Investiture

"Let your heart do the talking."

Our step-up occured on day three of a five-day event. Our predecessors had their well-planned and naturally-tearful final Court on day two, then everyone had a day to recover. We had an enjoyable and helpful picnic with Their Majesties a few hours ahead of time but, on the whole, a tad more interaction before the event would have been handy (we had tried to arrange this but failed; our successors should have better luck).

The ceremony itself was unexceptional, following Lochac's normal prescriptions. We didn't muff our lines and I dropped the coronet only once. [Note to Royals at invest events: for goodness' sake, the minute the coronets are surrendered to you, invite the incoming B&B to a private place to try them on - preferably with Someone Capable in attendance in case they (the coronets, that is) need some clever adjustments or padding!]

Then our plans went into action. Naturally, we started by appointing our Court, and this quite inadvertently led to a shiny new Baronial motto.

Katherine had prepared court tokens with towers on them, and as she tied each one on to a new Court member's arm, she mentioned that the token carried upon it "the Tower of Southron Gaard, long may she stand!". By the time she'd done this three times, the populace were joining in on the "Long May She Stand", and it's stuck ever since. Instant tradition (and inevitably, we've heard the current Lochac Herald applying it to Lochac recently, and claiming that it dates back to times of yore in the old Principality. Good one :-)

Formalities completed, one of our first acts was deliberately a bit of pure fun. Katherine got up and loudly declared to Their Majesties that we had an "adulterine" house -- in that our home has crenellations on it which require a Royal licence, and we had no such licence. Their Majesties declared themselves happy to help but I regret to say that, many reigns later, our manor still remains adulterine. Paperwork can be slow in the Current Middle Ages...

We had two serious set-pieces for our First Court. One was katherine's gift to the Barony of eight copies of a Southron Gaard Songbook she compiled. Singing has long been dear to our hearts, and we have fond memories of times past when every event setup, breakdown or bunch of kitchen chores seemed to be accompanied by spontaneous singing. So the song-books were an attempt to encourage a return to those days*, and also provided katherine with the opportunity to deliver the line: "...while we do not expect you all to sing with the same voice, yet we would hear you sing in harmony"....

* Welcome to the laws of unintended consequences: as it happens, the songbooks HAVE seen some use, but the marked and welcome singing revival in SG since that time has focused on more elaborate songs and skills for a good few, rather than the more general uptake which we'd originally aimed at. Oh, and: no matter what facilities you may provide as a group, there is little you can do to make stewards want -- or at least reliably remember -- to deploy them :-)

The second serious element in our First Court was Bartholomew's First Spell, reproduced below. This is probably the most blatant piece of in-game social engineering we have attempted in our role. It was dreamed up at 3am (naturally), honed and rehearsed to distraction, and delivered standing rather than from the throne, for maximum effect. I was as nervous as hell about it, but it was an utterly sincere attempt to define what really matters to us and to our populace -- and why -- in a way that might be remembered and applied.

I don't think it did any harm, and the limited feedback I've had suggests the opposite. Wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea though.


Bartholomew's First Spell

I have heard it said of other Barons that their best attribute was that they didn't talk much. From the very start, let there be no misunderstanding: I am not that kind of Baron!

Many Stewards and others past and present have created and nurtured this wondrous event of Canterbury Faire. Thanks to their great efforts, we are privileged to have among us a large number of visitors from outside the Barony. In bidding you right welcome, I must also ask your indulgence for a moment, while I address specifically the populace of Southron Gaard.

For me, the present year is 1170. For nigh on four generations now, the scholars and translators at Toledo - Jews, Moslems and Christians working in concert - have been bringing to us from the Arabic the works of the Ancient Greeks, which had long been thought lost to us.

One of those sages from long ago taught us that the past is a closed book, at best something we can celebrate, or from which we can take guidance. And the future is unknown, unwritten, able to be influenced only by our thoughts and actions in the present. We have only the present, this perpetual shining moment in which to tell each other our stories, to celebrate and learn from our past, and to shape our future.

In this present, as Bartholomew Baskin, Baron of Southron Gaard, in the Crescent Isles of the Kingdom of Lochac in the Knowne Worlde, I know my job: it is to work magic. Accordingly, here is my first spell.

Close your eyes...

In your own past - for some of you over twenty years ago, for others this very weekend - there was a time when you went to your very first event. And perhaps at that event, or perhaps at your second, or your third, an angel gently took your heart, and wrote upon it a love of some of the things that we do in this special world.

It may be a love of martial prowess, of chivalry, of creativity, of pomp and pageantry, of research and discovery, of novelty, of service, of song or dance, of companionship and sharing among the very best kind of friends.

It is still written on your heart, or you would not be here today. Look for it.


Some of you are smiling.


... Open your eyes.

A great man, a great leader, once called upon the "better angels of our nature". Compassion, goodwill, tolerance, enthusiasm and all other good things. These better angels are what you were looking at.

They drive us, they help us avoid and resolve conflicts, they make all things possible which should not be possible. They create miracles. And so, together, in this world, we can work magic of a kind upon one another.

Let these angels be your perpetual shining present, and let them, and only them, shape our Barony's future.

And if you should encounter a newcomer who is wide-eyed and perhaps stands a little amazed at our world, or if you should happen upon a gentle who has not been with us for some time and who has lost sight of their own angel, please sit down patiently with them, and talk with them.

And when you do so, remember this: Let your heart do the talking.