and most frequent occurrence. It should however be borne in mind that
there are two separate uses of this word, one a more abstract one, in
which it is capable of being used in the plural, and which may generally
be rendered _eventus_[735], another more personal, similar to the
Oldsaxon _Wurth_, and in which it never occurs but in the singular[736].
In the following most remarkable passage the heathen and Christian
thoughts are strangely mingled, Wierd being placed in actual apposition
with God,
swá he hyra má wólde
nefne him witig God,
Wyrd forstóde,
⁊ ðæs mannes mód[737].
“As he would more of them had not wise God, Wierd forstood him, and the
man’s courage.” How very heathen the whole would be, were we only to
conceive the word _God_ an interpolation, which is highly probable;
nefne him witig—Wyrd forstóde[738]! The following examples will show the
use of Wyrd:—“hine Wyrd fornam,”—him _Wierd_ ravished away[739]: just as
in other passages we have guð fornam[740], Wíg ealle fornam[741], swylt
fornam[742], deað fornam[743]. “Wyrd ungemete neáh[744],”— _Wierd_ was
immeasurably near him; as in the Oldsaxon passages above cited, and as
Deað ungemete neáh[745]. “Ac unc sceal weorðan æt wealle, swá unc Wyrd
geteóð, métod manna gehwǽs[746],”—it shall befal us as _Wierd_ decideth,
the lord of every man. “Swá him Wyrd ne gescráf[747],”—_Wierd_ did not
appoint. “Ealle Wyrd forsweóp[748],”—_Wierd_ has swept away. “Ús seó
wyrd scýðeð, heard and hetegrim[749],”—us doth _Wierd_ pursue, hard and
grim in hate.
-----
Footnote 735:
Ne wæs wyrd ðágen
ðæt he má móste
manna cynnes
þicgean ofer ða niht. (Beów. l. 1462.)
wyrd ne cúðon. (Ibid. l. 2467.)
Footnote 736:
One exception to be hereafter noticed seems more apparent than real.
If however it be taken in its fullest and ordinary grammatical sense,
it will show that all three or more sisters were in contemplation, and
that the name of the eldest had become a general expression for them
all.
Footnote 737:
Beów. l. 2104.
Footnote 738:
Ibid. l. 2411.
Footnote 739:
Ibid. l. 2240.
Footnote 740:
Ibid. l. 2154.
Footnote 741:
Ibid. l. 2872.
Footnote 742:
Ibid. l. 4234, 4468.
Footnote 743:
Ibid. l. 4836.
Footnote 744:
Ibid. l. 5453.
Footnote 745:
Ibid. l. 5048.
Footnote 746:
This is a most remarkable passage, for Wyrd is distinctly called
Metod, a word generally appropriated to God; but I am disposed to
think that Metten, another word for Fate, was uppermost in the poet’s
mind,—perhaps found in some heathen copy of the poem. “Ða gráman
mettena,” _saevae parcae_. Boet. p. 161. (Rawl.)
Footnote 747:
Beów. l. 5145.
Footnote 748:
Beów. l. 5624.
Footnote 749:
Cod. Vercel. Anal. l. 3121.
-----
These examples will suffice to show how thoroughly personal the
conception of _Wierd_ remained; and in this respect there is no
difference whatever between the practice in Beówulf and in the more
professedly Christian poems of the Exeter and Vercelli codices, or
Cædmon. But one peculiarity remains to be noticed, which connects our
_Wierd_ in the most striking manner with the heathen goddesses
generally, and the Scandinavian Nornir particularly. We have seen that
_Wierd_ opposes, that she stands close to the doomed warrior, that she
ravishes him away, that she sweeps away the power of men, that she
decides or appoints the event, that she is hard and cruel and pursues
her victims. But she also _weaves_, weaves the web of destiny, as we can
say even to this day without violence. It is necessary to give examples
of this expression: “Me ðæt wyrd gewæf[750],”—_Wierd_ wove that for me;
similar to which is, “Ac him dryhten forgeaf wígspéda gewiofu[751],”—but
the Lord gave him the weft of victory; where undoubtedly an earlier
weaving Wyrd was thought of. “Ðonne seó þrag cymeð, wefen
wyrd-stafum[752],”—when the time cometh, woven with _wierd_-staves, or
letters, probably _runes_. There is a remarkable passage in the same
collection[753], “Wyrmas mec ne áwǽfon, Wyrda cræftum, ða ðe geolo
godwebb geatwum frætwað,”—Worms wove me not, with the skill of _Wierds_,
those namely which the yellow silk for garments beautifully form. Here
weaving is especially put forward as that in which _Wierd_ excels, her
own peculiar craft and business[754].
-----
Footnote 750:
Cod. Exon. p. 355.
Footnote 751:
Beów. l. 1386.
Footnote 752:
Cod. Exon. p. 183.
Footnote 753:
Ibid. p. 417.
Footnote 754:
I am almost inclined to think the words searorúna gespon, _the web of
various runes_, merely a periphrasis for wyrd, taken in the abstract
sense of _event_. Cod. Ex. p. 347.
-----
Spinning and weaving are the constant occupation of Teutonic goddesses
and heroines: Holda and Bertha spin[755], and so do all the
representatives of these goddesses in popular tradition even down to the
fairies. But the Valkyriur or Shieldmays also weave, and in this
function, as well as their immediate action in the battle-field, as
choosers of the slain[756], they have some points of contact with the
Norns and Wyrd[757]. Gray has transferred to our language from the Nials
Saga a fine poem[758] which throws some light upon the weaving of the
Valkyriur, the wígspéda gewiofu. The Anglosaxon belief in the
Shieldmaidens comes to us indeed in a darkened form, yet we can hardly
doubt that it survived. The word Wælcyrge occurs in glossaries to
explain _Bellona_, the goddess of war, and one gloss calls eyes
Wælcyrigean, _gorgonei_, terrible as those of Gorgo; the flashing of the
eyes was very probably one mark of a Wælcyrge in the old belief[759], as
she floated or rode above the closing ranks of battle. In the
superstitions of a later period however we find a clear allusion to
these supernatural maidens. A spell preserved in a Harleian
manuscript[760] contains the following passages:
Hlúde wǽon hí lá hlúde, ðá hý
ofer ðone hlǽw ridon;
wǽron anmóde, ðá hý
ofer land ridon.
“Loud, lo! loud were they, as they rode over the hill: bold were they,
as they rode over the land.”
Stód under linde
under leóhtum scylde
ðǽr ða mihtigan wíf
hyra mægen berǽddon,
and hý gyllende
gáras sendon.
“I stood beneath my linden shield, beneath my light shield, where the
mighty women exercised their power, and sent the yelling javelins!”
Another spell from a MS. in Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, appears
to name them more distinctly:
Sitte ge, sígewíf,
sígað tó eorðan,
næfre ge wilde
tó wuda fleógan;
beó ge swá gemindige
mínes gódes,
swá bið manna gehwilc
metes and éðeles.
-----
Footnote 755:
“As tems ou Berte filait,” i. e. in a period anterior to the memory of
man: in the days of heathendom, of the _goddess_ Bertha, not the
queen.
Footnote 756:
Wælcyrige is derived from Wæl _the slain_ and ceósan _to choose_.
Footnote 757:
I do not know whether the expression Hine Wyrd gecéas, can be found in
Saxon poetry; but ceósan is a very common word in phrases denoting
death, though by Christian poets transferred to the doomed hero, from
the god or goddess: ǽr ðon forðcure, wintrum wæl reste. Cædm. p. 99.
“Priusquam annis [i. e. vita] praetulerit mortiferam quietem.”
Footnote 758:
The Fatal sisters. See vol. i. p. 70, Mitford’s edition.
Footnote 759:
When Ðorr visits Ðrymr under the disguise of Freya, the giant is
suspicious of the flashing eyes which he sees under the veil. Loki
explains them by the sleeplessness arising from Freya’s desire for the
giant’s embraces.
Laut und línu
lysti at kyssa;
en hann útan stökk
endlangan sal:
“Hwí eru öndótt
augu Freyju?
þikki mér or augum
eldr of brenna!”
Sat in alsnotra
ambótt fyrir,
er orð um fann
við jötuns máli:
“Svaf vætr Freyja
átta nóttum,
svá var hon óðfús
í jötunheima.”
Hamarsheimt. xxvii. xxviii.
Footnote 760:
MS. Harl. 585, fol. 186.
-----
“Sit, ye victorious women (or women of victory) descend to earth, never
fly ye wildly to the wood: be ye as mindful of good to me, as every man
is of food and landed possession.” Grimm has remarked with great
justice[761] that the sígewíf here recalls the names of Wælcyrian,
Sigrdrífa, Sigrún and Sigrlinn. I certainly see in Sigewíf, _women who
give victory_; and the allusion to the _wild_ flight and the _wood_ are
both essentially characteristic of the Wælcyrian, whom Saxo Grammaticus
calls _feminae_ and _nymphae sylvestres_. For many examples of this
peculiar character, it is sufficient to refer to the Deutsche
Mythologie[762].
-----
Footnote 761:
D. Myth. p. 402. He cites this spell, but proposes on grammatical
grounds to read _wille_ for _wilde_. If any change is necessary I
should prefer _fleógen_.
Footnote 762:
Deut. Myth. p. 401, _seq._
-----
CREATION AND DESTRUCTION.—The cosmogony of the Pentateuch was
necessarily adopted by the Saxon converts; yet not so entirely as to
exclude all the traditions of heathendom. In the mythology of the
Northern nations, the creation of the world occupied an important place:
its details are recorded in some of the most striking lays of the
earlier Edda; and several of them appear unconsciously to have acted
upon the minds of our Christian poets. The genius of the Anglosaxons
does not indeed seem to have led them to the adoption of those energetic
and truly imaginative forms of thought which the Scandinavians probably
derived from the sterner natural features that surrounded them: the rude
rocks and lakes of Norway and Sweden, the volcanoes, hot springs, ice
plains and snow-covered mountains of Iceland, readily moulded the
Northmen to a different train of thought from that which satisfied the
dwellers in the marshlands of the Elbe and the fat plains of Britain.
But as in the main it cannot be doubted that the heathendom of both
races was the same, so even in many modes of expression we meet with a
resemblance which can hardly be accidental. Like almost every other
people, the Northmen considered a gigantic chaos to have preceded the
world of order. While the giant Ymer lived, the earth was “without form
and void.” Listen to the words of the Vaulu Spá, or Prophetess’s Song:
Ár var alda When Ymer dwelt here,
þar er Ýmir bygði: 'twas the dawn of time:
vara sandr né sær cool streams were not,
né svalar unnir: neither sands, nor seas:
jörð fannsk æva earth was not
né uppkiminn, nor o’er it heaven,
gap var ginnunga, yawned the gap,
en gras hvergi[763]. and grass was nowhere.
The sons of Bur however, Oþinn, Vile and Ve, created the vast Midgard,
or realm of earth:
Sól skein sunnan The sun shone southward
á salar steina on the stone halls,
þá var grand gróin then was earth grown
grœnum lauki[764]. with green produce.
The constellations however as yet had no appointed course:
Sól þat ne vissi But the sun knew not
hvar hon sali átti, where her seat should be,
máni þat ne vissi and the moon knew not
hvat hann megins átti, what his might should be,
stjörnur þat ne vissu planets knew not
hvar þær staði áttu[765]. where their place should be.
So the holy Gods went to council, and divided the seasons, giving names
to night and noon and morning, to _undern_ and evening, that the years
might be reckoned[766].
-----
Footnote 763:
Vaulu Spá, st. 3.
Footnote 764:
Ibid. st. 4.
Footnote 765:
Ibid. st. 5.
Footnote 766:
Ibid. st. 6.
-----
The construction of the world out of the fragments of Ymer’s body, the
doctrine of the ash Yggdrasil, and of wondrous wells beneath its roots,
could of course find no echo here, after the conversion. But it is very
remarkable how nearly the description of creation given in Cædmon
sometimes coincides with the old remains of heathendom:
Ne wæs hér ðágiet There had not here as yet
nymðe heólstersceado save cavern shade
wiht geworden, aught existed,
ac ðes wída grund but this wide abyss
stód deóp and dim, stood deep and dim,
drihtne fremde, strange to its lord,
ídel and unnyt; idle and useless;
on ðone eágnm wlát on which looked with his eyes
stíðfrihð cining, the king firm of mood
and ða stowe beheóld and beheld the place
dreáma leáse. devoid of joys.
Geseah deorc gesweorc He saw the dark cloud
sémian sinnihte, lour in endless night,
sweart under roderum, swart under heaven,
wonn and wéste ... dusky and desert ...
folde wæs ðágyt the earth was yet
græs ungréne; not green with grass;
gársecg þeahte but ocean covered
sweart synnihte dark in endless night
wíde and síde far and wide
wonne wægas[767]. the dusky ways.
-----
Footnote 767:
Cædm. p. 7, l. 8 _seq._
-----
Then follows the creation of light, the separation of evening and
morning, and the production of organic life, as in the first chapter of
Genesis. The Wída grund, or _vast abyss_, is the Ginnunga gap, _yawning
gulf_, of the Edda, and a very remarkable parallel lies in the assertion
that there was no _grass_ anywhere to make green the earth.
The world was created out of the portions of Ymer’s body; but it seems
to be a remnant of ancient heathendom when we find in later times a
tradition that Man was created out of the great natural portions of the
world itself. An ancient Frisic manuscript quoted by Grimm in Haupt’s
Altdeutsche Blätter[768] says, “God scóp thene éresta meneska, thet was
Adam, fon achta wendem; thet bénete fon tha sténe, thet flásk fon there
erthe, thet blód fon tha wetere, tha herta fon tha winde, thene thochta
fon tha wolken, thene suét fon tha dáwe, tha lokkar fon tha gerse, tha
ágene fon there sunna, and tha blérem on thene helga óm.” That is,—God
created him of eight things: his bones from stone, his flesh from earth,
his blood from water, his heart from wind, his thought from cloud, his
sweat from dew, his hair from the grass, his eyes from the sun, and then
breathed into him the breath of life. In the prose Salomon and Saturn we
are also told that Adam was created of eight pounds by weight: a pound
of earth from whence his flesh; a pound of fire, whence his red and hot
blood; a pound of wind, whence his breathing; a pound of cloud, whence
his unsteadiness of mood; a pound of grace, whence his stature and
growth; a pound of blossoms, whence the variety of his eyes; a pound of
dew, whence his sweat; and a pound of salt, whence his salt tears[769].
-----
Footnote 768:
Vol. i. Part i. p. 1.
Footnote 769:
See the Authors edition, p. 181, and the notes at p. 194.
-----
But a much more striking proof of heathendom lies in the Anglosaxon
belief that after the destruction of this creation a more beautiful one
would arise; not only a metaphysical kingdom of heaven, but a concrete
world like our own, on a more imposing and glorious scale. It was the
belief of the Northmen that in the closing evening of the ages, the
Ragna-rauk, or twilight of the Gods, the old Titanic powers would burst
their fetters; Loki, the Northern Satan, would be released from his
bondage; Midgard’s orm, the serpent that surrounds the world, would rise
in his giant fury; the wolf Fenrir would snap his chain and move against
the gods; the ship Naglfar, made of the nails of the dead, and steered
by Loki, would convey the sons of Muspelheim to Vigrid, the plain on
which this heathen Armageddon was to be fought: at their head the
terrible Surtr, the black, the destroyer of the gods, beneath whose
sword of fire the whole world should perish.
Kjóll ferr austan, Eastward the ship
koma munu Muspells shall shape its journey,
um laug lýðir, Muspell’s sons
en Loki stýrir[770]. the sea shall travel,
o’er the lakes shall
Loki steer her.
-----
Footnote 770:
Vaulu Spá, st. 50.
-----
Oþinn, Thórr, and the other gods shall perish, but not unrevenged: the
wolf and the serpent will fall, one by the hands of Viðarr, Oþinn’s son,
the other under the terrible battle-maul of Thórr. The sun and moon and
earth will be destroyed, and the ash Yggrdasil wither under the flames
of Surtr.
Sól tekr sortna, Black wanes the sun,
sígr fold í mar, in waves the earth shall sink,
hverfa af himni from heaven shall fall
heiðar stjörnur; the friendly stars;
geisar eimr round the tree
við aldrnára, red fire shall rustle,
leikr hár hiti high heat play
við himin sjálfan[771] against the heaven.
But the Gods will be found again in Iðavelli; the earth will arise again
from the ocean; the sun that perished will have left a yet more
beauteous daughter to perform her task; the deities will remember their
ancient power, and the secrets of the great god; the golden tablets will
be found in the grass; Baldr, the slain god, will arise from the tomb;
Havdr, that unconsciously slew him, will return with him from the realms
of Hel, the goddess of the dead. Viðarr and Vale, sons, or rather new
births of Oþinn; Mode and Magne, sons of Thórr, will survive the
universal destruction; Allfather’s glorious kingdom will be renewed, and
the power of death and evil vanish for ever.
Sér hon uppkoma Then sees she rise
öðru sinni, a second time
jörð or œgi the world from ocean
iðjagrœna[772]. wondrous green.
Eína dóttur One bright child shall
berr Álfröðull bear Álfröðull,
áðr hana Fenrir fari; ere her form doth
sú skal ríða, Fenrir ruin;
þá er regin deyja, thus shall go,
móður brautir mær[773]. when gods have perished,
the maiden on
her mother’s journey.
Finnask Æsir Æsir meet
á Iðavelli, in Iðavelli,
ok um moldþinur doom with power
mátkan dœma, the great disasters,
ok minnask þar there remember
á megindóma, mighty judgements,
ok á fimbultýs and Fimbultýrs
fornar rúnar. former secrets.
Þar munu eptir After, shall be
undrsamligar all together
gullnar töflur found in the grass
í grasi finnask, the golden tablets,
þærs í árdaga which in time past
áttar höfðu possessed among them
fólkvaldr goða gods that ruled
ok Fjölnis kind. the race of Odin.
Munu ósánír Then unsown
akrar vaxa, the swath shall flourish
böls mun alls batna, all bale mend, and
Baldr mun koma; back come Baldr:
búa þeir Höðr ok Baldr with him Höðr dwell
Hropts sigtóptir in Hropter’s palace,
vel valtivar[774]. shrines of gods
the great and holy.
Sal sér hon standa There sees she stand
sólu fegra, than sunlight fairer,
gulli þakðan Gimli’s hall
á Gimli: with gold all covered:
þar skolu dyggvar there the just shall
dróttir byggja, joy for ever,
ok um aldrdaga and in pleasure
ynðis njóta[775]. pass the ages.
-----
Footnote 771:
Vaulu Spá, st. 56.
Footnote 772:
Ibid. st. 57.
Footnote 773:
Wafþrudnis Mál, st. 47. Álfröðul is a name of the Sun, and is said to
denote _divine splendour_. Edd. Lex. Myth. in voc.
Footnote 774:
Vaulu Spá, st. 57, 58, 59, 60.
-----
The conviction that the virtuous would rejoice with God in a world of
happiness was of course not derived by our forefathers merely from their
heathendom; but to this we may unhesitatingly refer their belief, that
after doomsday the sun and moon would be restored with greater
splendour. The Saxon Menology[776] says very distinctly:
“At doomsday, when our Lord shall renew all creatures, and all the race
of men shall rise again, and never more commit sin, then will the sun
shine seven times brighter than she now doth, and she will never set;
and the moon will shine as the sun now doth, and never will wane or wax,
but stand for ever on his course[777].” That this belief was not unknown
in Germany may be argued from an expression of Freidank,
Got himel und erde lát zergán,
unt wil dernách ein schoenerz hán[778].
Dim and fragmentary as these rays of light may be which straggle to us
through the veils of bygone ages, it is impossible not to recognize in
them traces of that primæval faith which teaches the responsibility of
man, the rule of just and holy beings superior to himself, and a future
existence of joy and sorrow, the ultimate consequence of human actions.
With what amount of distinctness this great truth may have been placed
before their eyes, we cannot tell, but it is enough that we see it
admitted in one of the most thoroughly heathen poems of the Edda, and
confirmed by an Anglosaxon tradition totally independent of
Christianity. Weak as it is while unsupported by the doctrine of a
gracious Redeemer, it is not wholly inoperative upon the moral being of
men; and its reception among the nations of the North must have tended
to prepare them for the doctrine which in the fulness of time was to
supersede their vague and powerless desires by the revelation of the
crucified Saviour.
-----
Footnote 775:
Vaulu Spá, st. 62.
Footnote 776:
MS. Corp. Christi, No. 179.
Footnote 777:
See Salomon and Saturn, p. 177. It may be observed here that the
feminine gender of the sun, and masculine of the moon, have their
origin in our heathen mythology.
Footnote 778:
Freydanck, Beschied. p. 8.
-----
HEROES.—It now remains that we should bestow a few words upon the heroic
names which figure in the Epopœa of the North, and which probably in
many cases belong to the legends and the worship of gods now forgotten,
or which at least represent those gods in their heroic form and
character; even as the Iliad in Achilles may celebrate only one form of
the Dorian Apollo, and the legends of Cadmus and Theseus may be echoes
from an earlier cult of Jupiter and Neptune.
The hero Scyld or Sceldwa[779] has been mentioned as the godlike
progenitor of the Scyldingas, the royal race of Denmark; but he also
appears among the mythical ancestors of Wóden, in the genealogy of
Wessex. It is a singular fact that the Anglosaxons alone possess the
fine mythus of this hero; the opening division or canto of Beówulf
relates of him that he was exposed as a child in a ship upon the ocean;
a costly treasure accompanied the sleeping infant as he floated to the
shores of the Gardanes, whose king he became; after reigning gloriously
and founding a race of kings, he died, and was again sent forth in his
ship, surrounded with treasures, to go into the unknown world, from
which he came; he came to found a royal race[780], and having done so,
he departs and nothing more is known of him. That this mythus was deeply
felt in England appears from its being referred to even by the later
chroniclers: Æðelweard[781] and William of Malmesbury[782] mention it at
length, and a desire to engraft a national upon a biblical tradition not
only causes Sceaf to be called by some authors the son of Shem, but
leads to the assertion of the Saxon chronicle that Sceaf was the son of
Noah, born in the ark[783], in obvious allusion to the miraculous
exposure on the waters. The mention of Scani by Æðelweard may be taken
in connection with a Norse tradition that Skjold was Skanunga goþ, a god
of the Scanings. An Anglosaxon riddle in the Codex Exoniensis[784], and
of which the answer seems to me to be only _a shield_, concludes with
the very remarkable words,
nama mín is mǽre, mighty is my name,
hæleðum gifre, rapacious among men,
and hálig sylf. and itself holy.
The second line seems to exclude the supposition of there being any
reference to Almighty God, though Scyld, like Helm, is one of his names,
examples of which are numerous in all Anglosaxon poetry. There are one
or two places in England which bear the name of this god or hero: these
are Scyldes treów[785], Scyldmere[786], and Scyldes heáfda[787]; but
except in the genealogy of Wessex and the tradition recorded by
Æðelweard and William of Malmesbury, there is no record of Sceaf.
Footnote 779:
From which form we must conclude for the reading Scyldu (as Wudu,
Duru).
Footnote 780:
ðone God sende whom God sent
folce tó frófre, to the people for their comfort,
fyrenþearfe ongeat the evil need he understood
ða híe ǽr drugon which they before had suffered
aldorleáse. while without a king.
Beów. l. 26.
Footnote 781:
Æðelw. lib. iii. He attributes the legend to Sceaf, Scyld’s father;
his words are: “Ipse Scef cum uno dromone advectus est in insula
oceani quae dicitur Scani, armis circumdatus, eratque valde recens
puer, et ab incolis illius terrae ignotus; attamen ab eis suscipitur,
et ut familiarem diligenti animo eum custodierunt, et post in regem
eligunt: de cuius prosapia ordinem trahit Athulf rex.”
Footnote 782:
William of Malmesbury (G. R. ii. 116) adds another peculiarity to the
legend, which however he gives to Sceaf, Scyld’s father; he says,
“Iste, ut ferunt, in quandam insulam Germaniae Scandzam, de qua
Jordanes historiographus Gothorum loquitur, appulsus, navi sine
remige, puerulus, posito ad caput frumenti manipulo, dormiens, ideoque
Sceaf nuncupatus, ab hominibus regionis illius pro miraculo exceptus,
et sedulo nutritus, adulta aetate regnavit in oppido quod tunc
Slasvic, nunc vero Haithebi appellatur. Est autem regio illa Anglia
Vetus dicta, unde Angli venerunt in Britanniam, inter Saxones et
Gothos constituta.” Wendover (Flor. Hist.) copies Malmesbury, with the
explanation of the name Sceafa, from Sceaf a sheaf of corn; others
derived it from scúfan, _trudere_, “quia fortunae commissus.” Die
Stammtafel der Westsachsen, p. 33.
Footnote 783:
“Se wæs geboren in ðǽre earce Noes.” Chron. Sax. 855.
Footnote 784:
Cod. Exon. p. 407.
Footnote 785:
Cod. Dipl. No. 436.
Footnote 786:
Ibid. Nos. 356, 762.
Footnote 787:
Ibid. No. 721.
-----
As in the poem of Beówulf, Scyld is said to have a son called Beówulf
from whom the kings of Sleswig are descended, so in the genealogy of
Wessex, Scyld is followed by Beaw: there is some uncertainty in the form
of the name, but upon comparison of all the different versions given by
various chroniclers, we may conclude that it was Beówa or Beów, a word
equivalent to Beówulf. The original divinity of this person is admitted
by Grimm, but he suffers himself to be misled by some over-skilful
German lexicographer who has added _Beewolf_ to the list of English
names for the woodpecker, and would render Beówulf as a sort of Latin
Picus. I am not aware that any bird in England was ever called the
_beewolf_, or that there are any superstitions connected with the
woodpecker in England, as there are in Germany; the cuckoo and the
magpie are our birds of augury. When Grimm then declares himself
disposed not to give up the termination -_wulf_ in the name, he has only
the authority of the poem on his side, in defence of his theory: against
which must be placed every other list or genealogy; and it seems to me
that these are strongly confirmed by the occurrence of a place called,
not Beówulfes hám, but Beówan hám[788], in immediate connection with
another named Grendles mere[789]: Whatever the name, this hero was
looked upon as the eponymus of various royal races, and this, though the
names which have survived are obviously erroneous[790], is distinctive
of his real character.
-----
Footnote 788:
Cod. Dipl. No. 353.
Footnote 789:
Ibid.
Footnote 790:
Stammtafel der Westsachsen, p. 18 _seq._
-----
There are various other heroes mentioned in the poem of Beówulf and in
the Traveller’s Song, some remembrance of which is still preserved in
local names in various parts of England. A few words may not be
misplaced respecting them. In the first-named poem, the hero’s lord and
suzerain is invariably named Hygelác; after whose death Beówulf himself
becomes king of the Geátas. As Hygelác is said to have perished in fight
against the Franks, and as history records the fall of a Danish king
Chochilachus in a predatory excursion into the Frankish territory about
the beginning of the seventh century[791], Outzen, Leo and others have
identified the two in fact as well as name, and drawn conclusions as to
the mythical hero, from the historical prince. The coincidence is not
conclusive: if Hygelác’s name were already mythical in the seventh
century, it may easily have been given to any leader who ventured a
plundering expedition into the Frankish territory, especially as the
warlike records of an earlier Hygelác would be certain to contain some
account of Frankish forays: nor was Hygelác, in Danish Hugleikr[792], by
any means an uncommon name. On the other hand, if we admit the
historical allusion, we must assign a date to, at any rate, that episode
of the poem which is hardly consistent with its general character. I am
therefore inclined to think that in this instance, as in so many others,
an accidental resemblance has been too much relied upon: it is in fact
quite as likely (or even more likely) that the historian should have
been indebted to the legend, than that the poet should have derived his
matter from history. It does seem probable that Hygelác enjoyed a
mythical character among the Germans: in the “Altdeutsche Blätter” of
Moriz Haupt[793], we find the following statement, taken from a MS. of
the tenth century. “De Getarum rege Huiglauco mirae magnitudinis.—Et
sunt mirae magnitudinis, ut rex Huiglaucus, qui imperavit Getis et a
Francis occisus est, quem equus a duodecimo anno portare non potuit,
cuius ossa in Rheni fluminis insula, ubi in oceanum prorumpit, reservata
sunt et de longinquo venientibus pro miraculo ostenduntur.”
-----
Footnote 791:
Leo, in his Beowulf, p. 5, cites Gregor. Turon. iii. 3, and the Gest.
Reg. Francorum, cap. 19, for the details of Chochilach’s invasion and
death.
Footnote 792:
The name Huhlék, given in Langebeke, and by Geijer, from the Ynglinga
Saga, as Hugleck. Hist. Swed. p. 378, tab. ii.
Footnote 793:
Book v. part i. p. 10.
-----
But Hygelác is not known in Germany only: even in England we have traces
of him in local names: thus Hygeláces geát[794], which, as the name was
never borne by an Anglosaxon,—so far at least as we know,—speaks
strongly for his mythical character. That the fortunes, under similar
circumstances, of a historical prince, of the same name or not of the
same name, should have become mixed up with an earlier legend, is by no
means unusual or surprising.
-----
Footnote 794:
Cod. Dipl. No. 566.
-----
Another hero of the Beówulf cycle is Hnæf the Hócing, whose fate is
described in a fine episode[795], and is connected with the poem called
“The battle of Finnesburh[796].” Of him too England has something to
tell: I find a place was called Hnæfes scylf[797], and further that
there was a Hóces byrgels[798], obviously not a Christian burial-place,
a Hóces ham[799], and a Hócing mǽd[800]. But unless resemblances greatly
deceive us, we must admit that this hero was not entirely unknown to the
Franks also; Charlemagne’s wife Hiltikart, a lady of most noble blood
among the Swæfas or Sueves (“nobilissimi generis Suavorum puella”) was a
near relation of Kotofrit, duke of the Alamanni[801]: in her genealogy
occur the names Huocingus and Nebi in immediate succession, and it seems
difficult not to see in these Hócing and Hnæf. If, as has been
suggested, the Hócings were Chauci or Frisians, their connexion with the
Sueves must be of an antiquity almost transcending the limits of
history, and date from those periods when the Frisians were neighbours
of the Swæfas upon the Elbe, and long before these occupied the
highlands of Germany, long in fact before the appearance of the Franks
in Gaul, under Chlodio.
-----
Footnote 795:
Beów. l. 2130 _seq._
Footnote 796:
Printed in the first volume of the author’s edition of Beówulf, p.
238.
Footnote 797:
Cod. Dipl. No. 595.
Footnote 798:
Ibid. No. 1267.
Footnote 799:
Ibid. No. 1142.
Footnote 800:
Ibid. No. 1091.
Footnote 801:
Thegan. vit. Hludov. Pertz, Monum. ii. 590, 591. Eginhart, § 18.
Pertz, Mon. ii. 452, 453.
-----
Among the heroes of heathen tradition are Wada, Weland and Eigil. All
three, so celebrated in the mythus and epos of Scandinavia and Germany,
have left traces in England. Of Wada the Traveller’s Song declares that
he ruled the Helsings[802]; and even later times had to tell of Wade’s
_boat_[803], in which the exact allusion is unknown to us: the
Scandinavian story makes him wade across the Groenasund, carrying his
son upon his shoulder; perhaps our tradition gave a different version of
this perilous journey. The names of places which record his name are not
numerous, but still such are found, thus Wadanbeorgas[804],
Wadanhlǽw[805]. It is otherwise, however, with his still more celebrated
son, Weland, the Wieland of German, Völundr of Norse and Galand of
French tradition. Weland is the most famous of smiths, and all good
swords are his work. In Beówulf, the hero when about to engage in a
perilous adventure, requests that if he falls his coat-of-mail may be
sent home, _Welandes geweorc_, either literally the work of Weland, or a
work so admirable that Weland might have made it.[806] Ælfred in his
Boetius[807] translates _fidelis ossa Fabricii_ by “ðæs wísan goldsmiðes
bán Welondes,” where, as Grimm[808] observes, the word Fabricius
(_faber_) may have led him to think of the most celebrated of smiths,
Weland. The use made by Sir W. Scott of Weland’s name must be familiar
to all readers of Kenilworth: from what has been said it will appear how
mistaken in many respects his view was. The place in Berkshire which
even yet in popular tradition preserves the name of _Wayland smith_, is
nevertheless erroneously called; the boundary of a Saxon charter names
it much more accurately Welandes smiððe, i. e. _Weland’s smithy_, his
workshop[809]. The legend of Weland, identical in many respects with
that of the Wilkina Saga and other Northern versions, is mentioned in
the Cod. Exon. p. 377. Here we find notice taken of his mutilation by
Niðaudr, the violence done by him to Bödhildr, and other acts of his
revenge[810], all in fact that is most important in this part of his
history. Grimm reminds me[811] that the Wilkina Saga makes Weland the
constructor of a wondrous boat, and that the act of the son may thus
have been transferred to the father, Weland’s boat to Wade.
-----
Footnote 802:
Line 44. See also Cod. Exon. pp. 320, 514. Ettmüller, Scópes wídsíð.
Footnote 803:
Chaucer once or twice refers to this in such a way as to show that the
expression was used in an obscene sense. Old women, he says, “connen
so moche craft in _Wades bote_.” Again of Pandarus:
“He song, he plaied, he told a _tale of Wade_.”
Troil. Cressid.
In this there seems to lie some allusion to what anatomists have
termed _fossa navicularis_, though what immediate connection there
could be with the mythical Wada, now escapes us. It is sufficiently
remarkable that the Greeks made a similar application of σκάφος.
ω παγκατάπυγον θἠμέτερον ἅπαν γένος·
οὐκ ἐτὸς ἀφ’ ἡμῶν εἰσὶν αἱ τραγῳδίαι.
οὐδὲν γὰρ ἐσμὲν πλὴν ποσειδῶν καὶ σκάφη.
Aristoph. Lysistr. 137.
Footnote 804:
Cod. Dipl. No. 55.
Footnote 805:
Ibid. No. 18.
Footnote 806:
Beów. l. 901
Footnote 807:
Boet. de Cons. ii.
Footnote 808:
D. Myth. p. 351.
Footnote 809:
Cod. Dipl. No. 1172.
Footnote 810:
Weland him be wurman
wræces cunnade
. . . . . . . . . .
siððan hine Niðhad on
néde legde
swoncre seonobande,
onsyllan mon.
. . . . . . . . . .
Beadohilde ne wæs
hyre bróðra deáð
on sefan swá sár
swá hyre sylfra þing,
ðæt heó gearolíce
ongieten hæfde
ðæt heó eácen wæs, etc.
Footnote 811:
D. Myth. p. 351.
-----
In the Northern tradition appears a brother of Weland, named Eigil or
Egil, who is celebrated as an archer, and to whom belongs the
wide-spread tale which has almost past into accredited history in the
case of William Tell; this tale given by Saxo Grammaticus to Toko, by
the Jomsvíkínga Saga to Palnatoki, and by other authorities to other
heroes from the twelfth till the very end of the fifteenth century, but
most likely of the very highest antiquity in every part of Europe, was
beyond doubt an English one also, and is repeated in the ballad of
William of Cloudesley: it is therefore probable that it belongs to a
much older cycle, and was as well known as the legends of Wada and
Weland, with which it is so nearly connected. Eigil would among the
Anglosaxons have borne the form of Ægel, and accordingly we find places
compounded with this name,—thus Æglesbyrig, now Aylesbury in
Buckinghamshire; Æglesford, now Aylsford in Kent; Ægleslona, in
Worcester[812]; Ægleswurð, now Aylsworth in Northamptonshire[813]; also
Ægleswyl; and lastly Aylestone in Leicestershire.
-----
Footnote 812:
Cod. Dipl. No. 549.
Footnote 813:
Ibid. Nos. 591, 423.
-----
The Wilkina Saga and the Scald’s Complaint already cited from the Codex
Exoniensis, lead us next to the legends of Ðeódríc (Dietrich von Bern)
and Eormenríc, (Hermanaríc), and through the latter to Sigfried and the
other heroes of the Nibelungen cycle. The heroic or even godlike
character of Dietrich has been well made out by Grimm[814], and the
historical Theodoric the Ostrogoth vanishes in his traditional
representative. The Anglosaxon poet evidently refers to the latter, not
indeed from the story he tells, but from the collocation of Ðeódríc
among merely mythical personages. Perhaps, as the whole scope of his
poem is to relate the misfortunes of the great and thus draw consolation
for his own, the thirty years’ residence in Mæringaburg may be
considered as a reference to Ðeódríc’s flight from before Otachar[815]
and long-continued exile. In a Saxon menology[816] of great antiquity,
the author, after stating the eighteenth of May to be the commemoration
of St. John, Pope and Martyr, goes on to say, that an anchoret on Lipari
told certain sailors how at a particular time he had seen king
Theodoric, ungirt, barefoot, and bound, led between St. John and St.
Finian, and by them hurled into the boiling crater of the neighbouring
island Vulcano. That on their return to Italy the sailors discovered by
comparison of dates that Theodoric died on the day on which the anchoret
noticed his punishment by the hands of his victims. The author expressly
tells it was Theodoricus, the king of the Goths in Ravenna; and he
concludes by saying, “That was Theodoricus the king whom we call
Ðeódríc,” which we can only understand by supposing him to allude to the
mythical Ðeódríc. Ælfred seems also to have known something of the
mythical Ðeódríc when he says, “he wæs Amaling,” a fact historically
true of the Ostrogoth Theodoric, but yet unlikely to have been contained
in Ælfred’s Latin authorities. The Traveller’s Song says[817], “Ðeódríc
weóld Froncum,” Theodoric ruled the Franks, but this I should rather
understand of one of the historical Merwingian kings, than of the
Ostrogoth.
-----
Footnote 814:
D. Myth. p. 346.
Footnote 815:
The Hiltibrants Lied says,
Hiltibrant haetti min fater. ih heittu Hadubrant.
forn her ostar gihueit. floh her Otachres nid.
hina mit Theotrihhe. enti sinero degano filu.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
sid Detrihhe. darba gistontum.
fateres mines, dat uuas so friuntlaos man.
For remarks on Ðeódríc’s exile see W. Grimm, Deutsche Heldensage, pp.
22, 24, 34, 36, 37, 201, 204.
Footnote 816:
MS. C. C. C. Cantab. No. 179. “On ðone eahtateóðan dæg ðæs monðes byð
Sce Johannes týd ðæs pápan ⁊ ðæs martyres, se gedyde þurh Godes myht
blyndum men gesyhðe. Ðone Johannes for ǽfstum [héht cwellan]
Theodoricus se wæs Gotena cyning in Rauenna ðǽre ceastre; ⁊ sum
wéstensetla on ðám ealonde ðe is nemned Liparus, he sæde sciplíðendum
mannum ðæt he gesáwe Johannes sáwle ðæs papan lǽdan ðone cyning ðe
hine ofslóh gebundenne on écum wítum. He cwæð, se Godes þeów, tó ðám
sciplíðendum: Girsan dæg on ða nigoðan tíd dæges, ðæt is on ðone nón,
Þeodricus wæs gelǽded ungyrd ⁊ unsceód ⁊ eác gebunden be ðám handum,
betweoh Johanne ðám pápan ⁊ Finianum ðám ealdormen, ⁊ he wæs fram heom
áworpen on byrnende seáð on ðysum neáh-ealande, ⁊ ðæt is nemned
Ulcania. And ða sciplíðende ða ðæt gehýredon, hig ymbhydelíce
ámearcodon ðone dæg, ⁊ him ðá cyrdon eft tó Etelwara mǽgðe, ðǽr hig
ðone cyning ǽr lyfigende forlǽton; ⁊ hig ðá eft hine ðǽr deádne
gemétton, ðý ylcan dæge ðe his wíte ðám Godes þeówe ætywed wæs. Ðæt
wæs swíðe riht ðæt he fram ðám twám mannum wǽre sended on ðæt éce fýr,
ðaðe he hér unrihtlíce ofslóh on ðisim life. Ðæt wæs Þeodoricus ðone
we nemnað Ðeódríc.” See further illustrations of this strange tale in
the Deutsche Heldensage, p. 38, where Otto of Freisingen is quoted,
but who does not give nearly so many details as the Anglosaxon legend.
Footnote 817:
Trav. Song, l. 47.
-----
The legends of Eormanríc were obviously familiar to the Anglosaxons: in
the so often quoted poem of the Traveller’s Song, this celebrated prince
is mentioned more than once, as well as in the poem which contains the
notices of Weland, Beadohild and Ðeódríc. The character given of him in
both these compositions denotes a familiarity with the details of his
history, as we find them almost universally in the Northern traditions,
and more particularly those of his wealth, his cruelty and his
treachery.
In Beówulf we have a somewhat further development of his history. We
there learn incidentally that Háma (the Ammius of Saxo Grammaticus)
carried off from him the Brósinga-mén or mythical collar of the goddess
Freya. There can be no doubt that this necklace, called in the Norse
traditions Mén Brísínga, is of a most thoroughly mythological
character[818], and any reference to it in Saxon poetry is welcome
evidence of ancient heathendom: moreover the Anglosaxon poet alone
mentions it in connection with Eormanríc. This peculiar feature is as
little known to the other Germanic nations as the beautiful legend of
Scyld Scéfing, the loves of Geát and Mǽðhild, the dragon-slaughter of
Sigmund, the wars of Hengest and Finn Folcwalding, or the noble epos of
Beówulf itself: unfortunately we have no detail as to the circumstances
under which the necklace of the goddess came into the possession of
Eormanríc.
-----
Footnote 818:
When Loki announced to Freya that Thórr would not recover his hammer
unless she married the giant who had become possessed of it, she
trembled with rage, so that the halls of the gods shook under her, and
the Mén Brísínga burst from her neck: again when Thórr disguises
himself in her distinctive dress, he does not forget the necklace,
Hamarsheimt, xiii. xv. xix. I am inclined to think the Saxon reading
erroneous, and that Brósinga is a mere error of copying. The meaning
of the word is obscure: Brising in Norse denotes a fierce flame, and
the name of the collar has been explained from its bright and burning
colour. Grimm suggests a derivation from a verb _brísan_ (found in
Middle German under the form _brísen_) _nodare_, _nodis_
_constringere_, in reference to the form of its links. But the main
difficulty in my opinion is found in the plural genitive of the
patronymic, and I would almost prefer the hypothesis of our having
entirely lost the lay which described its origin: others we certainly
have lost which had reference to it, as for instance Loki’s and
Heimdallr’s contention for it. Saxo Grammaticus has a story probably
about its origin (p. 13) which is totally unsatisfactory. Were the
Brísingas (sons of fire?) its first possessors or makers?
-----
The Traveller’s Song however has traces of many heroes who are closely
connected with the traditional cyclus of Eormanríc: among these are
Sifeca (the false Sibich of Germany) and Becca, the Bikki of the
corresponding Norse versions, whom it makes chieftain of the Baningas,
perhaps the “sons of mischief” from _Bana_. Háma, already named, and
Wudga, the Wittich and Heime of Germany, occur in the same poem: so also
the terrible Ætla, Attila the Hun, the Ætli of Scandinavia, the Etzel of
the Nibelungen cycle. In the same composition we find Gúðhere, king of
the Burgundians, the Norse Gunnar, and German Gunther; and Hagena,
probably the Norse Högni, and Hagen the murderer of Sigfried. The
Traveller’s Song, and the Scóp’s Complaint contain no mention of the
great hero of the Norse and German epos, Sigurdr Fafnisbani, Sigfried,
the betrothed of the Shieldmay Bryhyldur, the husband of the fairhaired
Chriemhilt.
All the more welcome to us is the episode in Beówulf, which not only
records the tale of Sigurdr, though under the name of his father
Sigmund, and makes particular mention of the dragon-slaughter
(Fafnis-bani)—which is a central point in the Norse tradition, although
hardly noticed at all in the Nibelungen Lied,—but also refers to the
fearful adventures which the Edda relates of the hero and his kinsman
Sinfiötli (Fitela) which appear totally unknown in Germany.
Having said thus much of the heroic personages to whom so large a
portion of Northern and Germanic tradition is devoted, it becomes
possible for me to refer to the great work of James Grimm on German
mythology for a demonstration of the connection between these heroes and
the gods of our forefathers. I regret that my own limits render it
impossible for me to enter at greater length upon this part of the
subject; but it requires a work of no small dimensions, and devoted to
it exclusively: and it is therefore sufficient to show the identity of
our own heroic story and that of Scandinavia and the continent, and thus
enable the English reader to adapt to his own national traditions the
conclusions of learned enquirers abroad, with respect to their own[819].
-----
Footnote 819:
I would particularly call attention to W. Grimm’s Deutsche Heldensage,
P. Müller’s Sagabibliothek, and J. Grimm’s Deutsche Mythologie; the
last, a very storehouse of all that bears upon this most interesting
and important subject, important whether we consider it merely in a
literary point of view, or in the far higher one of a revelation of
the creed of our forefathers, the sources of their hope and fear, the
basis of their moral being and directing motive of their actions. If
it be true that nothing human can be without interest for a man,
surely that which tells of the religious belief of our forefathers
must be of the deepest and nearest interest. It has had something to
do with making us what we are.
-----
DIVINATION AND WITCHCRAFT.—The attachment of the Germanic races to
divination attracted the notice of Tacitus[820]: he says: “They are as
great observers of auspices and lots as any. The way they use their lots
is simple; they cut into slips a branch taken from an oak or beech, and
having distinguished them by certain marks, scatter them at random and
as chance wills over a white cloth. Then if the enquiry is a public one,
the state-priest,—if a private one, the father of the house
himself,—having prayed to the gods, and looking up to heaven, thrice
raises each piece, and interprets them when raised according to the
marks before inscribed upon them. If they turn out unfavourable, there
is no further consultation that day about the same matter: if they are
favourable, the authority of omens is still required. Even here they are
acquainted with a mode of interrogating the voices and flight of birds;
but it is peculiar to this race to try the presages and admonitions of
horses. These, white in colour and subject to no mortal work, are fed at
the public cost in the sacred groves and woods: then being harnessed to
the sacred chariot, they are accompanied by the priest, the king or the
prince of the state, who observe their neighings and snortings. Nor has
any augury more authority than this, not only among the common people,
but even the nobles and priests: for they think themselves the
ministers, but the horses the confidants, of the gods. There is another
customary form of auspices, by which they inquire concerning the event
of serious wars. They match a captive of the nation with which they are
at war, however they can come by him, with a select champion of their
own, each armed with his native weapons. The victory of this one or that
is taken as a presage.”
Footnote 820:
Germ. x.
The use of lots as connected with heathendom, that is, as a means of
looking into futurity, continued in vogue among the Saxons till a late
period, in spite of the efforts of the clergy: this is evident from the
many allusions in the Poenitentials, and the prohibitions of the secular
law. The augury by horses does not appear to have been used in England,
from any allusion at least which still survives; but it was still
current in Germany in the seventh century, and with less change of
adjuncts than we usually find in the adoption of heathen forms by
Christian saints. It was left to the decision of horses to determine
where the mortal remains of St. Gall should rest; the saint would not
move, till certain unbroken horses were brought and charged with his
coffin: then, after prayers, we are told, “Elevato igitur a pontifice
nec non et a sacerdote feretro, et equis superposito, ait episcopus:
‘Tollite frena de capitibus eorum, et pergant, ubi Dominus voluerit.’
Vexillum ergo crucis cum luminaribus adsumebatur, et psallentes, equis
praecedentibus, via incipiebatur[821].” It may be imagined that the
horses infallibly found the proper place for the saint’s burial-place;
but what is of importance to us is the use of horses on the occasion. In
this country however we have some record of a divination in which not
horses but a bull played a principal part; and as bulls were animals
sacred to the great goddess Nerthus, it is not unlikely that this was a
remnant of ancient heathendom. St. Benedict on one occasion appeared to
a fisherman named Wulfgeat, and desired him to announce to duke
Æðelwine[822], his lord, that it was his the saint’s wish to have a
monastery erected to himself, to the pious mother of mercy and All
virgins. The spot was to be where he should see a bull stamp with his
foot. To use the words of the saint to the fisherman, “Ut ei igitur haec
omnia per ordinem innotescas exhortor, sermonem addens sermoni, quatenus
scrutetur diligentius in loco praedicto quomodo noctu fessa terrae sua
incumbant animalia, _ac ubi taurum surgentem pede dextro viderit
percutere terram_, ibidem proculdubio xenodochii sciat se aram erigere
debere.” Obedient to the order, duke Æðelwine set out in the morning to
find the spot: “Mira res, et miranda, ubi vir praedictus insulam est
ingressus, ... _animalia sua in modum crucis, taurum vero in medio eorum
iacere prospexit_. Et sicut quondam sancto Clementi agnus pede dextro
locum fontis, sic viro isti taurus terram pede percutiendo locum mensae
futuri arcisterii significavit divinitus[823].” St. Clement’s fountain
never rolled such floods of gold as found their way to the rich abbey of
Ramsey!
-----
Footnote 821:
Vit. Anon. Sci. Galli. Pertz, Monum. ii. 17.
Footnote 822:
The same whom the grateful monks have distinguished by the name of
_Dei amicus_.
Footnote 823:
Cod. Dipl. No. 581.
-----
Other details of heathendom in the practices of ordinary life must be
left to the appendix to this chapter; but a cursory reference may be
made to what appears to show a belief in the evil eye, and that practice
which in Latin is called _invultuatio_. The former of these is mentioned
in the poem of Beówulf[824], where Hróðgár, warning Beówulf of the frail
tenure of human life, adds, “eágena bearhtm,” _the glance of eyes_, to
the many dangers the warrior had to fear:
Nú is ðínes mægnes blæd Now is the bloom of thy strength
áne hwíle, for a little while,
eft sona bið soon will it be
ðæt ðec adl oððe ecg that sickness or the sword
eafoðes getwǽfeð, shall part thee from thy power,
oððe fýres feng, or clutch of fire,
oððe flódes wylm, or wave of flood,
oððe grípe meces, or gripe of sword,
oððe gáres fliht or javelin’s flight,
oððe atol yldo, or ugly age,
oððe eágena bearhtm, or glance of eye,
forsitteð and forsworceð. shall oppress and darken thee!
-----
Footnote 824:
Beów. l. 3520.
-----
_Invultuation_ is defined by Mr. Thorpe in the following words: “a
species of witchcraft, the perpetrators of which were called
_vultivoli_, and are thus described by John of Salisbury: Qui ad
affectus hominum immutandos, in molliori materia, cera forte vel limo,
eorum quos pervertere nituntur effigies exprimunt[825]. To this
superstition Virgil alludes:
“Limus ut hic durescit, et haec ut cera liquescit,
Uno eodemque igni, sic nostro Daphnis amore.
-----
Footnote 825:
De Nugis Curial. lib. i. cap. 12.
-----
“Of the practice of this superstition, both in England and Scotland,
many instances are to be met with; among the most remarkable, that of
Eleanor Cobham, duchess of Gloucester, and Stacey, servant to George
Duke of Clarence[826].”
-----
Footnote 826:
Anc. Laws and Inst. vol. ii. Gloss.
-----
But it seems to include also the practising against the life of an enemy
by means of a waxen or other figure, in which pins were stuck, or
against which a sharp bolt was shot. It is against this crime that the
law of Henry the First enacts[827]: “Si quis veneno, vel sortilegio, vel
invultuacione, seu maleficio aliquo, faciat homicidium, sive illi
paratum sit sive alii, nihil refert, quin factum mortiferum, et nullo
modo redimendum sit:” and this is perhaps also intended by the word
_liblác_ used by Æðelstân[828]. It is also probable that this was the
crime for which in the tenth century a widow was put to death by
drowning at London Bridge, and her property forfeited to the crown[829].
Anglosaxon homilies however also mention philtres of various kinds,
which the people are warned against as dangerous and damnable
heathendom.
-----
Footnote 827:
Leg. Hen. lxxi. § 1.
Footnote 828:
Æðelst. i. § 6.
Footnote 829:
Cod. Dipl. No. 591.
-----
Such are the fragments of a system which at one time fed the religious
yearnings and propped the moral faith of our forefathers,—faint notes
from a chorus of triumphant jubilation which once rose to heaven from
every corner of the island.
How shall we characterize it? As a dull and debasing _Fetish-worship_,
worthy of African savages? or as a vague and colourless _Pantheism_, in
which religion vanishes away, and philosophy gropes for a basis which it
cannot find? I think not.
Contemplate the child who bounds through the wood, or pauses in delight
upon the meadow, where he wantons in the very joy of life itself: to him
this great creation is full of playmates, beings animate or inanimate,
with whom he shares his little pleasures, to whom he can confide his
little sorrows. He understands their language, and in turn he has a
language for them, which he thinks they understand: he knows more of
their peculiarities than the halting step of scientific observation is
always able to overtake; for he knows what science haughtily refuses to
contemplate or, it may be, is unable to appreciate. The birds speak to
him, the forests whisper to him, the shadows and the low tones of the
hill and valley lull him to repose, the winds wanton with his curled
locks and blow them over his shoulders, the streams and brooks have
spray to play with and sprinkle in his laughing eyes. He stands before
the great spirit of nature, face to face, and knows him as he reveals
himself in every one of his divine forms; for the child sees and knows
the secrets of God, which the man, alas! is condemned to forget. Such as
the child is, has the child-like nation been, before the busy hum of
commerce, the crashing strokes of the piston, the heavy murmur of
innumerable spinning-jennies necessarily banished more natural music
from our ears. An age that thinks about itself and its own capacity,
that reflects upon its own processes of thought, and makes great
combinations of powers, and anatomizes nature till it becomes familiar
with every secret of creation, may be an earnest puritanical age, a
stern protestant age, one that will not be fed with imaginative
religions, but it cannot be one of implicit, trusting, fearing,
rejoicing, trembling belief: the age of faith ceased where the age of
knowledge began. Man knows too much, perhaps believes too little: he
will not, and he must not, yield his privilege of calm, determined,
obstinate enquiry: he will, and should, judge for himself, weigh
evidence, compare and reason, and decide for himself how much or how
little he will receive as true. How can he wonder at the stars, their
rising, their setting or their eclipse? He calculates where new planets
may be found: he weighs them in his balances when found, and tells not
only their circumference or their density, but how long the straggling
ray of light that started from them was on its journey, before it
reached the eye of the gazer. What can these wavering fragments of time
and space be to him who calculates duration by the nutation of suns, or
the scarcely appreciable difference of millennial changes? Let us
remember what our fathers were, and consider what we are. For them there
was indeed a time, a period to tell of,
“when the Sun
Knew not her dwelling, nor the Moon his power,
And the Stars knew not where their place should be!”
We know their places, and their dwellings, and their power. They are
subordinated to a hypothesis of gravitation. For us there is no wavering
bridge of the Gods, no _Bifröst_ or _Asbrú_; our rainbow is a shadowy
thing, a belt of deceptive colours, the reflection of a sunbeam in the
multitudinous prisms of a shower-cloud. We have no _Hammer_, wielded by
the Thunder-god, and dreaded by the giants; our _Miölner_ has vanished
into the indifference of opposing electricities. Apothecaries’ Hall
prepares its simples without the aid of charms, or invocation of
divinities; and though we stand as yet but on the threshold of science,
we have closed for ever behind us the portals of mystery and belief. For
we are raised upon the shoulders of the times gone by, and cast a calm
and easy view over the country which our forefathers wandered through in
fear and trembling. We fear not what they feared; we cling not to what
they clung to, for relief and comfort; we have set up our own idol, the
_Understanding_, fortified by laborious experience, taught by repeated
struggles and victories, firmly based on conquered, catalogued and
inventoried nature, on facts, the stern children of a passionless
reality. I know not whether we have gained or lost in this inevitable
career of humanity; I have faith only that He who rules the purpose of
the ages, has thus cast our lot in the infinite love and wisdom of his
own thought. But not to us, or in our finite forms of thought, can the
world be as once it was, and the “dull catalogue of common things”
admits no admixture of a fancied divinity; nay, so far are we from
seeking to instil spirit into matter, that the informing soul itself
ceases to be the object of our contemplation, while we are busied with
the nerves and tendons, or charmed with the wonderful combination of
details that form the perfect whole. We stand supreme among the subjects
of our knowledge; and the marvels of science itself will now not form
the stock in trade of a second-class conjuror. Observe the man who
threads his way with imperturbable security and speed through the
thoroughfares of a densely-peopled metropolis: the crowd throng about
him, yet he yields here, he advances there, till at length, almost
unconsciously, he has attained the goal of his desire. He is familiar
with the straight lines and angles that surround him, he measures his
position and stands upright, mistaking, if indeed he think at all, the
inconceivably rapid calculations of the understanding for acts of his
own spontaneous volition. The unaccustomed eye of the child cannot do
this; and he wavers in his steps and stumbles from point to point,
helpless, but charming in his helplessness, till practice brings him
power, and he too walks and stands upright among men. So is it with the
minds of men in early and uninstructed periods, stumbling from belief to
belief, resting for support upon every circumstance of surrounding life,
and unfurnished with the elements of scientific reasoning, which, by
assuring certainty, destroy the vague, indefinite basis of faith, or
bring within a narrow and constantly decreasing circle, its vague and
indefinite object. We believe the results of Geometry, the theorems of
analytic mathematics, because we cannot help ourselves, cannot escape
from the inevitable conclusion involved in the premises; but we cannot
call this acquiescence faith, or establish upon it a moral claim before
our own conscience and our God. And as there can be no reason save in
the unintelligible, no faith save in the impossible, all that is brought
within the realm of the intellect, or the sphere of the possible, is
just so much withdrawn from the circle of religion.
The basis of the religious state in man is the sensation of
weakness,—whether that weakness be or be not distinctly traced in the
consciousness to the ignorance which is its cause, or to the ultimate,
more abstract and more philosophical conviction of sinfulness, in the
conscience. Man cannot rest for his anxious desire to know the why and
how of every phænomenon he observes: this restlessness is the law of his
intellect, that is, the condition of his humanity: he interrogates the
phænomena themselves, but if they will give no answer to his question,
he will seek it without them. In himself he will seek it in vain. At no
time, at no stage of his development can he understand the relation of
the subject and the object, or comprehend the copula that unites them.
The philosopher the most deeply trained in watching abstract forms of
thought, acknowledges with a sigh that even the intuitions of the reason
halt in the fetters of the understanding, and that to give objective
reality to what can be known only in the forms and through the powers of
the subjective, is at best to be guilty of a noble treason to the laws
of pure reasoning. And what shall he do, who is not trained in watching
abstract forms of thought? Is he more likely to find the answer in
himself? Alas, no! he feels only too surely that his nature can give no
satisfying response; that his confined and bounded being is itself full
of problems which remain unsolved.
And now let this state be considered with reference to the early
inhabitant of a world, whose secrets are yet undiscovered, and on whom
no light of heavenly radiance has fallen. For him, as for us, there is
no answer either in the phænomenon or in the observer: but he has no
reason to reject the supposition of a supernatural influence: everything
that surrounds him is filled with evidence of supernatural power. He
lives in nearer communion than we do with the world about him: his
frame, not yet clogged and vitiated by the habits of an advanced
cultivation, is more alive than ours to the external effects of natural
causes: the world itself, existing under different conditions of
climate, different electrical combinations, not yet subdued by the
plough, or the axe of the forester, not yet bridled and trained by the
canal, the manufactory or the railroad, has effluences which act upon
the nerves and fluids of the man, and which seem to him divine
emanations, revelations of the divinity within the lake, the mountain
and the tree: the lake, the mountain and the tree he peoples then with
gods,—with Nymphs and Nereids, with Oreads and Hamadryads—to whose
inward and spiritual action the outward owes its power and its form. But
the outward and visible is not a sign only, of the inward and spiritual;
it is a symbol, a part of that which it denotes; it is at once the sower
and the seed.
In no age can man be without the great ideas of God, of right, of power,
of love, of wisdom; but an age that has not learnt to feed upon
abstractions, must find the realization of those ideas in the outward
world, and in a few familiar facts of human nature. It strives to give
itself an account of itself, and the result of its efforts is a
paganism, always earnest and imaginative, often cruel and capricious, as
often gentle, affectionate and trusting—for even in spite of cruelty and
caprice, the affections will have their way, and trust will find a home.
Its inconsistence is the offspring not of guilt, but of imperfect
knowledge: it seeks the great solution of all religious problems, a
mediator between God and man: it is its error, but not necessarily its
crime, that it finds that mediator in the complex of the world itself:
no other has been revealed to it; and the reveries of philosophy that
haunt the sounding Portico or the flowery swathes of Hymettus, cannot
tell of the “Unknown God” to the agriculturist, the huntsman or the
pirate.
I believe in two religions for my forefathers: one that deals with the
domestic life, and normal state of peace; that sanctifies the family
duties, prescribes the relations of father, wife and child, divides the
land, and presides over its boundaries; that tells of gods, the givers
of fertility and increase, the protectors of the husbandman and the
herdsman; that guards the ritual and preserves the liturgy; that
pervades the social state and gives permanence to the natural, original
political institutions. I call this the sacerdotal faith, and I will
admit that to its teachers and professors we may owe the frequent
attempt of later periods to give an abstract, philosophic meaning to
mythus and tradition, and to make dawning science halt after religion.
The second creed I will call the heroic; in this I recognize the same
gods, transformed into powers of war and victory, crowners of the brave
in fight, coercers of the wild might of nature, conquerors of the
giants, the fiends and dragons; founders of royal families, around whom
cluster warlike comrades, exulting in the thought that their deities
stand in immediate genealogical relation to themselves, and share in the
pursuits and occupations which furnish themselves with wealth and
dignity and power. Let it be admitted that a complete separation never
takes place between these different forms of religion; that a wavering
is perceptible from one to the other; that the warrior believes his
warrior god will bless the produce of his pastures; that the cultivator
rejoices in the heroic legend of Wóden and of Baldr, because the
cultivator is himself a warrior, when the occasion demands his services:
still, in the ultimate development and result of the systems, the
original distinction may be traced, and to it some of the conclusions we
observe must necessarily be referred: it is thus that spells of healing
and fruitfulness survive when the great gods have vanished, and that the
earth, the hills, the trees and waters retain a portion of dimmed and
bated divinity long after the godlike has sunk into the heroic legend,
or been lost for ever.
I can readily believe that the warrior and the noble were less deeply
impressed with the religious idea than the simple cultivator. In the
first place, the disturbed life and active habits of military
adventurers are not favourable to the growth of religious convictions:
again, there is no tie more potent than that which links sacred
associations to particular localities, and acts, unconsciously perhaps
but pervasively, upon all the dwellers near the holy spots: the tribe
may wander with all its wealth of thought and feeling; even its gods may
accompany it to a new settlement; but the _religio loci_, the
indefinable influence of the local association, cannot be transported.
Habits of self-reliance, of a proud and scornful independence, are not
consistent with the conviction of weakness, which is necessary to our
full admission of the divine pre-eminence; and the self-confident
soldier often felt that he could cope with gods such as his had been
described to be. In the Greek heroic lay Tydides could attack, defeat,
and even wound Ares: I do not know that the Teutonic mythology ever went
so far as this; but we have abundant record of a contemptuous disregard
with which particular heroes of tradition treated the popular religion.
Some selected indeed one god in whom they placed especial trust, and
whom they worshipped (as far as they worshipped at all) to the exclusion
of the rest; but more must have participated in that feeling which is
expressed in a Danish song,
“I trust my sword, I trust my steed,
But most I trust myself at need[830]!”
while to many we may safely apply what is said of a Swedish prince, “han
var mikit blandinn i trunni,” he was mightily confused in his belief.
Still it is certain that a personal character was attributed to the
gods, as well as an immediate intervention in the affairs of life. The
actual presence of Oþinn from time to time on the battle-field, in the
storm, in the domestic privacy of the household, was firmly believed, in
Scandinavia; and it is reasonable to assume that Wóden would have been
found as active among our German progenitors, had not the earlier
introduction of Christianity into Teutonic Europe deprived us of the
mythological records which the North supplies. Beda tells us that
Eádwini of Northumberland sacrificed and offered thanks to his gods upon
the birth of a daughter. Rǽdwald of Eastanglia, even after his nominal
conversion, continued to pay his offerings to idols, and the people of
Essex, when labouring under the ravages of a pestilence, abjured the
faith of Christ and returned to the service of the ancient gods. But in
the personality of God alone resides the possibility of realizing the
religious idea.
Footnote 830:
“Först troer jeg mit gode svärd,
og saa min gode hest,
dernäst troer jeg mine dannesvenne,
jeg troer mig self allerbedst.”
Many examples are given in Grimm, Mythol. p. 7.
We possess no means of showing how the religion of our own progenitors
or their brethren of the continent, had been modified, purified, and
adapted in the course of centuries to a more advanced state of
civilization, or the altered demands of a higher moral nature; but, at
the commencement of the sixth century we do find the pregnant fact, that
Christianity met but little resistance among them, and enjoyed an easy
triumph, or at the worst a careless acquiescence, even among those whose
pagan sympathies could not be totally overcome. Two suppositions,
indeed, can alone explain the facile apostasy to or from Christianity,
which marked the career of the earliest converts. Either from a
conviction of the inefficacy of heathendom had proceeded a general
indifference to religious sanctions, which does not appear to answer
other conditions of the problem, or the moral demands of the new faith
did not seem to the Saxons more onerous than those to which they were
accustomed; for it is the amount of self-sacrifice which a religion
successfully imposes upon its votaries, which can alone form a measure
of its influence. The fact that a god had perished, could sound
strangely in the ears of no worshipper of Baldr; the great message of
consolation,—that he had perished to save sinful, suffering
man,—justified the ways of God, and added an awful meaning to the old
mythus. An earnest, thinking pagan, would, I must believe, joyfully
accept a version of his own creed, which offered so inestimable a boon,
in addition to what he had heretofore possessed. The final destruction
of the earth by fire could present no difficulties to those who had
heard of Surtr and the Twilight of the Gods, or of Allfather’s glorious
kingdom, raised on the ruin of the intermediate divinities. A state of
happiness or punishment in a life to come was no novelty to him who had
shuddered at the idea of Nástrond: Loki or Grendel had smoothed the way
for Satan. Those who had believed in runes and incantations were
satisfied with the efficacy of the mass; a crowd of saints might be
invoked in place of a crowd of subordinate divinities; the holy places
had lost none of their sanctity; the holy buildings had not been
levelled with the ground, but dedicated in another name; the pagan
sacrifices had not been totally abolished, but only converted into
festal occasions, where the new Christians might eat and drink, and
continue to praise God: Hréðe and Eóstre, Wóden, Tiw and Fricge, Ðunor
and Sætere retained their places in the calendar of months and days:
Erce was still invoked in spells, Wyrd still wove the web of destiny;
and while Wóden retained his place at the head of the royal genealogies,
the highest offices of the Christian church were offered to compensate
the noble class for the loss of their old sacerdotal functions. How
should Christianity fail to obtain access where Paganism stepped half
way to meet it, and it could hold out so many outward points of union to
paganism?
We dare not question the decrees of omnipotence, or enquire into the
mysterious operations of omniscient God; it is not for us to measure his
infinite wisdom by the rules of our finite intelligence, or to assume
that his goodness and mercy can be appreciated and comprehended by the
dim, wavering light of our reason; but man feels that in every age man
has had a common nature, a common hope and a common end of being; and we
shall do no wrong either to philosophy or to religion, if we believe
that even in the errors of paganism there lay the germs of truth; and
that the light which lighteth every one that cometh into the world, was
vouchsafed in such form and measure as best to subserve the all-wise,
all-holy, and all-merciful objects of creation!
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX A.
MARKS.
The following patronymical names I believe to be those of ancient Marks.
The first portion of them is derived from the Codex Diplomatics and
other original authorities: the second portion contains names inferred
from the actual local names in England at the present day.
Æslingas. Kent. Cod. Dipl. No. 111.
Æscingas. Surrey. 314.
Anningas. Northamptonshire. 445.
Antingas. Norfolk. 785.
Æfeningas. 1073.
Berecingas. Essex. 38.
Besingas. 994.
Banesingas. Oxfordshire. 81.
Boerlingas. Kent. 152.
Beardingas. Kent. 207.
Beadingas. Sussex. 314.
Billingas. 1000.
Bruningas. 374, 1113.
Brahcingas. Hertfordshire. 410.
Brytfordingas. Hampshire. 421, 985, 1108.
Brydingas. Wiltshire. 436.
Brydingas. Dorsetshire. 447.
Bydelingas. Northamptonshire. 445.
Beaddingas. Isle of Wight. 475.
Beorhfeldingas. 1175.
Beringas. Kent. 518.
Buccingas. Chron. Sax. 918.
Bulungas. Somersetshire. Cod. Dipl. No. 569.
Birlingas. Worcestershire. 570.
Brómleágingas. Kent. 657.
Beorganstedingas. Sussex. 663.
Boccingas. Essex. 698.
Beorhtingas. Sussex. 782.
Bercingas. Suffolk. 907.
Byrtingas. Warwickshire. 916.
Culingas. Kent. 132.
Centingas. Chron. Sax. 999.
Crangas. Kent. Cod. Dipl. No. 179.
Ceanningas. 1193.
Colingas. Wiltshire. 336.
Cearningas. 1212.
Ciwingas. Hertfordshire. 410.
Cytringas. Northamptonshire. 443.
Cnyllingas. Northamptonshire. 480.
Cystáningas. Kent. 657.
Cateringas. 722.
Coringas. Lincolnshire. 953.
Cyceringas. 957.
Dicelingas. Sussex. 314.
Dentúningas. Northamptonshire. 445.
Doccingas. Norfolk. 759.
Eohingas. Kent. 121.
Englungas. 123.
Eástringas. Northamptonshire. 480.
Earmingas. Cambridgeshire. 563.
Earningas. 1320.
Embasingas. Hampshire. 673.
Eastúningas. 1023.
Eofordúningas. Northamptonshire. 736.
Erpingas. Norfolk. 785.
Effingas. Surrey. 812.
Erningas. Cambridgeshire. 907.
Ferlingas. Somersetshire. 73.
Fullingas. 987.
Focingas. Kent. 207.
Fasingas. 1083.
Fearningas. Hampshire. 450.
Fearnbeorgingas. Kent. 657.
Fingringas. Essex. 685.
Fearningas. Somersetshire. 723.
Frinningas. Kent. 896.
Glæstingas. Somersetshire. 49.
Geddingas. Middlesex. 101.
Gumeningas. Middlesex. 116.
Gustingas. Wiltshire. 174.
Getingas. Surrey. 318.
Garungas. Kent. 364.
Grundlingas. Worcestershire. 548.
Gildingas. Kent. 790.
Gillingas. 809. Chron. Sax.
1010.
Gyrstlingas. 967.
Hallingas. Kent. 160.
Hæstingas. Chron. Sax.
1050.
Heallingas. Worcestershire. Cod. Dipl. No. 209.
Heretúningas. Dorsetshire. 412.
Hrepingas. 990.
Hoppingas. Surrey. 537.
Hæglingas. 1193.
Heántuningas. 1212.
Heartingas. Cambridgeshire. 533.
Hwæssingas. Sussex. 591.
Hohtúningas. Hampshire. 633.
Hnutscillingas. Hampshire. 642.
Holingas. Kent. 722.
Heningas. Northamptonshire. 733.
Herelingas. Norfolk. 782.
Hodingas. Hampshire. 783.
Hanningas. Norfolk. 785.
Hellingas. Norfolk. 809.
Horningas. Hampshire. 556.
Horningas. Norfolk. 740.
Horningas. Oxfordshire. 775.
Horningas. Somersetshire. 816.
Horningas. Cambridgeshire. 907.
Hicelingas. 971.
Hæcingas. Kent. 364.
Ircingas. Chron. Sax. 918.
Lingas. Middlesex. Cod. Dipl. No. 159.
Lællingas. Essex. 715.
Lamburningas. Berkshire. 792.
Linfrodingas. 1133.
Lacingas. 1153.
Merlingas. Somersetshire. 73.
Mundlingas. Kent. 107.
Mallingas. Kent. 240.
Módingas. Kent. 287.
Michǽmingas. Surrey. 537.
Meringas. 809.
Mæssingas. 953.
Nessingas. 813.
Neddingas. Suffolk. 907.
Oddingas. Worcestershire. 209.
Pegingas. 257.
Pæccingas. Sussex. 414.
Purbicingas. Dorsetshire. 418.
Palingas. Sussex. 432.
Puningas. Sussex. 481.
Piccingas. 812.
Piperingas. 1001.
Peartingas. 1016.
Rícingas. Essex. 35.
Roegingas. Kent. 196.
Reádingas. Berkshire. 685.
Rodingas. 907.
Rocingas. 1014.
Ruwanoringas. 1163.
Stoppingas. Warwickshire. 83.
Sunningas. Berkshire. 214.
Sempingas. Lincolnshire. 267.
Stǽningas. Sussex. 314.
Scearingas. Berkshire. 357.
Suntingas. Northamptonshire. 445.
Snotingas. Chron. Sax. 922.
Súðtúningas. Hampshire. Cod. Dipl. No. 578.
Stameringas. Berkshire. 762.
Seaxlingas. Norfolk. 782.
Scealdedeningas. Hampshire. 783.
Stutingas. Kent. 773.
Scitingas. 1042.
Terringas. Sussex. 1138.
Terringas. Kent. 405.
Tótingas. Surrey. 363.
Tótingas. Norfolk. 785.
Teofuntingas. Wiltshire. 379.
Tudingas. Sussex. 593.
Terlingas. Essex. 907.
Ticcingas. 928.
Uggafordingas. Wiltshire. 778.
Wócingas. Surrey. 168.
Wígingas. Kent. 225.
Wígingas. Hertfordshire. Chron. Sax. 921.
Wealthǽmingas. Hampshire. Cod. Dipl. No. 342.
Weodúningas. Northamptonshire. 399.
Wrætlingas. 399.
Wellingas. Hertfordshire. 410.
Wealingas. 716.
Wealingas { 1016; 1061.
{ Chron. Sax.
1013.
Wealingas. Hampshire. Cod. Dipl. No. 442.
Welingas. Wiltshire. 462.
Welingas. 1069; 1154.
Witringas. Sussex. 464.
Wyrtingas. Hampshire. 481.
Woðringas. Kent. 492.
Wudutúningas. Hampshire. 638.
Wealdingas. Suffolk. 685.
Wanetingas. Berkshire. 698.
Witeringas. 992.
Weopingas. 721.
Westmoringas. Chron. Sax. 966.
Wilringas. Suffolk. Cod. Dipl. No. 759.
Wælsingas. Norfolk. 759.
Wylfingas. 1135.
Wratingas. 907.
Wanhæmingas. 1135.
Winlingas. 907.
Wasingas. 1159; 1173.
Wedringas. 907.
Watingas. 907.
Wintringas. 953.
Weargeburningas. Hampshire. 783.
Wimbedúningas. Surrey. 537.
Ytingas. 1228. Chron.
Sax. 906.
Ðutingas. Hampshire. Cod. Dipl. No. 752.
Ðorningas. Kent. 207.
Ðristlingas. Worcestershire. 570.
Writolas. Essex. 35.
Hogebúra. Hampshire. 589.
Holigan. 952.
Momelas. 952.
Wægelas. Somersetshire. 774.
Beohhǽme. Kent. 657.
Burhhǽme. Kent. 688.
Cethǽme. Kent. 688.
Cynghǽme. 1212.
Crohhǽme. Worcestershire. 507.
Díchǽme. Wiltshire. 778.
Hinhǽme. Worcestershire. 764.
Middelhǽme. Hampshire. 648.
Monninghǽme. Worcestershire. 645
Leófeshǽme. Kent. 657.
Micghǽme. Hampshire. 638.
Polhǽme. Hampshire. 642; 1136.
Secghǽme. Worcestershire. 764.
Uppinghǽme. Hampshire. 590.
Wíchǽme. Kent. 657; 1038.
Ðornhǽme. Worcestershire. 511.
Beonotsetan. Worcestershire. Cod. Dipl. No. 266.
Brádsetan. Worcestershire. 289.
Brádsetan. Gloucestershire. 274.
Crægsetan. Kent. 287.
Crudsetan. Wiltshire. 460.
Grimsetan. Worcestershire. 561.
Incsetan. Worcestershire. 511.
Mósetan. Worcestershire. 266.
Wreocensetan. Worcestershire. 277.
------------------
MARKS INFERRED FROM LOCAL NAMES IN ENGLAND.
Æbingas. Abinger, _Surr._; Abinghall, _Glouc._; Abington,
_Camb._
Æblingas. Ablington, _Glouc._; Ablington, _Wilts._
Æcingas. Oakington, _Camb._
Æceringas. Accrington, _Lanc._; Eakring, _Notts._
Æclingas. Acklington, _Nthld._
Aldingas. Aldingbourn, _Sussx._; Aldingham, _Lanc._;
Aldington, _Kent_ and _Worc._
Aldringas. Aldringham, _Suff._; Aldrington, _Sussx._
Ælcingas. Alkington, _Glouc._ and _Salop._
Ælcringas. Alkrington, _Lanc._
Ælingas. Allington, _Devon_, _Dors._, _Hants_, _Kent_,
_Linc._, _Wilts._
Ælmingas. Almington, _Staff._ and _Warw._
Ælmodíngas. Almodington, _Sussx._
Ælfingas. Alphington, _Devon_; Alvington, _Glouc._,
_Somers._ and _Devon_; Alvingham, _Linc._
Ælpingas. Alpington, _Norf._
Ælwingas. Alwington, _Devon_.
Angmeringas. Angmering, _Sussx._
Antingas. Antingham, _Norf._
Ardingas. Ardingly, _Sussx._; Ardington, _Berks._
Arlingas. Arlingham, _Glouc._; Arlington, _Devon_, _Glouc._
and _Sussx._
Armingas. Armingford, _Camb._; Arminghall, _Norf._
Arringas. Arrington, _Camb._
Arðingas. Arthington, _York._; Arthingworth, _Nhamp._
Artingas. Artington, _Sussx._
Æscingas. Ashingdon, _Essex_; Ashington, _Sussx._, _Somers._
and _Nthld._; Ashendon, _Bucks_.
Æsclingas. Ashling, _Sussx._
Æðeringas. Athrington, _Devon_ and _Sussx._
Ætingas. Attington, _Oxf._
Æfingas. Avington, _Berks._ and _Hants_.
Bæbingas. Babbingley, _Norf._; Babington, _Somers._
Bædingas. Baddington, _Chesh._; Badingham, _Suff._
Bæcgingas. Badgington, _Glouc._; Baginton, _Warw._
Bædlingas. Badlingham, _Camb._
Balcingas. Balking, _Essex_.
Bælingas. Ballingdon, _Essex_; Ballingham, _Heref._
Baningas. Banningham, _Norf._
Beorcingas. Barking, _Essex_, _Suff._ and _Mddx._
Beorlingas. Barling, _Essex_; Barlings, _Linc._
Beormingas. Barming, _Kent_; Birmingham, _Warw._
Beorningas. Barningham, _Suff._, _York._ and _Norf._
Beorringas. Barrington, _Camb._, _Somers._, _Berks._, _Glouc._
Beortingas. Bartington, _Chesh._
Basingas. Basing, _Hants_; Basingstoke, _ibid._
Bassingas. Bassingbourn, _Camb._; Bassingfield, _Notts_;
Bassingham, _Linc._; Bassingthorpe, _Linc._;
Bassington, _Nthld._
Bafingas. Bavington, _Nthld._
Bealingas. Bealings, _Suff._
Bebingas. Bebington, _Chesh._
Beceringas. Beckering, _Linc._
Beccingas. Beckingham, _Essex_, _Linc._, _Notts_; Beckington,
_Somers._
Beadingas. Beddingham, _Sussx._; Beddington, _Surr._;
Bedingfield, _Suff._; Bedingham, _Norf._
Bædlingas. Bedlington, _Drhm._
Bécingas. Beeching Stoke, _Wilts._
Bédingas. Beeding, _Sussx._
Bellingas. Bellingdon, _Bucks_; Bellinger, _Hants_;
Bellingham, _Nthld._
Beltingas. Belting, _Kent_.
Benningas. Benningbrough, _York._; Benningholme, _York._;
Bennington, _Herts_, _Linc._; Benningworth,
_Linc._
Bensingas. Bensington, _Oxf._
Berringas. Berrington, _Drhm._, _Glouc._, _Salop_, _Worc._
Bessingas. Bessingby, _York._; Bessingham, _Norf._
Beofingas. Bevington, _Warw._
Biccingas. Bickington, _Devon_.
Billingas. Billing, _Nhamp._; Billinge, _Lanc._; Billingford,
_Norf._; Billingham, _Drhm._; Billinghay,
_Linc._; Billingley, _York._; Billingsgate,
_Mddx._; Billingshurst, _Sussx._; Billingside,
_Drhm._; Billingsley, _Salop_; Billington,
_Bedf._, _Staff._, _Lanc._
Bilsingas. Bilsington, _Kent_.
Bingas. Bing, _Suff._; Bingfield, _Nthld._; Bingham,
_Nhamp._, _Somers._; Bingley, _York._
Binningas. Binnington, _York._
Bircingas. Birchington, _Kent_.
Bridingas. Birdingbury, _Warw._
Birlingas. Birling, _Kent_, _Nthld._; Birlingham, _Worc._
Biteringas. Bittering, _Norf._
Blæcingas. Blatchington, _Sussx._; Blatchinworth, _Lanc._
Blædingas. Bleddington, _Glouc._
Bleccingas. Bletchingley, _Surr._; Bletchington, _Oxf._
Bliclingas. Blickling, _Norf._
Bobbingas. Bobbing, _Kent_; Bobbington, _Salop_, _Staff._;
Bobbingworth, _Essex_; Bobinger, _Essex_.
Bocingas, Bocking, _Essex_, _Suff._
Boddingas. Boddington, _Glouc._, _Nhamp._
Bolingas. Bolingbroke, _Linc._
Bollingas. Bollington, _Chesh._
Bondingas. Bondington, _Somers._
Bonningas. Bonnington, _Kent_ and _Notts._; Boningale,
_Salop_; Boninghall, _Salop_.
Bosingas. Bossingham, _Kent_; Bossington, _Hants._,
_Somers._
Bofingas. Bovingdon, _Herts._
Bradingas. Brading, _Hants._
Brentingas. Brantingham, _York._; Brentingley, _Leic._
Brahcingas. Braughin, _Herts._
Bressingas. Bressingham, _Norf._
Bridlingas. Bridlington, _York._
Brihtlingas. Brightling, _Sussx._; Brightlingsea, _Essex_.
Brimingas. Brimington, _Derby._
Bringas. Brington, _Hunt._ and _Nhamp._; Bringhurst,
_Leic._
Bríningas. Briningham, _Norf._
Brinningas. Brinnington, _Chesh._
Brislingas. Brislington, _Somers._
Britingas. Brittenton, _Oxf._
Bucingas. Buckingham, _Bucks_.
Budingas. Buddington, _Sussx._
Bulcingas. Bulkington, _Warw._, _Wilts._
Bullingas. Bullingdon, _Oxf._; Bullingham, _Heref._;
Bullington, _Hants_ and _Linc._
Buntingas. Buntingford, _Herts_.
Burlingas. Burlingham, _Norf._; Burlington, _York._
Burmingas. Burmington, _Warw._
Burringas. Burringham, _Linc._; Burrington, _Devon_,
_Heref._, _Somers._
Buslingas. Buslingthorpe, _Linc._
Byttingas. Butting Hill, _Sussx._
Cædingas. Caddington, _Bedf._, _Herts_; Keddington, _Linc._
Kedington, _Essex_, _Suff._
Callingas. Callington, _Cornw._
Cægingas. Keyingham, _York._
Cameringas. Cameringham, _Linc._; Cammerton, _Cumb._
Canningas. Cannings, _Wilts_; Cannington, _Somers._;
Kenninghall, _Norf._; Kennington, _Berks._,
_Kent_, _Surr._
Ceardingas }
(? Heardingas) } Cardington, _Bedf._, _Salop_; Cardinham, _Cornw._
Cearlingas. Carlingcot, _Somers._; Carlinghow, _York._
Cerringas. Carrington, _Chesh._, _Linc._, _Notts_; Charing,
_Kent_; Cherrington, _Salop_, _Wilts._
Cersington. Carsington, _Derby._
Cæssingas. Cassington, _Oxf._
Ceadlingas. Chaddlington, _Oxf._
Cealfingas. Chalvington, _Sussx._; Kilvington, _York._
Ceandlingas. Chandlings, _Berks._
Ceadingas. Cheddington, _Bucks_, _Dors._
Cyllingas. Chellington, _Bedf._; Chillingford, _Staff._;
Chillingham, _Nthld._; Chillington, _Devon_,
_Somers._; Kelling, _Norf._; Kellingley,
_York._; Kellington, _York._
Ceassingas. Chessington, _Surr._; Kessingland, _Suff._
Cifingas. Chevington, _Suff._, _Nthld._
Cyrclingas. Kirklington, _Notts._, _York._
Cidingas. Chiddingfold, _Surr._; Chiddingly, _Sussx._;
Chiddingstone, _Kent_, Kiddington, _Oxf._
Cirmingas. Kirmington, _Linc._
Ciltingas. Chiltington, _Sussx._
Cemesingas. Kemsing, _Kent_.
Cypingas. Chipping, _Herts_, _Lanc._, _Glouc._, _Berks._,
_Oxf._, _Essex_, _Nhamp._, _Bucks_.
Cenesingas. Kensington, _Mddx._
Ceopingas. Choppington, _Drhm._
Cetringas. Kettering, _Nhamp._; Ketteringham, _Norf._
Clæfringas. Clavering, _Essex_, _Norf._
Cyrtlingas. Kirtling, _Camb._; Kirtlington, _Oxf._
Climpingas. Climping, _Sussx._
Cýslingas. Kislingbury, _Nhamp._
Coceringas. Cockerington, _Linc._
Cnudlingas. Knedlington, _York._
Cocingas. Cocking, _Sussx._; Cockington, _Devon_.
Codingas. Coddington, _Chesh._, _Heref._, _Notts_;
Coddenham, _Suff._
Codringas. Codrington, _Glouc._
Collingas. Collingbourne, _Wilts_; Collingham, _Notts_,
_York._; Collington, _Heref._; Collingtree,
_Nhamp._
Cnossingas. Knossington, _Leic._
Cnottingas. Knotting, _Bedf._; Knottingley, _York._
Culingas. Cooling, _Kent_; Cowling, _Suff._, _York._
Copingas. Copping-Syke, _Linc._; Coppingford, _Hunt._
Coringas. Corringham, _Essex_, _Linc._
Cosingas. Cossington, _Leic._, _Somers._
Cotingas. Cottingham, _Nhamp._, _York._; Cottingley,
_York._; Cottingwith, _York._
Cofingas. Covington, _Hunt._
Cramlingas. Cramlington, _Nthld._
Creótingas. Creeting, _Suff._
Cressingas. Cressing, _Essex_; Cressingham, _Norf._
Cridlingas. Cridling-Stubbs, _York._
Crucgingas. Crudgington, _Salop_.
Cubingas. Cubbington, _Warw._
Cublingas. Cublington, _Bucks_.
Cwædringas. Quadring, _Linc._
Cycelingas. Cucklington, _Somers._
Cwæringas. Quarrington, _Drhm._, _Linc._
Cydingas. Cuddington, _Bucks_, _Chesh._, _Surr._
Cydlingas. Kidlington, _Oxf._
Cullingas. Cullingworth, _York._
Cweningas. Quenington, _Glouc._
Culmingas. Culmington, _Salop_; Kilmington, _Devon_,
_Somers._
Cylingas. Killingbeck, _York._; Killinghall, _York._;
Killingholm, _Linc._; Killingworth, _Nthld._
Dædlingas. Dadlington, _Leic._
Dæglingas. Daglingworth, _Glouc._
Dællingas. Dalling, _Norf._; Dallinghoo, _Suff._; Dallington,
_Nhamp._, _Sussx._
Deorlingas. Darlingscott, _Worc._; Darlington, _Drhm._
Deorringas. Darrington, _York._
Dartingas. Dartington, _Devon_.
Dæfingas. Davington, _Kent_.
Deoplingas. Debtling, _Kent_.
Deddingas. Deddington, _Oxf._
Denningas. Dennington, _Suff._
Deorsingas. Dersingham, _Norf._; Dorsington, _Glouc._, _Warw._
Dicringas. Dickering, _York._
Diddingas. Diddington, _Hunt._
Didlingas. Didling, _Sussx._; Didlington, _Dors._, _Norf._
Dillingas. Dillington, _Norf._
Dimlingas. Dimlington, _York._
Dinningas. Dinnington, _Nthld._, _Somers._, _York._
Dintingas. Dinting, _Derby._
Dissingas. Dissington, _Nthld._
Distingas. Distington, _Cumb._
Dicelingas. Ditchling, _Sussx._
Docingas. Docking, _Norf._
Dodingas. Doddinghurst, _Essex_; Doddington, _Camb._,
_Chesh._, _Kent_, Linc., _Nthld._, _Nhamp._;
Doddingtree, _Worc._; Dodington, _Glouc._,
_Salop_, _Somers._
Doningas. Donington, _Linc._, _Leic._, _Salop_; Donnington,
_Berks._, _Glouc._, _Heref._, _Leic._, _Salop_,
_Sussx._
Deorcingas. Dorking, _Surr._
Dormingas. Dormington, _Heref._
Dorringas. Dorrington, _Linc._, _Salop._
Drihlingas. Drighlington, _York._
Dycingas. Duckington, _Chesh._; Dykings, _Linc._
Dyclingas. Ducklington, _Oxf._
Dylingas. Dullingham, _Camb._
Dyningas. Dunningley, _York._; Dunnington, _Warw._, _York._;
Dunningwith, _Suff._
Dyringas. Durrington, _Sussx._, _Wilts._
Ealingas. Ealing, _Mddx._; Eling, _Hants_.
Eardingas. Eardington, _Salop_; Erdington, _Warw._
Esingas. Eashing, _Surr._; Easington, _Bucks_, _Drhm._,
_Glouc._,
_Nthld._, _Oxf._, _York._; Easingwold, _York._
Eastingas. Eastington, _Dors._, _Glouc._, _Worc._
Eastlingas. Eastling, _Kent_.
Eastringas. Eastrington, _York._
Eberingas. Ebrington, _Glouc._
Ecgingas. Eckington, _Derby._, _Worc._; Eggington, _Bedf._;
Etchingham, _Sussx._
Edingas. Edingale, _Staff._; Edingley, _Notts._;
Edingthorpe, _Norf._; Edington, _Berks._,
_Nthld._, _Somers._, _Wilts._; Edingworth,
_Somers._
Eadlingas. Edlingham, _Nthld._; Edlington, _Linc._, _York._
Eafingas. Effingham, _Surr._
Ecglingas. Eglingham, _Nthld._
Elcingas. Elkington, _Nhamp._, _Linc._
Elringas. Ellerington, _Nthld._
Ellingas. Ellingham, _Hants_, _Norf._, _Nthld._;
Ellingstring,
_York._; Ellington, _Hunt._, _Kent_, _Nthld._, _York._
Elmingas. Elmington, _Nhamp._
Elsingas. Elsing, _Norf._
Eltringas. Eltringham, _Nthld._
Elfingas. Elvington, _York._
Empingas. Empingham, _Rutl._
Eppingas. Epping, _Essex_.
Earmingas. Ermington, _Devon_.
Eorpingas. Erpingham, _Norf._
Eorringas. Erringden, _York._
Essingas. Essington, _Staff._
Ettingas. Ettinghall, _Staff._
Eoferingas. Everingham, _York._
Efingas. Evingar, _Hants_; Evington, _Glouc._, _Leic._
Escningas. Exning, _Suff._
Fealcingas. Falkingham, _Linc._; Felkington, _Drhm._
Fealdingas. Faldingworth, _Linc._; Fawdington, _York._
Fearingas. Faringdon, _Devon_; Farringdon, _Dors._, _Hants_,
_Berks._, _Somers._; Farrington, _Lanc._,
_Somers._
Feorlingas. Farlington, _Hants_, _York._
Feormingas. Farmington, _Glouc._
Fearningas. Farningham, _Kent_.
Felmingas. Felmingham, _Norf._
Ferringas. Ferring, _Sussx._
Fiddingas. Fiddington, _Glouc._, _Somers._, _Wilts_.
Fillingas. Fillingham, _Linc._
Fincingas. Finchingfield, _Essex_.
Fingringas. Fingringhoe, _Essex_.
Finningas. Finningham, _Suff_.; Finningley, _Notts_, _York._;
Vennington, _Salop_.
Fitlingas. Fitting, _York._
Fleccingas. Fletching, _Sussx._
Fobingas. Fobbing, _Essex_.
Folcingas. Folkingham, _Linc._; Folkington, _Sussx._
Fordingas. Fordingbridge, _Hants_; Fordington, _Dors._,
_Linc._
Foðeringas. Fotheringay, _Nhamp._
Framingas. Framingham, _Norf._; Fremington, _Devon_, _York._
Framlingas. Framlingham, _Suff._; Framlington, _Nthld._
Frescingas. Fressingfield, _Suff._
Fringas. Fring, _Norf._; Fringford, _Oxf._
Frodingas. Frodingham, _Linc._, _York._
Funtingas. Funtington, _Sussx._
Fylingas. Fylingdales, _York._; Fylingthorpe, _York._
Gægingas. Gagingwell, _Oxf._; Ginge, _Berks._
Galmingas. Galmington, _Somers._
Gamelingas. Gamlingay, _Camb_.; Gembling, _York._
Gárlingas. Garlinge, _Kent_.
Gærsingas. Garsington, _Oxf._; Grassington, _York._;
Gressingham, _Lanc._; Gressenhall, _Norf._
Gealdingas. Yalding, _Kent_; Yielding, _Bedf._
Geddingas. Gedding, _Suff._; Geddington, _Nhamp._; Yeading,
_Mddx._; Yeddingham, _York._
Gearlingas. Yarlington, _Somers._
Gædlingas. Gedling, _Notts_.
Gearingas. Yarrington, _Oxf._
Gestingas. Gestingthorpe, _Essex_.
Geofoningas. Yeavening, _Nthld._
Giddingas. Gidding, _Hunt._
Geátingas. Yettington, _Devon_.
Gildingas. Gildingwells, _York._
Gillingas. Gilling, _York._; Gillingham, _Dors._, _Kent_,
_Norf._; Yelling, _Hunt._
Gimingas. Gimingham, _Norf._; Gimmingbrook, _Kent_.
Gipingas. Gipping, _Suff._
Gislingas. Gislingham, _Suff._
Gitlingas. Yetlington, _Nthld._
Glæstingas. Glastonbury, _Somers._
Glæferingas. Glevering, _Suff._
Goddingas. Goddington, _Oxf._
Goldingas. Golding Stoke, _Leic._; Goldings, _Surr._;
Goldington, _Bedf._, _Bucks_.
Gáringas. Goring, _Oxf._, _Suff._
Goðringas. Gotherington, _Glouc._
Grǽgingas. Grayingham, _Linc._
Gystlingas. Guestling, _Sussx._
Gytingas. Guyting, _Glouc._
Hæcingas. Hackington, _Kent_.
Hædingas. Haddington, _Linc._
Hallingas. Hallingbury, _Essex_; Hallington, _Linc._,
_Nthld._
Haningas. Hanningfield, _Essex_; Hannington, _Hants_,
_Nhamp._, _Wilts._
Hæpingas. Happing, _Norf._
Heardingas. Hardingham, _Norf._; Hardington, _Somers._;
Hardingstone, _Nhamp._; Harden, _York._;
Hardendale, _Wmld._; Hardenhuish, _Wilts._
Herelingas. Harling, _Norf._; Harlington, _Bedf._, _Mddx._,
_York._
Hearingas. Harrington, _Cumb._, _Linc._, _Nhamp._;
Harringworth, _Nhamp._
Heortingas. Harting, _Sussx._; Hartington, _Derby._, _Nthld._;
Hertingfordbury, _Herts_.
Heortlingas. Hartlington, _York._
Heorfingas. Harvington, _Worc._
Hæslingas. Haslingden, _Lanc._; Haslingfield, _Camb._;
Haslington, _Chesh._; Heslington, _York._
Hæsssingas. Hassingham, _Norf._
Hæstingas. Hastings, _Sussx._, _Berks._, _Warw._, _Nhamp._;
Hastingleyt, _Kent_; Hastingwood, _Essex_.
Hæferingas. Havering, _Essex_; Haveringham, _Suff._;
Haveringland, _Norf._
Hafocingas. Hawkinge, _Kent_.
Hæglingas. Hawling, _Glouc._; Hayling, _Hants._
Heáfodingas. Headingley, _York_; Headington, _Oxf._;
Heddington, _Wilts_; Hedingham, _Essex_.
Healingas. Healing, _Linc._
Hæcingas. Heckingham, _Norf._; Heckington, _Linc._;
Heighington, _Drhm._, _Linc._
Hellingas. Hellinghill, _Nthld._; Hellingly, _Sussx._
Helmingas. Helmingham, _Suff._; Helmington, _Drhm._
Helpringas. Helprington, _Linc._
Helsingas. Helsington, _Wmld._
Hemlingas. Hemblington, _Norf._; Hemlingford, _Warw._;
Hemlington, _York._, _Drhm._
Hemingas. Hemingbrough, _York._; Heminghy, _Linc._;
Hemingfield, _York._; Hemingford, _Hunt._;
Hemingstone, _Suff._; Hemington, _Nhamp._,
_Somers._
Hanesingas. Hensingham, _Cumb._; Hensington, _Oxf._
Heorringas. Herring, _Dors._; Herringby, _Norf._;
Herringfleet, _Suff._; Herringstone, _Dors._;
Herringswell, _Suff._; Herringthorpe, _York._;
Herrington, _Drhm._
Heofingas. Hevingham, _Norf._
Hicelingas. Hickling, _Norf._, _Notts_.
Hillingas. Hillingdon, _Mddx._; Hillington, _Norf._
Hindringas. Hindringham, _Norf._
Hócringas. Hockering, _Norf._
Hodingas. Hoddington, _Hants_.
Holdingas. Holdingham, _Linc._
Holingas. Hollingbourn, _Kent_; Hollingdon, _Bucks_;
Hollinghill, _Nthld._; Hollington, _Derb._,
_Staff._, _Sussx._; Hollingworth, _Chesh._
Homingas. Homington, _Wilts_.
Honingas. Honing, _Norf._; Honingham, _Norf._; Honington,
_Linc._, _Suff._, _Warw._
Horblingas. Horbling, _Linc._
Horningas. Horning, _Norf._; Horninghold, _Leic._;
Horninglow, _Staff._; Horningsea, _Camb._;
Horningsham, _Wilts_; Horningsheath, _Suff._;
Horningtoft, _Norf._
Horingas. Horrington, _Somers._
Horsingas. Horsington, _Linc._, _Somers._
Hoferingas. Hoveringham, _Notts_.
Hofingas. Hovingham, _York._
Hucingas, or } Hucking, _Kent_.
Hocingas. }
Hudingas. Huddington, _Worc._
Huningas, or } Hunningham, _Warw._; Hunnington, _Salop_.
Hundingas. }
Hunsingas. Hunsingore, _York._
Hyrstingas. Hurstingstone, _Hunt._
Icelingas. Icklingham, _Suff._
Illingas. Illington, _Norf._; Illingworth, _York._
Ilmingas. Ilmimgton, Glouc., _Warw._
Ilsingas. Ilsington, Devon., _Dors._
Immingas. Immingham, _Linc._
Impingas. Impington, _Camb._
Ipingas. Iping, _Sussx._
Irmingas. Irmingland, _Norf._
Irðingas. Irthington, _Cumb._
Irðlingas. Irthlingborough, _Nhamp._
Islingas. Islington, _Norf._, _Mddx._
Issingas. Issington, _Hants_.
Iccingas. Itchingswell, _Hants_; Itchington, _Glouc._,
_Warw._
Iteringas. Itteringham, _Norf._
Ifingas. Ivinghoe, _Bucks_; Ivington, _Heref._; Jevington,
_Sussx._
Læcingas. Lackington, _Somers._; Latchingdon, _Essex_.
Larlingas. Larling, _Norf._
Leortingas. Lartington, _York._
Leamingas. Leamington, _Warw._; Leeming, _York._; Lemington,
_Glouc._, _Nthld._
Leasingas. Leasingham, _Linc._; Lissington, _Linc._
Leafeningas. Leavening, _York._
Leafingas. Leavington, _York._; Levington, _Suff._
Læpingas. Leppington, _York._
Leðringas. Letheringham, _Suff._; Letheringsett, _Norf._
Læferingas. Leverington, _Camb._
Lexingas. Lexington, _Notts._
Lidingas. Liddington, _Rutl._, _Wilts_.
Lidlingas. Lidlington, _Bedf._
Lidesingas. Lidsing, _Kent_.
Lillingas. Lillings, _York._; Lillingstone, _Bucks_;
Lillington, _Dors._, Oxf., _Warw._
Limingas. Limington, _Somers._; Lyminge, _Kent_; Lymington,
_Hants_.
Lingas. Lings, _York._; Lingbob, _York._; Lingen,
_Heref._; Lingfield, _Surr._; Lingham, _Chesh._;
Lingwell Gate, _York._; Lingwood, _Norf._; Lyng,
_Norf._
Lytlingas. Littlington, _Camb._, _Sussx._
Locingas. Locking, _Somers._; Lockinge, _Berks._;
Lockington, _Leic._, _York._
Lodingas. Loddington, _Kent_, _Leic._, _Nhamp._
Loningas. Loningborough, _Kent_.
Lopingas. Loppington, _Salop_.
Lofingas. Lovington, _Somers._
Lucingas. Luckington, _Somers._, _Wilts_.
Ludingas. Luddington, _Linc._, _Warw._, _Hunt._, _Nhamp._
Lullingas. Lullingfield, _Salop._; Lullingstane, _Kent_;
Lullingstone, _Kent_; Lullington, _Derb._,
_Somers._, _Sussx._
Mædingas. Maddington, _Wilts_; Madingley, _Camb._
Mallingas. Malling, _Kent_, _Sussx._
Manningas. Manningford, _Wilts_; Manningham, _York._;
Mannington, _Dors._, _Norf._; Manningtree,
_Essex_; Monnington, _Heref._
Myrcingas. Marckington, _Staff._; Markington, _York._;
Markingfield, _York._
Mærlingas. Marlingford, _Norf._
Mæringas, or } Marrington, _Salop._; Mering, _Notts._;
Myrgings? Merrington, _Drhm._, _Salop_.
Mæssingas. Massingham, _Norf._; Messing, _Essex_; Messingham,
_Linc._
Mæccingas. Matching, _Essex_.
Mætingas. Mattingley, _Hants_; Mettingham, _Suff._
Mægdlingas. Maudling, _Sussx._
Mécingas. Meeching, _Sussx._
Mellingas. Melling, _Lanc._
Meðringas. Metheringham, _Linc._
Millingas. Millington, _Chesh._, _York._
Mintingas. Minting, _Linc._
Mollingas. Mollington, _Chesh._, _Oxf._, _Warw._
Mottingas. Mottingham, _Kent_.
Mycgingas. Mucking, _Essex_.
Næcingas[831]. Nackington, _Kent_; Nedging _Suff._
Næssingas. Nassington, _Nhamp._; Nazeing, _Essex_.
Nydingas. Needingworth, _Hunt._
Níwingas. Newington, _Kent_, _Notts_, _Oxf._, _York._,
_Glouc._, _Surr._, _Mddx._
Norðingas. Northington, _Hants_.
Nottingas[832]. Notting, _Bedf._; Nottington, _Dors._; Nottingham,
_Notts_, _Berks._
Oddingas. Oddingley, _Worc._; Oddington, _Glouc._, _Oxf._
Oldingas. Oldington, _Salop_.
Orlingas. Orlingbury, _Nhamp._
Orpedingas. Orpington, _Kent_.
Osmingas. Osmington, _Dors._
Ossingas. Ossington, _Notts_.
Oteringas. Otterington, _York._; Ottringham, _York._
Ofingas. Oving, _Bucks_, _Sussx._; Ovingdean, _Sussx._;
Ovingham, _York._, _Nthld._; Ovington, _Essex_,
_Hants_, _Norf._, _Nthld._, _York._
Pæccingas. Packington, _Derb._, _Leic._, _Staff._, _Warw._;
Patching, _Sussx._
Pædingas. Paddington, _Mddx._ (? Padan tún.)
Pællingas. Palling, _Norf._; Pallingham, _Sussx._;
Pallington, _Dors._
Pæmingas. Pamington, _Glouc._
Peartingas. Partington, _Chesh._
Pætringas. Patrington, _York._
Pætingas. Pattingham, _Salop_, _Staff._
Pæfingas. Pavingham, _Bedf._; Pevington, _Kent_.
Petlingas. Peatling, _Leic._
Pædlingas. Pedling, _Kent_.
Penningas. Pennington, _Hants, Lanc._
Piceringas. Pickering, _York._
Pidingas. Piddinghoe, _Sussx._; Piddington, _Nhamp._, _Oxf._
Pilcingas. Pilkington, _Lanc._
Pillingas. Pilling, _Lanc._
Pitingas. Pittington, _Drhm._
Poclingas. Pocklington, _York._
Podingas. Poddington, _Bedf._; Podington, _Dors._
Puntingas. Pointington, _Somers._
Polingas. Poling, _Sussx._; Pollington, _York._
Poringas. Poringland, _Norf._
Porcingas. Porkington, _Salop_.
Portingas. Portington, _York_.
Postlingas. Postling, _Kent_.
Potingas. Poting, _York._
Pucingas. Puckington, _Somers._
Púningas. Poynings, _Sussx._
Pydingas. Puddington, _Bedf._, _Chesh._, _Devon_.
Rædingas. Raddington, _Somers._; Reading, _Berks_;
Reading-street, _Kent_.
Rætlingas. Ratlinghope, _Salop_.
Ræfningas[833]. Raveningham, _Norf._
Rædlingas[833]. Redlingfield, _Suff._
Renningas. Rennington, _Nthld._
Ricingas. Rickinghall, _Suff._
Riclingas[833]. Rickling, _Essex_.
Ridingas. Riddinge, _Derb._; Riding, _Nthld._
Ridlingas. Ridlington, _Norf._, _Rutl._
Rillingas. Rillington, _York._
Rimmingas. Rimmington, _York._
Riplingas[833]. Riplingham, _York._; Riplington, _Hants_, _Nthld._
Ripingas[833]. Rippingale, _Linc._
Risingas[833]. Rising, _Norf._; Rissington, _Glouc._
Rifingas. Rivington, _Lanc._
Rocingas[833]. Rockingham, _Nhamp._
Rodingas. Roddington, _Salop._; Roding, _Essex_.
Rollingas. Rollington, _Dors._
Roringas. Rorrington, _Salop._
Rossingas. Rossington, _York._
Rotingas. Rottingdean, _Sussx._; Rottington, _Cumb._
Rowingas[834]. Rowington, _Warw._
Rucingas[834]. Ruckinge, _Kent_.
Rudingas[834]. Ruddington, _Notts_.
Runingas. Runnington, _Somers._
Ruscingas[834]. Ruskington, _Linc._
Rustingas. Rustington, _Sussx._