; for I entreat (i. e. treat) here neither of rugged (i. e. ragged) bears or apes, no, nor the lamentable downfall of the old wife's platters – I deal with no such metal … etc."

We do not know that Spenser's tale was "called in again," nor does it mention ragged bears and platters. Middleton must therefore be referring to a different production to which obstruction was offered by the public authorities. In any case the name of Mother Hubburd, or Hubbard, was familiar long before the publication of the story of the dame and her dog.

Father Hubberd, who is mentioned by Middleton, figures in nursery lore also. A rhyme is cited which mentions him in connection with the traditional cupboard: —

 
What's in the cupboard? says Mr Hubbard;
A knuckle of veal, says Mr Beal;
Is that all? says Mr Ball;
And enough too, says Mr Glue;
And away they all flew.
 

(N. & Q., 7, IV, 166.)

Were they figured as cats?

The form of verse of this piece on Father Hubbard reproduces the chiming of bells. The same form of verse is used also in the following: —

 
"Fire! Fire!" says the town-crier;
"Where, where?" says Goody Blair;
"Down the town," said Goody Brown;
"I'll go and see't," said Goody Fleet,
"So will I," said Goody Fry.
 

(1890, p. 315.)

The old play of Ralph Roister Doister, written about the year 1550, ends with a "peele of bells rung by the parish clerk," which is in the same form of verse: —

 
First bell: When dyed he, when dyed he?
Second bell: We have him! We have him!
Third bell: Roister doister, Roister doister.
Fourth bell: He cometh, he cometh.
Great bell: Our owne, our owne.