So, I was asked to do wording for a Pelican scroll. I was told it would be Celtic in style. And I was told to make it funny.
Funny is hard. Funny isn’t just copying phrases and swapping nouns. Funny causes me a great deal of stress to write. However, funny was appropriate for the candidate, his lady wanted it, and the scribe was going to do a humorous scroll illumination. So …
I decided to base this scroll wording on the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. As sources go, it’s not funny, at least in a modern sense, but it’s conversational, and has some awesome phrasing. Let’s take the phrasing from the AD 1001 as follow (lines lifted from the original to be used in the final scroll in bold).
A.D. 1001.
This year the army came to Exmouth, and then went up to the town, and there
continued fighting stoutly; but they
were very strenuously resisted. Then
went they through the land, and did all as was their wont; destroyed and burnt.
Then was collected a vast force of the people of Devon and of the people of
Somerset, and they then came together at
Pen. And so soon as they joined battle, then the people gave way; and there they made great slaughter, and then
they rode over the land, and their
last incursion was ever worse than the one before; and then they brought much
booty with them to their ships. And thence
they went into the Isle of Wight, and there they roved about, even as they
themselves would, and nothing withstood them: nor any fleet by sea durst meet
them; nor land force either, went they ever so far up. Then was it in every
wise a heavy time, because they never
ceased from their evil doings.
It's a story of armies, slaughter, travelling to places, and evil doings. It’s dramatic, and a great base to build up from. I eliminated all the extra text I wasn’t going to use to build out a skeletal story structure:
… (Trumbrand) came to (Ben Dunfirth), and
then went … they strenuously resisted … the people gave way … then (he) rode
over the land … (he) never ceased …
Then I started adding in connective language, attempting to maintain the sentence structure and language of the original. I went through a base draft of the paragraph, that wasn’t particularly funny, but later I could rewrite it over and over until it was.
One day, Trumbrand the Wanderer came to Ben
Dunfirth, and there he beat people with sticks, and people strenuously objected
… the people gave way … so then he rode over the land … he never ceased from
the beating.
You can still make out the inspiration from the original source and lifted phrasings here, and the original writing style still shows, but it’s not polished. So after a few rewrites, and trying to put a spotlight on the fact that Trumbrand has been armoring for people for thirty years, and been a marshal all that time, I came up with this as the first paragraph/stanza:
One day, Trumbrand came to Ben Dunfirth, and
there he beat people with sticks, and people strenuously objected. So then he went through the land beating different
people with sticks, as was his wont, he also smashed and burned things. The people gave way, and Trumbrand had no one
left to beat, so then he rode over the land, teaching other people to beat
others with sticks, and made them armor so the beatings would last longer. He called himself a marshal, which sounded
very official, so no one complained, and he never ceased the beating or
armoring.
Better, entertaining with a small dose humor that still keeps the dignity and celebration of Trumbrand, and still has the skeleton of a period work. Not that anyone would have chronicled history with tongue in cheek commentary. But our scrolls serve a purpose, to celebrate the recipient, and to entertain the populace. So you can see the period work peeking through the crevasses, rather than write something dry. The goal was to insert modern humor but in a way that wasn’t too far off the narrative style of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. The other advantage of intermittent humor, especially with a long scroll wording, is the advantage that it keeps the audience engaged.
So, here’s the finalized Pelican scroll in it’s entirety.
One day, Trumbrand came to
Ben Dunfirth, and there he beat people with sticks, and people strenuously
objected. So then he went through the
land beating different people with sticks, as was his wont, he also smashed and
burned things. The people gave way, and
Trumbrand had no one left to beat, so then he rode over the land, teaching
other people to beat others with sticks, and made them armor so the beatings
would last longer. He called himself a
marshal, which sounded very official, so no one complained, and he never ceased
the beating or armoring.
Word of Trumbrand came to the King and his council, and they agreed that tribute should be given for all the bruises he caused, and he should desist from his mischief. So at the king’s word the council went to make peace with him, on condition they received food and drink, so Trumbrand learned to cook and brew, and fed everyone and gave them ale, and the king’s men feasted and became drunk with Trumbrand, and they told the king they beshrew Trumbrand of many kegs, and afterwards the council offered Trumbrand no more resistance, because their heads hurt.
Then when Trumbrand wasn’t paying attention, Ben Dunfirth was demolished, and then rebuilt as New Farthing, and then demolished, and then rebuilt as Ben Dunfirth. Trumbrand understood that work was needed to help Ben Dunfirth, so he gathered friends in secret, because no one ever actually saw him talk, and all the people met together and much work was made in camps, at Wars, in halls, and at tournaments, and in basements, cellars and kitchens. When people came to Ben Dunfirth, they saw all the people working together and never left. And Trumbrand was happy and went to his basement, and for thirty years wondrous things came out of that basement to bring joy to others.
Sometimes Trumbrand was king, sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes he was on the king’s council, and other times not. Sometimes he was silent, and other times he had a beer or two and shared his wisdom. But while no one was watching, he made the Kingdom a better place. Armies wore his armor. Knights swung swords like Trumbrand taught them. Nobles ate his roasts. The King’s Councillors listened to his words and filled it out on all the paperwork.
So this day, on the Meadow of Murder Melee, King Roak and Queen Hyrrokin, Khan and Khan Begam called Trumbrand the Wanderer forward to do him honour. They promised him a shiny medallion to wear, and some beer later for coming to court. Pelicans feed their young with their blood, and Trumbrand has given his blood and his sweat to this kingdom. And thence he was made a Master of the Pelican, as thanks for over three decades of service, and we hope he never ceases from his good works.
Roak Hyrrokin liv.vi.viii
(based on the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, entries AD 1001-1004)
Word of Trumbrand came to the King and his council, and they agreed that tribute should be given for all the bruises he caused, and he should desist from his mischief. So at the king’s word the council went to make peace with him, on condition they received food and drink, so Trumbrand learned to cook and brew, and fed everyone and gave them ale, and the king’s men feasted and became drunk with Trumbrand, and they told the king they beshrew Trumbrand of many kegs, and afterwards the council offered Trumbrand no more resistance, because their heads hurt.
Then when Trumbrand wasn’t paying attention, Ben Dunfirth was demolished, and then rebuilt as New Farthing, and then demolished, and then rebuilt as Ben Dunfirth. Trumbrand understood that work was needed to help Ben Dunfirth, so he gathered friends in secret, because no one ever actually saw him talk, and all the people met together and much work was made in camps, at Wars, in halls, and at tournaments, and in basements, cellars and kitchens. When people came to Ben Dunfirth, they saw all the people working together and never left. And Trumbrand was happy and went to his basement, and for thirty years wondrous things came out of that basement to bring joy to others.
Sometimes Trumbrand was king, sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes he was on the king’s council, and other times not. Sometimes he was silent, and other times he had a beer or two and shared his wisdom. But while no one was watching, he made the Kingdom a better place. Armies wore his armor. Knights swung swords like Trumbrand taught them. Nobles ate his roasts. The King’s Councillors listened to his words and filled it out on all the paperwork.
So this day, on the Meadow of Murder Melee, King Roak and Queen Hyrrokin, Khan and Khan Begam called Trumbrand the Wanderer forward to do him honour. They promised him a shiny medallion to wear, and some beer later for coming to court. Pelicans feed their young with their blood, and Trumbrand has given his blood and his sweat to this kingdom. And thence he was made a Master of the Pelican, as thanks for over three decades of service, and we hope he never ceases from his good works.
Roak Hyrrokin liv.vi.viii
(based on the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, entries AD 1001-1004)
And here’s the four entries from the Anglo-Saxon chronicle that were used as inspiration. The paragraphs do not align stanza by stanza exactly to the scroll, as the narrative phrases were used non sequentially to tell Trumbrand’s story. I took extra pains to use the awesome medieval words ‘beshrew’ and ‘thence’.
((A.D. 1001. This year the
army came to Exmouth, and then went up to the town, and there continued
fighting stoutly; but they were very strenuously resisted. Then went they
through the land, and did all as was their wont; destroyed and burnt. Then was
collected a vast force of the people of Devon and of the people of Somerset,
and they then came together at Pen. And so soon as they joined battle, then the
people gave way: and there they made great slaughter, and then they rode over
the land, and their last incursion was ever worse than the one before: and then
they brought much booty with them to their ships. And thence they went into the
Isle of Wight, and there they roved about, even as they themselves would, and
nothing withstood them: nor any fleet by sea durst meet them; nor land force
either, went they ever so far up. Then was it in every wise a heavy time,
because they never ceased from their evil doings.
A.D. 1002. This year the king and his council agreed that tribute should be given to the fleet, and peace made with them, with the provision that they should desist from their mischief. Then sent the king to the fleet Alderman Leofsy, who at the king's word and his council made peace with them, on condition that they received food and tribute; which they accepted, and a tribute was paid of 24,000 pounds. In the meantime Alderman Leofsy slew Eafy, high-steward of the king; and the king banished him from the land. Then, in the same Lent, came the Lady Elfgive Emma, Richard's daughter, to this land. And in the same summer died Archbishop Eadulf; and also, in the same year the king gave an order to slay all the Danes that were in England. This was accordingly done on the mass-day of St. Brice; because it was told the king, that they would beshrew him of his life, and afterwards all his council, and then have his kingdom without any resistance.
A.D. 1003. This year was Exeter demolished, through the French churl Hugh, whom the lady had appointed her steward there. And the army destroyed the town withal, and took there much spoil. In the same year came the army up into Wiltshire. Then was collected a very great force, from Wiltshire and from Hampshire; which was soon ready on their march against the enemy: and Alderman Elfric should have led them on; but he brought forth his old tricks, and as soon as they were so near, that either army looked on the other, then he pretended sickness, and began to retch, saying he was sick; and so betrayed the people that he should have led: as it is said, "When the leader is sick the whole army is hindered." When Sweyne saw that they were not ready, and that they all retreated, then led he his army into Wilton; and they plundered and burned the town. Then went he to Sarum; and thence back to the sea, where he knew his ships were.
A.D. 1004. This year came Sweyne with his fleet to Norwich, plundering and burning the whole town. Then Ulfkytel agreed with the council in East-Anglia, that it were better to purchase peace with the enemy, ere they did too much harm on the land; for that they had come unawares, and he had not had time to gather his force. Then, under the truce that should have been between them, stole the army up from their ships, and bent their course to Thetford. When Ulfkytel understood that, then sent he an order to hew the ships in pieces; but they frustrated his design. Then he gathered his forces, as secretly as he could. The enemy came to Thetford within three weeks after they had plundered Norwich; and, remaining there one night, they spoiled and burned the town; but, in the morning, as they were proceeding to their ships, came Ulfkytel with his army, and said that they must there come to close quarters. And, accordingly, the two armies met together; and much slaughter was made on both sides. There were many of the veterans of the East- Angles slain; but, if the main army had been there, the enemy had never returned to their ships. As they said themselves, that they never met with worse hand-play in England than Ulfkytel brought them.
A.D. 1002. This year the king and his council agreed that tribute should be given to the fleet, and peace made with them, with the provision that they should desist from their mischief. Then sent the king to the fleet Alderman Leofsy, who at the king's word and his council made peace with them, on condition that they received food and tribute; which they accepted, and a tribute was paid of 24,000 pounds. In the meantime Alderman Leofsy slew Eafy, high-steward of the king; and the king banished him from the land. Then, in the same Lent, came the Lady Elfgive Emma, Richard's daughter, to this land. And in the same summer died Archbishop Eadulf; and also, in the same year the king gave an order to slay all the Danes that were in England. This was accordingly done on the mass-day of St. Brice; because it was told the king, that they would beshrew him of his life, and afterwards all his council, and then have his kingdom without any resistance.
A.D. 1003. This year was Exeter demolished, through the French churl Hugh, whom the lady had appointed her steward there. And the army destroyed the town withal, and took there much spoil. In the same year came the army up into Wiltshire. Then was collected a very great force, from Wiltshire and from Hampshire; which was soon ready on their march against the enemy: and Alderman Elfric should have led them on; but he brought forth his old tricks, and as soon as they were so near, that either army looked on the other, then he pretended sickness, and began to retch, saying he was sick; and so betrayed the people that he should have led: as it is said, "When the leader is sick the whole army is hindered." When Sweyne saw that they were not ready, and that they all retreated, then led he his army into Wilton; and they plundered and burned the town. Then went he to Sarum; and thence back to the sea, where he knew his ships were.
A.D. 1004. This year came Sweyne with his fleet to Norwich, plundering and burning the whole town. Then Ulfkytel agreed with the council in East-Anglia, that it were better to purchase peace with the enemy, ere they did too much harm on the land; for that they had come unawares, and he had not had time to gather his force. Then, under the truce that should have been between them, stole the army up from their ships, and bent their course to Thetford. When Ulfkytel understood that, then sent he an order to hew the ships in pieces; but they frustrated his design. Then he gathered his forces, as secretly as he could. The enemy came to Thetford within three weeks after they had plundered Norwich; and, remaining there one night, they spoiled and burned the town; but, in the morning, as they were proceeding to their ships, came Ulfkytel with his army, and said that they must there come to close quarters. And, accordingly, the two armies met together; and much slaughter was made on both sides. There were many of the veterans of the East- Angles slain; but, if the main army had been there, the enemy had never returned to their ships. As they said themselves, that they never met with worse hand-play in England than Ulfkytel brought them.
I will certainly admit writing this scroll was stressful, because you don’t know what people will actually find funny until it’s presented. However, in court this past Saturday, the court laughed at the right points, as did Trumbrand (which is really all that matters). The court herald did an excellent job with the delivery, which was essential.
If you are interested in reading the entirety of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the text of it can be found here. https://archive.org/stream/Anglo-saxonChronicles/anglo_saxon_chronicle_djvu.txt
If you have ideas or suggestions about putting humor into scroll wordings or ceremonies, or how to balance period pieces with modern entertainment, I’d be interested to hear from you.
Cheerfully slaving for my feudal masters,
Brand, Barenwalde
checkyboy@gmail.com