Songs

I enjoy writing songs, but many of them end up being for specific occasions so they only get sung once. For the most part, I use pre-existing music partly to make things easier and partly to get some resonance for the audience with the associations of the tune.

Dickon's Lament

Where are the arms that held me tight
And rocked me in my crib?
My mother's arms so warm and white
That held me 'neath her rib?

O hush now child, be still, be still
Those arms will hold no more
They carried a bow against the foe
For your mother's gone to war.

Where are the eyes that once held mine
With love and pride and joy?
My mother's eyes that brightly shone
To see her own wee boy?

O hush now child, be still, be still
Those eyes will shine no more
Down arrow's length they've spent their strength
For your mother's gone to war.

Where is the voice I held so dear
That sang me to my rest?
My mother's voice, low, sweet and clear
The voice that I loved best?

O hush now child, be still, be still
That voice will sound no more
In lullaby or battle cry
For your mother's gone to war.

Notes

I wrote the lyrics of this piece for my son Dickon, who was three weeks old at the time of the Pen Gwynne War (AS28) wherein I fought (and died) in the mixed combat. Some months later Pagan le Chaunster (now known as Dame Alys de Wilton), put it to music. It sounds a bit like When Johnny Comes Marching Home, in the honorable tradition of Child ballads that all sound self-similar. If you'd like to try and figure out the tune, try saving my 16-century printed rendition of it; bear in mind the inital clef mark straddles the position of C.

The lament is in traditional Scottish call-and-answer form, for two people, one in the part of the baby boy and one in the role of nurse. It sounds great now that Dickon is old enough to sing his part.

I had intended at some stage to produce an illuminated manuscript form of this and, on discovering of Alys' impending laurelling, was inspired to produce it as a printed Elizabethan broadsheet which sparked a whole new area on which to spend my time. You can read about the printing side of this project here.

The rest of the material on this page is in roughly chronological order, but I'm playing favourites with this -- unlike the others below, this one has been sung more than once! More of the Pen Gwynne War songs here and more about the War reporting here.

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The Passing of the Crown

Tune: based on The Burden of the Crown

For twenty years we've gathered
in Caid's royal name
Our peerage and our people
have earned their share of fame.
For twenty years we've laughed and cried
as the crescent moons shone down.
So raise a glass and shed a tear
for the passing of a crown.

In twenty years we've grown
and passed the banner on.
Our stories and traditions
that have helped us carry on.
From the times of "happy memory"
Feasts and tourneys of renown.
So raise a glass and shed a tear
for the passing of a crown.

What will the future bring us
'neath Lochac's stars of gold?
There'll be tourneys, courts and feasting
as in the days of old.
For we share The Dream together
the Known Worlde around.
So raise your glass and shed no tears
at the passing of this crown.
So raise your glass and shed no tears
at the passing of this crown.

Notes

I admit it, this is pure sentiment, but I felt that the change-over of kingdoms from Caid to Lochac in AS38 was something that needed to be marked, that the grief involved (for some) needed to be acknowledged, and that we all needed to be reminded that we do share the fabric of the Dream, embroider it how we may.

I sang this as a toast at the change-over feast, to dead silence which I decided to take as a compliment. (Memo: don't try to hold sustained notes the first time you've ever worn an Elizabethan corset!)

It's got a bunch of obvious symbolism in it. For those who don't know Caid tradition, the ceremony for the Order of the Dolphin (kingdom service award) mentions that it was first given "in the second year of Caid, during the reign of Prince Gregory and Princess Vivian" at which point it is traditional for the populace to chorus in unison "of happy memory". I don't have documentation for this, but it happens....And I chose to use The Burden of the Crown as the music because, for those who know the song, it would help produce the intended feeling of sadness tinged with looking towards the future.

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The Herald's Song

On the 12th day of Christmas, the herald gave to me:

Alternative version: On the 12th day of page school, the herald showed to me:

Notes

This was a piece of audience interactive silliness I wrote for a 12th Night Challenge, incorporating some of the common charges used in our Barony (rampant boar for Baron Sigurd Hardrada, panthers enflamed for Baroness Eleonora van den Boegarde, lions dormant for my lord Bartholomew Baskin).

I picked audience members at random to come up, and handed them a slip which said what creature they were and what they should do when their line was sung. Everyone ended up singing along and many of the rest of the populace cheerfully undertook the actions as well. You could be really mean and not give them the instructions and see how they do....

One of these days, I'll get the page school to make masks and we'll do a special masked version. We'll need to have a few more children around for that! But I can just see the pieces of red paper taped around the panther mask mouth blowing nicely for the flames.

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The Trees of Southron Gaard - A Riddling Song

Let's go to the forest, o come take my hand
I'll show you a clearing where two fine trees stand
From saplings I've watched them grow straight and so tall
In tempest and storm wrack they bend but don't fall.

In summer they shade us, leaves fluttering gold
In autumn their strong white limbs break the wind's cold
In winter's black night waves a star at their head
And springtime brings blossoms snow white and blood red.

They shelter the small things, tower high 'bove the rest
In our part of the forest, these two are the best
And now is revealed their stature in truth
For one's Sir Sebastian, the other Sir Ulf.

Notes

I wrote this for the first knighting to be held on these shores, some 15 years after the founding of the SCA in these lands. Ulf said he started to wonder about the metaphor and decided he'd sussed it when I got to the bit about "snow white and blood red", his heraldic colours. The tune is something fairly simple I put together based on nothing in particular. Yet another "oncer".

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Gawaine, the Green Knight

Tune: Robin Hood and the Tanner

Come gather around and I'll sing you a tale
With a hey down down a down down
I sing of the young knight Gawaine
The wonder he wrought
From the challenge he sought
When he first entered King Arthur's train.

At Yule time there rode within King Arthur's hall
With a hey down down a down down
A giant of emerald hue
An axe he presented
And asked who consented
To trade him a hard blow or two.

The knights who were there they looked down at their toes
With a hey down down a down down
Not one would stand forth for the call
Then Gawain he asked
To be given the task
Though newly he'd come to the hall.

The stranger he said "You may strike me one blow"
With a hey down down a down down
Gawaine he swung with good cheer
The head it was spliced
But bounced back in a twice
And said "My turn comes in one year."

The year went by fast and Sir Gawaine rode off
With a hey down down a down down
To seek out the magic green knight
He came to a keep
In snows that were deep
And asked might he stay just one night.

The lady, his host, was lusty and fair
With a hey down down a down down
And Gawaine had quite caught her eye
She came to his bed
Entertaining she said
With much honoured, and offered, all night.

Unknown to him she'd been sent by her lord
With a hey down down a down down
The magical foe that he sought
To test the youth's will
For honour or ill
As a different challenge he fought.

And how was it that Gawaine was able to hold
With a hey down down a down down
And not dally away the long e'en?
The youth was untried
Twas but horses he'd ride
His foe weren't the only one green.

I wrote this to perform at a feast based on a theme of King Arthur. The tune was based on Robin Hood and the Tanner, a traditional song as performed by St George's Canzona on Minstrel Songs and Dances for a Medieval Banquet. I suspect that the punchline may be a tad subtle.

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12th Night Challenge

At 12th Night in AS26, we had to draw a set of words and include these in some kind of entertainment. My words were ring, jewels, brawl and palace, and here is how I used them:

On the 12th day of Christmas, my leige lord gave to me:

12 ladies singing
11 archers pinging
10 knights a-hacking
9 torturers racking
8 maids a simpering
7 hound dogs whimpering
5 gold rings
4 casks of jewels
3 kegs of mead
2 tuns of wine
And he wondered why there was a palace brawl

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The Pen Gwynne War Songs

As originally introduced in the Pen Gwynne War monograph from AS30:

One of the milder of the Pen Gwynne battle songs to survive the ages, these verses by katherine kerr of the Hermitage suggest that some form of accommodation was reached at the last. She names the major battle leaders of the invaders, adding to the tally provided by other songs. The tune is based on the ancient Welsh song Men of Harlech.

Come listen ye all to my tale
Of battles that'd make thee quail
Clash of sword and clink of mail
In the Pen Gwynne War.

The peaceful folk of this fair isle
Heard a tale that raised their bile
Of penguins kept in durance vile
'Gainst all natural law.

Came we to assistance
Organised resistance
Took on the foes and dealt them blows
With enthusiasm, courage and persistence.
As we charged across the field
With sword and bow and spear and shield
We saw our foemen start to yield
In the Pen Gwynne War.

Invaders from across the seas
Ended up on bended knees
Crying out "Don't kill us please,
We'll surrender now."

Robare and Cristia came to fight
With Glynafer and her noble knight
Jacques and Brian added their might
But it weren't enow.

Hail to Southern Reaches!
Lochac has naught to teach us
Our heavies, lights and would-be knights
Had no problem rearranging all their features.
Victory for all intended
Western and Southern, all wounds are mended
And we all are best befriended
That's our final vow.

This song mentions the participation of elements of the Swift Flight Light Infantry Company in the Pen Gwynne War, in the typically jocular and irreverent fashion that appears characteristic of battle songs of that archer band. The song is set to the best-forgotten, but aptly named, tune Little Arrows.

There's a light, an archer light
Shooting arrows in the blue
And he's aiming them at someone
But the question is at who?
Is it me? Is it you?
Hard to tell until you're hit
But you'll know it when they hit you
'Cos they hurt a little bit.

Here they come falling out of the blue
Little arrows for me and for you
Here comes Swift Flight again
Here comes Swift Flight again

Little arrows in your armour
Little arrows in your hair
When you're at war you'll find those little arrows everywhere
Little arrows that will hit you once
And hit you once again
Little arrows that hit everybody every now and then

Oh, oh, oh the pain…

Some folks run, others hide
There ain't nothing they can do
And some folks put on armour but the arrows go straight through
So you see there's no escape
So why not face it and admit
That you love those little arrows though they hurt a little bit.

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Introduction to the Fair People of our Shire

This was written for the visit of King Patrick (AS26), and sung to the tune of The Ash Grove. One of these days I might update it. Do note that the spelling of the names is purely phonetic in this one.

Good even good gentles
We bid thee welcome
To this the Shire
of the Southron Gaard
I'll tell you of some of
the people around you
Forgive my singing
I am no bard.

We arrive at the door
and find a troll waiting
It demands money
What are we to do?
Hand over our gold
to this fearsome creatire
none than treasurer
Madelein de Toulouse.

The seneschal looks strange
Has no knightly armour
He's lacking a doublet
No codpiece or hose.
He's Matsuyama
Yoshitoshi-sama
A Japanese samurai
Not one of those.

The cry of oyez
Marks where our herald
Martin ap Cadwallader
Takes to the floor.
He has two announcements
A notice, three changes
Is anyone listening?
Oh dear, try once more.

Morgana de Maar
Handles the fighters
She sees to their comfort
Looks after their need.
The Steel Knot Company
Looks for her guidance
She give it them gladly
Hard trading indeed.

Over there in the corner is Wulf Zeelander
He is our Shire constable
Mighty and strong.
You may have heard tell of
His staff of office
A rod with a knob on
'Bout 10 inches long.

Oh what is that squealing,
that screaming, that shrieking
It sounds like the cloven fruit's
Passing again.
I don't think she knew
What she was getting into
When she gives the fruit to
Thorfyrd Hakonsen.

Rowena le Serjent's
A marshal, an archer
A poet, a seamstress
An artisan too.
She is well known
For cooking imagination
Did you see what went into
Tonight's meaty stew?

There's an empty space
At one of the tables
Could it be that Gwylhyfydd
Is late once again?
He once was on time
To battle with Callum
Fought bravely but became
The latest of men.

Did you see that fellow
Stand in something sticky?
That one over there
The one with the hair.
Well, we did warn
Edward Discalciate
What happens when you walk
Around with feet bare.

Oh what is he saying
I feel I should ken it
Comprehension's beyond me
I'm tied up in knots.
Ah, there's no worry
My ears are quite healthy
Tis just Lugh Macdhur
A-practicising Scots.

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