_Source_.--Jamieson's _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_, 1814, p.
397 _seq._, who gives it as told by a tailor in his youth, _c._ 1770. I
have Anglicised the Scotticisms, eliminated an unnecessary ox-herd and
swine-herd, who lose their heads for directing the Childe, and I have
called the Erlkönig's lair the Dark Tower on the strength of the
description and of Shakespeare's reference. I have likewise suggested a
reason why Burd Ellen fell into his power, chiefly in order to introduce
a definition of “widershins.” “All the rest is the original horse,” even
including the erroneous description of the youngest son as the Childe or
heir (_cf._ “Childe Harold” and Childe Wynd, _infra_, No. xxxiii.),
unless this is some “survival” of Junior Right or “Borough English,” the
archaic custom of letting the heirship pass to the youngest son. I
should add that, on the strength of the reference to Merlin, Jamieson
calls Childe Rowland's mother, Queen Guinevere, and introduces
references to King Arthur and his Court. But as he confesses that these
are his own improvements on the tailor's narrative I have eliminated
them.
_Parallels_.--The search for the Dark Tower is similar to that of the
Red Ettin, (_cf_. Köhler on Gonzenbach, ii. 222). The formula “youngest
best,” in which the youngest of three brothers succeeds after the
others have failed, is one of the most familiar in folk-tales amusingly
parodied by Mr. Lang in his _Prince Prigio_. The taboo against taking
food in the underworld occurs in the myth of Proserpine, and is also
frequent in folk-tales (Child, i. 322). But the folk-tale parallels
to our tale fade into insignificance before its brilliant literary
relationships. There can be little doubt that Edgar, in his mad scene in
_King Lear_, is alluding to our tale when he breaks into the lines:
“Childe Rowland to the Dark Tower came....” His word was still: “Fie,
foh and fum, I smell the blood of a British man.” _King Lear_, act iii.
sc. 4, _ad fin_.
[Footnote: “British” for “English.” This is one of the points that
settles the date of the play; James I. was declared King of Great
_Britain_, October 1604. I may add that Motherwell in his _Minstrelsy_,
p. xiv. note, testifies that the story was still extant in the nursery
at the time he wrote (1828).]
The latter reference is to the cry of the King of Elfland. That some
such story was current in England in Shakespeare's time, is proved by
that curious _mélange_ of nursery tales, Peele's _The Old Wives' Tale_.
The main plot of this is the search of two brothers, Calypha and
Thelea, for a lost sister, Delia, who has been bespelled by a sorcerer,
Sacrapant (the names are taken from the “Orlando Furioso”). They are
instructed by an old man (like Merlin in “Childe Rowland”) how to rescue
their sister, and ultimately succeed. The play has besides this the
themes of the Thankful Dead, the Three Heads of the Well (which see),
the Life Index, and a transformation, so that it is not to be wondered
at if some of the traits of “Childe Rowland” are observed in it.
But a still closer parallel is afforded by Milton's _Comus_. Here again
we have two brothers in search of a sister, who has got into the power
of an enchanter. But besides this, there is the refusal of the heroine
to touch the enchanted food, just as Childe Rowland finally refuses.
And ultimately the bespelled heroine is liberated by a liquid, which is
applied to her _lips and finger-tips_, just as Childe Rowland's brothers
are unspelled. Such a minute resemblance as this cannot be accidental,
and it is therefore probable that Milton used the original form of
“Childe Rowland,” or some variant of it, as heard in his youth, and
adapted it to the purposes of the masque at Ludlow Castle, and of
his allegory. Certainly no other folk-tale in the world can claim so
distinguished an offspring.
_Remarks_.--Distinguished as “Childe Rowland” will be henceforth as
the origin of _Comus_, if my affiliation be accepted, it has even
more remarkable points of interest, both in form and matter, for the
folklorist, unless I am much mistaken. I will therefore touch upon these
points, reserving a more detailed examination for another occasion.
First, as to the form of the narrative. This begins with verse, then
turns to prose, and throughout drops again at intervals into poetry in a
friendly way like Mr. Wegg. Now this is a form of writing not unknown in
other branches of literature, the _cante-fable_, of which “Aucassin et
Nicolette” is the most distinguished example. Nor is the _cante-fable_
confined to France. Many of the heroic verses of the Arabs contained
in the _Hamâsa_ would be unintelligible without accompanying narrative,
which is nowadays preserved in the commentary. The verses imbedded
in the _Arabian Nights_ give them something of the character of a
_cante-fable_, and the same may be said of the Indian and Persian
story-books, though the verse is usually of a sententious and moral
kind, as in the _gâthas_ of the Buddhist Jatakas. Even as remote as
Zanzibar, Mr. Lang notes, the folk-tales are told as _cante-fables_.
There are even traces in the Old Testament of such screeds of verse amid
the prose narrative, as in the story of Lamech or that of Balaam. All
this suggests that this is a very early and common form of narrative.
Among folk-tales there are still many traces of the _cante-fable_. Thus,
in Grimm's collection, verses occur in Nos. 1, 5, 11, 12, 13, 15, 19,
21, 24, 28, 30, 36, 38_a_, _b_, 39_a_, 40, 45, 46, 47, out of the first
fifty tales, 36 per cent. Of Chambers' twenty-one folk-tales, in the
_Popular Rhymes of Scotland_ only five are without interspersed verses.
Of the forty-three tales contained in this volume, three (ix., xxix.,
xxxiii.) are derived from ballads and do not therefore count in the
present connection. Of the remaining forty, i., iii., vii., xvi., xix.,
xxi., xxiii., xxv., xxxi., xxxv., xxxviii., xli. (made up from verses),
xliii., contain rhymed lines, while xiv., xxii., xxvi., and xxxvii.,
contain “survivals” of rhymes (“let me come in--chinny chin-chin”; “once
again ... come to Spain;” “it is not so--should be so”; “and his lady,
him behind”); and x. and xxxii. are rhythmical if not rhyming. As most
of the remainder are drolls, which have probably a different origin,
there seems to be great probability that originally all folk-tales of a
serious character were interspersed with rhyme, and took therefore the
form of the _cante-fable_. It is indeed unlikely that the ballad
itself began as continuous verse, and the _cante-fable_ is probably
the protoplasm out of which both ballad and folk-tale have been
differentiated, the ballad by omitting the narrative prose, the
folk-tale by expanding it. In “Childe Rowland” we have the nearest
example to such protoplasm, and it is not difficult to see how it could
have been shortened into a ballad or reduced to a prose folk-tale pure
and simple.
The subject-matter of “Childe Rowland” has also claims on our attention
especially with regard to recent views on the true nature and origin of
elves, trolls, and fairies. I refer to the recently published work of
Mr. D. MacRitchie, “The Testimony of Tradition” (Kegan Paul, Trench,
Trübner & Co.)--_i.e._, of tradition about the fairies and the rest.
Briefly put, Mr. MacRitchie's view is that the elves, trolls, and
fairies represented in popular tradition are really the mound-dwellers,
whose remains have been discovered in some abundance in the form of
green hillocks, which have been artificially raised over a long and low
passage leading to a central chamber open to the sky. Mr. MacRitchie
shows that in several instances traditions about trolls or “good
people” have attached themselves to mounds, which have afterwards on
investigation turned out to be evidently the former residence of men of
smaller build than the mortals of to-day. He goes on further to identify
these with the Picts--fairies are called “Pechs” in Scotland--and other
early races, but with these ethnological equations we need not much
concern ourselves. It is otherwise with the mound-traditions and their
relation, if not to fairy tales in general, to tales _about_ fairies,
trolls, elves, etc. These are very few in number, and generally bear the
character of anecdotes. The fairies, etc., steal a child, they help
a wanderer to a drink and then disappear into a green hill, they help
cottagers with their work at night but disappear if their presence is
noticed; human midwives are asked to help fairy mothers, fairy maidens
marry ordinary men or girls marry and live with fairy husbands. All
such things may have happened and bear no such _à priori_ marks of
impossibility as speaking animals, flying through the air, and similar
incidents of the folk-tale pure and simple. If, as archaeologists tell
us, there was once a race of men in Northern Europe, very short and
hairy, that dwelt in underground chambers artificially concealed by
green hillocks, it does not seem unlikely that odd survivors of the
race should have lived on after they had been conquered and nearly
exterminated by Aryan invaders and should occasionally have performed
something like the pranks told of fairies and trolls.
Certainly the description of the Dark Tower of the King of Elfland in
“Childe Rowland,” has a remarkable resemblance to the dwellings of the
“good folk,” which recent excavations have revealed. By the kindness of
Mr. MacRitchie, I am enabled to give the reader illustrations of one of
the most interesting of these, the Maes-How of Orkney. This is a green
mound some 100 feet in length and 35 in breadth at its broadest part.
Tradition had long located a goblin in its centre, but it was not till
1861 that it was discovered to be pierced by a long passage 53 feet in
length, and only two feet four inches high, for half of its length. This
led into a central chamber 15 feet square and open to the sky.
Now it is remarkable how accurately all this corresponds to the Dark
Tower of “Childe Rowland,” allowing for a little idealisation on the
part of the narrator. We have the long dark passage leading into the
well-lit central chamber, and all enclosed in a green hill or mound.
It is of course curious to contrast Mr. Batten's frontispiece with the
central chamber of the How, but the essential features are the same.
Even such a minute touch as the terraces on the hill have their bearing,
I believe, on Mr. MacRitchie's “realistic” views of Faerie. For in quite
another connection Mr. G. L. Gomme, in his recent “Village Community”
(W. Scott), pp. 75-98, has given reasons and examples for believing
that terrace cultivation along the sides of hills was a practice of the
non-Aryan and pre-Aryan inhabitants of these isles. [Footnote: To these
may be added Iona (_cf._ Duke of Argyll, _Iona_, p. 109).] Here then
from a quarter quite unexpected by Mr. MacRitchie, we have evidence
of the association of the King of Elfland with a non-Aryan mode of
cultivation of the soil. By Mr. Gomme's kindness I am enabled to give an
illustration of this.
Altogether it seems not improbable that in such a tale as “Childe
Rowland” we have an idealised picture of a “marriage by capture” of one
of the diminutive non-Aryan dwellers of the green hills with an Aryan
maiden, and her re-capture by her brothers. It is otherwise difficult to
account for such a circumstantial description of the interior of these
mounds, and especially of such a detail as the terrace cultivation on
them. At the same time it must not be thought that Mr. MacRitchie's
views explain all fairy tales, or that his identifications of Finns
= Fenians = Fairies = Sidhe = “Pechs” = Picts, will necessarily be
accepted. His interesting book, so far as it goes, seems to throw light
on tales about mermaids (Finnish women in their “kayaks,”) and trolls,
but not necessarily, on fairy tales in general. Thus, in the present
volume, besides “Childe Rowland,” there is only “Tom Tit Tot” in his
hollow, the green hill in “Kate Crackernuts,” the “Cauld Lad of Hilton,”
and perhaps the “Fairy Ointment,” that are affected by his views.
Finally, there are a couple of words in the narrative that deserve a
couple of words of explanation: “Widershins” is probably, as Mr. Batten
suggests, analogous to the German “wider Schein,” against the appearance
of the sun, “counter-clockwise” as the mathematicians say--_i.e._, W.,
S., E., N., instead of with the sun and the hands of a clock; why
it should have an unspelling influence is hard to say. “Bogle” is a
provincial word for “spectre,” and is analogous to the Welsh _bwg_,
“goblin,” and to the English insect of similar name, and still more
curiously to the Russian “Bog,” God, after which so many Russian rivers
are named. I may add that “Burd” is etymologically the same as “bride”
and is frequently used in the early romances for “Lady.”