No More Learning

Yet at
evening I read a Wonder Story for the little friends. Then the
deputation came from the town corporations, with torches and
waving banners through the street, to the guild-hall.
And now
the prophecy was to be fulfilled that the old woman gave when


## p. 537 (#575) ############################################

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
537
I left home as a boy. Odense was to be illuminated for me.
I stepped to the open window. All was aglow with torchlight,
the square was filled with people. Songs swelled up to me.
I was overcome, emotionally. Physically racked with pain, I could
not enjoy this crowning fruit of my life, the toothache was so
intolerable. The ice-cold air that blew against me fanned the
pain to an awful intensity, and, instead of enjoying the bliss
of these never-to-be-repeated moments, I looked at the printed
song to see how many verses had to be sung before I could step
away from the torture which the cold air sent through my teeth.
It was the acme of suffering. As the glow of the piled-up
torches subsided, my pain subsided too. How thankful I
was,
though! Gentle eyes were fastened upon me all around. All
wanted to speak with me, to press my hand. Tired out, I
reached the bishop's house and sought rest. But I got no sleep
till toward morning, so filled and overflowing was I.
(MISERERE) IN THE SIXTINE CHAPEL
From «The Improvisatore): Translation by Mary Howitt
ON
N WEDNESDAY afternoon began the Miserere in the Sixtine
Chapel. My soul longed for music; in the world of mel-
ody I could find sympathy and consolation. The throng
was great, even within the chapel — the foremost division was
already filled with ladies. Magnificent boxes, hung with velvet
and golden draperies for royal personages and foreigners from
various courts, were here erected so high that they looked out
beyond the richly carved railing which separated the ladies from
the interior of the chapel. The papal Swiss Guards stood in
their bright festal array. The officers wore light armor, and in
their helmets a waving plume.
The old cardinals entered
in their magnificent scarlet velvet cloaks, with their white ermine
capes, and seated themselves side by side in a great half-circle
within the barrier, while the priests who had carried their trains
seated themselves at their feet. By the little side door of the
altar the holy father now entered, in his scarlet mantle and silver
tiara. He ascended his throne. Bishops swung the vessels of
incense around him, while young priests, in scarlet vestments,
knelt, with lighted torches in their hands, before him and the
high altar.


## p. 538 (#576) ############################################

538
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
The reading of the lessons began. But it was impossible to
keep the eyes fixed on the lifeless letters of the Missal — they
raised themselves, with the thoughts, to the vast universe which
Michael Angelo has breathed forth in colors upon the ceiling and
the walls. I contemplated his mighty sibyls and wondrously
glorious prophets, - every one of them a subject for a painting.
My eyes drank in the magnificent processions, the beautiful
groups of angels; they were not, to me, painted pictures;— all
stood living before me. The rich tree of knowledge, from which
Eve gave the fruit to Adam; the Almighty God, who floated
over the waters ,- not borne up by angels, as the older masters
had represented him -- no, the company of angels rested upon
him and his fluttering garments. It is true, I had seen these
pictures before, but never as now had they seized upon me. My
excited state of mind, the crowd of people, perhaps even the
lyric of my thoughts, made me wonderfully alive to poetical
impressions; and many a poet's heart has felt as mine did!
The bold foreshortenings, the determinate force with which
every figure steps forward, is amazing, and carries one quite
away! It is a spiritual Sermon on the Mount, in color and form.
Like Raphael, we stand in astonishment before the power of
Michael Angelo. Every prophet is a Moses, like that which he
formed in marble. What giant forms are those which seize upon
our eye and our thoughts as we enter! But when intoxicated
with this view, let us turn our eyes to the background of the
chapel, whose whole wall is a high altar of art and thought.
The great chaotic picture, from the floor to the roof, shows itself
there like a jewel, of which all the rest is only the setting. We
see there the Last Judgment.
Christ stands in judgment upon the clouds, and his Mother
and the Apostles stretch forth their hands beseechingly for the
poor human race. The dead raise the gravestones under which
they have lain; blessed spirits adoring, float upward to God,
while the abyss seizes its victims. Here one of the ascending
spirits seeks to save his condemned brother, whom the abyss
already embraces in its snaky folds. The children of despair
strike their clenched fists upon their brows, and sink into the
depths! In bold foreshortenings, float and tumble whole legions
between heaven and earth. The sympathy of the angels, the
expression of lovers who meet, the child that at the sound of the
trumpet clings to the mother's breast, are so natural and beautiful


## p. 539 (#577) ############################################

ANEURIN
539
that one believes one's self to be among those who are waiting
for judgment. Michael Angelo has expressed in colors what
Dante saw and has sung to the generations of the earth.
The descending sun at that moment threw his last beams in
through the uppermost window. Christ, and the blessed around
him, were strongly lighted up; while the lower part, where the
dead arose, and the demons thrust their boat laden with the
damned from the shore, were almost in darkness.
Just as the sun went down the last lesson was ended, the
last light which now remained was extinguished, and the whole
picture world vanished in the gloom from before me; but in that
same moment burst forth music and singing. That which color
had bodily revealed arose now in sound; the day of judgment,
with its despair and its exultation, resounded above us.
The father of the church, stripped of his papal pomp, stood
before the altar, and prayed to the holy cross; and upon the
wings of the trumpet resounded the trembling choir, "Populus
meus quid feci tibi ? ) Soft angel-tones rose above the deep
song, tones which ascended not from a human breast: it was not
a man's nor a woman's; it belonged to the world of spirits; it
was like the weeping of angels dissolved in melody.
ANEURIN
(Sixth Century A. D. )
MONG the triad of singers - Llywarch, prince and bard, Aneu-
rin, warrior and bard, and Taliessin, bard only — who were
among the followers of the heroic British chief Urien, when
he bravely but unsuccessfully resisted the invasion of the victorious
Angles and Saxons, Aneurin was famous both as poet and warrior.
He sang of the long struggle that eventually was to turn Briton into
England, and celebrated in his ‘Gododin' ninety of the fallen Cymric
chiefs. The notes of his life are scanty, and are drawn chiefly from
his allusion to himself in his poem. He was the son of Cwm Caw-
lwyd, a chief of the tribe of Gododin. He seems to have been
educated at St. Cadoc's College at Llancarvan, and afterwards entered
the bardic order. As appears from the ‘Gododin,' he was present at
the battle of Cattræth both as bard and as priest. He fled, but was


## p. 540 (#578) ############################################

540
ANEURIN
taken prisoner. In his poem he refers to the hardships he endured in
his captivity. After his release he returned to Llancarvan, Wales,
and in his old age he went north to live with his brother in Gallo-
way. Here he was murdered; his death is referred to as one of the
three accursed hatchet-strokes of the isle of Britain. " His friendship
with Taliessin is commemorated by both bards.
The Gododin' is at once the longest and the most important
composition in early Welsh literature. It has been variously inter-
preted, but is thought to celebrate the battle of Cattræth. This battle
was fought in 570 between the Britons, who had formed a league to
defend their country, and their Teutonic invaders. It “began on a
Tuesday, lasted for a week, and ended with great slaughter of the
Britons, who fought desperately till they perished on the field. ”
Three hundred and sixty chieftains were slain; only three escaped by
flight, among whom was Aneurin, who afterwards commemorated the
slaughter in the "Gododin,' a lament for the dead. Ninety-seven of
the stanzas remain. In various measures of alliterative and assonant
verse they sing the praises of ninety of the fallen chiefs, usually
giving one stanza to each hero. One of these stanzas is known to
readers of Gray, who translated it under the name of “The Death of
Hoel. '
Again the “Gododinis assumed to be, like many early epic
poems whose origin is wrapped in mystery, not the commemoration
of one single, particular event, but a collection of lays composed at
various times, which compresses into one battle the long and disas-
trous period of the Anglo-Saxon invasion, ending in the subjugation
of the Britons.
But whatever its history, the 'Gododin' is one of the finest monu-
ments of Cymric literature. In the brevity of the narrative, the
careless boldness of the actors as they present themselves, the con-
densed energy of the action, and the fierce exultation of the slaughter,
together with the recurring elegiac note, this poem (or poems if it
be the work of two authors) has some of the highest epic qualities.
The ideas and manners are in harmony with the age and the country
to which it is referred. )
Like all early songs, the poem was handed down through cen-
turies by oral tradition. It is now preserved in the Book of An-
eurin,' a small quarto manuscript of nineteen leaves of vellum, of
the end of the thirteenth century.
The (Gododin' has been published with an English translation
and notes by the Rev. J. Williams (1852); and by the Cymmrodorion
Society, with a translation by Thomas Stevens, in 1885. Interesting
information covering it may be found in Skene's Four Ancient Books
of Wales) (1866), and in the article Celtic Literature in this work.


## p. 541 (#579) ############################################

ANEURIN
541
THE SLAYING OF OWAIN
[During the battle a conference was held, at which the British leaders
demanded as a condition of peace that part of the land of Gododin be restored.
In reply, the Saxons killed Owain, one of the greatest of the Cymric bards.
Aneurin thus pictures him:-)
.
A
Man in thought, a boy in form,
He stoutly fought, and sought the storm
Of flashing war that thundered far.
His courser, lank and swift, thick-maned,
Bore on his flank, as on he strained,
The light-brown shield, as on he sped,
With golden spur, in cloak of fur,
His blue sword gleaming. Be there said
No word of mine that does not hold thee dear!
Before thy youth had tasted bridal cheer,
The red death was thy bride! The ravens feed
On thee yet straining to the front, to lead.
Owain, the friend I loved, is dead!
Woe is it that on him the ravens feed!
THE FATE OF HOEL, SON OF THE GREAT CIAN
[From various expressions used by Aneurin in different parts of his great
poem, it is evident that the warriors of whom he sang fortified themselves,
before entering the field of battle, with unstinted libations of that favorite
intoxicant of those days, sweet mead. He mentions the condition of the war-
riors as they started for the fray, and tells of Hoel's fate. This son of Cian
had married the daughter of one of the Bryneish. His marriage caused no
abatement of a feud existing between the tribes to which the husband and
wife respectively belonged. He repudiated her family, disdained to take her
away, and was sought and slain by her insulted father. ]
T"
HE warriors marched to Cattræth, full of mead;
Drunken, but firm of array: great the shame,
But greater the valor no bard can defame.
The war-dogs fought fiercely, red swords seemed to bleed.
Flesh and soul, I had slain thee, myself, had I thought,
Son of Cian, my friend, that thy faith had been bought
By a bribe from the tribe of the Bryneish! But no;
He scorned to take dowry from hands of the foe,
And I, all unhurt, lost a friend in the fight,
Whom the wrath of a father felled down for the slight.


## p. 542 (#580) ############################################

542
ANEURIN
THE GIANT GWRVELING FALLS AT LAST
[The bard tells the story of Gwrveling's revelry, impulsive bravery, and
final slaughter of the foe before yielding to their prowess. ]
L
IGHT of lights - the sun,
Leader of the day,
First to rise and run
His appointed way,
Crowned with many a ray,
Seeks the British sky;
Sees the flight's dismay,
Sees the Britons fly.
The horn in Eiddin's hall
Had sparkled with the wine,
And thither, at a call
To drink and be divine,
He went, to share the feast
Of reapers, wine and mead.
He drank, and so increased
His daring for wild deed.
The reapers sang of war
That lifts its shining wings,
Its shining wings of fire,
Its shields that flutter far.
The bards, too, sang of war,
Of plumed and crested war;
The song rose ever higher.
Not a shield
Escapes the shock,
To the field
They fiercely flock,-
There to fall.
But of all
Who struck on giant Gwrveling,
Whom he would he struck again,
All he struck in grave were lain,
Ere the bearers came to bring
To his grave stout Gwrveling.


## p. 543 (#581) ############################################

543
ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
BY ROBERT SHARP
he earliest recorded utterances of a race, whether in poetry
or in prose, become to the representatives of this race in
later days a treasure beyond price. The value of such
monuments of the remote past is manifold. In them we first begin
to become really acquainted with ancestors of the people of to-day,
even though we may have read in the pages of earlier writers of
alien descent much that is of great concurrent interest. Through the
medium of the native saga, epic, and meagre chronicle, we see for
the first time their real though dim outlines, moving in and out of
the mists that obscure the dawn of history; and these outlines
become more and more distinct as the literary remains of succeed-
ing periods become more abundant and present more varied aspects
of life. We come gradually to know what manner of men and
women were these ancestors, what in peace and in war were their
customs, what their family and social relations, their food and drink,
their dress, their systems of law and government, their religion and
morals, what were their art instincts, what were their ideals.
This is essential material for the construction of history in its
complete sense. And this evidence, when subjected to judicious crit-
icism, is trustworthy: for the ancient story-teller and poet reflects
the customs and ideas and ideals of his own time, even though the
combination of agencies and the preternatural proportions of the
actors and their deeds belong to the imagination. The historian
must know how to supplement and to give life and interest to the
colorless succession of dates, names, and events of the chronicler, by
means of these imaginative yet truth-bearing creations of the poet.
Remnants of ancient poetry and legend have again an immediate
value in proportion as they exhibit a free play of fine imagination;
that is, according as they possess the power of stirring to response
the æsthetic feeling of subsequent ages, - as they possess the true
poetic quality. This gift of imagination varies greatly among races
as among individuals, and the earliest manifestations of it frequently
throw a clear light upon apparently eccentric tendencies developed
in a literature in later times.
For these reasons, added to a natural family pride in them, the
early literary monuments of the Anglo-Saxons should be cherished
by us as among the most valued possessions of the race.


## p. 544 (#582) ############################################

544
ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
The first Teutonic language to be reduced to writing was the
Meso-Gothic. Considerable portions of a translation of the Bible
into that language, made by Bishop Ulfilas in the fourth century,
still remain. But this cannot be called the beginning of a literature;
for there is no trace of original creative impulse. The Gothic move-
ment, too, seems to have ceased immediately after its beginning. It
is elsewhere that we must seek for the rise of a real Teutonic litera-
ture. We shall not find it till after the lapse of several centuries;
and we find it not among the tribes that remained in the fatherland,
nor with those that had broken into and conquered parts of the
Roman empire, only to be absorbed and to blend with other races
into Romanic nations. The proud distinction belongs to the Low
German tribes that had created an England in Britain.
The conquest of Britain by the Anglo-Saxons, begun in 449,
seemed at first to promise only retrogression and the ruin of an
existing civilization. These fierce barbarians found among the Celts
of Britain a Roman culture, and the Christian religion exerting its
influence for order and humanity. Their mission seemed to be to
destroy both. In their original homes in the forests of northern
Germany, they had come little if at all into contact with Roman civ-
ilization. At any rate, we may assume that they had felt no Roman
influence capable of stemming their national and ethnical tendencies.
We cannot yet solve the difficult problem of the extent of their
mingling with the conquered Celts in Britain. In spite of learned
opinions to the contrary, the evidence now available seems to point
to only a small infusion of Celtic blood. The conquerors seem to
have settled down to their new homes with all the heathenism and
most of the barbarism they had brought from their old home, a
Teutonic people still.
In these ruthless, plundering barbarians, whose very breath was
battle, and who seemed for the time the very genius of disorder and
ruin, there existed, nevertheless, potentialities of humanity, order,
and enlightenment far exceeding those of the system they displaced.
In all their barbarism there was a certain nobility; their courage was
unflinching; the fidelity, even unto death, of thane to lord, repaid
the open-handed generosity of lord to thane; they honored truth;
and even after we allow for the exaggerated claims made for a
chivalrous devotion that did not exist, we find that they held their
women in higher respect than was usual even among many more
enlightened peoples.
There are few more remarkable narratives in history than that of
the facility and enthusiasm with which the Anglo-Saxons, a people
conservative then as now to the degree of extreme obstinacy, accepted
Christianity and the new learning which followed in the train of the


## p. 545 (#583) ############################################

ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
545
new religion. After a few lapses into paganism in some localities, we
find these people, who lately had swept Christian Britain with fire and
sword, themselves became most zealous followers of Christ. Under
the influence of the Roman missionaries who, under St. Augustine,
had begun their work in the south in 597 among the Saxons and
Jutes, and under the combined influence of Irish and Roman mission-
aries in the north and east among the Angles, theological and secular
studies were pursued with avidity. By the end of the seventh century
we find Anglo-Saxon missionaries, with St. Boniface at their head,
carrying Christianity and enlightenment to the pagan German tribes
on the Continent.
The torch had been passed to the Anglo-Saxon, and a new centre
of learning, York, - the old Roman capital, now the chief city of the
Northumbrian Angles, - became famous throughout Europe. Indeed,
York seemed for a time the chief hope for preserving and advancing
Christian culture; for the danger of a relapse into dense ignorance
had become imminent in the rest of Europe. Bede, born about 673, a
product of this Northumbrian culture, represented the highest learning
of his day. He wrote a vast number of works in Latin, treating
nearly all the branches of knowledge existing in his day. Alcuin,
another Northumbrian, born about 735, was called by Charlemagne
to be tutor for himself and his children, and to organize the educa-
tional system of his realm. Other great names might be added to
show the extent and brilliancy of the new learning. It was more
remarkable among the Angles; and only at a later day, when the
great schools of the north had gone up in fire and smoke in the piti-
less invasion of the Northmen, did the West Saxons become the
leaders, almost the only representatives, of the literary impulse
among the Anglo-Saxons.
It is significant that the first written English that we know of
contains the first Christian English king's provision for peace and
order in his kingdom. The laws of Athelbert, King of Kent, who
died in 616, were written down early in the seventh century. This
code, as it exists, is the oldest surviving monument of English prose.
The laws of Ine, King of the West Saxons, were put into writing
about 690. These collections can scarcely be said to have a literary
value; but they are of the utmost importance as throwing light upon
the early customs of our race, and the laws of Ine may be consid-
ered as the foundation of modern English law. Many of these laws
were probably much older; but they were now first codified and
systematically enforced. The language employed is direct, almost
crabbed; but occasionally the Anglo-Saxon love of figure shows itself.
To illustrate, I quote, after Brooke, from Earle's Anglo-Saxon Liter-
ature,' page 153:-
II-35


## p. 546 (#584) ############################################

546
ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
« In case any one burn a tree in a wood, and it came to light who did it,
let him pay the full penalty, and give sixty shillings, because fire is a thief.
If one fell in a wood ever so many trees, and it be found out afterwards, let
him pay for three trees, each with thirty shillings. He is not required to pay
for more of them, however many they may be, because the axe is a reporter,
and not a thief. ” [The italicized sentences are evidently current sayings. )
But even these remains, important and interesting as they are,
may not be called the beginning of a vernacular literature. It is
among the Angles of Northumbria that we shall find the earliest
native and truly literary awakening in England. Here we perceive
the endeavor to do something more than merely to aid the memory
of men in preserving necessary laws and records of important events.
The imagination had become active. The impulse was felt to give
expression to deep emotions, to sing the deeds and noble character
of some hero embodying the loftiest ideals of the time and the race,
to utter deep religious feeling. There was an effort to do this in a
form showing harmony in theme and presentation. Here we find
displayed a feeling for art, often crude, but still a true and native
impulse. This activity produced or gave definite form to the earliest
Anglo-Saxon poetry, a poetry often of a very high quality: perhaps
never of the highest, but always of intense interest. We may claim
even a greater distinction for the early fruit of Anglo-Saxon inspira-
tion. Mr. Stopford Brooke says:–«With the exception of perhaps
a few Welsh and Irish poems, it is the only vernacular poetry in
Europe, outside of the classic tongues, which belongs to so early a
time as the seventh and eighth centuries. ”
The oldest of these poems belong in all save their final form to
the ancient days in Northern Germany. They bear evidence of trans-
mission, with varying details, from gleeinan to gleeman, till they were
finally carried over to England and there edited, often with discordant
interpolations and modifications, by Christian scribes. Tacitus tells
us that at his time songs or poems were a marked feature in the life
of the Germans; but we cannot trace the clue further. To these
more ancient poems many others were added by Christian Northum-
brian poets, and we find that a large body of poetry had grown up
in the North before the movement was entirely arrested by the de-
stroying Northmen. Not one of these poems, unless we except a few
fragmentary verses, has come down to us in the Northumbrian dialect.
Fortunately they had been transcribed by the less poetically gifted
West Saxons into theirs, and it is in this form that we possess them.
This poetry shows in subject and in treatment very considerable
range. We have a great poem, epic in character; poems partly nar-
rative and partly descriptive; poems that may be classed as lyric or
elegiac in character; a large body of verse containing a paraphrase


## p. 547 (#585) ############################################

ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
547
of portions of the Bible; a collection of 'Riddles'; poems on animals,
with morals; and others difficult to classify.
The regular verse-form was the alliterative, four-accent line, broken
by a strongly marked cæsura into two half-lines, which were in early
editions printed as short lines. The verse was occasionally extended
to six accents. In the normal verse there were two alliterated words
in the first half of the line, each of which received a strong accent;
in the second half there was one accented word in alliteration with
the alliterated words in the first half, and one other accented word
not in alliteration. A great license was allowed as to the number of
unaccented syllables, and as to their position in regard to the accented
ones; and this lent great freedom and vigor to the verse.
When
well constructed and well read, it must have been very effective.
There were of course many variations from the normal number,
three, of alliterated words, as it would be impossible to find so many
for every line.
. Something of the quality of this verse-form may be felt in trans-
lations which aim at the same effect. Notice the result in the follow-
ing from Professor Gummere's version of as election from 'Beowulf):-
« Then the warriors went, as the way was showed to them,
Under Heorot's roof; the hero stepped,
Hardy 'neath helm, till the hearth he neared. )
In these verses it will be noted that the alliteration is complete
in the first and third, and that in the second it is incomplete.
A marked feature of the Anglo-Saxon poetry is parallelism, or the
repetition of an idea by means of new phrases or epithets, most fre-
quently within the limits of a single sentence. This proceeds from
the desire to emphasize attributes ascribed to the deity, or to some
person or object prominent in the sentence. But while the added
epithets have often a cumulative force, and are picturesque, yet it
must be admitted that they sometimes do not justify their introduc-
This may be best illustrated by an example. The following,
in the translation of Earle, is Cadmon's first hymn, composed between
658 and 680, and the earliest piece of Anglo-Saxon poetry that we
know to have had its origin in England:-
«Now shall we glorify the guardian of heaven's realm.
The Maker's might and the thought of his mind;
The work of the Glory-Father, how He of every wonder,
He, the Lord eternal, laid the foundation.
He shaped erst for the sons of men
Heaven, their roof, Holy Creator;
The middle world, He, mankind's sovereign,
Eternal captain, afterwards created,
The land for men, Lord Almighty. ”


## p. 548 (#586) ############################################

548
ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
(
Many of the figurative expressions are exceedingly vigorous and
poetic; some to our taste not so much so. Note the epithets in the
lank wolf,” «the wan raven,” “bird greedy for slaughter,” “the dewy-
winged eagle,” « dusky-coated,” «crooked-beaked,” «horny-beaked,”
”
«the maid, fair-cheeked,” curly-locked, “elf-bright. ” To the Anglo-
Saxon poet, much that we call metaphorical was scarcely more than
literal statement. As the object pictured itself to his responsive
imagination, he expressed it with what was to him a direct realism.
His lines are filled with a profusion of metaphors of every degree of
effectiveness. To him the sea was “the water-street,” “the swan-
path,” “the strife of the waves,” “the whale-path”; the ship was
«the foamy-necked floater,” “the wave-farer,” “the sea-wood,” «the
sea-horse”; the arrow was “the battle adder”; the battle was spear-
play,” “sword-play”; the prince was the ring-giver,” “the gold-
«
friend”; the throne was the gift-stool”; the body, “the bone-house );
the mind, «the breast-hoard. ”
Indeed, as it has been pointed out by many writers, the metaphor
is almost the only figure of the Anglo-Saxon poetry. The more
developed simile belongs to a riper and more reflective culture, and is
exceedingly rare in this early native product. It has been noted that
Beowulf,' a poem of three thousand one hundred and eighty-four
lines, contains only four or five simple similes, and only one that is
fully carried out. (The ship glides away likest to a bird,” « The
monster's eyes gleam like fire,” are simple examples cited by Ten
Brink, who gives also the elaborate one, «The sword-hilt melted,
likened to ice, when the Father looseneth the chain of frost, and
unwindeth the wave-ropes. ” But even this simile is almost obliter-
ated by the crowding metaphors.
Intensity, an almost abrupt directness, a lack of explanatory detail,
are more general characteristics, though in greatly varying degrees.
As some critic has well said, the Anglo-Saxon poet seems to presup-
pose a knowledge of his subject matter by those he addresses. Such
a style is capable of great swiftness of movement, and is well suited
to rapid description and narrative; but at times roughness or mea-
greness results.
The prevailing tone is one of sadness. In the lyric poetry, this is
so decided that all the Anglo-Saxon lyrics have been called elegies.
This note seems to be the echo of the struggle with an inhospitable
climate, dreary with rain, ice, hail, and snow; and of the uncertain-
ties of life, and the certainty of death. Suffering was never far off,
and everything was in the hands of Fate. This is true at least of
the earlier poetry, and the note is rarely absent even in the Christ-
ian lyrics. A more cheerful strain is sometimes heard, as in the
(Riddles, but it is rather the exception; and any alleged humor is


## p. 549 (#587) ############################################

ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
549
scarcely more than a suspicion. Love and sentiment, in the modern
sense, are not made the subject of Anglo-Saxon poetry, and this
must mean that they did not enter into the Anglo-Saxon life with
the same intensity as into modern life. The absence of this beauti-
ful motive has, to some degree, its compensation in the exceeding
moral purity of the whole literature. It is doubtful whether it has
its equal in this respect.
Anglo-Saxon prose displays, as a general thing, a simple, direct,
and clear style. There is, of course, a considerable difference between
the prose of the earlier and that of the later period, and individual
writers show peculiarities. It displays throughout a marked contrast
with the poetic style, in its freedom from parallelisms in thought
and phrase, from inversions, archaisms, and the almost excessive
wealth of metaphor and epithet. In its early stages, there is apparent
perhaps a poverty of resource, a lack of flexibility; but this charge
cannot be sustained against the best prose of the later period. In the
translations from the Latin it shows a certain stiffness, and becomes
sometimes involved, in the too conscientious effort of the translator
to follow the classic original.
No attempt will be made here to notice, or even to name, all the
large number of literary works of the Anglo-Saxons. It must be
sufficient to examine briefly a few of the most important and char-
acteristic productions of this really remarkable and prolific movement.
The Song of Widsith, the Far Traveler,' is now generally con-
ceded to be, in part at least, the oldest existing Anglo-Saxon poem.
We do not know when it assumed its present form; but it is certain
that it was after the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons, since it has
interpolations from the Christian scribe. The poem seems to give
evidence of being a growth from an original song by a wandering
scôp, or poet, who claims to have visited the Gothic king Eormanric,
«the grim violator of treaties,” who died in 375 or 376. But other
kings are mentioned who lived in the first half of the sixth century.
It is probable, then, that it was begun in the fourth century, and
having been added to by successive gleemen, as it was transmitted
orally, was finally completed in the earlier part of the sixth. It
was then carried over to England, and there first written down in
Northumbria. It possesses great interest because of its antiquity,
and because of the light it throws upon the life of the professional
singer in those ancient times among the Teutons. It has a long
list of kings and places, partly historical, partly mythical or not
identified. The poem, though narrative and descriptive, is also
lyrical. We find here the strain of elegiac sadness, of regretful
retrospection, so generally present in Anglo-Saxon poetry of lyric
character, and usually much more pronounced than in Widsith. '


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ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
Beowulf” is, in many respects, the most important poetical monu-
ment of the Anglo-Saxons. The poem is undoubtedly of heathen
origin, and the evidence that it was a gradual growth, the result of
grouping several distinct songs around one central figure, seems
unmistakable. We may trace it, in its earliest stages, to the ancient
home of the Angles in North Germany. It was transplanted to
England in the migration of the tribes, and was edited in the present
form by some unknown Northumbrian poet. When this occurred we
do not know certainly, but there seems good reason for assuming
the end of the seventh or the beginning of the eighth century as the
time.
The poem is epic in cast and epic in proportion. Although,
judged by the Homeric standard, it falls short in many respects of
the complete form, yet it may without violence be called an epic.
The central figure, Beowulf, a nobly conceived hero, possessing
immense strength, unflinching courage, a never-swerving sense of
honor, magnanimity, and generosity, the friend and champion of the
weak against evil however terrible, is the element of unity in the
whole poem. It is in itself a great honor to the race that they were
able to conceive as their ideal a hero so superior in all that consti-
tutes true nobility to the Greek ideal, Achilles. It is true that the
poem consists of two parts, connected by little more than the fact
that they have the same hero at different times of life; that episodes
are introduced that do not blend perfectly into the unity of the
poem; and that there is a lack of repose and sometimes of lucidity.
Yet there is a dignity and vigor, and a large consistency in the
treatment of the theme, that is epic. Ten Brink says:–«The poet's
intensity is not seldom imparted to the listener.
trayals of battles, although much less realistic than the Homeric
descriptions, are yet at times superior to them, in so far as the
demoniac rage of war elicits from the Germanic fancy a crowding
affluence of vigorous scenes hastily projected in glittering lights of
grim half gloom. ” In addition to its great poetic merit, Beowulfis
of the greatest importance to us on account of the many fine pictures
of ancient Teutonic life it presents.
In the merest outline, the argument of Beowulf) is as follows:-
Hrothgar, King of the Gar-Danes, has built a splendid hall, called
Heorot. This is the scene of royal festivity until a monster from
the fen, Grendel, breaks into it by night and devours thirty of the
king's thanes. From that time the hall is desolate, for no one can
cope with Grendel, and Hrothgar is in despair. Beowulf, the noble
hero of the Geats, in Sweden, hears of the terrible calamity, and with
fourteen companions sails across the sea to undertake the adventure.
Hrothgar receives him joyfully, and after a splendid banquet gives
The por-
(


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ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
551
Heorot into his charge. During the following night, Beowulf is
attacked by Grendel; and after one of his companions has been slain,
he tears out the arm of the monster, who escapes, mortally hurt, to
his fen. On the morrow all is rejoicing; but when night falls, the
monster's mother attacks Heorot, and kills Hrothgar's favorite thane.
The next day, Beowulf pursues her to her den under the waters of
the fen, and after a terrific combat slays her. The hero returns
home to Sweden laden with gifts. This ends the main thread of the
first incident. In the second incident, after an interval of fifty years,
we find Beowulf an old man. He has been for many years king of
the Geats. A fire-breathing dragon, the guardian of a great treasure,
is devastating the land. The heroic old king, accompanied by a
party of thanes, attacks the dragon. All the thanes save one are
cowardly; but the old hero, with the aid of the faithful one, slays
the dragon, not, however, till he is fatally injured. Then follow his
death and picturesque burial.
In this sketch, stirring episodes, graphic descriptions, and fine
effects are all sacrificed. The poem itself is a noble one and the
English people may well be proud of preserving in it the first epic
production of the Teutonic race.
The Fight at Finnsburg' is a fine fragment of epic cast.
Finn saga is at least as old as the Beowulf poem, since the gleeman
at Hrothgar's banquet makes it his theme. From the fragment and
the gleeman's song we perceive that the situation here is much more
complex than is usual in Anglo-Saxon poems, and involves a tragic
conflict of passion. Hildeburh's brother is slain through the treach-
ery of her husband, Finn; her son, partaking of Finn's faithlessness,
falls at the hands of her brother's men; in a subsequent counterplot,
her husband is slain. Besides the extraordinary vigor of the narra-
tive, the theme has special interest in that a woman is really the
central figure, though not treated as a heroine.
A favorite theme in the older lyric poems is the complaint of
some wandering scôp, driven from his home by the exigencies of
those perilous times. Either the singer has been bereft of his
patron by death, or he has been supplanted in his favor by some
successful rival; and he passes in sorrowful review his former hap-
piness, and contrasts it with his present misery. The oldest of these
lyrics are of pagan origin, though usually with Christian additions.
In the “Wanderer,' an unknown poet pictures the exile who has
fied across the sea from his home. He is utterly lonely. He must
lock his sorrow in his heart. In his dream he embraces and kisses
his lord, and lays his head upon his knee, as of old. He awakes,
and sees nothing but the gray sea, the snow and hail, and the birds
dipping their wings in the waves. And so he reflects: the world is


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full of care; we are all in the hands of Fate. Then comes. the
Christian sentiment: happy is he who seeks comfort with his Father
in heaven, with whom alone all things are enduring.
Another fine poem of this class, somewhat similar to the Wan-
derer,' is the Seafarer. ” It is, however, distinct in detail and treat-
ment, and has its own peculiar beauty. In the Fortunes of Men,'
the poet treats the uncertainty of all things earthly, from the point
of view of the parent forecasting the ill and the good the future
may bring to his sons. Deor's Lament' possesses genuine lyrical
quality of high order. The singer has been displaced by a rival, and
finds consolation in his grief from reciting the woes that others have
endured, and reflects in each instance, “That was got over, and so
this may be. ” Other poems on other subjects might be noticed here;
as “The Husband's Message,' where the love of husband for wife is
the theme, and “The Ruin,' which contains reflections suggested by
a ruined city.
It is a remarkable fact that only two of these poets are known
to us by name, Cædmon and Cynewulf. We find the story of the
inspiration, work, and death of Cædmon, the earlier of these, told in
the pages of Bede. The date of his birth is not given, but his death
fell in 680. He was a Northumbrian, and was connected in a lay
capacity with the great monastery of Whitby. He was uneducated,
and not endowed in his earlier life with the gift of song. One
night, after he had fled in mortification from a feast where all were
required to improvise and sing, he received, as he slept, the divine
inspiration. The next day he made known his new gift to the
authorities of the monastery. After he had triumphantly made good
his claims, he was admitted to holy orders, and began his work of
paraphrasing into noble verse portions of the Scriptures that were
read to him. Of the body of poetry that comes down to us under
his name, we cannot be sure that any is his, unless we except the
short passage given here. It is certainly the work of different poets,
and varies in merit. The evidence seems conclusive that he was a
poet of high order, that his influence was very great, and that many
others wrote in his manner. The actors and the scenery of the
Cædmonian poetry are entirely Anglo-Saxon, only the names and the
outline of the narrative being biblical; and the spirit of battle that
breathes in some passages is the same that we find in the heathen
epic.
Cynewulf was most probably a Northumbrian, though this is
sometimes questioned.
The dates of his birth and death are un-
known. It seems established, however, that his work belongs to the
eighth century. A great deal of controversy has arisen over a num-
ber of poems that have been ascribed to him and denied to him


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ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
553
with equal persistency. But we stand upon sure ground in regard to
four poems, the Christ,' the Fates of the Apostles,' 'Juliana,' and
'Elene); for he has signed them in runes. If the runic enigma in
the first of the Riddles) has been correctly interpreted, then they,
or portions of them, are his also. But about this there is much
doubt. The Andreas) and the Dream of the Rood' may be men-
tioned as being of exceptional interest among the poems that are
almost certainly his. In the latter, he tells, in a personal strain, the
story of the appearance to him of the holy cross, and of his con-
version and dedication of himself to the service of Christ. The
Elene,' generally considered the finest of his poems, is the story of
the miraculous finding of the holy cross by St. Helena, the mother
of the Emperor Constantine. The poet has lent great charm to the
tradition in his treatment. The poem sounds a triumphant note
throughout, till we reach the epilogue, where the poet speaks in his
own person and in a sadder tone.
The quality of Cynewulf's poetry is unequal; but when he is at
his best, he is a great poet and a great artist. His personality
appears in direct subjective utterance more plainly than does that of
any other Anglo-Saxon poet.
While we must pass over many fine Anglo-Saxon poems without
mention, there are two that must receive some notice. Judith)
is an epic based upon the book of Judith in the Apocrypha. ' Only
about one-fourth of it has survived. The author is still unknown, in
spite of many intelligent efforts to determine to whom the honor
belongs. The dates assigned to it vary from the seventh to the
tenth century; here, too, uncertainty prevails: but we are at least
sure that it is one of the best of the Anglo-Saxon poems. It has
been said that this work shows a more definite plan and more con-
scious art than any other Anglo-Saxon poem.
Brooke finds it some-
times conventional in the form of expression, and denies it the
highest rank for that reason. But he does not seem to sustain the
charge. The two principal characters, the dauntless Judith and the
brutal Holofernes, stand out with remarkable distinctness, and a fine
dramatic quality has been noted by several critics. The epithets and
metaphors, the description of the drunken debauch, and the swift,
powerful narrative of the battle and the rout of the Assyrians, are in
the best Anglo-Saxon epic strain. The poem is distinctly Christian;
for the Hebrew heroine, with a naïve anachronism, prays thus: “God
of Creation, Spirit of Consolation, Son of the Almighty, I pray for
Thy mercy to me, greatly in need of it, Glory of the Trinity. ”
“The Battle of Maldon is a ballad, containing an account of a
fight between the Northmen and the East Saxons under the Aldor-
man, Byrhtnoth. The incident is mentioned in one MS. of the


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ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
own men.
Chronicle under the date of 991; in another, under the date of 993.
The poem is exceedingly graphic. The poet seems filled with in-
tense feeling, and may have been a spectator, or may indeed have
taken part in the struggle. He tells how the brave old Aldorman
disdains to use the advantage of his position, which bade fair to
give him victory. Like a boy, he cannot take a dare, but fatuously
allows the enemy to begin the battle upon an equal footing with his
He pays for his noble folly with his life and the defeat
of his army.
The devotion of the Aldorman's hearth-companions,
who refuse to survive their lord, and with brave words meet their
death, is finely described. But not all are true; some, who have
been especially favored, ignobly flee. These are treated with the
racial contempt for cowards. The poem has survived in fragmentary
form, and the name of the poet is not known.
As distinguished from all poetical remains of such literature, the
surviving prose of the Anglo-Saxons, though extensive, and of the
greatest interest and value, is less varied in subject and manner than
their poetry.
It admits of brief treatment. The earliest known
specimens of Anglo-Saxon prose writing have been already men-
tioned. These do not constitute the beginning of a literature, yet,
with the rest of the extensive collection of Anglo-Saxon laws that
has survived, they are of the greatest importance to students. Earle
quotes Dr. Reinhold Schmid as saying, “No other Germanic nation
has bequeathed to us out of its earliest experience so rich a treasure
of original legal documents as the Anglo-Saxon nation has,” — only
another instance of the precocity of our ancestors.
To the West Saxons belongs nearly the whole of Anglo-Saxon
prose. Whatever may have existed in Northumbria perished in the
inroads of the Northmen, except such parts as may have been incor-
porated in West Saxon writings. It will be remembered, however,
that the great Northumbrian prose writers had held to the Latin as
their medium. The West Saxon prose literature may be said to
begin in Alfred's reign.
The most important production that we have to consider is the
famous Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. ' It covers with more or less com-
pleteness the period from 449 to 1154. This was supplemented by
fanciful genealogies leading back to Woden, or even to Adam. It
is not known when the practice of jotting down in the native speech
notices of contemporary events began, but probably in very early
times. It is believed, however, that no intelligent effort to collect
and present them with order and system was made until the middle
of the ninth century. In the oldest of the seven MSS. in which it
has come down to us, we have the Chronicle) to 891, as it was
written down in Alfred's time and probably under his supervision.


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ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE
555
The meagreness of the earliest entries and the crudeness of the
language, together with occasional picturesque force, indicate that
many of them were drawn from current song or tradition. The style
and fullness of the entries differ greatly throughout, as might be
expected, since the Chronicle is the work of so many hands. From
mere bare notices they vary to strong, full narrative and description.
Indeed, the Chronicle contains some of the most effective prose
produced by the Anglo-Saxons; and in one instance, under the date
937, the annalist describes the battle of Brunanburh in a poem of
considerable merit. But we know the name of no single contributor.
This Chronicle is the oldest and most important work of the
kind produced outside of the classical languages in Europe. It is
meagre in places, and its entire trustworthiness has been questioned.
But it and Bede's Ecclesiastical History,' supplemented by other
Anglo-Saxon writings, constitute the basis of early English history:
and this fact alone entitles it to the highest rank in importance
among ancient documents.
A large body of Anglo-Saxon prose, nearly all of it translation or
adaptation of Latin works, has come down to us under the name of
King Alfred. A peculiar interest attaches to these works. They
belong to a period when the history of England depended more than
at any other time upon the ability and devotion of one man; and
that man, the most heroic and the greatest of English kings, was
himself the author of them.
When Alfred became king, in 871, his throne seemed tottering to
its fall. Practically all the rest of England was at the feet of the
ruthless Northmen, and soon Alfred himself was little better than a
fugitive. But by his military skill, which was successful if not brill-
iant, and by his never-wavering devotion and English persistency,
he at last freed the southern part of the island from his merciless
and treacherous enemies, and laid the firm foundation of West Saxon
supremacy. If Alfred had failed in any respect to be the great king
that he was, English history would have been changed for all time.
Although Alfred had saved his kingdom, yet it was a kingdom
almost in ruins. The hopeful advance of culture had been entirely
arrested. The great centres of learning had been utterly destroyed
in the north, and little remained intact in the south. And even
worse than this was the demoralization of all classes, and an indispo-
sition to renewed effort. There was, moreover, a great scarcity of
books.