148apps.com BestAppEver: “Stanza has redefined how everyone thinks about reading on a mobile device.”
2008 Best Free App

Early Britain Anglo-Saxon Britain by Allen, Grant - CHAPTER XII.

(download Open eBook Format)

Early Britain Anglo-Saxon Britain

CHAPTER XII.

THE CON­SOL­IDA­TION OF THE KING­DOMS.

With the fi­nal tri­umph of Chris­tian­ity, all the for­ma­tive el­ements of An­glo-​Sax­on Britain are com­plete. We see it, a rough con­glom­er­ation of loose­ly-​ag­gre­gat­ed prin­ci­pal­ities, com­posed of a fight­ing aris­toc­ra­cy and a body of un­val­ued serfs; while in­ter­spersed through its parts are the bish­ops, monks, and cler­gy, cen­tres of nascent civil­isa­tion for the seething mass of no­ble bar­barism. The coun­try is di­vid­ed in­to agri­cul­tur­al colonies, and its on­ly in­dus­try is agri­cul­ture, its on­ly wealth, land. We want but one more con­spic­uous change to make it in­to the Eng­land of the Au­gus­tan An­glo-​Sax­on age–the reign of Eadgar–and that one change is the con­sol­ida­tion of the dis­cor­dant king­doms un­der a sin­gle loose over-​lord­ship. To un­der­stand this fi­nal step, we must glance briefly at the dull record of the po­lit­ical his­to­ry.

Un­der Æthel­frith, Ead­wine, and Os­wiu, Northum­bria had been the chief pow­er in Eng­land. But the eighth cen­tu­ry is tak­en up with the great­ness of Mer­cia. Ecgfrith, the last great king of Northum­bria, whose over-​lord­ship ex­tend­ed over the Picts of Gal­loway and the Cum­bri­ans of Strath­clyde, en­deav­oured to car­ry his con­quests be­yond the Forth, and an­nex the free land ly­ing to the north of the old Ro­man line. He was de­feat­ed and slain, and with him fell the suprema­cy of Northum­bria. Mer­cia, which al­ready, un­der Pen­da and Wulfhere, had risen to the sec­ond place, now as­sumed the first po­si­tion among the Teu­ton­ic king­doms. Un­for­tu­nate­ly we know lit­tle of the pe­ri­od of Mer­cian suprema­cy. The West Sax­on chron­icle con­tains few no­tices of the ri­val state, and we are thrown for in­for­ma­tion chiefly on the sec­ond-​hand Latin his­to­ri­ans of the twelfth cen­tu­ry. Æthel­bald, the first pow­er­ful Mer­cian king (716-755), “rav­aged the land of the Northum­bri­ans,” and made Wes­sex ac­knowl­edge his suprema­cy. By this time all the mi­nor king­doms had prac­ti­cal­ly be­come sub­ject to the three great pow­ers, though still re­tain­ing their na­tive princes: and Wes­sex, Mer­cia, and Northum­bria shared be­tween them, as suzerains, the whole of Teu­ton­ic Britain. The mea­gre an­nals of the Chron­icle, up­on which alone (with the Char­ters and Latin writ­ers of lat­er date) we rest af­ter the death of Bæ­da, show us a chaot­ic list of wars and bat­tles be­tween these three great pow­ers them­selves, or be­tween them and their vas­sals, or with the Welsh and De­vo­ni­ans. Æthel­bald was suc­ceed­ed, af­ter a short in­ter­val, by Of­fa, whose reign of near­ly forty years (758-796), is the first set­tled pe­ri­od in En­glish his­to­ry. Of­fa ruled over the sub­ject princes with rigour, and seems to have made his pow­er re­al­ly felt. He drove the Prince of Powys from Shrews­bury, and car­ried his rav­ages in­to the heart of Wales. He con­quered the land be­tween the Sev­ern and the Wye, and his dyke from the Dee to the Sev­ern, and the Wye, marked the new lim­its of the Welsh and En­glish bor­ders; while his laws cod­ified the cus­toms of Mer­cia, as those of Æthel­ber­ht and Ine had done with the cus­toms of Kent and Wes­sex. He set up for awhile an arch­bish­opric at Lich­field, which seems to mark his de­ter­mi­na­tion to erect Mer­cia in­to a sovereign pow­er. He al­so found­ed the great monastery of St. Al­ban's, and is said to have es­tab­lished the En­glish col­lege at Rome, though an­oth­er ac­count at­tributes it to Ine, the West Sax­on. East An­glia, Kent, Es­sex, and Sus­sex all ac­knowl­edged his suprema­cy. Karl the Great was then re­viv­ing the Ro­man Em­pire in its Ger­man­ic form, and Of­fa ven­tured to cor­re­spond with the Frank em­per­or as an equal. The pos­ses­sion of Lon­don, now a Mer­cian city, gave Of­fa an in­ter­est in con­ti­nen­tal af­fairs; and the growth of trade is marked by the fact that when a quar­rel arose be­tween them, they for­mal­ly closed the ports of their re­spec­tive king­doms against each oth­er's sub­jects.

Nev­er­the­less, En­glish king­ship still re­mained a mere mil­itary of­fice, and con­sol­ida­tion, in our mod­ern sense, was clear­ly im­pos­si­ble. Lo­cal jeal­ousies di­vid­ed all the lit­tle king­doms and their com­po­nent prin­ci­pal­ities; and any re­al sub­or­di­na­tion was im­prac­ti­ca­ble amongst a pure­ly agri­cul­tur­al and war­like peo­ple, with no reg­ular army, and gov­erned on­ly by their own an­ar­chic de­sires. Like the Afghans of the present time, the ear­ly En­glish were in­ca­pable of union, ex­cept in a tem­po­rary way un­der the strong hand of a sin­gle war­like lead­er against a com­mon foe. As soon as that was re­moved, they fell asun­der at once in­to their orig­inal sep­arate­ness. Hence the chaot­ic na­ture of our ear­ly an­nals, in which it is im­pos­si­ble to dis­cov­er any re­al or­der un­der­ly­ing the per­pet­ual flux of states and princes.

A sin­gle sto­ry from the Chron­icle will suf­fi­cient­ly il­lus­trate the type of men whose ac­tions make up the his­to­ry of these preda­to­ry times. In 754, King Cuthred of the West Sax­ons died. His kins­man, Sige­ber­ht, suc­ceed­ed him. One year lat­er, how­ev­er, Cynewulf and the wi­tan de­prived Sige­ber­ht of his king­dom, mak­ing over to him on­ly the pet­ty prin­ci­pal­ity of Hamp­shire, while Cynewulf him­self reigned in his stead. Af­ter a time Sige­ber­ht mur­dered an eal­dor­man of his suite named Cym­bra; where­upon Cynewulf de­prived him of his re­main­ing ter­ri­to­ry and drove him forth in­to the for­est of the Weald. There he lived a wild life till a herds­man met him in the for­est and stabbed him, to avenge the death of his mas­ter, Cym­bra. Cynewulf, in turn, af­ter spend­ing his days in fight­ing the Welsh, lost his life in a quar­rel with Cyne­heard, broth­er of the out­lawed Sige­ber­ht. He had en­deav­oured to drive out the ætheling; but Cyne­heard sur­prised him at Mer­ton, and slew him with all his theg­ns, ex­cept one Welsh hostage. Next day, the king's friends, head­ed by the eal­dor­man Os­ric, fell up­on the ætheling, and killed him with all his fol­low­ers. In the very same year, Æthel­bald of Mer­cia was killed fight­ing at Seck­ing­ton; and Of­fa drove out his suc­ces­sor, Be­ornred. Of such mur­ders, wars, sur­pris­es, and dy­nas­tic quar­rels, the his­to­ry of the eighth cen­tu­ry is full. But no mod­ern read­er need know more of them than the fact that they ex­ist­ed, and that they prove the whol­ly un­governed and un­govern­able na­ture of the ear­ly En­glish tem­per.

Un­til the Dan­ish in­va­sions of the ninth cen­tu­ry, the trib­al king­doms still re­mained prac­ti­cal­ly sep­arate, and such co­he­sion as ex­ist­ed was on­ly se­cured for the pur­pose of tem­po­rary de­fence or ag­gres­sion. Es­sex kept its own kings un­der Æthel­ber­ht of Kent; Huic­cia re­tained its roy­al house un­der Æthelred of Mer­cia; and lat­er on, Mer­cia it­self had its eal­dor­men, af­ter the con­quest by Ecg­ber­ht of Wes­sex. Each roy­al line reigned un­der the supreme pow­er un­til it died out nat­ural­ly, like our own great feuda­to­ries in In­dia at the present day. “When Wes­sex and Mer­cia have worked their way to the ri­val hege­monies,” says Canon Stubbs, “Sus­sex and Es­sex do not cease to be num­bered among the king­doms, un­til their roy­al hous­es are ex­tinct. When Wes­sex has con­quered Mer­cia and brought Northum­bria on its knees, there are still kings in both Northum­bria and Mer­cia. The roy­al house of Kent dies out, but the ti­tle of King of Kent is be­stowed on an ætheling, first of the Mer­cian, then of the West Sax­on house. Un­til the Dan­ish con­quest, the de­pen­dant roy­al­ties seem to have been spared; and even af­ter­wards or­gan­ic union can scarce­ly be said to ex­ist.”

The fi­nal suprema­cy of the West Sax­ons was main­ly brought about by the Dan­ish in­va­sion. But the man who laid the foun­da­tion of the West Sax­on pow­er was Ecg­ber­ht, the so-​called first king of all Eng­land. Ban­ished from Wes­sex dur­ing his youth by one of the con­stant dy­nas­tic quar­rels, through the en­mi­ty of Of­fa, the young ætheling had tak­en refuge with Karl the Great, at the court of Aachen, and there had learnt to un­der­stand the ris­ing states­man­ship of the Frank­ish race and of the re­stored Ro­man em­pire. The death of his en­emy Be­orhtric, in 802, left the king­dom open to him: but the very day of his ac­ces­sion showed him the char­ac­ter of the peo­ple whom he had come to rule. The men of Worces­ter cel­ebrat­ed his ar­rival by a raid on the men of Wilts. “On that ilk day,” says the Chron­icle, “rode Æthel­hund, eal­dor­man of the Huic­cias [who were Mer­cians], over at Cynemæres ford; and there Weohstan the eal­dor­man met him with the Wilts men [who were West Sax­ons:] and there was a muck­le fight, and both eal­dor­men were slain, and the Wilts men won the day.” For twen­ty years, Ecg­ber­ht was en­gaged in con­sol­idat­ing his an­ces­tral do­min­ions: but at the end of that time, he found him­self able to at­tack the Mer­cians, who had lost Of­fa six years be­fore Ecg­ber­ht's re­turn. In 825, the West Sax­ons met the Mer­cian host at El­lan­dun, “and Ecg­ber­ht gained the day, and there was muck­le slaugh­ter.” There­fore all the Sax­on name, held trib­utary by the Mer­cians, gath­ered about the Sax­on cham­pi­on. “The Ken­tish folk, and they of Sur­rey, and the South Sax­ons, and the East Sax­ons turned to him.” In the same year, the East An­glians, anx­ious to avoid the pow­er of Mer­cia, “sought Ecg­ber­ht for peace and for aid.” Be­orn­wulf, the Mer­cian king, marched against his re­volt­ed trib­utaries: but the East An­glians fought him stout­ly, and slew him and his suc­ces­sor in two bat­tles. Ecg­ber­ht fol­lowed up this step by an­nex­ing Mer­cia in 829: af­ter which he marched north­ward against the Northum­bri­ans, who at once “of­fered him obe­di­ence and peace; and they there­upon part­ed.” One year lat­er, Ecg­ber­ht led an army against the north­ern Welsh, and “re­duced them to hum­ble obe­di­ence.” Thus the West Sax­on king­dom ab­sorbed all the oth­ers, at least so far as a loose over-​lord­ship was con­cerned. Ecg­ber­ht had ri­valled his mas­ter Karl by found­ing, af­ter a fash­ion, the em­pire of the En­glish. But all the lo­cal jeal­ousies smoul­dered on as fierce­ly as ev­er, the un­der-​kings re­tained their sev­er­al do­min­ions, and Ecg­ber­ht's suprema­cy was mere­ly one of su­pe­ri­or force, un­con­nect­ed with any re­al or­gan­ic uni­ty of the king­dom as a whole. Ecg­ber­ht him­self gen­er­al­ly bore the ti­tle of King of the West Sax­ons, like his an­ces­tors: and though in deal­ing with his An­glian sub­jects he styled him­self Rex An­glo­rum, that ti­tle per­haps means lit­tle more than the hum­bler one of Rex Gewis­so­rum, which he used in ad­dress­ing his peo­ple of the less­er prin­ci­pal­ity. The re­al king­dom of the En­glish nev­er ex­ist­ed be­fore the days of Ead­ward the El­der, and scarce­ly be­fore the days of William the Nor­man and Hen­ry the Angevin. As to the king­dom of Eng­land, that was a far lat­er in­ven­tion of the feu­dal lawyers.