BRITAIN AFTER THE ROMAN PERIOD.
"What, though those golden eagles of the sun
Have gone for ever, and we are alone,
Shall we sit here and mourn? No! look around,
There still are in the sky trails of their glory,
And in the clouds traces where they have been.--
Their wings no longer shadow us with fear.
Let us then soar, and from this grovelling state
Rise up, and be what they have never been."
ODE TO HOPE.
Britain, after the departure of the Romans, was no longer a country
covered every way with wild waving woods, dangerous bogs, and vast
wastes of reedy and unprofitable marshes. Smooth green pastures, where
flocks and herds lowed and bleated, and long slips of corn waved in the
summer sunshine, and fruit-trees which in spring were hung with white
and crimson blossoms, and whose branches in autumn bowed beneath the
weight of heavy fruitage, now swelled above the swampy waste, and gave
a cheerful look to the grassy glade which had made room for the bright
sunshine to enter into the very heart of those gloomy old forests.
Walled towns, also, heaved up above the landscape, and great broad
brown roads went stretching for miles through a country over which,
a few centuries before, a mounted horseman would have foundered. The
dreamy silence which once reigned for weary miles over the lonesome
woodland, was now broken by the hum of human voices; and the ancient
oaks, which for many a silent year had only over-shadowed the lairs
of beasts of the chase, now overhung pleasant footpaths, or stretched
along the sides of well-frequented roads, sure guides to the lonely
wayfarer that he could no longer mistake his course from town to town.
Though many a broad bog, and long league of wood and wilderness still
lay on either hand, yet, every here and there, the home of man rose
up amid the waste, showing that the stir of life had begun to break
the sleep of those solitudes. Instead of the shadowy avenue of trees
which marked the entrance to their forest fortresses, lofty arches now
spanned the roads which opened into their walled streets, and above
the roofs of their houses tall temples towered in all the richness
of Roman architecture, dedicated to the classical gods and goddesses
whose sculptured forms graced the lofty domes of the imperial city.
Few and far between, in the dim groves, whose silent shadows remained
undisturbed, the tall grass climbed and drooped about the neglected
altar of the druids, and on the huge stone where the holy fire once
burned, the grey lichen and the green moss now grew. Even the Roman
sentinel, as he paced to and fro behind the lofty battlement, sometimes
halted in the midst of his measured march, and leaned on his spear to
listen to the low "Hallelujah" which came floating with faint sound
upon the air, as if fearful of awakening the spirit of some angry
idolator. In the stars which pave the blue floor of heaven, men began
to trace the form of the cross, and to see the spirit of the dove in
the white moonlight that threw its silver upon the face of the waters,
for Britain already numbered amongst her slaughtered sons those who had
suffered martrydom for the love they bore to their crucified Redeemer.
Under the shadow of the Roman eagles had marched soldiers, proud that
they bore on their hearts the image of the cross of Christ. In spite
of the decree of Diocletian, the Gospel sound still spread, and around
the bleeding head of the British martyr St. Alban, there shone a glory
which eclipsed all the ancient splendour of Rome. The mountains, the
rivers, and the ancient oaks, were soon to echo back the worship of
the true God, and no longer to remain the objects of idolatry. The
unholy doctrine of the druids was ere long to be unmasked, and instead
of the gloomy gods which frowned down in stone amid the darksome
groves, and whose dead eyes ever looked upon the melancholy water that
murmured around the altars on which they stood, the light of a benign
countenance was about to break in beauty over the British isle, and a
voice to be heard, proclaiming peace and good-will to all mankind. For
the Picts and Scots had already fallen back affrighted before the holy
Hymns of Zion, and been more startled by the loud Hallelujah chaunted
by the soldiers of Christ, who were led on by Germanus, than ever
they were by the loud braying of the brazen trumpets of Rome. British
ladies, ever foremost to tread the paths of religion and virtue, had
boldly heralded the way, and in spite of the lowering and forbidding
looks of the druids, Græcina and Claudia had already knelt before the
throne of the True God. Though the vanguard came heavily up amid cloud
and storm, Hope, and Love, and Mercy, rode fearlessly upon the wings of
the tempest.
It is but just to the memory of those ancient Roman invaders, that we
should confess they never reduced to slavery and total subjection the
tribes which they conquered; that, generally, in return for the taxes
they imposed, and the expense to which they put the invaded country,
they instructed the inhabitants in the Roman arts--and although they
humbled their martial spirit, and left the conquered tribes less able
to defend themselves, still the signs of civilization everywhere
marked their course. Beside being brave generals, the Roman commanders
were also able statesmen; nor had the Britons for centuries before,
nor did they for centuries after, sleep in that peaceful security
which they enjoyed under the sway of the wise Agricola. Though the
conquerors taxed their corn, they taught the Britons a better method
of cultivating it; though they made heavy levies upon their cattle,
they were the first to set them the example of reclaiming many an
acre of pasturage from the hitherto useless marsh and forest. They
instructed them in planting the fruit-trees, from which the tithe was
taken; and, in addition to orchards, pointed out to them the art of
dressing vineyards. Fifteen hundred years or more may have chilled our
climate, but in those days the purple and bunchy grape drooped around
many a British homestead. The chief towns were governed by Roman laws;
London and Verulamium were already celebrated cities, and the latter
reared high its lofty towers, and temples, and theatres, in all the
architectural grandeur of Roman art. For centuries after did many of
these majestic monuments remain, even when the skeleton of the once
mighty Rome had all but crumbled into dust, as if to proclaim that
the last work of those all-dreaded conquerors was the civilization
of Britain. They divided our island into five provinces, appointed
governors and officers to administer justice, and collect taxes in each
division. Over all these a chief ruler was placed, who was accountable
for his actions to the Roman emperor, and whose written orders were
given to him in a green-covered book, emblazoned with golden castles,
when he was installed in the dignity of his office--as, in almost
all colonies, there were doubtless many who, "clothed in authority,"
ruled with an iron hand over their fellow-men; not that such always
escaped--for, as we have before stated, the revolt of Boadicea was
caused by the oppression of Roman rulers, and dreadful was the
reckoning of her vengeance.
We have already had occasion to remark how easily the Romans broke
through the ancient British fortresses, and how frequently the Picts
and Scots made inroads through the ramparts erected by the Romans.
Saving, however, in such works as appear to have been hastily thrown
up by the Britons, when they retreated into their native forests, they
displayed considerable skill in the erection of their strongholds. They
occasionally constructed high walls, with blocks of granite five or six
feet long, and these they piled together without the aid of cement,
digging a deep ditch outside, to make access more difficult; and as
this fortress was built in the form of a circle, and the wall was of
sufficient thickness to permit half a dozen men to walk on it abreast,
it must, although not of such extent, have been as difficult to storm
as the barriers thrown up by the Romans. The huge stone, supposed to
weigh upwards of seven hundred tons, which is placed on the points of
two rocks in Cornwall, and the massy blocks raised and piled on each
other at Stonehenge, show that, ages before the Roman invasion, Britain
was inhabited by a tribe whose knowledge of the power of leverage, and
skill in removing such gigantic blocks from the distant quarries, were
only surpassed by the builders of the Egyptian Pyramids. No wonder that
a race possessed of such natural genius was, under tuition of the Roman
architects, enabled to produce such a class of workmen, that a demand
was made for them even in Gaul, and that the skill of the British
mechanic was in that early age acknowledged on the continent. Industry
led to wealth, and the latter to luxuries to which the simple Britons
had, before the Roman period, been entire strangers; instead of the
cloak of skin, and the dyed sagum, those who dwelt in towns now wore
the Roman toga, and the British ladies began to decorate themselves
with jewels of gold, silver, and precious stones, instead of their own
island pearls, once so celebrated as to cause even a grave historian
to attribute the invasion of Julius Cæsar to no other motive than a
wish to fill his galley with them. They now wore bracelets and collars
of gold, and amongst the imports to Britain, we find mention of ivory
bridles, chains of gold, cups of amber, and drinking-vessels of glass,
made in the most elegant forms. A great change had taken place in the
habits of these ancient in-dwellers of the forest, whose eyes in former
days had seldom been gladdened by a sight of such treasures, unless
when brought, now and then, by some warrior from the Gaulish wars, to
be looked on and wondered at, or caught sight of for a moment amongst
the coveted hoards of the druids. We have it on record, that the waist
of queen Boadicea was encircled by a chain, or girdle of gold; and
shortly after we have proof that nearly the whole of the British tribes
were in subjection under the Roman power--clear evidence that wealth,
refinement, and civilization had softened down the rugged and hardy
sinews of war--that the old warriors of the wild woods were better
adapted for the struggles of battle than their sons who had put on the
Roman toga, and reared their homes within the limits of walled cities.
As it was with the Britons, so it was with the Saxons--they also became
less courageous, as they grew more civilized. And here a grave question
naturally intrudes itself into our narrative, which to answer aright
must either yield in favour of a state of barbarism, or pull down that
great idol called a hero--though there are many exceptions on record
to uphold the latter, some of which we have already instanced, as in
Cassivellaunus and Caractacus.
It is apparent that the more southern inhabitants of the British
island had by this time adopted the Roman custom of interring their
dead. Formerly the northern tribes did but little more than place the
body in the naked earth, cover it up, and mark the spot by a pile
of stones; and that rude monument was left to point out the last
resting-place of the departed. The more southern tribes erected huge
barrows above their dead, burying with them all that was considered
most valuable, articles of gold and silver, weapons used in the war
and in the chase, and even the body of the favourite dog, when he
died, was not considered unworthy of sharing his master's grave.
Many of these mounds of earth were immense, and in several cases it
is clear that the soil which formed them had been brought from a
considerable distance, perhaps from the very spot which had been marked
by the valorous though now forgotten deeds of the dead. These ancient
sepulchres varied greatly in size and shape. Those which appear to have
contained the remains of the earlier inhabitants of our island, were
frequently above a hundred yards in length; and if, as it has been
supposed, each follower brought his wicker basket of earth to empty
upon the chieftain's grave, or the high-piled hillock was the work
of the friends of the departed, though so many long centuries have
elapsed, they yet speak of the respect in which those early warriors
were held. Sometimes the body was placed in a cist, with the legs drawn
back towards the head, and this position of burying seems to have been
adopted at a very remote period by the Britons. Sometimes the trunk of
a large tree was cut up into a proportionate length, hewn hollow, and
the body placed within it. This again appears to have been a custom of
very ancient date. They were also in the habit of burning the bodies of
the dead--of collecting the burnt bones and placing them in the lowest
bed of the barrow, then piling the stupendous mound above the ashes.
Those tribes that became more Romanised appear to have followed the
custom of their conquerors of burning the bodies, and collecting the
ashes in urns; many of these have been discovered in what are called
the Roman-British barrows, which display but indifferent workmanship.
Others which have been dug out of old Roman burying-places show much
elegance both in their forms and ornaments. With these have also been
found mingled incense and drinking cups of the most beautiful patterns.
The Britons appear to have had no common grave-yard; one barrow seems
to have covered the remains of a chief, another that of his wife and
children; perchance those who fell in the same battle were sometimes
interred together, or it may be that the lesser hillocks covered the
remains of the vassals, hemming around the huge barrow under which the
chieftain slept, as if to protect him even in death--a silent guard
surrounding his remains, as when living they had rallied about him.
What were the forms of their solemn processions--what ceremonies they
used while burying their dead--what heathen prayers they offered up to
their rude gods, or what war-hymns they chaunted over the remains of
their chiefs, we know not. The snows of nearly two thousand winters
have fallen, whitened, and melted upon, their graves, but whether the
latter were interred amid the deep war-cry of the tribe, or consigned
to the earth amid tears and sorrowful sounds, we can never know. The
glass beads, the amulets, and breastplates of gold--the spear-heads
of bronze and flint, the rude necklaces of shells, and the pins and
ornaments which we have discovered, throw no light upon the name, rank,
or history of the dead.
The barbarous custom of painting or tatooing their skins soon grew into
disfavour as the Britons became civilized. They began to find other
uses for the dye which they extracted from the herb called woad, and
instead of distinguishing themselves by the hideous forms of beasts
or reptiles which they were wont to puncture and imprint upon their
bodies, they now bore the marks of their rank in the form of their
costume, and sought for their renown in the plaudits of other men. They
began to look for their leaders amongst the ancient families, and to
trace back their genealogies to their earliest heroes. This ended all
Roman claims, for they refused to grant any land to such as had not
descended from the primitive tribes; it led also to much dissension,
to many heart-burnings and bitter jealousies; family was divided
against family, and tribe against tribe; petty kings sprang up in every
province; there was much blood shed--more to be spilt; and as Vortigern
alone had maintained his claim, he was determined to support his
position at any sacrifice. Whether Hengist and Horsa came on a mission
of peace, or as traders or pirates, or were driven by a storm upon the
coast, or were exiled from their country, are matters of no moment.
They were hired--their business was to fight--they were paid for doing
so--they accepted the terms offered by the British king, acquitted
themselves manfully, and finally were the means of establishing the
Saxons in Britain. To the commencement of this period we have now
arrived, and the next who pass through the gate of history are our old
English forefathers, the Saxons.
=The Saxon Invasion.=