It’s my tradition each year to celebrate the season with historically themed Christmas carols — and so here you go: “Baldwin, it’s cold outside!” Set to the tune of “Baby it’s cold outside,” by Frank Loesser, this cover deals with the first super bad Viking raid in Western Europe. In 793, the pagan Norsemen attacked the esteemed monastery of Lindisfarne. They enslaved, drowned, or killed the monks, and plundered all the (unguarded) treasures, like the jeweled Bible covers (they left the inside pages, though). The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle recorded that this attack must have been divine retribution for sins, and that something foul was portended because dragons had been seen in the sky and odd storms had been raging.
Baldwin It’s Cold Outside (to “Baby It’s Cold Outside”)
We really can’t stay
Baldwin it’s cold outside
We’ve gotta go away
Baldwin it’s cold outside
The whirlwinds have been
The Norsemen have just dropped in
Blasting like ice
Raid Lindisfarne due to our vice
The monks should begin to worry
They need to leave in a hurry
Polluted steps trod upon our floor
Listen to the bloodthirsty roar
So really we’d better scurry
Scriptorium topsy-turvy
Not ceasing the Vikings want more
Enslaving us and making us poor
The Heathens did think
Baldwin it’s bad out there
That they wanted to sink
The monks in the sea out there
We wish we knew how
To stop them raiding somehow
They want our books
But just covers, ’cause of their looks
We all cry “no you monsters!”
They bum-rushed us in the cloisters
At least they left the parchment inside
Let’s take Cuthbert and then go hide
We really can’t stay
Chaos all about it
Baldwin it’s cold outside
We simply must go
Baldwin it’s cold outside
There’s no tomorrow
And Baldwin it’s cold outside
This damned year has been
Justice of all of our sins
We saw the signs
Dragons appeared in wavy lines
The portents were all suspicious
Gosh this ruin is malicious!
Our brothers there at the door
Are saying here come ten more
Vikings’ sharp axes are vicious
Hope they don’t find us delicious
Well maybe if we pray some more
God’s never let this happen before
(Sed ora pro nobis)
We’ve got to leave home
Baldwin we’ll freeze out there
Now we’re monks on the roam
Beware all the ships out there!
They’ve all come to land
We weep when they’re on our sands
But we don’t see
How can there be any reprieve?
What’s bound to happen tomorrow?
So many in life-long sorrow!
At least we can get if we try
This saint’s body before we die
We really can’t stay
Wand’ring monks all about
Baldwin it’s cold
Baldwin it’s cold outside
