Blow the winds, heigh-ho!
And clear away the morning kisses,
Blow the winds, heigh-ho!” etc.
The ring of the latter is fresh and pleasant; the former have no ring at all. The first articles are manufactured in a garret by a publisher’s poetaster, the latter have sprung spontaneously from the hearts of the people in the merry month of May.
Of black-letter printed ballads, the earliest we have are, “The Nut-brown Maid,” which was discovered in a book of customs, dues, etc., published at Antwerp, about 1502, and “The Ballade of the Scottish King,” written by John Skelton, poet laureate to King Henry VIII., and of the date 1513. This was found within the binding of an old book that was knocking about on the floor of a garret in a farmhouse at Whaddon, in Dorset. Mr. Arber’s Transcripts of the entries in Stationers’ Hall give us the list of ballads issued from the press, with their dates.
The list begins in the year 1557. We will take a few extracts only.
1588, 4th March. John Wolfe obtained leave to print three ballads; one was, “Goe from my window, goe.” Now this no longer exists as a ballad, but as a folk-tale, in which occur snatches of rhyme, with a certain melody attached to them; and this air, with the snatches of rhyme, has been preserved. Both are printed by Mr. Chappell in his “Popular Music of the Olden Time.” What the subject of the ballad was the writer learned from a blacksmith, who told him that he was in a village inn about 1860, when a very old man came in, and standing by the fire, recited and sang the following story:—
“Two men courted a pretty maid; the one was rich, the other was poor; and the rich man was old, but the poor man she loved; he was young. Her father forced her to marry the rich man, but still she loved the poor man; and sometimes he came under her window and tapped, and when the husband was away she let him in.
“So passed a twelvemonth and a day, and she had a little child.
“Then one night the lover came under the window, thinking her goodman was from home. With his tapping the husband woke, and asked what the sound was. She said an ivy leaf was caught in a cobweb, and fluttered against the pane. Then the lover began to call, and her husband asked what that sound was. She said the owls were hooting in the night. But fearing lest her lover should continue to call and tap, she began to sing, as she rocked the cradle:—