Comparative Studies in Nursery Rhymes

He eat more meat than four-score men.
He eat a cow, he eat a calf,
He eat a butcher and a half;
He eat a church, he eat a steeple,
He eat the priest and all the people.

    (c. 1783, p. 43.)
To which some collections add: —

And yet he complained that his belly was not full.

Other pieces dilate on Robin and Richard as lazy in starting, and on Robin, whose efforts as a huntsman were attended with ill luck: —

Robin and Richard were two pretty men,
They lay in bed till the clock struck ten:
Then up starts Robin, and looks at the sky,
Oh! brother Richard, the sun's very high.
You go before, with the bottle and bag,
And I will come after, on little Jack Nag.

    (c. 1783, p. 42.)
Robin-a-Bobbin bent his bow,
Shot at a woodcock and killed a yowe [ewe];
The yowe cried ba, and he ran away,
And never came back till Midsummer day.

    (1890, p. 346.)
Halliwell saw a relation between the huntsman of this verse and the bird robin, since the robin was reckoned to disappear at Christmas and not to return till Midsummer. As a matter of fact, the robin leaves the abodes of man and retires into the woodland as soon as the sharp winter frost is over. However this may be, the presence of the wren and of the robin was mutually exclusive, as we shall see in the pieces which deal with the proposed union, the jealousy, and the death of these two birds.

CHAPTER XVI

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 faces with mud and soot if they caught them. At Carcassonne, on the first Sunday of December, the young people who dwelt in the street of Saint-Jean went out of the town armed with sticks and stones to engage in the hunt. The first person who struck the bird was hailed king, and carried the bird home in procession. On the last of December he was solemnly introduced to his office as king; on Twelfth Day he attended mass in church, and then, crowned and girt about with a cloak, he visited the various dignitaries of the place, including the bishop and the mayor, in a procession of mock solemnity. This was done as late as 1819.[67 - Rolland, loc. cit., II, 295 ff.; Frazer, loc. cit., II, 445 ff.] This identification of the bird and the men explains the hiring of a cart or waggon to convey "the bird" in our own custom-rhymes.

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.)

"We will pluck the beak of the wren, for he is very small," and continues, "We will pluck the left eye of the wren, for he is very small".

and then enumerates right eye, left ear, right ear, head, neck, chest, back, belly, left wing, right wing, left buttock, right buttock, left thigh, right thigh, left leg, right leg, left foot, right foot, first claw of left foot and every claw in succession of this and of the other foot. The last sentence is "We will pluck the tail of the wren," and then sentence after sentence is repeated to the first, "We will pluck the beak of the wren because he is very small, we have plucked him altogether."

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 winter solstice, at its close starts on a new lease of life.

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.)

"We will pluck the lark, we will pluck it altogether."

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 is divided up, persists in singing. The version current in Languedoc begins: —

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 thrush has lost his beak, how will he manage to sing, and yet he sings, the poor thrush, yet he goes on singing."

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.[68 - Thomas, N. W., "Animal Superstitions" in Folk-Lore, September, 1900, p. 227.] But there is no reference to the sacrificial slaying of the bird, as far as I am aware. In the French chant the bird continues to sing although it is killed. The same idea finds expression in our nursery song of Sing a Song of Sixpence. This piece, taken in conjunction with the eating of blackbird-pie in Cornwall and the French chants, seems to preserve the remembrance of the ancient bird sacrifice. The first verse of this rhyme appears in the collection of 1744, in which "naughty boys" stands for blackbirds. In other collections the piece runs as follows: —

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 is a receipt "to make pies so that the birds may be alive in them and fly out when it is cut up," a mere device, live birds being introduced after the pie is made. One cannot but wonder if the device was a mere sport of fancy, or if it originated from the desire to give substance to an ancient belief.

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[69 - Herd, David, loc. cit., II, 166.] and Chambers suggests his sacrifice. The piece is called by Chambers The Robin's Testament, and it describes how the bird, on the approach of death, made a bequest of his several parts, which he enumerated exactly in the way of the sacrificial bird-chants current in France. They were his neb, feathers of his neb, right leg, other leg, feathers of his tail, and feathers of his breast, to each of which he attributed a mystic significance. The piece in the combined versions stands as follows: —

Guid-day now, bonnie Robin