Sing a Song of Sixpence: a traditional nursery rhyme

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocketful of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie
When the pie was opened the birds began to sing
Wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king?

The king was in his counting house counting out his money

The queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes
When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose

This familiar nursery rhyme has been going the rounds for hundreds of years and its popularity owes much to the dramatic images it presents of birds flying out of pies and noses being pecked off unsuspecting maids. But does it perhaps have a more sinister meaning than the nonsense that it would appear to present?

Nobody is completely sure about the origin of this rhyme, but it may have a similar root to that of “Little Jack Horner” in that both refer to items being hidden in pies. The latter rhyme is almost certainly a reference to an incident during the 16^th century Dissolution of the Monasteries carried out on the orders of King Henry VIII, so it is entirely possible that “Sing a song of sixpence” has a similar theme.

King Henry ordered the break-up of England’s religious houses after he had declared himself to be the head of the English Church in opposition to the Pope. This came about after he had divorced his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, and married his second, Anne Boleyn, who was fated to fall from grace even more spectacularly. Neither queen had been able to provide Henry with what he most desired, namely a male heir.

So that accounts for the king, the queen (Catherine) and the maid (Anne). In “Little Jack Horner” the pie contained the deeds of monastic houses that were being conveyed to the king, so the blackbirds could easily be the same, or black-clad protestant clergymen who were only too happy to seize the deeds and present them to the king, in the expectation of rewards and preferments coming their way. On arrival, much “singing” would take place and the king would have plenty of “sixpences” to count in his counting house.

However, one particular blackbird, namely Thomas Cromwell who was King Henry’s Machiavellian chief minister, would later play a decisive role in the fall of Ann Boleyn who would lose considerably more than just her nose.

That is just one possible explanation, and others have been suggested. At any event, one can be assured that this simple little ditty has a much deeper meaning than might be apparent at first sight, whatever that meaning might be.

© John Welford

Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson

“The Full History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia”, which is usually abbreviated to “Rasselas”, was the only novel written by Dr Samuel Johnson (1709-84). He claimed that he wrote it in order to raise funds to meet the costs of his mother’s funeral in 1759.

Johnson had achieved fame by publishing his “Dictionary of the English Language” in 1755, but Rasselas is a very different kind of work.

It tells the story of a pampered prince who lives in the “happy valley” where all his physical needs are catered for but leaves him secluded from the outside world. However, he is dissatisfied with his lack of knowledge and escapes from the valley together with his sister, with a view to finding true happiness.

As a novel, Rasselas hardly counts as great literature, but Johnson was not a great storyteller, and the story is not the most important element of the book. It should instead be seen a parable – in the sense that John Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress” is a parable – and a peg on which Johnson could hang his thoughts and moral reflections about a wide range of topics.

Prince Rasselas engages in a number of lengthy conversations in which he discourses on matters including learning, reason, getting old, power, desire, madness and solitude. The views he expresses can be taken as those with which Samuel Johnson agrees or takes issue.

Apart from the famous dictionary, Dr Johnson is best known to us through the work of his friend and companion James Boswell, whom he first met in 1763. In his biography of Johnson (1791), and his well-known “Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides” (1785), Boswell recounted many conversations with Johnson in which the latter produced a large number of observations – including barbed and caustic remarks – that are often quoted even today. These have enabled us to form a view of this fascinating character.

However, the Johnson that emerged via the pen of Boswell had already been partly revealed many years earlier through Johnson’s own work, namely his “pot boiler” novel Rasselas.

© John Welford

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, Where Have You Been? A traditional nursery rhyme

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?
I’ve been to London to look at the Queen.
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?
I frightened a little mouse under her chair.

This little rhyme may have its origins in an actual incident in which a cat played a small part in the life of a monarch and got the best of the deal.

Cats are renowned for doing exactly what they want to do and being no respecter of persons. The old saying “A cat may look at a king” bears out this truth, and may indeed originate with the incident that gave rise to the rhyme.

The monarch in question was Queen Elizabeth I, but the cat remains nameless. It seems to have been an elderly tomcat that wandered round Windsor Castle and went wherever he felt like going. One day he decided to settle down for a snooze underneath a large chair that was actually the throne used by the Queen when dealing with official business and holding royal audiences.

As the cat slept on, the Queen arrived, as did her courtiers and the dignitaries, possibly foreign ambassadors, who had been granted an audience.

All the scraping of feet on the tiled floor, and maybe the occasional barked order, caused the cat to wake up in a state of panic. He did what all cats do under such circumstances and ran for safety – right underneath the Queen’s robes and between her feet, much to the alarm of everyone assembled and especially the most powerful person in Europe, namely Queen Elizabeth I.

The Queen screamed and flunkies ran after the cat as it tried to flee from the room. They caught it and – after the audience was over – brought it to the Queen so that due sentence could be passed.

However, Her Majesty, now fully recovered from her fright, was able to see the funny side of the affair and was prepared to be lenient. She gave a royal command that the cat was to be allowed to continue to wander round the castle as he wished, as long as he did a good job by helping to kill rats and mice.

Cats have always been useful in vermin control, and the tradition has continued down to the present day of giving due respect to cats in high places. For example, two regularly seen residents of London’s Downing Street are government employees named Larry and Palmerston. Larry is the latest holder of the office of Chief Mouser, which is a huge step up from his previous life as a stray tabby rescued by the Battersea Dogs and Cats Home.

Larry, the Number 10 cat, has eventually learned to tolerate the presence of Palmerston, who belongs to the Foreign Office, although there have been disagreements between them in the past. The verbal squabbles in the Cabinet Room have been as nothing to the real catfights that have taken place in the street outside!

© John Welford

Jack Sprat: a traditional nursery rhyme

Jack Sprat could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
And so between them both
They licked the platter clean

This familiar nursery rhyme may have its origin back in the 12th century when King Richard I set off on a crusade and left the realm of England in the care of his younger brother Prince John. John was the youngest of four sons, and thus the runt of the litter – or “Jack Sprat”.

John’s wife, Isabella of Gloucester, was renowned for her personal greed. She had, after all, gained all the property belonging to the earldom of Gloucester after her two sisters were disinherited in her favour by her marriage agreement to John.

However, the action mentioned in the rhyme probably had a more laudable motive than might appear at first sight. When Richard was on his way home from the crusade he was captured by Duke Leopold of Austria, who handed him over to the Holy Roman Emperor who in turn demanded a massive ransom for his release.

John and Isabella then set about gathering the money by all means available. They exhausted their own funds and then set about getting as much as they could from the rest of England, including raising taxes on clergy and laymen to the value of a quarter of their property.

They thus “licked the platter clean” in their efforts to bring Richard home, which were eventually successful. John’s subsequent unpopularity stemmed in part from this attempt to support his more popular brother, despite the fact that Richard only spent a few months of his ten year reign in England.

© John Welford

I Had a Little Nut Tree: the meaning behind a traditional nursery rhyme

Many traditional English nursery rhymes have their origin in actual historical events. “I had a little nut tree” is one such.

The rhyme

I had a little nut tree
Nothing would it bear
But a silver nutmeg
And a golden pear.

The King of Spain’s daughter
Came to visit me,
And all for sake
Of my little nut tree.

Her dress was made of crimson
Jet black was her hair,
She asked me for my nut tree
And my golden pear.

I said “So fair a princess
Never did I see;
I will give you all the fruit
From my little nut tree.”

The meaning

This simple nursery rhyme refers to the dynastic marriage between Catherine of Aragon (daughter of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain) and Prince Arthur, the son and heir of King Henry VII of England. 

The speaker of the rhyme can therefore be taken as Prince Arthur, or his father, or the whole of England. 

The marriage plans went awry when Prince Arthur died within a year of the 1501 marriage. King Henry, who was always careful where money was concerned, did not want to return Catherine’s dowry so he quickly proposed Plan B, which was that she should marry King Henry’s younger son, also named Henry, when the latter was old enough (he was not yet 11 years old when Arthur died). 

The nut tree is therefore the source of the wealth of England that King Henry was willing to trade with Spain. Nutmeg refers to the spices that English trade with the Far East was bringing in, and pears are shorthand for England’s agricultural produce. 

These commodities are England’s silver and gold, in that Henry was hoping to acquire some of the wealth that Spain was accumulating as a result of its explorations in the Americas. Henry may have regretted that he had turned down the chance to finance Christopher Columbus’s voyage in 1492, and been mindful that it was Ferdinand and Isabella who had done so and that they were now reaping the benefits. He now had an opportunity to repair some of the damage.

As far as England was concerned, “all the fruit from my little nut tree” was a price well worth paying for a share in the wealth of the Americas.

© John Welford

Hickory, Dickory, Dock: the meaning behind a traditional nursery rhyme

“Hickory, dickory, dock” is a simple little rhyme about a mouse and a clock, but it probably refers to one of Britain’s least known-about rulers who made a brief appearance on the political scene in the 17^th century.

Hickory, dickory, dock

Hickory, dickory, dock 

The mouse ran up the clock.

The clock struck one,

The mouse ran down,

Hickory, dickory, dock.

This nursery rhyme first appeared in print in 1743 but is thought to refer to events of the previous century.

Richard Cromwell, Lord Protector

 Britain was a republic between the execution of King Charles I in 1649 and the restoration of the monarchy, under King Charles II, in 1660. The name of Oliver Cromwell is well known, given that he assumed the title of Lord Protector for most of this period, but that of Richard Cromwell, Oliver’s eldest surviving son, is much less familiar.

Oliver Cromwell died in September 1658, having proposed to Parliament that Richard should succeed him. However, Richard was not only inadequately prepared for the role, he was also not suited for it temperamentally. He was simply not the right man for the job and had no real desire for it.

As a result, Richard Cromwell only lasted for nine months as Lord Protector before offering his resignation. Moves were then set in train for the return of the monarchy. Richard was allowed to leave the country for France, where he stayed until 1680 before returning to England. King Charles saw him as no threat and allowed him to live out his days in obscurity on his estate. He died in 1712 at the age of 85.

Richard was given several nicknames including “Tumbledown Dick”, which fits the spirit of the nursery rhyme. As “Hickory Dick” his life at the top was limited by the passage of time. Just as surely as he “ran up the clock” he was bound to run down it again, the “one” of the rhyme being the one year during which he held office. Richard’s timid, mouse-like demeanour, in great contrast to that of his father, is also represented in the rhyme.

 There is a second verse to the rhyme that is rarely heard and which refers to “the man in brown” who “soon brought him down”. This can be taken to be King Charles II, who had, during the early years of Oliver Cromwell’s rule, been forced to disguise himself to avoid capture before he could escape to France.

© John Welford