Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England Part 36

The first that came in was a soldier, With his firelock over his shoulder, Sure no one could be bolder, And a long broad-sword he drew: He swore he would fight for England's ground, Before the nation should be run down; He boldly drank their healths all round, While Joan's ale was new.

The next that came in was a hatter, Sure no one could be blacker, And he began to chatter, Among the jovial crew: He threw his hat upon the ground, And swore every man should spend his pound, And boldly drank their hearths all round, While Joan's ale was new.

The next that came in was a dyer, And he sat himself down by the fire, For it was his heart's desire To drink with the jovial crew: He told the landlord to his face, The chimney-corner should be his place, And there he'd sit and dye his face, While Joan's ale was new.

The next that came in was a tinker, And he was no small beer drinker, And he was no strong ale shrinker, Among the jovial crew: For his bra.s.s nails were made of metal, And he swore he'd go and mend a kettle, Good heart, how his hammer and nails did rattle, When Joan's ale was new!

The next that came in was a tailor, With his bodkin, shears, and thimble, He swore he would be nimble Among the jovial crew: They sat and they called for ale so stout, Till the poor tailor was almost broke, And was forced to go and p.a.w.n his coat, While Joan's ale was new.

The next that came in was a ragman, With his rag-bag over his shoulder, Sure no one could be bolder Among the jovial crew.

They sat and called for pots and gla.s.ses, Till they were all drunk as a.s.ses, And burnt the old ragman's bag to ashes, While Joan's ale was new.

Ballad: GEORGE RIDLER'S OVEN.

[This ancient Gloucestershire song has been sung at the annual dinners of the Gloucestershire Society, from the earliest period of the existence of that inst.i.tution; and in 1776 there was an Harmonic Society at Cirencester, which always opened its meetings with George Ridler's Oven in full chorus.

The substance of the following key to this very curious song is furnished by Mr. H. Gingell, who extracts it from the Annual Report of the Gloucestershire Society for 1835. The annual meeting of this Society is held at Bristol in the month of August, when the members dine, and a branch meeting, which was formerly held at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand, is now annually held at the Thatched House Tavern, St. James's. George Ridler's Oven is sung at both meetings, and the late Duke of Beaufort used to lead off the glee in capital style. The words have a secret meaning, well known to the members of the Gloucestershire Society, which was founded in 1657, three years before the Restoration of Charles II.

The Society consisted of Royalists, who combined together for the purpose of restoring the Stuarts. The Cavalier party was supported by all the old Roman Catholic families of the kingdom; and some of the Dissenters, who were disgusted with Cromwell, occasionally lent them a kind of pa.s.sive aid.

First Verse.--By 'George Ridler' is meant King Charles I. The 'oven' was the Cavalier party. The 'stwons' that 'built the oven,'

and that 'came out of the Bleakney quaar,' were the immediate followers of the Marquis of Worcester, who held out long and steadfastly for the Royal cause at Raglan Castle, which was not surrendered till 1646, and was in fact the last stronghold retained for the King. 'His head did grow above his hair,' is an allusion to the crown, the head of the State, which the King wore 'above his hair.'

Second Verse.--This means that the King, 'before he died,' boasted that notwithstanding his present adversity, the ancient const.i.tution of the kingdom was so good, and its vitality so great, that it would surpa.s.s and outlive every other form of government.

Third Verse.--'d.i.c.k the treble, Jack the mean, and George the ba.s.s,' mean King, Lords, and Commons. The injunction to 'let every man sing in his own place,' is a warning to each of the three estates of the realm to preserve its proper position, and not to encroach on each other's prerogative.

Fourth Verse.--'Mine hostess's maid' is an allusion to the Queen, who was a Roman Catholic, and her maid, the Church. The singer we must suppose was one of the leaders of the party, and his 'dog' a companion, or faithful official of the Society, and the song was sung on occasions when the members met together socially; and thus, as the Roman Catholics were Royalists, the allusion to the mutual attachment between the 'maid' and 'my dog and I,' is plain and consistent.

Fifth Verse.--The 'dog' had a 'trick of visiting maids when they were sick.' The meaning is, that when any of the members were in distress or desponding, or likely to give up the Royal cause in despair, the officials, or active members visited, counselled, and a.s.sisted them.

Sixth Verse.--The 'dog' was 'good to catch a hen,' a 'duck,' or a 'goose.'--That is, to enlist as members of the Society any who were well affected to the Royal cause.

Seventh Verse.--'The good ale tap' is an allusion, under cover of the similarity in sound between the words ale and aisle, to the Church, of which it was dangerous at the time to be an avowed follower; and so the members were cautioned that indiscretion might lead to their discovery and 'overthrow.'

Eighth Verse.--The allusion here is to those unfaithful supporters of the Royal cause, who 'welcomed' the members of the Society when it appeared to be prospering, but 'parted' from them in adversity.

Ninth Verse.--An expression of the singer's wish that if he should die he may be buried with his faithful companion, as representing the principles of the Society, under the good aisles of the church.

The following text has been collated with a version published in Notes and Queries, from the 'fragments of a MS. found in the speech-house of Dean.' The tune is the same as that of the Wa.s.sailers' Song, and is printed in Popular Music. Other ditties appear to have been founded on this ancient piece. The fourth, seventh, and ninth verses are in the old ditty called My Dog and I: and the eighth verse appears in another old song. The air and words bear some resemblance to Todlen Hame.]

The stwons that built George Ridler's oven, And thauy keam vrom the Bleakney quaar, And George he wur a jolly old mon, And his yead it grow'd above his yare.

One thing of George Ridler I must commend, And that wur vor a notable thing; He mead his brags avoore he died, Wi' any dree brooders his zons zshould zing.

There's d.i.c.k the treble, and John the meean, (Let every mon zing in his auwn pleace,) And George he wur the elder brother, And therevoor he would zing the bea.s.s.

Mine hostess's moid, (and her neaum 'twour Nell,) A pretty wench, and I lov'd her well; I lov'd her well, good reauzon why, Because zshe loved my dog and I.

My dog is good to catch a hen; A dug or goose is vood for men; And where good company I spy, O thether gwoes my dog and I.

My mwother told I, when I wur young, If I did vollow the strong-beer pwoot, That drenk would prov my awverdrow, And meauk me wear a threadbare cwoat.

My dog has gotten zitch a trick, To visit moids when thauy be zick; When thauy be zick and like to die, O thether gwoes my dog and I.

When I have dree zixpences under my thumb, O then I be welcome wherever I come; But when I have none, O, then I pa.s.s by, - 'Tis poverty pearts good companie.

If I should die, as it may hap, My greauve shall be under the good yeal tap; In voulded yarms there wool us lie, Cheek by jowl, my dog and I.

Ballad: THE CARRION CROW.

[This still popular song is quoted by Grose in his Olio, where it is made the subject of a burlesque commentary, the covert political allusions having evidently escaped the penetration of the antiquary. The reader familiar with the annals of the Commonwealth and the Restoration, will readily detect the leading points of the allegory. The 'Carrion Crow' in the oak is Charles II., who is represented as that bird of voracious appet.i.te, because he deprived the puritan clergy of their livings; perhaps, also, because he ordered the bodies of the regicides to be exhumed--as Ainsworth says in one of his ballads:-

The carrion crow is a s.e.xton bold, He raketh the dead from out of the mould.

The religion of the 'old sow,' whoever she may be, is clearly pointed out by her little pigs praying for her soul. The 'tailor'

is not easily identified. It is possibly intended for some puritan divine of the name of Taylor, who wrote and preached against both prelacy and papacy, but with an especial hatred of the latter. In the last verse he consoles himself by the reflection that, notwithstanding the deprivations, his party will have enough remaining from the voluntary contributions of their adherents. The 'cloak' which the tailor is engaged in cutting out, is the Genevan gown, or cloak; the 'spoon' in which he desires his wife to bring treacle, is apparently an allusion to the 'spatula' upon which the wafer is placed in the administration of the Eucharist; and the introduction of 'chitterlings and black-puddings' into the last verse seems to refer to a pa.s.sage in Rabelais, where the same dainties are brought in to personify those who, in the matter of fasting, are opposed to Romish practices. The song is found in collections of the time of Charles II.]

The carrion crow he sat upon an oak, And he spied an old tailor a cutting out a cloak.

Heigho! the carrion crow.

The carrion crow he began for to rave, And he called the tailor a lousy knave!

Heigho! the carrion crow.

'Wife, go fetch me my arrow and my bow, I'll have a shot at that carrion crow.'

Heigho! the carrion crow.

The tailor he shot, and he missed his mark, But he shot the old sow through the heart.

Heigho! the carrion crow.

'Wife, go fetch me some treacle in a spoon, For the old sow's in a terrible swoon!'

Heigho! the carrion crow.

The old sow died, and the bells they did toll, And the little pigs prayed for the old sow's soul!

Heigho! the carrion crow.

'Never mind,' said the tailor, 'I don't care a flea, There'll be still black-puddings, souse, and chitterlings for me.'

Heigho! the carrion crow.