On the morning after Christmas, men and boys in straw masks carried a dead wren through the parish on a staff dressed with holly and ribbons, playing music at every door but one. The bird was the king of all birds, it was taboo to harm it, and this was the single day of the year on which it was killed. Nobody can say why.
Held across rural Ireland into the mid-twentieth century, then thinned by industrialisation and by changing feeling about the bird. Revived since the late twentieth century without the hunt.
The wren the wren the king of all birds
St Stephen's Day was caught in the furze
Her clothes were all torn — her shoes were all worn
Up with the kettle and down with the pan
Give us a penny to bury the “wran”
If you haven't a penny, a halfpenny will do
If you haven't a halfpenny, God bless you!
Collected at Edmondstown, County Dublin, and recorded in the Schools' Collection (Volume 0797, page 44). There are as many versions as there were townlands; the last two lines turn up in English begging rhymes too, including 'Christmas is Coming'. Dúchas — the Schools' Folklore Collection ↗
The bird was held in real reverence. The ninth-century Cormac's Glossary derives the Old Irish drean from druí-én, “druid bird”, and calls it a bird that makes prophecies; another early text names it the magus bird, “because some take auguries from it”. Harming a wren was taboo — on every day but one.
What follows are the explanations people gave. They cannot all be right, and that is the point: the stories contradict each other because they were invented long afterwards to account for something already old.
A wren is said to have roused the guards as Stephen tried to escape from captivity, which is why the bird is hunted on his day. Another version gives Stephen a pet wren, stoned to death alongside him.
Possibly the earliest written reference to a wren hunt at all: a medieval Irish legend in which the saint curses the wren to be hunted by the young, for eating his pet fly.
That a wren drummed on a soldier's drum, or beat its wings, and gave away an Irish force about to spring an ambush. The enemy is given variously as the Vikings, Cromwell's army or the Williamites — which is a good sign that the story is older than any of them and keeps being re-pointed at the most recent invader.
The widespread European fable: the birds agree that whoever flies highest is king, and the wren hides in the eagle's feathers and pops out above him at the top. In some Irish versions the wren must pay for the title, or is put under a geis never to fly higher than a bush — and in Irish story, a king who breaks his geis dies for it.
The Manx account. A fairy woman enchanted every man on the island into following her, and drowned them in the sea; when a hero finally found a way past her charms she turned into a wren and escaped, cursed to reappear as one each year.
The folklorists' reading. Edward Armstrong noted that the bird was revered yet killed at one season only, its feathers kept as talismans, its body buried with respect, and both bird and chief hunter given a royal title — the marks of a sacrifice. Others read the wren as the old king or the old year, killed at midwinter so the year can begin again. Christina Hole called every one of the tales above a rationalisation of a rite older than Christianity.
The wren hunt was not only Irish. It was kept wherever, as one folklorist put it, Celtic tradition was firmly entrenched — and in a few places that were not.
Lá an Dreoilín, 26 December — St Stephen's Day. Groups of men and boys in straw masks and motley, the Wrenboys, carried a wren on a decorated staff from house to house with drums and fifes, collecting money, food and drink to bring each household luck for the year. The money paid for a dance. It survives today in a handful of places, above all Dingle in County Kerry, and no bird is hunted any more.
Nobody knows, and the folklorists say so. There are at least six competing stories — that a wren woke St Stephen's guards, that one ate St Moling's fly, that one betrayed an Irish ambush to the Vikings or to Cromwell, that it cheated the eagle to become king of the birds. Edward Armstrong argued that the sheer inconsistency of the tales shows the rite is far older than any of them, and reads its features as those of a sacrifice.
From a fable told all over Europe: the birds agree that whoever flies highest will be king, and the wren hides in the eagle's feathers, then pops out above him at the top. In Irish versions the wren pays for the title — put under a geis never to fly higher than a bush.
No. The hunt itself died out through the twentieth century, and where Wren Day has been revived — Dingle most famously, and on the Isle of Man — a fake or stuffed wren is carried instead. The parades now generally raise money for charity or for a Wren Ball.
A begging song sung at each door, with as many versions as there were townlands. One collected at Edmondstown in County Dublin begins: “The wren the wren the king of all birds / St Stephen's Day was caught in the furze”, and ends “If you haven't a halfpenny, God bless you!”
Mainly in the south of Ireland — Dingle in County Kerry keeps the biggest of them — and on the Isle of Man, where Hunt the Wren was revived in the 1990s. Related midwinter wren rites were kept in Wales, England, France and Galicia.
Did the Wrenboys come to your door? This is a custom that survives in living memory far better than it survives in books — the tune, the words your parish used, the year it stopped. Tell us what you remember.
Add what you remember →The Irish year · Nollaig na mBan · St Patrick's Day · Saints & feast days