Although we are always told that our present English language is directly derived from that of our Saxon forefathers, this information gives us very little, if any, help towards deciphering the old Anglo-Saxon documents. The Saxons, we are told, were not one nation, but rather composed of an aggregate of tribes of Germanic and Scandinavian origin, whose piratical instincts led them to seek adventure by sea and land and form new colonies, just as at the present day Englishmen go forth in search of fame and fortune in the uttermost parts of the earth.
EXTRACT FROM DOMESDAY.[1]
Thus the Saxon language, although derived from one identical base, was a collection of dialects banded together, which, in its educated and scholastic form, greatly resembled German in its construction.
The language of the Anglo-Saxon (so far as Great Britain is concerned) has been classified under three distinct headings, the first being pure Anglo-Saxon, i.e., the language as spoken by the first settlers, with an admixture of Celtic or British; secondly, this same combination with the addition of Danish; and thirdly, the three above-named languages combined, with the further addition of Norman-French, having in all a Saxon dialect for the basis, to which were afterwards added new words brought into it by foreign invaders or emigrants from over the seas. Since the invention of printing great changes have taken place in our language, and to go back prior to that epoch reveals greater changes still.
The writings of early chroniclers and poets are so full of words and phrases now obsolete that many books and dictionaries have been compiled to explain their meanings.
The Lord’s Prayer, as given in the Durham Book. This is a copy of the Gospels of the Anglo-Saxon period. It was formerly in the Cottonian Library, now in the Manuscript Department of the British Museum. It is known as ‘Nero D. iv.’ Old Sir Robert Cotton had busts of the Roman Emperors over his book-shelves, and the names survive), looks to us hopelessly foreign—only a few words are familiar. The personal pronouns ‘us,’ ‘we,’ ‘he,’ ‘him,’ and the preposition ‘to,’ as well as the conjunction ‘and,’ are unchanged, but the verbs are conjugated quite differently to the correct English of to-day; still, if we would seek for a living example resembling old Saxon dialect, it can easily be found in several parts of England, such as Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and other counties, the country-folk still speaking almost pure Anglo-Saxon, though this is fast dying out before the advance of education and Board-school science. The Anglo-Saxon alphabetical characters differ only from the Roman in the letter ‘w,’ written ƿ. In their alphabet there are also two additional double letters—‘th,’ represented by the following letter þ, and ‘dh,’ ð, these last being frequently used in the construction of words.
The early Saxon handwriting was bold and clear. Most of it now existing consists of monastic copies of books or charters. The Saxons were a clever and industrious people, plodding and practical. Their abbeys were more of the nature of large seminaries or colleges, where learning was carried on; and in this respect the northern parts of England were better supplied than the south, a result caused probably by each fresh influx of tribes landing on the northern and eastern coasts of the country, and spreading inland from thence. There seems to be no doubt that the reign of King Alfred did much to promote study and an increased attention to literature, previously neglected except among a few professed scholars.
A learned King would naturally set the fashion to his subjects, and Alfred must have possessed immense energy. It was an extraordinary thing for a middle-aged man to be able to educate himself sufficiently to master the difficulties of a foreign language so opposed in construction to his own native tongue as Latin, which in nowise resembles Saxon. He must have toiled hard to have completed the many translations from Latin into Saxon which are accredited to him.
Alfred was a popular hero, and, like all heroes, was invested by tradition with the credit of every improvement in literature or art which took place within his era. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that he did stimulate his fellow-countrymen to make efforts towards self-improvement, by setting them a practical example in himself. Such examples are unfortunately rare; they must always be productive of good results—an ‘ounce of practice is worth a pound of precept.’
From the time of King Alfred’s re-introduction of Latin into this country it gradually gained ground as the language of scholars. Learned ecclesiastics coming to England found it convenient as the medium for exchange of thoughts and ideas. It was for many centuries the accepted ‘Volapuk,’ understood by all who professed any learning.
Rome was the light of the Western world, the centre from whence religion and learning was disseminated to the less enlightened parts of Europe. Careful study of the old authors necessitated an acquaintance with both Greek and Latin. The emissaries of the Pope, either as legates or missionaries, spread all over civilized Europe, and carried with them the learning of their age.
Intercourse between England and France was somewhat checked by dissensions and wars both at home and abroad, but with the Conquest came a large body of monks. The chief wealth of Normandy was invested in its rich abbeys, from whence Duke William had borrowed large sums of money to fit out his expedition upon the security of his future possession of England. These loans he honestly and amply repaid by large grants of land out of his new kingdom; hence new abbeys sprang up in England, filled with foreign monks, who brought over their language, arts and sciences, to teach in the new country they had adopted as their own. The language of the court was of necessity Norman-French, which differs as much from the French of to-day as ancient from modern English. But a knowledge of French makes these early deeds easy to understand.
NORMAN-FRENCH DEED.
The lower orders of the people clung persistently to their own old Saxon tongue, a fact clearly demonstrated by the way the old Saxon field-names are to the present day retained, and flowers, animals, and matters of everyday country-life bear names of evident Saxon origin. The Saxons were a conquered race, and as such became the servants of their conquerors. The animals which in life they tended were eaten by the Norman nobles, who called them, when used as food, by names of French derivation. Thus the Saxon ‘sheep’ when dead became ‘mutton’; ‘pig’ turned into ‘pork’; ‘calf’ into ‘veal,’ etc.
With the names of many wildflowers French origin is traceable, especially with cultivated sorts. We know the monks of the Middle Ages were clever gardeners, and probably by them the wildflowers were named. In Berkshire the village children call field-daisies ‘margs,’ abbreviated, without doubt, from the French marguerite. Among garden flowers there are pansies, French pensé; gillyflower, giroflél, and many others; but as a whole there are few words of distinctly Latin origin to be found in the English dialects relating to everyday affairs. Norman-French did not come into immediate use in legal documents after the Conquest. The earliest deeds of the Norman kings were written in Latin, but after a while French, the everyday language of the upper classes, superseded it for law work—possibly there were duplicate copies of the deeds in both languages—but only for a comparatively short period, a statute being passed in the thirty-sixth year of King Edward III. deciding upon Latin as the law language of the realm, and from this date the use of Norman-French died out, and the English language may be said to have commenced.
The growing dislike of the English to foreign prelates led to a steady resistance of their claims, culminating in the Statutes of Mortmain, Provisors and Præmunire, and finally in the suppression of all alien priories and foreign cells. This stopped the influx of French and Italian monks to our shores; so it was that, after nearly four centuries, the Norman-French language died out and was forgotten. During the Middle Ages, and until the time of the Reformation, the monasteries still continued to be the principal seats of learning throughout the country, and Latin held its ground among scholars and lawyers.
The introduction of printing, and, finally, the changes wrought by the Reformation, disturbed the pre-existing course of things. The English language was gradually settling down into its present form, and about the end of the fifteenth century it began more and more to be used for law business transactions.
The law-Latin, as used in England, degenerated greatly; it became interspersed with words of native origin, Latinized by the lawyer. Old court-rolls especially are full of obsolete words; so, too, are the public rolls, but there are now many dictionaries explaining their meanings. Although of course, here and there an unknown word may occur, yet the context will usually explain or help towards its significance.
The legal Latin became, finally, merely a series of mechanical forms; these at last were translated into English. For this reason a careful study of the wording of a deed of the eighteenth century in English will show that it is the counterpart of the same class of document in its older Latin form.
Latin, like Norman-French, had had its day and was dying out. Finally, by George III.’s Act of Parliament the native language was ordered to be used for law work, and now Latin has become obsolete, so far as practical work is concerned. Understanding old legal Latin—once a necessity for a lawyer—has now become an antiquarian profession. One relic of Anglo-Saxon remained on in our language for many centuries. The double letter þ, ‘th,’ will be found in the written copies of monkish chartularies for place-names beginning with ‘th.’ Even so late as the fifteenth century we find it freely employed in English documents. I possess a copy of the criminal charges made against De la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, for high treason, 1450. Throughout the manuscript the Saxon þ appears in such words as ‘other,’ ‘that,’ ‘the,’ etc., which look curious written ‘oþer,’ ‘þt,’ ‘þe.’
The þ in some words was printed ‘y,’ which continued in use until the last century. I am not aware of any place-names having been altered by this change of lettering, but it is quite possible that some changes may have occurred through it. It would be easy for a person unaccustomed to the Saxon þ to mistake it for other letters, as ‘th,’ ‘p,’ or ‘y’ must be followed either by a vowel or the consonant ‘r,’ ‘ph’ in old documents being usually replaced by an ‘f.’
Of late years many absurd mistakes have been made by the Ordnance Surveyors in their maps, who, mistaking the local dialect, or from preconceived ideas as to what the names ought to be, have set down many incorrectly. On this subject I wrote formerly in a paper in the Berkshire Archæological Magazine. A man from the South of England fails to comprehend the Northern or Western dialects. Country-folk from the North cannot understand a word spoken by Southerners; this also would account for errors. Spelling, of course, has so much altered that it is no safe guide towards derivation; phonetic pronunciation of a word is more likely to give a clue to the origin. Field-names have been handed down orally from generation to generation; and it is very curious to observe how faithfully the phonetic sounds have been preserved among an illiterate people, long after the meanings of the words have disappeared.
The Saxons named their fields from ordinary things, or surroundings, or the animals who fed in the meadows. The following Saxon words may be found occurring constantly as field-names:
Æcne, fruitful; Æcer, field; Æbesn or Æfesne, pasture; Ata, Atih, tares, or oats—the latter were common.
Birce, birch-tree.
Cyrc, Cyrce, Cyrice, Circ, Circe, church—the last two most common; Culfre, a dove; Cealc, chalk; Ceorl, churl or husbandman.
Ent, a giant; Eorisc, a bulrush; Errich, stubble; Enid or Ened, a duck; Emn, even.
Fearras, Ferris, oxen; Fearh, a little pig; Fearh-Cwæl, swine-fever.
Getreminc, fortress; Gat or Yat, a Goat.
Halga, a saint; halig, holy; Hyd, hide, a land measure; Ham, home, homestead; Hurst, or Hyrst, a wood; Holt, a grove; Hleotan, to cast lots (meadows were held in lots, or allotments, from a very early period, and so continued up to the time of the Enclosure Acts); Hluton, part allotted; Halm, stubble.
Ith Yrnth, arable; Ilt, a sow.
Ley, Lea, Leaze or Lay, Lye, meadow or grassland.
Neolnes, more properly spelt Neowlnes, an abyss.
On-œl, a burning.
Riip, harvest.
Sul, a plough; Stret, or Stræt, a street or public highway.
Wong, a meadow; Welig, a willow; Wegleast, a going out of the way; Wer, an enclosure.
As a whole the English language has changed more during the past century than at any time of the preceding ages. Railway and telegraph have brought all parts of the kingdom into closer contact, and intercourse with foreign countries accounts for constant alterations in language and customs. New words are introduced and old ones die out; it is the same in every language.