Comparative Studies in Nursery Rhymes

    (M., No. 13.)

"I am poor, I am poor in this game, I am rich in this game. Give me one of your children, in this game."

This is continued as in the Babyland game till every child has had its turn. There is no sequel.

In the German game the woman who owns the children is called sometimes Mary, sometimes Witch, but usually she has the name of a heathen divinity. Thus in Mecklenburg she is Fru Goden or Fru Gol (No. 11). Gode is the name of a mother divinity, who, as Godmor, is the mother of Thor (Gr., p. 209, note). In the game as played in Prussia (No. 10), in Elsass (No. 3), in Swabia (No. 2), and in Aargau (No. 4), she is Frau Ros or Frau Rose, that is Lady Ros or Rose; while in Pommerellen she is either Ole Moder Rose or Ole Moder Taersche (No. 1), a word that signifies witch. In Holstein, on the other hand, the alternative is recorded as Fru Rosen or Mutter Marie, Mother Mary (No. 9), while in Appenzell (No. 5) and near Dunkirk (No. 6) the owner of the children is Marei Muetter Gotts, i.e. Mary the Mother of God. Mannhardt points out that Ross, sometimes Rose, is the name of a German mother divinity who occurs frequently in German folk-lore. I have come across Mother Ross in our own chapbook literature, where the name may be traditional also. Mary indicates the substitution of a Christian name in the place of the older heathen one. In Sweden the owner of many babes is Fru Sole, who is represented as sitting in heaven surrounded by her daughters, who are described as chickens (No. 14).

The game of securing children is called in Switzerland Das Englein aufziehen (No. 5), that is, "the drawing forth of an angel." The word Engel, angel, according to the information collected by Mannhardt, originally designates the spirit that awaits re-birth. For the heathen inhabitants of Northern Europe, including the Kelts, were unable to realize individual death. They held that the living spirit passed away with death, but continued in existence, and again reappeared under another shape. In the civilization that belonged to the mother age, these spirits or angels that awaited re-birth, peopled the realm which was associated with divine mothers or mother divinities. At a later period, transferred into Christian belief, they were pictured as a host of winged babes, whom we find represented in mediaeval art hovering around the Virgin Mother and Child.

The land in which the unborn spirits dwelt, is generally spoken of in German nursery and folk rhymes as Engelland, an expression which forms a direct parallel to the expression Babyland of our game. Thus the Woman of Babyland, like Frau Rose or Frau Gode of the German game, was in all probability a divine mother, who was the owner of the spirits or babes that awaited re-birth.

In the estimation of Mannhardt, the game in which children are drawn from one woman into the possession of the other, preserves the relics of a ceremonial connected with the cult of the mother divinity. It visibly set forth how the spirits of the departed were drawn back into life (M., p. 319). Perhaps we may go a step further. The study of folk-lore has taught us that to simulate a desired result is one way of working for its attainment. Women who were desirous of becoming mothers, both in England and in Germany, were wont to rock an empty cradle. They also visited particular shrines. Of the rites which they practised there we know nothing. Perhaps the Babyland game originated not as an ideal conception, but preserves the relics of a rite by which women sought to promote motherhood. This assumption is supported by various features that are incidental to the game.

Thus the game, both in England and abroad, is essentially a girls' game, and the words that are used indicate that it is played by them only. Even where the generality of the players are designated as "children," the leaders are invariably girls.

Again, in some versions of the foreign game (Nos. 8, 9) there is mention of salt. The woman who asks for a child, complains that she has lost those that were given to her; she is told that she ought to have sprinkled them with salt (No. 8). Sprinkling with salt is still observed at Christian baptism in some districts, and such sprinkling is said to make a child safe.[40 - Cf. Addy, S. O., House Tales and Traditional Remains, 1895, pp. 86, 120.]

Again, in the game as played abroad the child that is chosen is put to the test if it can be made to laugh (Nos. 2, 4, 5, 8). In the game of Little Dog also, the child that laughs passes into the keeping of a new owner. Laughing indicates quickening into life, and in folk-lore generally the child that refrains from laughing is reckoned uncanny. Numerous stories are told of the changeling that was made to laugh and disappeared, when the real child was found restored to its cradle.

Again, in the foreign game the player who seeks to secure a child speaks of herself as lame, and limps in order to prove herself so (Nos. 1, 2, 14). In one instance she attributes her limping to a bone in her leg. Limping, in the estimation of Mannhardt, is peculiar to the woman who has borne children (M., p. 305). For in German popular parlance the woman who is confined, is said to have been bitten by the stork who brought the child.

A reminiscence of this idea lurks in our proverb rhyme: —

The wife who expects to have a good name,
Is always at home as if she were lame;
And the maid that is honest, her chiefest delight
Is still to be doing from morning till night.[41 - Bohn, H., A Handbook of Proverbs, 1901, p. 43.]

Again, in one version of the foreign game the children that are won over are given the names of dogs, and when their former owner attempts to get them back, they rush at her and bark (No. 1). This corresponds to our game of Little Dog, in which the child that stands apart is addressed as "Little Dog I call you." Grimm declared himself at a loss to account for the fact that a dog was associated with the Norns or Fate-maidens who assisted at childbirth (Gr., p. 339); Mannhardt cites the belief that the spirits of the dead were sometimes spoken of as dogs (M., p. 301); and in England there also exists a superstition that the winds that rush past at night are dogs, the so-called Gabriel hounds or ratchets (cf. below, p. 165).

Features preserved in other games contain similar suggestions which are worth noting.

Thus in the game known as Drop-handkerchief one girl holding a kerchief goes round the others who are arranged in a circle, saying: —

I have a little dog and it won't bite you
It won't bite you, it won't bite you [ad lib.]
It will bite you.

    (1894, I, 109.)
The person on whom the little dog is bestowed is "bitten"; that is, she is in the same predicament as the German woman who is bitten by the stork, and the limping woman of the German Babyland game.

In playing Drop-handkerchief in Deptford the children sing: —

I had a little dog whose name was Buff,
I sent him up the street for a pennyworth of snuff.
He broke my box and spilt my snuff
I think my story is long enough —
'Taint you, 'taint you, and 'taint you, but 'tis you.

    (1894, I, p. 111.)
In the collection of Nursery Songs by Rusher stands the following rhyme: —

I had a little dog and they called him Buff,
I sent him to a shop to buy me snuff,
But he lost the bag and spilt the stuff;
I sent him no more but gave him a cuff,
For coming from the mart without any snuff.

"Bufe" as a word for a dog occurs as far back as 1567.[42 - Murray's Dictionary: Bufe.]

CHAPTER IX

CUSTOM RHYMES

THE comparison of our short nursery rhymes with those current in other countries, next engages our attention. Halliwell has remarked that some of our rhymes are chanted by the children of Germany and Scandinavia, which to him strikingly exhibited the great antiquity and remote origin of these rhymes. The observation which he made with regard to the countries of Northern Europe, applies to the countries of Central and Southern Europe also. Scholarly collections of rhymes have been published during recent years in Scandinavia, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, and referring to special parts of these countries, which give us a fair insight into their nursery lore. (Cf., p. 212). The comparison of these collections with ours yields surprising results. Often the same thought is expressed in the same form of verse. Frequently the same proper name reappears in the same connection. In many cases rhymes, that seem senseless taken by themselves, acquire a definite meaning when taken in conjunction with their foreign parallels. Judging from what we know of nursery rhymes and their appearance in print, the thought of a direct translation of rhymes in the bulk cannot be entertained. We are therefore left to infer, either that rhymes were carried from one country to another at a time when they were still meaningful, or else that they originated in different countries as the outcome of the same stratum of thought.

The sorting of nursery rhymes according to the number of their foreign parallels, yields an additional criterion as to the relative antiquity of certain rhymes. For those rhymes that embody the more primitive conceptions are those that are spread over the wider geographical area. The above inquiry has shown that pieces such as Mother Hubbard and Three Blind Mice are relatively new, and that all the rhymes formed on the model of Little Miss Muffet go back to the Cushion Dance and to the game of Sally Waters. Rhymes of this kind are entirely without foreign parallels. On the other hand, calls, such as those addressed to the ladybird and the snail, and riddle-rhymes, such as that on Humpty Dumpty, have numerous and close parallels half across Europe.

The ladybird is the representative among ourselves of a large class of insects which were associated with the movement of the sun from the earliest times. The association goes back to the kheper or chafer of ancient Egypt, which has the habit of rolling along the ball that contains its eggs. This ball was identified as the orb of the sun, and the kheper was esteemed as the beneficent power that helped to keep it moving.

A like importance attached to the chafers that had the power of flying, especially to the ladybird (Coccinella septem punctata). In India the insect was called Indragopas, that is "protected by Indra." The story is told how this insect flew too near the sun, singed its wings, and fell back to the earth.[43 - De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, 1872, II, p. 209.]

In Greece the same idea was embodied in the myth of Ikaros, the son of Dædalus, who flew too near the sun with the wings he had made for himself, and, falling into the sea, was drowned. Already the ancient Greeks were puzzled by this myth, which found its reasonable explanation in describing Ikaros as the inventor of sails. He was the first to attach sails to a boat, and sailing westwards, he was borne out to sea and perished.

Among ourselves the ladybird is always addressed in connection with its power of flight. It is mostly told to return to its house or home, which is in danger of being destroyed by fire, and warned of the ruin threatening its children if it fails to fly. But some rhymes address it on matters of divination, and one urges it to bring down blessings from heaven.

The rhyme addressed to the ladybird first appears in the nursery collection of 1744, where it stands as follows: —

1. Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children will burn.

Many variations of the rhyme are current in different parts of the country, which may be tabulated as follows: —

2. Lady cow, lady cow, fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children all roam.

    (1892, p. 326.)
3. Ladycow, Ladycow, fly and be gone,
Your house is on fire, and your children at home.

    (Hallamshire, 1892, p. 326.)
4. Gowdenbug, gowdenbug, fly away home,
Yahr house is bahnt dun, and your children all gone.

    (Suffolk, N. & Q., IV., 55.)
5. Ladybird, ladybird, eigh thy way home,
Thy house is on fire, thy children all roam,
Except little Nan, who sits in her pan
Weaving gold laces as fast as she can.