Music and Poetry of Ealdormere's Early
Years
Lament for Ealdormere
The Hunting Of The Wolf
A Song For The Place That Cannot Say Its Name
The Polestar: A Song For Ealdormere
A Tale Of The Collars
Ealdormere Battle Song
The "E" Song
The Field Battle ,
Pennsic XVII
Lament for Ealdormere
Words and music by Mistress Rhiannon of Wye, O.L.
Well may you weep, you maidens merry.
Well may you weep, you warriors bold.
Men by the fire and mothers nursing,
Sad news I tell: Ealdormere is dead.
She was not born of man or woman.
She was not sent by gods above.
She was the sum of all our hearts' yearning.
Bitter words: Ealdormere is dead.
Blessed by beasts of field and forest,
Blessed by all but destiny.
Fates are not kind to those who defy them,
Black their gifts. Ealdormere is dead.
Wondrous her works, but none might outlast her.
Sure her shafts, too many the foe.
Countless her friends, yet none might stand by her.
Lone she fell. Ealdormere is dead.
Tell your sons and
tell your daughters,
Tell your babes this tale of woe.
A hero was born when the world was not ready.
Brief her song, Ealdormere is dead.
©1986 Menya Wolfe
(This song was written to accompany the story written by
Master Aedan O'Kincorra about the "Doom of Ealdormere". Mistress
Rhiannon says that everyone liked it BUT Aedan, who felt it was too bleak. Her
intention was to capture the moment of grief", and leave the hope and
renewal to others. Clearly she was successful. Ed.)
The Hunting of the Wolf
Words and music by Baroness TSivia bas Tamara v'Amberview,
O.L.
10 May XXl A.S. (1986), dedicated to "When Calontir
Stands Alone"
Listen at night while the farmer lies sleeping
The horses they stamp and the cows they do low.
The trees bow their heads as the Earth is heard weeping,
All mourn the brave Timber Wolf dead in the snow.
Once proud as a symbol of people united,
How loyal her heart and how keen was her eye.
To Dragon and Crown was her loyalty plighted:
Why then did the Fates order that she must die?
No other could rival her strength or her beauty,
Beloved by all, even Ursus and Hare.
She strove to protect all who lived by the "Old Sea
And none could find reason for her to beware.
One night as the moon lit the Timber Wolfs forest
The King and his Council did ride all for sport.
They spied the fair Wolf and did name her a fine Quest:
A pox on that King and his unthinking Court!
Fast did the fleet Wolf run, o'er hedgerow and barrow
But faster still ran the foam-flecked Royal steed.
The King himself shot off a fair feathered arrow –
No animal living could beat that shaft's speed.
The arrow struck true and the Wolf fell down dying.
No sound could be heard but the hunter's harsh breath.
Then down fell the snow as the Earth started crying,
Then all within mourned for the noble Wolfs death.
Too la te did the noble ones rue their decision,
Too late for the King to mend what was cast down.
How much was then changed by that single omission:
Forgetting humility best serves the Crown.
The bards of the "Old Sea
Did honour her mem'ry with smile and with tear.
And so from her ashes rose vict'ry, NOT ruin:
Waes Hael to the folk who still love (Ealdormere)!"*
* During the period when people could not speak the name of
Ealdormere, this last word was mouthed by the singer, and usually screamed by
the populace.
© 1986 S. Rabinovitch
A Song for the Place that
Cannot Say Its Very Name
Words and music by Master Hector of the Black Height, O.L.,
O.P.
Look to the Northlands and follow their wand'ring,
Through forest and glen to the lakes big as seas;
Deride them or curse them, it makes little matter,
For wolves there remain, and those wolves remain free.
They look to the North, some in awe, some in anger,
They claim it as prize in their noble array:
While Southron takes broadland and thinks it a bauble,
Up North, in our forests, there's wolf cubs at play.
You cannot ignore the wild cries in the darkness,
A flickering candle or smoke from a fire;
You may turn your back, and then curse what's behind you
But we've patience aplenty - the North does not tire.
Some wolves hunt in packs; some hold ground and menace;
Some slip dark and stealthy 'twixt towering trees.
You may hunt and trap one, or even a dozen,
But hunter, think not that the pack's on its knees.
Deny us a name, ye deny us our right arm;
Like tracks in the snow, hope they'll all blow away,
But memory's long, and our wounds we are licking;
So don't tread in our forest, lest you feel fangs at play.
We look from the North, some in pain, some in pity,
From hearth-fire and household, in sword and in song;
The wolf cubs are nipping the heels of the old wolves:
The pack will be feeding down South before long.
© A.H. Mclean
This was written just after receipt of the decree that
"outlawed" the region of Ealdormere and its Champion. The first verse
is inscribed in runic on the Champions' Collars of Ealdormere. It was first
published in The Book of the Reign of David and Tangwystl.
The Polestar: A Song
for Ealdormere
Words and music by Baroness TSivia bas Tamara v'Amberview,
O.L.
Retrain:
(SO) Follow the Polestar and follow the snowfall
And follow the wolf to the North,
For where silver flowers grow
'Neath a blanket of snow,
Is our homeland, beloved Ealdormere.
Argent's our land in the cold of the winter;
Clear silver the ice on the lake,
And the trillium white
Is our heart's true delight
For our homeland, beloved Ealdormere.
(Refrain)
Crimson the blood we will shed to defend her
And scarlet the fair Northern Lights
And our red twilight sky
Fills my heart and my eye
For our homeland, beloved Ealdormere.
(Refrain)
Wolven kin blest with both brav'ry and beauty,
Wolf-children howl to the wind
Telling glorious tales
Over strong mead and ale
Of our homeland, beloved Ealdormere,
(Refrain)
So sing of our dear ones and tell of our lost ones.
Remember with voice and with deed,
Tis our honour and right
To bear scarlet and white
For our homeland, beloved Ealdormere!
Final Retrain:
Follow the Polestar and follow the snowfall, A
nd follow the wolf to the North,
For where sil ver flowers grow
'Neath a blanket of snow
Is our homeland, beloved Ealdorrnere
-- Is MY Homeland, Beloved Ealdormere!
1 March XXXI A.S. (1997 C.E.), inspired by a dream
© 1997 S. Rabinovitch
A Tale of the Collars
Words and music by Master Hector of the Black Height. O.L.,
O.F.
Colwyn's vision, cymru lady
Gorgets gorgeous, blaze of bonfires
Done from dreaming into waking
Sparkle 'neath the seven stars
Now to Northman came new vision
Melded metals with fair jewels
Flash of Ealdormeran fire
Finely honed by house of eagles
Wildfire words it whispered far
In the glow of great North wak'ning
Sulphur blast from Sylard's forge
Cast the coals forth for a champion
Northman known to spread the fire
Granite-cleft with flames set soaring
And the moon -gilt girl beside
Came the dark times, deep and frigid
Cool turves roof the coals for now
Damp the North-forge, fan the smoke-wisp
Let the land now nurse its own
Cold concealment cast far from us
Bank the blaze and marvel more
Fast and present now united
In proud Trillium's torchlit court
Take again the brand before us
Smite the foe like flames of fire
Now as then the Northern champions
Join fair jewels in treasured times
© A. H. MacLean
The Champions' Collars of Ealdormere are the oldest pieces
of Principality regalia, dating from the earliest days of hope of a Principality,
and were awarded to Lord Yog Rhys Mordwyn and his consort, Lady Hanora O'Neill,
and later to Lord John of Slaughterfield and Lady Dea of Carlysle. The collars
were designed by Mistress Mortraeth Llanelli Colwyn, who was assisted in their
design by Master Sylard of Eagleshaven. Master Sylard assisted in the manufacture
of the collars.
The collars have graven on them in runic:
"Look to the Northlands and
follow their wand'ring,
Through forest and glen to the
lakes big as seas,
Deride them or curse them, it makes
little matter,
For wolves there remain, and those
wolves remain free.
After a long hiatus, the Collars of Ealdormere were
presented to the Prince's and Princess' Champions in court on 23 June, A.S.
XXV, and are still worn by their successors. Hector believes this was the first
court a Prince and Princess of Ealdormere conducted separate from a Midrealm
court. Published in The Book of the Reign of David and Tangwvstl.
Ealdormere Battle
Song
Words and music by Baroness TSiviu bas Tamara v'Amberview,
O.L.
Heark! In the distance the bodhrans are rumbling,
The music of war stirs the air.
The bowstrings are waxed and the broadswords are glinting:
The wolven folk ready their lair.
Chorus:
And it's hi! Ho! Hey! Cry Ealdormere!
Shoulder to shoulder we stand,
And it's hi! Ho! Hey! Cry Ealdorrnere!
Guarding our Prince and our Land.
Look overhead at the wolf standard snapping,
She's baring her teeth at the foe.
We offer our strength and our blood to protect her,
Defending our hearth and our home.
Chorus:
And it's hi! Ho! Hey! Cry Ealdormere!
Shoulder to shoulder we stand,
And it's hi! Ho! Hey! Cry Ealdormere!
Guarding our Prince and our Land.
So throw a last kiss to the one who inspires you
Then march forth for what we hold dear,
And think on the loves and the lands you're protecting:
Our homeland we call Ealdormere!
Chorus:
And it's hi! Ho! Hey! Cry Ealdormere!
Shoulder to shoulder we stand,
And it's hi! Ho! Hey! Cry Ealdormere!
Guarding our Frince and our Land.
Summer A.S. XXIII (1988 C.E.)
© 1988 S. Rabinovitch
The "E"Song
Words by Master Hector of the Black Height, O.L., O.P.
Tune of "Green Grow the Rushes-O"
1) The original version as sung until Ealdormere’s first
Coronet:
I'll sing you one-a;
Hey, hey, the wolves will bay.
What is your one-a?
One for the land
of Ealdorrnere
I'll sing you two-a;
Hey, hey, the wolves will bay.
What is your two-a?
Two, two, myself and you, we wear the scarlet proudly;
And one for the land
of Ealdorrnere
<continue the pattern until the final verse>
I'll sing you ten-o
Hey, hey, the wolves will bay.
What is your ten-a?
Ten, ten, let's do it again;
Nine for Kaffa in the ditch;
Eight for the bastard Viking;
Seven for the Northern households;
Six for the Northern baronies;
Five for His Grace, Tadashi;
Four for the Lord Lieutenant;
Three, three for His Majesty;
Two, two, myself and you, we wear the scarlet proudly;
And one for the land
of Ealdorrnere
2) Subsequently it became:
Ten, ten, let's do it again;
Nine for the hundred archers;
Eight for the bastard Viking;
Seven for the Northern households;
Six for the Northern baronies;
Five for His Grace, Tadashi;
Four for His Lupine Highness;
Three, three for His Majesty;
Two, two, myself and you, we wear the scarlet proudly;
And one for the land
of Ealdormere
References to royalty are "His" or "Her"
depending on who was present when we were singing. Ten is a matter of
expediency. I've sung "Ten, ten, let's do it again", "Ten for
vict'ry in the South", "Ten for a worthy foe and true" or
anything else that seemed apropos given the setting.
Words © A.H. McLean
The Field Battle
Words and music by Master Hector of the Black Height, O.L.,
O.F.
Ebb and flow, ebb and flow
Wave on rocks, wash and falter
Wave of honour, wave of tears
Fell for friends far lost and
gone
Like the waves they lined that
day
Wave and wave, steel and sinew
Coursed to crash on rocks and
crags
That lined the breach they hoped
to lop
Like the waves they laughed that
day
Sea-dew sparkle on sunlit steel
Stood they, waves in serried
ranks
Like the tide, turned east to
roar
Seaman, soldier, wave-point aimed
With marines and soldiers many
Poised to pounce, lines flowing
free
Followed Aeden, long-armed
fighter
Gray-beard girt in steel and arms
Cap of waves, the warrior captain
Waiting walk on blooded foam
Came the morning, forth the many
Waves all tumbling towards the
east
Wave on wave behind fair Freemen
Signed to spend themselves full
well
Came the tide surge, came cruel
battle
Waves and troughs, rude crash and
roar
Forward Carthage ! On Kincora!
On to Eastrealm's point and edge
Towering wave cap, poised to
tumble
But the broken rhythm
Ruined the symmetry of the tide
race
Pierced on points of Eastern shore
Vain the struggle, and yet
valiant
Wave on wave enfold, not free
Elandris fallen, foemen facing
Wounds before him, marines close
by
Wave on wave, then waves fell on
them
Trident seas of spears
unchallenged
Lost was Grimwulf, then Alasdair
Keening Shinan standing o'er him
Roared Rhys Mordwyn, well-spring
warrior
Roared o'er crashing sword and
spear
"On Trimarans, On Merkfalans
"Come and race the tide
today!"
Surged the east, scourged the
coast
Glandydd fell, his steel still
singing
As he fell 'midst many comrades
Northern waves lapped eastern
legs
Forward Aeden, laughing graybeard
Saw his time come, met the moment
Gleeful captain, wave at full
course
Meeting fate his wounds in front
Eastrealm circle all around them
Fate washed o'er them, fore and
back
Cast was Edward far like flotsam
Lone and lanced, to fight and
fall
Cast on rocks was Northern mettle
Rocks of iron, rocks of gold
Shoni's fate fell with King's
guardsmen
Tide pool caught 'midst towering
crags
Slain from Skraeling was their
finest
Cry, for Cordigan sings no more
Shed your tears in distant
Steinbach
For Northern foemen felled and
still
There fell all who came
campaigning
Surged in file to meet their fate
Ruddy ripples reached for succour
Distant wavelets skirt the shore
Ebb and flow, ebb and flow
Waves on rocks, wash and falter
Waves of honour, wave of tears
Fallen for the drear day gone
© A.H. McLean
HISTORICAL NOTE: The Field Battle at Pennsic XVII saw the
Ealdormeran forces advancing behind the Free Militia. The plan was that the
Militia would spend itself on the Eastern line, allowing the Ealdormerans,
deployed in close column of two companies in line, to break through Trimaris
and the Merkfalans, taking the enemy from the rear. Unfortunately, injuries on
the field caused a re-start,just as the Militia met the Eastern shieldwall.
The two waves of Northmen had to return to their exposed
start point; the East had seen the plan. On the second start, the Militia
bogged down in a slugging match with the Eastern shieldwall. The two companies
surged forward again, but had nowhere to go with the Militia checked in front
of them, and had to stop, cramming the two companies together. Completely exposed
on the flanks, the lines of Ealdormerans were enveloped and annihilated, in our
worst defeat in recent memory. No Midrealm reserves came to the aid of the
Ealdormerans, Incidentally, the Midrealm won the battle.
Among the many local heroes listed in this poem arc our
commanders of that day, the legendary Baron Master Aedan o Kincora -
unfortunately now inactive - and the equally famous Duke Sir Hasdrubal (the
Carthaginian Marine), who led the two waves forward. Hector wrote this poem to
show how the heroic traditions of Roland and Malden can be translated into the doings of
the SCA. This was first published in Ursus. Also published in The Book of the
Reign of David and Tanswystl.
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