I'm king of the birds!
Ever noticed how, just like everything else, there are trends in Christmas cards? I‘m very pleased that robins are back!
Robins have a long association with the winter solstice beginning before Christian times, as does the wren. "The robin and the wren, God's cock and hen" have been linked in mythology and Christian lore throughout Europe. In ancient times, midwinter was a time of fear, death and superstition. The sun was waning, the old year was dying.
Of the two birds, the wren's heritage is more ancient. The wren cult appears to have its origins in Saturnalia, ancient Rome's most important fertility festival. During the weeklong orgy starting on 17 December the role of master and slave was reversed, moral restrictions removed and rules of etiquette ignored. The wren was the king of birds in Greek mythology, therefore killing one at this time of year represented the end of the old season and start of the new. The wren mythology made its way to Bronze Age Britain, where woe betide anyone who dared harm these sacred Druidic birds of prophecy.
Strange then, that one of the oldest elaborate folk rituals, once widespread in Britain and still surviving in Ireland and parts of Europe, is the St Stephen's Day wren hunt. Perhaps this is because the wren is also associated with deception and treachery. The most widely held belief is that a wren alerted the guards when St Stephen was trying to escape imprisonment, causing the death of the first Christian martyr. But an even older Druid story tells how the wren won a competition to determine who was king of the birds by cheating! Whoever flew the highest would rule. The wren hid in the back of the eagle which reached greater heights than any other. When the exhausted eagle could climb no further, the wren emerged rested and soared even higher.
On 26 December youths ‘wren boys’ armed with sticks beat hedgerows until a wren was caught and killed. The bird was hung from the top of an elaborately decorated pole and paraded to every house in the locality. A feather would be plucked and given to each householder as a protection against witches. Today, mostly around Cork, the tradition is for children to go "hunting the wren". It’s ‘corpse’ (usually an effigy), is put on a pole, or sometimes in a basket. "The wren boys" go from home to home displaying the dead bird and begging the woman of the house for money "to bury the wren." In times gone by, the least generous house could have the bird buried under their doorstep.
A variation of the ancient Wren hunt is believed to have involved putting a Robin and a Wren in a small cage where they would fight. Perhaps this ties into other folklore in which the wren represented the old year and the robin the New Year coming in. Depending on the tale, this made the birds either friends or foe. The Robin is also associated with the Wren in stories such as Cock Robin and Jennie Wren – harking back to the idea that they were the males and females of a single species.
Man's best bird friend spreads winter cheer.
There is plenty of folklore around robins, probably due to their curiosity and friendliness around people. Throughout history and across many countries the robin has been linked with charity, compassion, good luck, bad luck, fire and death. Many stories attempt to explain the origin of his red breast, the most common associated with the birth and death of Christ. When Jesus was crucified on the cross, a robin flew down and removed a thorn from the crown on his head (or sang to him) to relieve his suffering. The blood of Jesus stained his throat and chest, and ever since Robin’s breast has been red.
In a similar tale, a robin flew into the stables where the newborn Jesus and Mary slept. The bird noticed the fire had almost gone out, and while fanning the embers, singed his breast feathers. Mary blessed him for his courage, and when his feathers grew back they remained red in recognition.
An alternate legend has it that its breast was scorched fetching water for souls in Purgatory. Just a few of the many good deeds robins are said to have accomplished. Acts of kindness by robins also featured in the poems of Wordsworth, Blake and other romantic poets. According to the Babes in the Wood folktale and poem, robins were believed to cover the dead with moss, leaves and flowers.
Robin’s special connection with winter could be because they are most visible right now; the shortage of food makes them tame and they puff out their feathers against the cold.
Is this why robins are associated with death in pagan beliefs? In Celtic traditions, now is the time when the Oak King triumphs over the Holly King who represents the death and darkness that has ruled since Samhain (Halloween). At the Winter Solstice, the Oak King is reborn and begins a new cycle of life and lightness. The killing of the wren ties in here: the wren is the King of the Waning Year, slain by Robin Redbreast, the new King of the Waxing Year.
More than any other bird, the robin is now part of Christmas today. Just look at all the ornaments and cards displaying robins! It’s believed that robin got its name from the red coats worn by Victorian Postmen. When Christmas cards became popular, they often featured postmen, known then as ‘robins’. Robins were originally called ruddocks but the new name better conveyed their sprightly friendly nature. That did not stop people killing the birds to obtain real feathers for decorating cards.
Finally – if you’re keen to ward off bad karma in 2010 – make a wish on the first robin you see before it flies away. And remember, it’s always bad luck to kill a robin or destroy its nest!
Of course there are many more birds connected with Yuletide, but if you go into your garden, or down to the Lagan, you might just spy Cock Robin and Jenny Wren in all their glory. (plus six geese a-laying, swans, turtledoves etc)
See below for some robin and wren songs of old.
Cock Robin and Jennie Wren – This is about 30 verses long but the gist of it is that robin is crooning to that sly seductress Jenny Wren when he is shot with an arrow. A court is convened and a variety of birds are brought to the witness stand, but nobody knows a thing. Jenny comes to court, and just as the wise old owl judge is about to hang all the witnesses, Cupid shoots an arrow and confesses to wounding, but not killing, robin, who is revived by a repentant Jenny. For the whole soap opera, go to: http://fairytales4u.com/fable/cockrobi.htm
The Wren Song The wren, the wren, the king of all birds, St. Stephen's Day was caught in the furze, Although he was little his honour was great, Jump up me lads and give him a treat.
Chorus:
Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
And give us a penny to bury the wren.
As I was going to Killenaule, I met a wren upon the wall.
I took me stick and knocked him down,
And brought him in to Carrick Town.
Droolin, Droolin, where’s your nest?
Tis in the bush that I love best
In the tree the holly tree,
Where all the boys do follow me.
We followed the wren three miles or more,
Three mile or more three miles or more.
At six o’clock in the morning.
I have a little box under me arm, Under me arm under me arm. I have a little box under me arm, A penny or tuppence would do it no harm.
The Wren She Lies in Care’s Bed In this old Scots song the wren represents winter and the robin summer. As winter dies with the coming of the New Year, robin cares for the ailing wren.
The wren lies in her sickbed In much misery and pining When in came robin redbreast With breads in sugared water and wine Robin says, ‘will you sip this?” And you’ll belong to me No, not a drop, robin For it has come too late
YOUR WINTER BIRD SONGS VERY WELCOME!
Photos provided by RSPB and Lagan Valley Regional Park