CHILDHOOD.
Nursery Literature--The Power of Baptism--Confirmation--Popular
Prayers--Weather Rhymes--School Superstitions--Barring out.
It must not be supposed that childhood has no special folk-lore of
its own. It is, in fact, of a most varied kind, many of the old
traditionary beliefs and practices associated with the nursery being
relics of what the Scandinavian mothers taught their children in days
of long ago. The familiar fairy-tales of our own childhood still form
the nursery literature in most homes, and are of unusual interest
as embodying not only the myths and legends of the ancient Aryan
race, but their conceptions about the world around them. Thus, for
instance, the well-known story of "Cinderella," like many others of
the same character, such as "Jack the Giant Killer," or "Beauty and
the Beast," are to be found in almost all countries, and although
the versions differ in some respects, yet they point to a common
origin at a very remote period. Indeed, it is curious that there
should still exist among the children of the nineteenth century an
undying love for these survivals of Aryan literature, couched in
such graceful and simple language that few modern compositions can
be found to equal them. In reading, therefore, about the dwellers
in Wonderland, the young mind is unconsciously taking in primitive
notions about the workings of nature as seen in the succession of
day and night, the changes of the seasons, and so on. In the story
of "Cinderella," we have the ancient nature-myth of the sun and the
dawn, representing the morning sun in the form of a fairy prince
pursuing Cinderella, the dawn, to claim her for his bride, whilst the
envious clouds, her sisters, and the moon, her stepmother, strive
to keep her in the background. It would, however, take too long and
require a book of itself to discuss the history and meaning of these
fairy tales which so delight the childish fancy, and exercise such a
wholesome influence, inculcating some of the noblest sentiments and
loftiest teachings of the founders of our race. Referring then more
particularly to the superstitions connected with childhood, we would,
first of all, briefly speak of those relating to certain outward
circumstances, which are believed to affect more or less the child's
welfare in life.
Thus, it is a deep-rooted belief that a child never thrives until
after its baptism; and in cases of illness the clergyman is more
often perhaps sent for by the poor from a belief in the physical
virtue of the sacred rite itself, rather than from any actual
conviction of its religious importance. Indeed, how much potency is
supposed to reside in baptism may be gathered from the countless
superstitions with which it is associated, the omission of this rite
being attended more often than not with fatal results. Hence it is
frequently performed as soon as possible after birth, one reason
being, as we have already seen, that so long as the child remains
unbaptised it is thought to be at the mercy of ill-disposed fairies,
and subject to the influence of the evil eye. According to another
popular fancy, not confined to our own country, should a child have
the misfortune to die unchristened, it is doomed either to flit
restlessly around its parents' abode, or to wander about in deserted
spots, daily repining over its hard and unenviable lot. In Germany,
tradition says that such children are transformed into that delusive
little meteor known as the will-o'-the-wisp, and so ceaselessly hover
between heaven and earth. On one occasion, we are told of a Dutch
parson who, happening to go home to his village late one evening,
fell in with no less than three of these fiery phenomena. Remembering
them to be the souls of unbaptised children, he solemnly stretched
out his hand and pronounced the words of baptism over them. Much,
however, to his terrible consternation and surprise, in the twinkling
of an eye a thousand or more of these apparitions suddenly made
their appearance--no doubt all equally anxious to be christened. The
good man, runs the story, was so terribly frightened, that forgetting
all his good intentions, he took to his heels and ran home as fast
as his legs could take him. In Lusatia, where the same superstition
prevails, the souls of these unhappy children, which hover about in
the form of will-o'-the-wisps, are said to be relieved from their
unhappy wanderings so soon as any pious hand throws a handful of
consecrated ground after them.
In Scotland, to make quite sure of baptism being altogether
propitious, it was deemed highly important that the person entrusted
with the care of the child should be known by common report to be
lucky. She was generally provided with a piece of bread and cheese,
which she presented to the first person she met as an offering
from the infant. If the party readily accepted and partook of the
proffered gift, it was undoubtedly a good omen; but if refused
it was considered tantamount to wishing evil to the child. Hence
the future destiny of the little one was often augured from this
superstitious ceremony, which, by-the-by, is also practised in the
West of England, but the events of its after-life only too often
belied the weal and woe predicted for it. Again, it is thought highly
necessary that the child should cry at its baptism, or else ill-luck
will sooner or later overtake it, the idea being that, when the child
screams and kicks, the evil spirit is in the act of quitting it; its
silence, on the other hand, indicating that it is too good for this
wicked world. An amusing little episode in illustration of this
curious superstition is related by Mrs. Latham, in the "Folk-lore
Record:"--"I was lately present at a christening in Sussex, when a
lady of the party, who was grandmother of the child, whispered in
a voice of anxiety, 'The child never cried; why did not the nurse
rouse it up?' After we had left the church she said to her, 'O nurse,
why did not you pinch baby?' And when the baby's good behaviour was
afterwards commented upon, she observed, with a very serious air, 'I
wish that he had cried.'" In the same county it is considered unlucky
to divulge a child's intended name before its baptism; and the water
sprinkled on its forehead at the font must on no account be wiped
off. Whilst on the subject of baptism, we would just note that in
former years peculiar curative properties were supposed to reside in
water that had been used at this rite, and on this account it was
employed for various disorders. It was also regarded in Scotland as a
preservative against witchcraft; and eyes bathed in it were rendered
for life incapable of seeing ghosts.
It may not be inappropriate to allude here to the superstitions
relative to confirmation, following in due time, as this rite does,
on baptism. In Norfolk, for instance, it is considered unlucky to be
touched by the bishop's left hand; and in Devonshire, also, where a
similar notion prevails, young people look upon his right hand as the
lucky one, and should it not be their privilege to receive it, they
leave the church much disappointed. In some of the northern counties,
we are informed that the unfortunate recipients of the left hand
are doomed, then and there, to a life of single blessedness. This
is not the only species of superstition belonging to confirmation,
for instances are on record of persons who, although confirmed in
their early life, have again presented themselves for confirmation
in their old age, under a conviction that the bishop's blessing
would cure them of some bodily ailment. It is related that, at one
of the confirmations of the venerable Bishop Bathurst, an old woman
was observed eagerly pressing forward to the church. A by-stander,
somewhat amazed at her odd conduct, and struck with her aged
appearance, inquired if she was going to be confirmed, and, being
answered in the affirmative, expressed his astonishment that she
should have procrastinated it to such an advanced time of life. The
old woman, however, resented his reproof, replying "that it was not
so; that she had already been bishopped seven times, and intended to
be again, it was so good for her rheumatism!"
In some cases the prayers taught by the poor to their children
are curious. Thus, a popular prayer, formerly in use, and not yet
forgotten, is evidently a relic of Roman Catholic times, having been
handed down from a period anterior to the Reformation. As the reader
will see, the version below contains a distinct appeal to certain
saints for their intercession with God on the child's behalf:--
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
Bless the bed I lie upon;
Four corners to my bed,
Four angels at its head,
One to watch, two to pray,
And one to bear my soul away;
God within and God without,
Sweet Jesus Christ all round about;
If I die before I wake,
I pray to God my soul to take."
It has been pointed out that it is very singular that this prayer
should have survived the great change which took place in religious
opinion in the sixteenth century, and that it even still remains in
use. There are many variations of it, and the following two distiches
obtained from Lancashire are quaint, having been written, it has been
thought, by the Puritans, in ridicule:--
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
Hold the horse that I leap on.
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
Take a stick and lay upon."
A Lincolnshire clergyman, anxious to learn something of the nature of
the prayers said by the children of the agricultural poor, visited
some of their cottages a few years ago in the evening, and listened
to the little ones as they said their prayers. The concluding
portion, he tells us, was always intercession for relations, but
the form it generally took was peculiar. In the first place, it was
not, as is the case with the more educated classes, "Pray God bless
father and mother," &c., but "Pray for father, pray for mother, pray
for brothers and sisters," and so on. In certain cases, through
carelessness and rapidity, the words had degenerated into "Pray
father, pray mother," &c. There can be no doubt that originally the
prayer was this:--"Pray for father;" then a _Pater noster_, or an
_Ave Maria_, or both, would be said; then "Pray for mother," &c.
After the Reformation, as time went on, the constant repetition of
the _Pater_ and the use of the _Ave Maria_ would gradually die out
with the change of religious ideas, and thus the prayer would assume
its present form, "Pray for father, pray for mother."
Referring, in the second place, to the superstitions of children,
we find an immense number of curious rhymes on various subjects
used by them throughout the country. While many of these have,
no doubt, been taught them by nurserymaids, a great part, as Mr.
Chambers has pointed out in his "Popular Rhymes of Scotland," may
be thought to have taken their rise in the childish imagination
during that familiar acquaintance with natural objects, which it is
one of the most precious privileges of the young to enjoy in rural
districts. Besides, too, we must not forget that children seem to
have a peculiar love for all natural objects, often finding pleasure
in looking at some wayside flower, or in watching the movements of
some tiny insect, which in after-years do not bring them the same
interest. The fact, indeed, that the young mind is a true admirer of
nature in all probability accounts for many of those pleasing rhymes
which constitute much of the child's folk-lore.
Some of the charms, for instance, used to influence the weather are
curious, and it is worthy of note that these, in many cases, are not
confined to childhood only, but are frequently found in the mouths
of our peasants. Thus the child's appeal to rain for its departure
has become a general charm, and is familiar to most readers:--
"Rain, rain, go to Spain,
Fair weather, come again."
Aubrey considers this rhyme of great antiquity, and says that
"it is derived from the Gentiles." Often in summer-time, when a
thunder-shower interrupts some out-door game, one may hear a chorus
of young voices shouting--
"Rain, rain, go away,
Come another summer's day."
Or, as other versions have it, "Come again on washing-day." The
appearance of a rainbow is generally, too, the signal for various
marks of dissatisfaction on the part of the young, who, besides
entreating it to vanish as soon as possible, frequently try to
charm it away. This they do by placing a couple of straws or twigs
crossways on the ground, and so, to quote their phrase, "cross out
the rainbow." Another way is to make a cross of two sticks, and to
lay four pebbles on it, one at each end. Again, some of the rhymes
relating to snow are highly quaint, the following being repeated when
it makes its first appearance:--
"The men of the East
Are picking their geese,
And sending their feathers here away, here away."
When, however, boys wish the snow to go away, they sing:--
"Snow, snow, give over,
The cow's in the clover."
Thunder, in the North of England, is called by children
"Rattley-bags," and during a storm the boys are in the habit of
singing:--
"Rowley, Rowley, Rattley-bags,
Take the lasses and leave the lads."
There is a rhyme which is often repeated by the juvenile folks in the
north and midland counties upon seeing the new moon, which, perhaps,
may have an indirect allusion to its supposed lucky influence:--
"I see the moon and the moon sees me,
God help the parson that baptised me!"--
containing, evidently, a congratulation upon their birth. Boys,
too, have a curious saying respecting the reflection of the sun's
beams upon a ceiling, which they term "Jack-a-dandy beating his
wife with a stick of silver." If a mischievous boy, with a piece of
looking-glass, throws the reflection into the eyes of a neighbour,
the latter complains "he's throwing Jack-a-dandy in my eyes."
Passing on to other charm-rhymes connected with natural objects,
there are a very numerous class relating to the animal creation. In
evening-time, for instance, when the dew begins to fall, boys are
fond of hunting the large black snails, on discovering which they
exclaim:--
"Snail, snail, put out your horn,
Or I'll kill your father and mother i' th' morn."
This charm, however, is not confined to our own country, but under
a variety of forms is found on the Continent. In Scotland, too,
children prognosticate the coming weather from the movements of this
little creature:--
"Snailie, snailie, shoot out your horn,
And tell us if it will be a bonny day the morn."
School-life, again, has its customs and superstitions, many of which
have been transmitted from generation to generation; and childhood,
indeed, would seem quite incomplete without them. Thus, according
to an odd notion universally accepted in days gone by, and still
received with implicit faith, if the master's cane is carefully
nicked at the upper end, and a hair inserted, it will, as soon as
used, split immediately to the very tip. In school-games, the usual
antipathy to odd numbers is found, and a child is easily persuaded
to give away a marble to make the number even. A kind of divination,
also, is still frequently employed by boys to settle matters of
difficulty, such, for example, as who shall be the leaders in a game,
the choice of partners, and other details which are deemed of equal
importance. The mode of procedure is this:--A long stick is thrown
into the air, and caught by one of the parties. Each one then grasps
it hand over hand, and he who succeeds in getting the last hold is
the successful party. Mr. Henderson says that an odd expression
was formerly connected with the lending a knife among boys for the
cutting up of a cake or other dainty, the borrowers being asked to
give it back "laughing," _i.e._, with some of the good things it was
used to cut.
Among the many old school customs, we may close our present chapter
by mentioning a popular one known as "barring out," upon which, it
may be remembered, Miss Edgeworth has founded one of her instructive
stories. The practice consisted in "barring out" the masters from the
scene of their educational labours, the agents in this ceremony being
the pupils of the school. It was an occasion of no small disorder--
"Not school-boys at a barring out,
Raised ever such incessant rout."
Addison is reported to have been the leader of a barring out at the
Lichfield Grammar School, and to have displayed on the occasion a
spirit of disorderly daring very different to that timid modesty
which so characterised his after-life. So much, then, for the
folk-lore of childhood, a subject indeed full of interest, and
possessing a worth far beyond the circle of its own immediate
influence, inasmuch as even the simplest nursery jingle or puerile
saying has often been found of help in proving the affinity of
certain races, and has an ethnological value which the student of
comparative philology would be slow to underrate in his task of
research.