Comparative Studies in Nursery Rhymes
"This is the house that Peter built. A rat came out of a rat-hole, and made the fly go into the fly-hole. Rat to fly, lovely fly, never saw I so lovely a fly."
The other powers are dog, bear, man, maid, abbot, pope, devil.
The same tale is told in Austria (V., p. 113), and in Prussia (F., p. 197), where it is called Das Haus vom hölzernen Mann, "the house of the wooden Man." In Prussia it is recited as a game of forfeits. The sequence of the powers in the one version is house, door, lock, band, mouse, cat, dog, stick, fire, water, ox, butcher, devil; and in the other, house, door, lock, band, mouse, cat, huntsman.
Jack in Germany is called Jockel, Jöggeli, Jokele. The Master who sent out Jockel is mentioned already in the Gargantua of Fischart, which was published in 1575 (Chap. XXV.). The name Jack among ourselves is applied to a person or an object of peculiar serviceableness, as in Jack-of-all-trades, or boot-jack. But in Germany the expression "to send Jockel on an errand" implies that this will never get done.
In Vogtland the current nursery version of this piece begins: —
Es schickt der Herr den Gȏkel 'naus,Er soll den Haber schneiden.(Du., p. 35.)"The master sent out Gokel to cut oats."
As he failed to come back, dog, fire, water, ox, butcher, hangman, devil, were sent after him.
In Swabia Jokele (Br., p. 44), and in Switzerland Joggeli, was sent to knock off pears on which a spell had fallen. The chant in Zürich has been traced back to the year 1769, and it begins: —
Es ist ein Baum im Gärtle hinne,d' Birren wänd nüd fallen.Do schückt de Bur de Joggeli usenEr soll di Birren schütteln.(R., p. 155.)"There is a tree in the garden, its pears will not drop. The peasant sent out Joggeli to knock them off."
But the pears refused to be knocked off, and the usual sequence of powers was sent to secure them.
The tale of Jack was current in Münster in Westphalia also, where it was taken over by the Church, and annually recited at the religious procession which took place on the eve of the feast of St. Lambert, 17 September. This was done as late as the year 1810 (R., p. 155). The recitation was followed or accompanied by a dance, the purpose of which is not recorded. Perhaps the procession stood in relation to the actual garnering of pears, and the tale was recited in order to secure a good harvest. In this case not Jack, but der Jäger, "the huntsman," was dispatched to knock the pears off, and the sequence of powers included dog, stick, fire, water, calf, butcher, hangman, devil.
This adoption by the Church of the sequence of powers shows that we have to do with the remains of a heathen ritual, which found its way into a Christian celebration, as the tale of the kid found its way into the Easter celebration of the Jewish Church. In both instances the sequence of relative powers is preserved, and in both it is question of making an object secure for the use of man.
The same sequence of powers is preserved also in the traditional game that is known as Dump among ourselves (1894, I, 117; II, 419), and as Club Fist in America (N., p. 134). In this game it is also a question of building a house, and of knocking off pears. The action of the players, however, stands in no obvious relation to the words that are used. Sometimes three, sometimes a number of lads, crowd together and place their fists sideways one on the other, till they form a pile of clenched hands. The last boy, who has a fist free, knocks off the fists one by one, saying: —
(In Yorkshire) What's this? – (Answer) Dump.(In America) What's that? – (Answer) A pear.Take it off or I'll knock it off.In Shropshire all sing together: —
I've built my house, I've built my wall;I don't care where my chimneys fall.When all the fists are knocked down, the following dialogue ensues: —
What's there? – Cheese and bread and a mouldy half-penny.Where's my share? – I put it on the shelf, and the cat got it.Where's the cat? – She's run nine miles through the wood.Where's the wood? – T' fire burnt it.Where's the fire? – T' water sleckt it.Where's the water? – T' ox drunk it.Where's the ox? – T' butcher killed 'em.Where's the butcher? – Upon the church-top cracking nuts, and you may go and eat the shells; and them as speak first shall have nine nips, nine scratches, and nine boxes on the ear.(1849, p. 128.)Silence falls, all try not to laugh, and he who first allows a word to escape him, is punished by the others in the methods adopted by schoolboys. In the Scottish game the punishment is described as "nine nips, nine nobs, nine double douncornes, and a good blow on the back."
In France the same game is known as Le Pied de Bœuf, "the foot of the ox," and a scramble of fists starts at the words: —
Neuf, je tiens mon pied de bœuf.
(Mo., p. 351.)"Nine, I hold my ox's foot";
the number nine in this case being also mentioned.
The meting out of punishments by nines goes far back in history. It was associated with a Yule-tide sport which is still practised in Denmark and in Schleswig, and is known as Ballerrune or Balderrune. Every member of the assembled company repeated a formula on "Balder Rune and his wife," and he who made a mistake received nine blows, as in our game. The custom was explained by the legend that the god Balder, incensed at his wife's loquacity, chastised her by giving her nine blows, and ordered that this should be repeated every year, so that women be reminded that it is their duty to be silent when their husbands speak (H., p. 44).
In the game of Dump also, it is the person who speaks first that is punished, but there is nothing to suggest that this was a woman, for the game is essentially a boys' game.
The story of The Woman and her Pig (or Kid), like that of Jack, is told over a wide geographical area. In the Scottish version the woman lived in a wee house and found two pennies and bought a kid. On coming home she saw a bush and wished to pull off its berries, and could not. She set the kid to watch the house, and went to seek the help of dog, stick, fire, water, ox, axe, smith, rope, mouse, cat, milk, in her hope of breaking the spell that had fallen on the bush. Each animal or object refused "to do the next one harm, saying that it never did it any harm itself"; but the cat finally could not resist the temptation of lapping the milk (1870, p. 57). Thus the tale introduced a moral element which is not found elsewhere.
In Sweden the tale of The Old Woman and her Pig is called Konen och Grisen Fick, "the woman and her pig Fick," and the pig refused to leave off eating acorns. A similar tale is called Gossen och Geten Näppa, "the lad and the kid Näppa," (1849, p. 6). In Elsass the pig is called Schnirrchele (St., p. 93), in Transylvania it is Mischka or Bitschki (Sch., p. 372). And a version from the north of France tells how Biquette got into a cabbage-patch from which stick, fire, water, were summoned to expel her. Biquette is described as a kid (D., p. 122). In Languedoc Biquette reappears as Bouquaire-Bouquil, who is furnished with horns and does havoc in a millet-field from which he is expelled with the help of wolf, dog, stick, fire, water, ox, rope (M. L., p. 538). In all cases the animal is one that is provided with horns. Millet is one of the oldest cereals that were cultivated in Europe, the displacement of which by the cultivation of corn had begun in England when Pytheas visited these shores in the fourth century B.C. Can the "malt" of This is the House that Jack built stand for millet?
A French piece is current in Remiremont which is called Le Conjurateur et le Loup, "the magician and the wolf." It describes the contest between them, and shows that the making and unmaking of spells is involved: —
L'y a un loup dedans le bois,Le loup ne veut pas sortir du bois.Ha, j' te promets, compèr' Brocard,Tu sortiras de ce lieu-là.(R., p. 152.)"There is a wolf in the wood, the wolf will not come out of the wood. Ha, I promise you, brother Brocard, you will soon come out."
And the magician summons to his assistance stick, fire, water, calf, butcher, devil, which help him to expel the wolf.
Even more primitive than this tale is one current in Languedoc, in which a spell has fallen on a root or turnip, which is finally raised by the hog. It begins: "The old woman went into the garden in order to pull out a turnip. When the old man saw that the old woman did not come back, he went into the garden and saw the old woman pulling at the turnip. The old man pulled at the old woman, the old woman pulled at the turnip, but the turnip stuck fast." They were followed by daughter-in-law, son, man, maid, and so forth, including the cat and the rat. Finally the hog came to the rescue. Instead of pulling like the others, he attacked the turnip from below, and by doing so he succeeded in raising it, otherwise the spell would continue, "and the root would still be holding fast" (M. L., p. 541).
The comparison of these various tales or pieces shows that dog, stick, fire, water, ox, butcher, form a sequence of powers that was accepted over a wide geographical area. They were invoked wherever it was question of breaking a spell that had fallen on a coveted object, the object including pigs, pears, oats, berries, millet, and roots. These are products that were prized in Europe from a remote period in antiquity. As the products are primitive, so probably is the form of verse in which the story is told of their being made fast. For the same form of verse is used in a further class of pieces to which we now turn, and which, by their contents, betray a pre-Christian origin.
CHAPTER XII
CHANTS OF NUMBERS
AMONG our traditional games, some consist of a dialogue in which the answer is set in cumulative form. These include the game known as The Twelve Days of Christmas, which was played on Twelfth-Day night by the assembled company before eating mince-pies and twelfth cake. In the game of Twelve Days each player in succession repeated the gifts of the day, and raised his fingers and hand according to the number which he named. Each answer included the one that had gone before, and forfeits were paid for each mistake that was made. (1894, II, 315.)
The oldest printed version of the words used in playing Twelve Days stands in one of the diminutive toy-books exhibited at South Kensington Museum by E. Pearson. These words begin: —
The first day of Christmas, my true love gave meA partridge in a pear-tree.The second day of Christmas, my true love gave meTwo turtle-doves and a partridge in a pear-tree.And so forth, enumerating three French hens, four colly birds, five gold rings, six geese a-laying, seven swans a-swimming, eight maids a-milking, nine drummers drumming, ten pipers piping, eleven ladies dancing, twelve lords leaping.
The same game is played in Scotland, where it is known as The Yule Days, but is carried on to thirteen.
The king sent his lady on the first Yule dayA papingo-aye [i.e. peacock or parrot]Who learns my carol and carries it away?The king sent his lady on the second Yule dayTwo partridges and a papingo-aye.(1870, p. 42.)On the third day he sent three plovers; on the fourth, a goose that was grey; on the fifth, three starlings; on the sixth, three goldspinks; on the seventh, a bull that was brown; on the eighth, three ducks a-merry laying; on the ninth, three swans a-merry swimming; on the tenth, an Arabian baboon; on the eleventh, three hinds a-merry dancing; on the twelfth, two maids a-merry dancing; on the thirteenth three stalks of corn.
In Cambresis, in the North of France, the same game is called Les dons de l'an, "the gifts of the year," but the gifts correspond in number with the number of the day. They are: one partridge, two turtle-doves, three wood-pigeons, four ducks flying, five rabbits trotting, six hares a-field, seven hounds running, eight shorn sheep, nine horned oxen, ten good turkeys, eleven good hams, twelve small cheeses (D. B., II, 125).
In the West of France the piece is described as a song. It is called La foi de la loi, that is, "the creed of authority," and is sung avec solennité. It begins: —
La premièr' parti' d'la foi de la loi,Dit' la moi, frère Grégoire.– Un bon farci sans os —La deuxième parti' d'la foi de la loi,Dit' le moi, frère Grégoire– Deux ventres de veau,Un bon farci sans os.(B., II, 271.)"The first part of the creed of authority, tell it me, Brother Gregory. A good stuffing without bones. The second part of the creed of authority … two breasts of veal."
And so forth, enumerating three joints of beef, four pig's trotters, five legs of mutton, six partridges with cabbage, seven spitted rabbits, eight plates of salad, nine plates of (? chapitre), ten full casks, eleven beautiful full-breasted maidens, twelve knights with their rapiers.
The same conceptions underlie a Languedoc chant, in which the numbers are, however, carried on to fifteen. The gifts in this case are made on the first fifteen days of the month of May: —
Le prumiè del més de mai,Qu'embouiarei à mai mio.Uno perdic que bolo, que bolo.(M. L., p. 486.)"The first of the month of May, what shall I send to my lady love? – A partridge that flies and flies."
And similarly we read of two doves, three white pigeons, four ducks flying in the air, five rabbits, six hares, seven hunting dogs, eight white horses, nine horned oxen, ten bleating sheep, eleven soldiers coming from war, twelve maidens, thirteen white nosegays, fourteen white loaves, fifteen casks of wine.
The contents of these chants at first sound like nonsense, but on looking at them more closely one notes that the gifts which they enumerate mostly consist of birds and beasts that are conceived as food. We know that the weather on Twelve Days was carefully observed, since the weather of the months of the ensuing year was prognosticated from that of the corresponding day of the twelve.54 A like conception perhaps underlies these enumerations of food, which may refer to the representative sports of the months.
The game of Twelve Days in a degraded form is known as The Gaping Wide-mouthed Waddling Frog, in which the crux likewise consists of answering the question with rapidity and exactness. But words are purposely chosen that are difficult to enunciate and to remember. The result is a string of nonsense. The words used in playing The Gaping Wide-mouthed Waddling Frog were first printed in a toy-book of the eighteenth century. Persons who are still living remember it in this form as a Christmas game. As in playing Twelve Days, the players sat in a circle, a dialogue ensued, and the answers were given in cumulative form. He who made a mistake gave a forfeit.
Buy this of me: – What is it?The gaping wide-mouthed waddling frog.Buy this of me: – What is it?Two pudding ends will choke a dog,With a gaping wide-mouthed waddling frog.Buy this of me: – What is it?Three monkeys tied to a clog,Two pudding ends will choke a dog, etc.The answer to the last question stood as follows: —
Twelve huntsmen with horns and hounds,Hunting over other men's grounds;Eleven ships sailing o'er the main,Some bound for France and some for Spain,I wish them all safe home again;Ten comets in the sky,Some low and some high;Nine peacocks in the air,I wonder how they all came there,I do not know and I don't care;Eight joiners in joiner's hallWorking with their tools and all.Seven lobsters in a dish,As fresh as any heart could wish;Six beetles against the wall [or six spiders in the wall],Close by an old woman's apple stall;Five puppies by our bitch BallWho daily for their breakfast call;Four horses stuck in a bog;Three monkeys tied to a clog;Two pudding ends would choke a dog;With a gaping wide-mouthed waddling frog.Many rhymes that originated in these nonsense verses have found their way into nursery collections. Halliwell printed the following lines as a separate nursery rhyme: —
Eight ships on the main,I wish them all safe back again;Seven eagles in the air,I wonder how they all came there;I don't know, nor I don't care.Six spiders on the wall,Close to an old woman's apple stall;Five puppies in Highgate hall,Who daily for their breakfast call;Four mares stuck in a bog,Three monkeys tied to a log,Two pudding ends will choke a dog,With a gaping wide mouthed waddling frog.(1842, p.246.)Halliwell also printed some utterly debased rhymes, in which, however, numbers are still combined with the objects that are named. Among these rhymes is the following: —
One old Oxford ox opening oysters;Two teetotums totally tired of trying to trot to Tadbury;Three tall tigers tippling tenpenny tea;Four fat friars fanning fainting flies;And so on to
Twelve typographical typographers typically translating types.(1846, p. 111.)Other rhymes of this kind depend for their consistency on alliteration only, such as: —
Robert Rowley rolled a round roll round,A round roll Robert Rowley rolled round;Where rolled the round roll Robert Rowley rolled round.(1842, p. 128.)Robert Rowley is perhaps a name for thunder, since a rhyme recited in the North of England as a charm against thunder is: —
Rowley, Rowley, Rattley-bags;Take the lasses and leave the lads.(1876, p. 15.)Another rhyme of this class begins: —
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, etc.(1842, p. 129.)And the time-honoured rhyme, "When a twister a twisting," etc., has been traced back by Halliwell to a collection of 1674. This has a French parallel: —
Si un cordonnier accordant veut accorder sa corde, etc.
I do not know if the English or the French version is the older one.
CHAPTER XIII
CHANTS OF THE CREED
THE game of Twelve Days, especially in one French version, shows that instruction was conveyed by the cumulative mode of recitation. There are many pieces enlarging on matters of belief – Hebrew, Christian, Druidical, and heathen – which in the same way associate numbers with objects. The comparison of these pieces suggests that they are all derived from one original source. They may fitly be termed Chants of the Creed.
One of these cumulative chants is included in the Hebrew service for the night of the Passover, which is called Echod mi jodea, "He who knows."55 It is recited to a monotonous tune after the return of the family from celebration, either by the master of the house or by the assembled company. The dialogue form, I am told, is no longer observed. The piece begins: —
Who knoweth One? – I, saith Israel, know One.One is God, who is over heaven and earth.Who knoweth Two? – I, saith Israel, know Two.Two tables of the covenant; but One is our God who is over the heavens and the earth…And so forth to the last verse, which is as follows: —
Who knoweth thirteen? – I, saith Israel, know thirteen: Thirteen divine attributes – twelve tribes – eleven stars – ten commandments – nine months preceding childbirth – eight days preceding circumcision – seven days of the week – six books of the Mishnah – five books of the Law – four matrons – three patriarchs – two tables of the covenant – but One is our God, who is over the heavens and the earth.
The same chant adapted to matters of Christian belief, but carried only from one to twelve, is current also in Latin, Italian, Spanish, French, German, and Danish. Among ourselves it is set as a song. But the objects which are associated with the numbers are not uniformly the same, and this renders it probable that the chants were composed independently of one another. This view is supported by the fact that some of the items that are named in the Christian chants are not Christian, and are, in fact, identical with the items named in the entirely heathen chants.
The Latin version of the Chant of the Creed has been traced back to the second half of the sixteenth century. Its words were set to music in a motet for thirteen voices by Theodor Clinius (d. 1602), a Venetian by birth (E., p. 408). Another Latin version of the chant goes back to 1650. The chant begins: —
Dic mihi quid unus?
– Unus est Jesus Christus [or Deus] qui regnat in aeternum [or coelis]. (A., I, 420.)
"Tell me, what is One? One is Jesus Christ [or God] who reigns in eternity [or in heaven]."
The answers further explain two as the testaments, three as the patriarchs, four as the evangelists, five as the books of Moses, six as the water-jugs of Cana in Galilee, seven as the gifts of the spirit (or the candelabra lit before God), eight as the beatitudes, nine as the orders (or choirs of the angels), ten as the commandments, eleven as the disciples (or stars seen by Joseph), twelve as the articles of the faith (or the apostles).
The Chant of the Creed as recited in Spain (A., II, 142) is set in the same form, and explains the numbers in much the same manner, except that six are the days of the Creation, and eleven are eleven thousand virgins. Another version (A., II, 104) associates the Virgin with one, the three Maries with three, while nine, like the Hebrew chant, indicates the months of expectancy of the Virgin. In a Portuguese version also, nine are the months of Christ's becoming, and eleven are eleven thousand virgins (A., II, 102).
Throughout Italy and in Sicily the Chant of the Creed is known as Le dodici parole della Verità, "the twelve words of truth." They are generally put into the lips of the popular saint, Nicolas of Bari, who is said to have defeated the evil intentions of Satan by teaching them. These Italian chants for the most part agree with the Latin chant already cited, except that two in the Abruzzi is associated with the sun and the moon; five is explained as the wounds of Jesus or of St. Francis, and eleven stands for the articles of the Catholic faith (A., I, 419; II, 97).
In Denmark the Chant of the Creed is put into the lips of St. Simeon, and begins: —
Stat op, Sante Simeon, og sig mig, hvad een er?
"Stand forth, St. Simeon, and tell me, what is one."
The explanations in this case are strictly Christian, Jesus Christ standing for One. The souls saved by God from the ark (sjaele frelste Gud udi Arken) stand for eight (Gt., II, 68).
In Languedoc also the chant is current in a Christian adaptation which agrees with the Latin, except that the Trinity stands for three; the wounds of Jesus, as in the Italian chant, stand for five; the lights in the temple stand for six; and the joys of our Lady stand for seven (M. L., p. 478).
From Europe the Chant of the Creed has been carried to Canada, where a version is sung in French to a monotonous tune in four beats at a formal kind of dance, called a ronde religieuse– a religious round. To this dance six couples stand up; each dancer represents a number. To the sound of their singing they move in a chain, each person turning first to the right, then to the left. When number six is reached in singing, and every time that six recurs in the chant, the dancing stops, and to the words "six urnes de vin remplies," the dancers who represent even numbers turn first to the right, then to the left, and make a deep bow, while those that represent uneven numbers perform the same ceremony the other way about (G., p. 298). Then the dancing is resumed. This figure, judging from the description, exactly corresponds to the Grand Chain in Lancers, except that six couples dance instead of four or eight.
In the Canadian chant the explanations of the numbers are all Christian, except that for eleven they say eleven thousand virgins, which agrees with the virgins of the Spanish and Portuguese chants. These eleven thousand virgins are mentioned also in a version of the chant current in Zürich, which, unlike the others, carries the numbers to fifteen. It enumerates Christian matters similar to those already named as far as nine choirs of angels, and further associates ten with thousands of knights, eleven with thousands of virgins, the apostles with twelve, the disciples with thirteen, the helpers in need (Nothelfer) with fourteen, the mysteries with fifteen. This chant is set in the old way of question and answer, and the answers are recited in cumulative form (R., p. 268).
