OUT OF DOOR AMUSEMENTS OF THE ANGLO-SAXONS.--HUNTING AND
HAWKING.--HORSES AND CARRIAGES.--TRAVELLING.--MONEY-DEALINGS.
The progress of society from its first formation to the full
development of civilization, has been compared not inaptly to the life
of man. In the childhood and youth of society, when the population
was not numerous, and a servile class performed the chief part of
the labour necessary for administering to the wants or luxuries of
life, people had a far greater proportion of time on their hands to
fill up with amusements than at a later period, and many that are
now considered frivolous, or are only indulged in at rare intervals
of relaxation, then formed the principal occupations of men’s lives.
We have glanced at the in-door amusements of the Anglo-Saxons in a
previous chapter; but their out-door recreations, although we have
little information respecting them, were certainly much more numerous.
The multitude of followers who, in Saxon times, attended on each lord
or rich man as their military chief, or as their domestic supporter,
had generally no serious occupation during the greater part of the day;
and this abundance of unemployed time was not confined to one class of
society, for the artisan had to work less to gain his subsistence, and
both citizen and peasant were excused from work altogether during the
numerous holidays of the year.
That the Anglo-Saxons were universally fond of play (_plega_) is proved
by the frequent use of the word in a metaphorical sense. They even
applied it to fighting and battle, which, in the language of the poets,
were _plega-gares_ (play of darts), _æsc-plega_ (play of shields),
and _hand-plega_ (play of hands).[14] In the glossaries, _plegere_
(a player), and _plega-man_ (a playman), are used to represent the
Roman _gladiator_; and _plega-hús_ (a playhouse), and _plega-stow_
(a play-place), express a theatre, or more probably an amphitheatre.
Recent discoveries have shown that there was a theatre of considerable
dimensions in the Roman town of Verulamium (near St. Alban’s); and old
writers tell us there was one at the Silurian Isca (Caerleon), though
these buildings were doubtless of rare occurrence; but every Roman town
of any importance in the island had its amphitheatre outside the walls
for gladiatorial and other exhibitions. The result of modern researches
seems to prove that most of the Roman towns continued to exist after
the Saxon settlement of the island, and we can have no doubt that
the amphitheatres, at least for awhile, continued to be devoted to
their original purposes, although the performances were modified in
character. Some of them (like that at Richborough, in Kent, lately
examined), were certainly surrounded by walls, while others probably
were merely cut in the ground, and surrounded by a low embankment
formed of the material thrown out. The first of these, the Saxons would
naturally call a play-house, while the other would receive the no less
appropriate appellation of a play-stow, or place for playing. Among the
illustrations of the Anglo-Saxon manuscript of the Psalms (MS. Harl.,
No. 603), to which we have so often had occasion to refer, there is a
very curious picture, evidently intended to represent an amphitheatre
outside a town. It is copied in our cut No. 41. The rude Anglo-Saxon
draughtsman has evidently intended to represent an embankment, occupied
by the spectators, around the spot where the performances take place.
The spectator to the left is expressing his approbation by clapping
with his hands. The performances themselves are singular: we have a
party of minstrels, one of them playing on the Roman double pipes, so
often represented in Anglo-Saxon manuscripts, while another is dancing
to him, and the third is performing with a tame bear, which is at the
moment of the representation simulating sleep. Games of this kind with
animals, succeeded no doubt among the Saxons to the Roman gladiatorial
fights, but few have imagined that the popular English exhibition of
the dancing bear dated from so remote a period. The manuscripts show
that the double pipe was in use among the Anglo-Saxons; with a little
modification, and a bag or bellows to supply the place of the human
lungs, this instrument was transformed into a bagpipe.
[Illustration: _No. 41. Games of the Amphitheatre._]
Not the least curious part of this picture is the town in the
background, with its entrance gateway, and public buildings. The
Anglo-Saxon draughtsmen were imperfectly acquainted with perspective,
and paid little attention to proportion in their representations of
towns and houses, a circumstance which is fully illustrated in this
picture. As the artist was unable from this circumstance to represent
the buildings and streets of a town in their relative position, he
put in a house to represent a multitude of houses, and here he has
similarly given one building within the walls to represent all the
public buildings of the town. An exactly similar characteristic will
be observed in our cut No. 42, taken from the same manuscript, where
one temple represents the town. Here again we have a party of citizens
outside the walls, amusing themselves as well as they can; some, for
want of other employment, are laying themselves down listlessly on the
ground.
[Illustration: _No. 42. A Town._]
The national sentiments and customs of the Anglo-Saxons would, however,
lead to the selection of other places for the scenes of their games,
and thus the Roman amphitheatres became neglected. Each village had its
arena--its play-place--where persons of all ages and sexes assembled
on their holidays to be players or lookers on; and this appears to
have been usually chosen near a fountain, or some object hallowed by
the popular creed, for customs of this kind were generally associated
with religious feelings which tended to consecrate and protect them.
These holiday games, which appear to have been very common among our
Saxon forefathers, were the originals of our village wakes. Wandering
minstrels, like those represented in our cut No. 41, repaired to them
to exhibit their skill, and were always welcome. The young men exerted
themselves in running, or leaping, or wrestling. These games attracted
merchants, and gradually became the centres of extensive fairs. Such
was the case with one of the most celebrated in England during the
middle ages, that of Barnwell, near Cambridge. It was a large open
place, between the town and the banks of the river, well suited for
such festivities as those of which we are speaking. A spring in the
middle of this plain, we are told in the early chartulary of Barnwell
Abbey, was called Beornawyl (the well of the youths), because every
year, on the eve of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, the boys and
youths of the neighbourhood assembled there, and, “after the manners of
the English, practised wrestling and other boyish games, and mutually
applauded one another with songs and musical instruments; whence, on
account of the multitude of boys and girls who gathered together there,
it grew a custom for a crowd of sellers and buyers to assemble there on
the same day for the purpose of commerce.”[15] This is a curious and a
rather rare allusion to an Anglo-Saxon wake.
One of the great recreations of the Anglo-Saxons was hunting, for
which the immense forests, which then covered a great portion of this
island, gave a wide scope. The most austere and pious, as well as the
most warlike, of the Anglo-Saxon monarchs, were passionately attached
to the pleasures of the chase. According to the writer who has assumed
the name of Asser, the great Alfred was so attached to this amusement,
that he condescended to teach his “falconers, hawkers, and dog-keepers”
himself. His grandson, king Ethelstan, as we learn from William of
Malmesbury, exacted from the Welsh princes, among other articles of
tribute, “as many dogs as he might choose, which, from their sagacious
scent, could discover the retreats and hiding-places of wild beasts;
and birds trained to make prey of others in the air.” The same writer
tells us of the sainted Edward the Confessor, that “there was one
earthly enjoyment in which he chiefly delighted, which was, hunting
with fleet hounds, whose opening in the woods he used with pleasure to
encourage; and again, with the pouncing of birds, whose nature it is to
prey on their kindred species. In these exercises, after hearing divine
service in the morning, he employed himself whole days.” It is evident
from the ecclesiastical laws, that it was difficult to restrain even
the clergy from this diversion. One of the ecclesiastical canons passed
in the reign of king Edgar, enjoins “that no priest be a hunter, or
fowler, or player at tables, but let him play on his books, as becometh
his calling.” When the king hunted, it appears that men were employed
to beat up the game, while others were placed at different avenues of
the forest to hinder the deer from taking a direction contrary to the
wishes of the hunter. Several provisions relating to the employment of
men in this way, occur in the Domesday survey. A contemporary writer
of the Life of Dunstan gives the following description of the hunting
of king Edmund the Elder, at Ceoddri (Chedder). “When they reached
the forest,” he says, “they took various directions along the woody
avenues, and the varied noise of the horns, and the barking of the
dogs, aroused many stags. From these, the king with his pack of hounds
chose one for his own hunting, and pursued it long, through devious
ways with great agility on his horse, with the hounds following. In the
vicinity of Ceoddri were several steep and lofty precipices hanging
over deep declivities. To one of these the stag came in his flight, and
dashed headlong to his destruction down the immense depth, all the dogs
following and perishing with him.” The king with difficulty held in his
horse.
[Illustration: _No. 43. Anglo-Saxon Dogs._]
The dogs (_hundas_), used for the chase among the Anglo-Saxons, were
valuable, and were bred with great care. Every noble or great landowner
had his _hund-wealh_, or dog-keeper. The accompanying cut (No. 43),
taken from the Harleian MS. No. 603, represents a dog-keeper, with his
couple of hounds--they seem to have hunted in couples. The Anglo-Saxon
name for a hunting-dog was _ren-hund_, a dog of chase, which is
interpreted by greyhound; and this appears, from the cut, to have been
the favourite dog of our Saxon forefathers. It appears by an allusion
given above, that the Saxons obtained hunting dogs from Wales; yet
the antiquary will be at once struck with the total dissimilarity of
the dogs pictured in the Anglo-Saxon manuscripts, from the British
dogs represented on the Romano-British pottery. The dogs were used
to find the game, and follow it by the scent; the hunters killed it
with spears, or with bows and arrows, or drove it into nets. In the
Colloquy of Alfric, a hunter (_hunta_) of one of the royal forests
gives a curious account of his profession. When asked how he practises
his “craft,” he replies, “I braid nets, and set them in a convenient
place, and set on my hounds, that they may pursue the beasts of chase,
until they come unexpectedly to the nets, and so become intangled in
them, and I slay them in the nets.” He is then asked if he cannot hunt
without nets, to which he replies, “Yes, I pursue the wild animals
with swift hounds.” He next enumerates the different kinds of game
which the Saxon hunter usually hunted--“I take harts, and boars, and
deer, and roes, and sometimes hares.” “Yesterday,” he continues, “I
took two harts and a boar, ... the harts with nets, and I slew the
boar with my weapon.” “How were you so hardy as to slay a boar?” “My
hounds drove him to me, and I, there facing him, suddenly struck him
down.” “You were very bold then.” “A hunter must not be timid, for
various wild beasts dwell in the woods.” It would seem by this, that
boar-hunting was not uncommon in the more extensive forests of this
island; but Sharon Turner has made a singular mistake, in supposing,
from a picture in the Anglo-Saxon calendar, that boar-hunting was the
ordinary occupation of the month of September. The scene which he has
thus mistaken--or at least, a portion of it--is given in our cut No. 44
(from the Cottonian MS. Claudius, C. viii.); it represents swineherds
driving their swine into the forests to feed upon acorns, which one of
the herdsmen is shaking from the trees with his hand. The herdsmen were
necessarily armed to protect the herds under their charge from robbers.
[Illustration: _No. 44. Swine-Herds._]
The Anglo-Saxons, as we have seen, were no less attached to hawking
than hunting. The same Colloquy already quoted contains the following
dialogue relating to the fowler (_fugelere_). To the question, “How
dost thou catch birds?” he replies, “I catch them in many ways;
sometimes with nets, sometimes with snares, sometimes with bird-lime,
sometimes with whistling, sometimes with a hawk, sometimes with a
trap.” “Hast thou a hawk?” “I have.” “Canst thou tame them?” “Yes, I
can; of what use would they be to me unless I could tame them?” “Give
me a hawk.” “I will give one willingly in exchange for a swift hound.
What kind of hawk will you have, the greater or the lesser?”... “How
feedest thou thy hawks?” “They feed themselves and me in winter, and
in spring I let them fly to the wood, and I catch young ones in autumn
and tame them.” A party of hawkers is represented in our cut No. 45,
taken from the manuscript last quoted, where it illustrates the month
of October. The rude attempt at depicting a landscape is intended to
represent a river running from the distant hills into a lake, and the
hawkers are hunting cranes and other water-fowl. Presents of hawks and
falcons are not unfrequently mentioned in Anglo-Saxon writers; and in a
will, an Anglo-Saxon leaves to his natural lord “two hawks and all his
stag-hounds.”
[Illustration: _No. 45. Anglo-Saxons Hawking._]
[Illustration: _No. 46. Anglo-Saxons on a Journey._]
The Saxon youths were proud of their skill in horsemanship. Bede
relates an anecdote of the youthful days of Herebald, abbot of
Tynemouth, when he attended upon bishop John of Beverley, from
Herebald’s own words--“It happened one day,” the latter said, “that
as we were travelling with him (the bishop), we came into a plain
and open road, well adapted for galloping our horses. The young men
that were with him, and particularly those of the laity, began to
entreat the bishop to give them leave to gallop, and make trial of
the goodness of their horses.... When they had several times galloped
backwards and forwards, the bishop and I looking on, my wanton humour
prevailed, and I could no longer refrain; but, though he forbade me, I
struck in among them, and began to ride at full speed.” Horses were
used chiefly by the upper classes of society in travelling. Two of
a party of Saxon travellers are represented in our cut No. 46 (from
MS. Cotton. Claudius, B. iv.). The lady, it will be observed, rides
sideways, as in modern times, and the illuminated manuscripts of
different periods furnish us with examples enough to show that such was
always the practice; yet an old writer has ascribed the introduction of
side-saddles into this country to Anne of Bohemia, the queen of Richard
II., and the statement has been repeated by writers on costume, who
too often blindly compile from one another without examining carefully
the original sources of information.[16] The next cut, No. 47 (taken
from MS. Harl. No. 603), represents a horseman with his arms, the
spear, and the round shield, with its boss, which reminds us of those
frequently found in the early Anglo-Saxon graves. The horse furniture
is tolerably well defined in these figures. The forms of the spur
(_spura_) and the stirrup (called in Anglo-Saxon _stirap_ and _hlypa_)
are very peculiar. Most of the furniture of the horse was then, as now,
of leather, and was made by the shoemaker (_se sceowyrhta_), who seems
to have been the general manufacturer of articles in this material.
Alfric’s Colloquy enumerates among the articles made by the shoemaker,
bridle-thongs (_bridel-thwancgas_), harnesses (_gerœda_), spur-leathers
(_spur-lethera_), and halters (_hælfra_). The form of the saddle is
shown in the representation of a horse without a rider, given, from the
manuscript last quoted, in our cut No. 48.
[Illustration: _No. 47. An Anglo-Saxon Horseman._]
[Illustration: _No. 48. Anglo-Saxon Horse Fittings._]
[Illustration: _No. 49. A Chariot._]
In the Anglo-Saxon church histories, we meet with frequent instances
of persons, who were unable to walk from sickness or other cause,
being carried in carts or cars, but in most cases these seem to have
been nothing but the common agricultural carts adapted temporarily
to this usage. A horse-litter is on one occasion used for the same
purpose. It is certain, however, that the Anglo-Saxons had chariots
for travelling. The usual names of all vehicles of this kind were
_wægn_ or _wæn_ (from which, our _waggon_) and _crat_ or _cræt_ (which
appears to be the origin of the English word _cart_). These two terms
appear to have been used synonymously, for the words of the 18th Psalm,
_hi in curribus_, are translated in one Anglo-Saxon version by _on
wænum_, and in another by _in crætum_. The Anglo-Saxon manuscripts
give us various representations of vehicles for travelling. The one
represented in the cut No. 49 is taken from the Anglo-Saxon manuscript
of Prudentius. It seems to have been a barbaric “improvement” upon the
Roman _biga_, and is not much unlike our modern market-carts. The
whip used by the lady who is driving so furiously, is of the same form
as that used by the horsewoman in our cut No. 46. The artist has not
shown the _wægne-thixl_, or shaft. A four-wheeled carriage, of rather a
singular construction, is found often repeated, with some variations,
in the illuminations of the manuscript of Alfric’s translation of
the Pentateuch. One of them is given in our cut No. 50. It is quite
evident that a good deal of the minor detail of construction has been
omitted by the draughtsman. Anglo-Saxon glosses give the word _rad_ to
represent the Latin _quadriga_. From the same source we learn that the
compound word _wæn-fær_, waggon-going, was used to express journeying
in chariots.
[Illustration: _No. 50. An Anglo-Saxon Carriage._]
Riding in chariots must have been rare among the Anglo-Saxons. Horses
were only used by the better classes of society; and we learn from Bede
and other writers that pious ecclesiastics, such as bishops Aidan,
Ceadda, and Cuthbert, thought it more consistent with the humility
of their sacred character to journey on foot. The pedestrian carried
either a spear or a staff; the rider had almost always a spear. It is
noted of Cuthbert, in Bede’s life of that saint, that one day when he
came to Mailros (Melrose), and would enter the church to pray, having
leaped from his horse, he “gave the latter and his travelling spear
to the care of a servant, for he had not yet resigned the dress and
habits of a layman.” The weapon was, no doubt, necessary for personal
safety. There is a very curious clause in the Anglo-Saxon laws of king
Alfred, relating to an accident arising from the carrying the spear,
which we can hardly understand, although to require a special law it
must have been of frequent occurrence; this law provides that “if a man
have a spear over his shoulder, and _any man stake himself upon it_,”
the carrier of the spear incurred severe punishment, “if the point be
three fingers higher than the hindmost part of the shaft.” He was not
considered blameable if he held the spear quite horizontally.
The traveller always wore a covering for his head, which, though
of various shapes, none of which resembled our modern hat, was
characterised by the general term of _hæt_. He seems to have been
further protected against the inclemency of the weather by a cloak
or mantle (_mentel_). One would be led to suppose that this outer
garment was more varied in form and material than any other part
of the dress, from the great number of names which we find applied
to it, such as _basing_, _hæcce_, _hæcela_, or _hacela_, _pæll_,
_pylca_, _scyccels_, _wæfels_, &c. The writings which remain throw no
light upon the provisions made by travellers against rain; for the
dictionary-makers who give _scúr-scead_ (shower-shade) as signifying an
umbrella, are certainly mistaken.[17] Yet that umbrellas were known to
the Anglo-Saxons is proved beyond a doubt by a figure in the Harleian
manuscript, No. 603, which is given in our cut No. 51. A servant or
attendant is holding an umbrella over the head of a man who appears to
be covered at the same time with the cloak or mantle.
[Illustration: _No. 51. An Anglo-Saxon Umbrella._]
Travelling to any distance must have been rendered more uncomfortable,
especially when passing through wild districts where there were no
inns. The word _inn_ is itself Saxon, and signified a lodging, but it
appears to have been more usually applied to houses of this kind in
towns. A tavern was also called a _gest-hus_ or _gest-bur_, a house or
chamber for guests, and _cumena-hus_, a house of comers. Guest-houses,
like caravanserais in the East, appear to have been established
in different parts of Saxon England, near the high roads, for the
reception of travellers. A traveller in Bede arrives at a _hospitium_
in the north of England, which was kept by a _paterfamilias_ (or father
of a family) and his household. In the Northumbrian gloss on the
Psalms, printed by the Surtees Society, the Latin words of Psalm liv.,
_in hospitiis eorum_, are rendered by _in gest-husum heara_. This shows
that Bede’s _hospitium_ was really a guest-house: these guest-houses
were kept up in various parts of England until Norman times; and Walter
Mapes, in his treatise de Nugis Curialium, has preserved a story
relating to one of William the Conqueror’s Saxon opponents, Edric the
Wild, which tells how, returning from hunting in the forest of Dean,
and accompanied only with a page, he came to a large house, “like
the drinking houses of which the English have one in every parish,
called in English gild-houses,” perhaps an error for guest-houses
(_quales Anglici in singulis singulas habebant diocesibus bibitorias,
ghildhus Anglice dictas_). It seems not improbable, also, that the
ruins of Roman villas and small stations, which stood by the sides
of roads, were often roughly repaired or modified, so as to furnish
a temporary shelter for travellers who carried provisions, &c., with
them, and could therefore lodge themselves without depending upon the
assistance of others. A shelter of this kind--from its consisting of
bare walls, a mere shelter against the inclemency of the storm--might
be termed a _ceald-hereberga_ (cold harbour), and this would account
for the great number of places in different parts of England, which
bear this name, and which are almost always on Roman sites and near
old roads. The explanation is supported by the circumstance that the
name is found among the Teutonic nations on the continent--the German
_Kalten-herberg_--borne by some inns at the present day.
The deficiency of such comforts for travellers in Anglo-Saxon times was
compensated by the extensive practice of hospitality, a virtue which
was effectually inculcated by the customs of the people as well as by
the civil and ecclesiastical laws. When a stranger presented himself
at a Saxon door, and asked for board and lodging, the man who refused
them was looked upon with contempt by his countrymen. In the seventh
century, as we learn from the Pœnitentiale of archbishop Theodore,
the refusal to give lodging to a stranger (_quicunque hospitem non
receperit in domum suam_) was considered worthy of ecclesiastical
censure. And in the Ecclesiastical Institutes, drawn up at a later
period, and printed in the collection of Anglo-Saxon laws, it is stated
that “It is also very needful to every mass-priest, that he diligently
exhort and teach his parishioners that they be hospitable, and not
refuse their houses to any wayfaring man, but do for his comfort, for
love of God, what they then will or can; ... but let those who, for
love of God, receive every stranger, desire not any worldly reward.”
Bede describes as the first act of “the custom of hospitality” (_mos
hospitalitatis_) the washing of the stranger’s feet and hands; they
then offered him refreshment, and he was allowed to remain two nights
without being questioned, after which period the host became answerable
for his character. The ecclesiastical laws limited the hospitality to
be shown to a priest to one night, because if he remained longer it was
a proof that he was neglecting his duties.
Taverns of an ordinary description, where there was probably no
accommodation for travellers, seem to have been common enough under the
Anglo-Saxons and it must be confessed that there seems to be too much
reason for believing that people spent a great deal of their leisure
time in them; even the clergy appear to have been tempted to frequent
them. In the Ecclesiastical Institutes, quoted above, mass-priests are
forbidden to eat or drink at ale-houses (_æt ceap-ealothelum_). And it
is stated in the same curious record that, “It is a very bad custom
that many men practise, both on Sundays and also other mass-days; that
is, that straightways at early morn they desire to hear mass, and
immediately after the mass, from early morn the whole day over, in
drunkenness and feasting they minister to their belly, not to God.”
Merchant travellers seem, in general, to have congregated together in
parties or small caravans, both for companionship and as a measure of
mutual defence against robbers. In such cases they probably carried
tents with them, and formed little encampments at night, like the
pedlars and itinerant dealers in later times. Men who travelled alone
were exposed to other dangers besides that of robbery; for a solitary
wanderer was always looked upon with suspicion, and he was in danger
himself of being taken for a thief. He was compelled, therefore, by
his own interest and by the law of the land, to show that he had no
wish to avoid observation; one of the earlier Anglo-Saxon codes of
laws, that of king Wihtræd, directed that “if a man come from afar, or
a stranger go out of the high way, and he then neither shout nor blow
a horn, he is to be accounted a thief, either to be slain, or to be
redeemed.”
[Illustration: _No. 52. Taking Toll._]
So prevalent, indeed, was theft and unfair dealing among our
Anglo-Saxon forefathers, and so much litigation and unjust persecution
arose from disputed claims to property which had been, or was pretended
to have been, purchased, that it was made illegal to buy or sell
without witnesses. It would be easy to multiply examples of robbery
and plunder from Anglo-Saxon writers; but I will only state that,
according to the Ely history, some merchants from Ireland, having
come to Cambridge in the time of king Edgar, to offer their wares for
sale, perhaps at the annual festivities of the Beorna-wyl, mentioned
above, a _priest_ of the place was guilty of stealing a part of their
merchandise. We know but little of the trades and forms of commercial
dealings of the Anglo-Saxons; but we may take our leave of the period
of which we have been hitherto treating, with a few figures relating
to money matters, from the Anglo-Saxon manuscript of the Psalms (MS.
Harl. No. 603). The cut No. 52 represents, apparently, a man in the
market, or at the gates of a city, taking toll for merchandise. The
scales are for weighing, not the merchandise, but the money. The word
_pund_, or pound, implies that the money was reckoned by weight; and
the word _mancus_, another term for a certain sum of money, is also
considered to have been a weight. Anglo-Saxon writings frequently speak
of money as given by weight. Our cut No. 53 is a representation of the
merchant, or the toll-taker, seated before his account book, with his
scales hanging to the desk. In the first of these cuts, a man holds
the bag or purse, in which the money received for toll or merchandise
is deposited. The cut No. 54 represents the receiver pouring the money
out of his bag into the _cyst_, or chest, in which it is to be locked
up and kept in his treasury. It is hardly necessary to say that there
were no banking-houses among the Anglo-Saxons. The chest, or coffer,
in which people kept their money and other valuables, appears to have
formed part of the furniture of the chamber, as being the most private
apartment; and it may be remarked that a rich man’s wealth usually
consisted much more in jewels and valuable plate than in money.
[Illustration: _No. 53. A Money Taker._]
[Illustration: _No. 54. Putting Treasure by._]
We cannot but remark how little change the manners and the sentiments
of our Saxon forefathers underwent during the long period that we
are in any way acquainted with them. During the reign of Edward
the Confessor, Norman fashions were introduced at court, but
their influence on the nation at large appears to have been very
trifling. Even after the Norman conquest the English manners and
fashions retained their hold on the people, and at later periods
they continually re-appear to assert their natural rights among the
descendants of the Anglo-Saxons.