277. The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin

No. 277: The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin

[Child's title for B could have been supplied possibly from another earlier version by Miss Harris that is unknown or it is simply the title that she knew. Since "the wude" is not part of the ballad text, perhaps 'Robin he's gane to the wast' could be inserted as the more accurate title.

The broadside that this ballad (See Child's footnote 2) is based on, A Merry Jeste of a Shrewde and Curst Wyfe- pre 1575 (given from two editions), is found attached to the Recording & Info page.

A US version, 'The Ballad of Sweet William and Gentle Jenny,' found in Additions and Corrections, was designated Child F by Kittredge in the 1904 edition.

Bronson lists several related versions that do not tell the ballad story in his Group (Class) F that include "Robin-a-Thrush" and "Hobbelty Bobblety How Now," as well as the US versions-  "Risslety, Rosslety" and "John Dobber."  Versions of Bronson's Group F will be found in my appendix: 277 A. The Slattern Wife (Risslety, Rosslety).

Chubby Parker's 1927 recording "Nickety Nackety, Now, Now Now," which is found in my Appendix, has possibly been adapted to include the text of the ballad- a version being published by Richard Chase and another collected by Roberts in 1959. Both versions include Parker's distinctive chorus which was "learned" by Parker from another unknown source.

R. Matteson 2012]

CONTENTS:

1. Child's Narrative
2. Footnotes (The footnotes are found at the end of Child's Narrative)
3. Brief (Kittredge)
4. Child's Ballad Texts A-E (Changes for A b are found in End-Notes. Two additional texts, one from the US, are given in Additions and Corrections.)
5. End-Notes
6. Additions and Corrections

ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):

1. Recordings & Info: 277. The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin
   A.  Roud No. 117: The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin (287 Listings) 
   B. A Merry Jeste of a Shrewde and Curst Wyfe- pre 1575 (two editions)

2. Sheet Music: 277. The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin (Bronson's music examples and texts)

3. US and Canadian Versions (including Child's text)

4.  English and Other Versions (Including Child versions A- E)

Child's Narrative: 277. The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin

A. a. 'Sweet Robin,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 319.
    b. Macmath Manuscript, p. 100, three stanzas.

B. 'Robin he's gane to the wude,' Harris Manuscript, fol. D. 26 b.

C. 'The Cooper of Fife,' Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Song, p. 333.

D. Jamieson-Brown Manuscript, Appendix, p. iii.

E. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 324.

[F. 'The Ballad of Sweet William and Gentle Genny' From the recitation of Miss Lydia R. Nichols, Salem, Massachusetts, as heard in the early years of this century. Sung by a New England country fellow on ship-board: Journal of American Folk-Lore, VII, 253 ff., 1894.]

Jamieson cites the first two stanzas of A a in a letter of inquiry to The Scots Magazine, October, 1803, p. 700, and the first half of D (with alterations) in his preface, Popular Ballads, I, 320. The ballad, he says, is very popular all over Scotland.

Robin has married a wife of too high kin to bake or brew, wash or wring. He strips off a wether's skin and lays it on her back, or prins her in it. He dares not beat her, for her proud kin, but he may beat the wether's skin, and does. This makes an ill wife good.

A fragment in Herd's Manuscripts, I, 105, II, 161, belongs, if not to this ballad, at least to one in which an attempt is made to tame a shrew by castigation.

  'Now tak a cud in ilka hand
And bace[1] her up and doun, man,
And she'll be an o the best wives
That ever took the town, man.'
  * * *
  And Jammie's turnd him round about,
He's done a manly feat:
'Get up, get up, ye dirty slut,
And gie to me my meat.'
  * * *
  'Say 't oer again, say 't oer again,
Ye thief, that I may hear ye;
I'se gar ye dance upon a peat,
Gin I sail cum but near ye.'

The story of the ballad was in all likelihood traditionally derived from the good old tale of the wife lapped in Morrel's skin.[2] Here a husband, who has put up with a great deal from an excessively restive wife, flays his old horse Morrell and salts the hide, takes the shrew down cellar, and, after a sharp contest for mastery, beats her with birchen rods till she swoons, then wraps her in the salted hide: by which process the woman is perfectly reformed.[3]

Footnotes:

1. Bace in the second copy, rightly, that is, bash, beat; bare in the first (probably mistranscribed).

2. A merry jeste of a shrewde and curste wyfe lapped in Morrelles skin for her good behauyour. Imprinted at London in Fleetestreete, beneath the Conduite, at the signe of Saint John Euangelist, by H. Jackson; without date, but earlier than 1575, since the book was in Captain Cox's library. Reprinted in Utterson's Select Pieces of Early Popular Poetry, 1825, II, 169; The Old Taming of the Shrew, edited by T. Amyot for the Shakespeare Society, 1844, p. 53; W. C. Hazlitt's Early Popular Poetry, IV, 179.

3. These passages are worth noting:

  She can carde, she can spin,
She can thresh and she can fan.
(v. 419 f.) 

  In euery hand a rod he gate
And layd vpon her a right good pace.
(v. 955 f.) 

  Where art thou, wife? shall I haue any meate?
(v. 839.)

(Compare Herd's fragments with the last two, and with 903-10.)

 Brief Description by George Lyman Kittredge

The story of the ballad was in all likelihood traditionally derived from the good old tale of the Wife Lapped in Morrel's Skin (Hazlitt's Early Popular Poetry, iv, 179). Here a husband, who has put up with a great deal from an excessively restive wife, flays his old horse Morrell and salts the hide, takes the shrew down cellar, and, after a sharp contest for mastery, beats her with birchen rods till she swoons, then wraps her in the salted hide: by which process the woman is perfectly reformed.

Child's Ballad Texts

'Sweet Robin'- Version A; Child 277 The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 319. "From the recitation of a friend of the editor's in Morayshire."

1    She wadna bake, she wadna brew,
Hollin, green hollin
For spoiling o her comely hue.
Bend your bow, Robin.

2    She wadna wash, she wadna wring,
For spoiling o her gay goud ring.

3    Robin he's gane to the fald
And catched a weather by the spauld.

4    And he has killed his weather black
And laid the skin upon her back.

5    'I darena pay you, for your kin,
But I can pay my weather's skin.

6    'I darena pay my lady's back,
But I can pay my weather black.'

7    'O Robin, Robin, lat me be,
And I'll a good wife be to thee.

8    'It's I will wash, and I will wring,
And never mind my gay goud ring.

9    'It's I will bake, and I will brew,
And never mind my comely hue.

10    'And gin ye thinkna that eneugh,
I'se tak the goad and I'se ca the pleugh.

11    'Gin ye ca for mair whan that is doon,
I'll sit i the neuk and I'll dight your shoon.'
-----------

'Robin he's gane to the wude'- Version B; Child 277 The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin
Harris Manuscript, fol. 26 b, No 25, from Miss Harris.

1    Robin he's gane to the wast,
Hollin, green hollin
He's waled a wife amang the warst.
Bend your bows, Robin

2    She could neither bake nor brew,
For spoilin o her bonnie hue.

3    She could nether spin nor caird,
But fill the cup, an sair the laird.

4    She could nether wash nor wring,
For spoilin o her gay goud ring.

5    Robin's sworn by the rude
That he wald mak an ill wife gude.

6    Robin he's gaun to the fauld,
An taen his blaik [wither] by the spauld.

7    He's taen aff his wither's skin
An he has preened his ain wife in.

8    'I daurna beat my wife, for a' her kin,
But I may beat my wither's skin.'

9    'I can baith bake an brew;
What care I for my bonnie hue?

10    'I can baith wash an wring;
What care I for my gay gowd ring?

11    'I can baith spin an caird;
Lat onybodie sair the laird.'

12    Robin's sworn by the rude
That he has made an ill wife gude.
----------

 'The Cooper of Fife'- Version C; Child 277- The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin
Whitelaw's Book of Scottish Song, p. 333.

1    There was a wee cooper who lived in Fife,
Nickity, nackity, noo, noo, noo
And he has gotten a gentle wife.
Hey Willie Wallacky, how John Dougall,
Alane, quo Rushety, roue, roue, roue.

2    She wadna bake, nor she wadna brew,
For the spoiling o her comely hue.

3    She wadna card, nor she wadna spin,
For the shaming o her gentle kin.

4    She wadna wash, nor she wadna wring,
For the spoiling o her gouden ring.

5    The cooper's awa to his woo-pack
And has laid a sheep-skin on his wife's back.

6    'It's I'll no thrash ye, for your proud kin,
But I will thrash my ain sheep-skin.'

7    'Of, I will bake, and I will brew,
And never mair think on my comely hue.

8    'Oh, I will card, and I will spin,
And never mair think on my gentle kin.

9    'Oh, I will wash, and I will wring,
And never mair think on my gouden ring.'

10    A' ye wha hae gotten a gentle wife
Send ye for the wee cooper o Fife.
---------

['There liv'd a laird down into Fife']- Version D; Child 277 The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin
Jamieson-Brown Manuscript, Appendix, p. iii, letter of R. Scott to Jamieson, June 9, 1805.

1    There livd a laird down into Fife,
Riftly, raftly, now, now, now
An he has married a bonny young wife.
Hey Jock Simpleton, Jenny['s] white petticoat,
Robin a Rashes, now, now, now.

2    He courted her and he brought her hame,
An thought she would prove a thrifty dame.

3    She could nether spin nor caird,
But sit in her chair and dawt the laird.

4    She wadna bake and she wadna brew,
An a' was for spoiling her delicate hue.

5    She wadna wash nor wad she wring,
For spoiling o her gay goud ring.

6    But he has taen him to his sheep-fauld,
An taen the best weather by the spauld.

7    Aff o the weather he took the skin,
An rowt his bonny lady in.

8    'I dare na thump you, for your proud kin,
But well sall I lay to my ain weather's skin.'
* * * * *
----------

['There lives a landart laird in Fife']- Version E; Child 277 The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 324.

1    There lives a landart laird in Fife,
And he has married a dandily wife.

2    She wadna shape, nor yet wad she sew,
But sit wi her cummers and fill hersell fu.

3    She wadna spin, nor yet wad she card,
But she wad sit and crack wit the laird.

4    He is down to his sheep-fald
And cleekit a weather by the back-spald.

5    He's whirpled aff the gude weather's-skin
And wrappit the dandily lady therein.

6    'I darena pay you, for your gentle kin,
But weel I may skelp my weather's-skin.'
* * * * *

[F. 'The Ballad of Sweet William and Gentle Genny'] From the recitation of Miss Lydia R. Nichols, Salem, Massachusetts, as heard in the early years of this century. Sung by a New England country fellow on ship-board: Journal of American Folk-Lore, VII, 253 ff., 1894.]
 

1   Sweet William he married a wife,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
To be the sweet comfort of his life.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

2   Jenny couldnt in the kitchen to go,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
For fear of dirting her white-heeled shoes.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

3   Jenny couldnt wash, and Jenny couldnt bake,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
For fear of dirting her white apurn tape.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

4   Jenny couldnt card, and Jenny couldnt spin,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
For fear of hurting her gay gold ring.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

5   Sweet William came whistling in from plaow,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
Says, 'O my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

6   She called him a dirty paltry whelp:
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
'If you want any dinner, go get it yourself.'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

7   Sweet William went aout unto the sheep-fold,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And aout a fat wether he did pull.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

8   And daown on his knees he began for to stick,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And quicklie its skin he thereof did strip.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

9   He took the skin and laid on his wife's back,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And with a good stick went whikety whack.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

10   'I'll tell my father and all my kin
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
How still a quarrel you've begun.'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

11   'You may tell your father and all your kin
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
How I have thrashed my fat wether's skin.'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

12   Sweet William came whistling in from plaow,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
Says, 'Oh my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

13   She drew her table and spread her board,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And, ' Oh my dear husband,' was every word.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

14   And naow they live free from all care and strife,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And naow she makes William a very good wife.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.
----------

End-Notes

A. aThe refrain, altered by Jamieson, has been restored from his preface. Five stanzas added by him at the end have been dropped.
bFrom the recitation of Miss Agnes Macmath, 29th April, 1893; learned by her from her mother, who had it from her mother, Janet Spark, Kirkcudbrightshire.
2.   She could na wash and she could na wring,
Hey, Wullie Wyliecot, noo, noo, noo
For the spoiling o her gay gold ring.
Wi my Hey, Wullie Wyliecot, tangie dooble,
That robes in the rassiecot, noo, noo, noo
  (Refrain perhaps corrupt.) 
3.   He's gane oot unto the fauld,
He's catched a wather by the spaul.
5.   'I darena thrash ye, for yer kin,
But I may thrash my ain wather-skin.' 

Additions and Corrections

P. 104. [Child F, designated by Kittredge (1904 edition)] From the recitation of Miss Lydia R. Nichols, Salem, Massachusetts, as heard in the early years of this century. Sung by a New England country fellow on ship-board: Journal of American Folk-Lore, VII, 253 ff., 1894.

As to "drew her table," 13, the following information is given: "I have often heard a mother tell her daughter to 'draw the table.' Forty years ago it was not uncommon to see in farmhouses a large round table, the body of which was made to serve as an armchair. When the table was not in use the top was tipped back against the wall. Under the chair-seat was a drawer in which the table linen was kept. When meal-time came the table was drawn away from the wall, the top brought down on the arms of the chair, and the cloth, which had been fished out of the drawer, spread over it."

1   Sweet William he married a wife,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
To be the sweet comfort of his life.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

2   Jenny couldnt in the kitchen to go,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
For fear of dirting her white-heeled shoes.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

3   Jenny couldnt wash, and Jenny couldnt bake,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
For fear of dirting her white apurn tape.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

4   Jenny couldnt card, and Jenny couldnt spin,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
For fear of hurting her gay gold ring.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

5   Sweet William came whistling in from plaow,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
Says, 'O my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

6   She called him a dirty paltry whelp:
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
'If you want any dinner, go get it yourself.'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

7   Sweet William went aout unto the sheep-fold,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And aout a fat wether he did pull.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

8   And daown on his knees he began for to stick,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And quicklie its skin he thereof did strip.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

9   He took the skin and laid on his wife's back,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And with a good stick went whikety whack.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

10   'I'll tell my father and all my kin
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
How still a quarrel you've begun.'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

11   'You may tell your father and all your kin
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
How I have thrashed my fat wether's skin.'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

12   Sweet William came whistling in from plaow,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
Says, 'Oh my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?'
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

13   She drew her table and spread her board,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And, ' Oh my dear husband,' was every word.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

14   And naow they live free from all care and strife,
      Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree
And naow she makes William a very good wife.
      As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

Folk-Lore Society, County Folk-Lore, Printed Extracts: No 2, Suffolk, 1893, collected and edited by the Lady Eveline Camilla Gurdon, p. 139 f. Contributed by "a Suffolk man" to the Suffolk Notes and Queries column of The Ipswich Journal, 1877.

1   There wus a man lived in the West,
      Limbo clashmo!
There wus a man lived in the West,
He married the wuman that he liked best.
      With a ricararo, ricararo, milk in the morn,
      O dary mingo.

2   He married this wuman and browt her horn,
      Limbo clashmo!
He married this wuman and browt her horn,
And set her in his best parlour rom.
      With a ricararo, ricararo, milk in the morn,
      O dary mingo.

3   My man and I went to the fowd,
      Limbo clashmo!
My man and I went to the fowd,
And ketcht the finest wuther that we could howd.
      With a ricararo, ricararo, milk in the morn,
      O dary mingo.

4   We fleed this wuther and browt him horn,
      Limbo clashmo!
We fleed this wuther and browt him horn,
Sez I, 'Wife, now youar begun yar doon.
      With a ricararo, ricararo, milk in the morn,
      O dary mingo.

5   I laid this skin on my wife's back,
      Limbo clashmo!
I laid this skin on my wife's back,
And on to it I then did swack.
      With a ricararo, ricararo, milk in the morn,
      O dary mingo.

6   I 'inted har with ashen ile,
      Limbo clashmo!
I 'inted har with ashen ile,
Till she could both brew, bake, wash and bile.
O dary mingo — mingo.