I. Through the Norman Conquest[4]
I have just finished reading “A Centurion of the Thirtieth,” “On the Great Wall,” and “The Winged Hats”—all from Kipling’s “Puck of Pook’s Hill” and I now feel in the proper frame of mind to begin the year’s work in English History. By the proper frame of mind I mean that what I know, and what I would fain have my class know, is illuminated and enlivened by a sense of reality without which my teaching and their learning would be as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals. The fundamental importance of beginning with this “proper frame of mind” is the first matter which I wish to emphasize, the starting point of the many matters which we may profitably consider together in our monthly discussions. For ponder the magnitude of the task before us, as we return from our vacation in this very modern world of ours to our very modern pupils. How shall we be true interpreters of the life of an early day, so remote, so utterly removed, so unreal, unless we can by some magic touch invest it all with reality? It is a solemn thing, fellow workmen in this noble field of English history, to think how many thousands of us shall endeavor, during the next few weeks, to impart some knowledge, some realizing sense of prehistoric man’s dwelling in the so different Albion which was the mother of England; of Celt and Roman and Saxon and Dane; of imperial Cæsar landing on the unknown barbarous coast of Britain; of Druids and of monks; and so on through those long, mysterious thousand years which bring us to a somewhat clearer day (though still remote enough for every exercise of the imagination!), when the great Duke became the last conqueror of the little island. A solemn thing, I say, for if we fail to illumine this mass of material with any ray of the imagination, if we merely cram facts and theories into the miserable minds of our victims until they are stuffed with names and dates, then are we become blind leaders of the blind of whom it may be said, as I once heard it said of a professor in one of our great colleges, “Think of the hundreds for whom he has ruined history.”
So I believe, in all seriousness, it shall profit us more to take down our Kipling or to cull out some of the very human episodes from our Green, or from Dr. Warren’s little book of selections, and to saturate our minds therein—insulating them, as it were, from the quick currents of the present—than to refresh our memories laboriously and conscientiously from sources and authorities until we are merely primed with facts. Need I say that this is no slur nor sneer at authorities and sources? Of course we have not neglected these—we must not, and we shall not, neglect them. My emphasis is simply on what is, too often neglected; my plea is for setting free the imagination, for letting the “magic” work which will help us to clothe the dry bones of fact with the flesh of life! We have all been taught to be conscientious and faithful and painstaking; that is the modern historian’s creed. But all conscience and no imagination make a mighty dull teacher! Let us never forget that.
Sincerity and Frankness Indispensable.
If the imagination needs all the arousing and vivifying it can get in dealing with the early Britons and Romans of whom we receive vivid impressions in “Puck of Pook’s Hill,” how much more must it cry for help in beginning, as most text-books of English history do, with primitive man! I must confess I dread those opening lessons which deal with the origins of things. “Paleolithic, neolithic, metal age”—how glibly the names may be reeled off, but what do we really know about them, and who are we to try to penetrate the seclusion of those unfathomed ages! I confess my imagination gropes blindly here, and I must simply admit that I am baffled, that here I can summon up very little sense of reality. This should be made clear enough to the class—both that our sources of knowledge are limited, and that the “backward and abysm” of time baffles the staunchest traveler to the far past. Our pupils will value our sincerity from the outset if we make it plain that there is no humbug about us, that we are not pretending to a knowledge which their quick intelligence tells them must in the nature of things be very limited. Don’t let us be too “cock sure” about anything—still less about prehistoric times. For be sure the youthful mind, if it is worth anything, asks itself how “they” know so much when by our own admission there are no written records. You will permanently undermine confidence if you make a false start here. So it appears to me that all the period before the Romans came should be clothed in a haze of mystery, a few looming facts in the gloom, but nothing too clear cut or definite. So, too, throughout the course, let us be frank in acknowledging the many uncertainties which beset us, so setting an invaluable example of sincerity, and unconsciously inducing a spirit of honesty in the attitude of our pupils toward history.
As to Dates and Discipline.
With the landing of Julius Cæsar the fog begins to lift, and certain clear headlands of knowledge appear. This may be brought out very sharply by reading to the class, or getting the class to read to you, an extract or two from “De Bello Gallico,” say Chapter 8 of Book V, or a chapter from the end of Book IV. This brings home to the class the “barbarianness” of the Britons in contrast with civilized Rome, and incidentally gives the average pupil a new and almost startling view of “Cæsar”! This done, the next task is to prevent the class from unanimously jumping at the conclusion that Cæsar began the Roman conquest. The only thing to do is to hammer in the four conquests or invasions with their dates as landmarks, and to try heroically to get straight the difference between Celt and Roman and Teuton. No imagination here, but the sterner side of the year’s work—the absolute definite learning by rote of the essential dates and facts which must in no wise be slurred or passed by. I do not believe history to be a “disciplinary study,” but there is plenty of discipline in it, as there is in all substantial work, and the boy or girl who has, perhaps, had only some smatterings of elementary history before, might as well realize in the beginning that entering this large field of English history means, not only large opportunities for the imagination and for abounding intellectual interest, but means also real work for the memory and for the understanding. How to bring this about against the inertia, inaccuracy, and inefficiency of the class? There is no royal road—patience, reiteration, insistence on accuracy, and finally, where necessary, the rod, or whatever substitute our American delicacy along punitive lines allows, are the only methods open to us. A good means of reiteration in the matter of dates is to have one pupil put a set of dates on the board each day—for example, the dates of the invasions (marking the approximate dates with a plus or minus sign), and of such landmarks as the Landing of Augustine, the Treaty of Wedmore, etc., may well be put on the board every day while the class is studying the period before the Normans. The same thing may well be done during each dynasty, keeping the dates of that dynasty before the class without spending much time on them. The recitation of the class should not, of course, be halted while the dates are being written; a glance will serve to correct them when they are done.
Concerning Maps and Note Books.
A word in regard to map work and note books. The correlation of geography with history is, of course, indispensable. In certain places throughout our subject, which I shall point out from time to time, it is necessary that the geography of England and of Europe should be clearly in mind. During this early period these notable points are (1) the probable geographical conditions before “the channel” was cut; (2) the divisions of Great Britain and Ireland at the time of Roman occupation, showing the great walls and the Roman roads; (3) the Saxon period—the homes of the Saxons, and the Heptarchy; (4) the Danelaw and Alfred’s kingdom; (5) locations of battles and other points of historical interest (such as the “holy isle” of St. Columba, Wedmore, etc.) through 1066. I know no better way to make these five or more topics clear than by outline maps. In using outline maps, neatness and clearness are the two points to emphasize. Unless your text-book has good maps your pupils should get Gardiner’s “School Atlas of English History” (Longmans, Green & Co.).