Notes and Queries, Number 47, September 21, 1850. Various
p>Notes and Queries, Number 47, September 21, 1850
NOTES
OLD SONGS
I heard, "in other days," a father singing a comic old song to one of his children, who was sitting on his knee. This was in Yorkshire: and yet it could hardly be a Yorkshire song, as the scene was laid in another county. It commenced with—
"Randle O'Shay has sold his mare
For nineteen groats at Warrin'ton fair,"
and goes on to show how the simpleton was cheated out of his money.
I find in Hasted's History of Kent (vol. i. p. 468., 2nd edit.) mention made of the family of Shaw, who held the manor of Eltham, &c., and who "derive themselves from the county palatine of Chester." It is further stated that Randal de Shaw, his son, was settled at Haslington Hall in that county.
All, indeed, that this proves is, the probability of the hero of the song being also a native of Cheshire, or one of the adjacent counties; and that the legend is a truth, even as to names as well as general facts. The song is worthy of recovery and preservation, as a remnant of English character and manners; and I have only referred to Hasted to point out the probable district in which it will be found.
There are many other characteristics of the manners of the humbler classes to be found in songs that had great local popularity within the period of living memory; for instance, the Wednesbury Cocking amongst the colliers of Staffordshire and Rotherham Status amongst the cutlers of Sheffield. Their language, it is true, is not always very delicate—perhaps was not even at the time these songs were composed,—as they picture rather the exuberant freaks of a half-civilised people than the better phases of their character. Yet even these form "part and parcel" of the history of "the true-born Englishman."
One song more may be noticed here:—the rigmarole, snatches of which probably most of us have heard, which contains an immense number of mere truisms having no connexion with each others, and no bond of union but the metrical form in which their juxtaposition is effected, and the rhyme, which is kept up very well throughout, though sometimes by the introduction of a nonsense line. Who does not remember—
"A yard of pudding's not an ell,"
or
"Not forgetting dytherum di,
A tailor's goose can never fly,"
and other like parts?
It is just such a piece of burlesque as Swift might have written: but many circumstances lead me to think it must be much older. Has it ever been printed?
There is another old (indeed an evidently very ancient) song, which I do not remember to have seen in print, or even referred to in print. None of the books into which I have looked, from deeming them likely to contain it, make the least reference to this song. I have heard it in one of the midland counties, and in one of the western, both many years ago; but I have not heard it in London or any of the metropolitan districts. The song begins thus:—
"London Bridge is broken down,
Dance over my Lady Lea:
London Bridge is broken down,
With a gay ladée."
This must surely refer to some event preserved in history,—may indeed be well known to well-read antiquaries, though so totally unknown to men whose general pursuits (like my own) have lain in other directions. The present, however, is an age for "popularising" knowledge; and your work has assumed that task as one of its functions.
The difficulties attending such inquiries as arise out of matters so trivial as an old ballad, are curiously illustrated by the answers already printed respecting the "wooing frog." In the first place, it was attributed to times within living memory; then shown to exceed that period, and supposed to be very old,—even as old as the Commonwealth, or, perhaps, as the Reformation. This is objected to, from "the style and wording of the song being evidently of a much later period than the age of Henry VIII.;" and Buckingham's "mad" scheme of taking Charles into Spain to woo the infanta is substituted. This is enforced by the "burden of the song;" whilst another correspondent considers this "chorus" to be an old one, analogous to "Down derry down:"—that is, M. denies the force of MR. MAHONY's explanation altogether!
(Why MR. MAHONY calls a person in his "sixth decade" a "sexagenarian" he best knows. Such is certainly not the ordinary meaning of the term he uses. His pun is good, however.)
Then comes the HERMIT OF HOLYPORT, with a very decisive proof that neither in the time of James I., nor of the Commonwealth, could it have originated. His transcript from Mr. Collier's Extracts carries it undeniably back to the middle of the reign of Elizabeth. Of course, it is interesting to find intermediate versions or variations of the ballad, and even the adaptation of its framework to other ballads of recent times, such as "Heigho! says Kemble,"—one of the Drury Lane "O.P. Row" ballads (Rejected Addresses, last ed., or Cunningham's London). Why the conjecture respecting Henry VIII. is so contemptuously thrown aside as a "fancy," I do not see. A fancy is a dogma taken up without proof, and in the teeth of obvious probability,—tenaciously adhered to, and all investigation eschewed. This at least is the ordinary signification of the term, in relation to the search after truth. How far my own conjecture, or the mode of putting it, fulfills these conditions, it is not necessary for me to discuss: but I hope the usefulness and interest of the "NOTES AND QUERIES" will not be marred by any discourtesy of one correspondent towards another.
At the same time, the HERMIT OF HOLYPORT has done the most essential service to this inquiry by his extract from Mr. Collier, as the question is thereby inclosed within exceedingly narrow limits. But if the ballad do not refer to Henry VIII., to whom can it be referred with greater probability? It is too much to assume that all the poetry, wit, and talent of the Tudor times were confined to the partizans of the Tudor cause, religious or political. We know, indeed, the contrary. But for his communication, too, the singular coincidence of two such characteristic words of the song in the "Poley Frog" (in the same number of the "NOTES AND QUERIES") might have given rise to another conjecture: but the date excludes its further consideration.
I may add, that since this has been mooted, an Irish gentleman has told me that the song was familiar enough in Dublin; and he repeated some stanzas of it, which were considerably different from the version of W.A.G., and the chorus the same as in the common English version. I hope presently to receive a complete copy of it: which, by the bye, like everything grotesquely humorous in Ireland, was attributed to the author of Gulliver's Travels.
"JUNIUS IDENTIFIED."
It is fortunate for my reputation that I am still living to vindicate my title to the authorship of my own book, which seems otherwise in danger of being taken from me.
I can assure your correspondent R.J. (Vol. ii., p. 103.) that I was not only "literally the writer," (as he kindly suggests, with a view of saving my credit for having put my name to the book), but in its fullest sense the author of "Junius Identified"; and that I never received the slightest assistance from Mr. Dubois, or any other person, either in collecting or arranging the evidence, or in the composition and correction of the work. After I had completed my undertaking, I wrote to Mr. Dubois to ask if he would allow me to see the handwriting of Sir Philip Francis, that I might compare it with the published fac-similes of the handwriting of Junius; but he refused my request. His letter alone disproved the notion entertained by R.J. and others, that Mr. Dubois was in any degree connected with me, or with the authorship of the work in question.
With regard to the testimony of Lord Campbell, I wrote to his lordship in February, 1848, requesting his acceptance of a copy of Junius Identified, which I thought he might not have seen; and having called his attention to my name at the end of the preface, I begged he would, when opportunity offered, correct his error in having attributed the work to Mr. Dubois. I was satisfied with his lordship's reply, which was to the effect that he was ashamed of his mistake, and would take care to correct it. No new edition of that series of the Lives of the Chancellors,