Season 3: Episode 12 - Great A, Little A

In this episode of the 'A Tisket-Tasket' podcast, hosted by Gina, the focus is on the nursery rhyme 'Great A, Little A, Bouncing B,' which has deep roots in the history of children's literature. Gina explores the contributions of key historical figures like printers Thomas Bailey and John Marshall, and historian Sir Francis Palgrave. The episode touches on the rhyme's educational value, its use in early children's books, and its cultural significance. Despite limited historical details about the rhyme, Gina discusses its possible French origins, various printed versions, and the role of illustrators like Kate Greenway. The episode concludes by reflecting on the legacy of these pioneers in making children's literature a significant part of cultural heritage.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to A Tisket-Tasket podcast, the podcast where I explore the fascinating stories behind the nursery rhymes and folklore that shaped our childhoods. I'm your host, Gina, and today we're diving into the whimsical world of the nursery rhyme “Great A, Little a.” This rhyme has a rich history intertwined with the development of children's literature, and we'll explore key figures that I haven't discussed before on this podcast — including Thomas Bailey, John Marshall, and Sir Francis Palgrave. Settle in, get yourself a cup of tea, and let's begin.

To start off with, I didn't find a ton of information about this nursery rhyme, despite the fact that it seems fairly ubiquitous in British children's literature. Looking through the Opies' Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes, they say that the sign “A, a, B — Great A, little a, and big bouncing B” was displayed by some of the early printers of juveniles.

Thomas Bailey of Bishopsgate was one, and another was probably John Marshall, for his shop became known as the “Great A and Bouncing B Toy Factory.” Canning in the Microcosm, a weekly produced by Etonians on June 11, 1787, refers to the “Bouncing B, Shoe Lane,” as a place where histories of Tom Thumb could be bought. The rhyme appears in several early children's books, and the sign was probably derived from it.

Newbery’s Little Pretty Pocket Book (1744) has a rather different version beginning:
"Great A, B, and C in tumble-down D.
The cat's a blind buff and she cannot see."

The original nursery rhyme published in this book is:
 "Great A, little a, bouncing B,
 The cat's in the cupboard and she can't see."

In ten verses, it runs through the alphabet, but this type of tuition does not seem to have found favor in the 19th century. Sir Francis Palgrave in 1819 was already regretting that nurses had become strangely fastidious in their literary taste compared with the days where they “took such desperate pains in leading us onwards from great A and little a and bouncing B, even down to ampersand and isard,” which are both letters that were previously in the English alphabet but have since been removed.

What we can tell by the Opies is that this nursery rhyme is probably from the early 1700s, and it became a staple of printers who were printing children's literature. Now I wish I had more to say about this nursery rhyme as far as its history. I found some anecdotal evidence that might suggest that this nursery rhyme is from French origins because it shares similar characteristics with a French nursery rhyme called When Pigs Fly, but I can't find any evidence that backs that up.

Furthermore, I cannot find any recording of this nursery rhyme that I could use without paying for it. There is a YouTube video of an older lady who is singing an acoustic version, and she changes the words very slightly and uses it as a game to teach little babies — like hide and seek. But again, I couldn't find any great recordings or any other interesting information to talk about this rhyme.

A few names came up in that description that Opie and Opie wrote that I'd like to talk about today.

Obviously, the rhyme “Great A, little a, bouncing B” is a playful introduction to the alphabet that has delighted children for generations. Its origins can be traced back to when the printing press industry was booming and there was a growing interest in creating educational materials for children.

Alphabet nursery rhymes are common, and I have talked about a few on this podcast. This one is no different. However, it seems that the complete rhyme — that is, the verses containing more letters — have been lost to time.

While much is not known about the history of this rhyme, there is a lot to be said about the key historical figures in children's literature. One of the pivotal figures in this movement was Thomas Bailey, a printer based in London. In 1786, Bailey published an alphabet book that featured the rhyme “Great A, little a.” This book was significant because it combined education with entertainment, making learning the alphabet a fun experience for young readers.

Bailey's work was part of a broader trend during this period where printers began to recognize the importance of engaging children through literature. His playful approach to teaching the alphabet set a precedent for future children's books, emphasizing the value of rhyme in early literacy. This can also be seen in the illustrators of the time.

Kate Greenaway, for example, has a beautiful illustration of this nursery rhyme — as do Caldecott, Winslow, and Crane. All four of these illustrators I've mentioned in earlier podcasts, and I'm a big fan of their beautiful work.

But now let's talk about John Marshall, another important figure in the history of children's literature. Marshall was also a printer who operated in London during the early 19th century. He produced a variety of educational materials, including nursery rhymes and alphabet books similar to Bailey's work.

Marshall's contribution was significant in that he expanded the market for children's literature, creating books that were not only educational but also very visually appealing. His work often included illustrations that captured the imagination of young readers, further enhancing the learning experience.

John Marshall was so prolific in children's literature and enjoyed it so much that he called himself “the Children's Printer and Children’s Young Friend.” He was preeminent in England as a children's book publisher from about 1780 to 1800 — and as we've discussed on this podcast, that seems to be a truly golden age for publishing children's literature.

Marshall began publishing children's literature around 1770. After 1780, Marshall recruited several new female authors and published some of the most important children's literature of the time. Notably:

• Mary Ann Kilner — The Adventures of a Pincushion, The Adventures of a Whipping Top, Memoirs of a Peg-Top, and William Sedley
• Dorothy Kilner — Anecdotes of a Boarding School, The Histories of More Children Than One, The Life and Perambulation of a Mouse
• Ellenor Fenn (also known as Mrs. Teachwell) — Cobwebs to Catch Flies, Fables in Monosyllables, The Mother's Grammar, The Rational Dame, Rational Sports, and School Occurrences
• Sarah Trimmer — Scripture Lessons, which includes prints of various biblical and historical scenes, often used in Sunday schools
• Lucy Peacock — The Life of a Bee, Emily, or the Test of Sincerity

All of these wonderful pieces of literature went through several editions and were published multiple times. Some remained in print well into the 19th century, such as Cobwebs to Catch Flies and The Life and Perambulation of a Mouse, which was praised by both Sarah Trimmer and Mary Wollstonecraft.

Marshall's catalog as of May 1793 included 113 children's book titles, two children's magazines, and various teaching aids — which is astounding when you consider how little was published before this.

Moving on to discuss the phrase “bouncing B,” it is often associated with the playful nature of these alphabet books. It reflects the whimsical style that both Bailey and Marshall employed in their printing works. The use of such phrases made the learning process enjoyable, encouraging children to engage with the material and, in general, creating a more literate population.

Let's take a moment to explore Shoe Lane — a street in London that was a hub for printing and publishing during the 18th and 19th centuries. Many printers, including Bailey and Marshall, operated in this area, contributing to the vibrant culture of children's literature. Shoe Lane became synonymous with the production of educational texts, nursery rhymes, and alphabet books.

As we delve deeper into the context of children's literature, of course, I need to mention Sir Francis Palgrave. Palgrave was an English historian and folklorist who lived during the 19th century. He recognized the importance of folklore and oral traditions in understanding cultural heritage, and he was an advocate for the role of literature in education.

Palgrave’s work in documenting folk tales and children's literature helped to elevate the status of these genres. He believed that stories could instill values and knowledge in children, and he contributed to the understanding of how literature could shape the moral and intellectual development of young readers.

Palgrave was an interesting fellow. He was Deputy Keeper — which is, I guess, the equivalent of a Chief Executive — of the Public Record Office from its foundation in 1838 until his death. He was interested in English history and archival work and is remembered for many scholarly publications.

He rose to fame in 1822 when he advocated publishing the national records. From 1827, he edited several volumes of medieval texts for the Record Commission, including Parliamentary Writs and Writs of Military Summons. Furthermore, he published historical works of his own, including A History of England (1831), The Rise and Progress of the English Commonwealth (1832), An Essay on the Original Authority of the King's Council (1834), and Truths and Fictions of the Middle Ages: The Merchant and the Friar (1837).

Palgrave is considered the founder of the Public Record Office. In 1834, he succeeded John Caley as the Keeper of the Records in the Chapter House of Westminster Abbey, where he restored the ancient records of the country — including something called the Domesday Book, which I’m not entirely sure what that is.

Edit: This is one of those interesting occasions where I'm not going to edit out my last phrase when I said I didn't know what it was, just to give you an idea of the inner workings of my brain. After I finished recording this podcast, I went on the internet to look up what the Domesday Book was because I was just so damn interested.

The Domesday Book — which is the Middle English spelling of “Doomsday Book” — is a manuscript record of the great survey of much of England and parts of Wales completed in 1086 at the behest of William the Conqueror. The manuscript was originally known by the Latin name (which I’m not even going to try to pronounce), meaning “Book of Winchester,” where it was originally kept in the Royal Treasury.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle states that in 1085 the king sent his agents to survey the entire shire in England to list his holdings and dues owed to him. The book itself is written in medieval Latin and was highly abbreviated, including some vernacular native terms without Latin equivalents. The survey's main purpose was to record the annual value of every piece of land property to its lord, and the resources in land, labor force, and livestock for which the value derived.

The name “Domesday Book” came into use in the 12th century. Richard FitzNeal wrote in the Dialogus de Scaccario (circa 1179) that the book was so-called because its decisions were unalterable, like those of the Last Judgment, and its sentence could not be quashed.

If you want to see this manuscript, it's now held at the National Archives in Kew, London. Doomsday was first printed in full in 1783, and in 2011, the Open Domesday website made the manuscript available on the internet. Google that book. It’s really interesting to look at.

Now, back to your scheduled programming.

After that, in 1838, Palgrave was appointed the Deputy Keeper of the new Public Record Office, which he held until his death. His work was so notable that he was knighted in 1832. In 1834, he was elected a Foreign Honorary Member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, as well as a member of the American Antiquarian Society in 1860.

This was a man who made a number of contributions to folklore, history, and archival work.

The legacy of Great A, little a, and its associated figures like Thomas Bailey, John Marshall, and Sir Francis Palgrave is profound. Their efforts to create engaging and educational materials for children laid the groundwork for modern children's literature and folklore.

The playful nature of the rhyme continues to resonate with young readers, and it reminds us of the joy of learning through stories.

To end today: the history of Great A, little a is not just about a simple nursery rhyme. It's a reflection of a time when the importance of childhood education was just beginning to be recognized. The contributions of printers and authors during this period helped shape the landscape of children's literature, making it a vital part of our cultural heritage.

Thank you for joining me on this journey through the history of Great A, little a. If you've enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and leave a review. Join me next time where we explore another fascinating topic in the world of literature. Until then, keep reading and sharing the joys of stories.

A little postscript here: I do apologize if I sound awful in this recording. I've had a cold for the last couple of weeks, and it's been a really rough last couple of months, so it does feel good to get back into the swing of things.

Hopefully, I will still be able to publish a new podcast episode every week and delve deeply into the history of these wonderful stories. I would love to keep working on folklore and with folklore — it's just very difficult right now.

I have received some not-so-great news about a number of things, including my health and my future as far as what I want to do for education and study. So I guess we'll see how things go. I still love folklore and children's folklore and nursery rhymes very much, and I love looking up the history of these wonderful people who have contributed so much.

But being chronically ill is pretty difficult. With that being said, I want to thank each and every one of you who tune in every week to listen to me ramble about the wonderful history of these. It means a lot to me that I have a pretty regular audience that seems to be growing and enjoying what I have to say.

📍 Take care everyone.