The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 2 (of 3) / or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac

by William Hone

August 23.

Chronology.

August 23, 1305, sir William Wallace, “the peerless knight of Elleslie,” who bravely defended Scotland against Edward I. was executed by order of that monarch on Tower-hill. This distinguished individual is popular in England five hundred years after his death, through the well-known ballad

“Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,” &c.

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The Season.

Swallows are now preparing for their departure. On this day, in 1826, the editor observed hundreds of them collecting so high in the air that they seemed of the size of flies; they remained wheeling about and increasing in number upwards of an hour before dusk, when they all took their flight in a south-western direction.

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Cheldonizing, or Swallow Singing.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book

Sir,—The recent, and it is hoped still continued subscriptions in aid of suffering humanity, induce an observation, that to the very remote origin of collecting general alms, may be traced most of the mummeries practised in Christendom in the gothic centuries, and in the English counties, even till within our own memory. Among the Rhodians one method of soliciting eleemosynary gifts, called cheldonizing, or swallow-singing, is corroboratory of the assertion. This benevolence, or voluntary contribution, was instituted by Cleobulus of Lindos, at a time when public necessity drove the Lindians to the expedient of soliciting a general subscription. Theognis speaks of cheldonizing as taking place among the sacred rites practised at Rhodes in the month Boëdromion, or August, and deriving its name from the customary song:—

The swallow, the swallow is here,
With his back so black, and his belly so white;
He brings on the pride of the year,
With the gay months of love and the days of delight.

Come, bring out the good humming stuff,
Of your nice tit-bits let the swallow partake,
Of good bread and cheese give enough,
And a slice of your right Boëdromion cake.

Our hunger, our hunger it twinges,
So give my good masters, I pray;
Or we’ll pull off your door from its hinges,
And, ecod! we’ll steal young madam away.

She’s a nice little pocket-piece darling,
And faith ’twill be easy to carry her hence;
Away with old prudence so snarling,
And toss us down freely a handful of pence.

Come, let us partake of your cheer,
And loosen your purse strings so hearty;
No crafty old grey beards are here,
And see we’re a merry boy’s party,
And the swallow, the swallow is here!

Plutarch refers to another Rhodian custom, which is particularly mentioned by Phœnix of Colophon, a writer of iambics, who describes the practice being that of certain men going about to collect donations for the crow, and singing or saying—

My good, worthy masters, a pittance bestow,
Some oatmeal, or barley, or wheat, for the crow;
A loaf or a penny, or e’en what you will,
As fortune your pockets may happen to fill.

From the poor man a grain of his salt may suffice,
For your crow swallows all, and is not very nice;
And the man who can now give his grain and no more,
May another day give from a plentiful store.

Come, my lad, to the door, Plutus nods to our wish,
And our sweet little mistress comes out with a dish;
She gives us her figs, and she gives us a smile,
Heaven bless her, and guard her from sorrow and guile;

And send her a husband of noble degree,
And a boy to be danc’d on his grand-daddy’s knee;
And a girl like herself to rejoice her good mother,
Who may one day present her with just such another.

God bless your dear hearts all a thousand times o’er!
Thus we carry our singing to door after door;
Alternately chanting, we ramble along,
And treat all who give, or give not, a song.

The song thus concludes—

My good, worthy masters, a pittance bestow,
Your bounty, my good, worthy mistresses throw;
Remember the crow, he is not very nice,
Do but give as you can, and the gift will suffice.

Pamphilius of Alexandria, in his chapter on names, says these men making collections for the crow, were called coronistæ, or crow-mummers; and their songs were named coronismata, as Hagnooles, the Rhodian, relates in his work, entitled “Coronistæ.”

I am, &c.
J. H. B.

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