Let us dance, let us sing,
Let us join the wedding ring.
--West of Scotland (_Folk-lore Record_, iv. 174).
XXII. Here come three dukes a-riding,
A-riding, a-riding.
. . . . .
They will give you pots and pans,
They will give you brass;
They will give you pots and pans
For a pretty lass.
--Penzance, Cornwall (Mrs. Mabbott).
XXIII. Here come four dukes a-riding,
Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
What is your good will, sirs?
Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
Our good will's to marry, &c.
Marry one of us then, &c.
You're too poor and shabby, &c.
We're quite as good as you are, &c.
Suppose we have one of you then, &c.
Which one will you have, &c.
We'll have ---- to marry, &c.
Who will you send to fetch her, &c.
We'll send ---- to fetch her.
--Roxton, St. Neots (Miss E. Lumley).
XXIV. Here come three dukes a-riding,
With me rancy, tansy, tissimy tee,
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, tissimy tee.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, tissimy tee.
Pray which of us will you have, sir (repeat as above).
I think I will have this one (repeat).
. . . . .
[Forgotten, but the girls evidently decline to part with one of their
number.]
You are all too black and too blousy (repeat).
We're far too good for you, sir (repeat).
--Isle of Man (A. W. Moore). Played at a Manx Vicarage nearly sixty
years ago (Rev. T. G. Brown).
XXV. Here comes a Jew a riding,
With the ransom, tansom, tissimi, O!
And pray what is your will, sir? (as above).
Then pray take one of my daughters, &c.
They are all too black and too browsy, &c.
They are good enough for you, sir, &c.
My house is lined with silver, &c.
But ours is lined with gold, sir, &c.
Then I'll take one of your daughters, &c.
--Forest of Dean, Gloucester (Miss Matthews).
XXVI. The Campsie dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
The Campsie dukes a riding, come a rincey, dincey, dee.
--Biggar (Wm. Ballantyne).
XXVII. Five dukes comes here a-ridin',
A-ridin' fast one day;
Five dukes comes here a-riding,
With a hansom, dansom day.
What do you want with us, sirs,
With us, sirs, &c.
We want some wives to marry us,
To marry us, to marry us, &c.
Will you marry us, Miss Nancy,
Miss Nancy, Miss Nancy, &c.
We won't marry you to-day, sirs, &c.
Will you marry us to-day, Miss? &c. (to another girl).
We will marry you to-day, sirs, &c.
--London, Regent's Park (A. B. Gomme).
XXVIII. There's three dukes a-riding, a-riding,
There's three dukes a-riding,
Come a ransin, tansin, my gude wife.
Come a ransin, tansin te-dee,
Before I take my evening walk,
I'll have a handsome lady,
The fairest one that I do see.
--Rosehearty, Pitsligo (Rev. W. Gregor).
XXIX. One duck comes a-ridin', sir, a-ridin', sir,
A-ridin' to marry you.
And what do you want with me, sir?
I come to marry you two.
There's some of us ready to dance, sir;
Ready to dance and sing;
There's some of us ready to dance, sir,
And ready to marry you.
Then come to me, my darlin', my darlin', darlin' day,
With a ransom, tansom, tansom, tansom tay.
--London, Regent's Park (A. B. Gomme).
XXX. There's a young man that wants a sweetheart--
Wants a sweetheart--wants a sweetheart--
There's a young man that wants a sweetheart,
To the ransom tansom tidi-de-o.
Let him come out and choose his own,
Choose his own, choose his own;
Let him come out and choose his own,
To the ransom tansom tidi-de-o.
Will any of my fine daughters do, &c.
They are all too black and brawny,
They sit in the sun uncloudy,
With golden chains around their necks,
They are too black and brawny.
Quite good enough for you, sir! &c.
I'll walk in the kitchen, and walk in the hall,
I'll take the fairest among you all;
The fairest of all that I can see,
Is pretty Miss Watts, come out to me.
Will you come out?
Oh, no! oh, no!
Naughty Miss Watts she won't come out,
She won't come out, she won't come out;
Naughty Miss Watts she won't come out,
To help us in our dancing.
Won't you come out?
Oh, yes! oh, yes!
--Dorsetshire (_Folk-lore Journal_, vii. 223-224).
(_c._) Three children, generally boys, are chosen to represent the three
dukes. The rest of the players represent maidens. The three dukes stand
in line facing the maidens, who hold hands, and also stand in line.
Sufficient space is left between the two lines to admit of each line in
turn advancing and retiring. The three dukes commence by singing the
first verse, advancing and retiring in line while doing so. The line of
maidens then advances singing the second verse. The alternate verses
demanding and answering are thus sung. The maidens make curtseys and
look coquettishly at the dukes when singing the fourth verse, and draw
themselves up stiffly and indignantly when singing the sixth, bending
and bowing lowly at the eighth. The dukes look contemptuously and
criticisingly at the girls while singing the fifth and seventh verses;
at the ninth or last verse they "name" one of the girls, who then
crosses over and joins hands with them. The game then continues by all
four singing "Here come four dukes a-riding," and goes on until all the
maidens are ranged on the dukes' side.
This method of playing obtains in most versions of the game, though
there are variations and additions in some places. In the Bocking,
Barnes, Dublin, Hurstmonceux, Settle, Symondsbury, Sporle, Earls Heaton,
and Clapham versions, where the verses begin with "Here comes one Duke
a-riding," one boy stands facing the girls, and sings the first verse
advancing and retiring with a dancing step, or with a step to imitate
riding. In some instances the "three Dukes" advance in this way. In the
Barnes version, when the chosen girl has walked over to the duke, he
takes her hands and dances round with her, while singing the tenth
verse. In the Symondsbury (Dorset) version the players stand in a group,
the duke standing opposite, and when singing the sixth verse, advances
to choose the girl. When there is only one player left on the maidens'
side the dukes all sing the seventh verse; they then come forward and
claim the last girl, and embrace her as soon as they get her over to
their side. In the Hurstmonceux version, when the girls are all on the
dukes' side, they sing the last verse. Miss Chase does not say whether
this is accompanied by dancing round, but it probably would be. In the
Dublin version, after the third verse, the duke tries to carry off the
youngest girl, and her side try to save her. In the Wrotham version,
after the girls' retort, "Quite as good, as you, sir," the dukes select
a girl, who refuses to go to them: they then sing the last six lines
when the girl goes over. In the second Dorset version (which appeared in
the _Yarmouth Register_, Mass., 1874) the players consisted of a dozen
boys standing in line in the usual way, and a dozen girls on the
opposite side facing them. The boys sing the first two verses
alternately; the girl at first refuses and then consents to go. Dancing
round probably accompanies this, but there is no mention of it. In
Roxton, St. Neots, after the verses are sung, the duke and the selected
girl clasp hands, and he pulls her across to the opposite side, as in
"Nuts in May." In Settle (Yorks.) the game is called "The Dukes of York
and Lancaster." The first duke advances with a dancing step. The game is
then played in the usual way until all the players are ranged on the
dukes' side; then the two original dukes, one of whom is "red" and the
other "white," join hands, and the other players pass under their raised
hands. The dukes ask each of them, in a whisper, "red?" or "white?" The
player then goes behind the one he or she has chosen, clasping the
duke's waist. When all the players have chosen, a tug-of-war ensues
between the two sides. In the Earls Heaton version, the duke sings the
verses, offering gifts to the girl when she has been selected. In the
Oxfordshire version (Miss Broadwood) one player sings the words of the
verse, and all join in the refrain as chorus. In the Monton (Lancashire)
version the duke sings the last verse, and then takes a girl from the
opposite side; and in another version from Barnes, in which the words of
the last verse are the same as these, one of the dukes' side crosses
over and fetches the girl. The duke bows lowly before the chosen girl in
the Liphook version before she joins his side. In the East Kirkby,
Lincolnshire, version, when the dukes sing the last verse, they advance
towards the opposite side, who, when they see the direction in which
they are coming, form two arches, by three of the players holding up
their arms, the dukes' side going through one arch and returning through
the other, bringing the chosen girl with them. One Clapham version is
played in a totally different manner: the maidens form a circle instead
of a line, and the duke stands outside this until he is admitted at the
line which says, "let him in." At the conclusion of the dialogue he
breaks in and carries one player off. This is an unusual form; I have
only met with one other instance of it.
(_d._) The action in many of these versions is described as very
spirited: coquetry, contempt, and annoyance being all expressed in
action as the words of the game demands. The dancing movement of the
boys in the first verse to imitate riding, though belonging to the
earlier forms, is, with the exception of two or three versions, only
retained in those which are commenced by one player, partly, perhaps,
because of the difficulty three or more players experience in "riding"
or "prancing" while holding each other's hands in line form. I have seen
the game played when the "prancing" of the dukes (in a game where there
were a dozen or more players on each side at starting, as in the Dorset
version) was as important a feature as the maidens' actions in the other
verses. I think the oldest form of the game is that played by a fairly
equal number of players on each side, boys on one side and girls on the
other, rather than that of "one" or "three" players on the dukes' side,
and all the others opposite. The game then began with the present words,
"Here come three dukes;" these three each chose a girl at the same time,
and when these three were wived, another three "dukes" would pair with
three more of the girls, and after that another three, and so on. This
form would account for the modern idea that the number of dukes
increases on every occasion that the verses are sung, after the first
wife has been taken over, and until all the girls have been thus chosen.
This idea is expressed in some versions by the change of words: "Here's
a fourth [or fifth, and so on] duke come a riding" to take a wife, the
chosen maiden becoming a duke as soon as she has passed over on to the
dukes' side. The process of innovation may be traced by the methods of
playing. Thus, in one version played at Barnes (similar in other
respects to No. 10), beginning "three dukes a riding," _three_ girls
were chosen by the three first dukes, one by each, at the same time, and
all three girls walked across with the three dukes to the boys' line,
and stood next their respective partners. In two imperfect versions I
have obtained in Regent's Park, London, the same principle occurs. One
girl began--"One duck comes a ridin'," and two girls from the opposite
side walked across; the other "Five dukes come here a ridin'" was
played by five players on each side, and this was continued throughout.
When the verses were said, each of the five dukes took a player from the
opposite side and danced round with her. Again, in those versions
(Symondsbury and Barnes), where when one player is left on the maidens'
side without a partner, and all the dukes are mated, the additional
verse is sung, and this player is taken over too. Beyond these versions
are the large number beginning with three or more children singing the
formula of "three dukes," and choosing one girl at a time, until all are
taken over on to the dukes' side. Finally, there are the versions, more
in accord with modern ideas, which commence with one duke coming for a
wife, and continue by the girls taken over counting as dukes, the
formula changing into two dukes, and so on.
If this correctly represents the line of decadence in this game, those
versions in which additional verses appear are, I think, instances of
the tacking on of verses from the "invitation to the dance" or "May"
games; particularly in the cases in which the words "Now I've got my
bonny lass" appear. The Earls Heaton version is curious, in that it has
several verses which remind us of the old and practically obsolete "Keys
of Canterbury" (Halliwell, 96). It may well be that a remembered
fragment of that old ballad, which was probably once danced as a
dramatic round, has been tacked on to this game. The expression "walk
with me," or "walk abroad with me," is significant of an engaged or
betrothed couple. "I'm walking or walking out with so and so" is still
an expression used by young men and young women to indicate an
engagement. "She did ought to be married now; she've walked wi' him
mor'n'er a year now." Some of the versions show still more marked signs
of decadence. The altered wording, "Here comes a Jew a riding," "Here
comes the Duke of Rideo," "A duck comes a ridin'," and the Scotch
"Campsie Dukes a riding;" a Berkshire version, collected by Miss Thoyts
(_Antiquary_, xxvii. p. 195), similar to the Shropshire game, but with a
portion of the verse of "Milking Pails" added to it, and the refrain of
"Ransome, tansome, tismatee;" together with the disappearance of some
of the verses, are all evidently the results of the words being learnt
orally, and imperfectly understood, or not understood at all.
In this game, said in Lancashire to be the "oldest play of all," judging
both by the words and method of playing, we have, I believe, a distinct
survival or remembrance of the tribal marriage--marriage at a period
when it was the custom for men of a clan to seek wives from the girls of
another clan, both clans belonging to one tribe. The game is a purely
marriage game, and marriage in a matter-of-fact way. Young men of a clan
or village arrive at the abode of another clan for the purpose of
seeking wives, probably at a feast or fair time. The maidens are
apparently ready and expecting their arrival. They are as willing to
become wives as the dukes are to become husbands. It is not marriage by
force or capture, though the triumphant carrying off of a wife appears
in some versions. It is exogamous marriage custom, after the tribe had
settled down and arranged their system of marriage in lieu of a former
more rude system of capture. The suggested depreciation of the girls,
and their saucy rejoinders, may be looked upon as so much good-humoured
chaff and banter exchanged between the two parties to enhance each
other's value, and to display their wit. While it does not follow that
the respective parties were complete strangers to one another, these
lines may indicate that each individual wished "to have as good a look
round as possible" before accepting the offer made. It will be seen that
there is no mention of "love" in the game, nor is there any individual
courtship between boy and girl. The marriage formula does not appear,
nor is there any sign that a "ceremony" or "sanction" to conclude the
marriage was necessary, nor does kissing occur in the game.
There is evidence of the tribal marriage system in the survivals of
exogamy and marriage by capture occasionally to be noted in traditional
local custom. Thus the custom recorded by Chambers (_Book of Days_, i.
722) of the East Anglians (Suffolk), where whole parishes have
intermarried to such an extent that almost everybody is related to or
connected with everybody else, is distinctly a case in point, the
intermarrying of "parishes" for a long series of years necessarily
resulting in close inter-relationship. One curious effect of this is
that no one is counted as a "relation" beyond first cousins; for if
"relationship" went further than that it might "almost as well include
the whole parish." The old proverb (also from East Anglia):
"To change the name, and not the letter,
Is a change for the worse, and not for the better;"
that is, it is unlucky for a woman to marry a man whose surname begins
with the same letter as her own, also indicates a survival of the
necessity of marrying into another clan or tribal family.
Another interesting point in the game is the refrain, "With a rancy,
tancy, tay," which with variations accompanies all versions, and
separates this game from some otherwise akin to it. There is little
doubt that this refrain represents an old tribal war cry, from which
"slogans" or family "cries" were derived. These cries were not only used
in times of warfare, tribes were assembled by them, each leader of a
clan or party having a distinguishing cry and blast of a horn peculiar
to himself, and the sounding of this particular blast or cry would be
recognised by men of the same party, who would go to each other's
assistance if need were. The refrain is sung by all the players in
Oxfordshire and Lancashire, and in some versions the players in this
game put their hands to their mouths as if imitating a blast from a
horn, and a Lancashire version (about 1820-1830), quoted by Miss Burne,
has for the refrain, "With a rancy, tancy, terry boys horn, with a
rancy, tancy, tee." "The burden," says Miss Burne, "evidently
represented a flourish of trumpets." The Barnes version, "With a rancy,
tancy, terrimus hey!" and many others confirm this.
An interesting article by Dr. Karl Blind (_Antiquary_, ix. 63-72), on
the Hawick riding song, "Teribus ye Teri Odin," points out that this
slogan, which occurs in the "Hawick Common-Riding Song," a song used at
the annual Riding of the Marches of the Common, is an ancient Germanic
war-cry. Dr. Blind, quoting from a pamphlet, _Flodden Field and New
Version of the Common Riding Song_, says, "It is most likely that the
inspiring strains of 'Terribus' would be the marching tune of our
ancestors when on their way for Flodden Field and other border battles,
feuds, and frays. The words of the common-riding song have been changed
at various periods, according to the taste and capacity of poets and
minstrels, but the refrain has remained little altered. . . . The
origin of the ancient and, at one time, imperative ceremony of the
common-riding is lost in antiquity, and this old, no longer understood,
exclamation, 'Teribus ye Teri Odin,' has (says Dr. Blind) all through
ages in the meanwhile clung to that ceremony."
If we can fairly claim that the words of this game have preserved an old
slogan or tribal cry, an additional piece of evidence is supplied to the
suggestion that the game is a reflection of the tribal marriage--a
reflection preserved by children of to-day by means of oral tradition
from the children of a thousand years ago or more, who played at games
in imitation of the serious and ordinary actions of their elders.
Three Flowers
My mistress sent me unto thine,
Wi' three young flowers baith fair and fine--
The Pink, the Rose, and the Gilliflower:
And as they here do stand,
Whilk will ye sink, whilk will ye swim,
And whilk bring hame to land?
A group of lads and lasses being assembled round the fire, two leave the
party and consult apart as to the names of three others, young men or
girls, whom they designate Red Rose, the Pink, and the Gilliflower. If
lads are first pitched upon, the two return to the fireside circle, and
having selected a lass, they say the above verse to her. The maiden must
choose one of the flowers named, on which she passes some approving
epithet, adding, at the same time, a disapproving rejection of the other
two; for instance, I will sink the Pink, swim the Rose, and bring home
the Gilliflower to land. The two young men then disclose the names of
the parties upon whom they had fixed those appellations respectively,
when of course it may chance that she has slighted the person she is
understood to be most attached to, or chosen him whom she is believed
to regard with aversion; either of which events is sure to throw the
company into a state of outrageous merriment.--Chambers' _Popular
Rhymes_, p. 127. Mr. W. Ballantyne has given me a description of this
game as played at Biggar when he was a boy, which is practically the
same as this.
Three Holes
_T_ B
_a_ o A o o
_w_ 1 2 3
Three holes were made in the ground by the players driving the heels of
their boots into the earth, and then pirouetting. The game was played
with the large marbles (about the size of racket balls) known as
"bouncers," sometimes as "bucks." The first boy stood at "taw," and
bowled his marble along the ground into 1. (It was bad form to make the
holes too large; they were then "wash-hand basins," and made the game
too easy.) Taking the marble in his hand, and placing his foot against
1, he bowled the marble into 2. He was now "going up for his firsts."
Starting at 2, he bowled the marble into 3, and had now "taken off his
firsts," and was "coming down for his seconds." He then bowled the
marble back again into 2, and afterwards into 1. He then "went up for
his thirds," bowling the marble into 2, and afterwards into 3, and had
then won the game. When he won in this fashion, he was said to have
"taken off the game." But he didn't often do this. In going up for his
firsts, perhaps his marble, instead of going into 2, stopped at A; then
the second boy started from taw, and, having sent his marble into 1,
bowled at A; if he hit the marble, he started for 2, from where his
marble stopped; if he missed, or didn't gain the hole he was making for,
or knocked his antagonist's marble into a hole, the first boy played
again, hitting the other marble, if it brought him nearer to the hole he
was making for, or else going on. In such a case as I have supposed, it
would be the player's aim to knock A on to B, or some place between 2
and 3, so as to enter 2, and then strike again so as to near 3, enter 3,
and strike on his way down for his seconds, and near 2 again. These
were the chances of the game; but if the boy who started went through
the game without his antagonist having a chance, he was said "to take
off the game."--London (J. P. Emslie).
Three Jolly Welshmen
One child is supposed to be taking care of others, who take hold of her
or of each other. Three children personate the Welshmen. These try to
rob the mother or caretaker of her children. They each try to capture as
many as they can, and I think the one who gets most is to be mother next
time.--Beddgelert (Mrs. Williams).
See "Gipsy," "Mother, Mother," "Shepherd and Sheep," "Witch."
Three Knights from Spain
I. Here come two dukes all out of Spain,
A courting to your daughter Jane.
My daughter Jane, she is so young,
She can't abide your flattering tongue.
Let her be young, or let her be old,
It is the price, she must be sold,
Either for silver or for gold.
So fare you well, my lady gay,
For I must turn another way.
Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,
And rub your spurs till they be bright.
My spurs they are of a costliest wrought,
And in this town they were not bought,
Nor in this town they won't be sold,
Neither for silver, nor for gold.
So fare you well, my lady gay,
For I must turn another way.
Through the kitchen, and through the hall,
And take the fairest of them all;
The fairest is, as I can see,
Pretty Jane--come here to me.
Now I've got my pretty fair maid,
Now I've got my pretty fair maid,
To dance along with me,
To dance along with me!
--Eccleshall, Halliwell's _Nursery Rhymes_, p. 222.
II. Here comes three lords dressed all in green,
For the sake of your daughter Jane.
My daughter Jane, she is so young,
She learns to talk with a flattering tongue.
Let her be young, or let her be old,
For her beauty she must be sold.
My mead's not made, my cake's not baked,
And you cannot have my daughter Jane.
--Cambridgeshire, Halliwell's _Nursery Rhymes_, p. 222.
III. We are three brethren out of Spain,
Come to court your daughter Jane.
My daughter Jane, she is too young,
And has not learned her mother tongue.
Be she young, or be she old,
For her beauty she must be sold.
So fare you well, my lady gay,
We'll call again another day.
Turn back, turn back, thou scornful knight,
And rub thy spurs till they be bright.
Of my spurs take you no thought,
For in this town they were not bought.
So fare you well, my lady gay,
We'll call again another day.