Chapter XVIII: Appendix: Robin Hood and the Sheriff (5)

3
Out then came the Jew’s daughter:
‘Will ye come in and dine?’
‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,
Till I get that ball of mine.

4
‘Throw down that ball to me, maiden,
Throw down the ball to me!’
‘I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh,
Till ye come up to me.’

5
She pu’d the apple frae the tree,
It was baith red and green;
She gave it unto little Sir Hugh,
With that his heart did win.

6
She wiled him into ae chamber,
She wiled him into twa,
She wiled him into the third chamber,
And that was warst o’t a’.

7
She took out a little penknife,
Hung low down by her spare,
She twined this young thing o his life,
And a word he neer spak mair.

8
And first came out the thick, thick blood,
And syne came out the thin,
And syne came out the bonnie heart’s blood,
There was nae mair within.

9
She laid him on a dressing-table,
She dressd him like a swine;
Says, Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,
Wi yere apples red and green!

10
She put him in a case of lead,
Says, Lie ye there and sleep!
She threw him into the deep draw-well,
Was fifty fathom deep.

11
A schoolboy walking in the garden
Did grievously hear him moan;
He ran away to the deep draw-well,
And fell down on his knee.

12
Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray you speak to me!
If you speak to any body in this world,
I pray you speak to me.

13
When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And every body went hame,
Then every lady had her son,
But Lady Helen had nane.

14
She rolled her mantle her about,
And sore, sore did she weep;
She ran away to the Jew’s castle,
When all were fast asleep.

15
She cries, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray you speak to me!
If you speak to any body in this world,
I pray you speak to me.

16
‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son,
I’ll tell ye where to seek;
Lady Helen, if ye want your son,
He’s in the well sae deep.’

17
She ran away to the deep draw-well,
And she fell down on her knee,
Saying, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray ye speak to me!
If ye speak to any body in the world,
I pray ye speak to me.

18
‘Oh the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,
The well it is wondrous deep;
The little penknife sticks in my throat,
And I downa to ye speak.

19
‘But lift me out o this deep draw-well,
And bury me in yon churchyard;
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

20
‘Put a Bible at my head,’ he says,
‘And a Testament at my feet,
And pen and ink at every side,
And I’ll lie still and sleep.

21
‘And go to the back of Maitland town,
Bring me my winding sheet;
For it’s at the back of Maitland town
That you and I shall meet.’

22
O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,
The broom that makes full sore,
A woman’s mercy is very little,
But a man’s mercy is more.

F

Hume’s Sir Hugh of Lincoln, p. 35, obtained from recitation in
Ireland.

1
’Twas on a summer’s morning
Some scholars were playing at ball,
When out came the Jew’s daughter
And leand her back against the wall.

2
She said unto the fairest boy,
Come here to me, Sir Hugh;
‘No! I will not,’ said he,
‘Without my playfellows too.’

3
She took an apple out of her pocket,
And trundled it along the plain,
And who was readiest to lift it
Was little Sir Hugh again.

4
She took him by the milk-white han,
An led him through many a hall,
Until they came to one stone chamber,
Where no man might hear his call.

5
She set him in a goolden chair,
And jaggd him with a pin,
And called for a goolden cup
To houl his heart’s blood in.

6
She tuk him by the yellow hair,
An also by the feet,
An she threw him in the deep draw-well;
It was fifty fadom deep.

7
Day bein over, the night came on,
And the scholars all went home;
Then every mother had her son,
But little Sir Hugh’s had none.

8
She put her mantle about her head,
Tuk a little rod in her han,
An she says, Sir Hugh, if I fin you here,
I will bate you for stayin so long.

9
First she went to the Jew’s door,
But they were fast asleep;
An then she went to the deep draw-well,
That was fifty fadom deep.

10
She says, Sir Hugh, if you be here,
As I suppose you be,
If ever the dead or quick arose,
Arise and spake to me.

11
‘Yes, mother dear, I am here,
I know I have staid very long;
But a little penknife was stuck in my heart,
Till the stream ran down full strong.

12
‘And mother dear, when you go home,
Tell my playfellows all
That I lost my life by leaving them,
When playing that game of ball.

13
‘And ere another day is gone,
My winding-sheet prepare,
And bury me in the green churchyard,
Where the flowers are bloomin fair.

14
‘Lay my Bible at my head,
My Testament at my feet;
The earth and worms shall be my bed,
Till Christ and I shall meet.’

G

#a.# Written down by Mrs Dulany, January 14, 1885, from the
recitation of her mother, Mrs Nourse, aged above ninety, as learned
when a child, in Philadelphia. #b.# From the same source, furnished
several years earlier by Miss Perine, of Baltimore.

1
It rains, it rains in old Scotland,
And down the rain does fa,
And all the boys in our town
Are out a playing at ba.

2
‘You toss your balls too high, my boys,
You toss your balls too low;
You’ll toss them into the Jew’s garden,
Wherein you darst not go.’

3
Then out came one of the Jew’s daughters,
All dressed in red and green:
‘Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,
And get your ball again.’

4
‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,
Without my playmates all,
And without the will of my mother dear,
Which would cause my heart’s blood to fall.’

5
She shewed him an apple as green as grass,
She shewed him a gay gold ring,
She shewed him a cherry as red as blood,
Which enticed the little boy in.

6
She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him into the hall,
And laid him on a dresser-board,
And that was the worst of all.

7
She laid the Bible at his head,
The Prayer-Book at his feet,
And with a penknife small
She stuck him like a sheep.

8
Six pretty maids took him by the head,
And six took him by the feet,
And threw him into a deep draw-well,
That was eighteen fathoms deep.

* * * * *

9
‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mother,
The well is wondrous deep,
A keen pen-knife sticks in my heart,
And nae word more can I speak.’

H

Communicated by Miss Perine, of Baltimore, Maryland, as sung by her
mother about 1825.

1
It rains, it rains in fair Scotland,
It rains both great and small
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

2
He tossed the hall so high, so low,
He tossed the ball so low,
He tossed it over the Jew’s garden-wall,
Where no one dared to go.

3
Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,
All dressed in apple-green;
Said she, My dear little boy, come in,
And pick up your ball again.

4
‘I dare not come, I will not come,
I dare not come at all;
For if I should, I know you would
Cause my blood to fall.’

5
She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him thro the kitchen;
And there he saw his own dear maid
A roasting of a chicken.

6
She put him in a little chair,
And pinned him with a pin,
And then she called for a wash-basin,
To spill his life blood in.

7
‘O put the Bible at my head,
And the Testament at my feet,
And when my mother calls for me,
You may tell her I’m gone to sleep.’

I

Sir E. Brydges, Restituta, I, 381, “obtained some years since”
(1814) from the recitation of an aged lady.

1
It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,
It rains both great and small,
And all the children in merry Scotland
Are playing at the ball.

2
They toss the ball so high, so high,
They toss the ball so low,
They toss the ball in the Jew’s garden,
Where the Jews are sitting a row.

3
Then up came one of the Jew’s daughters,
Cloathed all in green:
‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty Sir Hugh,
And fetch thy ball again.’

4
‘I durst not come, I durst not go,
Without my play-fellowes all;
For if my mother should chance to know,
She’d cause my blood to fall.’

* * * * *

5
She laid him upon the dresser-board,
And stuck him like a sheep;
She laid the Bible at his head,
The Testament at his feet,
The Catechise-Book in his own heart’s blood,
With a penknife stuck so deep.

* * * * *

J

#a.# Notes and Queries, First Series, XII, 496, B. H. C., from the
manuscript of an old lacemaker in Northamptonshire. #b.# N. and Q.,
First Series, VIII, 614, B. H. C., from memory, stanzas 1–6.

1
It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,
Both little, great and small,
And all the schoolfellows in merry Scotland
Must needs go play at ball.

2
They tossd the ball so high, so high,
With that it came down so low;
They tossd it over the old Jew’s gates,
And broke the old Jew’s window.

3
The old Jew’s daughter she came out,
Was clothed all in green:
‘Come hither, come hither, you young Sir Hugh,
And fetch your ball again.’

4
‘I dare not come, nor I will not come,
Without my schoolfellows come all;
For I shall be beaten when I go home
For losing of my ball.’

5
She ‘ticed him with an apple so red,
And likewise with a fig;
She threw him over the dresser-board,
And sticked him like a pig.

6
The first came out the thickest of blood,
The second came out so thin,
The third came out the child’s heart-blood,
Where all his life lay in.

7
‘O spare my life! O spare my life!
O spare my life!’ said he;
‘If ever I live to be a young man,
I’ll do as good chare for thee.’

8
‘I’ll do as good chare for thy true love
As ever I did for the king;
I will scour a basin as bright as silver
To let your heart-blood run in.’

9
When eleven o’clock was past and gone,
And all the school-fellows came home,
Every mother had her own child
But young Sir Hugh’s mother had none.

10
She went up Lincoln and down Lincoln,
And all about Lincoln street,
With her small wand in her right hand,
Thinking of her child to meet.

11
She went till she came to the old Jew’s gate,
She knocked with the ring;
Who should be so ready as the old Jew herself
To rise and let her in!

12
‘What news, fair maid? what news, fair maid?
What news have you brought to me?
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

13
‘Have you seen any of my child today,
Or any of the rest of my kin?’
‘No, I’ve seen none of your child today,
Nor none of the rest of your kin.’

K

Notes and Queries, First Series, IX, 320; taken down by S. P. Q.
from the recitation of a nurse-maid in Shropshire about 1810.
Salopian Shreds and Patches, July 21, 1875, in Miss Burne’s
Shropshire Folk-Lore, p. 539.

1
It hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,
It hails, it rains, both great and small,
And all the little children in Merry-Cock land
They have need to play at ball.

2
They tossd the ball so high,
They tossd the ball so low,
Amongst all the Jews’ cattle,
And amongst the Jews below.

3
Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,
Dressed all in green:
‘Come, my sweet Saluter,
And fetch the ball again.’

4
‘I durst not come, I must not come,
Unless all my little playfellows come along;
For if my mother sees me at the gate,
She’ll cause my blood to fall.

5
‘She showd me an apple as green as grass,
She showd me a gay gold ring;
She showd me a cherry as red as blood,
And so she entic’d me in.

6
‘She took me in the parlor,
She took me in the kitchen,
And there I saw my own dear nurse,
A picking of a chicken.

7
‘She laid me down to sleep,
With a Bible at my head and a Testament at my feet;
And if my playfellows come to quere for me,
Tell them I am asleep.’

L

#a.# Communicated in a letter from the Rev. E. Venables, Precentor
of Lincoln, as sung to him by a nurse-maid nearly sixty years ago,
January 24, 1885. A Buckinghamshire version. #b.# A Walk through
Lincoln Minster, by the Rev. E. Venables, p. 41, 1884.

1
It rains, it hails in merry Lincoln,
It rains both great and small,
And all the boys and girls today
Do play at pat the ball.

2
They patted the ball so high, so high,
They patted the ball so low,
They patted it into the Jew’s garden,
Where all the Jews do go.

3
Then out it spake the Jew’s daughter,
As she leant over the wall;
‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty play-fellow,
And I’ll give you your ball.’

4
She tempted him [in] with apple so red,
But that wouldnt tempt him in;
She tempted him in with sugar so sweet,
And so she got him in.

5
Then she put forth her lilly-white hand,
And led him through the hall:
‘This way, this way, my pretty play-fellow,
And you shall have your ball.’

6
She led him on through one chamber,
And so she did through nine,
Until she came to her own chamber,
Where she was wont to dine,
And she laid him on a dressing-board,
And sticket him like a swine.

7
Then out it came the thick, thick blood,
And out it came the thin,
And out it came the bonnie heart’s blood,
There was no more within.

M

F. H. Groome, In Gipsy Tents, 1880, p. 145: “first heard at
Shepherd’s Bush, in 1872, from little Amy North.”

1
Down in merry, merry Scotland
It rained both hard and small;
Two little boys went out one day,
All for to play with a ball.

2
They tossed it up so very, very high,
They tossed it down so low;
They tossed it into the Jew’s garden,
Where the flowers all do blow.

3
Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,
Dressëd in green all:
‘If you come here, my fair pretty lad,
You shall have your ball.’

4
She showed him an apple as green as grass;
The next thing was a fig;
The next thing a cherry as red as blood,
And that would ‘tice him in.

5
She set him on a golden chair,
And gave him sugar sweet;
Laid him on some golden chest of drawers,
Stabbed him like a sheep.

6
‘Seven foot Bible
At my head and my feet;
If my mother pass by me,
Pray tell her I’m asleep.’

N

Newell’s Games and Songs of American Children, p. 75, as sung by a
little girl in New York: derived, through her mother, from a
grandmother born in Ireland.

1
It was on a May, on a midsummer’s day,
When it rained, it did rain small;
And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows all
Went out to play the ball.

2
He knocked it up, and he knocked it down,
He knocked it oer and oer;
The very first kick little Harry gave the ball,
He broke the duke’s windows all.

3
She came down, the youngest duke’s daughter,
She was dressed in green:
‘Come back, come back, my pretty little boy,
And play the ball again.’

4
‘I wont come back, and I daren’t come back,
Without my playfellows all;
And if my mother she should come in,
She’d make it the bloody ball.’

5
She took an apple out of her pocket,
And rolled it along the plain;
Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple,
And sorely rued the day.

6
She takes him by the lily-white hand,
And leads him from hall to hall,
Until she came to a little dark room,
That no one could hear him call.

7
She sat herself on a golden chair,
Him on another close by,
And there’s where she pulled out her little penknife,
That was both sharp and fine.

8
Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul,
For his days were at an end;
She stuck her penknife in little Harry’s heart,
And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.

9
She rolled him in a quire of tin,
That was in so many a fold;
She rolled him from that to a little draw-well,
That was fifty fathoms deep.

10
‘Lie there, lie there, little Harry,’ she cried,
‘And God forbid you to swim,
If you be a disgrace to me,
Or to any of my friends.’

11
The day passed by, and the night came on,
And every scholar was home,
And every mother had her own child,
But poor Harry’s mother had none.

12
She walked up and down the street,
With a little sally rod in her hand,
And God directed her to the little draw-well,
That was fifty fathoms deep.

13
‘If you be there, little Harry,’ she said,
‘And God forbid you to be,
Speak one word to your own dear mother,
That is looking all over for thee.’

14
‘This I am, dear mother,’ he cried,
‘And lying in great pain,
With a little penknife lying close to my heart,
And the duke’s daughter she has me slain.

15
‘Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all,
And tell them to be at the church,
And make my grave both large and deep,
And my coffin of hazel and green birch.

16
‘Put my Bible at my head,
My busker (?) at my feet,
My little prayer-book at my right side,
And sound will be my sleep.’

O

G. A. Sala, Illustrated London News, October 21, 1882, LXXXI, 415,
repeated in Living London, 1883, p. 465: heard from a nurse in
childhood.

1
It rains, it rains, in merry Scotland,
It rains both great and small,
And all the children in merry Scotland
Must needs play at ball.

2
They toss the ball so high,
And they toss the ball so low;
They toss it into the Jew’s garden,
Where the Jews sate all of a row.

3
. . . . . . .
A-dressëd all in green:
‘Come in, come in, my pretty lad,
And you shall have your ball again.’

4
‘They set me in a chair of state,
And gave me sugar sweet;
They laid me on a dresser-board,
And stuck me like a sheep.

5
‘Oh lay a Bible at my head,
And a Prayer-Book at my feet!
In the well that they did throw me in,
Full five-and-fifty feet deep.’

P

Halliwell, Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln, p. 37,
Halliwell’s Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 192, ed. 1849:
communicated by Miss Agnes Strickland, from oral tradition at
Godalming, Surrey.

1
He tossed the ball so high, so high,
He tossed the ball so low,
He tossed the ball in the Jew’s garden,
And the Jews were all below.

2
Oh then out came the Jew’s daughter,
She was dressed all in green:
‘Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow,
And fetch your ball again.’

Q

Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 54, as sung by Widow Michael, an old
woman in Barhead.

1
A’ the bairns o Lincolnshire
Were learning at the school,
And every Saturday at een
They learnt their lessons weel.

2
The Jew’s dochter sat in her bower-door,
Sewing at her seam;
She spied a’the bonnie bairns,
As they cam out and hame.

R

Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xvii, VII.

It was in the middle o the midsimmer tyme,
When the scule weans playd at the ba, ba,
Out and cam the Jew’s tochter,
And on little Sir Hew did ca, ca,
And on little Sir Hew did ca.

* * * * *

#B.#

_Initial_ quh _is changed to_ wh: z, _for_ ȝ, _to_ y.

#C.#

“‘The Jew’s Daughter,’ which you say was transmitted to Mr Dodsley
by a friend of yours, never reached me, and Mr Dodsley says he
knows nothing of it. I wish you would prevail on your friend to
try to recollect or recover it, and send me another copy by
you.” _Percy to Paton, Jan. 12, 1769. The copy in the Percy
papers is in Paton’s hand._

1^4. _First written_: The fairest o them a’.

7^4. _First written_: The flower amang them a’.

#D.#

10^4. bells were, _in the second copy_.

#E.#

9^2. a swan.

#F.#

_Hume says, p. 5, that he first heard the ballad in early
boyhood_; “it was afterwards readily identified with Sir Hugh of
Lincoln, though the rustic minstrel from whom I received it made
no allusion to locality.” _One cannot tell whether this copy is
the ballad heard in early boyhood._

14^1. “_This and the next verse are transposed._” _Hume._

#G. a.#

2^4. darest.

#b.#

1^2. doth fall.

1^3. When all.

1^4. Were out a playing ball.

2^1. We toss the balls so.

2^2. We toss the balls so.

2^3. We’ve tossed it.

2^4. Where no one dares to.

3^1. out and came the Jew’s daughter.

3^3. Said, Come.

4^1. will not come in, I cannot.

4^2. playfellows.

4^3. Nor _for_ And.

4^4. Which will. _After 4_:
I must not come, I dare not come,
I cannot come at all,
For if my mother should call for me,
I cannot hear her call.

5^4. To entice this.

_After_ 5 (_compare Miss Perine’s own version_, #H# 6):
She put him in a little chair,
She pinned him with a pin,
And then she called for a wash-basin,
To spill his heart’s blood in.

6^3. dressing.

7^2. And the.

8 _comes before_ 6.

8^3. they threw: deep dark well.

8^4. Was fifty fathoms.

9 _wanting._

#J.# #a.#

6^4. Whereer.

#b.#

1^2. It rains both great.

2^2. And yet it.

3^3. thou young.

4^1. I dare not come, I dare not come.

4^2. Unless my.

4^3. And I shall be flogged when I get.

5^3. She laid him on the.

6^1. The thickest of blood did first come out.

6^3. The third that came was his dear heart’s blood.

6^4. Where all his.

7–13 _wanting._

#K.#

_There are slight changes in the second copy._

4^2. all _wanting_.

5^{1,3}. _The first_ as _wanting_.

#L. a.#

“After nearly sixty years my memory is not altogether trustworthy,
and I am not altogether sure how far I have mixed up my childish
recollections with later forms of the ballad which I have read.”

_The singer tagged on to this fragment version #c# of_ The Maid
freed from the Gallows, _given at_ II, 352.

#b.#

1^3. For all.

3^1. it _wanting_.

4^1. him in.

4^4. And wiled the young thing in.

5. _wanting._

6^1. him in through one dark door.

6^2. she has.

6^{3,4}. _wanting._

6^5. She’s laid him.

_After_ 7:
She’s rolled him in a cake of lead,
Bade him lie still and sleep,
And thrown him in St Mary’s well,
’Twas fifty fathoms deep.

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And all the boys came home,
Then every mother had her own son,
But Lady Maisy had none.

#N.#

“The writer was not a little surprised to hear from a group of
colored children, in the streets of New York city (though in a
more incoherent form), the following ballad. He traced the song
to a little girl living in one of the cabins near Central Park,
from whom he obtained this version.... The mother of the family
had herself been born in New York, of Irish parentage, but had
learned from her own mother, and handed down to her children,
such legends of the past as the ballad we cite.” _Communicated
to me by Mr. Newell some considerable time before publication._

#O.#

3. “One of the Jew’s daughters, ‘a-dressed all in green,’ issues
from the garden and says, Come in, etc.”

THE
ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH
POPULAR BALLADS

EDITED BY
FRANCIS JAMES CHILD