John Rutter

The Wind in the Willows, Brother Heinrichs Christmas and The Reluctant Dragon are
published by Hinshaw Music, Inc. (P.O. Box 470, Chapel Hill, North Carolina 27514)
for the USA, and by Oxford University Press (Great Clarendon Street, Oxford,
OX2 6DP, England) for all other countries.
The Wind in the Willows and The Reluctant Dragon were originally recorded by
Masterchord Records and Tapes Ltd. and released on the Masterchord label.
Collegium Records acknowledges with thanks Masterchords permission for their use.
Brother Heinrichs Christmas was originally released on the Collegium album Hurry to
Bethlehem.
2

HIS RECORDING GATHERS TOGETHER three musical fables

that I wrote at different times, with children and eavesdropping
adults especially in mind. The Reluctant Dragon and The Wind in the
Willows, both adapted by David Grant from Kenneth Grahame stories,
were commissioned for Christmas concerts given by the Kings Singers and
the City of London Sinfonia; The Reluctant Dragon was premired in 1978,
The Wind in the Willows in 1981. Brother Heinrichs Christmas followed in
1982, written for a Christmas TV special from Salisbury Cathedral. The
story as well as the music is my own, built around the legend that the lovely
carol In dulci jubilo was first sung by angels who miraculously appeared to
the medieval monk Heinrich Suso one Christmas Eve.
I look back on these three childrens projects with particular fondness
and pleasure, not least because of the marvellous performers involved in
them: two most distinguished narrators, Richard Baker and Brian Kay; the
versatile and ever-brilliant Kings Singers (friends of mine since they first
got together in far-off Cambridge days); another Cambridge friend, Richard
Hickox, and his City of London Sinfonia that I have worked with on so
many happy occasions; and, of course, the Cambridge Singers, who have
sung with me on almost every Collegium recording.
JOHN RUTTER
3

BROTHER HEINRICHS CHRISTMAS (19' 17")

Story and music by John Rutter
Brian Kay (narrator) The Cambridge Singers City of London Sinfonia
conducted by John Rutter
11
12

with music by John Rutter

13

The Wind in the Willows Brother Heinrichs Christmas

The Reluctant Dragon

15

Total playing time 69' 24'

14
16
17
18

THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS (28' 20")

Introduction
Sigismund sings in the abbey choir
Sigismund is dismissed
Brother Heinrich and the new carol
The angels appear on Christmas Eve
Brother Heinrich writes down the Angels Carol
Christmas morning
The Angels Carol and Christmas dinner

Words by David Grant, based on a story by Kenneth Grahame

THE RELUCTANT DRAGON (21' 27")

Richard Baker (narrator) The Kings Singers City of London Sinfonia

Rat: Anthony Holt
Mole: Alastair Hume
Badger: Colin Mason
Toad: Bill Ives
Magistrate: Simon Carrington
Gaolers daughter: Jeremy Jackman
conducted by Richard Hickox

Words by David Grant, based on the book by Kenneth Grahame

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10

Introduction
Rat and Mole meet: A life on the river
Scene at Badgers house
Toads car
Court scene
Toad in gaol: Let me tickle your fancy
Toads song: Ive got style
The recapture of Toad Hall: Lets wallop a weasel
The banquet at Toad Hall
Finale: Home is a special kind of feeling

Richard Baker (narrator) The Kings Singers City of London Sinfonia

Boy: Jeremy Jackman
Dragon: Bill Ives
Saint George: Anthony Holt
Master of Ceremonies: Simon Carrington
conducted by Richard Hickox
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26

Introduction
The boy visits the dragons cave
The villagers and St George arrive
Trio: I say, old boy
Planning the tournament: First he waves his spear around
The tournament
Banquet fugue
Finale: Lets begin again

In his little wooden boat? Rapture!

All: Cucumber sandwiches, savoury relish,
Pat with truffles and cranberry jelly,
Ham and tongue and beef and gooseberry pie:
Oh my!
Mustard and cress and Russian salad,
Banbury cakes and sugary doughnuts,
Brandy snaps and fudge and bottles of squash:
Oh gosh!
Hard-boiled eggs, peaches and cream,
Apricot flan, lemon meringue,
Venison pasty with walnuts and grapes
Cut up in convenient little wedge shapes
Just so!
Mole and Chorus: My hearts all a-shiver pit-a-pat!
It feels all a-shiver pat-a-pit!
My hearts all a-shiver ooh!
Just to be in a boat on the river
Floating down the stream!
With the sighing of the breeze ooh!
And the birdies in the trees quack, quack!
Rat, Mole and Chorus: Now I ask, did you ever in
your life
See two happier fellas blissful!
Than Rat and Mole afloat heigh ho!
In their little wooden boat? Heaven!
Narrator: And so the two contented animals made their
way slowly up the river to Rats house. Rat spent the
summer and the autumn showing Mole the sights of the
River Bank, and introducing him to all his friends
except for one . . . the rather grumpy Mr Badger, who
lived in the Wild Wood.
Couldnt you invite him to dinner? asked Mole.
He wouldnt come, said Rat. Simply hates society.
Well then, why dont we go and call on him? suggested
Mole.
Its a long journey, replied Rat. But perhaps we should
pay him a visit, especially as Christmas is coming on.
So one cold December day they set off together through
the Wild Wood till they reached Badgers house.

THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS

1 Introduction
All: Listen to the sound of the wind in the willows
Whispering through the branches and the leaves.
Come away and listen to a story of long ago and far
away;
When the river murmured its magical music to the
scented breeze.
Listen to the echo of soft distant voices calling us away.
Narrator: Hang spring cleaning, said Mole, flinging
down his whitewash brush. Bother and blow, said
Mole, and he bolted out of the house, without even
waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was
calling him into the sunlight and away . . . across the
meadows and alongside the copses . . . trotting along the
river bank where, all of a sudden, he sat down, entranced
and bewitched. As he sat on the grass and looked across
the river, he became aware of a bright little star winking
at him from the opposite bank. The star became an eye,
and then there was another eye . . . then a small brown
face . . . with whiskers.
2 Rat and Mole meet
Rat: Hallo, Mole!
Mole: Hallo, Rat!
Rat: I was just going off for a trip down the river
would you like to come?
Mole: Well . . . Im not sure . . .
Rat: Oh come on, old chap just step into the boat;
Now you really are afloat!
Put the picnic hamper under your seat,
Sit back, relax, therell be plenty to eat!
Rat and Chorus: A life on the river me oh my!
Yes, a life on the river my oh me!
Why, a life on the river oh my, oh me!
Thats the life to set my heart all a-quiver ooh!
With the splashing of the oars splish, splosh!
And the buzzing of the bees bzz, bzz!
Now I ask, did you ever me oh my!
See a happier fella my oh me!
Than a fella whos afloat heigh ho!

Conceited and boastful and weak in the head,

Hell go to the bad and then soon hell be dead:
What can we do to prevent him from falling?
Rat: Last month he bought a gipsy caravan
In bright canary yellow.
Badger: Oh no! Not bright canary yellow!
Rat: The colours surely bad enough,
But worse was still to follow.
Badger: Alack!
Mole: I think that Oxford did for him
All those aesthetic parties!
Badger: I disapprove of parties.
Field mice: Our Dad says Toad gets drunk
On brandy balls and Smarties.
Badger: Hold your tongue!
Rat and Badger: Its a problem, its a problem,
Its a terrible, terrible problem!
Rat, Badger and Mole: Its a problem, etc.
Rat: This month, I think you must have heard:
Its motor cars and speeding. . .
At more than twenty miles an hour!
His reckless folly as he drives
To tragedy is leading.
Badger: How true!
Mole: The countryside is now no longer safe;
His motorings a menace!
Field mice: Our grandma says . . .
Badger: Shush!
Rat, Mole and Badger: Well have to do something
about Mr Toad,
His conduct is truly appalling.
Hes foolish and fickle and easily led,
Conceited and boastful and weak in the head,
Hell go to the bad and then soon hell be dead;
What shall we do?
Field mice: Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen;
Brightly shone the moon that night . . .
The first Nowell the angel did say . . .

3 Scene at Badgers house

(Rat knocks on the door of Badgers house.)
Badger: Go away!
Rat and Mole: But Badger, its us, Rat and Mole!
Badger: Why, come in, come in! I thought you were
those confounded field mice carol-singing again. . .
Come in, come in, and sit by the fire. (They enter.)
(Two field mice knock loudly.)
Field mice (outside): We wish you a merry Christmas,
We wish you a merry Christmas,
We wish you a merry Christmas . . .
Badger: Oh confound you, wretched field mice! I
suppose youd better come in.
Field mice: Oh thank you, Mr Badger, sir, thank you!
Badger: You may later sing one verse of some brief
soothing carol. . . for the moment be silent while I talk
with Mr Rat and Mr Mole. Now tell me, dear Rat: what
is the news of the outside world? And in particular, what
of our reckless young friend Toad?
Rat: Theres nothing new about the Toad
Except his latest crazes.
Badger: Alack! A prey to foolish crazes . . .
Rat: There is no end to what hell find;
His stamina amazes.
Badger: Amazes?
Mole: I blame his parents such well-intentioned folk
but then, alas, they spoiled him.
Badger: I feel they must have spoiled him.
Field mice: Our auntie says 'e tried to knock the village
policemans helmet off, but then they foiled him!
Badger: Be silent!
Rat and Badger: Its a problem, its a problem,
Its a terrible, terrible problem!
Rat, Mole and Badger: Its a problem, its a problem,
What a terrible, terrible problem!
Well have to do something about Mr Toad,
His conduct is truly appalling.
Hes foolish and fickle and easily led,

Rat, Mole and Badger: Well sort him out, well put him
right,
Well set him straight, well lecture him,
Well get him on the rails
And bash him up if all else fails,
Yes, thats what well do to prevent him from falling.
Field mice: On the first day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree . . .
Rat, Mole and Badger: Be off!
Narrator: And thats how things were left. Rat and
Mole returned home the next day, determined to save
Toad from the dreadful consequences of his new motor
car craze.
4 Toads car
Narrator: The rest of the winter passed quietly, but one
morning, quite early in the spring, all three animals
happened to be standing in a peaceful lane near the river
bank when they heard a most terrible commotion in the
distance. Sure enough, it was Toad; he jumped down
from his car.
I say you chaps, he said, what do you think of her?
Straight eight, with sleeve valves, of course . . . family
crest on the door . . . does nearly fifty downhill!
Badger interrupted sternly. Toad, you unhappy
creature!
Me unhappy? exclaimed Toad. What a lot of rot you
do talk, Badger. Why, Im the happiest creature alive!
The open road . . . the smell of hot oil . . . If you chaps
cant recognize the coming thing when you see it, then
Im afraid progress wont wait for you, and no more shall
I . . . Must be off! See you all up at my place some time.
And with that, Toad started the car up again and drove
off. But that wasnt the end of it, as Im afraid we shall
see . . .
5 Court scene
Usher: Silence! Silence in court!
Magistrate: Never in all my time as a magistrate . . .
never in all the long years Ive served on this bench . . .

never has been seen a creature more abjectly despicable,

a Toad more steeped in the molasses of criminality, more
tarred with the glue of felonious turpitude than the
hardened criminal we see melting like a fly-blown
marshmallow before our averted eyes. Pull yourself
together, prisoner! Be a man, and prepare to hear your
sentence! You shall be taken from this place and be flung
into the deepest, darkest and most vile-smelling dungeon
that the resources of the County Gaol can provide. And
there you shall languish, on the first count stealing a
motor car ten years; on the second count driving in a
most reckless and dangerous manner fifteen years; on
the third count insulting a policeman twenty years.
And in view of the seriousness of the offences and the
hardened criminality of the felon, I order that these
terms of imprisonment be served both consecutively and
concurrently . . . Take him away!
Narrator: Toad, abject and downcast, was led roughly
away by two horny-handed gaolers and thrown into the
nastiest of dungeons with nothing for company save the
occasional spider, and no solace save that provided by a
tin mug of brackish water and the stale crusts thrown to
him from time to time . . . and, oh, I nearly forgot the
rather comely and kind-hearted daughter of one of the
gaolers. Let us eavesdrop as she attempts to rally the
starving and disconsolate felon . . .
6 Toad in gaol
Gaolers daughter: Let me tickle your fancy, Toad:
Nice bowl o tripe?
Cant you work up an appetite?
How about liver an lights?
Fish is good for the brain, they say;
Like some bloaters in brine?
Toad: Some other time . . .
Gaolers daughter: Dont you fancy things salty, then?
Well, Toad-in-the-hole tastes simply divine!
Faggots is nice all swimming in grease
Dont you fancy a few?
Toad: I dont think I do . . .
Gaolers daughter: Want to try something new?

Well theres cold jellied eel

With a nice slimy feel.
Pigs trotter and sheeps head brawn
Tastes all juicy and fine;
Toad: I can just imagine . . .
Gaolers daughter: Wash it down with a glass or two
Of me home-made senna pod wine!
Sweetbreads and kippers with spinach for veg
Takes your appetite over the edge.
Black pudding and dumplings, then,
Just walk up and help yourself again and again!
I bet you I got a few treats you never sampled before . . .
Toad: No thank you!
Gaolers daughter: And you can always come back for
more . . .
Narrator: Nothing the gaolers daughter had to offer
seemed to rouse him. But like all great men of history,
his single-mindedness saw him through. He escaped by
exchanging clothes with a humble washerwoman.
7 Toads song
Narrator: Let us join him as he makes his way back to
Toad Hall, a sadder and a wiser Toad . . . Im not sure
thats true, actually, but perhaps Id better let you be the
judge; here he is.
Toad: Ive got style, Ive got chic,
Ive got charisma, Ive got mystique:
All my friends tell me so,
And after all, they ought to know.
Such an air debonair!
Such sophisticated savoir-faire!
So dgag, so lite,
The people come and cheer me when I walk down the
street.
Toad and Chorus: Im the Toad, Im the greatest!
I set the style its the latest!
So stay awhile and Ill tell you how
In the strictest confidence
I get called by Scotland Yard;
They have to bring me in when a case gets too hard.
Einstein took lessons from me;

I showed him that mc squared equals e; Eureka!

Mozart and Schubert and Ludwig van B.
Would have had a lot more hits if they had studied with
me!
Michelangelos drawing was absolutely appalling;
If Toad had done the Sistine ceiling
You would find it more appealing.
Toad is the greatest! You said it!
Genius is really the word
It occurred to us.
A knighthood should be conferred
At the Palace?
On Toad well! O.K., make it a peerage.
Toad: So I hope you get the message loud and clear;
If you cant resolve a problem, why, just bring it here.
Pluck up courage, dont be shy;
Galileo made the big time cos he gave me a try!
When Newton saw that apple drop from the tree;
Well, he asked me what it meant and I said:
Chorus: Thats gravity!
Toad: Science and invention are mostly due to Professor
Toad.
Chorus: Hes too good to be true!
Toad and Chorus: Toad is the greatest;
Chorus: We know it;
So lets get the show on the road,
And salute the phenomenal.
The fabulous, fantastic,
Toad: Sensational, successful,
Scintillating, superstar Toad!
Chorus: Toad, Yeah!
8 The recapture of Toad Hall
Badger: Unhappy animal! Homeless reprobate!
Dispossessed dissolute!
Toad: Steady on, old chap! Its only me, your old friend,
Toad! Why hallo, Rat! Hallo Mole! Why dont you all
come down to my place for a spot of luncheon?
Badger: Luckless Toad! You no longer have a place!
While you were in prison, Toad Hall was invaded by the
weasels, the ferrets and the stoats.

Toad: Oh horror! Catastrophe appalling! Oh misery!

Oh injustice! Now Im ruined! Alack!
Badger: Now listen to me, Toad: all is not lost,
undeserving though you are; I have a plan. We must arm
ourselves with knives, with cudgels, and with pistols of
alarming aspect; gain entry to Toad Hall by a secret
tunnel, then we advance upon the weasels and the ferrets
and the stoats, brandishing our weapons and singing a
ferocious and blood-curdling chorus.
Rat, Mole and Toad: A ferocious and blood-curdling
chorus?
Badger: Indeed; with solos by Toad. The weasels, the
ferrets and the stoats will all flee in abject and mortal
terror! Comrades, advance!
Badger, Rat, Mole and Toad: Lets wallop a weasel,
lets strangle a stoat!
Lets frazzle a ferret or two have em by the throat!
Twist their arms and pull their necks until their eyes go
pop;
Toad Hall is Toads hall lets go over the top!
Mole: Tiptoe up the staircase . . .
All: Tiptoe, tip!
Badger: Potter down to the pantry . . .
All: Pit-pat-pit!
Rat: Back again to the foot of the stairs,
Badger: Catch the villains unawares,
Mole: Lay them neatly out in pairs,
Toad: Listen while they say their prayers,
All: Lets go over the top!
Pin em up by the ears, chaps,
Spear em down to the floor!
Weaselburger and chips
Is a treat we all adore!
Rat: Shred the stoats in little bits,
Toad: Lets have a ferret chop!
All: Its weasel-whackin good,
So, lets go over the top!
(Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!)
Mole: Watch it! There goes a weasel!

All: Thunk! Thunk! Splat!

Toad: Strike him! Yes, its a stoat!
All: Got him! Squashed him flat!
Rat: Ferret by the door there,
Hed look more peaceful dead!
All: Yes, Toad Hall is Toads hall;
Have we taken care of them all?
Badger: Search behind the garden wall!
Toad: Didnt I hear a weasel call?
Two weasels : Blimey, lets get out of here quick!
Rat, Mole, Badger and Weasels: Hes gone over the
top!
Narrator: Every last weasel, ferret and stoat fled in
panic and disorder, and Toad Hall was once more
Toads. Badger lectured Toad sternly, reminding him
that his folly and boastfulness had nearly cost him his
liberty and his home, and Toad promised to mend his
ways. The next night a celebration banquet was held at
Toad Hall, and everyone made merry. It was nearly
midnight when Badger rose to his feet and addressed the
assembled company.
9 The banquet at Toad Hall
Badger: My friends, this is a happy occasion.
All: Hear, hear!
Badger: Toad Hall, lately fallen into the evil hands of
the weasels, the ferrets and the stoats, has finally been
restored to its rightful owner. I give you the toast: hearth
and home!
All: Hearth and home!
Badger: And now I call upon our good friend, Mr Toad,
to make a brief reply.
All: Hear, hear!
10 Finale
Toad: I could never have come back
If it hadnt been for you, my friends;
A house can seem empty, so you wander,
And you think youve no friends . . .
There are so many things that I never really saw before,

10

But I think that I can see them clearly now:

The kettle on the hob,
The chestnuts in the fire,
The slippers by the rocking-chair
And woodsmoke drifting through the air . . .
I think that perhaps . . .
Its time that perhaps . . .
I started, perhaps,
To think about settling down.
All: Home is a special kind of feeling:
The feeling of a place where you belong;
A feeling that the world is left behind you
Like a shelter from your care
That seems to want you to be there.
Home is that special kind of feeling:
The feeling that youve made it all your own;
Somewhere which you know is really your place;
A place for living,
Your special place, your home.
Home has a welcome kind of feeling
The firelight and the warmth of hearth and home;
A welcome that you know will always cheer you
Like a gentle fond hello
That seems to touch you with a glow.
Home has a quiet kind of feeling:
An island when you need to be alone;
A haven for the times you spend together.
Theres nowhere better;
No other place like home.
Narrator: Mole caught Rats eye; Rats eye caught
Badgers eye. Each knew what home meant to the other.
Nobody managed to catch Toads eye, but then Toads
eye was roving and resting lovingly on every detail of his
home: worth a thousand gipsy caravans, worth a million
motor cars, thought Toad.
(Words by David Grant)

11

BROTHER HEINRICHS CHRISTMAS

11 Introduction
Narrator: Once upon a time, in an old stone monastery
set in a hillside covered with vines, there lived a monk
called Brother Heinrich. Brother Heinrich wasnt like all
the other monks who lived in the monastery. They used
to spend their time together working in the monastery
vineyards, looking after the vines, picking the grapes, and
making wine. The wine from their monastery was the
finest and juiciest in all the land, and people came from
far and wide to try it. Brother Heinrich had to help make
the wine too, but he worked by himself except, that is,
for Sigismund. Sigismund was the donkey who worked
the winepress that squeezed the grapes. The winepress
stood in a little cobbled courtyard, and Sigismund had to
walk round and round the courtyard all day, pulling a
long wooden arm that made the winepress work.
Brother Heinrich put the grapes in and waited for the
grape juice to trickle out into a big stone jar. When the
jar filled up, he took it away to the cellars and fetched
back an empty one. It was rather boring work for both of
them, but they didnt mind. Brother Heinrich like to talk
to Sigismund, and Sigismund liked to listen; sometimes
he would answer Brother Heinrich in a friendly sort of
way. Brother Heinrich talked about all sorts of things:
how to eat wine jelly without it falling off your spoon,
how to stop the mice biting your toes when youve got
sandals on . . . but most of all he liked to talk about
music. Brother Heinrich loved music. He knew how to
play lots of different instruments, even difficult ones like
the harp and the sackbut, and he was good at singing too;
in fact he sang so well that the Abbot had put him in
charge of the monastery choir. Every day, when it was
time for work to finish, Brother Heinrich took Sigismund
back to his stable, gave him some hay, wished him
goodnight, and hurried off to choir practice. But he felt
sad that Sigismund was left out, so sometimes he let him
come along to choir practice and sing with the choir.
Sigismund liked that very much. He stood on his hind
legs in the choir stalls and tried hard to follow the music
just like all the others in the choir. Brother Heinrich lent
him an old pair of spectacles so he could read better.

Sigismund felt very important. He joined in all the songs

that the choir sang, though sometimes his voice did stick
out a bit.
12 Sigismund sings in the abbey choir
Choir: Resonemus laudibus
cum jocunditatibus,
ex Maria Virgine . . .
Narrator: One day, when Brother Heinrich and
Sigismund were working as usual at the winepress, one
of the other brothers came running up to them.
Brother Heinrich, he said, still out of breath, the Abbot
wants to see you immediately. Brother Heinrich
groaned. The Abbot, who was the head of the
monastery, was always complaining and interfering, and
when he wanted to see people it usually meant trouble.
Oh, want does he want, Brother Joseph? asked Brother
Heinrich.
I dont know but youd better hurry, answered Brother
Joseph. So Brother Heinrich hurried off to the Abbots
room and knocked at the door.
Come in! said the Abbot, rather sourly. He was sitting
at his desk, reading a long and important-looking letter.
He looked up. Brother Heinrich, he began, I have just
received this letter from the Archbishop. He tells me that
he will be travelling through this part of the country on
important business at Christmas time, and hed like to
come in person to our Christmas morning service and
Christmas dinner afterwards. The Abbot looked cross.
He didnt like the Archbishops visits very much because
they meant lots of cleaning and tidying and telling
everyone to be on their best behaviour. The other monks
didnt mind, though. The Archbishop was plump and
jolly and he never seemed to notice even if things were a
bit untidy. He often happened to be travelling through
their part of the country on important business at
Christmas; the monks always opened their very best wine
on Christmas Day, and the Archbishop liked to try it, just
to make sure it was as good as last years.
The Archbishop himself will be at our Christmas
morning service, continued the Abbot, The choir is

your responsibility, Brother Heinrich. You must make

sure that they sing better than they have ever sung
before.
Ill do my best, promised Brother Heinrich.
And one thing more, said the Abbot. That ridiculous
donkey must be dismissed from the choir. Whatever will
the Archbishop think if he sees a donkey singing in our
monastery choir? Itll make a laughing stock of us all.
Besides, he can only sing two notes, ee and aw.
Thats not fair, Father Abbot! protested Brother
Heinrich. Brother Ignatius has been in the choir for fifty
years and he can only sing one note, and its nearly
always the wrong one . . .
Not another word, interrupted the Abbot. The donkey
must go, and thats final.
13 Sigismund is dismissed
Narrator: Brother Heinrich felt very sad as he walked
back to the little courtyard where Sigismund was still
walking round and round; he didnt want to tell him the
bad news. He cleared his throat.
Sigismund, the Archbishop is coming to our Christmas
morning service, he began. But . . . but . . . Im afraid
the Abbot says . . . you cant sing in the choir any more.
Sigismund carried on walking round and round. Oh
well, he thought to himself, I suppose I never did have
much of a voice anyway.
Brother Heinrich tried to cheer him up. I promise Ill
tell you how the rehearsals go, and Ill teach you all the
new songs we do . . . But they both knew it wouldnt be
the same.
14 Brother Heinrich and the new carol
Narrator: Rehearsals began for the special Christmas
morning service. Brother Heinrich stood in front of the
choir beating time with a twig and singing very loudly.
They practised hard every day, but somehow nothing
seemed to go right. Secretly everyone missed Sigismund.
Soon the monks in the choir started to complain.
Were bored with these stupid songs, said one of them.
Nothing but the same old Christmas carols year after

12

year, said another.

Its all your fault, young Heinrich, grumbled Brother
Ignatius, who had been in the choir for fifty years and
thought it wasnt like to used to be. You musicians are
all the same: sitting around dreaming about your
precious music. If you ask me you dont know the
meaning of an honest days work.
Youre supposed to be so good at music, said one of the
younger monks; well, why dont you write us a new
carol so we wont have to do all the same old ones over
again?
Yes, write us a carol! cried everyone together, except for
Brother Ignatius, who preferred the old carols anyway.
But Ive never written a carol before! protested Brother
Heinrich.
Well, youll just have to do your best, said the others; a
new carol will make all the difference to the Christmas
service.
So Brother Heinrich cut himself a new quill from an
eagles feather and laid in a supply of fresh parchment.
Every night he sat down at the desk in his little room to
try and write his new carol. He tried and tried . . . all
sorts of ideas came into his head, but somehow none of
them was quite right.
Christmas drew nearer and nearer, and Brother Heinrich
still hadnt written his carol. What am I going to do,
Sigismund? he cried in despair. The choir say that they
must have the new carol so they can practise it, and the
Abbot has got to hear about it and keeps asking if Ive
written it yet.
Sigismund looked at him sympathetically.
Brother Heinrich kept on trying but he still couldnt seem
to write his new carol. Finally Christmas Eve came. All
day he paced up and down his room and scribbled
frantically, while Sigismund, whose work was over for
the season, sat in a corner watching anxiously. By the
evening there was still nothing on the parchment but
crossings-out.
Its no good, Sigismund, he said sadly. Ill have to give
up. Looks as if it isnt going to be a very merry

13

Christmas for either of us: the Abbot doesnt want you in

the choir any more, and now the choir isnt going to want
me any more because I cant write their new carol.
Come on, Id better put you in your stable for the night.
15 The angels appear on Christmas Eve
Narrator: The two of them walked slowly side by side
across the courtyard and towards the stables. It was a
bright starry night, and the only sound to be heard was
the clip-clop of Sigismunds hooves across the
cobblestones. At least, Brother Heinrich thought it was
the only sound to be heard.
Stop a minute, Sigismund, he said. Listen . . . can you hear
something? Sigismund stopped and pricked up his ears, then
he shook his head and walked on again. Sigismund, there is
something. Listen, it sounds like singing.
This time Sigismund heard it too. It was singing, and at
first neither of them could see where it was coming from.
Then, as the sound of the singing drew nearer, they did
see where it was coming from and they couldnt believe
their eyes. A little way in front of them was a big circle
of very bright light, so bright that at first their eyes were
dazzled and they couldnt see anything else. Then, as
they got used to the light, they saw what it really was:
angels, more of them than you could ever count, all in
shining white robes, dancing round in a ring and singing.
Angels: In dulci jubilo
Now sing with hearts aglow!
Our hearts joy reclineth
In praesepio
And like a bright star shineth
Matris in gremio
Alpha es et O,
Alpha es et O!
Narrator: Brother Heinrich and Sigismund stood there
amazed. Then one of the angels stretched out its hands
towards them, inviting them to join in their dance.
Brother Heinrich and Sigismund felt a little shy, but soon
they were whirling round holding hands with the angels.
Sigismund never thought hed get excited about going
round and round in a circle, but suddenly it was the
loveliest feeling he could ever imagine.

going to have the new carol to sing to the Archbishop

after all that, as a special concession, he said he would
allow Sigismund to sing in the choir again, just this once.
Brother Heinrich was overjoyed. He ran off to tell
Sigismund, who could hardly believe his good fortune,
and the two of them hurried along to choir practice. The
choir rehearsed the angels carol till it was perfect. By
now it was almost time for the Christmas service to
begin, and they all took their places in the choir stalls just
before the Archbishops solemn procession arrived. The
service went beautifully, and everyone was very excited
when the moment came for the angels carol.
18 The Angels Carol and Christmas dinner
Choir: Ubi sunt gaudia
If they be not there?
There are angels singing
Nova cantica,
And there the bells are ringing
In Regis curia;
O that we were there,
O that we were there!
Narrator: At the Christmas dinner afterwards, the
Archbishop declared that it had been the best Christmas
service he could ever remember. He told the steward that
he thought the wine was also the best he could remember,
but he wasnt quite sure so hed better taste a little more
so he could make up his mind. At last the Archbishop
rose to his feet, rather unsteadily, to make his customary
speech.
My friends, he said, this has been a very special
Christmas for us all. Your Abbot tells me that the fine
new carol we heard this morning was sung to Brother
Heinrich by the angels. If it be so, it is surely a miracle
and we should thank God for it. As for the donkey that
sings in the choir, your Abbot fears I might think him a
strange sight. Well, my friends, there are times the
Archbishop looked at his wine glass when I see sights
far stranger than a harmless donkey singing in a choir.
Long may he continue a member! Though he only sings
two notes, there are surely times when those two notes
are exactly the right ones. Brother Heinrich and Sigismund

Angels: Alpha es et O,
Alpha es et O!
Narrator: The bright light faded, the singing stopped,
the angels disappeared; and all that was left was Brother
Heinrich lying dizzy and breathless on the ground, with
Sigismund beside him.
16 Brother Heinrich writes down the Angels carol
Narrator: Did it really happen, Sigismund? wondered
Brother Heinrich. That was such a beautiful song the
angels sang. If only I could write a carol just like that we
could sing it at the Christmas service tomorrow . . .
Sigismund, why dont we sing the angels carol at the
Christmas service? If I go and write it down now we can
practise it first thing in the morning and itll be ready for
the service. Ill tell the choir the angels sang it to me!
Brother Heinrich rushed back to his room with
Sigismund clip-clopping close behind him. He sat down
excitedly at his desk, dipped his quill in the ink pot and
started writing out the angels carol as fast as he could go,
sprinkling sand on the parchment every so often to help
the ink dry.
A terrible thing had happened: he couldnt remember
how the tune ended. He tried all sorts of different
endings but none of them was the same as the angels had
sung. Oh Sigismund, wailed Brother Heinrich, were
not going to be able to do the angels carol after all I
cant remember the last bit . . . See, the tunes no use
without an ending.
What was that, Sigismund? Brother Heinrich clapped
his hands. Sigismund, thats it! Now I remember how
the tune ends!
Brother Heinrich quickly wrote down the last bit of the
tune in case he forgot it again, then the two of them
danced round and round the little room singing the
angels carol till they both fell asleep exhausted.
17 Christmas morning
Narrator: Early next morning Brother Heinrich ran to
find the Abbot and tell him everything that had
happened. The Abbot didnt believe a word of the story
about the angels, but he was so relieved that they were

14

smiled secretly to each other.

So, my friends, concluded the beaming Archbishop,
Gods blessing upon this house, and upon all the good
work that is accomplished here the Archbishop eyed
his wine glass again and a merry Christmas to one and
all!
Do you think he knew about how you finished the
angels carol for me? said Brother Heinrich to Sigismund
as he led him back to his stable afterwards. But
Sigismund only answered the same way he always did.
That night the two friends both went to sleep very happy
and still thinking about their wonderful experience with
the angels. They were sure of one thing: it had been the
very best Christmas they had ever had.
(Words by John Rutter)

THE RELUCTANT DRAGON

19 Introduction
Narrator: This is the story of a boy, a saint, and a
dragon. It happened one Christmas-time long ago, when
the world was different, and there were more dragons
about than there are nowadays; although nothing much
has really changed. People are still people, good and bad;
boys are still boys; and you can still find the occasional
dragon or can you? Listen, and see for yourself.
All: Once upon a time, a time long ago;
Dream days and dragon days when life was full of
magic,
There lived a shepherd and his son all alone.
Each day and every day the shepherd watched his sheep;
Each day and every day the boy sat reading and
dreaming:
Reading myths and legends of the wonders of the world.
Knights in shining armour bearing banners all unfurled;
Tales of elves and goblins and the spirits of the woods;
Monsters in the sea and monsters on the land, and
dragons!
How he longed to meet a real, fierce, fiery dragon!
A fire-breathing, fearsome, fabulous, fairy-tale,
Scaly, taily, green-bodied, red-eyed dragon.
Narrator: And sooner than expected his chance came.
One night the shepherd came home all of a tremble.
Its all up with me! he exclaimed. Never more can I go
up on them there downs! You know that cave up there?
Well, I saw this creature sticking halfway out of the cave.
As big as four cart horses and all covered with shiny
scales!
The boy yawned. Its all right, father . . . dont you
worry. Its only a dragon. He wont give us any trouble.
Ill go up there and have a talk with him.
So, after tea, he did.
20 The boy visits the dragons cave
All: Out through the cottage door and skip across the
yard
Went the boy with his head full of dragons breathing
hard.

15

Up along the village street and down beyond the inn:

At last his chance had come for real adventure to begin.
Up across the hillside all crisp and frosty white:
Down the winding woodland path the boy ran swiftly
through the night
To the secret hiding place, the fearsome fiery dragons
lair;
What adventure, what excitement, feels like magic in the
air!
Now at last hell know the answers to a plethora of
puzzles:
Does the dragon say his grace and such before he chews
and guzzles?
Does he use a table napkin or a knife and fork and
spoon?
Does he wash his claws and whiskers carefully when he
dines at noon?
When he tries to eat an ice-cream does his fiery
breathing melt
All the ice and cream and send it trickling down his scaly
pelt?
If he sniffs at plants and flowers does he make the
blossoms droop?
Does he singe his hair and whiskers when he blows upon
his soup?
By the time the boy had reached the highest point among
the hills
He was dreaming all of dragons and their instant damsel
grills:
Do they kill before they grill or do they like to hear the
screams
Of their gently roasting victims spitted right along their
seams?
And in case you all are thinking that this subjects done
to death
Well, dont worry, we shall stop now cos weve all run
out of breath.
Narrator: And sure enough, just outside a small but
comfortable cave in the hillside, a dragon lay stretched
out, purring contentedly.
The boy approached . . . rather nervously . . .

Boy: Good evening, dragon.

Dragon: Good evening, good evening, good evening!
Can you think of a rhyme for moon?
Boy: How about June?
Dragon: Splendid, splendid, splendid! Ive tried
baboon, pontoon and macaroon but they all lack
something . . . Im a poet you see. Would you like to
hear one of my early efforts?
Huff, little dragon through your little baby nostrils,
Huff, my little scaly one, and light papas cigar.
Snort, little fellow, with your little baby dragon snout,
Blowing steamy bubbles through your honey in the jar.
What do you think?
Boy: Well, yes . . .
Dragon: Mind you, I also cultivate a more contemporary
style: heres a passage from my Three Quintets:
Seething pitch and betting slips
Coagulate the battleships . . .
21 The villagers and St George arrive
Dragon: But hark! What do I hear in the distance?
Villagers: We want the dragon! Scrag im, do im, chop
is ead off!
We want the dragon! Scrag im, spike im, cut is froat!
We got St. George and is orse and sword and buckler;
When St. George as done wiv im, e wont be worth a
groat!
We want the dragon! E's bin lootin, rape and pillagin!
We want the dragon! Es bin scorching all the crops!
St. Georgell spike the perisher, the awful scaly ravisher;
St. Georgell swoosh is great big sword an thump im
round the chops!
Dragon: Oh how uncouth, how vulgar! How
unutterably awful!
And it doesnt even rhyme! But who is this?
St George: Saint George, at your service! The hour of
reckoning has come, sir! Never more shall you wreak
your terror upon these poor simple folk! What weapons
do you choose?

16

Dragon: Weapons, dear fellow? None, dear boy! Cant

fight, wont fight! Anyway, why must I be defeated?
St George: Because its in the story!
22 Trio
St George: I say, old boy, look here, old chap, youve got
to do your stuff,
Its not British, its not pukka just to sit there in a huff;
So pull yourself together, man, and strike a stoic pose!
I have read the Army manual and Ill show you how it
goes.
Dragon: Army manual! Stoic poses! Stuff and
nonsense! Dont you see?
Im a literary dragon; not a drop of fight in me.
All my Sturm and Drang is pantomime; I wouldnt hurt
a fly.
If youre going to cut up rough then Ill just sit down here
and cry!
Boy: Stupid dragon! Cant you think of what a noble
sight thered be:
Nostrils flaring, scales a-flashing, armour glinting,
banners waving, dont you see?
St George: Its a case of King and Country, do or die,
show the flag:
With a gin and t. to brace you itll soon be in the bag!
Every chap with any feeling feels a quivering of his lips
When the fighting is all over and the foe has had his
chips.
All: But what shall we do?
Dragon: Ive no wish to fight you.
St George: And frankly, old chap, I dont want to fight
you either!
All: So what shall we do?
Boy: Why dont you rig the fight?
Dragon and St George: Why dont we rig the fight?
Boy: Thats right!
Dragon and St George: Yes, why dont we rig the fight?
What a splendid idea! But how?
Boy: Oh, let me show you!

23 Planning the tournament

Chorus: With a one and a two and over to you!
Boy: First he waves his spear around,
St George: Yes, I wave my spear around,
Dragon: Ah! He waves his spear around; oh! How
aesthetic!
Boy: Then his charger paws the ground,
St George: Yes, me charger paws the ground,
Dragon: Ah! His charger paws the ground; my! How
athletic!
Boy: Now you let him have a burst
St George: Right, you let me have a burst,
Dragon: Oh! Ill give him quite a burst; how
pyrotechnic!
Boy: Then you both begin to lunge,
St George: Good! We both begin to lunge.
Dragon: Nice! Lets have a jolly lunge so stimulating!
Boy: Then he sticks you in the gut
St George: Wow! I stick him in the gut?
Dragon: What, he sticks me? Tut, tut, you nasty person!
Boy: No, its just a bag of tricks
St George: Make it look as though it sticks
Boy: So the crowdll get their kicks.
Dragon: I hope youre certain!
Chorus: And now, Mr Jackman, take it away!
Boy: (sings scat)
Chorus: Mr Ives!
Dragon: (sings scat)
Chorus: Now Mr Holt!
St George: (sings scat)
Chorus: Second half!
Boy: Now you speed it up from there:
St George: Feint and lunge and claw the air,
Dragon: Wave your sword all debonair Ive got the
feeling.

17

Boy: Make it nasty, make it mean,

St George: Make it start to sort of seem
Dragon: Like we meant it what a dream, oh the
emotion!
Boy: Then you screw it up to pitch
St George: Till the crowd begins to itch
Dragon: For a killing, for a victory, for curtains!
Boy: Yes, but youre the one they want
St George: Spitted neatly through the front!
Dragon: We must fix it so it looks
We must be certain!
Boy: Never fear, St George will do it,
St George: Yes theres really nothing to it: wheres a bit
of you with no sensation in it?
Dragon: You could pin me in the wing; see, its really
only skin,
Boy: Thats the place, St G., so take it to the limit!
Chorus: The limit, just about the limit!
All: And now we all know what to do. Oooh!
Narrator: And not a moment too soon. Already it was
time for the tournament to begin, and a crowd of
villagers had gathered.
24 The tournament
Villagers: We want the dragon! Scrag im, do im, chop
is ead off!
We want the dragon! Scrag im, spike im, cut is froat!
Master of Ceremonies: Silence, pray silence, ladies and
gentlemen! On my left, the fearsome, fiery dragon! And
on my right, the fearless St George! Right now, gentlemen.
Im sure I neednt remind you that we are observing
Kings Rules. On the word of command charge!
Round one no hits; a draw! Round two: take your
marks charge!
St George: Come, fiery fiend, your doom is sealed; Your
fell career is at an end, sir!
Dragon: Seal on, you animated scarecrow! Come let
me roast you like a capon!

St George: My sword your lips shall soon extinguish!

Dragon: It might if youd the strength to lift it, putrid
puppet!
St George: Mangy monster!
Dragon: Feeble, faint-hearted, feather-brained,
frivolous, ferret-faced, flea-bitten, festering fool!
Master of Ceremonies: Round two: Dragon wins on
points! Round three, and the last round. Take your
marks charge!
Dragon: Aargh! Alas, I die!
Villagers: Hooray! St George has vanquished the
dragon!
Boy: Oh Dragon, are you really hurt?
Dragon: Not a scratch dear boy didnt I do it well!
Boy: Shush, theyll hear you! Just keep acting . . .
Villagers: Well now, I reckon all this vanquishing
deserves a celebration: lets have a banquet! Yes, yes, lets
have a banquet!
Narrator: So that night there was a great banquet. Im
not certain if he was actually invited, but the dragon
went along too, and even took some of his poetry, just in
case anyone asked him to read it. Everyone feasted and
drank.
25 Banquet fugue
All: Guzzle, guzzle, munch, munch, gobble, gobble,
chomp, pass the salt and the pepper and the mustard and
vinegar and the bread Theres a fly in my soup! Well, it
wont drink much sir! Fetch the doctor, Im feeling rather
strange. Guzzle, guzzle etc.
26 Finale
Two villagers: Ey! Just a minute whats the dragon
doin ere?
All: I thought St George had slain im once and for all.
Cut off his ead!
St George: Cut off his head? I cant do that! Hes a jolly
good chap. Ill give him a stern talking to: now that
should do the trick instead! Why dont we let bygones be
bygones turn a new leaf make another start? After

18

all, dragons arent so bad if you just get to know them a

bit; and besides, its nearly Christmas . . .
All: So lets begin again; try another way;
Lets begin again; theres a better way.
Rule a line and start once more;
Learning from whats gone before.
Lets begin again;
Lets find a way to start again.
So can we get it right this time? Possibly.
Another chance in sight? Take things easily.
Is there time to care again;
Time to hope and share again?
Is it all too late?
Too late to try it out again?
The starlight in the skies and the moonlight;
The firelight in your eyes and the candlelight
Evry creature softly bless,
Touching each with tenderness,
Helping us to see,
To see a better way ahead.
The snow upon the downs wraps things silently;
Nothing mortal shows; lets step carefully.
Make new tracks together,
Walk hand in hand;
And never run and hide;
The paths that we must tread lie side by side.
Narrator: So at length the banquet ended. They set off
up the hill arm in arm, the saint, the boy and the dragon.
The lights in the little village began to go out; but there
were stars, and a late moon, as they climbed the downs
together. Soon they reached the top, and it was time for
their ways to part. They stood silent for a moment; then
wished each other goodnight; and a merry Christmas.
(Words by David Grant)

The Kings Singers:

Jeremy Jackman (countertenor)
Alastair Hume (countertenor)
Bill Ives (tenor)
Anthony Holt (baritone)
Simon Carrington (baritone)
Colin Mason (bass)

The Cambridge Singers:

Sopranos
Caroline Ashton
Ruth Holton
Celia Jackson
Marcelle Mace
Simone Mace
Mary Mure
Nancy-Jane Thompson
Clare Wallace
Altos
Nicola Barber
Phyllida Hancock
Diana Hawker
Mary Hitch
Nicola-Jane Kemp
Melanie Marshall
Caroline Trevor
Tenors
Andrew Gant
Paul Gordon
Jock Graham-Campbell
Philip Sheffield
Angus Smith
Basses
Gerald Finley
Charles Gibbs
Nicholas Jones
James Mure
Charles Pott
Benjamin Thompson
David Watson
Russell Watson

19

CSCD 513
STEREO DDD
Made in Great Britain

The Wind in the Willows and The Reluctant Dragon were recorded at
Roundhouse Recording Studios, London, in June 1983
(producer: Chris Hazell, sound engineer: John Gallen,
assisted by Neil Hutchinson).
Brother Heinrichs Christmas was recorded in the Great Hall of
University College School, London, in April 1985, by the
BBC Transcription Unit (producer: Jillian White;
balance engineer: Campbell Hughes)
Cover design: Elaine Pamphilon
Layout: Nick Findell
P this compilation 1991 Collegium Records
C this compilation 2003 Collegium Records

20