RHYMES AND BALLADS
Various nursery pieces deal with material which forms the subject of
romantic ballads also. Romantic ballads, like popular songs, are
preserved in a number of variations, for they were sung again and again
to suit the modified taste of succeeding ages. Many romantic ballads
retain much that is pre-Christian in disposition and sentiment. The
finest collection of romantic ballads during recent times was made by
Child,[24] who included the fireside versions of ballads that have come
down to us through nursery literature. Child puts forward the opinion
that where we are in possession of a romantic and a fireside version of
the same ballad, the latter is a late and degraded survival. But this
hardly seems probable, considering that the nursery version of the tale
is usually simpler in form, and often consists of dialogue only.
[24] Child, F. G., _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_ 1894.
In the estimation of Gregory Smith, the oldest extant examples of
romantic ballads "do not date further back than the second and third
quarter of the fifteenth century" (that is between 1425 and 1475),
"since the way in which the incidents in these are presented, reflects
the taste of that age."[25] This applies to romantic ballads that are
highly complex in form. The fireside version of the same story may have
flowed from the same source. The question hangs together with that of
the origin of the ballad, which may have arisen in connection with
dancing and singing, but the subject needs investigation.
[25] Smith, G., _The Transition Period_, 1897, p. 180, in
Saintsbury, _Periods of European Literature_.
Among our famous early ballads is that of _The Elfin Knight_, the oldest
printed copy of which is of 1670.
It begins as follows:--
My plaid awa', my plaid awa',
And o'er the hill and far awa',
And far awa' to Norrowa,
My plaid shall not be blown awa'.
The Elfin Knight sits on yon hill,
Ba, ba, ba, lilli ba,
He blaws his horn both loud and shrill,
The wind has blawn my plaid awa',
He blows it east, he blows it west,
He blows it where he liketh best.[26]
[26] Child, loc. cit., I, 6 ff.
The ballad goes on to describe how problems were bandied between the
Elfin Knight and a lady. The one on whom an impossible task was imposed
stood acquitted if he devised a task of no less difficulty, which must
first be performed by his opponent. Such flytings go far back in
literature. In this case the Elfin Knight staked his plaid, that is his
life, on receiving the favour of the lady, and he propounded to her
three problems, viz. of making a sack without a seam, of washing it in a
well without water, and of hanging it to dry on a tree that never
blossomed. In reply, she claimed that he should plough an acre of land
with a ram's horn, that he should sow it with a peppercorn, and that he
should reap it with a sickle of leather. The problems perhaps had a
recondite meaning, and the ballad-monger probably found them ready to
hand. For Child cites a version of the ballad in which the same flyting
took place between a woman and "the auld, auld man," who threatened to
take her as his own, and who turned out to be Death. The idea of a wooer
staking his life on winning a lady is less primitive than that of Death
securing a victim.
The same tasks without their romantic setting are preserved in the form
of a simple dialogue, in the nursery collections of _c._ 1783 and 1810.
In this case also it is the question of a wooer.
_Man speaks._
Can you make me a cambrick shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Without any seam or needlework?
And you shall be a true lover of mine.
Can you wash it in yonder well? Parsley, etc.,
Where never spring water or rain ever fell.
Can you dry it on yonder thorn,
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?
_Maiden speaks._
Now you have asked me questions three,
I hope you will answer as many for me.
Can you find me an acre of land,
Between the salt water and the sea sand?
Can you plow it with a ram's horn,
And sow it all over with peppercorn?
Can you reap it with a sickle of leather,
And bind it up with a peacock's feather?
When you have done and finished your work,
Then come to me for your cambrick shirt. (_c._ 1783, p. 10.)
On the face of it, it hardly seems likely that this version is descended
from the romantic ballad.
The tasks that are here imposed on the man are set also in the form of a
boast in a nursery song, in which they have so entirely lost their
meaning as to represent a string of impossibilities.
My father left me three acres of land,
Sing sing, sing sing,
My father left me three acres of land,
Sing holly, go whistle and sing.
I ploughed it with a ram's horn,
And sowed it with one pepper corn.
I harrowed it with a bramble bush,
And reaped it with a little pen knife.
I got the mice to carry it to the mill,
And thrashed it with a goose's quill.
I got the cat to carry it to the mill,
The miller swore he would have her paw,
And the cat she swore she would scratch his face.
(_N. & Q._, VII. 8.)
Another nursery piece is recorded by Halliwell which, in simple form
relates concerning _Billy my son_ the sequence of events which underlies
the famous romantic ballad of Lord Randal.[27] The story is current also
in Scotland relating to _The Croodin Doo_ (1870, p. 51); it was told
also some eighty years ago in Lincolnshire, of _King Henry my son_ (_N.
& Q._, 8, VI, 427). The romantic ballad in five verses, as told of
Lairde Rowlande, relates how he came from the woods weary with hunting
and expecting death. He had been at his true love's, where he ate of the
food which poisoned his warden and his dogs. In the nursery version the
tragedy is told in the following simple form:--
Where have you been to-day, Billy my son?
Where have you been to-day, my only man?--
I've been a wooing, mother; make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and fain would lie down.
What have you ate to-day, Billy my son?
What have you ate to-day, my only man?--
I've eat eel pie, mother; make my bed soon,
For I am sick at heart, and shall die before noon. (1849, p. 259.)
[27] _Ibid._, I, 157: Lord Randal.
Other nursery pieces deal with Tommy Linn, the Tam Linn of romance, who
is the hero of many famous romantic ballads. The name of Tam Linn goes
some way back in history. For the _Tayl of young Tamlene_, according to
Vedderburn's _Complaint of Scotland_, of 1549, was told among a company
of shepherds, and the name appears also as that of a dance, _A Ballett
of Thomalyn_, as far back as 1558.[28]
[28] _Ibid._, I, 256: Tamlene.
According to the romantic ballads, Tam Linn fell under the influence of
the fairies through sleeping under an apple tree, and they threatened to
take him back as their own on Hallowe'en, when they rode abroad once in
seven years and had the right to claim their due. Tam Linn told the
woman who loved him that she must hold him fast, whatever shape he
assumed owing to the enchantment of the witches, and that she must cast
him into water as soon as he assumed the shape of a _gled_. He would
then be restored to human form.
Tam Linn of romance figures in nursery lore as Tommy Linn. His exploits
were printed by Halliwell in one of the numerous versions that are
current in the north. In these pieces Tommy Linn has only this in common
with Tam Linn of romance, that he too is ready with a suggestion
whatever mishap befalls.
Tommy Linn is a Scotchman born,
His head is bald and his beard is shorn;
He has a cap made of a hare skin,
An alderman is Tommy Linn.
Tommy Linn has no boots to put on,
But two calves' skins and the hair it was on.
They are open at the side and the water goes in,
Unwholesome boots, says Tommy Linn.
Tommy Linn had no bridle to put on,
But two mouse's tails that he put on.
Tommy Linn had no saddle to put on,
But two urchins' skins and them he put on.
Tommy Linn's daughter sat on the stair,
O dear father, gin I be not fair?
The stairs they broke and she fell in,
You're fair enough now, says Tommy Linn.
Tommy Linn had no watch to put on,
So he scooped out a turnip to make himself one;
He caught a cricket and put it within,
It's my own ticker, says Tommy Linn.
Tommy Linn, his wife, and wife's mother,
They all fell into the fire together;
Oh, said the topmost, I've got a hot skin,
It's hotter below, says Tommy Linn. (1849, p. 271.)
Several short nursery rhymes are taken from this, or other versions of
this poem. Among the pieces printed by Chambers we read--
Tam o' the Lin and his bairns,
Fell i' the fire in others' arms!
Oh, quo' the bunemost, I ha'e a hot skin!!
It's hotter below, quo' Tam o' the Lin!!! (1870, p. 33.)
Sir Walter Scott in _Redgauntlet_ cites a catch on _Sir Thom o' Lyne_.
In some nursery collections the adventures of Tommy Lin, the Scotchman,
are appropriated to Bryan O'Lin, the Irishman.
Bryan O'Lin had no watch to put on,
So he scooped out a turnip to make himself one:
He caught a cricket and put it within,
And called it a ticker, did Bryan O'Lin.
Bryan O'Lin had no breeches to wear,
So he got a sheepskin to make him a pair:
With the skinny side out and the woolly side in,
Oh! how nice and warm, cried Bryan O'Lin. (1842, p. 212.)
Many nursery rhymes which dwell on cats are formed on the model of these
verses. A rhyme that comes from America is as follows:--
Kit and Kitterit and Kitterit's mother,
All went over the bridge together.
The bridge broke down, they all fell in,
"Good luck to you," says Tom Bolin.
A modern collection of rhymes (1873, p. 136) gives this as follows:--
The two grey cats and the grey kits' mother,
All went over the bridge together;
The bridge broke down, they all fell in,
May the rats go with you, sings Tom Bowlin.
The association of cats with Tommy Linn reappears in the rhyme in which
Tommy, who in the romantic ballad begged immersion for himself,
practised immersion on a cat. Perhaps the cat was figured as a witch,
who, being suspected, was cast into the water in order to prove her
witchcraft.
Ding dong bell, poor pussy has fall'n i' th' well,
Who threw her in? Little Tom O' Linne,
What a naughty boy was that
To drown poor pussy cat,
That never did any harm,
But catch'd a mouse i' th' barn. (1797, cited by Rimbault.)
Other variations of this rhyme mention Johnny Green (_c._ 1783, p. 23)
and Tommy Quin (Rusher), which, considering the relative antiquity of
Tommy Linn, are obvious degradations of this name.
The rhyme in some collections is quoted in an enlarged form:--
Who put her in? Little Tommy Lin,
Who pulled her out? Little Tommy [_or_ Dickey] Stout.
I have heard also:--
Who put her in? Little Tommy Thin.
Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Stout.
Stout is perhaps a traditional name. For it occurs in the nursery piece
on the old woman who went to sleep out of doors and forgot her identity.
I know no earlier version of this piece in English than the one recorded
by Rimbault which begins:
There was a little woman as I've heard tell,
Who went to market her eggs for to sell.
It further relates how she went to sleep out of doors, how the man Stout
"cut her petticoats round about," and how on waking she did not know
herself, and decided to go home and find out if her dog knew her (1864,
p. 6). But the story is an old one, for we come across it in Grimm's
_Fairy Tales_, where it forms a sequel to "Kluge Else," (No. 35). In
this the part of Stout is taken by the woman's husband, who hung her
skirt about with bells, and it is further stated that the woman fell
asleep when she was cutting corn. The same story in a more interesting
form was recovered in Norway. Here we read that the woman fell asleep
while she was cutting hemp, which explains why her mind failed her. For
hemp newly cut has strongly narcotic properties. It was probably the
herb which the witches smoked in their diminutive clay-pipes in
pre-Christian times. Presumably on account of these narcotic properties
sowing and cutting of hemp were associated all over Europe with peculiar
dances, such as _Enfille aiguille_, our _Thread-the-Needle_. Its
connection with heathen rites of divination is suggested by the
well-known rhyme:--
Hemp-seed I set, hemp-seed I sow,
The young man whom I love,
Come after me and mow. (1890, p. 414.)
In this form the rhyme is also cited in _Mother Bunch's Closet newly
broke open_, as a charm to secure the vision of one's future husband.