Somersetshire version.
[In Chappell's Popular Misic is a much longer version of The
Leathern Bottel. The following copy is the one sung at the present
time by the country-people in the county of Somerset. It has been
communicated to our pages by Mr. Sandys.]
- God above, who rules all things,
- Monks and abbots, and beggars and kings,
- The ships that in the sea do swim,
- The earth, and all that is therein;
- Not forgetting the old cow's hide,
- And everything else in the world beside:
- And I wish his soul in heaven may dwell,
- Who first invented this leathern bottel!
- Oh! what do you say to the glasses fine?
- Oh! they shall have no praise of mine;
- Suppose a gentleman sends his man
- To fill them with liquor, as fast as he can,
- The man he falls, in coming away,
- And sheds the liquor so fine and gay;
- But had it been in the leathern bottel,
- And the stopper been in, 'twould all have been well!
- Oh! what do you say to the tankard fine?
- Oh! it shall have no praise of mine;
- Suppose a man and his wife fall out, -
- And such things happen sometimes, no doubt, -
- They pull and they haul; in the midst of the fray
- They shed the liquor so fine and gay;
- But had it been in the leathern bottel,
- And the stopper been in, 'twould all have been well!
- Now, when this bottel it is worn out,
- Out of its sides you may cut a clout;
- This you may hang upon a pin, -
- 'Twill serve to put odd trifles in;
- Ink and soap, and candle-ends,
- For young beginners have need of such friends.
- And I wish his soul in heaven may dwell,
- Who first invented the leathern bottel!
[Mr. Birkbeck, of Threapland House, Lintondale, in Craven, has
favoured us with the following fragment. The tune is well known in
the North, but all attempts on the part of Mr. Birkbeck to obtain
the remaining verses have been unsuccessful. The song is evidently
of the date of the first rebellion, 1715.]
- Long Preston Peg to proud Preston went,
- To see the Scotch rebels it was her intent.
- A noble Scotch lord, as he passed by,
- On this Yorkshire damsel did soon cast an eye.
- He called to his servant, which on him did wait,
- 'Go down to yon girl who stands in the gate,
- That sings with a voice so soft and so sweet,
- And in my name do her lovingly greet.'
[In the Yorkshire dales the young men are in the habit of going
about at Christmas time in grotesque masks, and of performing in
the farm-houses a sort of rude drama, accompanied by singing and
music. The maskers have wooden swords, and the performance is
an evening one. The following version of their introductory song
was taken down literally from the recitation of a young besom-
maker, now residing at Linton in Craven, who for some years past
has himself been one of these rustic actors. From the allusion to
the pace, or paschal-egg, it is evident that the play was
originally an Easter pageant, which, in consequence of the decline
of the gorgeous rites formerly connected with that season, has been
transferred to Christmas, the only festival which, in the rural
districts of Protestant England, is observed after the olden
fashion. The maskers generally consist of five characters, one of
whom officiates in the threefold capacity of clown, fiddler, and
master of the ceremonies. The custom of masking at Christmas is
common to many parts of Europe, and is observed with especial zest
in the Swiss cantons, where the maskers are all children, and the
performances closely resemble those of England. In Switzerland,
however, more care is bestowed upon the costume, and the songs are
better sung.]
Enter Clown, who sings in a sort of chant, or recititive.
- I open this door, I enter in,
- I hope your favour for to win;
- Whether we shall stand or fall,
- We do endeavour to please you all.
- A room! a room! a gallant room,
- A room to let us ride!
- We are not of the raggald sort,
- But of the royal tribe:
- Stir up the fire, and make a light,
- To see the bloody act to-night!
Here another of the party introduces his companions by singing to a
violin accompaniment, as follows:
- Here's two or three jolly boys, all in one mind;
- We've come a pace-egging, I hope you'll prove kind:
- I hope you'll prove kind with your money and beer,
- We shall come no more near you until the next year.
- Fal de ral, lal de lal, &c.
- The first that steps up is Lord [Nelson] you'll see,
- With a bunch of blue ribbons tied down to his knee;
- With a star on his breast, like silver doth shine;
- I hope you'll remember this pace-egging time.
- Fal de ral, &c.
- O! the next that steps up is a jolly Jack tar,
- He sailed with Lord [Nelson], during last war:
- He's right on the sea, Old England to view:
- He's come a pace-egging with so jolly a crew.
- Fal de ral, &c.
- O! the next that steps up is old Toss-Pot, you'll see,
- He's a valiant old man, in every degree,
- He's a valiant old man, and he wears a pig-tail;
- And all his delight is drinking mulled ale.
- Fal de ral, &c.
- O! the next that steps up is old Miser, you'll see;
- She heaps up her white and her yellow money;
- She wears her old rags till she starves and she begs;
- And she's come here to ask for a dish of pace eggs.
- Fal de ral, &a
The characters being thus duly introduced, the following lines are
sung in chorus by all the party.
- Gentlemen and ladies, that sit by the fire,
- Put your hand in your pocket, 'tis all we desire;
- Put your hand in your pocket, and pull out your purse,
- And give us a trifle, - you'll not be much worse.
Here follows a dance, and this is generally succeeded by a dialogue
of an ad libitum character, which varies in different districts,
being sometimes similar to the one performed by the sword-dancers.
[This is a very ancient production, though given from a modern
copy; it has always been popular amongst the poor 'brethren of the
mystic tie.' The late Henry O'Brien, A.B., quotes the seventh
verse in his essay On the Round Towers of Ireland. He generally
had a common copy of the hymn in his pocket, and on meeting with
any of his antiquarian friends who were not Masons, was in the
habit of thrusting it into their hands, and telling them that if
they understood the mystic allusions it contained, they would be in
possession of a key which would unlock the pyramids of Egypt! The
tune to the hymn is peculiar to it, and is of a plaintive and
solemn character.]
- Come all you freemasons that dwell around the globe,
- That wear the badge of innocence, I mean the royal robe,
- Which Noah he did wear when in the ark he stood,
- When the world was destroyed by a deluging flood.
- Noah he was virtuous in the sight of the Lord,
- He loved a freemason that kept the secret word;
- For he built the ark, and he planted the first vine,
- Now his soul in heaven like an angel doth shine.
- Once I was blind, and could not see the light,
- Then up to Jerusalem I took my flight,
- I was led by the evangelist through a wilderness of care,
- You may see by the sign and the badge that I wear.
- On the 13th rose the ark, let us join hand in hand,
- For the Lord spake to Moses by water and by land,
- Unto the pleasant river where by Eden it did rin,
- And Eve tempted Adam by the serpent of sin.
- When I think of Moses it makes me to blush,
- All on mount Horeb where I saw the burning bush;
- My shoes I'll throw off, and my staff I'll cast away,
- And I'll wander like a pilgrim unto my dying day.
- When I think of Aaron it makes me to weep,
- Likewise of the Virgin Mary who lay at our Saviour's feet;
- 'Twas in the garden of Gethsemane where he had the bloody sweat;
- Repent, my dearest brethren, before it is too late.
- I thought I saw twelve dazzling lights, which put me in surprise,
- And gazing all around me I heard a dismal noise;
- The serpent passed by me which fell unto the ground,
- With great joy and comfort the secret word I found.
- Some say it is lost, but surely it is found,
- And so is our Saviour, it is known to all around;
- Search all the Scriptures over, and there it will be shown;
- The tree that will bear no fruit must be cut down.
- Abraham was a man well beloved by the Lord,
- He was true to be found in great Jehovah's word,
- He stretched forth his hand, and took a knife to slay his son,
- An angel appearing said, The Lord's will be done!
- O, Abraham! O, Abraham! lay no hand upon the lad,
- He sent him unto thee to make thy heart glad;
- Thy seed shall increase like stars in the sky,
- And thy soul into heaven like Gabriel shall fly.
- O, never, O, never will I hear an orphan cry,
- Nor yet a gentle virgin until the day I die;
- You wandering Jews that travel the wide world round,
- May knock at the door where truth is to be found.
- Often against the Turks and Infidels we fight,
- To let the wandering world know we're in the right,
- For in heaven there's a lodge, and St. Peter keeps the door,
- And none can enter in but those that are pure.
- St. Peter he opened, and so we entered in,
- Into the holy seat secure, which is all free from sin;
- St. Peter he opened, and so we entered there,
- And the glory of the temple no man can compare.
[The most correct copy of this song is that given in The
Westminster Drollery, Part II. p. 80. It is there called The Rural
Dance About The May-pole, The Tune, The First-Figure Dance at Mr.
Young's Ball, May, 1671. The tune is in Popular Misic. The
May-pole, for so the song is called in modern collections, is a very
popular ditty at the present time. The common copies vary
considerably from the following version, which is much more correct
than any hitherto published.]
- Come, lasses and lads, take leave of your dads,
- And away to the may-pole hie;
- For every he has got him a she,
- And the minstrel's standing by;
- For Willie has gotten his Jill,
- And Johnny has got his Joan,
- To jig it, jig it, jig it,
- Jig it up and down.
- 'Strike up,' says Wat; 'Agreed,' says Kate,
- 'And I prithee, fiddler, play;'
- 'Content,' says Hodge, and so says Madge,
- For this is a holiday.
- Then every man did put
- His hat off to his lass,
- And every girl did curchy,
- Curchy, curchy on the grass.
- 'Begin,' says Hall; 'Aye, aye,' says Mall,
- 'We'll lead up Packington's Pound;'
- 'No, no,' says Noll, and so says Doll,
- 'We'll first have Sellenger's Round.'
- Then every man began
- To foot it round about;
- And every girl did jet it,
- Jet it, jet it, in and out.
- 'You're out,' says Dick; ''Tis a lie,' says Nick,
- 'The fiddler played it false;'
- ''Tis true,' says Hugh, and so says Sue,
- And so says nimble Alice.
- The fiddler then began
- To play the tune again;
- And every girl did trip it, trip it,
- Trip it to the men.
- 'Let's kiss,' says Jane, (36) 'Content,' says Nan,
- And so says every she;
- 'How many?' says Batt; 'Why three,' says Matt,
- 'For that's a maiden's fee.'
- But they, instead of three,
- Did give them half a score,
- And they in kindness gave 'em, gave 'em,
- Gave 'em as many more.
- Then after an hour, they went to a bower,
- And played for ale and cakes;
- And kisses, too; - until they were due,
- The lasses kept the stakes:
- The girls did then begin
- To quarrel with the men;
- And bid 'em take their kisses back,
- And give them their own again.
- Yet there they sate, until it was late,
- And tired the fiddler quite,
- With singing and playing, without any paying,
- From morning unto night:
- They told the fiddler then,
- They'd pay him for his play;
- And each a two-pence, two-pence,
- Gave him, and went away.
- 'Good night,' says Harry; 'Good night,' says Mary;
- 'Good night,' says Dolly to John;
- 'Good night,' says Sue; 'Good night,' says Hugh;
- 'Good night,' says every one.
- Some walked, and some did run,
- Some loitered on the way;
- And bound themselves with love-knots, love-knots,
- To meet the next holiday.
The Merry Fellows; or, He That Will Not Merry, Merry Be
[The popularity of this old lyric, of which ours is the ballad-
printer's version, has been increased by the lively and appropriate
music recently adapted to it by Mr. Holderness. The date of this
song is about the era of Charles II.]
- Now, since we're met, let's merry, merry be,
- In spite of all our foes;
- And he that will not merry be,
- We'll pull him by the nose.
- Cho. Let him be merry, merry there,
- While we're all merry, merry here,
- For who can know where he shall go,
- To be merry another year.
- He that will not merry, merry be,
- With a generous bowl and a toast,
- May he in Bridewell be shut up,
- And fast bound to a post.
- Let him, &c.
- He that will not merry, merry be,
- And take his glass in course,
- May he be obliged to drink small beer,
- Ne'er a penny in his purse.
- Let him, &c.
- He that will not merry, merry be,
- With a company of jolly boys;
- May he be plagued with a scolding wife,
- To confound him with her noise.
- Let him, &c.
- [He that will not merry, merry be,
- With his sweetheart by his side,
- Let him be laid in the cold churchyard,
- With a head-stone for his bride.
- Let him, &c.]
The Midnight Messenger; or, A Sudden Call From an Earthly
Glory to the Cold Grave
In a Dialogue between Death and a Rich Man; who, in the midst of
all his Wealth, received the tidings of his Last Day, to his
unspeakable and sorrowful Lamentation.
To the tune of Aim Not Too High.
[The following poem, and the two that immediately follow, belong to
a class of publications which have always been peculiar favourites
with the peasantry, in whose cottages they may be frequently seen,
neatly framed and glazed, and suspended from the white-washed
walls. They belong to the school of Quarles, and can be traced to
the time when that writer was in the height of his popularity.
These religious dialogues are numerous, but the majority of them
are very namby-pamby productions, and unworthy of a reprint. The
modern editions preserve the old form of the broadside of the
seventeenth century, and are adorned with rude woodcuts, probably
copies of ruder originals -
- 'wooden cuts
Strange, and uncouth; dire faces, figures dire,
Sharp-kneed, sharp-elbowed, and lean-ankled too,
With long and ghostly shanks, forms which once seen,
Can never be forgotten!'
- Wordsworth's Excursion.]
- Death.
- Thou wealthy man of large possessions here,
- Amounting to some thousand pounds a year,
- Extorted by oppression from the poor,
- The time is come that thou shalt be no more;
- Thy house therefore in order set with speed,
- And call to mind how you your life do lead.
- Let true repentance be thy chiefest care,
- And for another world now, now prepare.
- For notwithstanding all your heaps of gold,
- Your lands and lofty buildings manifold,
- Take notice you must die this very day;
- And therefore kiss your bags and come away.
- Rich Man.
- (He started straight and turned his head aside,
- Where seeing pale-faced Death, aloud he cried),
- Lean famished slave! why do you threaten so,
- Whence come you, pray, and whither must I go?
- Death.
- I come from ranging round the universe,
- Through courts and kingdoms far and near I pass,
- Where rich and poor, distressed, bond and free,
- Fall soon or late a sacrifice to me.
- From crowned kings to captives bound in chains
- My power reaches, sir; the longest reigns
- That ever were, I put a period to;
- And now I'm come in fine to conquer you.
- Rich Man.
- I can't nor won't believe that you, pale Death,
- Were sent this day to stop my vital breath,
- By reason I in perfect health remain,
- Free from diseases, sorrow, grief, and pain;
- No heavy heart, nor fainting fits have I,
- And do you say that I am drawing nigh
- The latter minute? sure it cannot be;
- Depart, therefore, you are not sent for me!
- Death.
- Yes, yes, I am, for did you never know,
- The tender grass and pleasant flowers that grow
- Perhaps one minute, are the next cut down?
- And so is man, though famed with high renown.
- Have you not heard the doleful passing bell
- Ring out for those that were alive and well
- The other day, in health and pleasure too,
- And had as little thoughts of death as you?
- For let me tell you, when my warrant's sealed,
- The sweetest beauty that the earth doth yield
- At my approach shall turn as pale as lead;
- 'Tis I that lay them on their dying bed.
- I kill with dropsy, phthisic, stone, and gout;
- But when my raging fevers fly about,
- I strike the man, perhaps, but over-night,
- Who hardly lives to see the morning light;
- I'm sent each hour, like to a nimble page,
- To infant, hoary heads, and middle age;
- Time after time I sweep the world quite through;
- Then it's in vain to think I'll favour you.
- Rich Man.
- Proud Death, you see what awful sway I bear,
- For when I frown none of my servants dare
- Approach my presence, but in corners hide
- Until I am appeased and pacified.
- Nay, men of greater rank I keep in awe
- Nor did I ever fear the force of law,
- But ever did my enemies subdue,
- And must I after all submit to you?
- Death.
- 'Tis very true, for why thy daring soul,
- Which never could endure the least control,
- I'll thrust thee from this earthly tenement,
- And thou shalt to another world be sent.
- Rich Man.
- What! must I die and leave a vast estate,
- Which, with my gold, I purchased but of late?
- Besides what I had many years ago? -
- What! must my wealth and I be parted so?
- If you your darts and arrows must let fly,
- Go search the jails, where mourning debtors lie;
- Release them from their sorrow, grief, and woe,
- For I am rich and therefore loth to go.
- Death.
- I'll search no jails, but the right mark I'll hit;
- And though you are unwilling to submit,
- Yet die you must, no other friend can do, -
- Prepare yourself to go, I'm come for you.
- If you had all the world and ten times more,
- Yet die you must, - there's millions gone before;
- The greatest kings on earth yield and obey,
- And at my feet their crowns and sceptres lay:
- If crowned heads and right renowned peers
- Die in the prime and blossoms of their years,
- Can you suppose to gain a longer space?
- No! I will send you to another place.
- Rich Man.
- Oh! stay thy hand and be not so severe,
- I have a hopeful son and daughter dear,
- All that I beg is but to let me live
- That I may them in lawful marriage give:
- They being young when I am laid in the grave,
- I fear they will be wronged of what they have:
- Although of me you will no pity take,
- Yet spare me for my little infants' sake.
- Death.
- If such a vain excuse as this might do,
- It would be long ere mortals would go through
- The shades of death; for every man would find
- Something to say that he might stay behind.
- Yet, if ten thousand arguments they'd use,
- The destiny of dying to excuse,
- They'll find it is in vain with me to strive,
- For why, I part the dearest friends alive;
- Poor parents die, and leave their children small
- With nothing to support them here withal,
- But the kind hand of gracious Providence,
- Who is their father, friend, and sole defence.
- Though I have held you long in disrepute,
- Yet after all here with a sharp salute
- I'll put a period to your days and years,
- Causing your eyes to flow with dying tears.
- Rich Man.
- (Then with a groan he made this sad complaint):
- My heart is dying, and my spirits faint;
- To my close chamber let me be conveyed;
- Farewell, false world, for thou hast me betrayed.
- Would I had never wronged the fatherless,
- Nor mourning widows when in sad distress;
- Would I had ne'er been guilty of that sin,
- Would I had never known what gold had been;
- For by the same my heart was drawn away
- To search for gold: but now this very day,
- I find it is but like a slender reed,
- Which fails me most when most I stand in need;
- For, woe is me! the time is come at last,
- Now I am on a bed of sorrow cast,
- Where in lamenting tears I weeping lie,
- Because my sins make me afraid to die:
- Oh! Death, be pleased to spare me yet awhile,
- That I to God myself may reconcile,
- For true repentance some small time allow;
- I never feared a future state till now!
- My bags of gold and land I'd freely give,
- For to obtain the favour here to live,
- Until I have a sure foundation laid.
- Let me not die before my peace be made!
- Death.
- Thou hast not many minutes here to stay,
- Lift up your heart to God without delay,
- Implore his pardon now for what is past,
- Who knows but He may save your soul at last?
- Rich Man.
- I'll water now with tears my dying bed,
- Before the Lord my sad complaint I'll spread,
- And if He will vouchsafe to pardon me,
- To die and leave this world I could be free.
- False world! false world, farewell! farewell! adieu!
- I find, I find, there is no trust in you!
- For when upon a dying bed we lie,
- Your gilded baits are nought but misery.
- My youthful son and loving daughter dear,
- Take warning by your dying father here;
- Let not the world deceive you at this rate,
- For fear a sad repentance comes too late.
- Sweet babes, I little thought the other day,
- I should so suddenly be snatched away
- By Death, and leave you weeping here behind;
- But life's a most uncertain thing, I find.
- When in the grave my head is lain full low,
- Pray let not folly prove your overthrow;
- Serve ye the Lord, obey his holy will,
- That he may have a blessing for you still.
- (Having saluted them, he turned aside,
- These were the very words before he died):
- A painful life I ready am to leave,
- Wherefore, in mercy, Lord, my soul receive.
[Of this popular country song there are a variety of versions. The
following, which is the most ancient, is transcribed from a black-
letter broadside in the Roxburgh Collection, entitled The Milk-
Maid's Life; or, A Pretty New Ditty Composed and Penned, The Praise
of the Milking-Pail to Defend. To a curious new tune called the
Milke-Maid's Dump. It is subscribed with the initials M. P.;
probably those of Martin Parker.]
- You rural goddesses,
- That woods and fields possess,
- Assist me with your skill, that may direct my quill,
- More jocundly to express,
- The mirth and delight, both morning and night,
- On mountain or in dale,
- Of them who choose this trade to use,
- And, through cold dews, do never refuse
- To carry the milking-pail.
- The bravest lasses gay,
- Live not so merry as they;
- In honest civil sort they make each other sport,
- As they trudge on their way;
- Come fair or foul weather, they're fearful of neither,
- Their courages never quail.
- In wet and dry, though winds be high,
- And dark's the sky, they ne'er deny
- To carry the milking-pail.
- Their hearts are free from care,
- They never will despair;
- Whatever them befal, they bravely bear out all,
- And fortune's frowns outdare.
- They pleasantly sing to welcome the spring,
- 'Gainst heaven they never rail;
- If grass well grow, their thanks they show,
- And, frost or snow, they merrily go
- Along with the milking-pail:
- Base idleness they do scorn,
- They rise very early i' th' morn,
- And walk into the field, where pretty birds do yield
- Brave music on every thorn.
- The linnet and thrush do sing on each bush,
- And the dulcet nightingale
- Her note doth strain, by jocund vein,
- To entertain that worthy train,
- Which carry the milking-pail.
- Their labour doth health preserve,
- No doctor's rules they observe,
- While others too nice in taking their advice,
- Look always as though they would starve.
- Their meat is digested, they ne'er are molested,
- No sickness doth them assail;
- Their time is spent in merriment,
- While limbs are lent, they are content,
- To carry the milking-pail.
- Upon the first of May,
- With garlands, fresh and gay,
- With mirth and music sweet, for such a season meet,
- They pass the time away.
- They dance away sorrow, and all the day thorough
- Their legs do never fail,
- For they nimbly their feet do ply,
- And bravely try the victory,
- In honour o' the milking-pail.
- If any think that I
- Do practise flattery,
- In seeking thus to raise the merry milkmaids' praise,
- I'll to them thus reply:-
- It is their desert inviteth my art,
- To study this pleasant tale;
- In their defence, whose innocence,
- And providence, gets honest pence
- Out of the milking-pail.
Back to the Index of
Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs