Comparative Studies in Nursery Rhymes Part 22

This story of a bird-wedding does not stand alone. From France and Spain come a number of pieces which similarly describe the proposed wedding of birds and end in disaster. In Languedoc one is called _Lou mariage de l'alouseta_, "the wedding of the lark." It begins:--

Lou pinson et l'alouseta Se ne voulien marida. (M. L., p. 490.)

"The spink (_or_ finch) and the lark intended to marry. On the first day of the wedding they had nothing to eat."

A gadfly on his neck brought a loaf, a gnat brought a cask, a b.u.t.terfly a joint, and a sparrow brought grapes. The flea jumped out of the bed and began to dance, and the louse came forth from the rags and seized the flea by the arm. Then the rat came out of his hole and acted as drummer, when in rushed the cat and devoured him.

Exactly the same story is told in much the same form in Catalan of _La golondrina y el pinzon_, "The goldfinch and the swallow," but the verses on the gay rat and the destructive cat are wanting (Mi., p. 398). Other versions have been recorded in the centre and in the North of France, one of which was printed in 1780 (Ro., II, 180, 212; D. B., p. 106).

From thence the song was probably carried to Canada, where it reappears as _Pinson et Cendrouille_, "The finch and the nuthatch" (G., p. 275).

Here the ending is that the rat played the fiddle, and the cat rushed in and spoilt the fun.

These stories of bird-weddings should be compared with one which describes how the flea and the louse combined to set up house together and came to grief. It is told in Catalan of _La purga y er piejo_ (Ma., p. 74). In Languedoc the same story is told of _La fourmiho e le pouzouil_, "the ant and the flea" (M. L., p. 508). In form these pieces closely correspond with our bird-wedding. There is the same communal feast to which the various guests bring contributions, and the same revelry which ends in disaster.

This Spanish piece on the housekeeping of the louse and the flea has a further parallel in the story called _Lauschen und Flohchen_, "The louse and the flea," which is included in the fairy tales of Grimm (No. 30).

But the German story is told in the c.u.mulative form of recitation, and its contents are yet one stage more primitive. There is nothing on a wedding celebration. The louse and the flea set up house together, and began by brewing beer in an eggsh.e.l.l. The flea fell in by inadvertence and was drowned. Then the louse set up the wail. In this the door joined by jarring, the broom by sweeping, the cart by running, the dungheap by reeking, the tree by shaking, till they were all carried away by the brook.

Much the same story, told in c.u.mulative form also and equally primitive, is current among ourselves. It seems to be old (1890, p. 454), and is called _t.i.ttymouse and Tattymouse_. We read how t.i.ttymouse and Tattymouse went a-leasing (gleaning), and set about boiling a pudding.

t.i.tty fell in and was scalded to death. Then Tatty set up the wail. It was joined by the stool that hopped, the besom that swept, the window that creaked, the tree that shed its leaves, the bird that moulted its feathers, and the girl that spilt the milk. Finally an old man fell from a ladder, and all were buried beneath the ruins. t.i.ttymouse and Tattymouse are usually represented as mice, but the word t.i.ttymouse is also allied to t.i.tmouse, a bird. t.i.tty and Tatty are among the many rhyming compounds of which the meaning is no longer clear.

The conceptions on which these pieces are based all recall primitive customs. The wedding is a communal feast to which contributions of different kinds are brought by the several guests. Again the death of one individual draws that of a number of others in its wake. On comparing these various pieces, we find that those which are set in c.u.mulative form, judging from their contents, are the more primitive.

This supports the view that the c.u.mulative form of recitation represents an earlier development in literature than rhymed verse.

The toy-book on _The Courts.h.i.+p of c.o.c.k Robin and Jenny Wren_ attributes the robin's death to the carelessness of the sparrow. The sparrow is also described as causing the death of the robin in the knell of the robin, which is one of our oldest and most finished nursery pieces. The death of the robin is a calamity, his blood is treasured, he is buried with solemnity. In the collections of 1744 and 1771 the knell stands as follows:--

1. Who did kill c.o.c.k Robbin?

I said the sparrow, with my bow and arrow, And I did kill c.o.c.k Robbin.

2. Who did see him die?

I said the fly, with my little eye, And I did see him die.

3. And who did catch his blood?

I said the fish, with my little dish, And I did catch his blood.

4. And who did make his shroud?

I said the beetle, with my little needle, And I did make his shroud.

_The Death and Burial of c.o.c.k Robin_ formed the contents of a toy-book that was printed by Marshall in London, by Rusher in Banbury, and others. One of the early toy-books belonging to Pearson, which are exhibited at South Kensington Museum, contain verses of this knell with quaint ill.u.s.trations. The toy-book published by Marshall which contains the knell, is described as "a pretty gilded toy, for either girl or boy." It leads up to the knell by the following verse, which occurs already as a separate rhyme in the nursery collection of 1744:--

Little Robin Redbreast sitting on [_or_ sat upon] a pole, Niddle noddle [_or_ wiggle waggle] went his head [tail]

And p.o.o.p went his hole.

This is followed by the picture of a dead robin with the words:--

Here lies c.o.c.k Robin, dead and cold, His end this book will soon unfold.

We then read the four verses of the knell already cited, and further verses on the owl so brave that dug the grave; the parson rook who read the book; the lark who said amen like a clerk; the kite who came in the night; the wren, both c.o.c.k and hen; the thrush sitting in a bush; the bull who the bell did pull.

In another toy-book the magpie takes the place of the fly, and from the ill.u.s.tration in a third one we gather that not a bull but a bullfinch originally pulled the bell.

The toy-book published by Marshall concludes:--

All the birds of the air Fell to sighing and sobbing, When they heard the bell toll For poor c.o.c.k Robin. (Reprint 1849, p. 169 ff.)

The antiquity of this knell of the robin is apparent when we come to compare it with its foreign parallels, which are current in France, Italy, and Spain. In these rhymes also, those who undertake the office of burial are usually birds, but the nature of him whose death is deplored remains obscure.

In Germany he is sometimes _s...o...b..od_, sometimes _Ohnebrod_, that is "breadless" (Sim., p. 70), a term which may indicate a pauper. The piece current in Mecklenburg is simpler in form than ours.

Wer is dod?--s...o...b..od.

Wenn ehr ward begraben?

Oewermorgen abend, mit schuffeln un spaden, Kukuk is de kulengraver, Adebor is de klokkentreder, Kiwitt is de schauler, Mit all sin schwester un brauder. (W., p. 20.)

"Who is dead?--Breadless. When will he be buried?--On the eve of the day after to-morrow, with spades and with shovels. The Cuckoo is the gravedigger, the Stork is the bell-ringer, the Pee-wit acts as scholar, with all his sisters and brothers."

The knell that is recited in Languedoc is called _Las Campanas_, the bells. One version begins:--

Balalin, balalan, La campana de Sant Jan Quau la sona? Quau la dis?--Lou curat de Sant-Denis.

Quau sona lous cla.s.ses?--Lous quatre courpatra.s.ses.

Quau porta la caissa?--Lou cat ambe sa maissa.

Quau porta lon dou?--Lou peirou.[72]

"Ding dong, the bell of St. John.--Who tolls it and who says (ma.s.s)?--The priest of St. Denis.--Who sounds the knell?--The four ravens.--Who bears the coffin?--The cat in its maw.--Who wears mourning?--The partridge."

[72] (M. L., p. 225.)

Another version preserves the trait that the individual's possessions took part in the mourning:

"Balanli, balanlau, the bells near Yssingeaux are all tolled through April. Who is dead?--Jan of the Gardens (dos Ort). Who carries him to his grave?--His great coat. Who follows him?--His hat. Who mourns for him?--The frog. Who sings for him?--The toad. Who forsakes him?--His sabots. Who says so?--Jan the less. What shall we give him?--The legs of a dog. Where shall we find them?--Near Chalencons there are plenty." (M. L., p. 232.)

_Jan dos Ort_ in other versions of the knell is called _Jean le Porc_, also _le pere du jardin_; and in the latter case, _le pere pet.i.t_, the little father, p.r.o.nounces him dead, and receives dogflesh (M. L., pp.

226, 230).

The Italian knell is quite short:--

Who is dead?--Beccatorto.

Who sounds the knell?--That rascal of a punch.

(Quel birbon de pulcinella, Ma., p. 133.)

The Spanish knell is not much longer:--

?Quien s'ha muerto.--Juan el tuerto.

?Quien lo llora.--La senora.

?Quien lo canta.--Su garganta.

?Quien lo chilla.--La chiquilla. (Ma., p. 62.)

"Who is dead?--Crooked Juan. Who mourns for him?--The swallow. Who sings for him?--His coat. Who calls for him?--The quail."

Victor Smith, with reference to these chants, enlarged on the possible nature of Jan, or Juan, of the French and Spanish versions, who is called also "the father of the gardens," and who was given dogflesh to eat. In ill.u.s.tration he adduced the legend of the G.o.d Pan, who was looked upon as the father of gardens, and who was supposed to eat dogflesh (M. L., p. 227). Dogs were sacrificed at the Lupercalia which were kept in April, and the month of April is actually mentioned in one of the French chants. If this interpretation is correct, the knells on Jan current in France and Spain preserve the remembrance, not of a bird sacrifice, but of a dog sacrifice. But the Italian name Beccatorto is probably crossbill (R., II, 160), and birds appear as the chief mourners in most of the foreign chants, as they do in ours.