A Musical History of Old Port

[The Band Played On]

[tface=fellsc]A Musical History of Old Port[/tface]

by Gywneth DeVries

 Introduction
 
    I start this work by stating why it is so important. There are many forms of historical research, most having to do with staid names and dates, important leaders and their deeds. This form of history is easily corrupted, those who win the battles and wield the power get to place their stamp upon it. As such, most history is the story of the winners, and how they wish to be remembered. (Not to mention, the history texts tend to put one to sleep if poorly written, and aren’t they all?)
 
  However, there is much more to be learned than this, for people live within these times. The stories of these people who hold little power remain untold. Who they are, what their dreams were, their fears, their loves, are all lost in the tidal force of their masters’ collective will. But there are ways to divine the truth of the people within the arts of their time. Perhaps most telling is the music that springs to the minds of talented composers. Almost without knowing, these musicians create a road map to the minds of the people, as it is through the support and love of these people that their talents are nourished. Without a listener there is no point to music, after all.
 
  In the interest of such a pursuit of truth I will, within these pages, explore the musical history of Old Port and the great men who composed it. It is a history of struggle and triumph, heroes and villains. But, above all it is a history of perseverance, and a strong, willful (and sometimes tasteless) people.
 
  So let our exploration begin!

[The Band Played On]

The Void (Pre 1053)

I shall begin this history in the cultural void that is the time before the Four Houses settled Old  Port. It was a place for pirates and rapscallions, ruffians and outlaws. The music these men enjoyed was just the rum-soaked, small-minded and witless fare one might expect.

But before we attend to some examples, let me first do my duty to inform the reader of the character of the musicians during this time. They were rough men of low morals accustomed to violence and skullduggery, and they entertained men possessing these very same qualities. As such these men were not artists, and though some few were surely skilled musicians, the music they played was simple, oft perverted to suit the uncouth humor of their audience.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) the names of these men are lost to the ages. However, we do have one or two samples of their songs beyond the written lyrics as some of the music has survived, albeit in the slightly different form of children’s nursery rhymes. The oft taught and sung Spilt Wine being one example, as well as Four Coats. As these are so commonly known in Old  Port I feel no need to repeat them here. Just know that it is simple music, simply played, with lyrics that would bring a blush to the cheeks of all but the most hardened souls.

Near all surviving examples of these compositions bear certain attributes in common. They are bawdy songs of loose women, violent acts (both in battle and in love making), and the type of gutter-born humor one attributes to the dregs of society, lacking in education and common decency. It was a fitting music for these men, the songs themselves describing their values and lives most vividly.

A typical example would be the following verse:

Oh, Sally is the girl down in our alley,

Way, hey, bully in the alley.

Now, Sally is the gal that I spliced nearly,

Bully down in Shinbone Al.

As you can see, dear reader, this is not a gentlemanly ditty.

One might ask, if such disdain is owed this time of musical impotence, why even write of it? I write of it because music is inextricably linked to the men and deeds of the time. As such it is, in a very real sense, history. It paints a picture in ways that dry accounts of names, places and dates cannot. It shows the character of these original inhabitants of this island, and it is a part of us. I daresay that many of the lowest today would enjoy the music these men of low morals wrought. It is an indictment of our times.

Fortunately, things were about to change.

[The Band Played On]

Talent Arrives (1053 â€" 1080)
 
  This sorry state of musical affairs remained until the arrival of the Four Houses from Tethyr. Certainly these were rugged men, but they brought some measure of extravagance with them. Most notable the House of Martel, ever known for their indulgences, had retained one of the most celebrated Tethyrian composers, Armut Lefaire.
 
  How such a man came to the savage shores of the Shrouded Isles is a story in itself, but mostly irrelevant to his work outside it taking on a markedly more moody tone. Armut Lefaire was a composer of middling quality in Tethyr. A student of one of the Tethyrian masters, Jonas Maes, who could not manage to step out of his teacher’s shadow. However, he was well known enough that when Sir Richard Martel sought a composer of some note for his court he found the young Lefaire.
 
  Unfortunately for Lefaire, but fortunately for us, his employ came only a year before the exodus of the Four Houses. Thus our would-be musical savior first needed to endure eleven years of worldly wandering. Surely this impacted on such a sensitive soul greatly, and shaped him into the great man he was to shortly become.
 
  Little is heard of from Lefaire during the earliest few years of the Port’s settlement. One can assume that such a grand endeavor would have prohibited much in the way of grand works. But once these bold Tethyrians began to settle in their new home, his music begins to be heard, greatly changed from his rather vapid aping he was known for while still under the wing of Maes. His most early works bring to mind a sad majesty unheard upon the isles before this time.
 
  Lefaire’s work employs a harpsichord for the continuo parts, with violins soaring over top to comprise the harmony. He is also fond of the use of the bass to lend his compositions weight. This music strayed from the less urgent Tethyrian styles he was raised on. More romantic and powerful to the ear, it became the sound of this fledgling nation. His popularity found Lemaire with many pupils, including one of his last students, Terricho Conveure, who would come to be known as the Prince of the Troubadours.
 
  Lefaire died early in 1080, and was spared the end of Old Port innocence that was the Blackhearth Rebellion. By then his mark was made upon the Port, and all that comes after owes much to him indeed.
 
  So, gentle reader, we bid a fond farewell and give thanks to our father of composers and move on to tragedy and romance, the death of a united Old Port and the rise of the courtly troubadour.

[The Band Played On]

Rebellion and Romance (1080 â€" 1137)

Revolt began with a bastard, appropriately enough. On his deathbed Lord Andrew Blackhearth chose a here-to-for unknown bastard son, Gregor, over his drunkard of a younger brother. How did this affect the music that came out of this time? Likely very little beyond an end to a certain idealism that, somehow, the Port would rise above such politics. But it is appropriate as a landmark to herald the rise of romance and the troubadour in Old Port.

His name was Terricho Conveure, and though Tethyrian, his mother was Amnian. Though not of high birth his talent was seen early by Lefaire, and so late in the great master’s life, the boy was taken under wing. Conveure was a quick student, and at a rather young age was already performing at court.

What made him even more popular were his stunningly good looks. Olive skin and dark, curly locks made him quite popular amongst the gentler sex, and as a result Conveure was much in demand at more casual events. Swiftly he learned that what his most faithful audience wished to hear were songs of love. It was not long before he became widely known as the Prince of the Troubadours.

I should pause to make a note here, dear reader. One must understand that during this time, in the Tethyrian tradition, marriage for the sake of love was a nigh unheard of thing, especially amongst the gentry. Alliances between the Four Houses, as well as the scattered, numerous others whose names have been lost to history, were often sealed through such arranged unions. Families of good breeding would attempt to win themselves more influence and standing by marrying their daughters to houses higher than them. Girls who possessed the proper beauty and grace were most prized indeed by their families.

But then along comes Conveure, followed by a slew of imitators, to spoil the minds of these daughters by regaling them with songs of romance and idealized ideas of love. Keeping in mind this environment, gentle reader, please consider the effect the following might have on young, rebellious minds:

I know I’ve never had joy of her,

Never will she have joy of me,

Nor promise herself, nor will she

Ever now take me as her lover;

No truth or lie does she utter,

To me: and so it may ever be.

It is not difficult to imagine how this thinking would offend the high born families, most especially those of conservative virtue. And it was not simply the daughters either as it was during this time that many women began to compose, and wear the lofty mantle musician. These women swiftly became as popular with the men of the port as the male troubadours were with the women. Though there is no firm proof, there is anecdotal evidence which suggests that the cod piece was most popular as a fashionable accessory during these years. I shall leave the various reasons this might be to your imagination.

All of this made Conveure into the most envied man of the Port, that is until the summer of 1132 when he mysteriously disappeared. The rumor is that the daughter of one of the more influential families had run off with a stable boy, and the patron of said family blamed the oeuvre of the Prince of Troubadours for this, and thus removed him in a most permanent fashion. However none of this can be proven, most especially as this description could describe the motive any number of noblemen.

Though the troubadours continued to play on, enthralling the romantics of the Port with their songs, things were about to swiftly change. What was to come, some say, was the just punishment for the frivolities of the troubadour, and the damage they wrought upon the traditions of the gentry.

[The Band Played On]

The First Shrouding ( 1137 â€" 1148 )
 
  It was atop this landscape of creative invention and marital revolution that the Mist descended upon Old Port and did not lift for eleven years. Madness gripped our fair home, and the cultists who worshipped this Mist began to take hold amongst the more ignorant.
 
  It was claimed by some of these delusional souls that the Mist had come to punish the unworthy, those who would place the pleasures of the flesh above the sanctity of the soul (at least in their minds.) For a time this was a subtle shift, but before the Shroud finally lifted the Dreamers and their ilk had all but taken control.
 
  One of their prime targets became the very troubadours who had so enthralled these very same people just a handful of years before. The troubadour had caused the young to put their own needs before those of their family, they claimed, through the romantic and foolish notions of their verse. And for that they must pay. Many of these talented troubadours were stoned to death, and those who escaped this fate did so by putting aside their instruments. Some few actually joined the cults to atone for their apparent sins.
 
  From the records found, it seems not a single one of the better known female troubadours (or more properly the trobairitz) survived the righteous fury of these cultists. Deemed unfit to repent, they were hunted down and dispatched in the most cruel and public ways imaginable. The famed trobairitz, Jeanne Demarche, was dragged by horses along the streets before being quartered, her various parts paraded about by the mob in a jubilant frenzy.
 
  For eleven long years the music of Old Port degenerated into a confusing morass of stoic chants and droning monotony. We are fortunate that so little of few of these works were written down as they are horribly offensive to any with an ear. I inflicted some of these works upon myself in my studies for the sake of understanding, and I truly hope never to endure such a torture again.
 
  As dark as these times were, however, they were about to become darker when the Shroud finally lifted. The savage orc tribes were about to take the stage, uninvited. However, with the orc came valiant deeds, and these deeds were to spark yet another shift as the troubadour would crawl from hiding and raise up the myth of the selfless hero upon his shoulders for all to see. Creativity and invention would win out, as they always do.