I Love-Games
—Many a faire tourning,
Upon the grene gras springyng.
The Romaunt of the Rose.
No. 1 Knights of Spain
This ancient and interesting, now nearly forgotten, game was in the last generation a universal favorite in the United States, imported, no doubt, by the early settlers of the country; and was equally familiar, in numerous variations, through England and Scotland. It is not, however, the exclusive property of English-speaking peoples, but current under a score of forms throughout Europe—from Latin France, Italy, and Spain, to Scandinavian Iceland, from the Finns of the Baltic coast to the Slavs of Moravia. Its theme is courtship; but courtship considered according to ancient ideas, as a mercantile negotiation. To “buy” a bride was the old Norse expression for marriage, and in a similar sense is to be understood the word “sold” in our rhyme. The frankly mercenary character of the original transaction ceasing to be considered natural, it was turned into a jest or satire in Sweden and Scotland. The present song assumed all the grace and courtesy characteristic of the mediæval English ballad, while a primitive form survived in Iceland; and a later outgrowth (our No. 3) represented the whole affair as one of coquetry instead of bargaining, substituting, for the head of the house or the mother, the bride herself as the negotiator.
Our first version shows the form of the game as played in New York in the early part of the century.
On a sofa, or row of chairs, a mother, with her daughters on either side, seated. Advance three suitors.
“Here come three lords out of Spain,
A-courting of your daughter Jane.”
“My daughter Jane is yet too young,
To be ruled by your flattering tongue.”
“Be she young, or be she old,
’Tis for the price she may be sold.
“So fare you well, my lady gay,
We must turn another way.”
“Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,
And scour your boots and spurs so bright.”
“My boots and spurs they cost you nought,
For in this land they were not bought.
“Nor in this land will they be sold,
Either for silver or for gold.
“So fare you well, my lady gay,
We must turn another way.”
“Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,
And choose the fairest in your sight.”
“I’ll not take one nor two nor three,
But pray, Miss [Lucy], walk with me.”
The Spanish knight takes the girl named by the hand, and marches off with her. Walking round the room, he returns, saying,
“Here comes your daughter safe and sound,
In her pocket a thousand pound,
“On her finger a gay gold ring—
I bring your daughter home again.”
In Philadelphia the game had a peculiar ending, which, however, as we shall see, preserved, though in a corrupt form, an ancient trait:
“Here comes your daughter safe and sound,
In her pocket a thousand pound,
“On her finger a gay gold ring:
Will you take your daughter in?”
“No!”
The girl then runs away, the mother pursuing her. The Spanish knight catches her, and brings her back, saying,
“Here comes your daughter safe and sound,
In her pocket no thousand pound,
On her finger no gay gold ring,
Will you take your daughter in?”
“Yes!”
The daughter then once more flies, and the Spanish knight has to catch her.
The following is a New England version:
“We are three brethren from Spain,
Come to court your daughter Jane.”
“My daughter Jane is yet too young
To be courted by your flattering tongue.”
“Be she young, or be she old,
It is for gold she must be sold.
Then fare ye well, my lady gay,
I must return another day.”
“Come back, come back, you Spanish knight,
Your boots and spurs shine very bright.”
“My boots and spurs they count you nought,
For in this town they were not bought.”
“Come back, come back, you Spanish knight,
And choose the fairest in your sight.”
“This is too black, and that is too brown,
And this is the fairest in the town.”
The only part of the country, so far as we know, in which the game now survives is the neighborhood of Cincinnati, where it is still played in a reduced but original form:
“Here comes a knight, a knight of Spain,
To court your daughter, lady Jane.”
“My lady Jane, she is too young,
To be controlled by flattering tongue.”
“Be she young or be she old,
Her beauty’s fair, she must be sold.”
“Go back, go back, you Spanish man,
And choose the fairest in the land.”
“The fairest one that I can see,
Is [Annie Hobart] to walk with me.”
The game now proceeds, “Here come two knights,” then with three, four, etc., till all the players are mated.35
It will be proper to add some account of the comparative history of this curious game. The English and Scotch versions, though generally less well preserved, correspond to our American. But we find a more primitive type in Iceland, where it is, or a few years ago was, an amusement of winter evenings, played not by children, but by men and women, in a form which indicates a high antiquity. The women ask the men, as these advance, what they desire? The latter reply, “a maid,” that is, wife. The inquiry now is, what will they give? It is answered, stone. This tender is scornfully refused, and the suitors retire in dudgeon, but return to raise their offer, and at last proffer gold, which is accepted, and the controversy ends in a dance.36
Curiously enough, modern Scotland retains this song in nearly all the rude simplicity of the Icelandic just referred to; though the negotiation, instead of being taken as a matter of course, is turned into a satire, being treated as the endeavor of a rich old bachelor to purchase a wife.
In the stewartry of Kirkendbright, says Chambers, Janet jo is a dramatic entertainment among young rustics on winter evenings. A youth, disguised as an old bachelor, enters the room bonnet in hand, bowing, and declaring that “he has come to court Janet jo.” The goodwife then demands, “What’ll ye gie for Janet jo?” He responds, a “peck of siller,” but is told, “Gae awa’, ye auld carle!” He retires, but soon returns, and increases his offer, which is less scornfully rejected, until he proffers “three pecks of gowd,” which is accepted with the words—
“Come ben beside Janet jo,
Janet jo, Janet jo,
Ye’re welcome to Janet jo,
Janet, my jo.”
The affair then ends in kissing. A comparison of details (such as the diminishing scorn of the bargainer, and chagrin of the suitors at each rejection) leaves no doubt that the Icelandic and Scotch forms of the game were once (but many centuries since) identical.
The German versions are numerous, but corrupt, and less ancient and characteristic. In one of the most spirited the mother assigns as a reason for refusing the suitor, that
Her tresses are not braided,
Her wedding-gown not done.
Similarly, we find in an English fragment,
My mead’s not made, my cake’s not baked,
And you cannot have my daughter Jane.
There is a French form, not otherwise especially interesting, which resembles our No. 3.37
More striking than the preceding, and abounding in singular correspondences with the first three numbers of our own collection, is the Italian version, as played in Venice. In this game, one of the rows is composed of a boy, who represents the head of the house, and five or six girls who stand at his right and left. The other row is formed by the ambassador, whose suite consists of boys and girls. These last advance towards the first row, singing, “The ambassador is come,” then, retreating, sing a chorus, “Olà, olà, olà.” The conversation then proceeds in a rhythmical way between the two rows as follows:
| “What do you wish?” | “A maid.” |
| “Which maid?” | “The fairest.” |
| “Who is the fairest?” | “Nineta bella.” |
| “What husband will you give her?” | “A chimney-sweep.” |
| “That will not do.” | “The king of France.” |
| “That will do well.” | “What dowry will you give her?” |
| “A ducat.” | “It will not do.” |
| “A zechin a day.” | “That will do well.” |
| “Come and take her.” | “Here I come and take her.” |
The “ambassador” advances and takes the girl by the hand; then, as if changing his mind, rejects her, saying as he returns—
| “And now I don’t want her!” | |
| “Why do you not want her?” | “She is too little (or ugly).” |
| “Is that the trouble?” | “Yes, that is the trouble.” |
| “Come, let us make peace.” | “Peace is made.” |
The ambassador then takes by the hand the girl, who is presented to him by the head of the house; the two files unite to form a circle, and the bride receives the general congratulations of the company, who clap their hands, courtesy, and sing,38 as in the pretty English equivalent—
And the bells will ring, and the birds will sing,
And we’ll all clap hands together.
In Spain, the game is known as the “Embassy of the Moorish King.” The “King of the Moors” is seated on the ground, with crossed legs, his attendants about him. The “ambassador” makes three steps forward, and demands one of his daughters. The king replies, “If I have them, I have them not to give away; of the bread which I eat, they shall eat as well.”
The ambassador withdraws angry: “In discontent I go from the king’s palace.” But the king, repenting, calls after him—
“Turn thee, knight, come, turn thee hither,
The most fair I’ll give to thee—
The most lovely and the sweetest,
Sweetest rose upon the tree.”
The ambassador crosses hands with one of his train to make a seat, on which the bride is placed in triumph, singing—
“Thus I take her for her marriage,
Spouse and wedded wife to be.”
The king addresses them on departure—
“Listen, knight, I do entreat thee,
Use to her all courtesy.”
And the ambassadors reply—
“She, on throne of splendor seated,
Shall be shining to behold,
She shall lodge within a palace,
She shall dress in pearls and gold.”
It will thus be seen that the three knights originally represent not suitors, but envoys. If we remember that marriage, in some simple countries, is still conducted through intermediaries, whose duty it is to argue, chaffer, and dispute, before coming to the decision all along intended, we shall see reason to believe that from a form representing more or less literally the usages of primitive society have sprung in the course of time a multitude of confused representations, colored by later tastes and feelings.
The spirit and substance of the courteous and chivalric English rhyme cannot be later than the fourteenth century; the identity and primitive rudeness of the song in Iceland, Scotland (and, we shall presently add, Virginia), supposes an earlier date; while even then we have to bridge the gap between these forms and the Italian. We may, therefore, be tolerably sure that the first diffusion of the game in Europe dates far back into the Middle Age.