'I love a lady, and she won't love me.'
'Peace, sir, peace, and don't despair,
The lady you love will be your only care;
And it must be gold to win her.'
"'Madam, will you accept of this pretty golden ball,
To walk all in the garden, or in my lady's hall?'
'Sir, I'll accept of no pretty golden ball,' etc.
"'Madam, will you accept of a petticoat of red,
With six golden flounces around it outspread?'
"'Madam, will you accept of the keys of my heart,
That we may join together, and never, never part?'
"'Madam, will you accept of the keys of my chest,
To get at all my money, and to buy what you think best?'
"'Sir, I will accept of the keys of your chest,
To get at all your money, and to buy what I think best;
And I'll walk and I'll talk with you.'
"'My man John, there's a box of gold for you,
For that which you told me has come true,
And 'twas gold, 'twas gold that did win her.'"
Another version comes from Yorkshire ("Halliwell Nursery Rhymes," 4th
ed., 1846); another from Cheshire (Broadwood, "English County Songs,"
p. 32); another in Mason's "Nursery Rhymes" (Metzler, 1877, p. 27).
Melodies different from ours.
23. THE DEATH OF PARKER. Words and melody taken down from Samuel
Fone, mason, Blackdown. It is identical with one obtained in
Yorkshire by Mr. Kidson. "The Death of Parker" is found on
Broadsides, and is in "The Lover's Harmony," N.D., printed by Pitts,
of Seven Dials. It is in Logan's "Pedlar's Pack," p. 58, and in
Ashton's "Modern Street Ballads," London, 1888, p. 218.
On April 15, 1797, when Admiral Bridport, commanding the
line-of-battle ships at Portsmouth and Spithead, signalled for the
fleet to prepare for sea, the men, by a preconcerted agreement,
refused to raise anchors till they had obtained redress for their
grievances, which had been sent in the form of a petition to Lord
Howe, two months before, and which had remained unnoticed. The Lords
of the Admiralty endeavoured for some days, but ineffectually, to
reduce the men to obedience. At last the grievances complained of
were redressed by the action of Lord Bridport, who also obtained his
Majesty's pardon for the offenders. However, in May, the sailors
at Portsmouth, thinking that the Government did not intend to keep
faith with them, came ashore and committed great excesses. Shortly
after this the fleet at Sheerness exhibited a mutinous spirit, and
this broke out into open mutiny at the Nore. At the head of the men
was Richard Parker, a Devonshire man. The obnoxious officers were
sent ashore, and the red flag was hoisted. Altogether twenty-five
ships were included in the mutiny. The mutineers seized certain
store-ships, fired on some frigates that were about to put to sea,
and blockaded the mouth of the Thames. All attempts at conciliation
having failed, it became necessary to resort to stringent measures.
Ships and gunboats were armed, batteries were erected on shore; the
mutineers were prevented from landing to obtain fresh water and
provisions; and all buoys and beacons were removed, so as to render
egress from the Thames impossible. One by one the ships engaged in
the mutiny began to drop off, and at last the _Sandwich_, Parker's
flagship, ran in under the batteries and delivered up the ringleader.
Parker was hung at the yard-arm on June 30. The ballad was composed
at the time, and obtained a wide circulation by appearing on
Broadsides.
At the Exeter Assizes in 1828, John C. Parker, son of Richard Parker,
obtained a verdict against his aunts for the possession of an estate
called Shute, which had belonged to his father's elder brother. The
question turned upon the legitimacy of the plaintiff, which was
proved by his mother, a woman who exhibited the remains of uncommon
beauty, and who was a Scottish woman, married to Richard Parker in
1793.
24. THE HELSTON FURRY DANCE. On May 8, annually, a festival is held
at Helston, in Cornwall, to celebrate the incoming of spring. Very
early in the morning a party of youths and maidens go into the
country, and return dancing through the streets to a quaint tune,
peculiar to the day, called the "Furry Dance." At eight o'clock the
"Hal-an-tow" is sung by a party of from twenty to thirty men and
boys who come into the town bearing green branches, with flowers
in their hats, preceded by a single drum, on which a boy beats the
Furry Dance. They perambulate the town for many hours, stopping at
intervals at some of the principal houses.
At one o'clock a large party of ladies and gentlemen, in summer
attire--the ladies decorated with garlands of flowers, the gentlemen
with nosegays and flowers in their hats, assemble at the Town Hall,
and proceed to dance after the band, playing the traditional air.
They first trip in couples, hand in hand, during the first part
of the tune, forming a string of from thirty to forty couples, or
perhaps more; at the second part of the tune the first gentleman
turns with both hands the lady behind him, and her partner turns
in like manner with the first lady; then each gentleman turns his
own partner, and then they trip on as before. The other couples, of
course, pair and turn in the same way, and at the same time.
The dancing is not confined to the streets; the house doors are
thrown open, and the train of dancers enters by the front, dances
through the house, and out at the back, through the garden, and back
again. It is considered a slight to omit a house. Finally the train
enters the Assembly Room and there resolves itself into an ordinary
waltz.
As soon as the first party is finished, another goes through the same
evolutions, and then another, and so on, and it is not till late at
night that the town returns to its peaceful propriety.
There is a general holiday in the town on Flora Day, and so strictly
was this formerly adhered to, that anyone found working on that day
was compelled to jump across Pengella, a wide stream that discharges
its waters into Loo Pool. As this feat was almost impracticable,
it involved a sousing. The festival has by no means ceased to be
observed; it has rather, of late years, been revived in energetic
observance.
The "Helston Furry Dance" is a relic of part of the Old English May
Games. These originally comprised four entirely distinct parts.
1st. The election and procession of the King and Queen of the May,
who were called the Summer King and Queen. 2nd. The Morris Dance,
performed by men disguised, with swords in their hands. 3rd. The
"Hobby Horse." 4th. The "Robin Hood."
In the Helston performance we have a fragment only of the original
series of pageants; at Padstow the Hobby-horse still figures. I have
given the two Padstow songs in "A Garland of Country Song," 1895, No.
42.
The Helston Furry Dance tune was printed in Davies Gilbert's
"Christmas Carols," 2nd ed., 1823. His form is purer than ours, which
is as now sung. Edward Jones had already published it in his "Bardic
Museum," vol. ii. (1802) as "The Cornish May Song," and George
Johnson in his "Welsh Airs," vol. ii. (1811).
25. BLOW AWAY, YE MORNING BREEZES. Taken down, words and music, from
Robert Hard. This curious song was to be sung by two sopranos; that
is to say, one voice taunts the other, and the second replies, then
both unite in the chorus. We have omitted the retort, which consists
simply in the application of the same words to the first singer.
It is certainly an early composition. One passage in it occurs in
"The Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter," in Percy's "Relicks," and
Child's "English and Scotch Ballads"--
"Would I had drunk the water cleare
When I had drunk the wine,
Rather than any shepherd's brat
Should be a lady of mine.
Would I had drunk the puddle foule
When I had drunk the ale," etc.
The burden or chorus, "Blow away," etc., occurs also in the ballad of
"The Baffled Knight."
26. THE HEARTY GOOD FELLOW. Taken down, words and music, from
Robert Hard. This ballad is found on a Broadside by Pitts, entitled
"Adventures of a Penny." The first verse there runs--
"Long time I've travelled the North Country
Seeking for good company.
Good company I always could find,
But none was pleasing to my mind.
Sing whack, fal de ral, etc.,
I had one Penny."
The rest is very much the same as our version. I also heard it sung
by a worker at the Aller Potteries, near Newton Abbot. Mr. Kidson has
obtained a traditional version in Yorkshire, and Mr. C. Sharp one in
Somersetshire from Eliza Hutchins of Langport. As the accent came
wrong in the version we received from Hard, we have adopted that as
given by Eliza Hutchins.
27. THE BONNY BUNCH OF ROSES. Of this we have taken down a great
number of versions. The melody is always the same. The youth in the
printed Broadside copies is always Napoleon Bonaparte. History does
not agree with what is said of the hero in the song. It is almost
certainly an anti-Jacobite production, adapted to Napoleon, with an
additional verse relative to Moscow. In the Broadside versions the
song is given "To the tune of the Bunch of Roses, O!" indicating that
there was an earlier ballad of the same nature.
This was a favourite fo'castle song in the middle of the nineteenth
century. There is a version of it in Christie's "Traditional
Ballads." One has also been recovered by Mr. Kidson in Yorkshire. The
song was such a favourite that a public-house near Wakefield bears
"The Bonny Bunch of Roses, O!" as its sign.
28. THE LAST OF THE SINGERS. The melody taken down from William
Huggins, mason, of Lydford, who died in March 1889. He had been
zealously engaged that winter going about among his ancient musical
friends collecting old songs for me, when he caught a chill and died.
The words he gave were those of the ballad, "The Little Girl down
the Lane," and were of no merit. I have therefore discarded them and
written fresh words, and dedicate them to the memory of poor old Will.
29. THE TYTHE PIG. Words and air taken from Robert Hard. Sung also
by J. Helmore. The song appears on Broadsides by Disley, Jackson of
Birmingham, Harkness of Preston, Catnach, and others. There are ten
verses in the original. I have cut them down to seven.
30. OLD WICHET. Taken from Thomas Darke of Whitstone. He had learned
it in 1835 from a fellow labourer. Sung also by James Parsons, Samuel
Fone, and J. Woodrich. It is said to be still popular in the North
of England. A Scottish version in Herd's Collection, 1769, and in
Johnson's "Musical Museum," Edinburgh, 1787-1803, vol. v. p. 437.
"Old Wichet" is in the Roxburgh Collection, and Bell has printed it
in his "Ballads and Songs of the English Peasantry."
Dr. Arnold recast the song to a tune of his own in "Auld Robin Gray,"
1794. The Scottish version begins--
"The good man cam hame at e'en
And hame cam he.
And there he saw a saddle horse
Where nae horse should be."
Dr. Arnold begins--
"'Twas on Christmas day, my father he did wed,
Three months after that, my mother was brought to bed."
In the original English song the final line to each stanza runs--
"Old Wichet went a cuckold out, and a cuckold he came home."
But in one version taken down--
"When honest men went out, under a horned moon."
I have thought it advisable to modify the last line of each stanza,
and to compose a last stanza, so as to give to the song a less
objectionable character. A somewhat similar ballad exists in France,
as "Marianne," in Lemoine, "Chansons du Limousin," Limoges, 1890;
in Daymard, "Vieux chants populaires de Quercy," Cahors, 1889; "Le
Jaloux," in Bladé, "Poésies populaires de Gascogne," 1881. But, in
fact, all these songs are the versification of an old troubadour
tale, that is given in Barbazan, "Fabliaux et contes des poètes
François xi.-xiv. siècles," as the "Chevalier à la robe vermeille,"
t. iii. p. 296. Alphonse Daudet, in "Numa Roumestan," introduces a
great portion of the ballad. He says, "C'est sur un air grave comme
du plain-chant." In the midst of the song, the person reciting it
breaks off, and transported by enthusiasm exclaims: "Ça, voyez-vous,
mes enfants, c'est _bo_ (beau) comme du Shakespeare."
31. JAN'S COURTSHIP. Words and air from Mr. R. Rowe, Longabrook,
Milton Abbot. Another set, slightly different, from Mr. Crossing;
another, practically identical, from Mr. Chowen, Brentor. As "Robin's
Courtship," the song was recovered by Mr. E.T. Wedmore of Bristol, in
Somersetshire. It has also been noted in the same county by Mr. Sharp
as "William the Rose," sung to the tune of "Lillibulero." It is found
in "The Universal Songster," _circ._ 1830, as "Poor Bob." In the
"Roxburgh Ballads," vi. pp. 216-7, is what is probably the earliest
form--"Come hither my dutiful son, and take counsel of me." This
was sung to the air "Grim King of the Ghosts." Another version is
referred to in the "Beggars' Opera," Act III. Sc. viii., "Now Roger
I'll tell thee, because thou'rt my son."
Our tune is rugged, and Somersetshire in character. It is in the
Æolian mode.
32. THE DROWNED LOVER. Taken down from James Parsons. This is a
very early song. It first appears as "Captain Digby's Farewell," in
the "Roxburgh Ballads," iv. p. 393, printed in 1671. In Playford's
"Choice Ayres," 1676, i. p. 10, it was set to music by Mr. Robert
Smith. Then it came to be applied to the death of the Earl of
Sandwich, after the action in Sole Bay, 1673. A black letter ballad,
date _circ._ 1676, is headed, "To the tune of the Earl of Sandwich's
Farewell." The original song consisted of three stanzas only; it
became gradually enlarged and somewhat altered, and finally Sam
Cowell composed a burlesque on it, which has served more or less to
corrupt the current versions of the old song, printed on Broadsides
by Catnach, Harkness, and others.
The black letter ballad of 1673 begins--
"One morning I walked by myself on the shoar
When the Tempest did cry and the Waves they did roar,
Yet the music of the Winds and the Waters was drownd
By the pitiful cry, and the sorrowful sound,
Oh! Ah! Ah! Ah! my Love's dead.
There is not a bell
But a Triton's shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Love's knell."
"Colonel Digby's Lament," 1671, begins--
"I'll go to my Love, where he lies in the Deep,
And in my Embrace, my dearest shall sleep.
When we wake, the kind Dolphins together shall throng,
And in chariots of shells shall draw us along.
Ah! Ah! My Love is dead.
There was not a bell, but a Triton's shell,
To ring, to ring out his knell."
A second version of the melody, but slightly varied from that we
give, was sent us by Mr. H. Whitfeld of Plymouth, as sung by his
father. Our air is entirely different from that given by Playford,
and is probably the older melody, which was not displaced by the
composition of Mr. R. Smith. The song is sung to the same melody, but
slightly varied, in Ireland.
33. CHILDE THE HUNTER. Words taken in a fragmentary form from Jonas
Coaker. He had used up the material of the ballad, incorporating
it into a "poem" he had composed on Dartmoor, and vastly preferred
his own doggerel to what was traditional. The Æolian melody given
is that to which the Misses Phillips, who were born and reared at
Shaw, on Dartmoor, informed me that they had heard the ballad sung
about 1830. We also obtained this air to "Cold blows the wind." It is
unquestionably an early harp tune, not later than the reign of Henry
VII. For the story of Childe of Plymstock, see Murray's "Handbook of
Devon," ed. 1887, p. 208; more fully and critically in W. Crossing's
"Ancient Crosses of Dartmoor," 1887, p. 51.
34. THE COTTAGE THATCHED WITH STRAW. Taken down, words and melody,
from John Watts, quarryman, Alder, Thrushleton. This is one of
the best known and, next to "Widdecombe Fair," most favourite
songs of the Devon peasantry. Mr. Kidson has noted the song from a
Worcestershire man. So far we have not been able to trace either
words or melody, though neither can be earlier than the beginning
of the nineteenth century, and the song has all the character of a
published composition, and no spontaneous composition of a peasant.
35. CICELY SWEET. Words and air sent me by J.S. Hurrell, Esq.,
Kingsbridge, who had learned them in the middle of last century
from Mr. A. Holoran, a Devonshire schoolmaster. It has already been
published as "Sylvia Sweet" in Dale's "Collection," _circ._ 1790. Two
verses are given by Halliwell as traditional in his "Nursery Rhymes,"
4th ed., 1846, p. 223.
36. A SWEET, PRETTY MAIDEN. Melody taken down from James Parsons. The
words of his ballad were interesting and poetical, but did not fit
the tune. It began--
"A maiden sweet went forth in May,
Nor sheet nor clout she bare,
She went abroad all on the day
To breathe the fresh spring air.
Before that she came back again
The maiden bore a pretty son,
And she roll'd it all up in her apron."
The theme is the same as "She roun't in her apron" in Johnson's
"Musical Museum," v. p. 437; and as it was quite impossible for us to
print it, I have set to the air another song.
37. THE WHITE COCKADE. Words and tune from Edmund Fry. The words
of this ballad are often mixed up with those of "It was one summer
morning, as I went o'er the grass." The song used to be well known
in Lancashire and Yorkshire. Several versions are given in Kidson's
"Traditional Tunes." As we heard the song, the cockade was described
as green, but there never was a green cockade. I have somewhat
altered the words. The Jacobite song of the "White Cockade" is
totally distinct. A Barnstaple ware punch-bowl with cover I have seen
in the parish of Altarnon, Cornwall, has on the cover the figure of
a piper with his dog, and the inscription, "Piper, play us the White
Cockade." This can hardly refer to the Scottish song and tune.
In "Stray Garlands," B.M. (71621, a, b), is "The Blue Cockade," but
this is a fusion of the two ballads.
38. THE SAILOR'S FAREWELL. Words and music from J. Helmore. A
Broadside version by Williams of Portsea, Wright of Birmingham, B.M.
(1876, c 2). As Helmore and his wife sang the verses alternately, we
have so arranged it.
39. A MAIDEN SAT A-WEEPING. Words and melody from James Parsons.
Again, from Will Aggett, Chagford, identically the same. In our
opinion a delicately beautiful song. The tune probably of the
sixteenth century.
40. THE BLUE KERCHIEF. Words and melody from John Woodrich, locally
known as "Ginger Jack." The words have appeared, with slight
variations, on Broadsides in ten verses. Catnach issued a parody on
it, "The Bonny Blue Jacket." In Dr. Barrett's "English Folk-Songs,"
he uses this tune for "Paul Jones."
41. COME TO MY WINDOW. This is a very early song, and the melody is
found substantially the same from the time of Queen Elizabeth.
In Beaumont and Fletcher's "Knight of the Burning Pestle," printed in
1613 and again in 1635, the merchant sings snatches of the song--
"Go from my window, love, go;
Go from my window, my dear;
The wind and the rain
Will drive you back again,
You can not be lodged here.
"Begone, begone, my Juggy, my Puggy,
Begone, my love, my dear!
The weather is warm,
'Twill do thee no harm,
Thou canst not be lodged here."--Act III.
In Fletcher's "Monsieur Thomas," 1639, a maid sings--
"Come to my window, love, come, come, come!
Come to my window, my dear:
The wind and the rain
Shall trouble thee again,
But thou shalt be lodged here."--Act III. Sc. iii.
In Fletcher's "The Woman's Prize," 1640, Jaques says--
"A moral, sir; the ballad will express it:
The wind and the rain
Have turn'd you back again,
And you cannot be lodged there."--Act I. Sc. iii.
It is evident that this ballad was very familiar in the latter part
of the 16th century, and we find that on March 4, 1587-8, John Wolfe
had a licence to print a ballad, entitled "Goe from my Window." It
was one of those early songs parodied in "Ane compendious booke of
Godly and Spirituall Songs," Edinburgh, 1590. This begins--
"Quho (who) is at my windo, who, who?
Goe from my windo; goe, goe.
Quha calls there, so like a strangere?
Goe from my windo, goe!"
At the end of Heywood's "Rape of Lucrece," 1638, is--
"Begone, begone, my Willie, my Billie,
Begone, begone, my deere;
The weather is warm, 'twill doe thee no harm,
Thou canst not be lodged here."
And in this form it appears in "Wit and Drollery," 1661, p. 25.
In "Pills to Purge Melancholy," 1719, iv. 44, is another version of
the song, beginning, "Arise arise, my juggy, my puggy." The tune
is found in what is erroneously called Queen Elizabeth's "Virginal
Book," and in "A New Book of Tablature," 1596; and in Morley's
"First Book of Concert Lessons," 1599; and in Robinson's "Schoole of
Musick," 1603. In the "Dancing Master," from 1650 to 1680, the tune
is given under the title of "The New Exchange, or Durham Stable," but
altered into 6-4 time to fit it for dancing.
The tune in its original form may be seen in Chappell, i. p. 141.
Chappell has also given a traditional form of the air as obtained at
Norwich. Dr. Barrett has given another in his "English Folk-Songs,"
No. 46, but without saying where he picked it up.
We obtained ours from John Woodrich; he heard it in an ale-house near
Bideford in 1864, from an old man, who recited a tale, in which the
song comes in in snatches. He had been soaked by the rain, and he
told the tale as he dried himself by the kitchen fire. The story is
this--
Two men courted a pretty maid; one was rich, the other poor; and the
rich man was old, but she loved the young poor man. Her father, in
spite of her tears, forced her to marry the rich man; but her other
suitor came under her window and tapped, and when the husband was
away she admitted him. So passed a twelvemonth, and she had a little
child. Then, one night, the lover came under the window, thinking her
goodman was from home. With his tapping the husband awoke, and asked
what the sound was. She said that an ivy leaf, fluttered by the wind,
struck the pane.
But fearing lest the lover should continue to tap, she began to sing,
as she rocked the cradle--
"Begone, begone, my Willie, my Billy,
Begone my love and my dear.
O the wind is in the west
And the cuckoo's in his nest,
And you cannot have a lodging here."
Again the lover tapped, and the husband asked what that meant. She
said that a bat had flown against the window. Then she sang--
"Begone, begone, my Willie, my Billy,
Begone, my love and my dear.
O the weather it is warm
And it cannot do thee harm,
And thou canst not have a lodging here."
Then the lover called, and the husband asked what that was. She said
it was the hooting of an owl; and then she sang--
"Begone, begone, my Willie, my Billy,
Begone my love and my dear.
O the wind and the rain
Have brought him back again,
But thou canst not have a lodging here."
Again the lover rapped; then she sprang out of bed, threw abroad the
casement, and sang--
"Begone, begone, my Willy, you silly,
Begone, my Fool and my Dear.
O the Devil's in the man,
And he cannot understan',
That to-night he cannot have a lodging here."
This is almost certainly the original framework to which these
snatches of song belong. But there was another version of the story
in a ballad entitled "The Secret Lover, or the Jealous Father
beguil'd, to a West Country tune, or Alack! for my love and I must
dye," printed by P. Brooksby, between 1672 and 1682, given by Mr.
Ebsworth in the "Roxburgh Ballads," vi. p. 205. This begins--
"A dainty spruce young Gallant, that lived in the West,
He courted a young Lady, and real love professt,
And coming one night to her, his mind he thus exprest--
And sing, Go from my window, love, go!
"'What, is my love a sleeping? or is my love awake?'
'Who knocketh at the window, who knocketh there so late?'
'It is your true love, Lady, that for your sake doth wait.'
And sing, Go from my window, love, go!"
Here the father, and not the husband, is the person who is
troublesome to the lovers.
That this is an adaptation, and not the original form of the story,
is obvious from the line--
"And the cuckoo's in his nest,"
a play on the word cuckold.
A still later version, _circ._ 1770, is given by Ebsworth, "Roxburgh
Ballads," vi. p. 205.
Messrs. Moffat and Kidson have given the song in the "Minstrelsy of
England," N.D., but 1903, p. 24. So also Dr. Barrett in his
"English Folk-Songs," No. 26. I have recast the words. The song may
derive from a tale used by Boccaccio in his "Decameron," vii. 1.