Heere is placed the handling of Picke and Musquet,
with your left hand because there is sundrie of
this Towne who are left handed and de-
sirous to learne to handle both Pickes
and Musquets therewith.

Postures for the left-handed pikeman:

20 Presenting your Picke being shouldered to any quarter, ob-
serue that if hee be a right handed man, that thee right foote
goe alwayes back to one place, and if left handed, his left foote
alwayes backe to one place, at the exercising of these Postures
I also show the reasons, but now it were too tedious.

Musket drill is similar to right-handed. The pan and match are both used with the left hand, the rest is held in the right.

The words for the handling of the
Musket for a left handed man.
The musquet shouldered vpon
the right shoulder.

Note that when you handle your Musquet with
your right hand that your bandelier be over
the left shoulder & vnder the right arme.

Note that when you handle your Musquet with
your right hand that your bandelier be over
the left shoulder & vnder the right arme.

Achesone, A., Gentleman at Arms, The Military Garden, Edinburgh, 1629.

…For there is no man there that bears a head, but that bears military arms; even boys of fourteen years of age are practiced with men in military discipline, every three weeks.

Wood, W., New-England’s Prospect, being a true, lively and experimental Description of that part of America commonly called New-England, London 1639

…you will have young men to muster the time that they must appear at muster must be so soon as they grow to any mans estate: this will be when they are about the age of 14, 15 or 16 years: Then not only more speedily, but also more perfectly all things are learned, the sooner the better. Fore Vergetius sayth truly, that it is better that a young men exercised should allege that his age to fight is not yet come, than he should truly lament that the same were already past. Let young men be exercised betimes, for it is readiness gotten by former practice that maketh a Soldier.

Cooke, E., The Character of Warre, or The Image of Martiall Discipline. London, 1626, Ch
III

17th century remedies from Gervase Markham’s The English Housewife 1615

Firstly: A preventative

Against Drunkenness

If you would not be drunk, take the powder of betony and coleworts [any member of the cabbage family] mixed together; and eat it every morning fasting, as much as will lie upon a sixpence, and it will preserve a man from drunkenness.

In case too much was drunk for the preventative to be effective…

For the headache

For the headache, you shall take of rose-water, of the juice of camomile, or woman’s milk, and of strong wine vinegar, of each two spoonful; mix them together well upon a chafing-dish of coals, then take of a piece of a dry rose cake and steep it therein, and as soon as it hath drunk up the liquor and is thoroughly hot, take a couple of sound nutmegs grated to power, and strew them upon the rose cake; then breaking it into two parts, bind it on each side upon the temples of the head, and so let the party lie down to rest, and the pain will in a short space be taken from him.

Another

The oil of lilies if the head be anointed therewith, is good for any pain therein.

Another

Take rue, and steep it in venigar a day and a night, the rue being first well bruised, then with the same anoint the head twice or thrice a day.

For the swimming of the head

For the swimming or dizzying in the head, you shall take of agnus castus, of broomwort, and of camomile dried, of each two drams, mix it with the juice of ivy, oil of roses and white wine, of each a like quantity, till it come to a thick salve: and then bind it to the temples of the head, and it will in short space take away the grief.

Finally, for those who suffer from longer term effects…

A restorative for the liver

Take fennel roots, and parsley roots, of each a like, wash them clean, and peel off the upper bark and cast away the pith within, then mince them small, then put them to three pints of water, and set them over the fire; then take figs, and shred them small, liquorice and break it small, and put them to the herbs, and let all boil very well, then take sorrel and stamp it and put it to the rest, and let it boil till some part be wasted, then take a good quantity of honey and put to it and boil a while, then take it from the fire and clarify it through a strainer into a glass vessel and stop it very close, then give the sick to drink thereof morning and evening.

Gout

For the gout, take aristolochia rotunda, althea, betony, and the roots of wild nep [probably ground ivy], and the root of the wild dock cut into thin pieces after the upper rind is taken away, of each a like quantity, boil them all in running water till they be soft and thick: then stamp them in a mortar as small as may be, and put thereto a little quantity of chimney soot, and a pint or better of new milk of a cow which is all of one entire colour, and as much if the urine of a man that is fasting, and having stirred them all well together, boil them once again on the fire; then, as hot as the party can suffer it, apply it to the grieved place, and it will give him ease.

For the hot gout

For the hot gout [highly inflamed], take five of six spoonsful of the juice of hemlock, and as much swine’s grease finely clarified [LARD!!!!! ], and beating them well together anoint the sort place with the same, and it will give sudden ease.

(also known as The Anthem)

From Macquarie to Gundaroo
From Odinfest to Morrisset too…

(chorus)
We must be strong and brave
The Mediæval Movement we’ve got to save
If the SCA plot suck-ceeds (ih! ih!)
They’ll destroy reality….

They ponce about in fancy dress
And suck up to the Baroness
They think that life’s a game of D&D…

(chorus)

They fool around with wooden sticks
They think they’re cool, but THEY’RE JUST PR*CKS!
They can’t accept that swords are made from steel…

(chorus)

They hit each other with rattan canes
And pulverise their stupid brains
They’ve never read a work of history…

(chorus)

(…and they did!)

© Andy Sinclair
Traditional, Orig. Macquarie Hackers (Tune: Starblazers)

Truly the Song of Songs! Where is the true re-enactor whose heart does not swell at the sound of its immortal strains? Where is the SCA dick-dog who does not cringe (or laugh) as their dirty (Lycra™) laundry is aired?

Originally written by the Macquarie Hackers, the University-based Mediaeval group whose members went on to form the core of the Routiers, this has to be one of the most well-known songs in the re-enactment scene. The second line originally said “From Odinfest to Maldon too”, but after the Routier’s historic victory at Morrissett, the name of that immortal battleground was substituted as being… how shall we say … more appropriate?

(tune: “O Tannenbaum” or “Oh Christmas Tree”)

O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
We saw your burning towers
O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
The fires burnt for hours
The people ther died by the score
Hundreds then, and thousands more
O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
Your people are no more…

O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
We saw your people burning
O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
Our stomachs were a-churning
The screams of death, they rent the air
A carnage caused by Routiers
O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
I’m glad that I was there!

(Commercial Verse)
That time has passed, but have no fear
New Magdeburg is rising
The tavern here is full of beer
And many people dicing
So come along, and have good cheer
A dollar fifty for a beer
O Magdeburg, O Magdeburg
Your spirit lives on here!

©1991 Dick Dog Music
by Sarge and Spike of the Routiers

This one was actually written (well, scrawled down on one of Helmut’s tissues) during a quiet moment at the New Magdeberg Tavern at the 1991 Convention. Sarge was in fine form that day, and we even wrote a commercial verse to attract the punters.

(to the tune of “I am Woman”)

WARNING: This song is not for the faint of heart!!

I am Routier, hear me roar
‘Cause I’m just too foul to ignore
And I bear the scars of Thirty Years of War;
I’ve got gout in me legs
And my teeth are blackened pegs,
But I’ll always find some comfort at the keg.

Oh, yes! I’m a thug, and I’m paid to dish out pain,
And yes, I’ll pay the price, but look how much I’ve gained,
If I’m paid to, I will do anything…
I am tough! (Tough!)
I am invincible (Invincible!)
I am Routier!

And When cannon’s mouths do roar,
And Imperial eagles soar,
Above the swaying mass of fighting men,
Then you’ll find me at the back
Of a furious attack,
Marching with my ashen pike on high;

Oh, yes! I am brave, but it’s courage brewed in beer
Yes! After a few jugs, I know there’s nought to fear,
If I’m drunk enough, I will fight anyone…
I am drunk! (Drunk!)
I am invincible! (Invincible!)
I am Routier!

And when the battle’s won
And the foe is on the run,
Then it’s time for all good soldiers to have fun….
Then I’ll get among the sluts
In the baggage trains and huts
And vent my lust between a young girl’s legs;

Oh, Yes! I am Gross, but it’s grossness born of need,
And yes! I’ll pay the price when my penis starts to bleed.
When I’m lustful, I will f*ck anything!
I am lewd! (Lewd!)
I’ve got syphilis! (Syphilis!)
I am Routier…….

©1989 Pierre La Bosche

One of the most well-known Routier songs, this may well be Pierre’s finest effort. It is as thoroughly disgusting to listen to as it is fun to sing, and is known as far and wide as the Routiers themselves are known. If we had a companie song, this would be it. Halleluleuh!

Being an catch with subtle humour wasted on no-one, Not even the boneheaded.

Here are the words of the catch, a simple song intended to be sung in rounds by drunken make-merry types, often with humourous intent. It was once sung by a certain Swedish Cultural Ensemble at the XAMC bardic competition to rapturous applause, appreciation and much appropriate mirth and joy. It probably would have won if not for the fact that the ensemble contained two of the judges who, in truth, contributed much of its talent, and thus disqualified itself.

When Celia was learning on the Spinnet to play,
her Tutor stood by her to show her
to show her
to show her, to show her the way.

She shook not the note, which anger’d him much,
and made him cry “Zounds!
’tis a long prick,
a long prick,
a long prick’d note you touch,”

Surprised was the Lady to hear him complain,
and said it and said and said,
I will shake it
I will shake it when I come to’t again.

A catch, a simple song intended to be sung in rounds by drunken make-merry types, this one to be sung in a four Voice round, for as many times as will.

‘Tis Women makes us Love,
‘Tis Love that makes us sad,
‘Tis sadness makes us Drink,
And Drinking makes us Mad.

Robert Monro, a Scottish soldier quoted this song in an account of the German campaigns written in 1637. The tune existed at least by 1624.

Soldiers with swords in hands, to the walls coming
Horsemen about the streets, riding and running
Sentinels on the walls, arm, arm, a-crying
Petards against the ports, wild fire a-flying
When Cannons are roaring
and bullets are flying
He that would honour win
must not fear dying!
Trumpets on turrets high, these are a-sounding
Drums beating out aloud, echoes resounding
Alarm bells in each place, they are a-ringing
Women with stones in laps, to the walls bringing.
When Cannons are roaring, etc.
Captains in open fields, on their foes rushing
Gentlemen second them, with their pikes pushing
Engineers in the trench, earth, earth uprearing
Gunpowder in the mines, pagans upblowing
When Cannons are roaring, etc.
Portcullis in the ports, they are down-letting
Berghers come flocking by, too their hands setting
Ladders against the walls, they are uprearing
Women great timber logs, to the walls bearing
When Cannons are roaring, etc.