The wren, smallest of the European native birds holds the title in folklore of being a king among birds. Old tales give accounts of a contest between the birds to choose a king based one which of them could fly the highest. The wren hid itself on the eagle's back and was the victor.
The wren was widely held to be sacred and killing the bird was unlucky. In Ireland it was known as the druid's bird. The hunting of the 'Cutty Wren' appears to have originated in Ireland and Wales but was also once known in Surrey and Oxfordshire. It was practised on Saint Stephens Day (Boxing Day - December 26), New Year's day or Twelfth Night.
The hunting of the sacred bird seems to be linked to midwinter customs of misrule and reversal, a time when it was acceptable to sacrifice the wren for the good of the community. In the past the 'cutty wren' was used as an excuse for destruction of wildlife and door to door begging which has fallen out of favour for several obvious reasons.
The tradition has left us with several good folksongs. The folksongs can be used in context in the form of a simple play requiring a model of a wren (the bigger the better) a 'canon' and a cloth under which the wren can be buried. At the words in the last refrain 'the cutty wren jumps up' the wren can be brought back to life.
The King
Joy health love and peace
Be all here in this place
By your leave we will sing
Concerning our king.
Our king is well dressed
In silks of the best
In ribbons so rare
No king can compare
We have travelled many miles
Over hedges and styles
In search of our king
In his praise we sing
We have powder and shot
To conquer the lot
We have cannon and ball
To conquer them all.
Bold Midsummer is past
Hallowe'en is the last
We bid you adieu
Great joy to the new
Hunting the Wren
Where are you going said Milder to Mulder
We may not tell you said Festill to Foes
We're hunting the Cutty Wren said John the Red Nose
We're hunting the Cutty Wren said John the Red Nose
How will you kill him said Milder to Mulder
We may not tell you said Festill to Foes
With bows and with arrows said John the Red Nose
With bows and with arrows said John the Red Nose
That will not do then said Milder to Mulder
What will you do then said Festill to Foes
Big guns and cannon said John the Red Nose
Big guns and cannon said John the Red Nose
How will you bring him home said Milder to Mulder
We may not tell you said Festill to Foes
On four strong men's shoulders said John the Red Nose
On four strong men's shoulders said John the Red Nose
That will not do then said Milder to Mulder
What will you do then said Festill to Foes
Big carts and wagons said John the Red Nose
Big carts and wagons said John the Red Nose
How will you cut him up said Milder to Mulder
We may not tell you said Festill to Foes
Knives and with forks said John the Red Nose
Knives and with forks said John the Red Nose
That will not do then said Milder to Mulder
What will you do then said Festill to Foes
Hatchets and cleavers said John the Red Nose
Hatchets and cleavers said John the Red Nose
Who'll get the spare ribs said Milder to Mulder
We may not tell you said Festill to Foes
We'll give them all to the poor said John the Red Nose
We'll give them all to the poor said John the Red Nose
(Mock hunt and battle to a steady drum beat, a canon is fired to kill the 'wren'. Wren paraded briefly by four people. Meat from inside the wren is shared out. Then the wren is buried under a green cloak.)
Cutty Wren Reborn
Cutty Wren, Cutty Wren is buried and dead
Hee haw buried and dead
There grew and old apple tree over his head
Hee haw over his head
The apples are ripe and ready to fall
Hee haw ready to fall
There came an old woman to gather them all
Hee haw gather them all
Cutty Wren, jumps up and gives her a knock
Hee haw gives her a knock
Which makes the old woman go hippety hop
Hee haw hippety hop
The saddle the bridle they lie on the shelf.
Hee haw hippety hop
If you want any more you can sing it yourself.