Section VIII.
Resemblance of the People to the Danes and Norwegians.—Proper
Names.—Popular Language.—Songs and Legends.
The present English people is certainly composed, as we have seen, of the most heterogeneous elements. The Englishman reckons among his ancestors Britons, Romans, Anglo-Saxons, and Northmen, especially Danes and Normans. All these people, who successively reigned over England for centuries, must naturally have left numerous descendants behind them. But as in ancient times it was a combat of life and death for dominion, the conquered and their posterity could not immediately amalgamate with the conquerors. Long after the Norman conquest (1066) the Britons, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, were still hostilely opposed to each other. These disputes were brought to a close during the middle ages; prejudices vanished; mixed marriages became more frequent; the different races acquired common interests; and at last, with the exception of those Britons who kept themselves aloof in Wales, passed into one great nation. From this time it was no longer usual in marriages to regard family descent; it was only some of the richer sort, and higher lineage, who considered it an honour to preserve the original blood as pure as possible. There are families still to be found in England who pretend that they descend in a direct line from Saxon or Norman ancestors, and who assert that Saxon or Norman features have been transmitted to them. But even these families have in the course of time been considerably mixed with races of an entirely different extraction; nay, even the Britons in Wales have not been able to prevent some of the hated English blood from gradually supplying and deteriorating that which runs in their own veins. Moreover, if we consider what an immense number of Irishmen, Frenchmen, Germans, Jews, and others, have, particularly during later centuries, immigrated into England, where they have settled, and by degrees married natives; and, lastly, if we remember that most foreigners have settled on the east coast, or in the midland and north-eastern districts; we might almost deem it impossible to point out from the features and bodily frame of the inhabitants of these districts, any preponderating degree of descent from Saxons, Danes, or any one race of people that colonized England in times so long past. In this respect we can of course scarcely think of comparing districts of small extent, such as two neighbouring parishes, or two adjoining counties on the east coast of England. Nevertheless, if by taking a survey of such extensive districts as north and south England, we were able to discover a tolerably decided difference in the general appearance of the inhabitants, this would be a weighty corroboration of the assertions of history, and of the proof derived from names, that these districts were originally peopled by inhabitants of entirely different descent.
The Englishman of London, and the rest of southern England, does not in general betray in his exterior any perceptible resemblance to the Danes and Norwegians. On the contrary, he decidedly differs from them. The black hair, the dark eye, the fine hooked nose, and the long oval countenance, remind one either of relationship with the Romans, whose chief seat in England was in the south, or rather, perhaps, of a strong compound between the ancient Britons and the Anglo-Saxon and Norman races, which afterwards immigrated into England. Many of the Britons seem to have been dark-haired; for among their descendants in Wales, as well as among their near kinsmen, the Highland Scots and the Irish, there are still frequently found—and particularly in remote districts, as, for instance, in the Hebrides—dark-haired and generally small people, having on the whole dark complexions. It was, too, in the south and south-west of England that the greatest mixture took place between the original British tribes and those that afterwards came over.
But as we proceed from the southern towards the middle and northern parts of England, we find that by degrees an entirely different physiognomy, which before we only got a glimpse of now and then, and which could scarcely be remarked in the confusion of people in London, becomes more and more the prevailing one. The farther one proceeds towards Northumberland, the more distinct does it become. The form of the face is broader, the cheek bones project a little, the nose is somewhat flatter, and at times turned a little upwards, the eyes and hair are of a lighter colour, and even deep red hair is far from being uncommon. The people are not very tall in stature, but usually more compact and strongly built than their countrymen towards the south. The Englishman himself seems to acknowledge that a difference is to be found in the appearance of the inhabitants of the northern and southern counties; at least one constantly hears in England, when red-haired compact-built men with broad faces are spoken of; “They must certainly be from Yorkshire:” a sort of admission that light hair, and the broad peculiar form of the face, belong mostly to the north-of-England people. On the other hand, little importance must be attached to the circumstance that Englishmen generally attribute the red hair to the immigration of the Danes; for though it is true that many Danes, and particularly many Norwegians, were red haired, yet some tribes of the original Celtic inhabitants of the British Isles also had red hair; and the same feature may likewise be partly ascribed to the Saxons.
In the midland, and especially in the northern part of England, I saw every moment, and particularly in the rural districts, faces exactly resembling those at home. Had I met the same persons in Denmark or Norway, it would never have entered my mind that they were foreigners. Now and then I also met with some whose taller growth and sharper features reminded me of the inhabitants of South Jutland, or Sleswick, and particularly of Angeln; districts of Denmark which first sent colonists to England. It is not easy to describe peculiarities which can be appreciated in all their details only by the eye; nor dare I implicitly conclude that in the above-named cases I have really met with persons descended in a direct line from the old Northmen. I adduce it only as a striking fact, which will not escape the attention of at least any observant Scandinavian traveller, that the inhabitants of the north of England bear, on the whole, more than those of any other part of that country, an unmistakeable personal resemblance to the Danes and Norwegians.
Old Scandinavian national names, such as Thorkil, Erik, Haldan, Harald, Else, and several others, were formerly, at least, not unfrequently used in these districts. Surnames, such as Adamson, Jackson, Johnson, Nelson (Nielson), Thomson, Stevenson, Swainson, and others, all of which have endings in son or sen, which never appear in Saxon names, still frequently occur. The ending sön or sen (a son) is quite peculiar to the countries of Scandinavia, whence it was brought over to England by the Scandinavian colonists. It is not, however, confined to the north of England, but is spread over all the British Islands where the Northmen settled; for instance, in Scotland we find Anderson, Matheson, &c. It is very remarkable that the name of Johnson, which, as is well known, is one of the commonest in England, is also, perhaps, in the selfsame form, that which most frequently occurs in Iceland.
The still-existing popular dialect affords an excellent proof that the resemblance of the inhabitants of the northern counties of England to the Danes and Norwegians is not confined to a, perhaps accidental, personal likeness. The pure English language itself includes, both with regard to its vocabulary and inflexions, many Scandinavian elements, the result of the Danish immigration. But, in the north of England, many words and phrases are preserved in the popular language, which are neither found nor understood in other parts, although they sound quite familiar to every Northman. These original Scandinavian terms are not only applied, as I have before said, to waterfalls, mountains, rivulets, fords, and islands, but are also in common use in daily life; as, for instance, late (Dan., lede; Eng., to seek), lite (Dan., lide; Eng., to rely), helle (Dan., helde; Eng., to pour out), hit (Dan., hitte; Eng., to find), clip (Dan., klippe; Eng., to cut), forelders (Dan., Forældre, or Forfædre; Eng., ancestors, forefathers), updaals (Dan., opdals; Eng., up the valley), kirk-folk (Dan., Kirkefolk; Eng., people going to church), kirk-garth (Dan., Kirke-gaard; Eng., churchyard), with many others.
These originally Scandinavian words are now chiefly found in the north-west of England, among the remote mountains of Yorkshire, Westmoreland, Cumberland, and Lancashire, where they have withstood the changes of time. On entering a house there one will find the housewife sitting with her rock (Dan., Rok; Eng., a distaff) and spoele (Dan., Spole; Eng., spool, a small wheel on the spindle); or else she has set both her rock and her garnwindle (Dan., Garnvinde; Eng., reel or yarn-winder) aside, whilst standing by her back-bword (Dan., Bagebord; Eng., baking-board) she is about to knead dough (Dan., Deig), in order to make the oaten bread commonly used in these parts, at times, also, barley-bread; for clap-bread (Dan. Klappebröd, or thin cakes beaten out with the hand) she lays the dough on the clap-board (Dan., Klappebord). One will also find the bord-claith spread (Dan., Bordklæde; Eng., table-cloth); the people of the house then sit on the bank or bink (Dan., Bænk; Eng., bench), and eat Aandorn (Eng., afternoon’s repast), or, as it is called in Jutland and Fünen, Onden (dinner). The chimney, lovver, stands in the room; which name may perhaps be connected with the Scandinavian lyre (Icelandic, ljóri); viz., the smoke-hole in the roof or thatch (thack), out of which in olden times, before houses had regular chimneys and “lofts” (Dan., Loft; Eng., roof, an upper room), the smoke (reek or reik, Dan., Rög) left the dark (mirk or murk, Dan., mörk) room. Within is the bower or boor (Eng., bed-chamber), in Danish, Buur; as, for instance, in the old Danish word Jomfrubuur (the maiden’s chamber), and in the modern word Fadebuur (the pantry).
Outside, in the garth, or yard (Dan., Gaard), stands the roomy lathe, or barn (Dan., Lade), which directly shows how fruitful the soil is that belongs to the garth (Dan., Gaard; Eng., a manor, farm). The shepherd or herdsman, whose nowth (Dan., Nöd; Eng., neat cattle) are restless in the boose (Dan., Baas; Eng., stall) and crib (Dan., Krybbe; Eng., manger), is about to cleanse the stable, and with a greype, or gripe (Dan., Möggreve; Eng., dung-fork), bears out the muck (Dan., Mög; Eng., dung) to the midding (Dan., Mödding; Eng., dunghill). If we accompany him to the fields he tells us in a lively tone about the many threaves of corn (Dan., Traver, bundles of twenty or thirty sheaves), particularly of big (Dan., Byg; Eng. barley) that have been got from the poor ling (Dan., Lyng; Eng., fern) which covers the sides of the haughs or haws (Dan., Höie; Eng., hills); of all the slaa-torns (Dan., Slaatjörn; Eng., sloes), lins (Dan., Lindetræer; Eng., linden trees), roan trees (Dan., Rönnetrær; Eng., Scotch rowan trees), and allars (Dan., Elletræer; Eng., alders), that grow in yonder little shaw (Dan., Skov; Eng., wood), or in that lawnd (Dan., Lund; Eng., grove), which is likewise full of hindberries (Dan., Hindbær; Eng., raspberries), and which is resorted to by many gowks (Dan., Gjöge; Eng., cuckoos). A field farther on, which in its time was acquired by mackshift (Dan., Mageskifte; Eng., deed of exchange), has been allowed to ley-breck (Dan., ligge-brak; Eng., to lie fallow). Through this field winds a beck (Dan., Bæk; Eng., brook), or rivulet well stocked with fish, in which with a liester (Dan., Lyster; Icelandic, Ljöstr, grains, or a sort of barbed iron fork on a long pole) one may be able to make a good capture.
In the river are the trows, or troughs (Jutland, trow; Old Scan., Þró), made use of to cross over to the opposite shore. These trows, or troughs, are two small boats, originally trunks of trees hollowed out, and held together by a cross-pole. He who wishes to pass over places a foot in each trough or boat, and rows himself forward with the help of an oar. It is said that Edmund Ironsides and Canute the Great rowed over to the Isle of Olney (in the river Severn) in such boats at the time when they concluded an agreement to divide England between them. The original inhabitants of Europe undoubtedly passed the great rivers in the same simple manner.
Amongst the words in the popular language that still remind one of ancient Scandinavian customs, those of yuletide, yuling (Christmas), yule-candles (Dan., Julelys), and yule-cakes (Dan., Julekager), deserve particular notice. Christmas was certainly kept as a solemn feast among the Anglo-Saxons, but it does not appear to have had that importance with them which it had with the Scandinavians; of which this is a proof, that the old name of Christmas (Yule) is preserved only in those districts in the north that were more especially colonized by the Northmen. Yule, or the mid-winter feast, was, in the olden times, as it still partly is, the greatest festival in the countries of Scandinavia. Yule bonfires were kindled round about as festival-fires to scare witches and wizards; offerings were made to the gods; the boar dedicated to Freÿr (Dan., Sonegalte) was placed on the table, and over it the warriors vowed to perform great deeds. Pork, mead, and ale abounded, and yuletide passed merrily away with games, gymnastics, and mirth of all kinds. It is singular enough that even to the present day it is not only the custom in several parts of England to bring a garnished boar’s-head to table at Christmas, but that the descendants of the Northmen, in Yorkshire and the ancient Northumberland, do not even now neglect to place a large piece of wood on the fire on Christmas Eve, which is by some called the yule-block, by others yule-clog, or yule-log (perhaps from the old Scandinavian lág, log, a felled tree; Norwegian, laag). Superstitious persons do not, however, allow the whole log to be consumed, but take it out of the fire again in order to preserve it until the following year. Exactly similar observances of Christmas customs still exist in the Scandinavian North. At Smaaland, in Sweden, a boar’s-head, called julhös (from hös, the skull), is set on the table at Christmas; and in East Gothland a large loaf, called juhlegalt, is seen on table throughout the festival, of which, however, nothing is eaten. Juhlhös and juhlegalt, as well as the boar’s-head in the north of England before alluded to, owe their origin unmistakeably to the expiatory barrow-pig, or “Galt,” offered up by the old Northmen to Freÿr. The remembrance of the games of the Northmen is also preserved in England in the Scandinavian word lake (to play), which is heard only in the ancient Danish districts.
To enumerate all the Scandinavian words in the English popular tongue would, from their quantity, be both a tedious and a superfluous labour. The following selection of a hundred of the most common of them will surely be regarded as sufficient clearly to prove in what a highly remarkable manner “the Danish tongue” has imprinted itself on the north of England, in comparison with other countries occupied by the Normans, as, for example, Normandy; where the Scandinavian language, notwithstanding the very considerable immigrations from Scandinavia, has disappeared to such a degree that but very few traces of it now remain.
A Hundred Danish Words, selected from the Vulgar Tongue,
or Common Language, North of Watlinga Stræt.
| Provincial English[[8]]. | English. | Danish. |
|---|---|---|
| arr | scar | Ar |
| attercop | spider | Edderkop |
| awns | beads of corn | Avner |
| bank | to beat | banke |
| bairn, bearn | child | Barn |
| bede | to pray | bede |
| bid | to invite | byde, indbyde |
| bide | to stay | bie |
| big, biggin | to build, building | bygge, Bygning |
| blend | to mix | blande |
| boll, or bole | trunk of a tree | Bul (Træ) |
| brosten | burst | brusten |
| clammer | to quarrel, grasp | klamres, fast-klamre |
| claver | to climb | klavre |
| cluve | hoof | Klov, Hov |
| dyke, dike | ditch | Dige |
| elt | to knead | ælte |
| festing-penny | earnest-money | Fæstepenge |
| fra | from | fra |
| frem folks | strangers | Fremmede Folk |
| full | drunk | fuld, drukken |
| gainest way | nearest way | Gjenvei |
| gammon | merriment | Gammen |
| gants, ganty | to be merry | gantes |
| gar | to make | gjöre |
| gar | to hedge | gjerde |
| glowing (glouring) | staring | gloende |
| greit, greets | to weep, tears | grœde, Graad |
| grepen | clasped | greben |
| grise | young pig | Griis |
| groats | husked corn | grudtet Korn |
| hack | to stammer | hakke, stamme |
| halikeld | holy-well | Helligkilde |
| hand clout | towel | Haandklæde |
| handsel | earnest | Handsel |
| harns, harns-pan | brain, brain pan | Hjerne, Hjerne-skal |
| heck | hay-rack | Hække (til Hö) |
| hesp | latch | Haspe (Dör) |
| hose | stocking | hose |
| kaam, kem | comb, to comb | Kam, kæmme |
| kail, kale | cabbage | Kaal |
| kern-milk | churn-milk | Kjernemelk |
| kern | to churn | kjerne |
| kilt | to tuck up | kilte (op) |
| kitling | young cat | Killing |
| laid | just froze | logt (Iis) |
| mauf, meaugh | brother-in-law | Maag, Svoger |
| mind | to remember | mindes |
| nab | to catch | nappe |
| neaf (or neif) neaf-full | fist, handful | Næve, Nævefuld |
| neb | bill, beak | Næb |
| nipping | to sip | nippe |
| pot-scar | pot-sherd | Potteskaar |
| quern | hand-mill | Qværn |
| querken’d | suffocated | qværket |
| raise | a heap of stones, cairn | Rös, Steendysse |
| read (or rede) | to guess, know fully | raade, udtyde |
| read | to comb | rede (Haar) |
| reasty | toasted | ristet |
| rid | to remove | rydde |
| rig, riggin | back, ridge of a house | Ryg, Rygning |
| rip up | to revive (injuries) | rippe op |
| rise | underwood | Riis (Underskov) |
| rive | to split, divide | rive (splitte) |
| sackless | without suit | sageslös |
| sark | shirt | Særk |
| scarn | dung | Skarn (Smuds) |
| schrike (or skrike) | to cry, shriek | skrige |
| scoll | toast (health) | Skaal (Drikkelag) |
| sele | to bind, fasten | bind i Sele |
| skift | to change (clothes) | skifte (Klæder) |
| slade | sledge | Slæde |
| sleck | to put out (quench) | slukke |
| smiddy | blacksmith’s shop | Smedie |
| smooth-hole | hiding-place | Smuthul |
| smouch | kiss | Smadsk (Kys) |
| snirp | to pine | snirpe |
| speer (or spar) | to ask | spörge |
| spire | young tree | Spire |
| stee (or stey) | ladder | Stige |
| steert | point | Stjert |
| stew | dust | Stöv |
| stive | to raise dust | stöve |
| stumpy | short, thick | stumpet |
| stot | young horse, or bullock | Stod (Hest) |
| swale | shade | Svale (Skygge) |
| sype (or sipe) | to drop gently (ooze) | sive |
| tang | sea-weed | Tang |
| theaker | thatcher | Tækker |
| toom (or tuam) | empty | tom |
| twine | to murmur, weep | tvine |
| unrid | disorderly, filthy | uredt, urede |
| uphold | to maintain | holde oppe |
| wadmal, woadmel | coarse woollen cloth | Vadmel |
| wan | rod | Vaand |
| wark | ache, pain | Værk (Smerte) |
| way zalt | to weigh salt, a game | veie Salt (Leeg) |
| wong | a field | Vænge |
[8]. Many of these words are Scotch.
These numerous and striking Danish terms, still existing in the north of England almost a thousand years after the destruction of the Danish power there, and after an almost equally protracted struggle with the constant progress of the English language, show that the Scandinavian tongue must possess no mean degree of durability. These Scandinavian words, moreover, taken in conjunction with the unusually numerous Scandinavian names of places in England, put it beyond all doubt that a Scandinavian population must have been far more diffused, and have taken much deeper root there, than in any other foreign land.
The popular language of the north of England is particularly remarkable for its agreement with the dialects found in the peninsula of Jutland. Several words which are common to the north of England and Jutland, are not to be found elsewhere. For instance, in the north of England, the shafts of the carts used there are called limmers, a word clearly of the same origin as the Jutlandish liem, a broom; both being derived from the old Scandinavian limi, which signifies boughs, branches. But it is the broad pronunciation in particular that makes the resemblance so surprising. Thus, for instance, we have in the north of England, sty’an (Dan., Steen; Eng., a stone), yen (Dan., een; Eng., one), welt (Dan., vælte; Eng., to upset), swelt (Dan., vansmægte; Eng., overcome with heat and exercise), maw (Dan., Mave; Eng., stomach), lowe (Dan., Lue; Eng., flame), donse (Dan., dandse; Eng., dance), fey (Dan., feie; Eng., to sweep), ouse (Dan., Oxe; Eng., ox), roun (Dan., Rogn; Eng., spawn or roe of fishes), war and war (Dan., værre og værre; Eng., worse and worse); with many others of the same kind, which are pure Jutlandish.
On the whole, of all the Danish dialects the Jutland approaches nearest to the English. The West Jutlander uses the article æ before words like the English “the,” although the Danish language in other provinces does not recognise such an article; and the broad open w, which the natives of Funen and Zealand can, after the greatest difficulty, only pronounce with tolerable correctness, is as easy for the Jutlander as for the Englishman. Many Danish words pronounced in Jutlandish become purely English; as, for instance, foul (Eng., fowl; Dan., Fugl), kow (Eng., cow; Dan., Ko), fued (Eng., food; Dan., Fod), stued (Eng., stood; Dan., stod), drown (Eng., drown; Dan., drukne); besides many others. Many words are even quite common to Jutland and England; such as the Jutlandish forenoun and atternoun (Eng., forenoon and afternoon; Dan., Formiddag and Eftermiddag), stalker (Eng., stalker; Dan., en Stork), kok (Eng., cock; Dan., en Hane), want (Eng., to want; Dan., mangle, behöve).
This affords a very important proof of the close connection which must have anciently subsisted between Jutland and England. Although it may be doubtful to what extent the Jutes had tracts specially assigned to them for their settlements in the south of England (as in Kent and the Isle of Wight, at the time of the Anglo-Saxon conquest in the fifth century), it is, at all events, quite certain that, both at that time and at a later period, a number of Jutes settled on the east coast of England, and particularly in the more northern districts. Jutland lies nearer to England than any other part of Scandinavia. The Limfjord, which in remote ages was a roadstead for the Vikings’ ships, and afterwards the rendezvous of Saint Canute’s fleet when he intended to reconquer England, certainly dispatched numerous Vikings’ barks to the British coasts. In legends still existing in Jutland, the old connections with England, and the wars there, are not forgotten; nay, in some places the people tell of battles fought with the English in Jutland itself: of which ancient names of places likewise bear witness, as in the neighbourhood of Holstebro, “Angelandsmoor” (Angelandsmosen), with the adjacent “Prince Angel’s barrow” (Prinds Angels Höi), which is surrounded with a number of tumuli. The remembrance of the same old connections with England still resounds in the Jutlandish and other ancient Scandinavian ballads, or heroic songs, in which the scene is frequently laid on the “engelandish strand.”
The near relationship of the north Englishmen with the Danes and their Scandinavian brothers is reflected both in popular songs and in the folk-lore. It is well known that the old Northmen were in a high degree lovers of minstrelsy. The Scandinavian kings were generally accompanied on their Viking expeditions by bards, who encouraged and cheered the champions with songs respecting the exploits of former times, and about every glorious deed that had been performed during the expeditions. These historical epics passed from mouth to mouth, and from generation to generation. Nor did the Scandinavian conqueror in foreign lands disdain to be celebrated by the bards of his native country. Canute the Great, who was himself a poet, placed the Scandinavian bard high in his hall; and numerous lays, which are still partly preserved in the Sagas, sounded his fame over the north. After the warlike life of heathenism had ceased, the poetical and historical talent of the people expressed itself in ballads and heroic songs, which, during the middle ages, succeeded the lays of the ancient bards. The old ballad, in its characteristic form, belongs peculiarly to the countries of Scandinavia; and it is very remarkable that the corresponding English ballads, which often, both in their prevailing tone and in their form—as, for instance, with regard to the burthen—betray a surprising similarity with the Scandinavian, are in England found exclusively in the north. They are, however, heard still more frequently in the Scotch Lowlands, whither great immigrations of Northmen also took place. In the north of England a very peculiar kind of song for two voices was also formerly heard, and which the English themselves ascribed to the Danes.
It is more difficult to adduce pure Scandinavian remains of popular superstitions, as in this respect the Teutonic races have so very much in common; and consequently one is afraid to draw too strong conclusions from the striking agreement usually shown in the phantoms of the imagination among north Englishmen and their Scandinavian kinsmen. Yet it deserves to be mentioned that the Scandinavian name Nök (a river-sprite), is not yet forgotten in Yorkshire; although some by “Nick” or “Oud-Nick” erroneously imagine the devil to be meant, instead of the water-sprite. Many little tricks performed by the nix (Dan., nisse, a brownîe) are known there, as well as in Scandinavia. Once, in England, the conversation happening to turn on these little beings, I related our Scandinavian legend about a peasant who was plagued and teazed in all possible ways by a nisse or brownîe, till at last he could bear it no longer, and determined to flit (move house) to another place. When he had conveyed almost all his goods to the new house, and was just driving thither with the last load, he accidently turned round, and whom did he see? Why, the brownîe with his red cap, who sat quietly on the top of the load, and nodded familiarly to him, with the words, “Now we flit.” One of the persons present immediately expressed a lively surprise on hearing a legend related as Danish, and that, too, almost word for word, which he had often heard in Lancashire in his youth. The word flit was, and still is, used there by the common people.
A natural result of the long-continued and extensive dominion of the Danes in the north of England is, that they also are classed with the invisible mystical beings, which, in the imagination of the people, haunt that district. In certain places among the remote mountains of the north-west, people still fancy that they hear on the evening breeze tones as of strings played upon, and melancholy lays in a foreign tongue. Often, too, even when nobody hears anything unusual, the animals prick up their ears as if in astonishment. It is “the Danish boy,” who sadly sings the old bardic lays over the barrows of his once mighty forefathers.