Part 16

Connected with this game in Massachusetts is a curious piece of local lore. A lady[128] recollects that, in the first years of the century, a pedler came to her father's house in Plymouth, Mass., and, in default of three cents change, left a "chap-book" or pamphlet of that value, called "Mother Goose's Melodies." In this pamphlet (the first authentic mention of a publication of that title) the song was included, in the familiar words; but, instead of _London_ bridge, _Charlestown_ bridge was substituted in the rhyme. In that form only the verses were familiar to herself and her companions.

Charlestown Bridge, over Charles River, connected Boston with Cambridge and other suburban towns, before that time only accessible by ferry or a long detour. The bridge was "dedicated" July 17, 1786; and was, in the eyes of the rustic population of Massachusetts, quite as important a structure as the London erection of the thirteenth century. The project was undertaken after a long incubation of sixty years, and not without many apprehensions lest the vast masses of ice rushing down the river in winter should sweep it away. The cost was fifteen thousand pounds. At the celebration, a salute of thirteen guns was fired from Fort Hill, "almost every person of respectable character in private and public life walked in the procession," and eight hundred persons sat down to dinner. No wonder that its fame superseded, locally at least, that of the celebrated structure which was so long the wonder of London, and so sacred in nursery lore. We may thus form an idea of the importance of bridges in earlier times--which importance, and the superstitions consequent, were the root of our game--and also of the tendency of each town to localize its traditions, even those of the nursery.

With the exception of the name, the words of the song, in the chap-book referred to, were identical with those of the familiar English version. We learn from another informant that these same words (this time, however, under the proper title of London Bridge) were often used as a dance-song at children's parties about the beginning of the century. The dancers sat in a circle, a boy next a girl; as each verse was sung, the lad whose turn it was led out his partner and promenaded, suiting action to meaning. The exact verbal correspondence, and absence of the original mode of playing, show that this version of the song, and consequently the rhymes of the pamphlet called "Mother Goose's Melodies," were not taken from the lips of Americans, but reprinted from English sources.

The version repeatedly printed in books for children is not truly popular. It has been remodelled by the recorder, and so the original idea has been disguised. We have, however, the pleasure of offering a genuine English version. We add fragments of American forms, and finally a curious text, for which Ireland is ultimately responsible. From these, taken together, the character of the old English game can be made out.

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A.--Song of Charlestown Bridge, as printed (probably about 1786) in the chap-book, "Mother Goose's Melodies:"

Charlestown Bridge is broken down, Dance o'er my lady Lee; Charlestown Bridge is broken down, With a gay lady.

How shall we build it up again? Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Build it up with silver and gold, Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Silver and gold will be stole away, Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Build it up with iron and steel, Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Iron and steel will bend and bow, Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Build it up with wood and clay, Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Wood and clay will wash away, Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.

Build it up with stone so strong, Dance o'er my lady Lee, Huzza! 'twill last for ages long, With a gay lady.

B.--

London Bridge is broken down, Dance over my lady Lee; London Bridge is broken down, With the gay lady.

How shall we mend it up again? Dance over my lady Lee; How shall we mend it up again For the gay lady?

We will mend it up with gravel and sand, Dance over my lady Lee; We will mend it up with gravel and sand For the gay lady.

But gravel and sand will wash away, Dance over my lady Lee; Gravel and sand will wash away From the gay lady.

We will mend it up with iron and steel, Dance over my lady Lee; We will mend it up with iron and steel For the gay lady.

But iron and steel will bend and break, Dance over my lady Lee; Iron and steel will bend and break, With the gay lady.

We will mend it up with silver and gold, Dance over my lady Lee; We will mend it up with silver and gold For the gay lady.

Silver and gold will be stolen away, Dance over my lady Lee; Silver and gold will be stolen away From the gay lady.

We will put a man to watch all night, Dance over my lady Lee; We will put a man to watch all night For the gay lady.

Suppose the man should fall asleep? Dance over my lady Lee; Suppose the man should fall asleep? My gay lady!

We will put a pipe into his mouth, Dance over my lady Lee; We will put a pipe into his mouth, For the gay lady.[129]

C.--

London Bridge is falling down, Falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, My fair lady!

You've stole my watch and kept my keys, My fair lady!

Off to prison she must go, My fair lady!

Take the key and lock her up, My fair lady![130]

--_Boston, Mass._

D.--

London Bridge is falling down, My fair lady!

What did the robber do to you? My fair lady!

He broke my watch and stole my keys, My fair lady!

Then off to prison he must go, My fair lady!

--_Savannah, Ga._

E.--Our last version is from the convent-school of Savannah, and, although recited by a girl of American birth, is of Irish origin:

London Bridge is falling down, etc. _My fair lady!_ How shall we build it up again?-- Build it up with lime and stone.-- Stone and lime would wash away.-- Build it up with iron bars.-- Iron bars would bend and break.-- Build it up with gold and silver.-- Gold and silver would be stole away.-- Get a watch to watch all night.-- Suppose the watch should fall asleep?-- Get him a pipe to smoke all night.-- Suppose the pipe should fall and break?-- Get a dog to bark all night.-- Suppose the dog should get a bone?-- Get a cock to crow all night.-- Suppose the cock should fly away?-- What has this poor prisoner done?-- He's broke my box and stole my keys.-- A hundred pounds will set him free.-- A hundred pounds he has not got.-- Off to prison he must go, _My fair lady!_[131]

As to the origin of this remarkable game, our citations have already made clear that one of its features consists in a representation of the antagonism of celestial and infernal powers, and the final decision by which each soul is assigned a place on the one side or the other. It was universally believed in the Middle Ages, that the soul, separated from the body, had to cross a dangerous bridge, and subsequently undergo a literal weighing in the balance, according to the result of which its destiny was decided. It is in the nature of things that children, conversant with these ideas, should have dramatized them in their sports. We see no reason, with the German writers, to go back to ancient Northern mythology; nor do we find any ground for believing that our game is more likely to be of Teutonic than Romance descent.

We suspect, however, that that part of the sport which relates to the warfare of good and evil powers does not belong to the original idea, but that a still more primitive game has taken on an ending which was common to many amusements in the Middle Ages. The central point of the whole is the repeated downfall of the structure. Now there is a distinct mythologic reason for such a representation. In early times no edifice was so important as a bridge, which renders intercourse possible between districts heretofore separated. Hence the sanctity attributed in mediæval times to the architects of bridges. The Devil, or (in more ancient guise) the elemental spirit of the land, who detests any interference with the solitude he loves, has an especial antipathy to bridges. His repeated and successful attempts to interfere with such a structure, until he is bought off with an offering like that of Iphigenia, are recorded in legends which attach to numerous bridges in Europe. It is on such supernatural opposition that the English form of the game appears to turn. The structure, which is erected in the daytime, is ruined at night; every form of material--wood, stone, and gold--is tried in vain; the vigilance of the watchman, or of the cock and the dog--guardian animals of the darkness--is insufficient to protect the edifice from the attack of the offended spirits.

The child arrested seems to be originally regarded as the price paid for allowing the structure to stand. In times when all men's thoughts were concerned about the final judgment, a different turn was given to the sport--namely, whether the prisoner should belong to the devils or to the angels, who wage perpetual warfare, and dispute with each other the possession of departed souls. Finally, in quite recent days, religious allusions were excluded, and the captive, now accused of mere theft, was sentenced to be locked up, not in the Inferno, but in a commonplace jail.

No. 151.

_Open the Gates._

This game is a variation of the last, and is played similarly, ending with a "tug of war," as described on page 204.

Open the gates as high as the sky, And let the King of Spain pass by; Choose one, Choose two, Choose a pretty little girl like you.

More usual is a shorter rhyme, thus:

Open the gates as high as the sky, And let King George and his troops[132] pass by.

No. 152.

_Weighing._

Two children, linking hands, form a "basket" (each grasping with the left hand the right wrist of the other, and with the right hand his left wrist), in which another child is lifted, who embraces with his arms the necks of his bearers. He is then swung to and fro, and finally made to strike the wall. If he lets go his hold, he is called "Rotten egg," which is regarded as a highly ignominious name.

This title is also applied to the child who lets go in the "tug of war" in "London Bridge." A similar lifting in a basket (as we have been told by one who remembered so playing in youth) formed, in Philadelphia, part of the same game.

The original meaning of this exercise is made clear by an Italian counterpart, in which it is called "Weighing." The child after being lifted is made to jump over one of the lowered arms of his bearers, and if he escapes from their grasp is destined for _Paradise_, otherwise for the _Inferno_. The French usage is the same.[133] Weighing, to decide whether the child should be angel or devil, sometimes forms part, also, of the German game corresponding to "London Bridge."

Another English game shows us a relic of this practice--namely, that called "Honey-pots," from which, as usual in children's sports, the original religious idea has disappeared. A child is lifted and swung until the hold is relaxed, when the _pot_ is said to weigh so many pounds.[134]

Other tests used in German games to decide whether a child shall be an angel or not, are--tickling, in which a sober face must be kept; jumping over a cord, or measuring the height. These customs of play are surviving forms of usages once equally common in English sports.

No. 153.

_Colors._

A.--A row of children, on the doorsteps of a house, or against a chamber wall. Opposite each other stand two girls, representing, one the good, the other the bad, angel. Every child selects a color. The mother stands at the foot of the steps. The "Good Angel" knocks at the door (_i.e._, the side of the flight of house-steps), and is answered by the mother:

"Who's knocking at the door?" "The Angel with the Golden Star." "What do you want?" "Blue" (or any color).

The "Good Angel" names a color. If this color is represented among the children, the angel takes the child, but if the application is unsuccessful, must retire, whereon the "Bad Angel," or the "Angel with the Pitchfork," comes forward in like manner. When all the children are divided, a "tug of war" ensues, as in "London Bridge."

This form of the game is probably a recent translation from the German, by New York children.[135]

B.--In the convent-school of Savannah, Ga., as we learn from a former pupil, birds instead of colors represented the children, and the formula was, "Barn, barn,[136] who comes here?" It was replied, "Good angel," or "Bad angel." The angels then "fought and tried to get the child."

C.--In Philadelphia there is a game in which the children, having received birds' names, are pursued by the mother, and, if captured, are put into the slop-bowl; otherwise, into the sugar-bowl.

Similarly, in a Swiss game, we have the mother and a bird-catcher. The latter endeavors to guess the titles of the children, who are called after birds or colors. When the name of a child is guessed, she takes flight, and if she can escape, returns to the mother; if caught, she belongs to the pursuer, and the game ends with a "tug of war."

Corresponding is the French game of "Animals." The devil and a purchaser are first chosen. The seller names the animals, and shuts them up in an enclosure. The devil, who has not heard the naming, comes up[137] and guesses the title of the beast. If he guesses right, the seller says "Go!" while the animal makes a circuit to return to his den. The devil must first buy (with so many taps on the palm of the hand of the dealer) the beast, before he can pursue. If he catches the latter, he marks him with three blows on the head and tail, and the animal becomes the devil's dog. The game finishes when all the animals have been so captured.

The conflict which ends this game is curious. In Switzerland, the angel who obtains a child carries it in his arms within his limit, and the devil similarly. After all the children are divided, a struggle begins, the devils defending themselves with claws, the angels with wings. In Austria the boundary between Heaven and Hell is marked out by a piece of wood, called "Fire." Each child grasps the waist of his predecessor with both arms, the leaders join hands over the "Fire," and the contest lasts until all are pulled to one side or the other.

These battles between opposing supernatural forces rest on a basis older than Christianity. The "Game of the Shell" is thus described by Pollux: "The shell-game; where the boys draw a line on the ground and choose sides, one side selecting the outside of a shell, the other the inside. One who stands on the line having thrown up the shell, whichever face comes uppermost, those who belong to that give chase, and the other party turn and fly. Any fugitive who gets caught is called the _ass_. He who pitches the shell says, 'Night, day;' for the outside is smeared with pitch, and signifies night; whence this boys' game is also called the 'turning of the shell.'"

The word _ass_ here means that the boy caught had to carry home his pursuer on his back.

Plato alludes to this game in the "Republic," saying of the efforts of the soul to pass from the realm of darkness to that of light, "it does not depend on the turn of a shell."

We thus see the successive mental conceptions of antiquity, the Middle Ages, and modern time reflected in the changes of children's sports.

No. 154.

_Old Witch._

A.--Ten girls, a mother, a witch, and eight children--namely, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and the eldest daughter Sue. The mother, preparing to go out, addresses her children:

Now all you children stay at home, And be good girls while I am gone; Let no one in[138] * * * * * Especially you, my daughter Sue, Or else I'll beat you black and blue.[139]

The witch knocks at the door, and is refused entrance by the children. She beguiles them by promises to admit her, which they finally do. She then holds out her pipe (a bit of stick), which she carries between her teeth, saying to Sue, "Light my pipe!" Sue refusing, she makes the same demand to each child, in the order of the days of the week, in which they are ranged. All refuse till she reaches the last, who consents and touches her pipe, whereupon the witch seizes her hand, and drags her out of the house to her "den."

The mother then returns, counts the children, and Sue is questioned and punished. This is played over until each child is taken, Sue last.

When the mother has lost all her children, the witch calls, and invites her to dinner. Upon going to the witch's door, she finds a table set for the meal, and the witch asks her to order a dish to suit her taste. She does so, whereupon the witch produces Sunday, and lays her upon the table, with considerable assistance from Sunday.

A very amusing dialogue now ensues between the witch and the mother. The former urges the mother to eat, with many blandishments, and the mother (recognizing her child) declines, with such excuses as any ingenious child can devise.

The mother, upon pretence of inability to eat the food, calls for another dish, and, when the witch leaves the room, hurries the child from the table and places her behind the chair. When the witch returns, she says that she found the dish so good that she ate it all, and calls for another.

Each child is produced in turn, with the same result. When all are arranged behind their mother, she calls for another dish, and when the witch leaves the room to get it, runs home with all her children.

_Hartford, Conn._

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Our second version (B) is from the lips of a little girl in New York city. The persons represented are the same, except that a servant instead of one of the daughters is left to take care of the children. Scene, the doorsteps, or "stoop," of a New York dwelling-house.

_Mother_ [_sings_]. Chickany, chickany, crany, crow. Went to the well to wash her great toe, And when she came back her chicken was dead.[140]

[_To Servant_]. I am going out, and let nobody come in.

[_Exit. Enter presently, Witch._

_Witch_ [_to Servant_]. Give me a match to light my pipe.

_Servant._ I haven't any.

_Witch._ Your kettle's boiling over.

_Servant._ No.

_Witch._ Your kettle is boiling over.

_Servant_ [_goes to look_]. _Witch seizes a child and carries her off._ [_Re-enter Mother._

_Mother_ [_to servant_]. Where's my Monday?

_Servant._ Under the table.

_Mother_ [_calls_]. Monday!

_Servant._ Up in the band-box![141]

_Mother._ How to get up?

_Servant._ Put two broken chairs on a broken table.

_Mother._ Suppose I should fall and break my neck?

_Servant._ Good enough for you.

Mother beats servant, but recovering from her loss, goes out again. Witch enters as before, and carries off successively all the children, and at last the servant. Witch then puts the children in a row, cooks them, and makes them into pies, naming them apple-pie, peach-pie, etc. Mother goes out to buy pies.

_Mother_ [_to Witch_]. Have you any pies?

_Witch_. Yes, some very nice apple-pies, which you will like.

_Mother_ [_tastes_]. This tastes like my Monday. [_Re-animates Monday_.] Monday, who brought you here? [_Beats her, and sends her home._]

The mother proceeds in the same manner, and brings to life the other children.

C.--The name of the witch in this variation is "Old Mother Cripsy-crops," and the game begins by playing No. 89. When the mother goes out, the children call after her, "Old mother, the kettle boils." She answers, "Take a spoon and stir it." "We haven't got any." "Buy one." "We have no money." "Borrow," says the mother. "People won't lend," reply the children.

The witch comes in, and entices Sunday away by fine promises. When the mother comes back, she inquires, "Where's my Sunday?" The children make some excuse, as, "Perhaps he has gone down cellar," etc. She tells Tuesday to take care of Monday, as she had previously placed Monday in charge of Sunday, and goes out again, when the same scene is repeated, until all the children have been carried off.

The mother now calls at the witch's house, and asks to be let in. The witch refuses, saying, "No, your shoes are too dirty." "But I will take off my shoes." "Your stockings are too dirty." "Then I will take off my stockings." "Your feet are too dirty." "I will cut off my feet." "That would make the carpet all bloody." "But I must see my children, and you have got them." "What should I know about your children? But if you like you may call to-morrow at twelve."

The mother departs, and as soon as she is gone the witch goes to the children and renames them all. One she calls Mustard, another Pepper, another Salt, another Vinegar, etc. Then she turns their faces to the wall, and tells them to give these names if they are asked who they are. The mother calls again at the house of the witch, and this time is admitted. She asks the children what their names are, and they all answer as they were instructed by the witch. She then asks the first child to let her feel his toe. He puts up his foot, and when the mother feels it she says, "This is my Sunday! let your big toe carry you home;" whereupon he runs off. The same process is gone through with all the other children.

D.--To the mother (this time present), in the midst of her children, approaches the witch, who comes limping, leaning on a cane. The dialogue is between mother and witch.

"There's old mother Hippletyhop; I wonder what she wants to-day?" "I want one of your children." "Which one do you want?"

The witch names any child of the row.

"What will you give her to eat?" "Plum-cake" (a different delicacy for each child).

The witch carries off the child, and observes: "Walk as I do, or else I'll kill you." She takes the child home and kills her, then returns for another. When all are gone the mother goes out to look for her children. She goes to the witch's house, and finds all the children (presumed to be dead) against the wall, making the most horrible faces. She points to a child, and asks, "What did [Mary] die of?" "She died of sucking her thumbs" (naming the child's gesture). Suddenly all the children come to themselves, and cry out, "Oh, mother, we are not dead!"

_Portsmouth, N. H._

E.--In a fifth version, which we have failed to obtain in full, the witch changed the children into birds; and the mother, in order to recover them, must guess the name of the bird. Colors, instead of birds, were also used to represent the children.

F.--We have already spoken of the old English game of "Honey-pots" as an imitation of "Weighing." This trait, however, as might be supposed from its insignificant character, is a mere fragment of the original. In London (as we learn from an informant of the laboring class, who remembers taking part in the amusement), a child as market-woman arranges the rest in a row to indicate honey-pots, each with its specific flavor. While she is busy at one end of the row, a thief comes in and steals a pot from the other end. This process is repeated, until all the pots are taken. The dealer then goes out to buy honey-pots, and recognizes her own by the flavor, so recovering the stolen goods.

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