(d) This game is universally acknowledged to be a very ancient one, but its origin is a subject of some diversity of opinion. The special feature of the rhymes is that considerable difficulty occurs in the building of the bridge by ordinary means, but without exactly suggesting that extraordinary means are to be adopted, a prisoner is suddenly taken. The question is, What does this indicate?
Looking to the fact of the widespread superstition of the foundation sacrifice, it would seem that we may have here a tradition of this rite. So recently as 1872, there was a scare in Calcutta when the Hooghly Bridge was being constructed. The natives then got hold of the idea that Mother Ganges, indignant at being bridged, had at last consented to submit to the insult on condition that each pier of the structure was founded on a layer of children’s heads (Gomme’s Early Village Life, p. 29). Formerly, in Siam, when a new city gate was being erected, it was customary for a number of officers to lie in wait and seize the first four or eight persons who happened to pass by, and who were then buried alive under the gate-posts to serve as guardian angels (Tylor’s Primitive Culture, i. 97). Other instances of the same custom and belief are given in the two works from which these examples are taken; and there is a tradition about London Bridge itself, that the stones were bespattered with the blood of little children. Fitzstephen, in his well-known account of London of the twelfth century, mentions that when the Tower was built the mortar was tempered with the blood of beasts. Prisoners’ heads were put on the bridge after execution down to modern times, and also on city gates.
These traditions about London, when compared with the actual facts of contemporary savagery, seem to be sufficient to account for such a game as that we are now examining having originated in the foundation sacrifice. Mr. Newell, in his examination of the game, gives countenance to this theory, but he strangely connects it with other games which have a tug-of-war as the finish. Now in all the English examples it is remarkable that the tug-of-war does not appear to be a part of the game; and if this evidence be conclusive, it would appear that this incident got incorporated in America. It is this incident which Mr. Newell dwells upon in his ingenious explanation of the mythological interpretation of the game. But apart from this, the fact that the building of bridges was accompanied by the foundation sacrifice is a more likely origin for such a widespread game which is so intimately connected with a bridge.
This view is confirmed by what may be called the literary history of the game. The verses, as belonging to a game, have only recently been recorded, and how far they go back into tradition it is impossible to say. Dr. Rimbault is probably right when he states “that they have been formed by many fresh additions in a long series of years, and [the game] is perhaps almost interminable when received in all its different versions” (Notes and Queries, ii. 338). In Chronicles of London Bridge, pp. 152, 153, the author says he obtained the following note from a Bristol correspondent:—“About forty years ago, one moonlight night in the streets of Bristol, my attention was attracted by a dance and chorus of boys and girls, to which the words of this ballad gave measure. The breaking down of the Bridge was announced as the dancers moved round in a circle hand in hand, and the question, ‘How shall we build it up again?’ was chanted by the leader while the rest stood still.” This correspondent also sent the tune the children sang, which is printed in the Chronicles of London Bridge. This was evidently the same game, but it would appear that the verses have also been used as a song, and it would be interesting to find out which is the more ancient of the two—the song or the game; and to do this it is necessary that we should know something of the history of the song. A correspondent of Notes and Queries (ii. 338) speaks of it as a “lullaby song” well known in the southern part of Kent and in Lincolnshire. In the Gentleman’s Magazine (1823, Part II. p. 232) appeared the following interesting note:—
The projected demolition of London Bridge recalls to my mind the introductory lines of an old ballad which more than seventy years ago I heard plaintively warbled by a lady who was born in the reign of Charles II., and who lived till nearly the end of that of George II. I now transcribe the lines, not as possessing any great intrinsic merit, but in the hope of learning from some intelligent correspondent the name of the author and the story which gave rise to the ballad, for it probably originated in some accident that happened to the old bridge. The “Lady Lea” evidently refers to the river of that name, the favourite haunt of Isaac Walton, which, after fertilising the counties of Hertford, Essex, and Middlesex, glides into the Thames.
The two lines in italic are all regularly repeated after each line.—M. Green.
Another correspondent to this magazine, in the same volume, p. 507, observes that the ballad concerning London Bridge “formed, in my remembrance, part of a Christmas Carol, and commenced thus—
The requisition goes on to the dame to prepare for the feast, and her answer is—
The inference always was, that until the bridge was rebuilt some stop would be put to the Dame’s Christmas operations; but why the falling of London Bridge should form part of a Christmas Carol at Newcastle-upon-Tyne I am at a loss to know.” Some fragments were also printed in the Mirror for November 1823; and a version is also given by Ritson, Gammer Gurton’s Garland. The Heimskringla (Laing, ii. 260, 261) gives an animated description of the Battle of London Bridge, when Ethelred, after the death of Sweyn, was assisted by Olaf in retaking and entering London, and it is curious, that the first line of the game-rhyme appears—
If this is anything more than an accidental parallel, we come back to an historical episode wherein the breaking down and rebuilding of London Bridge occur, and it looks as if the two streams down which this tradition has travelled, namely, first, through the game, and second, through the song, both refer to the same event.
Dr. Rimbault has, in his Nursery Rhymes, p. 34, reconstructed a copy of the original rhyme from the versions given by Halliwell and the Mirror, and gives the tune to which it was sung, which is reprinted here. The tune from Kent is the one generally used in London versions. The tune of a country dance called “London Bridge” is given in Playford’s Dancing Master, 1728 edition.[Addendum]
[4] Another informant gives the refrain, “Grand says the little Dee.”
[5] I have identified this with a version played at Westminster and another taught to my children by a Hanwell girl.—A. B. G.
A number of children take hold of each other’s hands and form a half-circle. The two children at one end of the line lift up their arms, so as to form an arch, and call “Bid, bid, bid,” the usual cry for calling ducks. Then the children at the other end pass in order through the arch. This process is repeated, and they go circling round the field.—Addy’s Sheffield Glossary.
See “Duck Dance.”
See “Long Terrace.”
A game at marbles where each takes aim at the other in turn, a marble being paid in forfeit to whichever of the players may make a hit.—Lowsley’s Berkshire Glossary.
Every player chooses a partner. The couples stand immediately in front of each other, forming a long line, one remaining outside of the line on the right-hand side, who is called the “Clapper.” The object of the game is for the last couple to reach the top of the line, each running on different sides, and keeping to the side on which they are standing. The object of the Clapper is to hit the one running on the right side of the line, which, if he succeeds in doing, makes him the Clapper, and the Clapper takes his place. [The next last couple would then presumably try and reach the top.]—East Kirkby, Lincs. (Miss K. Maughan).
A similar game to this is played at Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews). It is there called “Long Tag.” The players stand in line behind one another, and an odd one takes her place somewhere near the front; at a given signal, such as clapping of hands, the two at the back separate and try to meet again in front before the one on the watch can catch them; they may run where they please, and when one is caught that one becomes the one “out.”
See “French Jackie.”
Young men go out to a green meadow, and there on all-fours plant themselves in a row about two yards distant from each other. Then he who is stationed farthest back in the “bullock rank” starts up and leaps over the other bullocks before him, by laying his hands on each of their backs; and when he gets over the last one leans down himself as before, whilst all the others, in rotation, follow his example; then he starts and leaps again.
I have sometimes thought that we (the Scotch) have borrowed this recreation from our neighbours of the “Green Isle,” as at their wakes they have a play much of the same kind, which they call “Riding Father Doud.” One of the wakers takes a stool in his hand, another mounts that one’s back, then Father Doud begins rearing and plunging, and if he unhorses his rider with a dash he does well. There is another play (at these wakes) called “Kicking the Brogue,” which is even ruder than “Riding Father Doud,” and a third one called “Scuddieloof.”—Mactaggart’s Gallovidian Encyclopædia.
Patterson (Antrim and Down Glossary) mentions a game called “Leap the Bullock,” which he says is the same as “Leap-frog.”
Dickinson’s Cumberland Glossary Supplement, under “Lowp,” says it means a leap or jump either running or standing. The various kinds include “Catskip”—one hitch, or hop, and one jump; “Hitch steppin”—hop, step, and lowp; a hitch, a step, and a leap; “Otho”—two hitches, two steps, and a leap; “Lang spang”—two hitches, two steps, a hitch, a step, and a leap.
See “Accroshay,” “Knights,” “Leap-frog.”
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—Oxford and Wakefield (Miss Fowler).
—Halliwell (Popular Rhymes, p. 226).
—Chambers (Popular Rhymes, pp. 137-139).
—Eckington, Derbyshire (S. O. Addy).
—Lady C. Gurdon’s Suffolk County Folk-lore, p. 64.
[Repeat this for “left hand,” “right foot,” “left foot,” “heads,” and “put yourselves in.”]
—Addy’s Sheffield Glossary.
—Ordsall, Nottinghamshire (Miss Matthews).
—Epworth, Doncaster (C. C. Bell).
—Nottingham (Miss Winfield).
—Belfast (W. H. Patterson).
—Hexham (Miss J. Barker).
—Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews).
—Cornwall (Folk-lore Journal, v. p. 49).
—Dorsetshire (Miss M. Kimber).
(b) A ring is formed and the children dance round, singing the first verse. They then stand till, sing the next verse, and, while singing, suit the action to the word, each child turning herself rapidly round when singing the last line. The first verse is then repeated, and the fourth sung in the same way as the second, and so on.
Another way of playing is that the children do not dance round and round. They form a ring by joining hands, and they then all move in one direction, about half way round, while singing the first line, “lubin;” then back again in the opposite direction, while singing the second line, “light,” still keeping the ring form, and so on for the third and fourth lines. In each case the emphasis is laid upon the “Here” of each line, the movement being supposed to answer to the “Here.”
The Dorsetshire version (Miss M. Kimber) is played by the children taking hands in pairs, forming a ring, and dancing round. At Eckington (S. O. Addy) the children first pretend to wash their hands, then their face, while singing the words; then comb their hair and brush their clothes; then they join hands and dance round in a ring singing the words which follow, again suiting their actions to the words sung.
In the Scottish version a ring is formed as above. One sings, and the rest join, to the tune of “Lillibullero,” the first line. As soon as this is concluded each claps his hand and wheels grotesquely, singing the second line. They then sing the third line, suiting the action to the word, still beating the time; then the second again, wheeling round and clapping hands. When they say “A’ feet in, and nae feet out,” they all sit down with their feet stretched into the centre of the ring.
(c) The other variants which follow the Halliwell version are limited to the first verse only, as the remainder of the lines are practically the same as those given in Miss Fowler’s version which is written at length, and three or four of these apparently retain only the verse given. A London version, collected by myself, is nearly identical with that of Miss Fowler, except that the third line is “Shake your —— a little, a little,” instead of as printed. This is sung to the tune given.
The incidents in this game are the same throughout. The only difference in all the versions I have collected being in the number of the different positions to be performed, most of them being for right hands, left hands, right feet, left feet, and heads; others, probably older forms, having “ears,” “yourselves,” &c. One version, from Eckington, Derbyshire, curiously begins with “washing hands and face,” “combing hair,” &c., and then continuing with the “Looby” game, an apparent “mix-up” of “Mulberry Bush” and “Looby.” Three more versions, Sporle, Cornwall, and Dorsetshire, also have different beginnings, one (Dorsetshire) having the apparently unmeaning “I love Antimacassar.”
(d) The origin and meaning of this game appears somewhat doubtful. It is a choral dance, and it may owe its origin to a custom of wild antic dancing in celebration of the rites of some deity in which animal postures were assumed. The Hexham version, “Here we come louping [leaping]” may probably be the oldest and original form, especially if the conjecture that this game is derived from animal rites is accepted. The term “looby,” “lubin,” or “luby” does not throw much light on the game. Addy (Sheffield Glossary) says, “Looby is an old form of the modern ‘lubber,’ a ‘clumsy fellow,’ ‘a dolt.’” That a stupid or ridiculous meaning is attached to the word “looby” is also shown by one of the old penances for redeeming a forfeit, where a player has to lie stretched out on his back and declare,
The Scottish forms of the game bear on the theory of the game being grotesque. The fact of the players having both their arms extended at once, one behind and one in front of them, and the more frequent spinning round, suggest this. Then, too, there is the sudden “sit down” posture, when “all feet in” is required.
In the version given by Halliwell there is more difficulty in the game, and possibly more fun. This version shows the game to be cumulative, each player having to go through an additional antic for each verse sung. This idea only needs to be carried a little further to cause the players to be ridiculous in their appearance. This version would be more difficult to perform, and they would be exhausted by the process, and the constant motion of every member of the body. Attention, too, might be drawn to the word “Hinkumbooby” occurring in Chambers’s version. Newell (Games, p. 131) mentions that some sixty years ago the game was danced deliberately and decorously, as old fashion was, with slow rhythmical movement.[Addendum]
A boy flings an apple to some distance. All present race for it. The winner bites as fast as he can, his compeers lugging at his ears in the meantime, who bears it as well as he can, and then he throws down the apple, when the sport is resumed (Halliwell’s Dictionary). Brogden’s Lincolnshire Provincial Words says “Luggery-bite” is a game boys play with fruit. One bites the fruit, and another pulls his hair until he throws the fruit away. The game is also played in Lancashire (Reliquary).
See “Bob-Cherry.”
A boys’ game. In this game the boys lead each other about by the “lugs,” i.e., ears; hence the name (Patterson’s Antrim and Down Glossary). Jamieson says that the leader had to repeat a rhyme, and if he made a mistake, he in turn became Luggie. The rhyme is not recorded.
The West Riding name for “Knor and Spell.” Playing begins at Easter.—Henderson’s Folk-lore, p. 84.
See “Nur and Spell.”
A game among boys, in which the players throw at a stone set up on edge.—Barnes (Dorset Glossary).
All the players but three sit on chairs, or stand in two long rows facing each other. One player sits at one end of the two rows as president; another player is then introduced into the room by the third player, who leads him up between the two rows. He is then told to kneel before the one sitting at the end of the row of players. When he kneels any ridiculous words or formula can be said by the presiding boy, and then he and those players who are nearest to the kneeling boy rub his back with their hands for two or three minutes. While they are doing this the boy who led the victim up to the president fastens a string, to which is attached a small whistle, to the victim’s coat or jacket. It must be fastened in such a way that the whistle hangs loosely, and will not knock against his back. The whistle is then blown by the player who attached it, and the kneeling boy is told to rise and search for the Magic Whistle. The players who are seated in the chairs must all hold their hands in such a way that the victim suspects it is in their possession, and proceeds to search. The whistle must be blown as often as possible, and in all directions, by those players only who can do so without the victim being able to either see or feel that he is carrying the whistle with him.—London (A. B. Gomme).
This game is also called “Knight of the Whistle.” The boy who is to be made a Knight of the Order of the Whistle, when led up between the two rows of players, has a cloak put round his shoulders and a cap with a feather in it on his head. The whistle is then fastened on to the cloak. This is described by the Rev. J. G. Wood (Modern Playmate, p. 189). Newell (Games, p. 122) gives this with a jesting formula of initiation into knighthood. He says it was not a game of children, but belonged to an older age.
See “Call-the-Guse.”
A pleasant drawing-room evening amusement.—Moor’s Suffolk Words.
Probably the same as “Musical Chairs.”
A forfeit game. The players sat in a circle. One acquainted with the trick took a poker in his right hand, made some eccentric movements with it, passed it to his left, and gave it to his next neighbour on that side, saying, “Malaga, Malaga raisins, very good raisins I vow,” and told him to do the same. Should he fail to pass it from right to left, when he in his turn gave it to his neighbour, without being told where the mistake lay, he was made to pay a forfeit.—Cornwall (Folk-lore Journal, v. 50).
“Malaga raisins are very good raisins, but I like Valencias better,” is the saying used in the London version of this game, and instead of using a poker a paper-knife is used, and it is played at the table. Other formulæ for games of this kind are, “As round as the moon, has two eyes, a nose, and a mouth.” These words are said while drawing on a table with the forefinger of the left hand an imaginary face, making eyes, nose, and mouth when saying the words. The fun is caused through those players who are unacquainted with the game drawing the imaginary face with the right hand instead of the left. Another formula is to touch each finger of the right hand with the forefinger of the left hand, saying to each finger in succession, “Big Tom, Little Tom, Tommy, Tom, Tom.” The secret in this case is to say, “Look here!” before commencing the formula. It is the business of those players who know the game to say the words in such a way that the uninitiated imagine the saying of the words correctly with particular accents on particular words to be where the difficulty lies. If this is well done, it diverts suspicion from the real object of these games.—A. B. Gomme.
Brand considers that marbles had their origin in bowls, and received their name from the substance of which the bowls were formerly made. Strutt (Sports, p. 384) says, “Marbles have been used as a substitute for bowls. I believe originally nuts, round stones, or any other small things that could easily be bowled along were used as marbles.” Rogers notices “Marbles” in his Pleasures of Memory, l. 137:—
Different kinds of marbles are alleys, barios, poppo, stonies. Marrididdles are marbles made by oneself by rolling and baking common clay. By boys these are treated as spurious and are always rejected. In barter, a bary = four stonies; a common white alley = three stonies. Those with pink veins being considered best. Alleys are the most valuable and are always reserved to be used as “taws” (the marble actually used by the player). They are said to have been formerly made of different coloured alabaster. See also Murray’s New English Dict.
For the different games played with marbles, see “Boss Out,” “Bridgeboard,” “Bun-hole,” “Cob,” “Hogo,” “Holy Bang,” “Hundreds,” “Lag,” “Long-Tawl,” “Nine Holes,” “Ring Taw.”