It is no doubt probable that the whole land was not subdued without some pains in different quarters; that here and there a courageous leader or a favourable position may have enabled the aborigines to obtain even temporary successes over the invaders: the new immigrants were not likely to find land vacant for their occupation among their kinsmen who had long been settled here, though well-assured of their co-operation in any attempt to wrest new settlements from the British. But no authentic record remains of the slow and gradual progress that would have attended the conquest of a brave and united people, nor is any such consistent with the accounts the British authors have left of the disorganized and disarmed condition of the population. A skirmish, carried on by very small numbers on either side, seems generally to have decided the fate of a campaign. Steadily from east to west, from south to north, the sharp axes and long swords of the Teutons hewed their way: wherever opposition was offered, it ended in the retreat of the aborigines to the mountains,—fortresses whence it was impossible to dislodge them, and from which they sometimes descended to attempt a hopeless effort for the liberty of their country or revenge upon their oppressors. The ruder or more generous of their number may have preferred exile and the chances of emigration to subjection at home[[36]]; but the mass of the people, accustomed to Roman rule or the oppression of native princes[[37]], probably suffered little by a change of masters, and did little to avoid it. At even a later period an indignant bard could pour out his patriotic reproaches upon the Loegrians who had condescended to become Saxons. We learn that at first the condition of the British under the German rule was fair and easy, and only rendered harsher in punishment of their unsuccessful attempts at rebellion[[38]]; and the laws of Ini, a Westsaxon king, show that in the territories subject to his rule, and bordering upon the yet British lands, the Welshman occupied the place of a perioecian rather than a helot[[39]]. Nothing in fact is more common, or less true, than the exaggerated account of total exterminations and miserable oppressions, in the traditional literature of conquered nations; and we may very safely appeal even to the personal appearance of the peasantry in many parts of England, as evidence how much Keltic blood was permitted to subsist and even to mingle with that of the ruling Germans; while the signatures to very early charters supply us with names assuredly not Teutonic, and therefore probably borne by persons of Keltic race, occupying positions of dignity at the courts of Anglosaxon kings[[40]].
From what has preceded it will be inferred that I look upon the genuine details of the German conquests in England as irrevocably lost to us. So extraordinary a success as the conquest of this island by bands of bold adventurers from the continent, whose cognate tribes had already come into fatal collision with not only the Gallic provincials, but even the levies of the city itself[[41]], could hardly have passed unnoticed by the historians of the empire: we have seen however that only Prosper Tyro and Procopius notice this great event, and that too in terms which by no means necessarily imply a state of things consistent with the received accounts. The former only says indefinitely, that about 441, Britain was finally reduced under the Saxon power; while Procopius clearly shows how very imperfect, indeed fabulous, an account he had received[[42]]. Could we trust the accuracy and critical spirit of this writer, whom no less a man than Gibbon has condescended to call the gravest historian of his time, we might indeed imagine that we had recovered one fact of our earliest history, which brought with it all the attractions of romance. An Angle princess had been betrothed to Radigér, prince of the Varni, a Teutonic tribe whose seats are subsequently described to have been about the shores of the Northern Ocean and upon the Rhine, by which alone they were separated from the Franks[[43]]. Tempted however partly by motives of policy, partly perhaps by maxims of heathendom, he deserted his promised bride and offered his hand to Theodechild, the widow of his father, and sister of the Austrasian Theodberht[[44]]. Like the epic heroine Brynhildr, the deserted lady was not disposed to pass over the affront thus offered to her charms. With an immense armament she sailed for the mouth of the Rhine. A victory placed the faithless bridegroom a prisoner in her power. But desire of revenge gave place to softer emotions, and the triumphant princess was content to dismiss her rival and compel her repentant suitor to perform his engagement.
To deny all historical foundation to this tale would perhaps be carrying scepticism to an unreasonable extent. Yet the most superficial examination proves that in all its details, at least, it is devoid of accuracy. The period during which the events described must be placed[[45]], is between the years 534 and 547; and it is very certain that the Varni were not settled at that time where Procopius has placed them[[46]]: on that locality we can only look for Saxons. It is hardly necessary to say that a fleet of four hundred ships, and an army of one hundred thousand Angles, led by a woman, are not data upon which we could implicitly rely in calculating either the political or military power of any English principality at the commencement of the sixth century; or that ships capable of carrying two hundred and fifty men each, had hardly been launched at that time from any port in England. Still I am not altogether disposed to deny the possibility of predatory expeditions from the more settled parts of the island, adjoining the eastern coasts. Gregory of Tours tells us that about the same time as that assigned to this Angle expedition, Theodoric the Frank, assisted by Sueves, Saxons and even Bavarians, cruelly devastated the territory of the Thuringians; and although it would be far more natural to seek these Saxons in their old settlements upon the continent, we have the authority of Rudolf or Meginhart, that they were in fact inhabitants of this island[[47]].
But if such difficulties exist in dealing with the events of periods which are within the ascertained limits of our chronological system, and which have received the illustration of contemporary history, what shall we say of those whereof the time, nay even the locality is unknown? What account shall we render of those occurrences, which exist for us only in the confused forms given to them by successive ages; some, mischievously determined to reduce the abnormal to rule, the extraordinary to order, as measured by their narrow scheme of analogy? Is it not obvious that to seek for historic truth in such traditions, is to be guilty of violating every principle of historic logic? Such was the course pursued by our early chroniclers, but it is not one that we can be justified in repeating. In their view no doubt, the annals of the several Saxon kingdoms did supply points of definite information; but we are now able to take the measure of their credulity, and to apply severer canons of criticism to the facts themselves which they believed and recorded. If it was the tendency and duty of their age to deliver to us the history that they found, it is the tendency and duty of ours to enquire upon what foundation that history rests, and what amount of authority it may justly claim.
The little that Beda could collect at the beginning of the eighth century, formed the basis of all the subsequent reports. Though not entirely free from the prejudices of his time, and yielding ready faith to tales which his frame of mind disposed him willingly to credit, he seems to have bestowed some pains upon the investigation and critical appreciation of the materials he collected. But the limits of the object he had proposed to himself, viz. the ecclesiastical history of the island, not only imposed upon him the necessity of commencing his detailed narrative at a comparatively late period[[48]], but led him to reject much that may have been well known to him, of our secular history. The deeds of pagan and barbarous chieftains offered little to attract his attention or command his sympathies; indeed were little likely to be objects of interest to those from whom his own information was generally derived. Beda’s account, copied and recopied both at home and abroad, was swelled by a few vague data from the regnal annals of the kings; these were probably increased by a few traditions, ill understood and ill applied, which belonged exclusively to the epical or mythological cycles of our own several tribes and races, and the cognate families of the continent; and finally the whole was elaborated into a mass of inconsistent fables, on the admission of Cymric or Armorican tales by Norman writers, who for the most part felt as little interest in the fate of the Briton as the Saxon, and were as little able to appreciate the genuine history of the one as of the other race. Thus Wóden, Bældæg, Geát, Scyld, Sceáf and Beówa gradually found their way into the royal genealogies; one by one, Brutus, Aurelius Ambrosius, Uther Pendragon and Arthur, Hengest, Hors and Vortigern, all became numbered among historical personages; and from heroes of respective epic poems sunk down into kings and warriors, who lived and fought and died upon the soil of England.
We are ignorant what fasti or mode even of reckoning the revolutions of seasons prevailed in England, previous to the introduction of Christianity. We know not how any event before the year 600 was recorded, or to what period the memory of man extended. There may have been rare annals: there may have been poems: if such there were they have perished, and have left no trace behind, unless we are to attribute to them such scanty notices as the Saxon chronicle adds to Beda’s account. From such sources however little could have been gained of accurate information either as to the real internal state, the domestic progress, or development of a people. The dry, bare entries of the chronicles in historical periods may supply the means of judging what sort of annals were likely to exist before the general introduction of the Roman alphabet and parchment, while, in all probability, runes supplied the place of letters, and stones, or the beech-wood from which their name is derived, of books. Again, the traditions embodied in the epic, are preeminently those of kings and princes: they are heroical, devoted to celebrate the divine or half-divine founders of a race, the fortunes of their warlike descendants, the manners and mode of life of military adventurers, not the obscure progress, household peace and orderly habits of the humble husbandman. They are full of feasts and fighting, shining arms and golden goblets: the gods mingle among men almost their equals, share in the same pursuits, are animated by the same passions of love, and jealousy and hatred; or, blending the divine with the mortal nature, become the founders of races, kingly because derived from divinity itself. But one race knows little of another or its traditions, and cares as little for them. Alliances or wars alone bring them in contact with one another; and the terms of intercourse between the races will for the most part determine the character under which foreign heroes shall be admitted into the national epos, or whether they shall be admitted at all. All history then, which is founded in any degree upon epical tradition (and national history is usually more or less so founded) must be to that extent imperfect, if not inaccurate; only when corrected by the written references of contemporaneous authors, can we assign any certainty to its records[[49]].
Let us apply these observations to the early events of Saxon history: of Kent indeed we have the vague and uncertain notices which I have mentioned: even more vague and uncertain are those of Sussex and Wessex. Of the former, we learn that in the year 477, Ælli, with three sons, Cymen, Wlencing and Cissa, landed in Sussex; that in the year 485 they defeated the Welsh, and that in 491 they destroyed the population of Anderida[[50]]. Not another word is there about Sussex, before the arrival of Augustine, except a late assertion of the military preeminence of Ælli among the Saxon chieftains. The events of Wessex are somewhat better detailed; we learn that in 495 two nobles, Cerdic and Cyneríc, came to England, and landed at Cerdices ora, where on the same day they fought a battle: that in 501 they were followed by a noble named Port, who with his two sons Bieda and Mægla made a forcible landing at Portsmouth: and that in 508 they gained a great battle over a British king, whom they slew together with five thousand of his people. In 514 Stuff and Wihtgár, their nephews, brought them a reinforcement of three ships; in 519 they again defeated the Britons, and established the kingdom of Wessex. In 527 a new victory is recorded: in 530, the Isle of Wight was subdued and given to Wihtgár; and in 534, Cerdic died, and was succeeded by Cyneríc, who reigned twenty-six years[[51]]. In 544 Wihtgár died. A victory of Cyneríc in 552 and 556, and Ceawlin’s accession to the throne of Wessex are next recorded. Wars of the Westsaxon kings are noted in 568, 571, 577, 584. From 590 to 595 a king of that race named Ceól is mentioned: in 591 we learn the expulsion of Ceawlin from power: in 593 the deaths of Ceawlin, Cwichelm and Crida are mentioned, and in 597, the year of Augustine’s arrival, we learn that Ceólwulf ascended the throne of Wessex.
Meagre as these details are, they far exceed what is related of Northumberland, Essex or Eastanglia. In 547 we are told that Ida began to reign in the first of these kingdoms; and that he was succeeded in 560 by Ælli: that after a reign of thirty years[[52]], he died in 588 and was succeeded by Æðelríc, who again in 593 was succeeded by Æðelfrið. This is all we learn of Northumbria; of Mercia, Essex, Eastanglia, and the innumerable kingdoms that must have been comprised under these general appellations, we hear not a single word.
If this be all that we can now recover of events, a great number of which must have fallen within the lives of those to whom Augustine preached, what credit shall we give to the inconsistent accounts of earlier actions? How shall we supply the almost total want of information respecting the first settlements? What explanation have we to give of the alliance between Jutes, Angles and Saxons which preceded the invasions of England? What knowledge will these records supply of the real number and quality of the chieftains, the language and blood of the populations who gradually spread themselves from the Atlantic to the Frith of Forth; of the remains of Roman cultivation, or the amount of British power with which they had to contend? of the vicissitudes of good and evil fortune which visited the independent principalities, before they were swallowed up in the kingdoms of the heptarchy, or the extent of the influence which they retained after that event? On all these several points we are left entirely in the dark; and yet these are facts which it most imports us to know, if we would comprehend the growth of a society which endured for at least seven hundred years in England, and formed the foundation of that in which we live.
Lappenberg has devoted several pages of his elaborate history[[53]] to an investigation of the Kentish legends, with a view to demonstrate their traditional, that is unhistorical, character. He has shown that the best authorities are inconsistent with one another and with themselves, in assigning the period of Hengest’s arrival in England. Carefully comparing the dates of the leading events, as given from the soundest sources, he has proved beyond a doubt, that all these periods are calculated upon a mythical number 8, whose multiples recur in every year assigned. Thus the periods of twenty-four, sixteen, eight and particularly forty years meet us at every turn; and a somewhat similar tendency may, I think, be observed in the earlier dates of Westsaxon history cited in a preceding page. It is also very probable that the early genealogies of the various Anglosaxon kings were arranged in series of eight names, including always the great name of Wóden[[54]].