Ag Fiach an Dreoílin: Hunting the Wren

So it is 2pm on St.Stephen's Day and so far there has been no sign of any persons coming to hunt the wren. I used to do it when I was younger but have not in years. It would be nice to see somebody coming to hunt the wren this year but I will not hold my hopes too high. I shall however recant my story of the how the Wren became the King of all the Birds. This story is of cunning and how the underdogs do sometimes win out.

The Birds of the World were arguing amongst themselves as to who was to be their King. The great Eagle with its magnificant poise and royal crown of white and noble yellow beak, exclaimed that he was the King as he was the biggest of all the birds present. Needless to say, this was disputed by some of the other birds. The Owl, whose self confirmed wisdom advised that his wisdom would ensure that he was the King of the Birds and would rule wisely. The Robin red-breast piped up that his breast & array of colours ensured that he was the most noble for the position. As all this arguing was continuing, the little wren listened the squalling that was ongoing, but kept quiet as it intensified.

The Birds of the World decided that the best way to find out who would be King was to have a competition to see who could fly the longest and highest. All of the Birds of the World agreed to this competition and the stage was set for the crowning of the King of the Birds for a mid-winter's morning. The birds all left to rest and prepare for the competition. The little wren remained thinking about the competition, and how he could win it.

The morning of the Competition arrived. A cool crisp landscape had landed on the day with the sun just breaking through the mist fog that had descended in the night. The noble Eagle with his golden beak and white crown arrived first, followed by the wise Owl. The Red Breasted Robin arrived, his red plumes glistening in the morning sunlight. Finally the little wren arrived still wondering how he would win the competition. He decided to nestle down for a nice nap before the competition begun.

Meanwhile, all the rest of the birds of the world arrived and got ready for the competition. The signal for the start of the competition was the sun arising over the crest of the furthest mountain. An Air of excitement built up among the Birds of the world as the sun begun its ascent into the morning sky.. As the first rays of the sun began to appear over the furthest mountain, the birds of the World took flight en masse in a such verosity that the Sun's rays of light were temporarily blocked by their flight ascent.

The Birds of the World continued to climb and climb, longer and higher until it begun to claim the first of its casualties. The red breasted Robin, with its red plumes was the first to fall, unable to continue the ascent bowed out of the race. Next the wise Owl, who had been keeping pace with the noble Eagle begun to show the strains of the competition and flew until he could fly no more. He then bowed out of the race.

The Noble Eagle looked quiet smug as he watched his competitors falling off one by one and continued to fly for longer and further as the rules they had agreed to stated. Finally when the Noble Eagle was assured that there was no longer any more competition around the place, he began his descent to claim his throne.

The little wren woke up suddenly to the jolt of a descent only to realise that he had slept for the whole race. However he then realised he fell asleep on the back of the Noble Eagle. He then jumped off the Eagle's back and begun to ascend and circle the lands, as the Noble Eagle began to descend. Once the the Noble Eagle had landed, and was ready to accept the defeat of the rest of the Birds of the World, the little wren descended among all of the Birds of the World. All were stunned to see how the size of the little wren had lasted against the test, that had seen so many fail. However they were forced to concede defeat to the little wren and the Wise Owl, the Red breasted Robin and the Noble Eagle all bowed to the King of all the Birds.


(EDIT: to take in account for comments)

The wren is surprisingly associated with treachery perhaps to do with the sneaking on board the eagles back. It is accredited with betraying Irish soldiers whom were fighting the advance of Norsemen, by beating their wings on their shields. The killing of the first of the Christian martyrs, St. Stephen, was apparently betrayed by the wren and this is one of the traditional reasons why the wren is hunted on St.Stephen's day. The procession song which goes with the hunting the wren goes something like this

'The wren, the wren, the king of all birds
On St. Stephen's day was caught in the furze.'

Another possibility for this rational, is that the wren in irish is "dreoilín" or 'draoi ean', which is a derivative of druids. A druid was a traditional healing man in the times of the olden tribes of Dé Danan and the Dál Cais. However with the advance of Christianity in Ireland, their influence declined. As such, the dreoilín became hunted as associated with the old ways and needed to be rid of. In traditional times, the wren would have been hunted and killed and brought around while singing in the areas. Personally (and thankfully!) I have never done that part of the ritual and it has died out in recent years.