"The king (George III.) danced all night, and finished with the Hemp-dressers, that lasted two hours."—Memoir of Mrs. Delany.
No. 20.
Virginia Reel.
This dance, which we will not here attempt to describe, is no doubt well known to our readers; but we doubt if any of them has reflected on its significance. It is, in fact, an imitation of weaving. The first movements represent the shooting of the shuttle from side to side, and the passage of the woof over and under the threads of the warp; the last movements indicate the tightening of the threads, and bringing together of the cloth.[70]
There is a very similar Swedish dance, called "Weaving Woollen," in which the words sung are—
Weave the woollen and bind it together,
Let the shuttle go round!
The originally imitative character of the dance is thus well illustrated. The "Hemp-dressers' Dance," in which George III. figured, seems to have resembled this, according to the description quoted in the memoir referred to in the heading of this chapter.
No. 21.
Oats, Pease, Beans, and Barley Grows.
This round, although very familiar to all American children, seems, strangely enough, to be unknown in Great Britain; yet it is still a favorite in France, Provence, Spain, Italy, Sicily, Germany, and Sweden; it was played by Froissart (born 1337), and Rabelais (born 1483); while the general resemblance of the song in European countries proves that in the five centuries through which we thus trace it, even the words have undergone little change. Like the first game of our collection, it is properly a dance rather of young people than of children; and a comparative examination of versions inclines us to the belief that it is of Romance descent. The lines of the French refrain,[71] and the general form of the dance, suggest that the song may probably have had (perhaps in remote classic time) a religious and symbolic meaning, and formed part of rustic festivities designed to promote the fertility of the fields; an object which undoubtedly formed the original purpose of the May festival. So much for conjecture; but, in any case, it is pleasant to think of the many generations of children, in so many widely separated lands, who have rejoiced in the pretty game.
The ring circles, singing, about a child in the centre—
The children now pause, and sing with appropriate gestures—
Thus the farmer sows his seed,
Stands erect and takes his ease,
Stamps his foot, and claps his hands,
And turns about to view his lands.
Waiting for a partner,
Waiting for a partner,
Open the ring and take her in,
And kiss her when you get her in.
The boy selects a girl, and the two kneel in the ring, and salute—
Now you're married, you must obey,
You must be true to all you say,
You must be kind, you must be good,
And make your husband chop the wood.
What we have said of the permanency of the words applies only to the action, the essential part, of the game. The amatory chorus, by which the song is made to serve the purpose of love-making, is very variable. Thus we have the quaint conclusion of the last line at greater length:
And now you're married in Hymen's band,
You must obey your wife's command;
You must obey your constant good,
And keep your wife in hickory wood—
Split the wood and carry it in, [twice]
And then she'll let you kiss her again.
"Splitting the wood" was a very troublesome part of the New England farmer's mÉnage.
More commonplace are the choruses:
You must be good, you must be true,
And do as you see others do.
Or—
And live together all your life,
And I pronounce you man and wife.
Or again—
And love each other like sister and brother,
And now kneel down and kiss each other.[72]
In place of "sister and brother," the malicious wit of little girls substituted "cats and dogs."[73]
In the early part of the century the essential stanza went thus in New Hampshire:
Thus my father sows his seed,
Stands erect and takes his ease,
Stamps his foot, and claps his hands,
Whirls about, and thus he stands.
The Swedish quatrain is nearly the same:
I had a father, he sowed this way,
And when he had done, he stood this way;
He stamped with his foot, he clapped with his hand,
He turned about, he was so glad.
The French rhyme, by its exact correspondence, proves the great antiquity of the formula.[74]
The German game, as is often the case with German children's games and ballads in general, is more modernized than in the other tongues, and has become a coarse jest. It is represented how the farmer sows his oats, cuts it, binds it, carries it home, stores it, threshes it, takes it to market, sells it, spends the money in carousal, comes home drunk, and quarrels with his wife, because she has cooked him no supper! Verily, a satire from the lips of children!
Fauriel, in his history of ProvenÇal literature, alludes to this song, which it seems he had seen danced in Provence, and considers to be derived from, and to represent, choral dances of Greek rustics. "The words of the song," he says, speaking of these ancient dances, "described an action, a succession of different situations, which the dancers reproduced by their gestures. The song was divided into many stanzas, and terminated by a refrain alike for all. The dancers acted or gesticulated only to imitate the action or situation described in each stanza; at the refrain they took each other by the hand and danced a round, with a movement more or less lively. There are everywhere popular dances derived from these, which more or less resemble them.... I remember to have seen in Provence some of these dances, of which the theme seems to be very ancient—one, among the rest, imitating successively the habitual actions of a poor laborer, working in his field, sowing his wheat or oats, mowing, and so on to the end. Each of the numerous couplets of the song was sung with a slow and dragging motion, as if to imitate the fatigue and the sullen air of the poor laborer; and the refrain was of a very lively movement, the dancers then giving way to all their gayety."[75]
The French, Italian, and Spanish versions of this game also represent a series of actions, sowing, reaping, etc., of which our own rhyme has retained only one stanza. There is a whole class of similar rounds, which describe the labors of the farmer, vine-dresser, etc. That such a song, danced in sowing-time, and representing the progress and abundance of the crop, should be supposed to bring a blessing on the labors of the year, is quite in conformity with what we know of popular belief, ancient and modern. When a French savant asked the peasants of La ChÂtre why they performed the dance of "Threading the Needle" (see No. 29), the answer was, "To make the hemp grow." It is not in the least unlikely that the original of the present chant was sung, with a like object, by Italian rustics in the days of Virgil.
No. 22.
Who'll Be the Binder?
Couples circle in a ring about a single player—
It rains, it hails, it's cold stormy weather,
In comes the farmer drinking all the cider;
You be the reaping-boy and I'll be the binder;
I've lost my true love, and don't know where to find her.
Each girl then lets go of her partner's arm, and takes the arm of the one in advance, and the solitary player endeavors meanwhile to slip into the line.
The following is a variation:
It snows and it blows, and it's cold frosty weather,
Here comes the farmer drinking all his cider;
I'll be the reaper, who'll be the binder?
I've lost my true love, where shall I find her?
It is played by children in New York city as a kissing-game in the ring, as follows:
In comes the farmer, drinking all the cider;
I have a true love and don't know where to find her.
Go round the ring, and see if you can find her;
If you cannot find her, go and choose another one.
We meet our game once more in North Germany. But its prettiest form is among the Fins of the Baltic coast, where it is extremely pleasing and pastoral:
Reap we the oat harvest,
Who will come and bind it?
Ah, perhaps his darling,
Treasure of his bosom.
Where have I last seen her?
Yesterday at evening,
Yesterday at morning!
When will she come hither,
With her little household,
With her gentle escort,
People of her village?
Who has not a partner,
Let him pay a forfeit!
It is a remarkable fact that, even where this simple people have borrowed the dramatic idea of an amusement from their more civilized neighbors, they have developed it with a sweetness and grace which put the latter to shame.
No. 23.
As We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.
As we go round the mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush;
As we go round the mulberry bush,
So early in the morning.
This is the way we wash our clothes,
All of a Monday morning.
This is the way we iron our clothes,
All of a Tuesday morning.
This is the way we scrub our floor,
All of a Wednesday morning.
This is the way we mend our clothes,
All of a Thursday morning.
This is the way we sweep the house,
All of a Friday morning.
This is the way we bake our bread,
All of a Saturday morning.
This is the way we go to church,
All of a Sunday morning.
In Massachusetts the song goes—
Here we go round the barberry bush,
So early in the morning.
A variation makes the last line—
No. 24.
Do, Do, Pity my Case.
Do, do, pity my case,
In some lady's garden;
My clothes to wash when I get home,
In some lady's garden.
Do, do, pity my case,
In some lady's garden;
My clothes to iron when I get home,
In some lady's garden.
And so on, the performers lamenting the duty which lies upon them of scrubbing their floors, baking their bread, etc.
Louisiana.
This pretty dance, with its idiomatic English, which comes to us from the extreme South, is obviously not modern. The chorus refers, not to the place of the labor, but to the locality of the dance: it may have been originally in my lady's garden. Our informant remembers the game as danced by negro children, their scanty garments flying as the ring spun about the trunk of some large tree; but (though the naive appeal to pity may seem characteristic of Southern indolence) this is evidently no negro song.
No. 25.
When I Was a Shoemaker.
A ROUND.
When I was a shoemaker,
And a shoemaker was I,
This way,[76] and this way,
And this way went I.
When I was a gentleman,
And a gentleman was I,
This way, and this way,
And this way went I.
When I was a lady,
And a lady was I,
This way, and this way,
And this way went I.
So on, indefinitely. The gentleman places his hands in his waistcoat pockets, and promenades up and down; the lady gathers her skirts haughtily together; the fireman makes a sound in imitation of the horns which firemen formerly blew; the shoemaker and hair-dresser are represented by appropriate motions, etc.
New York streets.
As with most street-games, further inquiry has shown us that the song is old in America. Not merely the substance (which is identical with our last two numbers), but also the expression, is paralleled in France and Italy, and even on the extreme limits of European Russia.
The well-known French name of this game "The Bridge of Avignon,"[77] indicates a high antiquity. This bridge, which figures in French nursery-lore as London Bridge does in our own, was built in 1177. Bridges, in the Middle Age, were the most important structures in the land, places of festivity and solemnity, dances, trials, and executions.
No. 26.
Here We Come Gathering Nuts of May.
Two opposite rows of girls. One side advances and sings, the other side replying:
"Here we come gathering nuts of May, [thrice]
On a May morning early."
"Whom will you gather for nuts of May,
On a May morning early?"
"We'll gather [naming a girl] for nuts of May,
On a May morning early."
"Whom will you send to fetch her away,
On a May morning early?"
"We'll send [naming a strong girl] to pull her away,
On a May morning early."
The game is continued until all players are brought to one side.
Charlestown, W. Va.
This game is probably a recent importation from England, where it is very well known. It seems likely that the imitative dance really belongs to the season of nut-gathering,[78] and that the phrase, "Nuts of May," and the refrain, have crept in from its later use as a May-game.
No. 27.
Here I Brew, and Here I Bake.
A ring of children clasp hands by clenching fingers; a single child within the circle repeats the rhyme, making appropriate gestures over successive pairs of hands; at the last words he (or she) throws himself (or herself) against what is thought the most penetrable point.
Here I brew and here I bake,
And here I make my wedding-cake,
And here I must break through.
The following is a different version:
Here I bake and here I brew,
And here I lay my wedding-shoe,
And here I must and shall break through.
If the first attempt is not successful, the player within the ring runs to attack some other point. After the ring is broken, the child on his right continues the game. In New York, a violent form of the same sport goes by the name of "Bull in the Ring."
No. 28.
Draw a Bucket of Water.
Four girls cross hands, and pull in rhythmical movement against each other while singing, one pair changing the position of their hands from above to below that of the other pair at the words, "Here we go under," etc.
Draw a bucket of water
For my lady's daughter.
One in a rush,
Two in a rush,
Here we go under the mulberry bush.
New York.
In Massachusetts this was a ring game:
Draw a pail of water
For my lady's daughter.
Give her a ring and a silver pin,
And pay for my lady's pop under.
At the last words the girl within the ring endeavors to pass under the hands of one of the couples.
No. 29.
Threading the Needle.
A boy and a girl, standing each on a stool, make an arch of their hands, under which an endless chain passes, until the hands are dropped, and one of the players is enclosed.
The needle's eve
That doth supply
The thread that runs so true;
Ah! many a lass
Have I let pass
Because I wanted you.
Or—
The needle's eye
You can't pass by,
The thread it runs so true;
It has caught many a seemly lass,
And now it has caught you.
Massachusetts.
In the following more complicated form of the game, in use half a century ago, both a boy and a girl were caught by the players who raised their arms:
The needle's eye
None can surpass
But those who travel through;
It hath caught many a smiling lass,
But now it hath caught you.
There's none so sweet
That is dressed so neat;[79]
I do intend,
Before I end,
To make this couple meet.
The pair then kissed, and the game proceeded as in "London Bridge," ending with a tug-of-war.
The name, "Threading the Needle," is still applied, in a district of central France, to a dance in which many hundred persons take part, in which from time to time the pair who form the head of the row raise their arms to allow the line to pass through, coiling and winding like a great serpent.
