ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 1.91k
strength of a part of the population which was justly considered as
nourishing the most inveterate antipathy to their victor. All the
monarchs of the Norman race had shown the most marked predilection for
their Norman subjects; the laws of the chase, and many others equally
unknown to the milder and more free spirit of the Saxon constitution,
had been fixed upon the necks of the subjugated inhabitants, to add
weight, as it were, to the feudal chains with which they were loaded. At
court, and in the castles of the great nobles, where the pomp and state
of a court was emulated, Norman-French was the only language employed;
in courts of law, the pleadings and judgments were delivered in the same
tongue. In short, French was the language of honour, of chivalry, and
even of justice, while the far more manly and expressive Anglo-Saxon
was abandoned to the use of rustics and hinds, who knew no other. Still,
however, the necessary intercourse between the lords of the soil,
and those oppressed inferior beings by whom that soil was cultivated,
occasioned the gradual formation of a dialect, compounded betwixt
the French and the Anglo-Saxon, in which they could render themselves
mutually intelligible to each other; and from this necessity arose by
degrees the structure of our present English language, in which the
speech of the victors and the vanquished have been so happily blended
together; and which has since been so richly improved by importations
from the classical languages, and from those spoken by the southern
nations of Europe.

This state of things I have thought it necessary to premise for the
information of the general reader, who might be apt to forget, that,
although no great historical events, such as war or insurrection, mark
the existence of the Anglo-Saxons as a separate people subsequent to the
reign of William the Second; yet the great national distinctions betwixt
them and their conquerors, the recollection of what they had formerly
been, and to what they were now reduced, continued down to the reign
of Edward the Third, to keep open the wounds which the Conquest had
inflicted, and to maintain a line of separation betwixt the descendants
of the victor Normans and the vanquished Saxons.

The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades of that forest,
which we have mentioned in the beginning of the chapter. Hundreds of
broad-headed, short-stemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed
perhaps the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their gnarled
arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious green sward; in some
places they were intermingled with beeches, hollies, and copsewood of
various descriptions, so closely as totally to intercept the level beams
of the sinking sun; in others they receded from each other, forming
those long sweeping vistas, in the intricacy of which the eye delights
to lose itself, while imagination considers them as the paths to yet
wilder scenes of silvan solitude. Here the red rays of the sun shot a
broken and discoloured light, that partially hung upon the shattered
boughs and mossy trunks of the trees, and there they illuminated in
brilliant patches the portions of turf to which they made their way. A
considerable open space, in the midst of this glade, seemed formerly to
have been dedicated to the rites of Druidical superstition; for, on
the summit of a hillock, so regular as to seem artificial, there still
remained part of a circle of rough unhewn stones, of large dimensions.
Seven stood upright; the rest had been dislodged from their places,
probably by the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some
prostrate near their former site, and others on the side of the hill.
One large stone only had found its way to the bottom, and in stopping
the course of a small brook, which glided smoothly round the foot of
the eminence, gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice of murmur to the
placid and elsewhere silent streamlet.

The human figures which completed this landscape, were in number two,
partaking, in their dress and appearance, of that wild and rustic
character, which belonged to the woodlands of the West-Riding of
Yorkshire at that early period. The eldest of these men had a
stern, savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of the simplest form
imaginable, being a close jacket with sleeves, composed of the tanned
skin of some animal, on which the hair had been originally left, but
which had been worn off in so many places, that it would have been
difficult to distinguish from the patches that remained, to what
creature the fur had belonged. This primeval vestment reached from
the throat to the knees, and served at once all the usual purposes
of body-clothing; there was no wider opening at the collar, than
was necessary to admit the passage of the head, from which it may be
inferred, that it was put on by slipping it over the head and shoulders,
in the manner of a modern shirt, or ancient hauberk. Sandals, bound
with thongs made of boars' hide, protected the feet, and a roll of thin
leather was twined artificially round the legs, and, ascending above the
calf, left the knees bare, like those of a Scottish Highlander. To make
the jacket sit yet more close to the body, it was gathered at the middle
by a broad leathern belt, secured by a brass buckle; to one side of
which was attached a sort of scrip, and to the other a ram's horn,
accoutred with a mouthpiece, for the purpose of blowing. In the same
belt was stuck one of those long, broad, sharp-pointed, and two-edged
knives, with a buck's-horn handle, which were fabricated in the
neighbourhood, and bore even at this early period the name of a
Sheffield whittle. The man had no covering upon his head, which was
only defended by his own thick hair, matted and twisted together, and
scorched by the influence of the sun into a rusty dark-red colour,
forming a contrast with the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was
rather of a yellow or amber hue. One part of his dress only remains, but
it is too remarkable to be suppressed; it was a brass ring, resembling a
dog's collar, but without any opening, and soldered fast round his neck,
so loose as to form no impediment to his breathing, yet so tight as to
be incapable of being removed, excepting by the use of the file. On this
singular gorget was engraved, in Saxon characters, an inscription of the
following purport:--"Gurth, the son of Beowulph, is the born thrall of
Cedric of Rotherwood."

Beside the swine-herd, for such was Gurth's occupation, was seated, upon

strength of a part of the population which was justly considered as

nourishing the most inveterate antipathy to their victor. All the

monarchs of the Norman race had shown the most marked predilection for

their Norman subjects; the laws of the chase, and many others equally

unknown to the milder and more free spirit of the Saxon constitution,

had been fixed upon the necks of the subjugated inhabitants, to add

weight, as it were, to the feudal chains with which they were loaded. At

court, and in the castles of the great nobles, where the pomp and state

of a court was emulated, Norman-French was the only language employed;

in courts of law, the pleadings and judgments were delivered in the same

tongue. In short, French was the language of honour, of chivalry, and

even of justice, while the far more manly and expressive Anglo-Saxon

was abandoned to the use of rustics and hinds, who knew no other. Still,

however, the necessary intercourse between the lords of the soil,

and those oppressed inferior beings by whom that soil was cultivated,

occasioned the gradual formation of a dialect, compounded betwixt

the French and the Anglo-Saxon, in which they could render themselves

mutually intelligible to each other; and from this necessity arose by

degrees the structure of our present English language, in which the

speech of the victors and the vanquished have been so happily blended

together; and which has since been so richly improved by importations

from the classical languages, and from those spoken by the southern

nations of Europe.

This state of things I have thought it necessary to premise for the

information of the general reader, who might be apt to forget, that,

although no great historical events, such as war or insurrection, mark

the existence of the Anglo-Saxons as a separate people subsequent to the

reign of William the Second; yet the great national distinctions betwixt

them and their conquerors, the recollection of what they had formerly

been, and to what they were now reduced, continued down to the reign

of Edward the Third, to keep open the wounds which the Conquest had

inflicted, and to maintain a line of separation betwixt the descendants

of the victor Normans and the vanquished Saxons.

The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades of that forest,

which we have mentioned in the beginning of the chapter. Hundreds of

broad-headed, short-stemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed

perhaps the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their gnarled

arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious green sward; in some

places they were intermingled with beeches, hollies, and copsewood of

various descriptions, so closely as totally to intercept the level beams

of the sinking sun; in others they receded from each other, forming

those long sweeping vistas, in the intricacy of which the eye delights

to lose itself, while imagination considers them as the paths to yet

wilder scenes of silvan solitude. Here the red rays of the sun shot a

broken and discoloured light, that partially hung upon the shattered

boughs and mossy trunks of the trees, and there they illuminated in

brilliant patches the portions of turf to which they made their way. A

considerable open space, in the midst of this glade, seemed formerly to

have been dedicated to the rites of Druidical superstition; for, on

the summit of a hillock, so regular as to seem artificial, there still

remained part of a circle of rough unhewn stones, of large dimensions.

Seven stood upright; the rest had been dislodged from their places,

probably by the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some

prostrate near their former site, and others on the side of the hill.

One large stone only had found its way to the bottom, and in stopping

the course of a small brook, which glided smoothly round the foot of

the eminence, gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice of murmur to the

placid and elsewhere silent streamlet.

The human figures which completed this landscape, were in number two,

partaking, in their dress and appearance, of that wild and rustic

character, which belonged to the woodlands of the West-Riding of

Yorkshire at that early period. The eldest of these men had a

stern, savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of the simplest form

imaginable, being a close jacket with sleeves, composed of the tanned

skin of some animal, on which the hair had been originally left, but

which had been worn off in so many places, that it would have been

difficult to distinguish from the patches that remained, to what

creature the fur had belonged. This primeval vestment reached from

the throat to the knees, and served at once all the usual purposes

of body-clothing; there was no wider opening at the collar, than

was necessary to admit the passage of the head, from which it may be

inferred, that it was put on by slipping it over the head and shoulders,

in the manner of a modern shirt, or ancient hauberk. Sandals, bound

with thongs made of boars' hide, protected the feet, and a roll of thin

leather was twined artificially round the legs, and, ascending above the

calf, left the knees bare, like those of a Scottish Highlander. To make

the jacket sit yet more close to the body, it was gathered at the middle

by a broad leathern belt, secured by a brass buckle; to one side of

which was attached a sort of scrip, and to the other a ram's horn,

accoutred with a mouthpiece, for the purpose of blowing. In the same

belt was stuck one of those long, broad, sharp-pointed, and two-edged

knives, with a buck's-horn handle, which were fabricated in the

neighbourhood, and bore even at this early period the name of a

Sheffield whittle. The man had no covering upon his head, which was

only defended by his own thick hair, matted and twisted together, and

scorched by the influence of the sun into a rusty dark-red colour,

forming a contrast with the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was

rather of a yellow or amber hue. One part of his dress only remains, but

it is too remarkable to be suppressed; it was a brass ring, resembling a

dog's collar, but without any opening, and soldered fast round his neck,

so loose as to form no impediment to his breathing, yet so tight as to

be incapable of being removed, excepting by the use of the file. On this

singular gorget was engraved, in Saxon characters, an inscription of the

following purport:--"Gurth, the son of Beowulph, is the born thrall of

Cedric of Rotherwood."

Beside the swine-herd, for such was Gurth's occupation, was seated, upon