Part 22
They're good enough for you, sir! &c.
I'll walk the kitchen and the hall, And take the fairest of them all; The fairest one that I can see Is Miss ---- So Miss ----, come to me.
Now we've got this pretty girl, This pretty girl, this pretty girl; Now we've got this pretty girl, Of a cold and frosty morning.
--Symondsbury, Dorsetshire (_Folk-lore Journal_, vii. 222-223).
XIV. Here come three dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding, Here come three dukes a-riding; With a ransom, tansom, tisamy, tea!
What is your good will, sirs? &c.
My good will is to marry, &c.
One of my fair daughters? &c.
You're all too black and browsy, &c.
Quite as good as you, sirs, &c.
[The dukes select a girl who refuses to go to them.]
O, naughty maid! O, naughty maid! You won't come out to me! You shall see a blackbird, A blackbird and a swan; You should see a nice young man Persuading you to come.
--Wrotham, Kent (Miss Dora Kimball).
XV. Here comes a duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding; Here comes a duke a-riding, to my nancy, pancy, disimi, oh!
Which of us will you have, sir? &c.
You're all so fat and greasy, &c.
We're all as clean as you, sir, &c.
Come down to my kitchen, come down to my hall, I'll pick the finest of you all. The fairest is that girl I shall say, "Come to me."
I will buy a silk and satin dress, to trail a yard as we go to church, Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk? Madam, will you marry me?
I will buy you a gold watch and chain, to hang by your side as we go to church; Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk? Madam, will you marry me?
I will buy you the key of the house, to enter in when my son's out; Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk? Madam, will you marry me?
--Earls Heaton, Yorks. (H. Hardy).
XVI. Here comes one duke a-riding, With a rancey, tancey, tiddy boys, O! Rancey, tancey, tay!
Pray which will you take of us, sir? &c.
You're all as dark as gipsies, &c.
Quite good enough for you, &c.
Then we'll take this one, &c.
[After all are taken, the dukes say]--
Now we've got this bonny bunch, &c.
--Hurstmonceux, Sussex, about 1880 (Miss E. Chase).
[A Devon variant gives for the third verse--
You are all too black and ugly, and ugly, and ugly.
And--
You are all too black and _browsie_, &c.
With the additional verse--
I walked through the kitchen, I walked through the hall, For the prettiest and fairest Of you all.
Ending with--
Now I have got my bonny lass, &c.
And something like--
Will you come and dance with me?
--Devon (Miss E. Chase)].
XVII. Here comes a duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding; Here comes a duke a-riding to the ransy, tansy, tay!
Pray what do you come riding for? &c.
For one of your fairy [? fair] daughters, &c.
Will either one of these do? &c.
They're all too black and too dirty, &c.
They're quite as clean as you, sir, &c.
Suppose, then, I take you, Miss, &c.
--Clapham, London (Mrs. Herbertson).
[Another version is played by the duke announcing that he wants a wife. The circle of maids and duke then reply to each other as follows:--
Open the door and let him in.
They're all as stiff as pokers.
Quite as good as you, sir.
I suppose I must take one of them?
Not unless you like, sir.
I choose the fairest of you all, The fairest one that I can see Is ----, come to me.
--Clapham Middle-class Girls School (Mrs. Herbertson)].
XVIII. Here comes the duke a-riding, With my rantum, tantum, tantum, tee! Here comes the duke a-riding, With my rantum, tantum, tee!
What does the duke a-riding want? With his rantum, tantum, tantum, tee, &c.
The youngest and fairest daughter you've got, &c.
--Dublin (Mrs. Coffey).
XIX. Here comes a duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding; Here comes a duke a-riding, a ransom, tansom, tee!
What is your good will, sir, &c.
My will is for to marry, &c.
Will ever a one of us do? &c.
You're all so black and so browsy. You sit in the sun and get frowsy, With golden chains about your necks, You're all so black and so browsy.
Quite as good as you, sir, &c.
[There is more of this, but it has been forgotten by my authority.]
--Thos. Baker, junr. (_Midland Garner_, N. S., ii. 32).
XX. Here comes a duke a-riding, With a ransom, tansom, titta passee! Here comes a duke a-riding, With a ransom, tansom, tee!
Pray what is your good will, sir? With a ransom, tansom, titta passee! Pray what is your good will, sir? With a ransom, tansom, tee!
My will is for to marry you (as above).
Pray which of us will you have, sir? &c.
Through the gardens and through the hall, With a ransom, tansom, titta passee! I choose the fairest of you all, With a ransom, tansom, tee!
--Settle, Yorks. (Rev. W. G. Sykes).
XXI. There came three dukes a-riding, ride, ride, riding; There came three dukes a-riding, With a tinsy, tinsy, tee!
Come away, fair lady, there is no time to spare; Let us dance, let us sing, Let us join the wedding ring.
--West of Scotland (_Folk-lore Record_, iv. 174).
XXII. Here come three dukes a-riding, A-riding, a-riding.
. . . . .
They will give you pots and pans, They will give you brass; They will give you pots and pans For a pretty lass.
--Penzance, Cornwall (Mrs. Mabbott).
XXIII. Here come four dukes a-riding, Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
What is your good will, sirs? Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
Our good will's to marry, &c.
Marry one of us then, &c.
You're too poor and shabby, &c.
We're quite as good as you are, &c.
Suppose we have one of you then, &c.
Which one will you have, &c.
We'll have ---- to marry, &c.
Who will you send to fetch her, &c.
We'll send ---- to fetch her.
--Roxton, St. Neots (Miss E. Lumley).
XXIV. Here come three dukes a-riding, With me rancy, tansy, tissimy tee, Here come three dukes a-riding, With a ransom, tansom, tissimy tee. Here come three dukes a-riding, With a ransom, tansom, tissimy tee.
Pray which of us will you have, sir (repeat as above).
I think I will have this one (repeat).
. . . . .
[Forgotten, but the girls evidently decline to part with one of their number.]
You are all too black and too blousy (repeat). We're far too good for you, sir (repeat).
--Isle of Man (A. W. Moore). Played at a Manx Vicarage nearly sixty years ago (Rev. T. G. Brown).
XXV. Here comes a Jew a riding, With the ransom, tansom, tissimi, O!
And pray what is your will, sir? (as above).
Then pray take one of my daughters, &c.
They are all too black and too browsy, &c.
They are good enough for you, sir, &c.
My house is lined with silver, &c.
But ours is lined with gold, sir, &c.
Then I'll take one of your daughters, &c.
--Forest of Dean, Gloucester (Miss Matthews).
XXVI. The Campsie dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding; The Campsie dukes a riding, come a rincey, dincey, dee.
--Biggar (Wm. Ballantyne).
XXVII. Five dukes comes here a-ridin', A-ridin' fast one day; Five dukes comes here a-riding, With a hansom, dansom day.
What do you want with us, sirs, With us, sirs, &c.
We want some wives to marry us, To marry us, to marry us, &c.
Will you marry us, Miss Nancy, Miss Nancy, Miss Nancy, &c.
We won't marry you to-day, sirs, &c.
Will you marry us to-day, Miss? &c. (to another girl).
We will marry you to-day, sirs, &c.
--London, Regent's Park (A. B. Gomme).
XXVIII. There's three dukes a-riding, a-riding, There's three dukes a-riding, Come a ransin, tansin, my gude wife. Come a ransin, tansin te-dee, Before I take my evening walk, I'll have a handsome lady, The fairest one that I do see.
--Rosehearty, Pitsligo (Rev. W. Gregor).
XXIX. One duck comes a-ridin', sir, a-ridin', sir, A-ridin' to marry you.
And what do you want with me, sir?
I come to marry you two.
There's some of us ready to dance, sir; Ready to dance and sing; There's some of us ready to dance, sir, And ready to marry you.
Then come to me, my darlin', my darlin', darlin' day, With a ransom, tansom, tansom, tansom tay.
--London, Regent's Park (A. B. Gomme).
XXX. There's a young man that wants a sweetheart-- Wants a sweetheart--wants a sweetheart-- There's a young man that wants a sweetheart, To the ransom tansom tidi-de-o.
Let him come out and choose his own, Choose his own, choose his own; Let him come out and choose his own, To the ransom tansom tidi-de-o.
Will any of my fine daughters do, &c.
They are all too black and brawny, They sit in the sun uncloudy, With golden chains around their necks, They are too black and brawny.
Quite good enough for you, sir! &c.
I'll walk in the kitchen, and walk in the hall, I'll take the fairest among you all; The fairest of all that I can see, Is pretty Miss Watts, come out to me. Will you come out?
Oh, no! oh, no!
Naughty Miss Watts she won't come out, She won't come out, she won't come out; Naughty Miss Watts she won't come out, To help us in our dancing. Won't you come out?
Oh, yes! oh, yes!
--Dorsetshire (_Folk-lore Journal_, vii. 223-224).
(_c._) Three children, generally boys, are chosen to represent the three dukes. The rest of the players represent maidens. The three dukes stand in line facing the maidens, who hold hands, and also stand in line. Sufficient space is left between the two lines to admit of each line in turn advancing and retiring. The three dukes commence by singing the first verse, advancing and retiring in line while doing so. The line of maidens then advances singing the second verse. The alternate verses demanding and answering are thus sung. The maidens make curtseys and look coquettishly at the dukes when singing the fourth verse, and draw themselves up stiffly and indignantly when singing the sixth, bending and bowing lowly at the eighth. The dukes look contemptuously and criticisingly at the girls while singing the fifth and seventh verses; at the ninth or last verse they "name" one of the girls, who then crosses over and joins hands with them. The game then continues by all four singing "Here come four dukes a-riding," and goes on until all the maidens are ranged on the dukes' side.
This method of playing obtains in most versions of the game, though there are variations and additions in some places. In the Bocking, Barnes, Dublin, Hurstmonceux, Settle, Symondsbury, Sporle, Earls Heaton, and Clapham versions, where the verses begin with "Here comes one Duke a-riding," one boy stands facing the girls, and sings the first verse advancing and retiring with a dancing step, or with a step to imitate riding. In some instances the "three Dukes" advance in this way. In the Barnes version, when the chosen girl has walked over to the duke, he takes her hands and dances round with her, while singing the tenth verse. In the Symondsbury (Dorset) version the players stand in a group, the duke standing opposite, and when singing the sixth verse, advances to choose the girl. When there is only one player left on the maidens' side the dukes all sing the seventh verse; they then come forward and claim the last girl, and embrace her as soon as they get her over to their side. In the Hurstmonceux version, when the girls are all on the dukes' side, they sing the last verse. Miss Chase does not say whether this is accompanied by dancing round, but it probably would be. In the Dublin version, after the third verse, the duke tries to carry off the youngest girl, and her side try to save her. In the Wrotham version, after the girls' retort, "Quite as good, as you, sir," the dukes select a girl, who refuses to go to them: they then sing the last six lines when the girl goes over. In the second Dorset version (which appeared in the _Yarmouth Register_, Mass., 1874) the players consisted of a dozen boys standing in line in the usual way, and a dozen girls on the opposite side facing them. The boys sing the first two verses alternately; the girl at first refuses and then consents to go. Dancing round probably accompanies this, but there is no mention of it. In Roxton, St. Neots, after the verses are sung, the duke and the selected girl clasp hands, and he pulls her across to the opposite side, as in "Nuts in May." In Settle (Yorks.) the game is called "The Dukes of York and Lancaster." The first duke advances with a dancing step. The game is then played in the usual way until all the players are ranged on the dukes' side; then the two original dukes, one of whom is "red" and the other "white," join hands, and the other players pass under their raised hands. The dukes ask each of them, in a whisper, "red?" or "white?" The player then goes behind the one he or she has chosen, clasping the duke's waist. When all the players have chosen, a tug-of-war ensues between the two sides. In the Earls Heaton version, the duke sings the verses, offering gifts to the girl when she has been selected. In the Oxfordshire version (Miss Broadwood) one player sings the words of the verse, and all join in the refrain as chorus. In the Monton (Lancashire) version the duke sings the last verse, and then takes a girl from the opposite side; and in another version from Barnes, in which the words of the last verse are the same as these, one of the dukes' side crosses over and fetches the girl. The duke bows lowly before the chosen girl in the Liphook version before she joins his side. In the East Kirkby, Lincolnshire, version, when the dukes sing the last verse, they advance towards the opposite side, who, when they see the direction in which they are coming, form two arches, by three of the players holding up their arms, the dukes' side going through one arch and returning through the other, bringing the chosen girl with them. One Clapham version is played in a totally different manner: the maidens form a circle instead of a line, and the duke stands outside this until he is admitted at the line which says, "let him in." At the conclusion of the dialogue he breaks in and carries one player off. This is an unusual form; I have only met with one other instance of it.
(_d._) The action in many of these versions is described as very spirited: coquetry, contempt, and annoyance being all expressed in action as the words of the game demands. The dancing movement of the boys in the first verse to imitate riding, though belonging to the earlier forms, is, with the exception of two or three versions, only retained in those which are commenced by one player, partly, perhaps, because of the difficulty three or more players experience in "riding" or "prancing" while holding each other's hands in line form. I have seen the game played when the "prancing" of the dukes (in a game where there were a dozen or more players on each side at starting, as in the Dorset version) was as important a feature as the maidens' actions in the other verses. I think the oldest form of the game is that played by a fairly equal number of players on each side, boys on one side and girls on the other, rather than that of "one" or "three" players on the dukes' side, and all the others opposite. The game then began with the present words, "Here come three dukes;" these three each chose a girl at the same time, and when these three were wived, another three "dukes" would pair with three more of the girls, and after that another three, and so on. This form would account for the modern idea that the number of dukes increases on every occasion that the verses are sung, after the first wife has been taken over, and until all the girls have been thus chosen. This idea is expressed in some versions by the change of words: "Here's a fourth [or fifth, and so on] duke come a riding" to take a wife, the chosen maiden becoming a duke as soon as she has passed over on to the dukes' side. The process of innovation may be traced by the methods of playing. Thus, in one version played at Barnes (similar in other respects to No. 10), beginning "three dukes a riding," _three_ girls were chosen by the three first dukes, one by each, at the same time, and all three girls walked across with the three dukes to the boys' line, and stood next their respective partners. In two imperfect versions I have obtained in Regent's Park, London, the same principle occurs. One girl began--"One duck comes a ridin'," and two girls from the opposite side walked across; the other "Five dukes come here a ridin'" was played by five players on each side, and this was continued throughout. When the verses were said, each of the five dukes took a player from the opposite side and danced round with her. Again, in those versions (Symondsbury and Barnes), where when one player is left on the maidens' side without a partner, and all the dukes are mated, the additional verse is sung, and this player is taken over too. Beyond these versions are the large number beginning with three or more children singing the formula of "three dukes," and choosing one girl at a time, until all are taken over on to the dukes' side. Finally, there are the versions, more in accord with modern ideas, which commence with one duke coming for a wife, and continue by the girls taken over counting as dukes, the formula changing into two dukes, and so on.
If this correctly represents the line of decadence in this game, those versions in which additional verses appear are, I think, instances of the tacking on of verses from the "invitation to the dance" or "May" games; particularly in the cases in which the words "Now I've got my bonny lass" appear. The Earls Heaton version is curious, in that it has several verses which remind us of the old and practically obsolete "Keys of Canterbury" (Halliwell, 96). It may well be that a remembered fragment of that old ballad, which was probably once danced as a dramatic round, has been tacked on to this game. The expression "walk with me," or "walk abroad with me," is significant of an engaged or betrothed couple. "I'm walking or walking out with so and so" is still an expression used by young men and young women to indicate an engagement. "She did ought to be married now; she've walked wi' him mor'n'er a year now." Some of the versions show still more marked signs of decadence. The altered wording, "Here comes a Jew a riding," "Here comes the Duke of Rideo," "A duck comes a ridin'," and the Scotch "Campsie Dukes a riding;" a Berkshire version, collected by Miss Thoyts (_Antiquary_, xxvii. p. 195), similar to the Shropshire game, but with a portion of the verse of "Milking Pails" added to it, and the refrain of "Ransome, tansome, tismatee;" together with the disappearance of some of the verses, are all evidently the results of the words being learnt orally, and imperfectly understood, or not understood at all.
In this game, said in Lancashire to be the "oldest play of all," judging both by the words and method of playing, we have, I believe, a distinct survival or remembrance of the tribal marriage--marriage at a period when it was the custom for men of a clan to seek wives from the girls of another clan, both clans belonging to one tribe. The game is a purely marriage game, and marriage in a matter-of-fact way. Young men of a clan or village arrive at the abode of another clan for the purpose of seeking wives, probably at a feast or fair time. The maidens are apparently ready and expecting their arrival. They are as willing to become wives as the dukes are to become husbands. It is not marriage by force or capture, though the triumphant carrying off of a wife appears in some versions. It is exogamous marriage custom, after the tribe had settled down and arranged their system of marriage in lieu of a former more rude system of capture. The suggested depreciation of the girls, and their saucy rejoinders, may be looked upon as so much good-humoured chaff and banter exchanged between the two parties to enhance each other's value, and to display their wit. While it does not follow that the respective parties were complete strangers to one another, these lines may indicate that each individual wished "to have as good a look round as possible" before accepting the offer made. It will be seen that there is no mention of "love" in the game, nor is there any individual courtship between boy and girl. The marriage formula does not appear, nor is there any sign that a "ceremony" or "sanction" to conclude the marriage was necessary, nor does kissing occur in the game.
There is evidence of the tribal marriage system in the survivals of exogamy and marriage by capture occasionally to be noted in traditional local custom. Thus the custom recorded by Chambers (_Book of Days_, i. 722) of the East Anglians (Suffolk), where whole parishes have intermarried to such an extent that almost everybody is related to or connected with everybody else, is distinctly a case in point, the intermarrying of "parishes" for a long series of years necessarily resulting in close inter-relationship. One curious effect of this is that no one is counted as a "relation" beyond first cousins; for if "relationship" went further than that it might "almost as well include the whole parish." The old proverb (also from East Anglia):
"To change the name, and not the letter, Is a change for the worse, and not for the better;"
that is, it is unlucky for a woman to marry a man whose surname begins with the same letter as her own, also indicates a survival of the necessity of marrying into another clan or tribal family.
Another interesting point in the game is the refrain, "With a rancy, tancy, tay," which with variations accompanies all versions, and separates this game from some otherwise akin to it. There is little doubt that this refrain represents an old tribal war cry, from which "slogans" or family "cries" were derived. These cries were not only used in times of warfare, tribes were assembled by them, each leader of a clan or party having a distinguishing cry and blast of a horn peculiar to himself, and the sounding of this particular blast or cry would be recognised by men of the same party, who would go to each other's assistance if need were. The refrain is sung by all the players in Oxfordshire and Lancashire, and in some versions the players in this game put their hands to their mouths as if imitating a blast from a horn, and a Lancashire version (about 1820-1830), quoted by Miss Burne, has for the refrain, "With a rancy, tancy, terry boys horn, with a rancy, tancy, tee." "The burden," says Miss Burne, "evidently represented a flourish of trumpets." The Barnes version, "With a rancy, tancy, terrimus hey!" and many others confirm this.