I cannot resist the temptation of saying a few words about the
Anglo-Saxon occupation of Britain, which, as it virtually converted us
from Kelts into Teutons, is not a digression.
From the time of Julius Caesar the island of Britain had been occupied
by the Romans, and in consequence had become partly civilized and
Christianized. Upon the fall of the empire, the Roman legions were
withdrawn, and the people, left defenceless, became the prey of their
own northern barbarians, the Picts and Scots; the drama of Southern
Europe and the Goths being reenacted on a diminished scale. In the
fourth century the Britons implored the Angles and Saxons to come and
protect them from these savages. Invited as allies, they came as
invaders, and remained as conquerors, implanting their habits, speech,
and paganism upon the prostrate island. It was the extermination of
this exotic paganism which impelled to those deeds of valor recited in
the Round Table romances, and which made King Arthur and his knights
the theme of poet and minstrel for centuries.
But the Saxon had come to stay, and Teuton and Kelt became merged, much
as do the lion and lamb, after the former has dined! The Teutonic
Saxon may be said to have dined on the Keltic Briton, and remained
master of the island until the Normans came, six centuries later, and
in turn dominated, and made him bear the yoke of servitude.
Nor was this French-speaking Norman, French at all, except by adoption;
being, in fact, the terrible Northman of two centuries before, on
account of whose ravages the noble had entrenched himself in his strong
castle, and the wretched serf had in mortal terror sold himself and all
that he possessed, for the protection of its solid walls and moat; and
thus had been laid the foundations of feudalism. He it was who, with
long hair reeking with rancid oil, battle-axe, spear, and iron
hook--with which to capture human and other prey--had held France in a
state of unspeakable terror for centuries, but who had finally settled
down as respectable French citizen in the sea-board province of
Normandy, and in two centuries had made such wonderful improvement in
manners, apparel, and speech, that the simple Saxon baron stood abashed
before the splendid refinements of his conquerors.
The origin of this mysterious Northman is unknown; but whatever it was,
or whoever he was, he certainly possessed Aryan germs of high potency.
So the Saxon had built the solid walls of the racial structure upon a
foundation of Britons; and, though with no thought for beauty, had
built well, with strong, true structural lines. It was the Norman who
finished and decorated the structure, but he did not alter one of these
lines; the speech, traits, institutions, and habits of England being at
the core Saxon to-day, while there is a decorative surface only of
Norman.
So when the Englishman calls himself with swelling pride, a Briton, he
speaks wide of the mark. The Keltic Briton was buried fathoms deep
under seven centuries of Saxon rule, and then, to make the extinction
more complete, was overlaid with this brilliant lacquer of Norman
surface. And if that mixed product, the English people, have any race
paternity, it is Teutonic, and herein may lie the impossibility of
making the English and Irish a homogeneous people--the English Teuton
and Irish Kelt being in the nature of things antagonistic, the
particles refuse to combine chemically, and can only be brought
together (to use the language of the chemist) in mechanical mixture.