BIRD SACRIFICE THE custom of slaying the wren is widespread in France also. But the chants that deal with it dwell, not like ours, on the actual hunt, but on the sacrificial plucking and dividing up of the bird. Moreover, the French chants depend for their consistency not on repetition like ours, but are set in cumulative form. Both in contents and in form they seem to represent the same idea in a later development. At Entraigues, in Vaucluse, men and boys hunted the wren on Christmas Eve, and when they caught a bird alive they gave it to the priest, who set it free in church. At Mirabeau the hunted bird was blessed by the priest, and the curious detail is preserved that if the first bird was secured by a woman, this gave the sex the right to jeer at and insult the men, and to blacken their The Breton chant on "plucking the wren," Plumer le roitelet begins:— Nin' ziblus bec al laouenanic Rac henÈs a zo bihanic " bis. (L., I, p. 72.)
and Another poem preserved in Breton relates how the wren was caught and caged and fed till the butcher and his comrades came and slew it, when the revelry began (L., I, p. 7). I have often wondered at the cruel sport of confining singing birds in cages. Possibly this goes back to a custom of fattening a victim that was sacrificially slain. For the wren is tabu in Brittany as among ourselves, and in popular belief the nestlings of each brood assemble with the parent birds in the nest on Twelfth Night, and must on no account be disturbed. This reflects the belief that the creature that is slain during the The wren is not the only bird that was sacrificially eaten in France, judging from the chants that are recorded. A chant on "plucking the lark," Plumer l'alouette, is current in the north of France which begins:— Nous la plumerons, l'alouette, Nous la plumerons, tout de long. (D. B., p. 124.)
And it enumerates the bird's beak, eyes, head, throat, back, wings, tail, legs, feet, claws. A variation of the same chant is sung in Languedoc, where it is called L'alouette plumÉe, "the plucked lark," and is described as a game (M. L., p. 457). Again, the dividing up of the thrush forms the subject of a chant which is sung in Brittany in the north (L., I, p. 81), and in Languedoc in the south. It is called DÉpecer le merle, and preserves the further peculiarity that the bird, although it Le merle n'a perdut le bec, le merle n'a perdut le bec, Comment fra-t-il, le merle, comment pourra-t-il chanter? Emai encaro canto, le pauvre merle, merle, Emai encaro canto, le pauvre merlatou. (M. L., p. 458.)
The chant then enumerates the bird's tongue, one eye, two eyes, head, neck, one wing, two wings, one foot, two feet, body, back, feathers, tail; always returning to the statement that the bird, although it is divided up, persists in singing. The French word merle stands both for thrush and for blackbird. The blackbird is held in reverence among ourselves in Salop and Montgomeryshire, and blackbird-pie was eaten in Cornwall on Twelfth Night. Sing a song of sixpence, a bagful of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pye And when the pye was open'd, the birds began to sing; Was not this a dainty dish to set before the king? The king was in his parlour counting out his money, The queen was in the kitchen eating bread and honey, The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes, Up came a magpie and bit off her nose. (c. 1783, p. 26.) The magpie is "a little blackbird" in the version of Halliwell, which continues:— Jenny was so mad, she didn't know what to do, She put her finger in her ear and cracked it right in two. Halliwell (1842, p. 62) noted that in the book called Empulario or the Italian Banquet of 1589, there Again, the robin redbreast was sacrificially eaten in France at Le Charme, Loiret, on Candlemas, that is on February the first (Ro., II, 264). There are no chants on the sacrifice of the robin in France, as far as I know. Among ourselves, on the other hand, where no hunting of the robin is recorded, a piece printed both by Herd Guid-day now, bonnie Robin How lang have you been here? I've been bird about this bush, This mair than twenty year! Chorus: Teetle ell ell, teetle ell ell. Tee, tee, tee, tee, tee, tee, tee, Tee, tee, tee, teetle eldie. But now I am the sickest bird That ever sat on brier; And I wad make my testament, Guidman, if ye wad hear. "Gar tak this bonnie neb o' mine, That picks upon the corn, And gie 't to the Duke o' Hamilton To be a hunting horn. "Gar tak these bonnie feathers o' mine, The feathers o' my neb, And gie to the Lady o' Hamilton To fill a feather-bed. "Gar tak this guid right leg o' mine And mend the brig o' Tay; It will be a post and pillar guid, It will neither ban nor gae. "And tak this other leg o' mine And mend the brig o'er Weir; It will be a post and pillar guid, It'll neither ban nor steer. "Gar tak these bonnie feathers o' mine The feathers o' my tail, And gie to the Lady o' Hamilton To be a barn-flail. "Gar tak these bonnie feathers o' mine The feathers o' my breast, And gie to ony bonnie lad That'll bring me to a priest." Now in there came my Lady Wren With mony a sigh and groan; "O what care I for a' the lads If my wee lad be gone?" Then robin turned him round about E'en like a little king, "Go, pack ye out at my chamber door, Ye little cutty quean." (Chambers only). Robin made his testament Upon a coll of hay And by came a greedy gled And snapt him a' away. (1870, p. 40.) The Robin's Testament should be compared with the French piece called Le Testament de l'Ane, "the testament of the ass," of which a number of variations have been collected. The "testament of the ass" was recited outside the church on the so-called One of these dialogue pieces, current in Franche-ComtÉ, describes how the she-ass, conscious of the approach of death, bequeathed her feet and ears to her son, her skin to the drummer, her tail to the priest to make an aspergill, and her hole to the notary to make an inkpot (B., p. 61). Another "The feast of the ass," in the words of Bujeaud, "must have been very popular, since I have often heard the children of Angoumais and Poitou recite the following piece ":—
We then read of the throat which stands for the entrance to the cathedral—the body for the cathedral itself—the four legs, its pillars—the heart and liver, its great lamps—the belly, its alms-box— This chant on the parts of the ass is among the most curious survivals. At first one feels inclined to look upon it as intended to convey ridicule, but this idea is precluded by the existence of The Robin's Testament, and by the numerous pieces which enumerate the several parts of the bird in connection with the bird sacrifice. Again in this case we are led to look upon the piece as a garbled survival of some heathen form of ritual. The ass, however, was not known in Western Europe till a comparatively late period in history. It has no common Aryan name, and the question therefore arises how it can have come to be associated with what is obviously a heathen form of ritual. Mannhardt, with regard to German folk-lore, pointed out that the ass was substituted in many places for the hare, which was tabu, and with which it shared the peculiarity of having long ears. This substitution was favoured by their likeness of name: heselÎn, heselken. (M., p. 412.) We Dicky among ourselves is applied to a bird, especially to a caged (? perhaps a sacrificial) bird; the word Dicky is also widely applied to an ass, properly to a he-ass. In Scotland the word cuddy again stands both for an ass and for some kinds of bird, including the hedge-sparrow and the moor-hen. The MÄten ist ein Esel, der zieht die Kuh am Besel. (B., p. 363.)
These various survivals support the view that the ass in Western Europe somehow got mixed up with the birds. When and how this came about is difficult to tell. The representatives of |