ix.

Leave the First One Out

Act III — What Survived Released Approx. 4:24

About this track

1041–42. Harthacnut is king and Edward is back at court. Emma has been queen of England for thirty-nine years under two dynasties. She sends to Flanders for a monk of Saint-Bertin, pays him before he starts, and when he asks where the story ought to begin, she tells him: ten sixteen. The book he writes for her, the Encomium Emmae Reginae, never once names Æthelred, the king she was married to for fourteen years. This is the album’s title track. The universal underneath is that you get one chance to tell your side, and the version you tell is the one everybody keeps.

The previous track ends on Nobody has ever asked me what I wrote, and this one answers with what she paid to have written. Every verse touches the book: the ink and the calfskin, the year it starts in, and the picture on its first leaf of the queen enthroned with the monk on his knees and my two sons behind a painted post, by two men — and the book gives them one. The register is cold satisfaction. She does not grieve, gloat or confess. She dictates, and dictation is a claim. The bridge jumps nearly a thousand years to the archive: a room with no fire, and clean hands turning the leaves, and I will be the one they believe.

Two female voices carry it: the low mezzo that never lifts, and a women’s Latin plainchant office that moves a step on each chorus. In the first it sits wordless behind her, in the second it sings the words with her, and in the last it sings over the top of her, so the book she paid for drowns her out. The chorus counts down from leave the first one out to the first two to leave them both out, and the stamp moves from the book agrees to the book is all there is. The arrangement is a monastery hand-bell and a dry xylophone ticking like a book being made, cello underneath, and alto flute on the vision. It ends on the album’s secondary thesis: Nobody ever found the letter.

Track 09 of 11 Act III — What Survived Cadence Anglo-Danish symphonic metal at 118 BPM — hand-bell, dry xylophone and psaltery over cello, tremolo guitars from the first chorus, a women’s Latin office that ends up singing over her; cold satisfaction

Intro

Spoken, dry and low, over a struck hand-bell and a cello drone.

I sent to Flanders for a man who could write,
and I paid him before he began.

Verse 1

Sung low over psaltery and dry xylophone. No guitars yet.

He came with his own ink and his own hand,
and thirty sheets of calfskin scraped and pinned,
he asked me where the story ought to start,
and I began in ten sixteen,

Pre-Chorus

The psaltery tightens, the cello goes lower.

Fourteen years I was married to a king,
and there is no year in it before the ships,

Chorus 1

Full band, tremolo guitars. The Latin office wordless behind her.

Write it clean, write it Latin, write it mine,
write the ships and the crown and the psalm,
write my sons in behind me,
and leave the first one out,
Twice a queen — and the book agrees,

Riff Break

Tremolo guitars, the xylophone ticking underneath.

Verse 2

Driving now — psaltery and xylophone, the guitars holding.

He drew me sitting with the book held out,
and the monk on his knees with his hands up,
and my two sons behind a painted post,
by two men — and the book gives them one,

Pre-Chorus 2

Cello lower, guitars palm-muted. Flat, almost bored.

He never wrote the name of the first king,
and I never had to ask,

Chorus 2

Bigger. The office now sings the words with her.

Write it clean, write it Latin, write it mine,
write the ships and the crown and the psalm,
write my sons in behind me,
and leave the first two out,
Twice a queen — and the book is kind,

Verse 3

The same weight, no escalation.

It was finished in the year I had them both,
and I had it read where both of them could hear,
and one of them was dead inside the year,
and the other came to Winchester for me,

Bridge

Half-tempo. Solo alto flute over cello, her voice alone, the office gone.

They will keep it in a room with no fire,
and turn the leaves with clean hands,
and read the year I chose to start in,
and take it for the truth,
and I will be the one they believe,

Instrumental

Xylophone and psaltery over the main riff, the drums building.

Final Chorus

The biggest pass. The Latin office sings over the top of her; the mezzo is underneath and buried.

Write it clean, write it Latin, write it mine,
write the ships and the crown and the psalm,
write my sons in behind me,
and leave them both out,
Twice a queen — and the book is all there is,
and the book is what they’ll read,

Outro

The office gone. Her voice alone with the cello, dry. Hard cut.

Everything anyone knows about that year
comes through a man I paid.
Nobody ever found the letter.

The history

1041–42 · the English court of Harthacnut · Emma commissions the <em>Encomium Emmae Reginae</em> from a monk of Saint-Bertin

Source: Encomium Emmae Reginae, British Library Add MS 33241 (ed. Campbell, introduction by Keynes, 1998); the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle s.a. 1042–43; Stafford, Queen Emma and Queen Edith (1997)

Named figures

Emma of Normandy Queen-mother, about fifty-six; commissions the book, and tells its author which year to start in
The Encomiast An anonymous monk of Saint-Bertin at Saint-Omer in Flanders — a man who could write, paid in advance
Harthacnut and Edward Her sons by Cnut and by Æthelred, drawn together behind her in the frontispiece; the book was written for both of them to hear
Æthelred II Her first husband, king of England 978–1016. Not named anywhere in the book — the first one

What this song renders

The book survives. Written for Emma in 1041–42 by a monk of Saint-Bertin, the Encomium Emmae Reginae tells Swein’s conquest of England, Cnut’s reign and his marriage to her, and the struggle over the throne after 1035, all in her interest. It was aimed at a delicate moment, with Harthacnut king and Edward, her son by Æthelred, brought home as his likely heir. It says the letter that drew her son Alfred to his death in 1036 was forged in her name by Harold Harefoot. It never mentions Æthelred, and it presents her marriage to Cnut as though she had come to him unmarried.

Verse 2 is the frontispiece, which is real. Emma sits enthroned, receiving the book from the kneeling author, and two young men stand at the side behind a column. They are generally read as Harthacnut and Edward: two sons by two kings, with one family shown. A second medieval copy, rediscovered in 2008, has a revised ending that is kinder to Edward, which suggests the book was edited to fit the politics after Harthacnut’s death.

Verse 3 compresses the timeline. Harthacnut died in June 1042, and Edward did not ride to Winchester and strip his mother of her treasure until November 1043, so inside the year and the other came run the two events about a year closer than they were. The letter in the outro has never been found. The song never says whether she wrote it, and neither does the record.

Verdict

Documented. The commission, the author’s house, the date, the silence on Æthelred, the forged-letter claim and the frontispiece all survive in the manuscript itself. Emma naming ten sixteen and paying in advance are the song’s. The book actually opens on Swein’s invasion a few years earlier, but it brings her on stage as Cnut’s bride with no first marriage behind her, which is what the song means. The compression in Verse 3 is the song’s own.

See the full Truth, Saga & Legend entry →