It was an ancient superstition that the robin took charge of the dead, especially of those who died by inadvertence.
The proposed union of the robin and the wren forms the subject also of a story that was taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Begg, the sister of the poet Burns. She was under the impression that her brother invented it. It describes how the robin started on Yule morning to sing before the king, and of the dangers, in the form of Poussie Baudrons, of the grey greedy gled, of Tod Lowrie, and of others, he encountered by the way. He sang before the king and queen, who gave him the wee wren to wed. Then he flew away and sat on a briar (1870, p. 60). There is no sequel.
In all these stories the wren is described not as a cock-bird, but as a hen-bird, which is incompatible with the idea of kingship that is expressed by the bird-chants. Perhaps the idea of the kingship is the older one. For in the legend told in the Isle of Man as an explanation of the custom of killing the wren, this bird is described as a fairy, that is, of the female sex, and legends that are intended to account for a custom are necessarily of a more recent date than the custom which they explain. The wren in Normandy also is sometimes spoken of as a hen-bird, La poulette du bon Dieu, God Almighty's hen. One custom-rhyme current in Scotland directly associates the bird with the Lady of Heaven:—
Malisons, Malisons, mair than tens,
That harry the Ladye of Heaven's hen.
(1870, p. 186.)
There is another toy-book relating the proposed union of the robin and the wren, which leads up to the death of the robin. It is called The Courtship, Marriage, and Picnic Dinner of Cock Robin and Jenny Wren, and was first issued by Harris in 1810. In this book other animals took part in the ceremony. The cock blew the horn, the parson rook carried Mother Hubbard's book, the lark sang, the linnet, the bullfinch, and the blackbird all officiated. A picnic dinner followed, to which the raven brought walnuts, the dog Tray brought a bone, the owl brought a sack of wheat, the pigeon brought tares, and so forth. The enjoyment was at its height—
When in came the cuckoo and made a great rout,
He caught hold of Jenny and pulled her about.
Cock robin was angry and so was the sparrow,
Who now is preparing his bow and his arrow.
His aim then he took, but he took it not right,
His skill was not good, or he shot in a fright,
For the cuckoo he missed, but cock robin he killed,
And all the birds mourned that his blood was so spilled.
The cuckoo, it will be remembered, was the bird of the god Thor, and the enemy of matrimonial bliss.
This story of a bird-wedding does not stand alone. From France and Spain come a number of pieces which similarly describe the proposed wedding of birds and end in disaster. In Languedoc one is called Lou mariage de l'alouseta, "the wedding of the lark." It begins:—
Lou pinson et l'alouseta
Se ne voulien maridà.
(M. L., p. 490.)
"The spink (or finch) and the lark intended to marry. On the first day of the wedding they had nothing to eat."