91 The Anglo-Saxon laws have been edited by William Lambarde, London, 1568, 4to.; Abraham Whelock, Cambridge, 1644; Wilkins, London, 1721, folio; Dr. Reinhold Schmid, Leipzig, 1832; Thorpe, 1840; Schmid, ed. 2, 1858. It is Schmid’s second edition that is spoken of above.
92 Ine is to be pronounced as a word of two syllables.
93 Palgrave, “English Commonwealth,” i., 46.
94 Grimm, “Legal Antiquities,” § 10, quotes some widely-scattered parallels: from Rügen he produces the proverb, “Mit der exe stelt men nicht” (with the axe men steal not); and from Wetterau, “Wan einer hauet, so ruft er” (when one hews, he shouts). He dubs the Anglo-Saxon formula the more poetical (poetischer).
95 “These secret compositions are forbidden by nearly every early code of Europe; for by such a proceeding both the judge and the Crown lost their profits. The “Capitulary” of 593 puts the receiver of a secret composition on a level with the thief: ‘Qui furtum vult celare, et occulte sine judice compositionem acceperit, latroni similis est.’ And even now in common law, the rule is to obtain the sanction of the Court for permission ‘to speak with the prosecutor,’ and thus terminate the suit by compounding the affair in private.”—Thorpe. The reason assigned is, however, not the whole reason.
96 “Saxons in England,” vol. ii., p. 208.
97 I.e., go to the Danish camp in East Anglia.
98 Here we have to understand two distinct kings of the name of Guthrum.
99 Coote, “The Romans of Britain,” p. 397.
100 “Documents Illustrative of English History,” p. 60.
101 “Ancient Law,” chap. x. init.
102 Palgrave, “Anglo-Saxon Commonwealth;” Stubbs, “Constitutional History;” Heinrich Brunner, “Die Entstehung der Schwurgerichte,” Berlin, 1872.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CHRONICLES.
Of the historical writings that remain from the Anglian period—namely, those of Æddi and Bede, we have already spoken; the subject of the present chapter will be the Saxon Chronicles and the Latin histories which are more or less related to these Chronicles.
The habit of putting together annals began to be formed very early. In our Chronicles there are some entries that may perhaps be older than the conversion of our people. The contributors to Bede’s “History” would appear to have sent in their parts more or less in the annalistic form. That form is even now but slightly veiled in the grouped arrangement into which the venerable historian has, with little reconstruction but considerable skill, cast his materials. Annal-writing, we may venture to say, had by his time become a recognised habit in literature, and there is extant a brief Northumbrian Chronicle which ends soon after Bede’s death.103 Continuous with this we have a series of annals which were produced in the north, and which are now imbedded in the West Saxon Chronicles; but the traces of their birth are not obliterated. Such vernacular annals were probably at first designed as little more than notes and memoranda to serve for a Latin history to be written another day; but the Danish wars broke the tradition of Latin learning, and made a wide opening which gave opportunity for the elevation of a vernacular literature. There is no part of Anglo-Saxon literature more characterised by spontaneity than are the Saxon Chronicles. Nowhere can we better see how the mother-tongue received the devolution of the literary office in an unexpected way when the learned literature was suddenly and violently displaced.
One of the strong features of these Chronicles is the genealogies of the kings, ascending mostly to Woden as their mythical ancestor. The most complete of these is that of the West Saxon kings, which is prefixed to the Parker manuscript in manner of a preface. This genealogy was originally made for Ecgbryht, who reigned from 800 to 836,—it was made at his death, and it comprised the accession of his son, Æthelwulf. Subsequently an addition was made, which continued the line of kings down to Alfred, and closed with the date of his accession. This, when combined with the fact that the first hand in this book ends with 891, seems to fix the date of the Winchester Chronicle. This interesting appendix is as follows:—
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Ond tha feng Æthelbald his sunu to rice and heold v gear. Tha feng Æthelbryht his brother to and heold v gear. Tha feng Æthered hiera brothur to rice and heold v gear. Tha feng Ælfred hiera brothur to rice and tha wæs agan his ielde xxiii wintra, and ccc and xcvi wintra thæs the his cyn ærest Wessexana lond on Wealum geodon. |
And then Æthelbald his son took to the realm and held it 5 years. Then succeeded Æthelbryht his brother, and held 5 years. Then Æthered their brother took to the realm, and held 5 years. Then took Alfred their brother to the realm, and then was agone of his age 23 years; and 396 years from that his race erst took Wessex from the Welsh. |
These Chronicles are remarkable for a certain unconscious ease and homeliness. Even when, in the course of their progress, they grow more copious and mature, they hardly discover any consciousness of literary dignity. Of the Latin writings of the Anglo-Saxon period this could not be said. This naïveté is naturally more observable in the earlier parts, which seem like rescued antiquities, which might have been built into their place when, in the latter end of the eighth or beginning of the ninth century, the importance of the national and vernacular chronicle began to be realised.
Some of the brief entries concerning the various settlements on the coasts and the early contests with the Britons have the appearance of traditional reminiscences that had been preserved in popular songs. Such is that of 473, that the Welsh flew the English like fire; 491, that Ælle and Cissa besieged Andredescester, and slew all those that therein dwelt—there was not so much as one Bret left; 584, how that Ceawlin, in his expedition up the Vale of Severn, where his brother fell, took many towns and untold spoils, and, angry, he turned away to his own.
Mingled with these are entries which, though ingenious, are hardly less spontaneous. Such are those in which there is a manifest rationalising upon the names of historical sites, and a fanciful discovery of their heroes or founders. Thus, in 501, we read that Port landed in Britain at the place called Portsmouth. Now, we know that the first syllable in Portsmouth is the Latin portus, a harbour, and it seems plain that here we have a name made into a personage. In 534 we read how Cynric gave the Isle of Wight to Stuf and Wihtgar, and how Wihtgar died in 544, and was buried at Wihtgaraburg, also called Wihtgaræsburh. Here the person of Wihtgar has been made out of the name of the place, because that name was understood as meaning Castle of Wihtgar. But it meant the Burgh “of” Wihtgar only in the sense of the Burgh which was called Wihtgar. The last syllable, gar, is the British word for burg, fortress, castle, which the Welsh call Caer to this day. And the Saxons, having often to use the word gar in this sense—much as our reporters of New Zealand affairs have to speak of a pa—distinguished the gar that was in Wiht, as Wihtgar, and then they added their own word, burh, as the interpretation of gar, and after a time the historian, finding the name of Wihtgarburh, took Wihtgar for a man, and called it Wihtgar’s Burg, Wihtgaresburh, a genitive form which still lives in “Carisbrooke.”
The originals of the Chronicles are preserved in seven different books. They are known by the signatures A, B, C, D, E, F, G.
A, the famous book in Archbishop Parker’s library, preserved in Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. The structure of this book indicates that it was made in 891, and, indeed, the penmanship of this copy—at least, of the compilation—may possibly be as old as the lifetime of King Alfred. It bears the local impress of Winchester, except in the latest continuation, 1005-1070, which appears to belong to Canterbury. It seems to have passed from Canterbury to the place where it is now deposited; but that it was a Winchester book in its basis seems indicated by the regular notices of the bishops of Wessex from 634 to 754, by the diction of the compilation to 891, and especially by that of the remarkable continuation, 893-897.
B, British Museum, Cotton Library, Tiberius A. vi. Closes with the year 977, and was probably written at St. Augustine’s, Canterbury.
C, British Museum, Cotton Library, Tiberius B. i. The first handwriting stops at 1046, and is probably of that date. Closes with 1066. Apparently a work of the monks of Abingdon.
D, British Museum, Cotton Library, Tiberius B. iv. The first hand, which stops at 1016, may well be of that date. Closes with 1079. This book contains strong internal evidence of being a product of Worcester Abbey.
E, Bodleian Library, Laud, 636. This is the fullest of all extant Chronicles; it embodies most of the contents of the others, and it adds the largest quantity of new and original history. It gives seventy-five years’ history beyond any of the others, and closes with the death of Stephen in 1154. The local relations of this book are unmistakable. The first hand ends with 1121, and all the evidence goes to prove that this book was prepared at that date in the abbey of Peterborough. On Friday, August 3, 1116, a great fire had occurred at Peterborough which had destroyed the town and a large part of the abbey, and this book was apparently undertaken among the acts of restoration. The varying shades of Saxon which this book contains, both in the compilation and in the several continuations, render it of great value for the history of the English language, especially in the obscure period of the twelfth century.
F, British Museum, Cotton Library, Domitian A. viij. A bilingual Chronicle, Latin and Saxon, which, by internal evidence, is assigned to Christ Church, Canterbury. The abrupt ending at 1058 is no indication of the book’s date: it was written late in the twelfth century.
G, British Museum, Cotton Library, Otho B. xi. A late copy of A, made probably in the twelfth century. It nearly perished in the fire of 1731, and only three leaves have been rescued; but happily the book had, before this disaster, been published entire and without intermixture by Wheloc; and, consequently, his edition is now the chief representative of this authority.
Of these books there are three which are distinguished above the rest by individuality of character. These are the Parker book (A); the Worcester book (D); and the Peterborough book (E). A Chronicle may have a marked individuality in two ways—that is to say, either in its compilation or in its continuation. I will give an example of each kind. The first shall be from the Worcester Chronicle, which combines with the former stock of southern history a valuable body of northern history between the years 737 and 806. The following are selected as being annals which, either wholly or in part, are derived from a northern source. The new matter is indicated by inverted commas:—
In these few selections the orthography shows occasional relics of the northern dialect; and an expression here and there, such as “Ceaster” for York, indicates the writer’s locality. Apart, however, from such traces, the contents and the domestic interest would sufficiently declare the home of these annals. They are specimens of the vernacular annals of the north, which are now best seen in bulk in Simeon of Durham’s Latin Chronicle.
Our next example will serve to illustrate the free writing of an original continuation. It is taken from the Winchester Chronicle (A). This Chronicle exhibits, in the annals of 893-897, the first considerable piece of original historical composition that we have in the vernacular. Indeed, we may say that these pages, on the whole, contain the finest effort of early prose writing that we possess. The quotation relates how Alfred set to work to construct a navy:—
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Thy ilcan geare drehton tha hergas on East Englum and on Northhymbrum West Seaxna lond swithe be thæm suth stæthe . mid stæl hergum . ealra swithust mid thæm æscum the hie fela geara ær timbredon. Tha het Alfred cyng timbran lang scipu ongen tha æscas104 . tha wæron fulneah tu swa lange swa tha othru . sume hæfdon lx ara . sume ma. Tha wæron ægther ge swiftran ge unwealtran . ge eac hieran thonne tha othru. Næron nawther ne on Fresisc gescæpene . ne on Denisc . bute swa him selfum thuhte thæt hie nytwyrthoste beon meahten. |
That same year the armies in East Anglia and in Northhymbria distressed the land of the West Saxons very much about the south coast with marauding invasions; most of all with the “æscas” that they had built many years before. Then king Alfred gave orders to build long ships against the “æscas;” those were well-nigh twice as long as the others; some had 60 oars, some more. Those were both swifter and steadier, and also higher than the others. They were not shaped either on the Frisic or on the Danish model, but as he himself considered that they might be most serviceable. |
The most extensive original continuations are in the Peterborough Chronicle (E). From one of these I quote the character of the Conqueror, which accompanies the record of his death in 1086. The passage is remarkable as containing the nearest approach to a discovery of authorship that anywhere occurs in these Chronicles:—
These annals being all anonymous, every indication of the date of writing excites interest. Under 643 the chronicler of B added a single word to what he had before him (as we may presume) in his copy. That copy said that the church at Winchester was built by order of King Cenwalh. The chronicler of B says that the “old” church was built by Cenwalh. This harmonises excellently with other indications of this Chronicle, by which it is made probable that it was compiled in or about 977, when Bishop Æthelwold had built a new church at Winchester.
In the Peterborough Chronicle, under 1041, the accession of Eadward is accompanied by a benediction which indicates that the writer wrote near the time, or at least before 1065. He says:—Healde tha hwile the him God unne = May he continue so long as God may be pleased to grant to him! And the half legible closing sentence of this Chronicle, in 1154, is a prayer of the same kind for a new abbot of Peterborough, of whom it is said that “he hath made a fair beginning.”
The Saxon Chronicles offer one of the best examples of history which has grown proximately near to the events, of history written while the impression made by the events was still fresh. It would be difficult to point to any texts through which the taste for living history—history in immediate contact with the events—can better be cultivated.
The Chronicles stretch over a long period of time. As to their contents, they extend as a body of history from A.D. 449 to 1154—that is, exclusive of the book-made annals that form a long avenue at the beginning, and start from Julius Cæsar. The period covered by the age of the extant manuscripts is hardly less than 300 years, from about A.D. 900 to about A.D. 1200. A large number of hands must have wrought from time to time at their production, and, as the work is wholly anonymous and void of all external marks of authorship, the various and several contributions can only be determined by internal evidence, and this offers a fine arena for the exercise and culture of the critical faculty.
It is no small addition to the charm and value of these Chronicles that they are in the mother tongue at several stages of its growth, and for the most part in the best Anglo-Saxon diction. We have, moreover, the very soil of the history under our feet, and this study would tend to invest our native land with all the charm of classic ground.
The Chronicle form is the foundation of the structure of historical literature. We are no longer content to study history now in one or two admirable specimens of mature perfection, but rather we seek to know history as a subject. All who have this aim must study Chronicles, and nowhere can this kind of documentary record be found in a form preferable to that of the Saxon Chronicles.
The Saxon Chronicles are sometimes said to be meagre; indeed, it has almost become usual to speak of them as meagre. When such a term is used, it makes all the difference whether it is made vaguely and at random, or with meaning and discrimination. The Saxon Chronicles stretch over seven centuries, from the middle of the fifth to the middle of the twelfth; and it would indeed be wonderful if in such a series of annals there were not some arid tracts. Certainly, there are meagre places, and it makes all the difference whether a writer uses this epithet wisely or as a mere echo. In the following quotation it is justly used:—“For the history of England in the latter half of the tenth century we have, except the very meagre notices of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, no contemporary materials, unless we admit the Lives of the Saints of the Benedictine revival.”105 In the latter half of the tenth century the Chronicles really are meagre, and it is a remarkable fact, seeing that the period was one of revived literary activity.
This account of the Chronicles would be incomplete without the mention of a small number of Latin histories which are naturally linked with them. The Latin book of most mark in this connexion is Asser’s “Life of Alfred”—a book that has long lain under a cloud of doubt, from which, however, it seems to be gradually emerging. (A foolish interpolation about Oxford which marred the second edition—that by Camden—has left a stigma on the name.) It is not easy to answer all the adverse criticism of Mr. T. Wright; but still I venture to think that the internal evidence corresponds to the author’s name, that it was written at the time of, and by such a person as, Alfred’s Welsh bishop. The evident acquaintance with people and with localities, the bits of Welsh, the calling of the English uniformly “Saxons,” all mark the Welshman who was at home in England. In the course of this biography, which seems to have been left in an unfinished state, there is a considerable extract from the Winchester Chronicles translated into Latin.
But the earliest Latin Chronicle which was founded on the Saxon Chronicles is that of Æthelweard. He is apparently the “ealdorman Æthelwerd,” to whom Ælfric addressed certain of his works; and he may be the “Æthelwerd Dux” who signs charters, 976-998. His Chronicle closes with the last year of Eadgar’s reign. He took much of his material from a Saxon Chronicle, like that of Winchester, but he has also matter peculiar to himself; and this raises a question whether he took such matter from a Saxon Chronicle now lost. He is grandiloquent and turgid to an extent which often obscures his meaning. In him we perceive all the word-eloquence of Saxon poetry, striving to utter itself through the medium of a Latinity at once crude and ambitious.106
The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester terminates with 1117; but a continuator carried it on to 1141, making use of the Peterborough Chronicle (E). The work of Florence is often identifiable with the Saxon Chronicles, especially with that of Worcester (D). But he has good original insertions of his own, as in his description of the election and coronation of Harold, on which Mr. Freeman has dwelt, as a record intended to correct Norman misrepresentation.
Simeon of Durham made large use of Florence, and he incorporated the Northumbrian eighth-century Chronicle, of which a specimen has been given above.
Henry of Huntingdon closed his annals at the same date as the latest of the Saxon Chronicles, A.D. 1154. He is a historian of secondary rank, with antiquarian tastes, a fondness for the Saxon Chronicles, and a special fancy for the genealogies and the ballads. To him we owe the earliest known mention of Stonehenge.
All these, except Asser and Æthelweard, are, as regards our Chronicles, subsequent and derivative rather than collateral. They used the chronicles as translators and compilers merely. The first who attempted something more was William of Malmesbury. This remarkable writer (who in 1140 came near to being elected Abbot of Malmesbury) was the first after Beda who left the annal form, and aimed at a more comprehensive treatment of the national history. He recognised the value of traditions from the Saxon times, which in his day were still to be gathered, and it is by the incorporation of such elements that his book has in some respects the character of a supplement to the Saxon Chronicles.
We cannot but be struck with the isolation of the Saxon Chronicles. Great literary products do not grow up alone; but they have, doubtless, a tendency to create a solitude around them. Professor Stubbs apprehends such may have been the case with these Chronicles. He has surmised that probably the Chronicles had the same effect upon the previous schemes of history that Higden’s “Polychronicon” had in the fourteenth century, that is to say, it would have prevented the writing of new histories, and caused the neglect or destruction of the old.107
103 Lappenberg, “Geschichte,” Introduction, p. xlviii.; referring to Hickes’ “Thesaurus,” iii., 288; and the preface to Smith’s edition of Bede. That lover of English history, Dr. Reinhold Pauli, in the Göttingen “Gelehrt. Anzeig.” for 1866, p. 1407, suggested that the whole mediæval institution of annal-writing came from Northumbria, and was carried on the mission-path of the Saxons into Frankland and Germany, and there produced the fine Carlovingian series.
104 The “æscas” were the light and speedy galleys of the Danes.
105 Professor Stubbs, “Memorials of Saint Dunstan,” Rolls Series, p. ix.
106 Reinhold Pauli, “Life of Alfred,” anno 877, note.
107 Preface to “Chronica Rogeri de Hoveden,” Rolls Series, p. xi.
CHAPTER IX.
ALFRED’s TRANSLATIONS.
Around the great name of Alfred many attributes have gathered and clustered, some of which are true, some exaggerated, some impossible. It is quite unhistorical that Alfred divided the country into shires and hundreds, or that he instituted trial by jury, or that he founded the University of Oxford. Under the shadow of great names myths are apt to spring, that is to say, unconscious authorless inventions, growing up of themselves round any person or thing which happens to be the subject of much talk and little knowledge. Had the conditions been favourable in England as they were in France, the myths about Alfred might have grouped into an epic cycle, as those about Charlemagne did; and, had the eleventh century produced a great heroic poem analogous to the “Chanson de Roland,” it would have formed a graceful and much-needed coping to the now too disjointed pile of Anglo-Saxon literature.
But, when we come to Alfred’s literary achievements, we find no tendency to exaggerate or embellish the sober truth. His hand is manifest in the Laws, and strongly surmised in the Chronicles. In both these vernacular products we find a new start, a fresh impulse, under Alfred. But that which stamps a peculiar character on his Translations is that here we discern a new stride in the elevation of the native language to literary rank. Latin was no longer to be the sole medium of learning and education.
The learned language had almost perished out of the island where it had once so eminently flourished. In the north the seats of learning had been demolished; and the monasteries of Wessex, their first use as mission-stations having been discharged, had become secularised in their habits, and had not become seats or seminaries of learning. Alfred found no one in his ancestral kingdom who could aid him in the work of revival. Like Charles the Great, he looked everywhere for scholars, and drew them to his court. In Mercia, the land adjoining scholastic Anglia, he found a few learned men—Werferth, bishop of Worcester; Plegmund, who was elected (A.D. 890) archbishop of Canterbury, and two of obscurer name;108 he drew Grimbald from Gaul, and John from Old Saxony; Asser, from whose pen we know about these scholars, came to him from South Wales. With the help of such men Alfred gave a new impulse to literature, not as Charles had done, in Latin merely, but as much, or even more, in his own vernacular.
We must not look upon his translations as if they were only makeshifts to convey the matter of famous books to those who could not read the originals. Alfred deplored the low state of Latin,—but then he could substitute his own language for it, and that not merely because he must, but also because the very scarcity of Latin had favoured the culture of English. For it was in no dull or stagnant time that Wessex had let Latin wane; it was in that vigorous stage of youth and growth when Wessex was fitting herself to take an imperial place at home and raise her head among the nations. In almost all the transactions of life, public and private, where Latin was used in other countries, the West Saxons had for a long time used their own tongue, and hence it came to pass that, when Alfred sought to restore education and literature, he found a language nearer to him than the Latin, and one which was fit, if not to supersede the Latin, yet to be coupled along with it in the work of national instruction.
Of all Alfred’s translations, the foremost place is due to that of Gregory’s “Pastoral Care.”109 Both internally and externally it is honoured with marks of distinction. The translation is executed with a peculiar care, and a copy was to be sent to every See in the kingdom. The very copy that was destined for Worcester is preserved in the Bodleian; and there it may be seen by any passing visitor, lying open (under glass) at the page with the Worcester address, and the bishop’s name (Wærferth) inserted in the salutation. The copy that was addressed to Hehstan, bishop of London, is not extant; but a transcript of it, written (in Wanley’s opinion) before the Conquest, is in the Cotton Library, or so much of it as the fire has left. The Public Library at Cambridge has a representative of the copy which was addressed to Wulfsige, bishop of Sherborne. Another Cotton manuscript, which was almost consumed (Tiberius, B. xi.), had happily been described by Wanley before the fire. In this book the place for the bishop’s name was blank; and there was this marginal note on the first leaf: ✠ Plegmunde arcebisc’. is agifen his boc. and Swiðulfe bisc’. ⁊ Werferðe bisc’., i.e., Plegmund, archbishop, has received his book, and Swithulf, bishop, and Werferth, bishop.110 This book, therefore, of which only fragments now remain, was like the Hatton manuscript in the Bodleian, one of Alfred’s originals.
Thus the Bodleian book (Hatton 20, formerly 88), for originality and integrity remains unique; and from it we quote the opening part of Alfred’s prefatory epistle:—
The king goes on to say that he remembered how, before the general devastation, the churches were well stocked with books, and how there were plenty, too, of clergy, but they were not able to make much use of the books, because the culture of learning had been neglected. Their predecessors of a former generation had been learned, but now the clergy had fallen into ignorance. Wherefore, it seemed that there was no remedy but to have the books translated into the language they understood. And this (the king reflected) was according to precedent; for the Old Testament was first written in Hebrew, and then the Greeks in their time translated it into their speech, and subsequently the Romans did the like for themselves. And all other Christian nations had translated some Scriptures into their own language.
Here we have a direct statement that the “Pastoral” was translated by King Alfred himself, after a course of study in which he had been assisted by Plegmund, Asser, Grimbald, and John. His interest in this book seems to show that his estimate of it was something like that of Ozanam, who said that Gregory’s “Pastoral Care” determined the character of the Christian hierarchy, and formed the bishops who formed the nations.
Gregory’s “Dialogues,” on the contrary, were translated, not by the king, but by Werferth, bishop of Worcester, as we are informed by Asser.111 This translation is extant in manuscripts, but it has not yet been edited. It is, perhaps, the most considerable piece of Anglo-Saxon literature that yet remains to be made public. And it is striking, though not unaccountable, that a book which was one of the most popular ever written,112 which retained its popularity for centuries, and which has left behind it in literature and in popular Christian ethics bold traces of its influence, should, in the modern revival of Anglo-Saxon, have been so long neglected. As this book is practically inaccessible, and as it was moreover a book peculiarly germane and congenial to the average intelligence of these times, it seems to claim a somewhat fuller notice.
Here, as in other translations, the king wrote a few words of preface.
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Ic Ælfred gyfendum Criste mid cynehades mærnesse geweorthad hæbbe cuthlice ongiten, and thurh haligra boca rædunge oft gehyred . thæt us tham God swa micele healicnysse woruld gethingtha forgifen hæfth . is seo mæste thearf thæt we hwilon ure mod gelithian and gebigian to tham godcundum and gastlicum rihte . betweoh thas eorthlican carfulnysse . and ic fortham sohte and wilnode to minum getrywum freondum thæt hy me of Godes bocum be haligra manna theawum and wundrum awriton thas æfterfyligendan lare . thæt ic thurh tha mynegunge and lufe getrymmed on minum mode hwilum gehicge tha heofenlican thing betweoh thas eorthlican gedrefednyssa . Cuthlice we magan nu æt ærestan gehyran hu se eadiga and se apostolica wer Scs Gregorius spræc to his diacone tham wæs nama Petrus . be haligra manna thæawum and life, to lare and to bysne eallum tham the Godes willan wyrceath . and he be him silfum thisum wordum and thus cwæth:— |
I, Alfred, by the grace of Christ, dignified with the honour of royalty, have distinctly understood, and through the reading of holy books have often heard, that of us to whom God hath given so much eminence of worldly distinction, it is specially required that we from time to time should subdue and bend our minds to the divine and spiritual law, in the midst of this earthly anxiety; and I accordingly sought and requested of my trusty friends that they for me out of pious books about the conversation and miracles of holy men would transcribe the instruction that hereinafter followeth; that I, through the admonition and love being strengthened in my mind, may now and then contemplate the heavenly things in the midst of these earthly troubles. Plainly we can now at first hear how the blessed and apostolic man St. Gregory spake to his deacon whose name was Peter, about the manners and life of holy men for instruction and for example to all those who are working the will of God; and he spake about himself with these words and in this manner:— |
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Sumon113 dæge hit gelamp thæt ic wæs swythe geswenced mid tham geruxlum and uneathnessum sumra woruldlicra ymbhegena . for tham underfenge thyses bisceoplican folgothes . On tham woruld scirum we beoth full oft geneadode thæt we doth tha thing the us is genoh cuth thæt we na ne sceoldon . Tha gelyste me thære diglan stowe the ic ær on wæs on mynstre . seo is thære gnornunge freond . fortham man simle mæg his sares and his unrihtes mæst gethencean gif he ana bith on digolnysse . Thær me openlice æt ywde hit sylf eall swa hwæt swa me mislicode be minre agenre wisan . and thær beforan minre heortan eagan swutollice comon ealle tha gedonan unriht the gewunedon thæt hi me sar and sorge ongebrohton. Witodlice tha tha ic thær sæt swithe geswenced and lange sorgende . tha com me to min se leofesta sunu Petrus diacon se fram frymthe his iugothhades mid freondlicre lufe wæs hiwcuthlice to me getheoded and getogen . and he simle wæs min gefera to smeaunge haligre lare . and he tha lociende on me geseah thæt ic wæs geswenced mid hefigum sare minre heortan . and he thus cwæth to me, “La leof gelamp the ænig thing niwes . for hwan hafast thu maran gnornunge thonne hit ær gewunelic wære?” Tha cwæth ic to him, “Eala Petrus seo gnornung the ic dæghwamlice tholie symle heo is me eald for gewunan . and simle heo is me niwe thurh eacan.” |
On a certain day it happened that I was very much harassed with the contentions and worries of certain secular cares, in the discharge of this episcopal function. In secular offices we are very often compelled to do the things that we well enough know we ought not to do. Then my desire turned towards that retired place where I formerly was in the monastery. That is the friend of sorrow, because a man can always best think over his grief and his wrong, if he is alone in retirement. There everything plainly showed itself to me, whatever disquieted me about my own occupation; and there, before the eyes of my heart distinctly came all the practical wrongs which were wont to bring upon me grief and sorrow. Accordingly, while I was there sitting in great oppression and long silence, there came to me my beloved son Peter the deacon, who, from his early youth, with friendly love was intimately attached and bound to me; and he was ever my companion in the study of sacred lore. And he then looking on me saw that I was oppressed with the heavy grief of my heart, and he thus said to me, “Ah, sire, hath anything new happened to thee, by reason of which thou hast more grief than was formerly thy wont?” Then said I to him, “Alas, Peter, the grief which I daily endure it is to me always old for use and wont; and it is to me always new through the increase of it.” |
The edifying stories are sometimes as grotesque as the strangest carvings about a mediæval edifice:—
A nun,114 walking in the convent garden, took a fancy to eat a leaf of lettuce, and she ate, without first making the sign of the cross over it. Presently she was found to be possessed. At the approach of the abbot, the fiend protested it was not his fault; that he had been innocently sitting on a lettuce, and she ate him.115
In the Dialogues we recognise that peculiar ideal of sanctity which we identify not so much with Christianity as with mediæval Christianity. The bright samples of Christian virtues are too like those types which have afforded material to caricature. For example, Æquitius, the good abbot, whose virtues adorn a series of narratives, practises in the following manner the virtue of humility:—
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Sothlice he wæs swithe waclic on his gewædum and swa forsewenlic thæt, theah hwilc man him ongean come the hine ne cuthon, and he thone mid wordum gegrette, he wæs forsewen thæt he næs ongean gegreted; and swa oft swa he to othrum stowum faran wolde, thonne wæs his theaw thæt he wolde sittan on tham horse the he on tham mynstre forcuthost findan mihte, on tham eac he breac hælftre for bridele, and wethera fella for sadele. |
Moreover, he was very mean in his clothing, and so abject, that though any one met him (of those who knew him not), and he greeted him with words, he was so despised that he was not greeted in return; and as often as he would travel to other places, then was it his custom to sit on the horse that he could find the most despicable in the abbey, on which, moreover, he used a halter for a bridle, and sheepskins for saddle. |
Constantius was the name of a sacristan who completely despised all worldly goods, and his fame was spread abroad. On one occasion, when there was no oil for the lamps, he filled them with water, and they gave light just as if it had been oil. Visitors were attracted by the report of his sanctity. Once a countryman came from a distance (com feorran sum ceorl) to see a man of whom so much was said. When he came into the church, Constantius was on a ladder trimming the lamps. He was an under-grown, slight-built, shabby figure. The countryman inquired which was Constantius; and, being told, was so shocked and disappointed, that he spoke sneeringly, “I expected to see a fine man, and this is not a man at all!”
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Mid tham the se Godes wer Constantius tha this gehyrde, he sona swithe blithe forlet tha leoht fatu the he behwearf, and hrædlice nyther astah and thone ceorl beclypte and mid swithlicre lufe ongann mid his earmum hinc clyppan and cyssan and him swithe thancian, thæt he swa be him gedemde, and thus cwæth: “Thu ana hæfdest ontynde eagan on me and me mid rihte oncneowe.” |
When Constantius the man of God heard this, he forthwith in great joy left the lamps he was attending to, and nimbly descended and embraced the countryman, and with exceeding love began to hold him in his arms, and kiss him, and heartily thank him, that he had so judged of him; and thus he quoth:—“Thou alone hadst opened eyes upon me, and thou didst rightly know me.” |
Our next and last example is a story of a well-known type, and perhaps the oldest extant instance of it:—
In the translation of the “Comfort of Philosophy,” the translator makes his greatest effort and exerts the utmost capabilities of his language. He is not bound by any verbal fidelity to his author; he rather adapts the book to his own use and mental exercitation. In the original the author is visited in affliction by Philosophy, and with this heavenly visitant a dialogue ensues, interspersed with choral odes. Alfred sinks the First Person of the author, and makes the dialogue run between Heavenly Wisdom and the Mind (thæt Môd).
The choral odes (generally called the Metres of Boethius) must have been very hard for Alfred to translate, and they are done somewhat vaguely. We have them in two translations, one in prose and the other in verse. There is no doubt that the poetical version was made from the prose version, without any fresh reference to the Latin. The two are often verbally identical, with a little change in the order of words, and some necessary additions to satisfy the alliteration, or fill out the poetic rhythm. It was long ago observed by Hickes that the style of these poems differed little from prose; but it was Mr. Thomas Wright who first noticed that they were, in fact, merely a versified arrangement of the prose translation.
The same critic gave reasons for thinking that the versified metres were by some later hand, and not by King Alfred. This has been recently the subject of a very interesting discussion in the German periodical “Anglia,” it being maintained by Dr. M. Hartmann that they are by Alfred, and the opposite view (that of Mr. T. Wright) being advocated by Dr. A. Leicht.
When the Boethian metres make their appearance in Anglo-Saxon poetic dress, they are considerably expanded. The original prose translation is itself expansive, because the poetry of Boethius is exceedingly terse, and cannot be rendered into readable prose without enlargement. The work of the Saxon versifier is attended with further expansion, because of the mechanical exigencies of the poetic form.
The twentieth metre (iii. 9) offers an extreme case of this kind. Here the original consists of twenty-six hexameters, and the Anglo-Saxon poem has 281 long lines. In this case, however, the poetic expansion is not wholly mechanical; the poet has made some real additions to the thought. The chief of these is a new simile, in which the poising of the Earth in space is illustrated by the yolk of an egg. The prose translation runs thus:—
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Thu gestatholadest eorthan swithe wundorlice and fæstlice thæt he ne helt on nane healfe . ne on nanum eorthlic thinge ne stent ne nanwuht eorthlices hi ne healt . thæt hio ne sige . and nis hire thonne ethre to feallanne of dune thonne up. |
Thou hast established the earth very wondrously and firmly that it does not heel116 over on any side: and yet it stands not on any earthly thing, nor does anything earthly hold it up that it sink not; and yet it is no easier for it to fall down than up. |
The poetic version enlarges as follows:—
The translation of Orosius embodies a considerable piece of original matter. Orosius had given, in the opening of his work, a geographical sketch of Europe and Asia. In the translation a large addition is made to the geography of Europe, and it was an addition not merely to this book, but (so far as appears) to the stock of existing geographical knowledge. This insertion consists of three parts, 1. A map-like description of Central Europe; 2. Narrative of Ohthere, who had voyaged round the North Cape; 3. Voyage of Wulfstan from Denmark along the southern and eastern coasts of the Baltic. Ohthere’s Narrative is connected with King Alfred by name:—“Ohthere sæde his hlaforde Ælfrede kynincge thæt he ealra Northmanna northmest bude,” i.e., Ohthere said to his lord, King Alfred, that he of all Northmen had the most northerly home.
The translation of Beda skips lightly over much of the twenty-two preliminary chapters, giving good measure, however, to the description of Britain and to the martyrdom of St. Alban. All about Gregory and Augustine is full. So also about Eadwine, Oswald, Aidan, Oswy, and St. Chad. (But all that famous section (iii. 25, 26) which describes the crisis between the churches, the synod of Whitby, and the Scotian departure, is omitted altogether). Full measure is given to Theodore, the synod of Hertford, Wilfrid, Queen Ætheldrith, Hilda, and Cædmon. So also Cuthbert and John of Hexham. Fully rendered are the failure of the Irish and the success of the Anglian missions to Germany; also the visions which we may call Dantesque. (The whole section about Adamnan’s influence and writings (v. 15, 16, 17) is omitted.) But about Aldhelm and his writings; also Daniel, bishop of Winchester; the end of Wilfrid; and about Albinus, the successor of Adrian, is fully rendered.
The Anglo-Saxon Gospels must be mentioned here. This is a book about which we have no external information, and the manuscripts are comparatively late. But the diction leads us to place it in or about the times of Alfred.
It is probable that the “Beowulf” is the product of the same reign; while the volume of sacred poetry that is designated by the name of “Cædmon” appears (at least the first part of it) to be either of this time or possibly older.
If with the above we embrace in our view the Laws of this reign and the evidence of contemporary work in the Chronicles, we must be struck with the extent of this great muster of native literature. But we shall hardly do it justice unless we remember that this is the first national display of the kind in the progress of modern Europe. Native poetry had been cultivated in the Anglian period, and there had been a vernacular apparatus to assist the study of Latin, but of a varied and comprehensive literature in English or any other European vernacular, we find no trace until now. We must not look upon Alfred’s translations as mere helps to the Latin. What with the freedom and independence of treatment, and what with the original additions, they have a large claim to the character of domestic products. The very scheme itself, that of using translation as a medium of culture, which is now so familiar to us, was then quite a novel idea. In his preface to the “Pastoral,” the king casts about for precedents, and he finds none but the translations of Scripture into Greek and into Latin, and these do not, in fact, make a true parallel. But he could hardly have used this argument without a conscious pride that he had in his mother tongue an instrument not unpractised, and not altogether unworthy to be the first of barbarian languages to tread in the footsteps of the Greek and Latin.
This, then (I comprise the matter of three previous chapters and of three that are to follow) is the “Anglo-Saxon”117 literature, properly so called; for that expression, if used with technical exactness, affords a term of distinction for the later literature of the south as against the earlier literature of the north, which has been called the Anglian period.