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CHAPTER XI
CUMULATIVE PIECES
WE now turn to rhymes which dwell on different ideas and present life under other aspects. In these rhymes there is much on spells, on the magic properties of numbers, and on sacrificial hunting. A fatalistic tendency underlies many of these rhymes, and there are conscious efforts to avert danger.
The different range of ideas which are here expressed is reflected in the form of verse in which they are presented. While the rhymes hitherto discussed are set in verse which depends for its consistency on tail rhyme and assonance, the pieces that deal with the magic properties of things and with hunting, are mostly set in a form of verse that depends for its consistency on repetition and cumulation. This difference in form is probably due to the different origin of these pieces. Rhymed verse may have originated in dancing and singing – cumulative verse in recitation and instruction.
In cumulative recitation one sentence is uttered and repeated, a second sentence is uttered and repeated, then the first sentence is said; a third sentence is uttered and repeated, followed by the second and the first. Thus each sentence adds to the piece and carries it back to the beginning. Supposing each letter to stand for a sentence, the form of recitation can thus be described: A, a; B, b, a; C, c, b, a; D, d, c, b, a; etc. This manner of recitation is well known among ourselves, but I know of no word to designate it. In Brittany the form of recitation is known as chant de grénouille, i.e. frog-chant. A game of forfeits was known in the eighteenth century, which was called The Gaping Wide-mouthed Waddling Frog, in which the verses were recited in exactly the same manner. We shall return to it later. A relation doubtless exists between this game and the French expression frog-chant.
Among our most familiar pieces that are set in cumulative form are The Story of the Old Woman and Her Pig and This is the House that Jack built. They both consist of narrative, and are told as stories. This is the House that Jack built first appeared in print as a toy-book that was issued by Marshall at his printing office, Aldermary Churchyard. It is illustrated with cuts, and its date is about 1770. Perhaps the story is referred to in the Boston News Letter (No. 183) of 12-19 April, 1739, in which the reviewer of Tate and Brady's Version of the Psalms remarks that this "makes our children think of the tune of their vulgar playsong so like it: this is the man all forlorn." The sentence looks like a variation of the line "this is the maiden all forlorn" in This is the House that Jack built.
In 1819 there was published in London a satire by Hone, called The Political House that Jack built. It was illustrated by Cruikshank, and went through fifty-four editions. In form it imitates the playsong, which was doubtless as familiar then as it is now.
The playsong in the form published by Marshall begins: —
This is the house that Jack built, —
This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built, —
This is the rat that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built, —
which is followed by the cat that killed the rat – the dog that worried the cat – the cow that tossed the dog – the maiden that milked the cow – the man that kissed the maid – the priest that married them. Here it ended. But a further line added by Halliwell (1842, p. 222) mentioned the cock that crowed on the morn of the wedding-day, and a lady of over seventy has supplied me with one more line, on the knife that killed the cock. She tells me that she had the story from her nurse, and that she does not remember seeing it in print. The version she repeated in cumulative form, told to me, ended as follows: —
This is the knife with a handle of horn,
that killed the cock that crowed in the morn,
that wakened the priest all shaven and shorn,
that married the man all tattered and torn,
unto the maiden all forlorn,
that milked the cow with a crumpled horn,
that tossed the dog over the barn,
that worried the cat that killed the rat
that ate the malt that lay in the house
that Jack built.
The greater part of this piece consists of rhymed verse, and deals with matters of courtship. The idea of a cock sacrificed on the wedding-day is certainly heathen in origin, but its introduction forms a new departure when we come to compare this piece with its foreign parallels and with the story of The Old Woman and Her Pig. These pieces are all set in the same form, and all introduce a regular sequence of relative powers.
The Old Woman and Her Pig was first printed by Halliwell (1842, p. 219). It tells how the woman found sixpence, and how she set out for market, and bought a pig which on the way back refused to jump over the stile. In order to break the spell that had fallen on it, she summoned to her aid: dog – stick – fire – water – ox – butcher – rope – rat – cat – cow. The cow finally gave the milk required by the cat, which set the other powers going, and thus enabled the woman to get home that night. Halliwell was impressed by the antiquity of this sequence, and included in his collection a translation of a Hebrew chant which has considerable likeness to the tale of The Old Woman and Her Pig. This chant is told in the first person. It begins: —
A kid, a kid my father bought
For two pieces of money,
A kid, a kid
Then came the cat and ate the kid,
That my father bought,
For two pieces of money.
A kid, a kid
(1842, p. 6.)
It further introduces dog – staff – fire – water – ox – butcher – angel of death – Holy One.
The Hebrew chant of the kid was printed in Venice as far back as 1609, and was made the subject of the learned Latin dissertation De Haedo by Probst von der Hardt in 1727 (R., p. 153). It was again discussed by P. N. Leberecht in 1731.51 The chant forms part of the Jewish liturgy, and is still recited in the original Hebrew or in the vernacular as part of a religious ceremonial at Easter. Opinions on the origin and the meaning of the chant differ. One learned rabbi interpreted it as setting forth how each power in creation is kept within bounds by a power that stands above it. It teaches how he who goes wrong is at the mercy of one stronger than himself. But according to another interpretation the Father who bought the kid was Jehovah himself, the kid was the Hebrew, the cat represented the Assyrians, the dog the Babylonians, and so forth; and the whole poem described the position of the Jews at the time of the Crusades.
The Hebrew chant and its relation to The Old Woman and her Pig engaged the attention of Professor Tylor, who remarked on the solemn ending of the Hebrew chant, which according to him may incline us to think that we really have before us this composition in something like its first form. "If so," he says, "then it follows that our familiar tale of the Old Woman who couldn't get the kid (or pig) over the stile, must be considered as a broken-down adaptation of this old Jewish poem."52
But the tale of the Old Woman taken in conjunction with This is the House that Jack built and its numerous foreign parallels, shows that these sequences of relative powers, far from being broken-down adaptations, are at least as meaningful as the Hebrew chant. For the underlying conception in all cases is that a spell has fallen on an object which man is appropriating to his use. The spell extends to everything, be it man or beast, that comes within the range of its influence, and the unmaking of the spell necessitates going back step by step to the point at which it originated.
Halliwell compared a piece current in Denmark with This is the House that Jack built: —
Der har du det haus som Jacob bygde.
"Here hast thou the house that Jacob built."53
Many other versions of this tale are current in Germany and Scandinavia. In them it is sometimes a question of a house, sometimes of corn, oftenest of cutting oats or of garnering pears. The cumulative form is throughout adhered to. One German piece called Ist alles verlorn, "all is lost," begins: —
Es kam eine Maus gegangen
In unser Kornehaŭs,
Die nahm das Korn gefangen,
In ŭnserm Kornehaŭs.
Die Maus das Korn,
Ist alles verlorn
In ŭnserm Kornehaŭs.
(Sim., p. 256.)
"There came a mouse into our corn-house, she seized the corn in our corn-house. The mouse, the corn, now all is lost in our corn-house."
The other powers are rat, cat, fox, wolf, bear, man, maid. This piece, like This is the House that Jack built, ends abruptly.
Among the less primitive variations of the tale is one recorded in Sonneberg (S., p. 102), and another in the north of France, which both substitute the name of Peter for that of Jack, that is a Christian name for a heathen one. In France the piece is called La Mouche, literally "the fly," but its contents indicate that not mouche but the Latin mus (mouse) was originally meant. The tale departs from the usual form, and has a refrain: —
Voici la maison que Pierre a bâtie,
Il sortait un rat de sa raterie,
Qui fit rentrer la mouch' dans sa moucherie:
Rat à mouche,
Belle, belle mouche
Jamais je n'ai vu si belle mouche.
(D.B., p. 116.)
"This is the house that Peter built. A rat came out of a rat-hole, and made the fly go into the fly-hole. Rat to fly, lovely fly, never saw I so lovely a fly."
The other powers are dog, bear, man, maid, abbot, pope, devil.
The same tale is told in Austria (V., p. 113), and in Prussia (F., p. 197), where it is called Das Haus vom hölzernen Mann, "the house of the wooden Man." In Prussia it is recited as a game of forfeits. The sequence of the powers in the one version is house, door, lock, band, mouse, cat, dog, stick, fire, water, ox, butcher, devil; and in the other, house, door, lock, band, mouse, cat, huntsman.
Jack in Germany is called Jockel, Jöggeli, Jokele. The Master who sent out Jockel is mentioned already in the Gargantua of Fischart, which was published in 1575 (Chap. XXV.). The name Jack among ourselves is applied to a person or an object of peculiar serviceableness, as in Jack-of-all-trades, or boot-jack. But in Germany the expression "to send Jockel on an errand" implies that this will never get done.
In Vogtland the current nursery version of this piece begins: —
Es schickt der Herr den Gȏkel 'naus,
Er soll den Haber schneiden.
(Du., p. 35.)
"The master sent out Gokel to cut oats."
As he failed to come back, dog, fire, water, ox, butcher, hangman, devil, were sent after him.
In Swabia Jokele (Br., p. 44), and in Switzerland Joggeli, was sent to knock off pears on which a spell had fallen. The chant in Zürich has been traced back to the year 1769, and it begins: —
Es ist ein Baum im Gärtle hinne,
d' Birren wänd nüd fallen.
Do schückt de Bur de Joggeli usen
Er soll di Birren schütteln.
(R., p. 155.)
"There is a tree in the garden, its pears will not drop. The peasant sent out Joggeli to knock them off."
But the pears refused to be knocked off, and the usual sequence of powers was sent to secure them.
The tale of Jack was current in Münster in Westphalia also, where it was taken over by the Church, and annually recited at the religious procession which took place on the eve of the feast of St. Lambert, 17 September. This was done as late as the year 1810 (R., p. 155). The recitation was followed or accompanied by a dance, the purpose of which is not recorded. Perhaps the procession stood in relation to the actual garnering of pears, and the tale was recited in order to secure a good harvest. In this case not Jack, but der Jäger, "the huntsman," was dispatched to knock the pears off, and the sequence of powers included dog, stick, fire, water, calf, butcher, hangman, devil.
This adoption by the Church of the sequence of powers shows that we have to do with the remains of a heathen ritual, which found its way into a Christian celebration, as the tale of the kid found its way into the Easter celebration of the Jewish Church. In both instances the sequence of relative powers is preserved, and in both it is question of making an object secure for the use of man.
The same sequence of powers is preserved also in the traditional game that is known as Dump among ourselves (1894, I, 117; II, 419), and as Club Fist in America (N., p. 134). In this game it is also a question of building a house, and of knocking off pears. The action of the players, however, stands in no obvious relation to the words that are used. Sometimes three, sometimes a number of lads, crowd together and place their fists sideways one on the other, till they form a pile of clenched hands. The last boy, who has a fist free, knocks off the fists one by one, saying: —
(In Yorkshire) What's this? – (Answer) Dump.
(In America) What's that? – (Answer) A pear.
Take it off or I'll knock it off.
In Shropshire all sing together: —
I've built my house, I've built my wall;
I don't care where my chimneys fall.
When all the fists are knocked down, the following dialogue ensues: —
What's there? – Cheese and bread and a mouldy half-penny.
Where's my share? – I put it on the shelf, and the cat got it.
Where's the cat? – She's run nine miles through the wood.
Where's the wood? – T' fire burnt it.
Where's the fire? – T' water sleckt it.
Where's the water? – T' ox drunk it.
Where's the ox? – T' butcher killed 'em.
Where's the butcher? – Upon the church-top cracking nuts, and you may go and eat the shells; and them as speak first shall have nine nips, nine scratches, and nine boxes on the ear.
(1849, p. 128.)
Silence falls, all try not to laugh, and he who first allows a word to escape him, is punished by the others in the methods adopted by schoolboys. In the Scottish game the punishment is described as "nine nips, nine nobs, nine double douncornes, and a good blow on the back."
In France the same game is known as Le Pied de Bœuf, "the foot of the ox," and a scramble of fists starts at the words: —
Neuf, je tiens mon pied de bœuf.
(Mo., p. 351.)
"Nine, I hold my ox's foot";
the number nine in this case being also mentioned.
The meting out of punishments by nines goes far back in history. It was associated with a Yule-tide sport which is still practised in Denmark and in Schleswig, and is known as Ballerrune or Balderrune. Every member of the assembled company repeated a formula on "Balder Rune and his wife," and he who made a mistake received nine blows, as in our game. The custom was explained by the legend that the god Balder, incensed at his wife's loquacity, chastised her by giving her nine blows, and ordered that this should be repeated every year, so that women be reminded that it is their duty to be silent when their husbands speak (H., p. 44).
In the game of Dump also, it is the person who speaks first that is punished, but there is nothing to suggest that this was a woman, for the game is essentially a boys' game.
The story of The Woman and her Pig (or Kid), like that of Jack, is told over a wide geographical area. In the Scottish version the woman lived in a wee house and found two pennies and bought a kid. On coming home she saw a bush and wished to pull off its berries, and could not. She set the kid to watch the house, and went to seek the help of dog, stick, fire, water, ox, axe, smith, rope, mouse, cat, milk, in her hope of breaking the spell that had fallen on the bush. Each animal or object refused "to do the next one harm, saying that it never did it any harm itself"; but the cat finally could not resist the temptation of lapping the milk (1870, p. 57). Thus the tale introduced a moral element which is not found elsewhere.
In Sweden the tale of The Old Woman and her Pig is called Konen och Grisen Fick, "the woman and her pig Fick," and the pig refused to leave off eating acorns. A similar tale is called Gossen och Geten Näppa, "the lad and the kid Näppa," (1849, p. 6). In Elsass the pig is called Schnirrchele (St., p. 93), in Transylvania it is Mischka or Bitschki (Sch., p. 372). And a version from the north of France tells how Biquette got into a cabbage-patch from which stick, fire, water, were summoned to expel her. Biquette is described as a kid (D., p. 122). In Languedoc Biquette reappears as Bouquaire-Bouquil, who is furnished with horns and does havoc in a millet-field from which he is expelled with the help of wolf, dog, stick, fire, water, ox, rope (M. L., p. 538). In all cases the animal is one that is provided with horns. Millet is one of the oldest cereals that were cultivated in Europe, the displacement of which by the cultivation of corn had begun in England when Pytheas visited these shores in the fourth century B.C. Can the "malt" of This is the House that Jack built stand for millet?
A French piece is current in Remiremont which is called Le Conjurateur et le Loup, "the magician and the wolf." It describes the contest between them, and shows that the making and unmaking of spells is involved: —
L'y a un loup dedans le bois,
Le loup ne veut pas sortir du bois.
Ha, j' te promets, compèr' Brocard,
Tu sortiras de ce lieu-là.
(R., p. 152.)
"There is a wolf in the wood, the wolf will not come out of the wood. Ha, I promise you, brother Brocard, you will soon come out."
And the magician summons to his assistance stick, fire, water, calf, butcher, devil, which help him to expel the wolf.
Even more primitive than this tale is one current in Languedoc, in which a spell has fallen on a root or turnip, which is finally raised by the hog. It begins: "The old woman went into the garden in order to pull out a turnip. When the old man saw that the old woman did not come back, he went into the garden and saw the old woman pulling at the turnip. The old man pulled at the old woman, the old woman pulled at the turnip, but the turnip stuck fast." They were followed by daughter-in-law, son, man, maid, and so forth, including the cat and the rat. Finally the hog came to the rescue. Instead of pulling like the others, he attacked the turnip from below, and by doing so he succeeded in raising it, otherwise the spell would continue, "and the root would still be holding fast" (M. L., p. 541).
The comparison of these various tales or pieces shows that dog, stick, fire, water, ox, butcher, form a sequence of powers that was accepted over a wide geographical area. They were invoked wherever it was question of breaking a spell that had fallen on a coveted object, the object including pigs, pears, oats, berries, millet, and roots. These are products that were prized in Europe from a remote period in antiquity. As the products are primitive, so probably is the form of verse in which the story is told of their being made fast. For the same form of verse is used in a further class of pieces to which we now turn, and which, by their contents, betray a pre-Christian origin.
CHAPTER XII
CHANTS OF NUMBERS
AMONG our traditional games, some consist of a dialogue in which the answer is set in cumulative form. These include the game known as The Twelve Days of Christmas, which was played on Twelfth-Day night by the assembled company before eating mince-pies and twelfth cake. In the game of Twelve Days each player in succession repeated the gifts of the day, and raised his fingers and hand according to the number which he named. Each answer included the one that had gone before, and forfeits were paid for each mistake that was made. (1894, II, 315.)
The oldest printed version of the words used in playing Twelve Days stands in one of the diminutive toy-books exhibited at South Kensington Museum by E. Pearson. These words begin: —
The first day of Christmas, my true love gave me
A partridge in a pear-tree.
The second day of Christmas, my true love gave me
Two turtle-doves and a partridge in a pear-tree.
And so forth, enumerating three French hens, four colly birds, five gold rings, six geese a-laying, seven swans a-swimming, eight maids a-milking, nine drummers drumming, ten pipers piping, eleven ladies dancing, twelve lords leaping.
The same game is played in Scotland, where it is known as The Yule Days, but is carried on to thirteen.
The king sent his lady on the first Yule day
A papingo-aye [i.e. peacock or parrot]
Who learns my carol and carries it away?
The king sent his lady on the second Yule day
Two partridges and a papingo-aye.
(1870, p. 42.)
On the third day he sent three plovers; on the fourth, a goose that was grey; on the fifth, three starlings; on the sixth, three goldspinks; on the seventh, a bull that was brown; on the eighth, three ducks a-merry laying; on the ninth, three swans a-merry swimming; on the tenth, an Arabian baboon; on the eleventh, three hinds a-merry dancing; on the twelfth, two maids a-merry dancing; on the thirteenth three stalks of corn.
In Cambresis, in the North of France, the same game is called Les dons de l'an, "the gifts of the year," but the gifts correspond in number with the number of the day. They are: one partridge, two turtle-doves, three wood-pigeons, four ducks flying, five rabbits trotting, six hares a-field, seven hounds running, eight shorn sheep, nine horned oxen, ten good turkeys, eleven good hams, twelve small cheeses (D. B., II, 125).
In the West of France the piece is described as a song. It is called La foi de la loi, that is, "the creed of authority," and is sung avec solennité. It begins: —
La premièr' parti' d'la foi de la loi,
Dit' la moi, frère Grégoire.
– Un bon farci sans os —
La deuxième parti' d'la foi de la loi,
Dit' le moi, frère Grégoire
– Deux ventres de veau,
Un bon farci sans os.
(B., II, 271.)
"The first part of the creed of authority, tell it me, Brother Gregory. A good stuffing without bones. The second part of the creed of authority … two breasts of veal."
And so forth, enumerating three joints of beef, four pig's trotters, five legs of mutton, six partridges with cabbage, seven spitted rabbits, eight plates of salad, nine plates of (? chapitre), ten full casks, eleven beautiful full-breasted maidens, twelve knights with their rapiers.
The same conceptions underlie a Languedoc chant, in which the numbers are, however, carried on to fifteen. The gifts in this case are made on the first fifteen days of the month of May: —
Le prumiè del més de mai,
Qu'embouiarei à mai mio.
Uno perdic que bolo, que bolo.
(M. L., p. 486.)
"The first of the month of May, what shall I send to my lady love? – A partridge that flies and flies."
And similarly we read of two doves, three white pigeons, four ducks flying in the air, five rabbits, six hares, seven hunting dogs, eight white horses, nine horned oxen, ten bleating sheep, eleven soldiers coming from war, twelve maidens, thirteen white nosegays, fourteen white loaves, fifteen casks of wine.
The contents of these chants at first sound like nonsense, but on looking at them more closely one notes that the gifts which they enumerate mostly consist of birds and beasts that are conceived as food. We know that the weather on Twelve Days was carefully observed, since the weather of the months of the ensuing year was prognosticated from that of the corresponding day of the twelve.54 A like conception perhaps underlies these enumerations of food, which may refer to the representative sports of the months.
The game of Twelve Days in a degraded form is known as The Gaping Wide-mouthed Waddling Frog, in which the crux likewise consists of answering the question with rapidity and exactness. But words are purposely chosen that are difficult to enunciate and to remember. The result is a string of nonsense. The words used in playing The Gaping Wide-mouthed Waddling Frog were first printed in a toy-book of the eighteenth century. Persons who are still living remember it in this form as a Christmas game. As in playing Twelve Days, the players sat in a circle, a dialogue ensued, and the answers were given in cumulative form. He who made a mistake gave a forfeit.
Buy this of me: – What is it?
The gaping wide-mouthed waddling frog.
Buy this of me: – What is it?
Two pudding ends will choke a dog,
With a gaping wide-mouthed waddling frog.
Buy this of me: – What is it?
Three monkeys tied to a clog,
Two pudding ends will choke a dog, etc.
The answer to the last question stood as follows: —
Twelve huntsmen with horns and hounds,
Hunting over other men's grounds;
Eleven ships sailing o'er the main,
Some bound for France and some for Spain,
I wish them all safe home again;
Ten comets in the sky,
Some low and some high;
Nine peacocks in the air,
I wonder how they all came there,
I do not know and I don't care;
Eight joiners in joiner's hall
Working with their tools and all.
Seven lobsters in a dish,
As fresh as any heart could wish;
Six beetles against the wall [or six spiders in the wall],
Close by an old woman's apple stall;
Five puppies by our bitch Ball
Who daily for their breakfast call;
Four horses stuck in a bog;
Three monkeys tied to a clog;
Two pudding ends would choke a dog;
With a gaping wide-mouthed waddling frog.
Many rhymes that originated in these nonsense verses have found their way into nursery collections. Halliwell printed the following lines as a separate nursery rhyme: —
Eight ships on the main,
I wish them all safe back again;
Seven eagles in the air,
I wonder how they all came there;
I don't know, nor I don't care.
Six spiders on the wall,
Close to an old woman's apple stall;
Five puppies in Highgate hall,
Who daily for their breakfast call;
Four mares stuck in a bog,
Three monkeys tied to a log,
Two pudding ends will choke a dog,
With a gaping wide mouthed waddling frog.
(1842, p.246.)
Halliwell also printed some utterly debased rhymes, in which, however, numbers are still combined with the objects that are named. Among these rhymes is the following: —
One old Oxford ox opening oysters;
Two teetotums totally tired of trying to trot to Tadbury;
Three tall tigers tippling tenpenny tea;
Four fat friars fanning fainting flies;
And so on to
Twelve typographical typographers typically translating types.
(1846, p. 111.)
Other rhymes of this kind depend for their consistency on alliteration only, such as: —
Robert Rowley rolled a round roll round,
A round roll Robert Rowley rolled round;
Where rolled the round roll Robert Rowley rolled round.
(1842, p. 128.)
Robert Rowley is perhaps a name for thunder, since a rhyme recited in the North of England as a charm against thunder is: —
Rowley, Rowley, Rattley-bags;
Take the lasses and leave the lads.
(1876, p. 15.)
Another rhyme of this class begins: —
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, etc.
(1842, p. 129.)
And the time-honoured rhyme, "When a twister a twisting," etc., has been traced back by Halliwell to a collection of 1674. This has a French parallel: —
Si un cordonnier accordant veut accorder sa corde, etc.
I do not know if the English or the French version is the older one.
