Winding Up, Or Serpent’s Coil Form.

The first or line form of games is characterised by no one player being distinguished above his fellows; there are no distinct or separate characters to be played. All the players on one line say the same words and perform the same actions; all advance together and retire together. Each line stands still while the other line advances, retires, and has its “say.” In this way questions are asked and answers are given. Questions and answers form an essential part of the line form of game. The one line of players imply action of a party composed of several persons who are of the same opinion, and the line on the opposite side is a party who hold different opinions, and express these in words and by actions; so that in no game played in line form do we get unanimous action of all the players, but half and half.

These line games represent in the main a contest, and there are contests of different kinds; that is, war between the people of two different locations, between parishes or border countries of different nationalities, and contests for wives, of a more or less friendly nature. That the lines or sides indicate people who come from one country or district to another country or district is shown, I think, by the fact that a line is drawn in the middle of the ground, which line separates the territory of the two sides. Players can go as far as the line on their own side, but one step over lands them in the enemy’s territory. In a marriage game of the line form, the girl when unwilling is pulled across the line, and when willing she walks across to the opposite side. It is also clear that in the marriage games the party on one side represents young men, and on the other side young women.

In the second group, the circle form, all the players join hands to form a circle. They all perform the same actions and say the same words. This circle form is used in three ways.

In the first or simplest class all the players perform the same actions, sing the same words all together. There is no division into parties, and no individual action or predominance. This method is adopted when a certain recurring custom is celebrated or a special event is commemorated. The event is described in pantomimic action, and accompanied with dance and song.

In the second class the circle is formed, the players all clasp hands, dance round together, and sing the same words; but the action is confined to first one and then two players, who are taken by “choice” from those forming the circle. This class principally consists of courtship, love-making, and marriage games. The two principal parties concerned usually have no words to say, though in some “love” games the centre player does express his or her own feelings in verse. The fact that this form is used for love and marriage games accounts for the much larger number of games in this class and their greater variety.

In the third class of the circle game the players form the circle to act the part of “chorus” to the story. There are also two, three, or four players, as required, who act parts in dumb show suitable to the character personified. In this class the circle personate both animate and inanimate objects. The circle is stationary—at least the players forming it do not dance or walk round. They sometimes represent houses; a village, and animals are usually represented rather than people.

The circle games I consider to be survivals of dramatic representations of customs performed by people of one village or of one town or tribe—representations of social customs of one place or people, as distinct from the “line” form of games, which represent a custom obtaining between two rival villages or tribes. Thus I am inclined to consider the joining of hands in a circle as a sign of amity, alliance, and kinship. In the case of the line games hands are clasped by all players on each side, who are thus in alliance against those on the opposite side. When hands are joined all round so that a circle is formed, all are concerned in the performance of the same ceremony. There is no division into parties, neither is difference of opinion shown either by action or words in circle games.

In the third class of game there are several distinct characters, and the game partakes more of the nature of what we should call a play proper, and may be considered an outcome of the circle play. There are several characters, usually a mother, a witch or old woman, an elder daughter and several younger children, a ghost, and sometimes animals, such as sheep, wolves, fox, hen, and chickens. The principal characters (not more than two or three) are played by different children, and these having each a part allotted to them, have also a certain amount of dialogue to say, and corresponding actions to perform. The remaining characters, whether children or animals, merely act their part when action is required, all doing the same thing, and have no words to say. The dialogue in these games is short and to the point. It has not been learnt from written sources, but orally, and as long as the main idea and principal incidents are not departed from, the players may, according to their capacity, add to or shorten the dialogue to heighten the situation. There is no singing in these games, though there is what perhaps might be called the remains of rhyme in the dialogue.

The fourth form, that of the arch, is played in two ways. In the first, two children clasp their hands and hold them up to form an arch. Under this all the other players run as if going through an arch or gateway, and the players are generally stopped by the two who form the arch. Then a circle is formed, and all the players join hands and dance round together. In the second way, the arch is formed as above, and all the players run under. These players are then caught one by one within the arch, and have to choose one of the two leaders, behind whom they stand. A tug-of-war then ensues between the two leaders and their followers.

The first of these, that ending with the circle or dancing, indicates the celebration of an event in which all the people join, and all are of one way of thinking—differing from this group of customs celebrated by the simple circle game by each person in turn performing a ceremony, signified in games by the action of going under or through an arch.

The second way, when the “tug” follows, represents a contest, but I do not think the contest is of the same kind as that of the line form. This rather represents the leaders of two parties who are antagonistic, who call, in the words of the rhymes, upon the people of a town, or faction, to join one of the two sides. The fact that each player in the line or string is caught by the leaders, and has to choose which of them he will fight under, together with the tug or pulling of one side over a marked line, by the other side, indicates a difference in the kind of warfare from the line contests, where territory is clearly the cause of the struggle and fight. The line contest shows a fight between people of different lands; and the arch contest, a method of choosing leaders by people living in one land or town.

In the fifth form, “winding up games,” the players join hands in a long line, and wind round and round one player at the end of the line, usually the tallest, who stands still until all are formed in a number of circles, something like a watch spring. They then unwind, sometimes running or dancing, in a serpentine fashion until all are again in straight line. These games probably refer to the custom of encircling trees, as an act of worship. They differ from the circle game in this way: The players in a circle game surround something or some one. In the “winding up” game they not only surround, but attachment or “hold” to the thing surrounded has to be kept.

The fact that these games lend themselves to such treatment, and the fact that I am obliged to use the terms, district, tribe, localities, obliged to speak of a state of contest between groups, of the sacred encircling of a tree, and of other significant usages, go far to suggest that these games must contain some element which belongs to the essential part of their form, and my next quest is for this element. I shall take each class of game, and endeavour to ascertain what element is present which does not necessarily belong to games, or which belongs to other and more important branches of human action; and it will depend on what this element is as to what can ultimately be said of the origin of the games.

Of the games played in “line” form, “[We are the Rovers]” is the best representative of pure contest between two opposing parties. If reference is made to the game ([vol. ii. pp. 343-356]), the words will be found to be very significant. In my account of the game ([pp. 356-60]), I suggest that it owes its origin to the Border warfare which existed on the Marches between England and Scotland and England and Wales, and I give my reasons, from analysing the game, why I consider it represents this particular form of contest rather than that of a fight between two independent countries. Both sides advancing and retiring in turn, while shouting their mutual defiance, and the final fight, which continues until all of one side are knocked down or captured, show that a deliberate fight was intended to be shown. I draw attention, too, to the war-cry used by each side, which is also significant of one of the old methods of rallying the men to the side of their leader—an especially necessary thing in undisciplined warfare. This game, then, contains relics of ancient social conditions. That such a contest game as this is represented by the line form combining words, singing, and action, is, I submit, good evidence of my contention that the line form of game denotes contest. This game, then, I consider a traditional type of contest game.

It is remarkable that among the ordinary, now somewhat old-fashioned, contest games played by boys there should be some which, I think, are degenerate descendants of this traditional type. There are a number of boys’ games, the chief features of which are catching and taking prisoners and getting possession of an enemy’s territory—as in the well-known “[Prisoner’s Base]” and “[Scots and English].”’s “[Prisoner Base]” (ii. pp. 80-87) in its present form does not appear to have much in common with games of the type of “[We are the Rovers],” but on turning to Strutt we find an earlier way of playing ([ibid. p. 80]). Now, this description by Strutt gives us “[Prisoner’s Base]” played by two lines of players, each line joining hands, their homes or bases being at a distance of twenty to thirty feet apart. That the line of players had to keep to their own ground is, I think, manifest, from it being necessary for one of the line to touch the base. There is no mention of a leader. Thus we have here an undoubted form of a contest game, where the taking of prisoners is the avowed motive, played in almost the same manner as the line dramatic game. When the dramatic representation of a contest became formulated in a definite game, the individual running out and capturing a certain player on the opposite side would soon develop and become a rule of the game, instead of all on one side trying to knock down all on the other side. It may be a point to remember, too, that in primitive warfare the object is to knock down and kill as many of the enemy as possible, rather than the capture of prisoners.

In other games of a similar kind, the well-known “[Scots and English]” (ii. p. 183), for example, we have the ground divided into two parts, with a real or imaginary line drawn in the middle; the players rush across the line and try to drag one of the opposite side across it, or to capture the clothes of the players.

In other boys’ games—“[Lamploo],” “[Rax],” “[King of Cantland],” “[King Cæsar],” “[Stag]”—there are the two sides; the players are sometimes all on one side, and they have to rush across to the other, or there are some players on each side, who rush across to the opposite, trying to avoid being taken prisoner by a player who stands in the middle between the opposite goals. When this player catches a boy, that boy joins hands with him; the next prisoner taken also joins hands, and these assist in capturing others. This is continued until all the players are caught and have joined hands in a long line, practically reverting to the line form of game, and showing, according to my theory of the line game, that all joining hands are of one side or party. If the line gets broken the players can run back to their own side. There are many other games which are played in a similar way (see Contest Games), though farther removed from the original form. In most of these we have practically the same thing—the sides have opposite homes, and the leader, though individual at first, becomes merged in the group when the line is formed, and the game ends by all the players being on one side. It must be mentioned, too, that in these boys’ games of fighting, the significant custom of “crowning,” that is, touching the head of the captured one, obtains. If this is omitted the prisoner is at liberty to escape (see “[Cock],” “[King of Cantland]”).

Although there is no dialogue between the opposing parties in these contest games, there are in some versions undoubted remains of it, now reduced to a few merely formal words called a “nominy.” These “nominys” must be said before the actual fight begins, and the remains are sufficient to show that the nominy was originally a defiance uttered by one side and answered by the other. For these nominys, see “[Blackthorn],” “[Chickidy Hand],” “[Hunt the Staigie],” “[Scots and English],” “[Johnny Rover],” “[Shepherds],” “[Stag],” “[Warney],” &c.

The next most important games in line form are marriage games. In the well-known “[Nuts in May]” (vol. i. p. 424-433) there is a contest between the two parties, but the contest here is to obtain an individual for the benefit of the side. A line is drawn on the ground and a player is deliberately sent to “fetch” another player from the opposite side, and that this player is expected to conquer is shown by the fact that he is selected for this purpose, and also because the ceremony of “crowning” prevails in some versions. The boy, after he has pulled the girl across the line, places his hand on her head to complete the capture and to make a prisoner. This custom of “crowning” prevails in many games where prisoners are made, and I have already mentioned it as occurring in the boys’ contest games. If the crowning is performed, the capture is complete; if not performed, the prisoner may escape.

The evidence of this game, I consider, points to customs which belong to the ancient form of marriage, and to what is technically known as marriage by capture.

In the game of the “[Three Dukes]” (vol. ii. p. 233-255), it will be noticed that the actions are very spirited. Coquetry, contempt, and annoyance are all expressed in action, and the boys imitate riding and the prancing of horses. I must draw special attention to the remarks I have made in my account of the game, and for convenience in comparing the line marriage games I will repeat shortly the principal points here.

In some versions, the three dukes each choose a wife at the same time, and when these three are “wived” or “paired” another three do the same. In another version “five” dukes each choose a wife, and all five couples dance round together. But most significant of all is the action of the dukes after selecting the girl, trying to carry her off, and her side trying to prevent it.

In this game, then, I think we have a distinct survival of or remembrance of the tribal marriage—marriage at a period when it was the custom for the men of a clan or village to seek wives from the girls of another clan—both belonging to one tribe. The game is a marriage game of the most matter-of-fact kind. Young men arrive from a place at some distance for the purpose of seeking wives. The maidens are apparently ready and expecting their arrival. They are as willing to become wives as the men are to become husbands. It is not marriage by force or capture, though the triumphant carrying off of a wife appears. It is exogamous marriage custom. The suggested depreciation of the girls, and their saucy rejoinders, are so much good-humoured chaff and banter exchanged to enhance each other’s value. There is no mention of “love” in the game, nor courtship between the boy and girl. The marriage formula does not appear, nor is there any sign that a “ceremony” or “sanction” to marry is necessary, nor does “kissing” occur. Another interesting point about this game is the refrain, “With a rancy, tancy, tee,” which refrain, or something similar, accompanies all verses of all versions, and separates this game from others akin to it. This refrain is doubtless a survival of an old tribal war-cry.

The game of “[The Three Knights from Spain]” (ii. pp. 257-279), played in the same way as “[Three Dukes],” may appear at first to be a variant of the “[Three Dukes]”; but it is significant that the form of marriage custom is different, though it is still marriage under primitive conditions of society. The personal element, entirely absent from the “[Three Dukes],” is here one of the principal characteristics. The marriage is still one without previous courtship or love between two individuals, but the parental element is present here, or, at any rate, if not parental, there is that of some authority, and a sanction to marry is given, although there is no trace of any actual ceremony. The young men apparently desire some particular person in marriage, and a demand is made for her. The suitors here are, I think, making a demand on the part of another rather than for themselves. They may be the ambassadors or friends of the would-be bridegroom, and are soliciting for a marriage in which purchase-money or dowry is to be paid. The mention of “gold” and “silver” and the line, “She must be sold,” and the offering of presents by the “Knights,” are important. These indications of purchase refer to a time when the custom of offering gold, money, and other valuables for a bride was in vogue. While, therefore, the game has traces of capturing or carrying off the bride, this carrying off is in strict accord with the conditions prevalent when marriage by purchase had succeeded to marriage by capture. There is evidence in this game of a mercantile spirit, which suggests that women and girls were too valuable to be parted with by their own tribe or family without something deemed an equivalent in return.

In another line game, “[Here comes Three Sailors]” (ii. pp. 282-289), there is still more evidence of the mercantile or bargaining spirit. Here the representative of the parental element or other authority selects the richest and highest in rank of the suitors, and a sum of money is given with the bride. The suitors are supposed to have performed some actions which have gained them renown and entitled them to a wife. The suitors are accepted or rejected by a person having authority, and this authority introduces an interesting and suggestive feature. The suitors are invited to stay or lodge in the house if accepted, probably meaning admission into the family. The girl is to “wake up,” and not sleep, that is, to rouse up, be merry, dress in bridal array, and prepare for the coming festival. She is given to the suitors with “in her pocket one hundred pounds,” and “on her finger a gay gold ring.” This is given by the “mother” or those having authority, and refers, I believe, to the property the girl takes with her to her new abode for her proper maintenance there; the ring shows her station and degree, and is a token that she is a fit bride for a “king.” Curious, too, is the “Here’s my daughter safe and sound,” which looks like a warrant or guarantee of the girl’s fitness to be a bride, and the robbery of the bride may also have originally related to the removal of the bride’s wedding-dress or ornaments before she enters on her wifely duties.

Following these definite marriage games in line form, in which previous love or courtship does not appear, we have several games formerly played at weddings, practically as a part of the necessary amusement to be gone through after a marriage ceremony by the company present, amusements in which are the traces of earlier custom.

“[Babbity Bowster]” (i. pp. 9-11) is an old Scottish dance or game which used to be played as the last dance at weddings and merrymakings. It was danced by two lines of players, lads on one side, girls on the other. A lad took a handkerchief—in earlier times a bolster or pillow—and danced out in front of the girls, singing. He then selected a girl, threw the handkerchief into her lap or round her neck, holding both ends himself, and placed the handkerchief at her feet on the floor. His object was to obtain a kiss. This was not given without a struggle, and the line of girls cheered their companion at every unsuccessful attempt the boy made. When a girl took the handkerchief she threw it to a boy, who had to run after and catch her and then attempt to take a kiss. When all had done thus they danced in line form. This dance took place at the time when bride and bridegroom retired to the nuptial chamber. It is probable the bride and bridegroom would first go through the dance, and after the bridegroom had caught his bride and they had retired the dance would be continued in sport. The chasing of the bride in sport by her new-made husband at the close of the marriage festivities is mentioned in old ballads.

In the “[Cushion Dance]” (i. pp. 87-94) we have an instance of another similar old English game sang and danced at weddings. The “[Cushion Dance],” though not played in line form, has two other elements of “[Babbity Bowster].” The description is so interesting, I will repeat it shortly here. The company were all seated. Two young men left the room, and returned carrying, one a square cushion, the other a drinking horn or silver tankard. The young man carrying the cushion locked the door, taking the key. The young men then danced round the room to a lively tune played by a fiddler, and sang the words of the dance. There is a short dialogue with the fiddler, in which it is announced that “Jane Sandars won’t come to.” The fiddler says “She must come, whether she will or no.” The young men then dance round again and choose a young woman, before whom they place the cushion and offer the horn or cup. The girl and the young man kneel on the cushion and kiss. Here there is no capturing or chasing of the girl, but her reluctance to be brought to the cushion is stated by another person, and the locking of the door is evidently done to prevent escape of the girls.

Other line games contain the element of courting, some versions of “[Green Grass],” for instance (i. pp. 161-62), show boys on one line, girls on the other, inviting girls to come and dance, and promising them gifts. After the boys have selected a girl, she is asked if she will come. She replies first No! then Yes! “[Pray, Pretty Miss],” is similar to these (vol. ii. pp. 65-67).

The remaining line form of marriage games are probably degenerate versions of “[Three Dukes],” “[Three Knights],” except “[Here Comes a Lusty Wooer]” (i. 202) and “[Jolly Hooper]” (i. 287-88). Ritson records the first of these two in “Gammer Gurton’s Garland,” 1783; the second is probably a degenerate version of the first or similar version. They are both demands for a bride.

The other important line games are “[Jenny Jones]” (i. 260-283), “[Lady of the Land],” and “[Queen Anne].” I refer here to the Scotch version of “Jenny Jones,” quoted from Chambers, given in vol. i. p. 281, where “Janet Jo” is a dramatic entertainment amongst young rustics. Two of the party represent a goodman and a goodwife, the rest a family of daughters. One of the lads, the best singer, enters, demands to court Janet Jo. He is asked by the goodwife what he will give for Janet Jo. His offers of a peck o’ siller, a peck of gold, are refused; he offers more and is accepted, and told to sit beside his chosen one. He then has a scramble with her for kisses. Versions of this game which indicate funeral customs will be treated under that head; but love and courtship appear in the game, and the courting appears to be that of a young man or young men, to whom objection is made, pretended or real; the suitors are evidently objects of suspicion to the parental authority, and their sincerity is tested by the offers they make.

In “[Queen Anne],” vol. ii. pp. 90-102, I have attempted a conjectural rendering of what the game might have been, by putting together the words of different versions. If this conjectural restoration be accepted as something near the original form, it would suggest that this game originated from one of the not uncommon customs practised at weddings and betrothals, where the suitor has to discriminate between several girls all dressed exactly alike, and to distinguish his bride by some token. This incident of actual primitive custom also obtains in folk-tales, showing its strong hold on popular tradition. Many a lost bride in the folk-tales proves her identity by having possession of some article previously given as a token, and this idea may account for the “ball” incident in this game. (See also “[King William].”)

From these games, when thus taken together, we have evidence of the existence of customs obtaining in primitive marriage, and the fact that these customs, namely, those of marriage by capture, marriage by purchase, marriage by consent of others than those principally concerned, in other words, marriage between comparative strangers, occur in games played in line form, a form used for contest and fighting games, tends to show that the line form is used for the purpose of indicating the performance of customs which are supposed to take place between people living in different countries, towns, and villages, or people of different tribes or of different habits and customs. The more imperfect games of this type, though they have lost some of the vigour, have still enough left to show, when placed with the others, a connection with customs performed in the same manner.

In “[Lady of the Land],” for instance (vol. i. pp. 313-20), the words indicate a lady hiring a poorer woman’s daughters as servants, and, no doubt, originates from the country practice of hiring servants at fairs, or from hirings being dramatically acted at Harvest Homes. The old practice of hirings at fairs is distinctly to be traced in local customs (see p. 319), and is a common incident in folk-tales. In this game, too, actions would be performed suitable to the work the players undertake to do.

It is not necessary to mention in detail any of the remaining line games, because they are fragmentary in form, and do not add any further evidence to that already stated.

In considering this group of games it is obvious, I think, that we have elements of custom and usage which would not primarily originate in a game, but in a condition of local or tribal life which has long since passed away. It is a life of contest, a life, therefore, which existed before the days of settled politics, when villages or tribal territories had their own customs differing from each other, and when not only matters of political relationship were settled by the arbitrament of the sword, but matters now considered to be of purely personal relationship, namely, marriage. While great interest gathers round the particular marriage customs or particular contests indicated in this group of games, the chief point of interest lies in the fact that they are all governed by the common element of contest.

I will now turn to the circle games. Like the line games, this form contains games which show marriage custom, but it is significant that they all show a distinctly different form of marriage. Thus they all show courtship and love preceding the marriage, and they show that a distinct ceremony of marriage is needful; but this ceremony is not necessarily the present Church ceremony. The two best examples are “[Sally Water]” (vol. ii. pp. 149-179) and “[Merry-ma-tansa]” (vol. i. pp. 369-367).

In “[Sally Water]” the two principal characters have no words to say, but one chooses another deliberately, and the bond is sealed by a kiss, and in some instances with joining of hands. The circle of friends approve the choice, and a blessing and good wishes follow for the happiness of the married couple, wishes that children may be born to them, and the period of the duration of the marriage for seven years (the popular notion of the time for which the marriage vows are binding). I have printed a great many versions of this game (about fifty), and note that in the majority of them “Sally” and “Water” are conspicuous words. In fact they are usually taken to mean the name of the girl, but on examining the game closely I think it is possible, and probable, that “Sally Water” may be a corruption of some other word or words, not the name of a girl; that the word “Water” is connected, not with the name of the maiden, but with the action of sprinkling which she is called upon to fulfil. The mention of water is pretty constant throughout the game. There are numerous instances of the corruption of words in the game, and the tendency has been to lose the sprinkling of water incident altogether.

The sitting or kneeling attitude, which indicates a reverential attitude, obtains in nearly all versions, as do the words “Rise and choose a young man,” and “Crying for a young man.” This “crying” for a young man does not necessarily mean weeping; rather I consider it to mean “announcing a want” in the way “wants” or “losses” were cried formerly by the official crier of a town, and in the same manner as in games children “cry” forfeits; but, losing this meaning in this game, children have substituted “weeping,” especially as “weeping” with them expresses many “wants” or “woes.” The incident of “crying” for a lover, in the sense of wanting a lover, appears in several of these games. I have heard the expression they’ve been “cried in church” used as meaning the banns have been read. The choosing is sometimes “to the east” and “to the west,” instead of “for the best and worst.” Now, the expression “for better for worse” is an old marriage formula preserved in the vernacular portion of the ancient English Marriage Service, and I think we have the same formula in this game, especially as the final admonition is to choose the “one loved best.” Then comes the very general lines of the marriage formula occurring so frequently in these games, “Now you’re married, we wish you joy,” &c.

In “[Merry-ma-tansa]” the game again consists of a marriage ceremony, with fuller details. The choice of the girl is announced to the assembled circle of friends by a third person, and the friends announce their approval or disapproval. If they disapprove, another choice is made. When they approve, the marriage formula is repeated, and the capacity of the bride to undertake housewifely duties is questioned in verse by the friends (p. 370). All the circle then perform actions imitating sweeping and dusting a house, baking and brewing, shaping and sewing. The marriage formula is sung, and prognostications and wishes for the birth of children are followed by actions denoting the nursing of a baby and going to church, probably for a christening. In one version, too, the bride is lifted into the circle by two of the players. This may indicate the carrying of the bride into her new home, or the lifting of the bride across the threshold, a well-known custom. In [another version] (Addenda, p. 444) after the ceremony the bridegroom is blindfolded and has to catch his bride.

These two games relate undoubtedly to marriage customs, and to no other ceremony or practice. They are, so to speak, the type forms to which others will assimilate.

In “[Isabella]” (vol. i. pp. 247-56) the actions indicate a more modern marriage ceremony. The young couple, after choosing, go to church, clasp hands, put on ring, kneel down, say prayers, kiss, and eat dinner. The clasping of hands, putting on a ring, and kissing are more like a solemn betrothal before a marriage ceremony.

In the other marriage games which show remains of a ceremony are those of the kind to which “[All the Boys]” belongs (vol. i. pp. 2-6). In this game, customs which belong to a rough and rude state of society are indicated. The statement is made that a man cannot be happy without a wife. He “huddles” and “cuddles” the girl, and “puts her on his knee.”

The principal thing here to be noted is the mention in all versions of this game the fact that some food is prepared by the bride, which she gives to the bridegroom to eat. This, although called a “pudding,” refers, of course, to the bridal cake, and to the old custom of the bride preparing it herself, and giving some to her husband first.

Other rhymes of this kind, belonging, probably, to the same game, are “[Down in the Valley],” “[Mary mixed a Pudding],” “[Oliver, Oliver, follow the King],” “[Down in Yonder Meadow].” In all these the making and eating of a particular “pudding” or food is mentioned as an important item; in two, catching and kissing the sweetheart is mentioned; and in all, “courting” and “cuddling”; articles for domestic use are said to be bought by the bride. The formal ceremony of marriage is contained in the verbal contract of the two parties, and the important ceremony of the bridegroom and bride partaking of the bridal food. The eating together of the same food is an essential part of the ceremony among some savage and semi-civilised peoples. The rhymes have a peculiar parallel in the rude and rough customs associated with betrothal and marriage which prevailed in Wales and the North of England.

In “[Poor Mary sits a-weeping]” (vol. ii. pp. 46-62) we have very distinctly the desire of the girl for a “lover.” She is “weeping” for a sweetheart, and, as in the case of “[Sally Water],” her weeping or “crying” is to make her “want” known. She is told by her companions to rise and make her choice. In some versions the marriage lines follow, in others the acceptance of the choice ends with the giving of a kiss.

Others of a similar kind are “[Here stands a Young Man who wants a Sweetheart]” (vol. i. p. 204), “[Silly Old Man who wants a Wife]” (vol. ii. 196-99). This is a simple announcement of the young man’s need for a wife or sweetheart (probably originally intended to announce his having arrived at manhood, as expressed in the expression, “he ain’t a man till he’s got a sweetheart and gone a-courtin’”). These verses are followed by the marriage formula. Games of this kind are used for a kiss in the ring game, without the chasing and capturing. The ordinary kiss in the ring games are probably relics of older custom. These consist of one person going round the assembled circle with a handkerchief and choosing another of the opposite sex, after saying a nominy or form of set words. This was probably originally something in the shape of a “counting out” rhyme, to obtain sweethearts by “lot.” A chase follows, and capture of the girl, and the giving and receiving of a kiss in the circle. This was a method of choosing sweethearts which prevailed until quite a late period at country festivals and fairs, but at an earlier period was a serious function. It is still customary on Easter and Whit-Monday for this game to be played on village greens, and the introduction thus afforded is held sufficient to warrant continued acquaintance between young people.

In connection with this class of games I must point out that a game such as “[Hey, Wullie Wine]” (vol. i. pp. 207-210), though it cannot be considered exactly a marriage game, points to the matter-of-fact way in which it was customary for young people to possess sweethearts. It seems to have been thought not only desirable, but necessary to their social standing. A slur is cast on the young man or young woman who has no lover, and so every facility is given them to make a choice from among their acquaintances. In the game “[King William]” is a remnant of the disguising of the bride among some of her girl friends and the bridegroom’s test of recognition, when that custom became one of the forms of amusement at weddings.

The remaining love and marriage games mostly consist of lines said in praise of some particular girl or young man, the necessity of him or her possessing a sweetheart, and their being married. These are probably fragments of the more complete forms preserved in the other games of this class. Marriage games, preceded by courtship or love-making, are played in the second method of the circle form.

Among the games played in the first method of the circle form, “[Oats and Beans and Barley],” and “[Would you know how doth the Peasant],” show harvest customs. The first of these (vol. ii. pp. 1-13) shows us a time when oats, beans, and barley were the principal crops grown, before wheat—now, and for some time, one of the principal crops—came into such general cultivation as at present. All the players join in singing the words and performing the actions. They imitate sowing of seed, folding arms and standing at ease while the corn is growing, clap hands and stamp on the ground to awake the earth goddess, and turning round and bowing, to propitiate the spirit and do reverence to her. In “[Would you know how doth the Peasant]” (ii. 399-401) we find actions performed showing sowing, reaping, threshing, kneeling, and praying, and then resting and sleeping. These actions are in both games accompanied by dancing round hand in hand. These two games, then, take us back to a time when a ceremony was performed by all engaged in sowing and reaping grain; when it was thought necessary to the proper growth of the crops that a religious ceremony should be performed to propitiate the earth spirit. I believe these games preserve the tradition of the formula sung and danced at the spring festivals, about which Mr. Frazer has written so fully.

“[Oats and Beans and Barley]” also preserves a marriage formula, and after the religious formula has been sung and danced, courting and marriage follows. A partner is said to be wanted, is chosen, and the marriage ceremony follows. The addition of this ceremony to the agricultural custom is of considerable significance, especially as the period is that of spring, when, according to Westermarck, natural human marriage, as also animal pairing, takes place. It is evidently necessary to this game for all the players to perform the same actions, and the centre player is not required until the choosing a partner occurs. There is no centre player in the other agricultural game, and no marriage occurs.

In “[When I was a Young Girl]” (ii. pp. 362-374) we have all players performing actions denoting the principal events of their lives from girlhood to old age. When young, enjoyment in the form of dancing is represented (in present day versions, going to school is taking the place of this), then courting, marriage, nursing a baby, and occupations which women perform; the death of the baby and of husband follows, and the woman takes in washing, drives a cart to support herself, and finally gets old. Here, again, there is little doubt that this game owes its origin to those dances originally sacred in character, in which men and women performed actions, accompanied with song and dance, of the same nature as those they wished or intended to perform seriously in their own lives. “[Mulberry Bush]” is another descendant of this custom. In “[Green Gravel]” and “[Wallflowers]” we have a death or funeral custom. Originally there may have been other actions performed than those the game contains now. These two are noticeable for the players turning themselves round in the course of the play so that they face outwards. It is this turning outwards, or “to the wall,” which indicates hopeless sorrow and grief, and there is some probability that the death mourned is that of a maiden, by the other maidens of the village. The game is not a representation of an ordinary funeral.

I must here refer to the game of “[Rashes]” (Addenda, ii. pp. 452, 453). I have not succeeded in obtaining a version played now, and fear it is lost altogether, which is, perhaps, not surprising, as the use of “rushes” has practically ceased; but, as recorded by Mr. Radcliffe in 1873, there is no doubt it represented the survival of the time when rushes were gathered and used with ceremony of a religious nature.

Even in the extremely simple “[Ring a Ring of Roses]” (ii. 108-111), now only a nursery game played by very young children, there can be traced a relationship to a dance, in which the use of flowers, and all the dancers bowing or falling prostrate to the ground together, with loud exclamations of delight obtained. It may well be that sneezing, an imitation of which is an essential part of the game, was actually a necessary part of the ceremonial, and sneezing was always considered of sacred significance among primitive peoples. It is not probable that children would introduce this of their own accord in a dance and “bop down” game.

The games played in the third method of this group are also representative of custom. In “[Old Roger]” (vol. ii. pp. 16-24), the circle of players is stationary throughout; the circle sings the words describing the story, and the other players or actors run into the circle and act their several parts in dumb show. The story, it will be seen, is not the acting of a funeral, but the planting of a tree over the grave of a dead person by relatives and friends, and the spirit connection which this tree has with the dead. The spirit of the dead “Old Roger” enters the tree, and resents the carrying away of the fruit by the old woman by jumping up and making her drop the apples. Possession of the fruit would give her power over the spirit. That the tree is sacred is clear; and I am tempted to suggest that we may possibly have in this game a survival of the worship of the sacred tree, and its attendant priest watching until killed by his successor, as shown to us by Mr. Frazer in the story of the “Golden Bough.”

“[Round and Round the Village]” (ii. pp. 122-143) shows us the performance of a recurring festival very clearly in the words which accompany all versions, “As we have done before.” This conveys the idea of a special event, the event in the game marriage, and I suggest that we have here a periodical village festival, at which marriages took place. It is characteristic of this, as in “[Old Roger],” that the chorus or circle stand still and sing the event, while the two characters act. This acting is the dancing round the village, going in and out the windows and houses, then choosing a lover, and “follow her to London.” It is quite possible that the perambulation of boundaries with which festive dances and courtship were often associated would originate this game. The perambulation was a recurring custom periodically performed, and on p. 142, vol. ii., I have given some instances of custom which, I think, confirm this.

In “[Who goes round my Stone Wall]” we find the players in circle form, standing still and representing the houses of a village (the stone wall), and also animals. The game represents the stealing of sheep, one by one, from the village, by a predatory animal or thief. In this game the circle do not sing the story. That element has disappeared; the two actors repeat a dialogue referring to the stealing of the sheep from the “wall.” This dialogue is short, and is disappearing. The game is not now understood, and consequently is dying out. “[Booman],” another of the same kind, represents a funeral. The grave is dug in action, Booman is carried to his grave, the dirge is sang over him, and flowers are pretended to be strewn over.

There are other circle games, which it is not needful to examine in detail. They are fragmentary, and do not present any fresh features of interest. It is, however, important to note that a few examples have evidently been derived from love ballads, drinking songs, and toasts; some of the dance games are of this origin. This may be explained by the fact that children, knowing the general form of marriage games, would naturally dance in circle form to any ballad verses in which marriage or love and courtship occurs, and in this manner the ballad would become apparently a fresh game, though it would only be putting new words to an old formula of action.

Dr. Jacob Jacobsen, in Dialect and Place Names of Shetland, tells us that all the vissiks or ballads have been forgotten since 1750, or thereby. They were sung to a dance, in which men and women joined hands and formed a ring, moving forwards, and keeping time with their hands and feet. Mr. Newell (Games, p. 78), records that “Barbara Allen” was sung and danced in New England at children’s parties at a period when dancing was forbidden to be taught in schools. “Auld Lang Syne” is a further instance.

It will easily be seen that the circle games have a distinctive characteristic compared with the line games. These, as I have already pointed out, are games of contest, whereas the circle games are games in which a homogeneous group of persons are performing a ceremony belonging entirely to themselves. The ceremony is of a religious character, as in “[Oats and Beans and Barley],” or “[Old Roger],” dedicated to a spirit intimately connected with the group who perform it, and having nothing belonging to any outside group. The position of the marriage ceremony in this group is peculiar. It has settled down from the more primitive state of things shown in the line marriage games, and has acquired a more social and domestic form. Except in the very significant water custom in “[Sally Water],” which I have suggested (ii. pp. 176, 177) may take us back to perhaps the very oldest stage of culture, all the games in this group are evidently of a later formation. Let it be noted, too, that the circle has deep religious significance not entirely absent from the customs of comparatively later times, among which the singing of “Auld Lang Syne” is the most generally known.

But in speaking of matters of religious significance, it is important to bear in mind that we are not dealing with the religion of the Church. Everywhere it is most significant that marriage ceremony, sacred rite, social custom, or whatever is contained in these games, do not take us to the religion of to-day. Non-Christian rites can only be pre-Christian in origin, and these games therefore take us to pre-Christian religious or social custom, and this is sufficient to stamp them with an antiquity which alone would certify to the importance of studying this branch of folk-lore.

To take now the dialogue or individual form of game, the best example for my purpose is “[Mother, Mother, the Pot boils over]” (vol. i. pp. 396-401). Here the chorus has disappeared; the principal characters tell the story in dialogue, the minor characters only acting when the dialogue necessitates it, and then in dumb show. This is an interesting and important game. It is a complete drama of domestic life at a time when child-stealing and witchcraft were rife. A mother goes out to work, and returns to find one of her seven children missing. The game describes the stealing of the children one by one by the witch, but the little drama tells even more than this. It probably illustrates some of the practices and customs connected with fire-worship and the worship of the hearth. There is a pot, which is a magical one, and which boils over when each one of the children is stolen and the mother’s presence is necessary. A remarkable point is that the witch asks to borrow a light from the fire. The objection to the giving of fire out of the house is a well-known and widely-diffused superstition, the possession of a brand from the house fire giving power to the possessor over the inmates. The witch in this game takes away a child when the eldest daughter consents to give her a light. The spitting on the hearth gives confirmation to the theory that the desecration of the hearth is the cause of the pot boiling over. Instances of magical pots are not rare.[20]

[20] Mr. W. F. Kirby refers me to the form of initiation into witchcraft in Saxony, where the candidate danced round a pot filled with magic herbs, singing—

“I believe in this pot,
And abjure God;”

or else it was—

“I abjure God,
And believe in this pot.”

After the children are stolen the mother has evidently a long and troublesome journey in search of them; obstacles are placed in her path quite in the manner of the folk-tale. Blood must not be spilled on the threshold. This game, then, which might be considered only as one of child-stealing, becomes, when examined on the theories accompanying the ancient house ritual, an extraordinary instance of the way beliefs and customs have been dramatised, and so perpetuated. Other games of a similar character to this, and perhaps derived from it, are “[Witch],” “[Gipsy],” “[Steal the Pigs].”

Amongst other games classified as dialogue games are those in which animals take part. In some there is a contest between a beast of prey, usually a fox or wolf, and a hen and her chickens or a goose and her goslings; in others a shepherd or keeper guards sheep from a wolf, and in these animals of the chase are hunted or baited for sport. In the animal contest games, “[Fox and Goose],” “[Hen and Chickens],” “[Gled-wylie],” “[Auld Grannie],” “[Old Cranny Crow],” all played in the dialogue form, the dialogue announces that the fox wants some food, and he arouses the suspicion of the goose or hen by prowling around or near her dwelling. After a parley, in which he tries to deceive the mother animal, he announces his intention of catching one of the chickens. The hen declares she will protect her brood, and a contest ensues. These games have of course arisen from the well-known predatory habits of the wolf, fox, and kite. On the other hand, the games illustrating the hunting or baiting of animals, such as “[Baste the Bear],” “[Fox in the Hole],” “[Hare and Hounds],” are simply imitations of those sports. “[Baiting the Bear],” a popular and still played game, has continued since the days of bear-baiting.

I may also mention the games dealing with ghosts. “[Ghost at the Well],” “[Mouse and Cobbler],” show the prevailing belief in ghosts. Playing at Ghosts has been one of the most popular of games. These two show the game in a very degenerate condition. I need not, I think, describe in detail any more of the dialogue games. There are none so good as “[Mother, the Pot boils over],” but that was hardly to be expected. The customs which no doubt were originally dramatised in them all have in many cases been lost, as in the case of some versions of “[Mother, the Pot boils over].”

The dialogue games appear to me to be later in form than both line and circle games. They are, in fact, developments of these earlier forms. Thus the “[Fox and Goose]” and “[Hen and Chickens]” type is played practically in line form, and belongs to the contest group, while the “[Witch]” type is probably representative of the circle form. But they have assumed a dramatic character of a very definite shape. This, as will be seen later on, is of considerable importance in the evidence of the ancient origin of games; but I will only point out here that this group has allowed the dramatic element to have full scope, with the result that a pure dialogue has been evolved, while custom and usage has to some extent been pushed in the background.

The next group is the arch form of game. This I divide into two kinds—those ending in circle or dance form, and those ending with a contest between two leaders. Of this first form there are several examples. “[London Bridge]” (i. pp. 333-50) is possibly the most interesting. Two players form the arch, all the others follow in single file. The words of the story are sung while all the players run under or through the arch. The players are all caught in turn in the arch, and then stand aside; their part is finished. In some cases the game begins by all forming a circle, and the verses are sung while the circle dances round. The arch is then formed, and all run through it in single file, and are caught in turn by being imprisoned between the lowered arms. Also, we find the circle-dancing following the arch ceremony. In my account of [this game] (vol. i. pp. 341-50), I have drawn attention to the incident of a prisoner being taken as indicative of the widespread custom known as the foundation sacrifice, because of the suggested difficulty of getting the bridge to stand when the prisoner is taken. I have given a few instances of the custom, and the tradition that the stones of London Bridge were bespattered with the blood of little children, and that the mortar was tempered with the blood of beasts. In stories where a victim is offered as a foundation-sacrifice, the victim, often a prisoner, is sometimes forced to enter a hole or cavity left on purpose in the building, which is then walled or built up, enclosing the victim. In some, recourse to lottery is had; in others, as at Siam, mentioned by Tylor (Primitive Culture, i. 97), it was customary, when a new city gate was being erected, 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. After these customs of human sacrifice had ceased to be enforced, animals were slaughtered instead; and later still the ceremony would be performed, as a ceremony, by the incident being gone through, the person or animal seized upon being allowed to escape the extreme penalty by paying a money or other forfeit; and it may be this later stage which is represented in the game. The dancing in circle form, which belongs, I think, to the original method of play, shows us a ceremony in which people of one place are concerned, and would supersede an older line form of game, if there were one, when the custom showed a real victim being taken from outsiders by force, who would resist the demand. The circle dance would follow as the completion of the ceremony. The “line” form would also be the first portion of the game to disappear when once its meaning was lost.

The game, “[Hark! the Robbers]” (i. 192-99) may be a portion of “[London Bridge]” made into a separate game by the part of the building being lost, or the children who play both games may have mixed up the method of playing; but as it ends in some places with a contest and in some with a dance, it is difficult to say which is right.

“[Thread the Needle],” played by all players running through an arch and then dancing round, is a game well illustrated by customs obtaining on Shrove Tuesday in different parts of the country. All the children play “[Thread the Needle]” in the streets of Trowbridge, Bradford-on-Avon, South Petherton, Evesham, besides other places, in long lines, whooping and shouting as they run through the arches they make. After this they proceed to the churchyard, and encompassing the church by joining hands, dance all round it three times, and then return to their homes. Here is the undoubted performance of what must have been an old custom, performed at one time by all the people of the town, being continued as an amusement of children. It was played at Evesham only on Easter Monday, and in three other places only on Shrove Tuesday, and another correspondent says played only on a special day. In other places where it is played the game is not connected with a special day or season. The circle dance does not always occur, and in some cases the children merely run under each other’s clasped hands while singing the words. In the places above mentioned we see it as a game, but still connected with custom. It is a pity that the words used by the children on all these occasions should not have been recorded too. “[How many Miles to Babylon]” (vol. i. pp. 231-238) may with good reason be considered a game of the same kind. It represents apparently a gateway of a town, and a parley occurs between the gatekeepers and those wishing to enter or leave the town. Small gateways or entrances to fortified towns were called needle’s eyes, which were difficult to enter. But notwithstanding these apparent identifications with the conditions of a fortified town, I think the practice of going through the arch in this and in the previous game relates to the custom which prevailed at festivals held during certain seasons of the year, when people crept through holed stones or other orifices to propitiate a presiding deity, in order to obtain some particular favour. This would be done by a number of people on the same occasion, and would terminate by a dance round the church or other spot associated with sacred or religious character. “[Long Duck]” is another probably almost forgotten version of this game.

“[Draw a Pail of Water]” (vol. i. pp. 100-108), though not quite in accord with the arch form in its present state, is certainly one of the same group. This game I consider to be a descendant of the custom of “well worship.” In its present form it is generally played by children creeping under the arms of two or four others, who clasp hands and sway backwards and forwards with the other children enclosed in them. The swaying movement represents, I believe, the drawing of water from the well. The incidents of the game are:—

(1) Drawing water from a well.
(2) For a devotee at a well.
(3) Collecting flowers for dressing the well.
(4) Making a cake for presentation.
(5) Gifts to the well (6) Command of silence.
(7) The presence of devotee at the sacred bush.
(8) The reverential attitude (indicated by the bowing and falling on the ground).

I can now add another incident, that of the devotee creeping through a sacred bush or tree (signified by the creeping under or getting enclosed within the arms of the leaders). These are all incidents of primitive well worship.

I have from many different versions pieced together the lines as they might appear in [earlier versions] (i. p. 107).

This restoration, though it is far from complete, shows clearly enough that the incidents belong to a ceremonial of primitive well worship. Dressing holy wells with garlands and flowers is very general; cakes were eaten at Rorrington Well, Shropshire, and offerings of pins, buttons, and portions of the dress, as well as small articles worn on the person, are very general; silence is enforced in many instances, and sacred trees and bushes are to be found at nearly all holy wells. Offerings are sometimes hung in the bushes and trees, sometimes thrown into the well. Miss Burne records in Shropshire Folk-Lore (pp. 414, 433, 434) that at Rorrington Green, in the parish of Chirbury, is a holy well, at which a wake was celebrated on Ascension Day. The well was adorned with green bowers, rushes, and flowers, and a maypole was set up. The people used to walk round the hill with fife, drum, and fiddle, dancing and frolicking as they went. They threw pins into the well for good luck, and to prevent them from being bewitched, and they also drank the water. Cakes were eaten. These were round flat buns, from three to four inches across, sweetened, spiced, and marked with a cross, and were supposed to bring good luck if kept.

Instances of similar practices at holy wells could be multiplied, and they are exhaustively examined in my husband’s book on Ethnology in Folk-Lore. Halliwell records in his nursery rhymes what is perhaps the oldest printed version of the rhyme. He says the children form a long string, hand in hand; one stands in front as leader, two hold up their clasped hands to form an arch, and the children pass under; the last is taken prisoner. Though this way of playing does not appear to be used now—no version, at least, has reached me—it is clear that the game might be played in this way, probably as a commencement of the ceremonial, and then the other positions might follow. Halliwell may not have recorded it minutely or have heard of it as a whole, or the version sent him may have been in degenerate form. It is, however, clear that the arch form here indicates a ceremonial, and not the taking of a prisoner.

“[Oranges and Lemons]” (vol. ii. pp. 25-35) is the best-known game of the arch form, followed by the contest or tug-of-war. In this game two players, sometimes chosen by lot, clasp hands and form an arch. They have each a name, which is secret. One is called “Orange,” the other is “Lemon.” They sing the words of the game-rhyme, and the other players run under the arch in a long line or string. At the close of the verses which ends with the line, “Here comes a chopper to chop off your head,” one of the string of players is caught and is asked which she prefers, orange or lemon. She chooses, and is told to stand behind that leader who took that name. This is repeated until all the players have been separately caught, have chosen their side, and are standing behind the respective leaders, holding on to each other by clasping each other’s waists. A line is then drawn on the ground, and both sides pull; each endeavours to drag the other over the line. The tug is generally continued until one side falls to the ground. Now this is an undoubted contest, but I do not think the contest is quite of the same kind as the line game of contest and fighting. The line form is one of invaders and invaded, and the fight is for territory. In this form it seems to me that the contest is more of a social contest, that is, between people of the same place, perhaps between parishes and wards of parishes, or burghers and apprentices (townspeople) on one side, and the followers of lords or barons (military power) on the other, or of two lords and barons. The leaders are chosen by lot. Each leader has a “cry” or “colour,” which he calls out, and the other players run and place themselves under the banner they choose.

In my account of this game I draw particular attention to the following details:—The game indicates contest and a punishment, and although the sequence is not clear, as the execution precedes the contest, that is not of particular importance in view of the power of the old baronial lords to threaten and execute those of their following who did not join their armed retainers when required. All rhymes of this game deal with saints’ names and with bell ringing. Now, the only places where it would be probable for bells to be associated with different saints’ names in one area would be the old parish units of cities and boroughs. The bells were rung on all occasions when it was necessary to call the people together. The “alarm” bell tolling quickly filled the open spaces and market-places of the towns, and it is a well-known fact that serious contests and contest games between parishes and wards of parishes were frequent. The names “oranges” and “lemons,” given to the leaders in the game, usually considered to be the fruits of these names, are, in my opinion, the names of the “colours” of the two rival factions.

The passing under the arch in this game is not absolutely necessary in order that the players may exercise their choice of leaders, nor is the “secrecy” which is observed necessary either. Even this may have its origin in custom. It may signify the compulsory attendance of a vassal under pain of punishment to serve one side, or the taking prisoner and condemning to death for serving on the opponents’ or losing side. An idea is current that it represents cutting off the last person’s head, the last of the string or line of players, and in some places the last one in the line is always caught instead of one whom the leaders choose to enclose in their arms. Of course a “laggard” or late arrival would be liable to suspicion and punishment, and this idea may be suggested in the game; but I do not think that the game originates from the idea of catching a “last” player. The passing under the arch can also be attributed to the custom of compelling prisoners to pass under a yoke to signify servitude, and the threat of execution would follow attempt to escape or disobedience. Again, prisoners were offered life and freedom on condition of joining the army of their opponents.

The other games of this method of play, “[Three Days’ Holiday],” and “[Tug of War],” are the same game under other names, with only a nominy surviving, and the method of play. Several games entered under the title of “[Through the Needle Eye],” are really the “arch” type with the “tug,” that is the “[Oranges and Lemons]” game, instead of belonging to the “[Thread the Needle]” or first form of arch type, as they are usually considered. The Scottish form, described by Jamieson (ii. p. 290), is an exception which should have been included with “[Thread the Needle],” to which group it belongs. The other games, “[Through the Needle Eye],” have lost a portion of their play, which probably accounts for the mixture of name with the “[Thread the Needle]” games, because of both containing the arch form. “[Namers and Guessers],” “[Fool, Fool, come to School],” “[Little Dog, I call you],” practically versions of one and the same game, which I have classed in this type because of the “tug,” have an additional element of guessing in them. The leader or namer on one side and the guesser on the other take sides. All the players have names given them, and it is the first business of the guesser to guess which of the players has taken a particular name. If he guesses correctly, he takes that player on his side; if incorrectly, he stays on the namer’s side. After he has “guessed” at all the players, the “tug” follows, and the beaten side has further to run the gauntlet between two lines of the successful side. This game, having all its players chosen by guessing, by what might have been originally choosing by “lot” or by magical powers, may have an entirely different meaning, but it is clearly a contest game, although there is no indication as to the why or wherefore. The punishment of “running the gauntlet” is found in the game, which again indicates military fighting.

This group of games, though small, is perhaps one of the most indicative of early custom, for beyond the custom which is enshrined in each game—foundation sacrifice, well worship, &c.—it will be noticed there is a common custom belonging to all the games of this group; this is the procession under the arch. The fact that this common custom can also be referred to primitive usage, confirms my view that the particular customs in each game owe their origin to primitive usage. Mr. W. Crooke has very kindly supplied me with some notes on this interesting subject, and I gladly avail myself of his research:—

“In Cairo, women walk under the stone on which criminals are decapitated, in the hope of curing ophthalmia and getting children. They must go in silence, and left foot foremost.”—Lane, Modern Egyptians, i. p. 325; Hartland, Perseus, i. p. 163.

“Rheumatism and lumbago cured by crawling under granitic masses in Cornwall.”—Hunt, Popular Romances, p. 177.

“Passing children under bramble to cure rupture.”—Ibid., pp. 412, 415.

“This cures chincough.”—Aubrey, Remains, p. 187.

“In Scotland, sick children are passed through the great stones of Odin at Stennis, and through a perforated monolith at Burkham, in Yorkshire.”—Rogers, Social Life in Scotland, i. p. 13.

“Barren women pass their hands through the holes of the Bore Stone at Gask in order to obtain children.”—Ibid., iii. p. 227.

“Similar rites prevail in Cyprus.”—Hogarth, Devia Cypria, p. 48; Gardner, New Chapters in Greek History, p. 172.

“This again gives rise to the use of the gateway through which pilgrims pass to temples. Such are the Indian Torana, in this shape, which are represented by the Torio, so common in Japan.

“The Greeks had the same, which they called Dokana (δὁκανα, from δοκὁϛ, ‘a beam’). With them they represented the Dioscuri—Castor and Pollux. They are described by Plutarch.”—De Amor. Fratr., i. p. 36.

“Similar arches, covered with charms, were seen at Dahomi by Burton.”—Mission to Gelele, i. pp. 218, 286.

“Women in England creep under a gallows to get children.” (I have mislaid the reference.)

“There are many ‘creeps’ or narrow holes in Irish dolmens certainly used by people, who had to creep in to worship the ghost or bring offerings. Captives intended to be slaughtered had to creep through such places.”—Borlase, Dolmens of Ireland, ii. p. 554.

“Barren women pass their hands through such holes.”—Ibid., ii. p. 650.

“A good picture of such a stone from France.”—Ibid., ii. pp. 626, 700, 702, 707.

Mr. Albany F. Major has also kindly drawn my attention to the following interesting passages from the sagas, which Dr. Jon Stefansson has kindly translated as follows:—

“In old times this had been the custom of brave men, who made an agreement (pact) that the one who lived the longest should revenge the other’s death. They were to go under three earth-sods, and that was their oath (eiðr). This ceremony (leikr) of theirs was in this wise, that three long earth-sods (turfs) should be cut loose. All the ends were to be fast in the ground (adhere to it), but the coils (bends) were to be pulled upward, so that a man might go under them. This play Thorgeir and Thormod went through.”—Fóstbrædra Saga, ed. 1822, ch. i. p. 7.

“Now is spread about this report of Thorkell and his men, but Gudmund had before told [the story] somewhat otherwise. Now that tale seemed to those kinsmen of Thorarins somewhat doubtful, and they said they would not put trust in it without proof, and they claimed for themselves [to share] half the property with Thorkell, but Thorkell thought to own it himself alone, and bade go to ordeal after their custom. This was then the [form of] ordeal at that time, that they should go under an earth-belt, that is, a sod [which] was ripped up from the field. The ends of the sod must be fast in the field, but the man who was to perform the ordeal must go thereunder. Thorkell of the Scarf somewhat suspects whether the death of those men can have happened in the way that Gudmund and his men had said the latter time. Now, heathen men thought that they had no less at stake, when they had to play such a part, than Christian men think nowadays when ordeals are held. Then the man who went under the earth-belt was clear if the sod fell not on him. Thorkell took counsel with two men that they should let themselves fall out about something or other, and be there standing near at hand when the ordeal was being performed, and should touch the sod so hard that all might see that they brought it down. After this the man who was to perform the ordeal starts, and as soon as he was come under the earth-belt those men who were set to do it sprang to meet each other under arms, and they encounter near the bend of the sod and lie fallen there, and the earth-belt fell down, as was to be expected. At once men spring between them and separate them; that was easy, because they were fighting with no risk to life. Thorkell of the Scarf asked what people thought of the ordeal; now all his men say that it would have done well if no one had spoilt it. Then Thorkell took all the loose property, but the land is joined on to Hrappstead.”—Laxdæla Saga, ch. xviii.

“Berg gave notice of the blow for the Hunawaterthing and began the lawsuit there. As soon as men came to the thing they tried to arrange a settlement. Berg said that he would not take payment in atonement, and would only be reconciled under these terms, that Jokull should go under three earth-belts, as was then the custom after great transgressions, ‘and thus show humility towards me.’ Jokull said the trolls should take him before he thus bowed himself. Thorstein said it was a matter for consideration, ‘and I will go under the earth-belts.’ Berg said then would the matter be paid for. The first earth-belt reached to the shoulder, the next to the waist-belt, the third to mid-thigh. Then Thorstein went under the first. Then said Berg: ‘Now I make thee stoop like a swine, who wast the loftiest of the Vatnsdale men.’ Thorstein answers, ‘That hadst thou no need to say, but this will be the first return for those words, that I will not go under any more.’ Finnbogi said, ‘That is clearly not well said, but then not much comes in repayment for Berg’s wrong, that he gat from Jokull, if the matter shall here come to a standstill, and everything seems to you lowly by the side of you Vatnsdale men, and I will challenge thee, Thorstein, to holm-gang a week hence by the stackyard which stands on the island down before my farm at Borg.’”—Vatnsdæla Saga, ch. xxxiii.

These significant customs, I think, bear out my theory as to the origin of the games played in the two methods of the arch form.

Lastly, I come to the “winding up” games. “[Eller Tree]” (i. p. 119) and “[Wind up the Bush Faggot]” (ii. pp. 384-387), show a game in which a tree or bush is represented, and is probably indicative of tree worship. The tallest player represents the tree, and all the other players walk round and round in line form, getting closer and closer each time, until all are wound round the centre player. They call out when winding round “The old tree gets thicker and thicker,” and then jump all together, calling out “A bunch of rags,” and try and tread on each other’s toes. This last action is evidently performed from not understanding the action of stamping, which is, without doubt, the object of the players. It is probable that this game descends from the custom of encircling the tree (Mr. Addy suggests the alder-tree) as an act of worship, and the allusion to the “rags” bears at least a curious relationship to hanging rags on sacred trees. A ceremonial of this kind would probably take place each spring, and the stamping on the ground would be, as in “[Oats and Beans and Barley],” a part of the ceremony to awake and arouse the earth spirit to the necessity of his care for the trees under his charge. The connection of all the players, by means of the clasped hands, with the central figure or tree, may also be considered a means of communicating life and action to it; the tree requiring contact with living and moving creatures to enable it to put forth its leaves. In a version of this game from Lincoln, called the “[Old Oak Tree]” (ii. p. 386), we find practically the same words and same actions, the dancing round and jumping up and down are constant features of this game. It remains in some degenerate versions from Scotland ([ibid.]), where the game has assumed the modern name of “[Rolling Tobacco].” In “[Wind up the Bush Faggot]” we have again the tree or bush suggested, and the dancing and jumping, or stamping up and down. In Shropshire it is the closing game of any playtime, and was played before “breaking-up” at a boys’ school in Shrewsbury in 1850-1856. This tends to show that the game had originally been played at a special time or season.

For an example of this custom I may repeat (from [ii. p. 386]) that in mid-Cornwall, in the second week in June, at St. Roche and one or two adjacent parishes, a curious dance, like a serpent’s coil, is performed at the annual “feasts.” The young people are assembled in a meadow, and the band plays a lively tune. The band leads, and all the people follow hand in hand. The band or head keeps marching in an ever-narrowing circle, while its train of dancing followers becomes coiled round it in circle after circle. Then the band, taking a sharp turn about, begins to retrace the circle, still followed as before, and a number of young men, with long leafy branches in their hands as standards, direct this counter-movement. Although there is no mention of a tree in the account round which this ceremony is performed, the custom is so striking as to leave very little doubt of their connection. Lady Wilde (Ancient Cures, Charms, and Usages of Ireland, p. 106) says, “On May-Day in Ireland all the young men and maidens hold hands, and dance in a circle round a tree hung with ribbons or garlands, or round a bonfire, moving in curves from left to right, as if imitating the windings of a serpent.” This is a closer parallel to the game still, and leaves no doubt as to its connection with custom. There may be, too, some connection between these winding-up or serpentine dances and the Maypole dances on May-Day in England.

The detail into which I have gone in the case of these games makes it, I think, unnecessary that I should enter into equal detail in other customs mentioned in the classification. Thus, with regard to the funeral customs indicated in “[Jenny Jones],” we have not only a ceremony of burial, but the courting of a maiden or maidens by a band of suitors, the opposition of the mother or guardians to their suit, the putting forward of domestic occupations as pretexts for refusal; there is also the illness, dying and death of the maiden, the manner of her funeral indicated by the colour selected for her burial, followed by the burial itself, the singing of the lament or funeral dirge, and, in some versions, the rising of the ghost or spirit of the departed. This game in its best versions is played in line form. But in those versions where two children only play the parts of “mother” and “Jenny Jones,” there is also evidence of the tendency of the game to develop into the individual form.

Again, those games in which “guessing” occurs remind us of the important part that guessing or chance plays in the beliefs of the savage and uncivilised. A person who, by a guess, discovers a special person out of a number, or the exact number of articles concealed in a hand or under a foot, has something of the supernatural or witch-element about him. This is largely the foundation of the belief in witchcraft and the sorcerer. It is not surprising to find, therefore, the guessing-element largely extant in the dramatic game. The “guesser” is usually chosen by lot by means of the counting-out rhyme; the leader then proceeds to confuse the guesser’s or witch’s mind by re-naming secretly the rest of the players. He calls the “guesser,” and in a doggerel rhyme (the remains or imitation probably of an incantation), tells him to pick out or name a certain person or thing. If the guess is correct, the “guesser” takes that person to his side, indicating power over that individual or thing. If the “guesser” is unsuccessful, he is scouted, mocked, and ill-used.

I now proceed with the second classification referred to on [p. 461]. Of the games classified on [pp. 461-470], ante, it will be found on examination that nearly all of them are dramatic in form. This leads me at once to suggest that so important a phase of their character needs separate investigation, and this I proceed to do.

In the first place, it will be found that certain of the games are wholly dramatic whatever may be the customs or rites they imitate. These games are of two classes—first, where dramatic action is complete throughout the whole game, that is where singing, action, and words are represented; secondly, where singing has dropped out, action and words only remaining.

These two classes are as follows:—