[Sidenote: Finance.]
§ 84. That Alfred would be a careful and exact steward of all the
resources of his kingdom, we may assume without any proof. But, for
my own part, I wholly and entirely distrust the account which Asser
gives[596] of the minute and mathematical divisions and subdivisions of
revenue instituted by Alfred. I regard it as an indication that at this
point of his work Asser was attacked by an acute fit of imagination[597].
Dr. Stubbs has said that there is no point on which we are more in the
dark than on the financial system of the Anglo-Saxons[598]. We must also
remember that since so much of the revenue of an Anglo-Saxon king was
payable in kind, there was much less room for finance, in the strict
sense of the word, than in more modern states.
Of Alfred’s interest and skill in mechanical and artistic inventions
enough has perhaps been said already[599]. Under this head would come the
well-known story of the candles and the lantern shades[600]. I cannot
myself go into raptures over this, as some writers profess to do. But
the mention of tents[601] in connexion with this invention, may perhaps
indicate that it was specially during campaigns that the need of some
such contrivance would be felt. It is one of the many curious parallels
between things English and Frankish, that Pope Paul I sent to Pippin,
the father of Charles the Great, an instrument for showing the time at
night[602].
[Sidenote: Intercourse with other nations. Ireland. Irish love of
pilgrimage.]
§ 85. Of Alfred’s intercourse with foreign nations Asser[603] gives a
‘heightened and telling’ picture, speaking of ‘daily embassies of nations
who dwell from the Tyrrhene Sea to the furthest bound of Ireland.’ Of
relations of Alfred with the Irish princes[604] I have found no evidence.
But an interesting and pathetic instance of accidental intercourse
with Ireland is given in the Chronicle under 891: ‘In this year three
“Scots” (i.e. Irishmen) came to Alfred king, on a boat without oars or
rudder. They had stolen away from Ireland, because they would be for
God’s love on pilgrimage, they recked not where. The boat on which they
fared was wrought of two and a half hides, and they took with them meat
for a sevennight. And at the end of a sevennight they came to land in
Cornwall, and straightway fared to Alfred king. Thus were they named,
Dubslane, and Macbeth, and Maelinmain.’ The story is most genuine, and
redolent through and through of the spirit of Irish History and Saga.
The love of pilgrimage became a passion in the Irish Church[605]; the
Irish Sagas and the lives of the Irish Saints furnish many illustrations
of this desire for exile, this self-abandonment (as they deemed it) to
the will of God involved in committing themselves to the deep in a frail
skin-covered coracle without oarage or steerage, the slender provision of
food for the voyage. In the Book of Leinster is a story how three young
Irish clerics set out on a pilgrimage; ‘they took as provision on the sea
only three loaves. “In the name of Christ” (said they), “let us throw
our oars into the sea, and let us commend ourselves to our Lord.”’ So in
the voyage of Maelduin, the Irish Saga so well known to English readers
through Tennyson’s poem, Maelduin and his companions exclaim: ‘leave the
boat alone, and cease rowing; whither God wills it to be borne, He will
bear it[606].’ According to Ethelwerd[607], these ‘Scots’ after leaving
Alfred went on to Rome and Jerusalem; and if so, it may well be that this
was one of the channels whereby Alfred communicated with the East; for
we have seen[608] that Alfred’s intercourse with Elias III, patriarch of
Jerusalem, rests on very good evidence.
[Sidenote: A ninth century pilgrimage to Jerusalem.]
§ 86. It so happens that we have an account[609] of a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem, made just twenty-five years earlier, by a Frankish monk named
Bernard, who, with two companions, a Spanish and an Italian monk, set
out from Rome about the year 865 with the blessing of Pope Nicholas (c.
1). From Rome they went to Bari, then ‘a city of the Saracens,’ from the
‘sultan’ of which they obtained letters to the rulers of Alexandria
and Egyptian Babylon, i.e. Old Cairo (c. 3). From Bari they walked to
Taranto, where they found six ships proceeding to Alexandria with a cargo
of 9,000 Christian captives from Beneventum (c. 4). The admiral refused,
however, to let them land, until they had paid a ransom of six ‘aurei’
(c. 5). And when they presented the letters of the sultan of Bari to
the governour of Alexandria they helped them not a whit; and only on
paying thirteen ‘denarii’[610] apiece were they sent on by water with
letters to the governour of Cairo (c. 6). Here the same fate awaited
them. In spite of all their letters they were thrown into prison, but
on payment of another thirteen ‘denarii’ per head they were released,
and furnished with letters which did really prove effective, though
they had to get them sealed, or, as we should say, they had to have
their passports visaed in every town which they passed through, and this
meant ever fresh exactions (c. 7). From Cairo they turned north by the
Damietta branch of the Nile and proceeded by Tanis (c. 8) to Farama[611],
the traditional abode of the Holy Family, where they procured camels
on which they crossed the desert (c. 9) to El Arisch, and so by Gaza,
Ramleh, and Emmaus to Jerusalem, where the patriarch was Theodosius,
the immediate predecessor of Alfred’s correspondent, Elias III. Here
they lodged in the hospice founded for pilgrims by ‘the glorious Emperor
Charles,’ near which was the church of St. Mary with a noble library of
books, also given by Charles (c. 10). After visiting the holy places
(cc. 11-18), they returned all the way by sea, having an unfavourable
passage of sixty days to Mont’ Auro (c. 19), whence they returned to
Rome, ‘where innumerable bodies of the saints repose’ (c. 20). In some
ways, apparently, a pilgrimage to Rome was more dangerous than one to
Jerusalem. There is good peace, says the writer, between Christians and
pagans both in Egypt and Jerusalem, though they are very strict on all
travellers who have no passports (c. 22). In Romagna, on the other hand,
things were very bad, and brigands so numerous, that pilgrims had to go
in bands and fully armed (c. 23).
I have thought it worth while to give an outline of this most interesting
little tract, because it shows us the route taken, and the difficulties
encountered, by a pilgrim to Jerusalem in the reign of Alfred’s immediate
predecessor[612].
[Sidenote: Earliest recorded instance of intercourse between England and
India.]
But Alfred’s messengers went further East than Palestine. I have already
quoted the passage from the Chronicle which tells how in 883 Alfred sent
alms to India to St. Thomas and St. Bartholomew, in fulfilment of the vow
which he made ‘when they encamped against the Danes at London.’ On the
route taken by these messengers I can unfortunately throw no light. But
the entry is of transcendent interest. It is the first recorded instance
of a connexion between England and Hindustan, a connexion which has meant
so much to India and to England; for it is, I venture to think, to her
government of India that England largely owes the position in the world
which she holds to-day.
[Sidenote: Intercourse with Rome, and the Frankish empire.]
Of missions and alms sent to Rome by Alfred five instances[613] are
recorded in the Chronicle, and probably there were many others not
recorded, for the omission of a formal embassy seems to be noted as
exceptional[614].
Of intercourse with the Frankish empire we shall have some illustrations
when we come to speak of the foreign scholars imported by Alfred.
[Sidenote: Alfred’s need of trained subordinates.]
§ 87. But of all the objects which Alfred had in view the one probably
to which he attached most importance was, in the words of our University
bidding-prayer, ‘a succession of persons duly qualified for the
service of God in Church and State.’ In a passage in the Consolation
of Philosophy[615] Boethius says to his instructress: ‘Thou knowest
that ambition never was my mistress, though I did desire materials for
carrying out my task’; ‘which task,’ adds Alfred, in his own words[616],
‘was that I should virtuously and fittingly administer the authority
committed to me. Now no man … can … administer government, unless he have
fit tools and the raw material to work upon.… And a king’s raw material
and instruments of rule are a well-peopled land, and he must have men
of prayer, men of war, and men of work.… Without these tools he cannot
perform any of the tasks entrusted to him.’
[Sidenote: Court school.]
It was with a view to providing these necessary ‘tools,’ that Alfred
seems to have established, probably after the example of Charles the
Great[617], a Court school, for the education specially of the sons of
the upper classes, in which books of both languages, Latin and Saxon,
were read, especially the Psalms and Saxon poems, and writing also was
taught; and to these studies the pupils applied themselves, till they
were old enough to learn ‘hunting and other arts, befitting well-born
men.’
This account of Asser[618] agrees well with the wish expressed by Alfred
in the Preface to the Pastoral Care, ‘That all the freeborn youth of
England who have sufficient means to devote themselves thereto, be set to
learning so long as they are not strong enough for any other occupation,
until such time as they can well read English writing. Let those be
taught Latin whom it is proposed to educate further, and promote to
higher office.’ This passage is most interesting; but we must not, on
the strength of it, bring Alfred into court as an advocate either for or
against classical education. On the one hand Alfred clearly wished that
all who had the time and means should be taught Latin; on the other hand
Latin was then, as it is not now, the sole vehicle of Western culture and
science.
[Sidenote: Want of teachers supplied by Mercia, Wales, and the Frankish
empire. John the Old Saxon. Grimbald. Letter of Archbishop Fulk to
Alfred. Question of its genuineness.]
§ 88. But the great difficulty was to find teachers. Of England,
the part which had suffered least from the ravages of the Danes was
Western Mercia; moreover Offa had had a real desire to promote learning
in his kingdom, as Alcuin’s letters show[619]; and from Mercia came
Plegmund[620], whom Alfred ultimately made archbishop of Canterbury in
succession to Æthelred, Werferth, the faithful bishop of Worcester, and
two priests, Æthelstan and Werwulf, whom Alfred made his chaplains. The
fact that Asser applies to these two last the term ‘sacerdotes,’ which,
as I have elsewhere shown, is ambiguous in mediaeval Latin, sometimes
meaning bishops, sometimes priests[621], has led Roger of Wendover not
only to convert these priests into bishops, but to give them sees at
Hereford and Leicester[622]; another illustration of the way in which
myths arise. From Wales Alfred got Asser, as we have seen. But Britain
alone could not supply Alfred’s needs; and the Frankish empire was now
to repay to England some small portion of the debt which it owed for
Boniface and Alcuin, in the persons of Grimbald and John the Old Saxon.
Of the latter not much is known[623]. He was a monk of Corvey, and was
made by Alfred abbot of his new monastery of Athelney. The story of his
attempted murder there has been already alluded to[624]. The date of his
coming to England is not known. The chronology of Grimbald’s life is also
very obscure. Mabillon indeed was led to postulate two Grimbalds, who
both came to England under Alfred. But his perplexity was largely caused
by his acceptance of the Oxford interpolation in Asser as genuine; and
his solution is quite incredible. Grimbald was a monk of St. Bertin’s
in Flanders. He held various offices in that monastery, and in 892, on
the death of Abbot Rudolf, the monks wished him to become their abbot;
but with a view of protecting the monastery against the attacks of
Count Baldwin of Flanders, Fulk, archbishop of Rheims, who had been
abbot before Rudolf, was allowed to resume the abbacy, and hold it with
his archbishopric[625]. If all this is true, Grimbald cannot have come
to England much before 893, and as he is mentioned in the Preface to
the Pastoral Care as one of Alfred’s helpers in that work (along with
Plegmund, Asser, and John), it is obvious that this date for Grimbald’s
arrival in England, if it be regarded as established, will have a very
important bearing on the chronology of Alfred’s writings[626]. There
is a letter extant[627] which purports to be Fulk of Rheims’ answer to
Alfred’s application for Grimbald. Certainly, if Fulk was holding the
abbacy of St. Bertin’s at this time, he would be the natural person to
give permission to a monk of that house to leave his cloister[628],
and Dr. Stubbs thought that the MSS. in which the letter is found
were sufficiently ancient to exclude the suspicion of forgery. Its
authenticity has however been doubted[629], and I confess it presents one
very great difficulty to my mind. The letter throughout is written on the
assumption that Grimbald is to be a bishop in England; he is to be placed
over the care of pastoral rule, he is already a priest, and is worthy of
pontifical honour; if Alfred will send Grimbald’s electors and certain
leading men in Church and State, Fulk will then ordain him (i.e. as
bishop, for he was already priest), and they can escort him to his proper
see[630]. Alfred is represented as having stated in his application that,
owing to the ravages of the Danes, the lapse of time, the carelessness
of prelates, and the ignorance of the people, ecclesiastical order had
much decayed in England[631], which is true enough, whoever wrote it. But
there is no other evidence anywhere of any intention of making Grimbald a
bishop. Dean Hook’s idea[632] that Alfred intended to make him archbishop
of Canterbury, but finding the appointment of a foreigner unpopular,
substituted Plegmund, has not a scrap of evidence to support it; while
if Grimbald did not come to England till 893 the primacy had long been
filled up. Ultimately Grimbald was made abbot of the New Minster at
Winchester, where he died in 903, and became one of the tutelary saints
of that foundation, winning a place in the English Calendar[633]. The
tradition that Asser was one of the embassy sent to escort Grimbald to
England has been already alluded to[634].
[Sidenote: Alfred’s translations; their object.]
§ 89. But it was not only by educational institutions whether in
Court or monastery that Alfred endeavoured to raise the culture of
his people. The art of translation, which he had practised at first
for his own instruction and edification, he came afterwards to use in
order to place within reach of his people[635] the most useful works in
different branches of knowledge. The object which Alfred had in view
is clearly laid down in the oft-quoted Preface to the Pastoral Care.
After tracing the practical extinction of the knowledge of Latin south
of the Thames[636], which made all the knowledge contained in that
language inaccessible to a degree which would have seemed inconceivable
to previous generations, he continues: ‘therefore it seems to me best, if
you agree[637], that we should translate some books, those namely which
are most necessary for all men to know, into the language which we all
understand.’
[Sidenote: Story how Alfred began to translate. The Handbook.]
§ 90. The story how Alfred first began to combine translation with
reading[638] is told in a well-known passage of Asser[639]. He relates
how one day, while the king and himself were reading and talking
together, Alfred was much struck by a passage in the work which Asser was
reading to him, and begged him to write it down for him in the little
book of psalms and prayers which he always carried about with him.
Asser suggested that it would be better to start a separate book for
such extracts, and went and fetched a quire of parchment, and in course
of time the book of translated extracts grew, until it reached nearly
the size of a Psalter. Alfred called it his Encheiridion, Manual, or
Handbook[640], because he always kept it close at hand. This according to
Asser took place in the year 887.
A great deal of unnecessary mystery has been made about this Handbook.
Asser’s account shows that it was simply what we should call a
commonplace book. In the course of years Alfred may have made more
than one such commonplace book. The one started at Asser’s suggestion
contained, according to him, ‘flosculi diuinae scripturae’; that is,
probably, extracts from the Bible and the Fathers. But other parts of
the volume, or, it may be, a later volume of the same kind, contained
historical jottings; for William of Malmesbury quotes Alfred’s
Handbook as an authority for the life of Aldhelm, citing Alfred’s high
appreciation of Aldhelm’s Saxon poems, and adding the beautiful tradition
how by his skill as a minstrel he would gather the people round him, and
gradually turn his song to sacred themes[641]. Florence of Worcester[642]
also cites a work which he calls ‘Dicta regis Ælfredi’ as an authority on
the West Saxon genealogy. Even if we reject the evidence of Malmesbury
and Florence as being so much later than Alfred’s time, it seems to me
quite impossible to identify a theological commonplace book, such as
Asser describes, with the translation of Augustine’s Soliloquies, as
Wülker was once inclined to do[643], partly on the ground that Asser
applies the term ‘flosculi’ to the Handbook, while the translation of
the Soliloquies bears the title ‘Blostman’ or Blooms. But the latter
work, however free in the way in which it deals with its original, is
very much more than a book of extracts. Besides, according to Asser, the
Encheiridion was the very first of Alfred’s works, whereas all critics
are agreed that the Soliloquies are among the last, probably the very
last of his works.
[Sidenote: The translation of Gregory’s Dialogues, attributed by Asser
to Werferth.]
§ 91. Besides the Encheiridion, the only one of the literary works which
owed their origin to Alfred mentioned by Asser is the translation of the
Dialogues of Gregory the Great[644]. The existence of the Chronicle, at
any rate up to 887, is implied in Asser’s use of it, but it is nowhere
mentioned. The easiest explanation of Asser’s silence as to Alfred’s
other works is that they did not then exist. The date at which Asser
professes to be writing is, as we have seen, 894; and this in turn
confirms the view derived from the chronology of Grimbald’s life, as to
the comparatively late date at which Alfred commenced his independent
literary career.
According to Asser, the translation of the Dialogues was not made by
Alfred himself, but by Bishop Werferth at his command[645]; and in the
little preface which Alfred prefixes to the work he makes no claim of
authorship, but merely says: ‘I besought my trusty friends that out of
God’s[646] books of the lives and miracles of the saints they would
write for me the instruction which follows, so that, strengthened in my
mind through memory and love, I may, amid the troubles of this world,
sometimes think on the things of heaven.’ Whether the expression ‘trusty
friends’ is merely an impersonal plural for Werferth, or whether others
really co-operated, I cannot say; but we may take it that Werferth was
mainly responsible, and that in this case the share of Alfred was
confined to furnishing a preface; just as authors nowadays are glad to
get some man of light and leading to commend their works to the public.
[Sidenote: Assistance given to Alfred by his literary advisers.]
The degree in which Alfred made use of the help of his learned advisers
would vary no doubt with the difficulty of the work in hand, and the
degree of the king’s own progress. In the case of the Pastoral Care,
Alfred himself has told us who his helpers were[647]; in other cases,
as we shall see, interesting traditions have been preserved. But I
imagine that in all cases a good deal of the drudgery would be done by
others, Alfred supplying the final literary form. Similar instances of
co-operation have not been unknown in Oxford in the nineteenth century.
[Sidenote: Evidence of the Dialogues as to Alfred’s religious thought.]
§ 92. If any evidence were needed to show that Alfred, with all his true
and earnest piety, was yet in his religious thought the child of his
century, it would be found in the fact that he should have chosen the
Dialogues of Gregory as the first of all books to be translated. The work
was enormously popular in the Middle Ages[648]; but to our thought it is
the least edifying of all Gregory’s writings. In it the principle of St.
James, that ‘the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth
much,’ is materialised, until the prayers of the saints become a mere
sort of lucky bag or wishing cap for the obtaining of anything that is
wanted, from the raising of the dead, or the punishment of an enemy, to
the supply of the most ordinary articles of domestic economy, such as
oil, and wine, or the mending of a broken sieve; while the fact that
Gregory professes in many cases to have these stories from the mouth of
eyewitnesses[649], illustrates the truth of what Dr. Gore has said[650],
that ‘there are … ages when belief is so utterly uncritical, that it does
seem as if they could not under any circumstances afford us satisfactory
evidence of miraculous occurrences.’
[Sidenote: Relics.]
In this connexion may be mentioned the stress which Asser lays on
Alfred’s veneration for the relics of the saints[651]. In this too, if
it is authentic, Alfred was the child of his age. The natural feeling
of Christian reverence for the body which had once been a temple of
the Holy Ghost, degenerated into an unhealthy passion for collecting
dead men’s bones, which reached its height in the ninth century[652].
And this passion led to a hungry relic-mongering, a system of pious
thefts, and a wholesale manufacture of spurious relics, of which Rome
was the head-quarters, which are among the least pleasant features of
the mediaeval Church. We may be sure that there was nothing unworthy
either in Alfred’s reverence for the relics, or in his belief in the
wonder-working powers of the saints. And for the rest, I think one
realises more and more how a really religious spirit assimilates the
good and is immune from the evil of the particular system in which it is
placed by Providence. There is no one, for instance, who knows anything
of the lives of the devout peasantry, say, of Scotland, or of Roman
Catholic countries on the Continent, but must feel that the somewhat
hard creed of the one, and the somewhat superstitious creed of the other
are absolutely as nothing compared with the effectual power of religion
which is the same in both.
[Sidenote: Double recension of the translation of the Dialogues.]
To return, however, from this digression to Werferth’s translation of
the Dialogues. One very interesting fact about this translation is
that, for the greater part of the first two books[653], it exists in
two recensions, of which the later is not an independent translation,
but stands to the older text in the relation of a revised version[654].
It is, as a rule, much nearer to the original; it retrenches the
redundancies[655], and corrects the mistakes[656] of the earlier
version. Sometimes we can see that the reviser had a different reading
in the Latin text from that adopted in the unrevised translation[657].
Moreover the vocabulary is considerably modified, certain words
being systematically substituted by the reviser for others of like
meaning[658]. This last feature makes it likely that the reviser was
a different person from the original translator. Who he was we shall
probably never know. It is unlikely to have been Alfred himself. For the
rest, both versions keep pretty close to the original without substantial
additions or omissions.
[Sidenote: The Anglo-Saxon martyrology. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.]
§ 93. In the class of works which owe their inspiration to Alfred, though
not actually written by him, we may possibly place the Anglo-Saxon
martyrology alluded to above[659]. We may certainly place in this class
the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle[660] in its original form, and may inscribe
upon it the legend which encircles Alfred’s Jewel, ‘Alfred bade make
me.’ I have shown elsewhere that all the MSS. of the Chronicle up to
892 are traceable to a common original. From that point they diverge.
The explanation is that at that point copies were made[661] and sent
to different religious houses, where they were continued to a large
extent independently of one another. This view of Alfred’s relation to
the Chronicle is strongly confirmed by the genealogical preface in MS.
A of the Chronicle, in which the West Saxon genealogy is carried down
to the accession of Alfred and no further, showing clearly that it was
drawn up for a chronicle compiled in his reign.
Another fact which points the same way is the strong resemblance between
the phraseology of the Chronicle and that of Alfred’s translation of
Orosius, of which I shall have more to say when I come to speak of that
translation[662]. Gaimar also, as is well known, has a most interesting
passage in which he connects the composition of the Chronicle both with
Alfred and with Winchester. Of course Gaimar is a very late authority.
But his statement harmonises so well with the indications furnished by
the Chronicle itself, and with the inherent probabilities of the case,
that I am inclined to attach much weight to it. Moreover the moderation
of Gaimar’s statement is distinctly in its favour. He does not say that
Alfred wrote the Chronicle, but merely that he caused it to be written.
Of the materials available for carrying out Alfred’s design for a
national Chronicle I have said enough elsewhere.
[Sidenote: Works attributed to Alfred.]
§ 94. It may be convenient to mention here one or two works which have
been attributed to Alfred more or less doubtfully, in order to clear the
way for the consideration of those works as to the authenticity of which
there is practically no doubt.
[Sidenote: Translation of the Psalter. The Paris MS. Partly in prose, and
partly in verse. Arguments for and against Alfred’s authorship of the
prose portion.]
In William of Malmesbury’s account of Alfred’s literary works there
occurs this very interesting statement: ‘He began to translate the
Psalter, but died when he had barely finished the first part of
it[663].’ By the first part is probably meant the first fifty psalms.
The Psalter was frequently regarded in the Middle Ages as consisting
of three divisions of fifty psalms each; so much so, that one of the
regular names for the Psalter in Irish is ‘the three fifties[664].’
Now it is an interesting fact that in the Bibliothèque Nationale
at Paris, there is an eleventh century MS. containing a Latin and
an Anglo-Saxon version of the psalms in parallel columns[665]; each
psalm, with one or two exceptions, being headed by a Latin rubric,
and, in the case of the first fifty psalms, also by an explanation in
Saxon of the circumstances which gave rise to the psalm, and of the
applications of which it is susceptible. The MS. formerly belonged to
Jehan, Duc de Berry (1340-1416), the brother of Charles V of France,
who possibly acquired it during his nine years’ sojourn as a hostage
in England after the peace of Brétigny, 1360. Now it is a striking
fact that in this Psalter the first fifty psalms are translated into
prose, while the remainder are in alliterative verse. The question
therefore arises, did the scribe of the MS. (or of its archetype)
take the latter part of an existing alliterative version, in order to
complete a fragmentary prose translation? or did he, on the other hand,
take part of an existing prose translation to make good a copy of the
poetical version which had been accidentally mutilated at the beginning?
The former is, on every ground, more probable; especially as we have
evidence of the existence of a complete alliterative version of the
Psalter identical with that in the Paris MS.[666], whereas there is no
such evidence available in the case of the fragmentary prose version. It
was therefore an attractive suggestion of Professor Wülker’s[667] that
in this fragment we have the incomplete Alfredian version mentioned by
William of Malmesbury. The question has been elaborately discussed on
the affirmative side by Dr. Wichmann[668], on the negative side by Dr.
J. Douglas Bruce[669]. I cannot say that the arguments of either have
carried any strong conviction to my mind. Dr. Bruce’s reasoning that the
translation and headings imply a knowledge of ecclesiastical modes of
interpretation impossible to a layman, overlooks the possibility that
Alfred might derive that knowledge from his clerical assistants. On the
other hand I cannot attach much weight to Dr. Wichmann’s arguments from
coincidences with the Cura Pastoralis, or from the applicability of
certain interpretations to the circumstances of Alfred’s life. When we
consider that David and Alfred were both kings, that both had enemies
from whom they were both very marvellously delivered, we shall readily
see that an interpretation which would suit the one might very easily be
applicable to the other. The most striking instance of this has not, as
far as I remember, been cited. It is in the introduction to Ps. xxiii
(xxiv), where it is said that in this psalm David was prophesying how his
ealdormen (principes) would be fain of his return from exile[670], words
which recall the expression of the Chronicler how Alfred’s people ‘were
fain of him’ when he emerged from his retreat at Athelney.
On the whole then we must leave the question undecided, until further
evidence or further argument is brought forward.
[Sidenote: Even if not by Alfred, this may be the work alluded to by
Malmesbury.]
§ 95. I would however point out that even if the decision should be
against Alfred’s authorship, it is still possible that the prose
portion of the Paris Psalter may be the work referred to by William of
Malmesbury. The colophon at the end of the MS. gives the name of the
scribe in the Latin form Wulfwinus. In the Cottonian Collection there is
a MS. of the Saxon Gospels with the colophon: ‘Wulfwi me wrat.’ This was
certainly a Malmesbury book, as is shown by the insertion of a Malmesbury
Charter between the Gospels of St. Luke and St. John. If this Wulfwi
could be identified with the Wulfwinus of the Paris Psalter, or its
archetype[671], it would make it likely that that also was a Malmesbury
book. William of Malmesbury was librarian of his monastery[672], and
there may have been a tradition there that the prose translation was the
work of Alfred; a tradition which would be interesting even if it were
not strictly true[673].
[Sidenote: Statement that Alfred translated the whole Bible, probably due
to a misunderstanding.]
There is a statement in the twelfth-century Liber Eliensis that ‘Alfred
translated the whole Old and New Testaments for the blessing of the
English nation[674].’ I know no earlier evidence for this, and I believe
the statement to have arisen from a misunderstanding of one of William of
Malmesbury’s rhetorical flourishes in which he says that Alfred ‘gave to
English ears the greater part of the Roman library[675] (bibliothecae)’,
meaning by the last phrase Latin authors. But Bibliotheca is a common
name in the Middle Ages for St. Jerome’s Latin translation of the Bible,
the library of divine books[676]; hence Malmesbury’s statement was
misunderstood as meaning that Alfred had translated the greater part of
the Latin Bible.
[Sidenote: Alleged Domesday Book of Alfred.]
The statement of Ingulf[677] that Alfred made a Domesday Book like
William the Conqueror rests either on a confusion of Dómbóc (Book of
Laws) with Domesday Book[678]; or possibly on a confusion of William’s
Rotulus Wintoniae, as Domesday was sometimes called[679], with Alfred’s
Winchester Book; i.e. the Chronicle.
[Sidenote: Other works.]
Other works which popular tradition has ascribed to Alfred are a
collection of proverbs, a translation of Æsop’s fables, and a treatise on
falconry[680].
[Sidenote: Alfred’s translation of Gregory’s Pastoral Care. Its relation
to the original. Omissions and additions.]
§ 96. Very different in value from the Dialogues, according to our
notions, is the other work of Gregory, the translation of which is due
to Alfred, the Pastoral Care. It is a beautiful book, full of wise and
loving spiritual counsel, and of sayings both shrewd and tender. It is
greatly to the credit of the mediaeval Church that it set such store by
this little manual[681]. Alfred sent a copy of his translation to each
of his bishops, to aid them in what Gregory himself[682] so beautifully
calls ‘the art of arts, the care of souls.’ I agree with Professor
Wülker[683] in thinking this the earliest of Alfred’s translations, and
largely for the reason that, as he points out, the Preface, as we have
learnt to know it, is so obviously a preface, not merely to this work,
but to the whole series of translations which Alfred contemplated, of
‘the books which it is most needful for every man to know.’ If what
was said above is correct, the date of it cannot be earlier than 894,
and it may be a little later. It has often been noticed that of all
Alfred’s works (not reckoning among these the Dialogues), this is the
one in which he keeps closest to his original. I attribute this rather
to his reverence for that original, than to any inability on his part
to deal more freely with it, had he so desired. The omissions are few
and unimportant[684]. The additions are much more numerous, but as a
rule they are very slight. They are mostly of the kind which a modern
editor would place on the margin or in a footnote. A very large class
consists merely of the insertion of the names of the various books of
the Bible from which Gregory’s scriptural quotations are taken[685]. In
the case of the psalms the number of the psalm is often given[686],
which is possibly an illustration of Asser’s statements[687] as to the
special fondness of Alfred for the Psalter. Other insertions consist of
brief explanatory notes; an allusion or metaphor is cleared up[688],
a foreign word or custom is explained[689], a quotation or story is
completed[690]. Thus after a reference to the institution of the Levirate
among the Jews, Alfred adds: ‘this was good law under the old covenant,
and to us now it is a parable[691].’ The manna is ‘the sweet food that
came down from heaven[692].’ Shittim wood, we are told, never rots[693].
It does not follow that the explanation is always correct. Thus to
Christ’s denunciation of the Pharisees for scrupulosity in tithing herbs
is added the statement that they left untithed their more valuable
possessions[694].
[Sidenote: Interpretation by Saxon analogies. The original toned down,
expanded and mistranslated. The phraseology bears the stamp of Alfred’s
own experience.]
§ 97. Occasionally Alfred interprets biblical things by Saxon analogies.
Thus the Hebrew cities of refuge become a Saxon ‘frithstow[695],’ as
they do also in Alfred’s preface to his laws[696]. The Doctors among
whom the child Jesus was found were the wisest ‘Witan’ that there
were in Jerusalem[697]. Uriah, whom David murdered, was ‘his own
loyal thane[698].’ In the Soliloquies Alfred speaks of the Apostles as
Christ’s thanes[699]. This process is carried yet further in the sacred
epic poetry both of the insular and continental Saxons, the disciples
becoming Christ’s ‘comites’ or ‘gesiths,’ who are bound to die with their
Lord[700]. Alfred here also, as in some of his other works[701], and in
the Laws[702], lays great stress on the position of the Lord[703]. Once
or twice Alfred tones down his original; thus where Gregory speaking of
the death of impenitent sinners says: ‘they lament that they refused to
serve God now that they can in no wise by service make good the evils
of their former negligence,’ Alfred in his pity inserts the clause:
‘unless they be helped by repentance and God’s mercy[704].’ In one
instance the explanation given is dogmatic, the reception of ‘the spirit
of adoption’ of which St. Paul speaks, being referred to baptism[705].
No doubt for many, if not most, of these additions Alfred was indebted
to his clerical assistants. Often, without any very distinct addition
being made to the text, it is rather freely expanded[706]. Sometimes the
rendering is rather loose[707], as if the meaning of the original had
been imperfectly grasped; sometimes it is distinctly wrong[708]. And
throughout one may say that the translation is made (to use Alfred’s
own expression) rather ‘sense by sense’ than ‘word by word[709].’ And
sometimes, though the phrase may be very close to the original, it seems
to bear the stamp of Alfred’s own experience. The heading of the fourth
chapter must have come straight from his heart: ‘that many times the
business of government and rule distracts the mind of the ruler[710].’
‘What,’ he exclaims in another place, ‘is rule and authority but the
soul’s tempest which is always buffeting the ship of the heart with the
storms of many thoughts, so that it is driven hither and thither in very
narrow straits, wellnigh wrecked among many mighty rocks[711]?’ Or again:
‘the patient must be admonished to strengthen their heart after their
great victory, and hold the burg of their mind against marauding bands,
and fortify it with battlements[712].’ Lastly: ‘every host (_here_) is
the less effective when it comes, if its coming is known beforehand. For
it finds them prepared whom it thought to take unprepared[713].’ In these
two last passages we seem almost to hear the echo of Alfred’s experience
in 878[714].
[Sidenote: Question as to the order of the Orosius and Bede translations.]
§ 98. The next two works of Alfred to be considered are both historical,
viz. the translations of Orosius’ Universal History, and of Bede’s
Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation. There has been however
considerable difference of opinion as to the order of these two works.
The earlier critics, however much they might differ among themselves
as to the succession of Alfred’s works taken as a whole, all, with the
exception of Dr. Bosworth, agreed in placing the Orosius before the
Bede[715]. But in recent times Wülker[716], August Schmidt[717], and my
friend Professor Schipper of Vienna[718] have argued in favour of the
other view. The chief ground on which they have based their conclusion is
the greater freedom of the Orosius both in translation and arrangement
as compared with the Bede. In the latter the translation is sometimes
quite unduly literal, so as to be almost unintelligible in places
without a reference to the original[719]; while as to arrangement,
the modifications of the original are, for the most part, limited to
omissions of matters like the Easter Controversy which had ceased
to have any living interest, the additions and transpositions being
very unimportant. The Orosius on the other hand is not only freer in
translation, but is so recast by transposition, addition, and omission,
as to be practically a new work.
[Sidenote: Character of the two originals, and of the translations.]
It is argued that this greater freedom implies a more practised hand, and
therefore a later date. The argument seems to me fallacious. As regards
substantial alterations we must bear in mind the different character
of the two originals. Bede’s Ecclesiastical History has always been an
almost sacred book to Englishmen. It needed no recasting, beyond a few
omissions, to make it suitable for English readers in Alfred’s day.
But Orosius’ work, written with the polemical object of enforcing the
argument of Augustine’s De Ciuitate Dei against the pagan contention that
the troubles of the times were due to the introduction of Christianity,
by showing, in a survey of universal history, that the evils of
pre-Christian days were far greater, and full therefore of ecclesiastical
gloating over the crimes and calamities of pagan history, required much
more drastic treatment. On the occasional over-literalness of the Bede
translation I shall have something to say presently. As regards the
greater freedom of the Orosius, any one who has examined in one of our
Pass Schools will bear witness that there is a kind of free translation,
which is very far from implying a perfect mastery of the original. And I
must confess that Alfred’s freedom in the Orosius is often of the latter
kind[720]. I should say that there are far more serious blunders in
translation in the Orosius than in the Bede; though on the other hand it
must be remembered that Bede’s Latin is a good deal easier than that of
Orosius.
[Sidenote: Arguments in favour of the priority of the Orosius. Argument
on the other side.]
§ 99. In the Introduction to the second volume of my Saxon Chronicle[721]
I argued in favour of the priority of the Orosius, on the ground of the
affinity in diction and expression between it and the Saxon Chronicle.
That argument I need not repeat here; I still think that it has force,
though I possibly laid too much stress upon it, as one is apt to do when
one gets hold of an idea which one fancies to be new[722]. It is however
capable of being reinforced. The second chapter of Bede’s first book
contains an account of Caesar’s invasions of Britain. This is a matter
which one would take to be of great interest to all inhabitants of this
island[723]. Yet in the Bede translation it is, in the older recension,
omitted altogether, and even in the later recension is passed over with
the barest mention[724]. But this chapter is almost wholly taken from
Orosius; and when we turn to the Orosius version, we find that Alfred has
not only translated the passage in question, but has enriched it with
his own local knowledge, telling us that Caesar’s first two engagements
with the natives were ‘in the land which is called Kent-land,’ and that
the third took place ‘near the ford which is called Wallingford[725].’ If
the Orosius translation preceded the Bede, we can understand why Alfred
omitted the corresponding passage in the latter. Again, in chapter v of
the same book, Bede expressly corrects a mistake of Orosius’ as to the
wall of Severus, saying that it was not properly a wall, but a rampart of
sods with a ditch; Alfred not only adopts this correction here[726], but
in another place of the Bede seems to emphasise it[727], where there is
no special emphasis in the original. In the Orosius passage the mistake
is uncorrected[728]. Alfred shows in many ways that he had a good memory,
and that he did not shrink from correcting his authors where he thought
they needed it; he would hardly have ignored Bede’s correction had he
been cognisant of it when he was making the translation of Orosius. The
only serious argument on the other side is one which has not, as far as I
am aware, been previously noticed. I mean the affinity of passages in the
Orosius with passages in the Boethius, which is, as we shall see[729],
almost certainly later than either the Orosius or the Bede. Of these the
most important are two in which Alfred without any hint from the original
protests against the doctrine that all things happen by fate[730], a
subject which occupies a prominent place in the Boethius. There would,
however, be nothing impossible in the supposition that Alfred may
have read the Consolation of Boethius before he undertook the work of
translating it, or the subject may have been suggested to his active mind
in some other way. On the whole the question of precedence as between the
Orosius and the Bede must be left uncertain; though in accordance with my
own view I shall take the Orosius first.
[Sidenote: Relation of the Orosius translation to the original.]
§ 100. It would be impossible to discuss in detail the modifications made
by Alfred in his original. They occur on almost every page. I can only
indicate their general character, and give a few specimens of some of the
more important. And in doing this I very willingly acknowledge the help
which I have derived from Dr. Hugo Schilling’s useful dissertation on the
subject[731].
[Sidenote: Additions. Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan.]
It may give some measure of the extent of Alfred’s changes to note that
whereas the original consists of seven books divided into 236 chapters,
the Saxon version contains six books with only 84 chapters[732]. The most
important additions are to be found in the geographical introduction
which Orosius prefixes to his work. It is here that Alfred inserts
the well-known description of the geography of Germany, which for him
includes all central Europe from the Rhine on the west to the Don on
the east, and from the Danube on the south to the White Sea on the
north[733]. Here too are inserted the yet more famous accounts of the
voyages of Ohthere[734] and Wulfstan[735], on which so much has been
written. Ohthere’s account begins: ‘Ohthere told his lord king Alfred
that of all the Northmen he dwelt furthest to the North’; and this is
the only direct evidence which the work contains as to its authorship.
These accounts and also the description of Germany, which, like them,
must have been carefully derived from oral information, illustrate what
Asser tells of Alfred’s intercourse with strangers and his eagerness
to learn from them[736], a trait which was characteristic also of the
great Charles[737]. In the historical part the chief additions are the
description of a Roman triumph[738], and of the temple of Janus[739].
But there are endless smaller additions; and of these one of the most
interesting is the anecdote, ultimately derived from Suetonius, how Titus
used to say that the day was a lost day on which he had done no good to
any one[740]. This saying is quoted also in the Chronicle, and is one
of the links connecting the two works[741]. We can understand how this
saying of the ‘deliciae generis humani’ would come home to the heart
of England’s darling[742]. Some of these shorter insertions are brief
explanatory notes[743] like those which we have already met with in the
Cura Pastoralis, and, like them, are by no means always correct.
[Sidenote: Editorial explanations.]
§ 101. Sometimes the explanations are longer; and many of these are due
entirely to Alfred’s imagination, and are intended to make clear to us
how, in his view, the event narrated came about. It is not in accordance
with our modern notions that editorial explanations of this kind should
be incorporated in the text of an author. But the idea of literary
property is a comparatively modern one, and footnotes and appendices had
not then been invented. It is more questionable when the phrase ‘cwæð
Orosius’ which Alfred frequently[744] uses to indicate that a sentiment
or a statement is his author’s, not his own, is used, as is the case
in one or two instances, to introduce something for which there is no
warrant in the original; for instance, one of the passages about fate
alluded to above[745].
[Sidenote: These frequently relate to military matters.]
Of these editorial explanations the most interesting perhaps are those
which relate to military matters; because they seem in some cases to
reflect Alfred’s own military experience—a point which Schilling has not
noticed. For instance, when Alfred gives as Hannibal’s reason for his
terrible winter march over the Apennines, that ‘he knew that Flaminius
the consul was fancying that he might remain securely in his winter
quarters, … being fully persuaded that no one would attempt such a march
by reason of the intense cold[746],’ we think of the sudden swoop of the
Danes on Alfred at Chippenham that Epiphany tide 878[747]; the stratagem
of a simulated flight, by which he explains the defeat of Regulus[748],
is one which there is reason to believe that the Danes more than once
resorted to[749]; as also the device which he attributes to Hannibal,
without any warrant from the original text, of sending out parties to
ravage in various directions in order to make the enemy imagine that his
whole force was occupied in this manner[750]; though this also closely
resembles the feigned attacks which Alfred himself made from Athelney, in
order to mask his advance in force to Ethandun[751].
[Sidenote: Passages in Orosius illustrated by Alfred’s own experience.
Anecdote of Nelson.]
§ 102. The same is true of some things for which there is a basis in
Orosius himself; for instance, the story how, within sixty days from
the felling of the trees, Duilius had a fleet of 130 ships ready ‘both
with mast and sail[752]’ recalls Alfred’s own shipbuilding efforts; the
story how Dercyllidas dealt with the opposing forces of Pharnabazus and
Tissaphernes is extraordinarily like Alfred’s attempt to detach the Danes
of Milton from those at Appledore in 893 [894][753]: ‘As soon as the
Lacedemonian general knew that he had to deal with two hosts (_heras_),
he thought it more advisable to make peace with the one, in order that
he might the more easily overcome the other[754]’; while I have already
suggested that the twofold division of the Amazonian host[755], one to
remain at home while the other was on active service, may have even
suggested Alfred’s similar division of the native fyrd _or_ militia. And,
indeed, if the workings of the human mind were always traceable, I fancy
we should find, more often than is commonly supposed, that what seem
like brilliant intuitions on the part of great commanders and statesmen,
had really been suggested by their reading. Nor is this any detraction
from their originality. To remember at the right time, and apply in the
right way, the hints furnished by previous experience, is as much a mark
of genius as invention. There is an interesting tradition that Nelson’s
manœuvre of anchoring his vessels by the stern at the bombardment of
Copenhagen in 1801, was suggested by the fact that he had that morning
been reading the twenty-seventh chapter of the Acts, which tells how St.
Paul’s shipwrecked companions ‘cast four anchors out of the stern, and
wished for the day[756].’
[Sidenote: The alterations sometimes illustrate Alfred’s own sentiments.
Mistakes. Alfred’s character displayed.]
§ 103. Often the additions and expansions let us see Alfred’s own
sentiments; his religious feelings[757], his admiration for genius,
patriotism, and courage, as exemplified in such men as Alexander[758],
Scaevola[759], Regulus[760], the two Scipios[761] and Caesar[762];
his disgust at ingratitude to God[763] and man[764], at cruelty[765],
treachery[766], or sloth[767]. The omissions are often dictated by
similar motives. He leaves out or abridges many of the civil wars, the
calamities, the crimes, the unclean mythologies[768], over which Orosius
gloated as proofs of heathen depravity; though often the omissions have
no special motive beyond the necessity for shortening the work. It must
be confessed that these omissions frequently have the effect of wholly
dislocating the succession of events. And it may be said generally that
Alfred, though he apprehends individual incidents with extraordinary
vividness, is by no means clear as to the connexion of events. For the
latter quality greater knowledge was required than was accessible in
his day. In regard to the additions, moreover, we must bear in mind the
possibility that some of them may be due, not to Alfred himself, but
to interpolations or glosses in the MSS. which he used. This, as we
shall see[769], is a consideration of great importance in the case of
the Boethius, but it has been proved to apply to one or two passages
of the Orosius also[770]. That there are many errors as to persons
bearing the same or similar names[771], many confusions of personal and
geographical appellations[772], many quaint mistakes of translation[773]
and of fact, as when he says that Augustus took his name from the eighth
month of the year instead of vice versa[774], turns the snake-charming
tribe of Psylli[775] into a kind of serpent, and infers from Augustus’
heart-broken exclamation, ‘Vare, redde legiones,’ that that ill-fated
commander had escaped alive from his defeat[776]; this is only what we
might expect, and it would be ungracious to dwell upon such things[777].
Dr. Schilling has truly and excellently said[778] of the Orosius: ‘We see
Alfred here weak in historical and linguistic knowledge; but we see him
also simple, high-hearted, and earnest; full of warm appreciation for
all that is good, and of scorn for all that is evil; putting himself to
school that he may educate and raise his people.’