CHAPTER XV.

POPULAR POETRY. BALLADS.

The fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in England and Scotland were

rich in popular poetry and in ballads. We must define the meaning of

"popular" and "ballad" poetry, as used in this chapter.

Much confusion and much controversy exist regarding this matter

of ballads and popular poetry. To understand the subject it is

necessary to be acquainted with the results of research in the

_orally transmitted_ verse of peoples in every stage of culture;

for till elementary instruction in reading and writing become

universal, the untaught rural classes retain, in their songs, the

literary methods of the quite uncivilized races of Australia,

North America, Africa, and so on.

Taking the, peoples lowest in civilization, we find that the

Australian blacks and the American Red Indians have several

kinds of songs, usually sung in dances, whether festive or

religious or magical. They have magic chants, and even hymns,

often unintelligible to those who sing them in the dance, either

because the language is obsolete, or because the songs have been

borrowed from tribes of alien speech. It is clear that in Europe,

too, the ballad was originally a dancing song ("ballad" is from

_ballare_, to dance), and where a story was told, that was given

in recitative, while the dancers followed each line of narrative

with a chorus or refrain, such as

There were three ladies lived in a bower,

_Oh wow! bonnie._

And they went out to pu' a flower

_On the bonnie banks o' Fordie._

The story told in the recitative, in surviving examples, was

probably, at first, composed by one author, versifying a popular

tale, of unknown antiquity, or narrating some recent event.

Even now in the remoter isles of the Hebrides, various singers,

each in turn, improvise and chant verses, and thus a kind of

ballad is made collectively. But it is plain that for each of

our oldest surviving narrative ballads there must have been one

original author, whether his theme was an old story or a recent

occurrence,--on the Borders usually a cattle raid, the escape

of a prisoner, or a battle. There would be no _professional_

poet, as Queen Mary's ally, Bishop Leslie of Ross tells us,

in his "History of Scotland," "the Borderers themselves make

their own ballads, about the deeds of their ancestors, or crafty

raids or forays". Such unwritten songs would be altered by every

singer, as time went by, so that these ballads as they stand are

thoroughly popular and "masterless," many hands have combined to

bring them into their present state.

The Robin Hood ballads, or songs about Robin Hood, are mentioned

by Piers Plowman as popular among the peasants at the end of the

fourteenth century. They would be sung in connexion with the very

ancient festivities of May Day, held in England and Scotland,

when money was collected, rather roughly, from spectators and

passers-by. Now Wynkyn de Worde, the successor of Caxton as a

printer, published a "Lytil Geste" of Robin Hood (about 1490).

But we are not obliged to suppose that the songs known to Piers

Plowman were borrowed from the "long Geste" of Robin Hood; more

probably the "Geste" was derived from the popular traditions and

rhymes of the May Day show of Robin Hood. How far these ballads

as they now exist have been organized and improved upon by a

professional minstrel it is hard to say. In any case the older

ballads are worthy of merry England.

The ballads of King Arthur are manifestly popularized and reduced

to the simple ballad form from the long literary romances, and

are probably the work of lowly professional minstrels.

The long ballad of "Flodden Field" is the work of a partisan of

the Stanley family, it is far too long (over 500 lines), and too

full of historical detail, for a ballad made by the Borderers

themselves. "Scottish Field" (Flodden) is another piece of the

same sort, in alliterative measure.

The class of ballad which was made as a narrative of current

events, or a satire on contemporaries (of such ballad-satires

Henry VIII complained to James V) was usually, in England, the

work of a versifying journalist of the humblest sort, and was

printed. John Knox tells us that ballads were made on Queen

Mary's Four Maries (Mary Livingstone, Mary Fleming, Mary Beaton

and Mary Seaton), and these, it is plain, were satirical. But the

only survivor of these ballads, "Mary Hamilton," is romantic,

and in all its many various forms transfers, to a non-existent

Mary, the misfortunes of a French waiting-maid of the Queen,

who, with her lover, an apothecary, was hanged for the murder of

their child. In only one text is the lover an apothecary: the

lady is sometimes not an apocryphal Hamilton, but a Campbell,

daughter of the Duke of Argyll; or a daughter of the Duke of

York, or even "Mary Mild" (or Mile) which is the name of our Lady

in old carols. For the lover, the poet chooses Henry Darnley,

husband of Queen Mary, or that old offender, "Sweet Willie," or

any one; and this is a good example of the changes which popular

ballads underwent in recitation. As they stand, the multitude has

collaborated in them, reciters have altered the original in many

ways.

Such ballads differ much from "Lady Bessy," with its 1080 lines,

probably written by Humphrey Brereton in honour of the House of

Stanley and of Lady Bessie's revenge on Richard III. Some verses

are as spirited as those of "Kinmont Willie," a Border ballad

to which Scott lent the vigour of the last and greatest of the

Border makers, for probably the finest verses in the song are by

Sir Walter himself: at all events he improved what old verses he

found.

At Bosworth Field, when all is lost, Sir William Harrington says

to Richard III:--

"There may no man their strokes abide,

The Stanleys' dints they be so strong,

Ye may come in another time;

Therefore methink ye tarry too long."

As lion-hearted as his namesake Richard I, Richard III replies:--

"Give me my battle-axe in my hand,

And set my crown on my head so high,

For by Him that made both sea and land,

King of England will I this day die.

"One foot of ground I will not flee

While the strength abides my breast within,"

As he said so did it be,

If he lost his life he died a king.

The early history of our purely romantic ballads, such as "Clerk

Sanders," "The Douglas Tragedy," "The Dowie Dens o' Yarrow,"

"Young Beichan," "The Wife of Usher's Well," "Fair Annie,"

"Tamlane," and many more, is obscure. They have analogues in all

European countries, from Greece to Scandinavia, and in popular

tales, the oldest things in literature. Their extraordinary

charm, their touch of supernatural terror, their simplicity,

their recurring formulæ of words, their brevity and pathos, make

them things apart. The heart of humanity is their maker, though

in each country where they exist local allusions and local colour

have been given to them by the singers. When such ballads have

been worked over by some hack of the early Press they are often

worthless; the best have been collected from oral recitation, or

old written copies.

There can be no universal theory of the origin of ballads; each

ballad must be examined by itself before we can say whether it

is a popularized shape of a literary romance, or a versified

"Märchen" worked over by many hands in many ages, or a mere

mythical news-letter, like "King James and Brown"; or the work,

like "Otterburne," of a humbler poet than the minstrels of the

Stanleys, but a better poet; or one whose work has been improved

by the modifications of later singers; or whether the thing is

a dance song, contributed to by each dancer in turn; or a brief

and beautiful lament like "The Bonny Earl o' Murray". The best

traditional ballads have the colour and fragrance of wild flowers.

Curious and very ancient traits of popular usages may be gathered

from the songs of merrymaking, for example in the songs of Ivy,

the badge of the women, and of Holly, the badge of the men.

Girls and lads bring ivy and holly into halls and a fight ensues,

the girls are thrust out into the cold.

"Nay, nay Ivy it may not be, I wis,

For Holly must have mastery, as the manner is."

The girls burned the "Holly boy" of the men, the men burned the

"Ivy maid" of the girls. This ancient feud of the sexes, and of

their patron birds, exists among the tribes of South-Eastern

Australia, the men killing the bird of the women, the women the

bird of the men, and an amorous kind of combat follows.

The old ballad of "Chevy Chace," a form of the older ballad

on the battle of Otterburn (1388) was warmly praised by Sir

Philip Sidney. Later Addison took delight in ballads: they

began to be collected and printed in volumes towards the end of

the seventeenth and early in the eighteenth century. In 1765

Bishop Percy printed many ballads and other early poems from a

manuscript, the "Folio" which he found, tattered and mutilated,

in the house of a friend. Percy, in his "Reliques," omitted,

altered and modernized the contents of the Folio, but it was very

popular. In 1803 and later Sir Walter Scott published "The Border

Minstrelsy," containing many excellent old ballads, in places

modified by himself, from manuscripts, recitations, and printed

copies. It is in "The Minstrelsy" that we find the "classical"

versions of the ballads; there are many other collections.

We have put into smaller type a short account of the probable origins

and development of the ballad, because a study of these subjects is

mainly based on folk-lore and on research into the unwritten poetry

of backward races. The reader of poetry who is not concerned about an

obscure and difficult subject, is best advised if he takes up Scott's

"Border Minstrelsy" and reads it "for human pleasure". He will find

endless variety of strong, simple, passionate poetry, seldom made

difficult by obsolete words, for the ballads are, however old, far less

Scots in language than the poems of Burns. Another good collection is

the abridgement by Professor Kittredge, of the late Professor Child's

vast collection of ballads in five volumes, a work indispensable to the

special student.

Though it is not a ballad, the most beautiful and loyal piece of

masterless poetry of this age is "The Nut Brown Maid," already old when

it was published in 1502. This is a defence of woman's faithfulness in

love, the maid will follow her outlawed lover to the greenwood, ay,

even if he have another lady there. Her lover replies:--

Lo yet, before, ye must do more,

Yf ye wyll go with me:

As cut your here up by your ere,

Your kyrtel by the kne;

With bowe in hande, for to withstande

Your enemyes, yf nede be.

Scott's song, "Greta Banks," in "Rokeby," repeats the sentiment and

metre of this beautiful poem, with its music and mastery of changing

refrains and various measures. Some of the carols too, such as "I

sing of a Maid," are the earliest notes in the bird-like music of the

lyrists under Elizabeth and Charles I.

PROFESSIONAL POETRY.

Skelton. Barclay.

Meanwhile professional poetry of society and the Court was

sinking to the lowest depth. The verse of the prolific priest and

scholar, John Skelton (born 1460? died 1529?), leads nowhere,

and though it is full of historical and personal interest, must

not detain us. Skelton had honours of a sort, as Laureate, from

Oxford, Cambridge, and Louvain. He translated parts of Cicero and

other classics, and, in 1500, was highly praised by the famous

Erasmus, who later brought the study of the New Testament in

Greek to England, and was the wittiest of scholars in the Revival

of Learning and of Greek literature. Skelton had Latin enough,

of Greek not much, and about 1500 was tutor of the future Henry

VIII. His profuse poetry is mainly in long but lively stretches

of doggerel; very short rhyming verses, generally satirical,

poured from him ceaselessly. He had a "flyting" or scolding match

like that of Dunbar and Kennedy, with Sir Christopher Garnesche;

he lamented at terrible length the death of "Philip Sparrow,"

slain by "our Cat Gib"--nothing can be less like Catullus's dirge

for Lesbia's sparrow, but some graceful compliments to young

ladies are intermixed with the doggerel. He owed the Rectory

of Diss, Norfolk, probably to his patron, Wolsey, but for some

unknown reason he later pursued Wolsey with libellous satires.

In "The Bowge of Court," when he relapses into stanzas and the

outworn allegorical verbiage, he satirizes Court life. In "Colyn

Clout," his hero is a tramp, as vehement in attack on all sorts

and conditions of men as Piers Plowman. Wolsey was attacked as

a despot in "Colyn Clout," and much more bitterly assailed in

"Why come ye not to Court": after writing this piece Skelton fled

from his foes and creditors to sanctuary in Westminster. He wrote

a long "Morality," "Magnificence," with the usual personified

vices and virtues. In very bad taste he hurled doggerel at "King

Jimmy," James IV, after his glorious death at Flodden, and, more

deservedly, attacked the Scots who deserted the Duke of Albany

and the French when the Duke wished to lead them across the

Tweed.

A brief sample of Skelton when most Skeltonical is his reply

to the alleged boast of the Scots that they won the battle of

Flodden.

That is as true

As black is blue

And green is grey

Whatever they say

Jemmy is dead

And closed in lead,

That was their own king:

Fie on that winning!

Even in his own country, as he admits, the execrable taste of

Skelton was reproved. He had a rude kind of vigour, but his

verses make it manifest that a new strain of blood, as it were,

was needed in English poetry: old forms, such as the allegorical

form, were outworn quite, and verse resembling the poem of

Aramis, in lines of one syllable, could not endure, while

Skelton's "Crown of Laurel" mixes his own blusterous humour

with the stale learning, and pompous allegory of the fifteenth

century; and "The Tunning of Eleanor Rummyng" (an ale-wife), in

doggerel, is as offensive as the Scottish song, "There was a

haggis in Dunbar," and extends to 620 lines. Very truly quoth

Skelton:--

I have written too mytche

Of this mad mummynge

Of Elynour Rummynge.

Barclay.

Alexander Barclay (died 1552) was probably not a Scot, though

his name is spelt in the Scots not the English way (Berkeley).

His high praises of James IV of Scotland, however, scarcely

indicate an English author, and he was very early regarded as

a Scot. He was a priest, a monk of Ely; he dwelt long at St.

Mary Ottery in Devon, and was a copious translator. His "Ship of

Fools" (1508-1509) is from the German "Narrenschiff" of Sebastian

Brandt: his "Castle of Labour," from the French of Gringore was

an earlier work. His "Eclogues," in part translated, are very

unlike those of Virgil, and their contents are growls in the

style of "Colyn Clout".

Barclay used French and Latin versions of the "Narrenschiff,"

as well as the original "Dutch". He altered and added to his

original as he pleased, and he prolongs the cry against abuses

raised by Piers Plowman. A writer who takes all follies and

vices for his theme, from the frauds of friars, the wickedness

of heretics, the oppressions of knights, to the peevishness of

the patient who kicks over the table on which the physic bottles

stand, can never want matter, and Barclay's matter is exceeding

abundant.

But the clever contemporary woodcuts that illustrate his satire

are better than his two thousand irregular stanzas in rhyme

royal, and if Barclay quarrelled with Skelton the affair is

like a feud between Bavius and Maevius. The two writers are

characteristic of their rude and chaotic age, which, as regards

all but popular poetry, was the dark hour before the dawn.

History of English Literature from "Beowulf" to Swinburne · 第 15 / 29 章