HEATHEN CHANTS OF THE CREED

WE now turn to those versions of the Chant of the Creed which are heathen in character. Again we have versions before us in the vernacular of Brittany, Spain, Scotland, and several set in the form of songs that are current in different parts of England.

The most meaningful and elaborate versions of the chant come from Brittany. One is called Les vÊpres des grenouilles. It is set in the form of instruction, and begins:—

"Chant well, Killore. Iolic, what shall I sing?—The most beautiful thing thou knowest."

And it enumerates, "One silver ring to Mary, two silver rings, three queens in a palace, four acolytes, five black cows, six brothers and six sisters, seven days and seven moons, eight beaters of the air, nine armed sons, ten ships on the shore, eleven sows, twelve small swords." This combination of objects with numbers from one to twelve agrees most closely with the enumeration of the game of Twelve Days.

The longer version of the Breton chant was interpreted by its editor as a chant of instruction, and he claimed for it a Druidical origin. It begins:—

Beautiful child of the Druid, answer me right well.

—What would'st thou that I should sing?—

Sing to me the series of number one, that I may learn it this very day.

—There is no series for one, for One is Necessity alone, the father of death, there is nothing before and nothing after.

And we read of two as oxen yoked to a cart; of three as the beginning, the middle, and the end of the world for man and for the oak; also of the three kingdoms of Merlin; of four as the stones of Merlin for sharpening the swords of the brave; of five as the terrestrial zones, the divisions of time, the rocks on one sister (sic); of six as babes of wax quickened into life through the power of the moon; of seven as the suns, the moons, and the planets, including La Poule (i.e. the constellation) of Charles's Wain; of eight as the winds that blow, eight fires with the great fire lighted in the month of May on the War Mountain; of nine as little white hands near the tower of Lezarmeur, and as maidens who groan; of nine also as maidens who dance with flowers in their hair and in white robes around the well by the light of the moon; 'the wild sow and her young at the entrance to their lair, are snorting and snarling, snarling and snorting; little one, little one, hurry to the apple-tree, the wild boar will instruct you'; of ten as the enemy's boats on the way from Nantes, 'woe to you, woe to you, men of Vannes'; of eleven as priests 'coming from Vannes with broken swords and blood-stained garments, and crutches of hazel-wood, of three hundred only these eleven ones are left'; of twelve as months and signs, 'Sagittarius, the one before the last, lets fly his pointed arrow. The twelve signs are at war. The black cow with a white star on her forehead rushes from the forest (des despouillÉs) pierced by a pointed arrow, her blood flows, she bellows with raised head. The trumpet sounds, fire and thunder, rain and wind. No more, no more, there is no further series.' (H. V., p. 1.)

The contents of this chant in several particulars agree with the shorter one. Seven stands for days, eight for winds, and ten for boats.

A similar chant comes from Spain, which gives the answers with a curious variation. For in this case most of the numbers are explained as one less of one kind and one more of another. Thus one stands for the Wheel of Fortune; two for one clock and bell; three for the handle of a mortar (? la mano del almiles); four for three basins and one dish; five for three jars of red wine and two of white (or for the wounds of St. Francis); six for the loves you hold (amores que teneis); seven for six cassocks and a cape; eight for seven butchers and one sheep; nine for eight hounds and one hare; ten for the toes; eleven for ten horsemen and one leader (breva, ? acorn); twelve are probably pigs.

Exactly as in the other chants the numbers are set in question and answer, the answer being in cumulative form:—

"Who will tell me what is one?—One is the Wheel of Fortune," and so forth.

In this Spanish version there is the alternative of associating five with the jars of wine of Cana or with the wounds of St. Francis, both of which are Christian conceptions that occur in the Christian chants—the wounds of St. Francis in the Italian chant, and the jugs of wine, six in number, in the chant as it is sung and danced in Canada. Christian conceptions are also introduced into some of the numerous versions of the heathen Chants of the Creed that are current among ourselves, but they are relatively few, and by their nature suggest a change from heathen to Christian matters of belief.

The oldest version of this chant was printed by Chambers from an unpublished collection of songs by P. Buchan. It is in dialogue form, and, as in the case of the Druidical chants, its words indicate a teacher who is instructing his pupils:—

Four's the gospel-makers, five's the hymnlers o' my bower, six the echoing waters, seven's the stars in heaven, eight's the table rangers, nine's the muses of Parnassus, ten's the commandments, eleven's maidens in a dance, twelve's the twelve apostles.

Further variations of this chant have been recovered in Dorsetshire, Cornwall, Derbyshire, Norfolk, and elsewhere. Many of them at the close of each line insert the interjection O in the place of the word boys. This drew the suggestion from Dr. Jessopp that the song was connected with the so-called Seven great Os, a song sung at vespers during Advent before the Magnificat from 16 December to Christmas Eve. It took its name from the first line in the song, which begins O Sapientia.

The Dorsetshire version is still sung at Eton, and is known as "Green grow the rushes oh," the words that form the chorus:—

Solo: I'll sing you one oh!

Chorus: Green grow the rushes oh!
What is your one oh?

Solo: One is one and all alone
And ever more shall be so. [57]

The same order is observed for the next verse, the soloist explaining two, the chorus adding one, and so forth. In this version we have two lily-white boys, three rivals, four gospel makers, five symbols at your door, six proud walkers, seven stars in the sky, eight bold rainers, nine bright shiners, ten commandments, eleven for the eleven that went up to heaven, twelve for the twelve apostles.

A Chant of the Creed is sung in Cornwall by the sailors, and begins:—

The explanations which follow are very corrupt. Two are lily-white maids clothed all in green, oh!; three are bright shiners; four are gospel-makers; five are the ferrymen in a boat and one of them a stranger; six is the cheerful waiter; seven are the stars in the sky; eight are the archangels; nine are the bold rainers; ten are the commandments; eleven went up to heaven; twelve are the apostles.[58]

In Derbyshire the chant is associated with the harvest festival, and takes the form of a drinking song. It begins with three, but the explanations of one and two are preserved in the last verse, in which the song is carried back to its real beginning:—

The last verse enumerates:—Twelve apostles; eleven archangels; ten commandments; nine bright shiners; eight, the Gabriel riders; seven golden stars in heaven; six came on the board; five by water; four Gospel rhymers; three threble thribers; two lily-white maids and one was dressed in green O.[59]

This version of the chant was sung or recited at harvest-time in Norfolk also, and began:—

Two's the lily-white boys—three's the rare O—four's the gospel makers—five's the thimble in the bowl—six is the provokers—seven's the seven stars in the sky—eight is[Pg 161] the bright walkers—nine's the gable rangers—ten's the ten commandments—'leven's the 'leven evangelists—twelve's the twelve apostles.[60]

The version current in Herefordshire is preserved as far as number eight only:—

Some of our nursery rhymes which are nonsensical represent these lines in a further degradation:—

And the following, in which "sticks" takes the place of crucifix, while "straight" recalls crooked straight:—

The rhyme is sometimes continued as far as twenty:—

The tabulation of the explanations of numbers of these various songs will give an idea of the degradation to which words are liable, when they have lost their meaning. It shows also that some information can be recovered from comparing what is apparently nonsensical.

From this table we see that the thrivers of Scotland are threble thribers in Derbyshire. These, according to the explanation of Addy, are the three Norns or white ladies,[62] and this view is supported by the three queens of the one Breton chant, which probably suggested The Three Maries of the one Spanish version.

Again, the table rangers of the Scottish song are Gabriel riders, otherwise known as Gabriel hounds or gabbe ratches in Derbyshire. Gabriel hounds is a word applied to the winds. The winds are also associated with eight in the one Breton chant. In Cornwall bright shiners are associated with three, but in Dorsetshire and Derbyshire bright shiners are associated with nine, and nine is the number of maidens in one Breton chant also. We are reminded of the priestesses who were devoted to religious rites on some island of the Atlantic, perhaps Ushant, off Brittany, when Pytheas, in the fourth century before Christ, visited these shores. Nine of them attended a famous oracle, and professed to control the weather.

The interest of these chants is increased when we compare them with what folk-lore preserves on the subject. The followers of Mohammed tell a tale which describes how a rich man promised a poor man his ox if he could explain to him the numbers, and the following dialogue ensued:—

What is one and not two?—God is one.

What is two and not three?—Day and night [or the sun and the moon].

And further: three for divorces from one's wife; four for the Divine books (i.e. the Old and New Testament, the Psalter and the Koran); five for the states of Islam; six for the realms in Nizam; seven for the heavens that surround the throne of God (A., II, 230).

The same story in a more primitive form is told in Ditmarschen, a district bordering on Holstein, in which also the numbers are carried to seven only. But in this case a peasant's property stood forfeited to the "little man in grey," unless he found an explanation to the numbers. He despaired of doing so, when Christ intervened and instructed him as follows:—

One stands for wheelbarrow; two stands for a cart; three for a trivet; four for a waggon; five stands for the fingers of the hand; six for the working days of the week; seven for the stars of the Great Bear. And the peasant remained in the possession of his goods (R., p. 137).

More primitive still is the story as told in Little Russia. In this case a man bartered away his soul for six pigs. After three years the devil came to fetch him. But the devil was met by an old, old man who successfully cheated him of his due. The dialogue between them was: "Who is in the house?—One and not one (that is two). And how about two?—It is well to thrash two at a time. It is well to travel three at a time. He who has four has a waggon. He who has five sons has company. Six pigs the devil had, but he left them with a poor man, and now he has lost them for ever" (A., II, 227).

The comparison of these stories with the Chants of the Creed shows that the dialogue stories are older in contents, and probably in form also, than the cumulative pieces. In both, superhuman power is conveyed by associating numbers with objects. This power in the dialogue pieces is attributed to the "little man in grey" of the German piece, who may be intended for Death, and to the devil in the Russian piece. In the pieces where numbers are associated with Christian articles of belief, the superhuman power is attributed to a popular saint, viz. St. Simeon in Denmark and St. Nicholas in Italy, who make use of their power to overcome Satan.

The dialogue stories explain the numbers only as far as six or seven. This in itself indicates that they are relatively early. Some of the explanations they contain reappear in the cumulative Chants of the Creed, both in their Christian and in their heathen variations. Thus the "one wheel" of the wheelbarrow in the German dialogue story, reappears as the Wheel of Fortune in the Spanish chant, and as the "One that walks alone" of the Scottish chant. Perhaps this idea underlies the one O, or circle of our late English songs also. Two in the dialogue story is explained as a cart; one Breton Chant of the Creed associates two with an ox-cart also. In the Mohammedan dialogue story two is explained as the sun and moon, and this explanation reappears in the Christian chant as sung in the Abruzzi. Six, which the German dialogue story explains as the working days of the week, has the same meaning in our song of the New Dyall. Seven, which the German dialogue story associates with the constellation of Charles's Wain, reappears as La Poule in the Breton Chant of the Creed, as seven bright shiners in our English songs, and as the stars seen by Joseph in the Latin Chant.

These points of likeness cannot be due to mere chance; they indicate a relationship between all the pieces which associate objects with numbers. There has been some discussion as to which Chant of the Creed has the greater claim to priority—whether the Breton was based on the Christian, or the Christian on the Hebrew, and how these stand in relation to the various heathen chants. But the analysis of these pieces renders it probable that they are all derived from an earlier prototype, and this prototype is perhaps to be sought in the dialogue stories. For in the Chants of the Creed the explanations of the numbers are often abstract in meaning, whereas in the dialogue pieces they are simple objects, mostly wheels or circles, which may well have appeared magical in themselves to the primitive mind. Again, the purpose of the Chants of the Creed is to convey religious instruction as a protection against the devil, while in the dialogue stories in the last instance the theme is the acquisition of pigs, and pigs were esteemed valuable possessions from a remote period of antiquity.

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