What did the robber do to you?
My fair lady!
He broke my watch and stole my keys,
My fair lady!
Then off to prison he must go,
My fair lady!
—Savannah, Ga.
E.—Our last version is from the convent-school of Savannah, and, although recited by a girl of American birth, is of Irish origin:
London Bridge is falling down, etc.
My fair lady!
How shall we build it up again?—
Build it up with lime and stone.—
Stone and lime would wash away.—
Build it up with iron bars.—
Iron bars would bend and break.—
Build it up with gold and silver.—
Gold and silver would be stole away.—
Get a watch to watch all night.—
Suppose the watch should fall asleep?—
Get him a pipe to smoke all night.—
Suppose the pipe should fall and break?—
Get a dog to bark all night.—
Suppose the dog should get a bone?—
Get a cock to crow all night.—
Suppose the cock should fly away?—
What has this poor prisoner done?—
He's broke my box and stole my keys.—
A hundred pounds will set him free.—
A hundred pounds he has not got.—
Off to prison he must go,
My fair lady![131]
As to the origin of this remarkable game, our citations have already made clear that one of its features consists in a representation of the antagonism of celestial and infernal powers, and the final decision by which each soul is assigned a place on the one side or the other. It was universally believed in the Middle Ages, that the soul, separated from the body, had to cross a dangerous bridge, and subsequently undergo a literal weighing in the balance, according to the result of which its destiny was decided. It is in the nature of things that children, conversant with these ideas, should have dramatized them in their sports. We see no reason, with the German writers, to go back to ancient Northern mythology; nor do we find any ground for believing that our game is more likely to be of Teutonic than Romance descent.
We suspect, however, that that part of the sport which relates to the warfare of good and evil powers does not belong to the original idea, but that a still more primitive game has taken on an ending which was common to many amusements in the Middle Ages. The central point of the whole is the repeated downfall of the structure. Now there is a distinct mythologic reason for such a representation. In early times no edifice was so important as a bridge, which renders intercourse possible between districts heretofore separated. Hence the sanctity attributed in mediæval times to the architects of bridges. The Devil, or (in more ancient guise) the elemental spirit of the land, who detests any interference with the solitude he loves, has an especial antipathy to bridges. His repeated and successful attempts to interfere with such a structure, until he is bought off with an offering like that of Iphigenia, are recorded in legends which attach to numerous bridges in Europe. It is on such supernatural opposition that the English form of the game appears to turn. The structure, which is erected in the daytime, is ruined at night; every form of material—wood, stone, and gold—is tried in vain; the vigilance of the watchman, or of the cock and the dog—guardian animals of the darkness—is insufficient to protect the edifice from the attack of the offended spirits.
The child arrested seems to be originally regarded as the price paid for allowing the structure to stand. In times when all men's thoughts were concerned about the final judgment, a different turn was given to the sport—namely, whether the prisoner should belong to the devils or to the angels, who wage perpetual warfare, and dispute with each other the possession of departed souls. Finally, in quite recent days, religious allusions were excluded, and the captive, now accused of mere theft, was sentenced to be locked up, not in the Inferno, but in a commonplace jail.