Sinister songs of our childhood

Babies that fall from heights. A tumble with precious water. Mice missing tails. Spiders washed away.

While they sound like scenes from a horror movie, the reality is something else —something rather insidious, which makes it scarier still.

Each scenario is part of our beloved nursery rhymes and lullabies. The first being, “Rock a bye baby on the tree top,/When the wind blows the cradle will rock,/When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,/And down will come baby, cradle and all.”

Why? Why should the cradle and the baby and bough break? Strange, isn’t it?

The others are Jack and Jill, the three blind mice, and that poor incy wincy spider. The list doesn’t end here. There’s the rather alarming fall that Humpty Dumpty takes. Or, Goosey Goosey Gander, who wanders and throws an old man down the stairs for not saying his prayers. The amount of violence in some of these rhymes is disturbing when you think about it. Indeed, except for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, there aren’t too many peaceful nursery rhymes.

As a child, I loved these rhymes; many readers also, am certain, do. I remember too the gestures with which my teacher taught me these songs. As I grew older, I wondered about the often dark and scary fairy tales I had read as a child. Vengeful siblings, poisoned apples, and what have you! When I learned that Gulliver’s Travels was satire, a stinging criticism of the hypocrisy of the politics of England, it made me think of other books and poems that were like how a poem ought to be: revealed less, hid more. And so it is with nursery rhymes.

One of the most straightforward explanations is that nursery rhymes were often a response to political or royal events. Let’s consider possible interpretations of some of the most popular rhymes.

Rock-a-bye-baby: This instantly recognisable lullaby owes its dark undertones to the pressures of having to produce a royal heir. If King James II failed to produce a catholic heir, Protestantism would take over, and the House of Stuart would undoubtedly fall.

Humpty Dumpty: A name given in affection to a massive cannon, Humpty Dumpty was one of the ammunition used in the English Civil War. But when it was damaged, all efforts to fix it were in vain.

Jack and Jill: This rhyme focuses on King Louis XVI, who lost his crown because he was beheaded. His queen, Marie Antoinette, came tumbling after. He’s Jack, she is Jill.

Goosey Goosey Gander: The rhyme harks back to a time when prayers in Latin were forbidden, and Catholic priests had to recite them in secret. If they were caught, they were treated with great cruelty.

Ring Ring-a-ring o’ roses: When we learnt this rhyme in school, we used to sing it as, “Ringa-ringa roses/pocket full of posies/hassha/bussha/We all fall down!” No matter how you remember it, this rhyme is about the bubonic plague. The rashes showed up in a ring formation, accompanied by sneezing. Having a bunch of flowers in your pocket protected you from the stench that many thought was how the disease spread in the first place.

Baa Baa Black Sheep: There are some versions of this rhyme, and the most popular is that it is about the hefty tax that was levied on wool for several hundreds of years in England.

It’s a tad disconcerting to know that rather gruesome stories lie behind the happy, smiley world of the nursery rhyme. And so, the question remains: Why were nursery rhymes used to convey such serious themes? One of the reasons could be that it was the easiest way to speak truth to power without censure or punishment. Also, a nursery rhyme works well for adults, too. They see the meaning, like we are attempting to do today, even if it eludes children. Children enjoy the singsong and sing-along feel of these tunes. No wonder some of them have endured for so long.

We would do well to remember that these rhymes are products of their time. They serve as historical documents steeped in the oral tradition. They remind us that there is more than one version — even of a well-known occurrence. The nursery rhyme lends itself to all age groups, allowing straightforward enjoyment or deep contemplation. How many poems can we say that about?

World in Verse is a monthly column on the best of new (and old) poetry. The writer is a poet, teacher, voice actor and speaker. She has published two collections of poetry. 

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