
I hope everyone had as wonderful a Christmas as I did yesterday, and you enjoy today's holiday as well. St. Stephen's Day is a national holiday in Ireland, with a tradition that goes like this:
On the day after Christmas groups of Irish boys would hunt for a wren, and chase it until they caught it, or it died from exhaustion. Then they would tie it to a holly bush decorated with colored paper, and go door to door dressed in old clothes (often women's dresses), blacken their faces with burnt cork, and collect money for the funeral. As they approached each house they would sing
The Wren Song, and hope to collect some money. If the homeowner gave some to them they gave a feather from the bird, which was supposed to bring good luck.
Why does this somewhat brutal ritual mean anything to me? When I was a kid my all too Irish mother had some Clancy Brothers albums, and one of them included several children's songs - including
The Wren Song. I can still remember the words, and sing it to myself from time to time.
The wren, the wren, the king of all birds
St. Stephen's Day was caught in the firs
Although he was little, his honor was great
Jump up me lads and give us a treat
We followed the wren three miles or more
Three miles of more, three miles or more
Through hedges and ditches and heaps of snow
At six o'clock in the morning
Rolley, Rolley, where is your nest?
It's in the bush that I love best
It's in the bush, the holly tree
Where all the boys do follow me
As I went out to hunt and all
I met a wren upon the wall
Up with me wattle and gave him a fall
And brought him here to show you all
I have a little box under me arm
A tuppence or penny will do it no harm
For we are the boys who came your way
To bring in the wren on St. Stephen's Day
~MET