Part 5

On arriving at the rathhaus, which was crammed to overflowing with all the inhabitants of the place who could possibly wedge themselves into it, way was cleared for us through the crowd to the seats which had been considerately allotted for us, in front of the tribunal. A more extraordinary bench of justice was perhaps never convened. It was plain that the little village was steeped in poverty to the lips, and that I, having been entrapped, through an unconscious expression, in the meshes of some antiquated law, was doomed to administer in some measure to their need by the payment of a penalty and costs. The fat old fellow who presided as judge, and beneath whose robe of office an unctuous leathery surtout was all too visible, peered in vain through a pair of massive horn-spectacles into a huge timber-swathed volume in search of the act, the provisions of which I had violated. At length, the schoolmaster--a meagre, pensive-looking scarecrow, industriously patched all over--came to his assistance, turned over the ponderous code by which the little community were governed, and having rummaged out the law, and the clause under the provisions of which I had been so summarily arrested, handed it to the clerk, who I shrewdly suspected to be nothing more or less than the village barber. He, at the command of the judge, read it aloud for the information of all present, and for my especial admonition. From the contents, it appeared to have been decreed, how long ago I had no means of judging, that, for the better sustentation of good morals and good-breeding, and for the prevention of quarrelling, or unseemly and abusive conversation, any person who should call or designate any other person in the said town by the name of thief, villain, rascal, rogue (schurke), cheat, charlatan, impostor, wretch, coward, sneak, suborner, slanderer, tattler, and sundry other titles of ill-repute, which I cannot recollect now, and could not render into English were I to recall them, should, upon complaint of the person aggrieved, and upon proof of the offence by the evidence of worthy and truth-speaking witnesses, be amerced in such penalty, not exceeding a certain sum, as in the estimation of the presiding magistrate should be held to be a proper compensation for the injury to his reputation suffered by the plaintiff. When the clerk drew breath at the end of the long-winded clause, I inquired if the law in question made no counter-provision for cases which might occur where, the abusive term being richly deserved, it could be no crime to apply it. The schoolmaster, who, despite his patched habiliments, was a clever fellow, at once answered my question in the negative, and justified the omission of any such provision by contraverting the position I had advanced upon moral grounds. This he did in a speech of some length, and with remarkable ingenuity and good sense; proving--to the satisfaction of his fellow-townsmen at least--that to taunt a malefactor openly with his misdeeds, was not the way to reform him, while it was a sure mode of producing a contrary result; and winding up with an assurance, that the law was a good law, and perfect in all its parts; and that if I had suffered wrong, I might obtain at their hands redress as readily and with as much facility as my antagonist.

I had nothing to reply to this, and the proceedings went on in due form. Without being sworn, the plaintiff was called upon to state his case, which he did with an elaborate circumlocution altogether without a parallel in my experience. He detailed the whole history of his life--from his birth, in Wolfenbüttel, up to his seven years' service in the army; then followed his whole military career; and after that, his service under the _weg_-inspector, which was rewarded at length by the gratification of his honest ambition, in his appointment as supernumerary deputy road inspector of the district. He enlarged upon the service he had rendered to, and the honours he had received from, his country; and then put it to his judges to decide whether, as a public officer, a soldier, and a man of honour, he could submit to be stigmatised as a schurke, without appealing to the laws of his Fatherland to vindicate his character. Of course it was not to be thought of. He then detailed the circumstances of the assault I had made upon his character, forgetting to mention, however, the provocation he had given by the fraudulent charge for greasing. Having finished his peroration, he proceeded to call witnesses to the fact of the abuse, and cited Hans Felder, our postilion, to be first examined. Hans, who had heard every syllable that passed, was not, however, so manageable a subject as the plaintiff expected to find him. Whether, like Toby Allspice in the play, he 'made it a rule never to disoblige a customer;' or whether, which was not unlikely, he owed Karl Gurtler a grudge, either for stopping him on his route, or for some previous disagreement with that conscientious public functionary; or whether, which was likeliest of all, he feared to compromise his claim for _trinkgeld_ from the highborn, gracious gentlemen he had the honour of driving, I cannot pretend to determine. Certain it is, that when brought to the bar, he had heard nothing, and seen nothing, and knew nothing, and could recollect nothing, and say nothing, about the business in hand; and nothing but nothing could be got out of him by a single member of the bench, though all took him in hand by turns. He was finally sent down. By this time, so dilatory had been the proceedings, the sun was sinking in the west. My companion, weary of the prosecutor's long story, had withdrawn to the inn to order dinner. As the second witness was about to give his testimony, a note was handed to the old burgermeister, who, having given it a glance, immediately adjourned the court till the next morning at nine o'clock. The assembly broke up, and, returning to the inn, I found that the proceedings had been stopped by the landlord, to save the reputation of his cookery, which would have been endangered had the dinner waited much longer. Having first consulted my fellow-traveller, he had despatched directions to the judge to adjourn the case till the morrow, who, like a good and obliging neighbour, had accordingly done so.

The little town was unusually alive and excited that evening. Karl Gurtler was the centre of an admiring circle, who soon enveloped him in the incense of their meerschaums. He held a large levée in the common room of the inn, where a succession of very terrific battle-songs kept us up to a late hour, as it was of no use to think of slumber during their explosion. The next morning, at the appointed hour, the proceedings recommenced, and the remainder of the witnesses were examined at full length. It was in vain that I offered to plead guilty, and pay the penalty, whatever it might be, so that we might be allowed to proceed on our journey. I was solemnly reminded, that it was not for me to interrupt the course of justice, but to await its decision with patience. I saw they were determined to prevent our departure as long as possible; and, judging that the only way to assist in the completion of the unlucky business, was to interpose no obstacle to its natural course, I henceforth held my peace, conjuring my companion on no account to give directions for dinner. After a sitting of nearly seven hours on the second day, when everything that could be lugged into connection with the silly affair had been said and reiterated ten times over, the notary in attendance read over his condensed report of the whole, and I was called upon for my defence. I told them plainly that I did not choose to make any; that I was sick of the company of fools; that since it was a crime to speak the truth in their good town, I was willing to pay the penalty for so doing, for the privilege of leaving it; that I was astonished and disgusted at the spectacle of a company of grave men siding with such a beggarly _räuber_ (I believed that term was not proscribed in their precious statute) as Karl Gurtler was, and taking advantage of the law, of which a stranger must necessarily be ignorant, to obstruct him on his journey, and levy a contribution on his purse; and I added, finally, for I had talked myself into an angry mood, that if the farce were not immediately brought to a conclusion, I should despatch my friend forthwith to Berlin, and lay a report of their proceedings before the British ambassador. I could perceive something like consternation in the broad visage of the burgermeister as I concluded my harangue; but without attempting to answer it, the Solons on the bench laid their heads together, and after a muttering of a few minutes' duration, the schoolmaster pronounced the sentence of the court, which was, that I should indemnify the plaintiff to the amount of one dollar, and pay the costs of the proceedings, which amounted to three more. I could scarce forbear laughing at the mention of a sum so ludicrous. Fifteen shillings for penalty and costs of a trial which had lasted nearly two days! I threw down the money, and was hastening from the court, when the notary called upon me to stop for one moment, while he concluded his report of the case, to which, it appeared, their laws gave me a valid claim. I took the papers, and crammed them into my valise, in the hasty packing which took place so soon as I got back to my companion. In a quarter of an hour, we were on our road towards Berlin, having been taught a lesson of politeness, even towards rogues, at the expense of a stoppage of more than thirty hours on our route. I have no recollection how the papers found their way into the old trunk from which they were lately unkennelled. They are now before me, and consist of nearly fifty sides of small foolscap, written in a bold legal hand, affording a unique specimen of the cheapness of law amongst a community who, it is to be supposed, had but little demand for it.

A few short months after this event, and the little town where it took place had something else to think of. The ill-advised step of the Prussian government, who, relying upon the aid of Russia, declared war against Napoleon, brought the devastating hordes of republican France among them. The battle of Jena placed the whole kingdom at the foot of the conqueror; and few towns suffered more, comparatively, than the little burgh which, by the decree of a very doubtful sort of justice, had mulcted me in penalties for calling a very ill-favoured rogue by his right name.

TRACES OF THE DANES AND NORWEGIANS IN ENGLAND.

Mr J. J. A. Worsaae, a conspicuous member of that brilliant corps of northern antiquaries who have of late given a new wing to history, travelled through the United Kingdom in 1846-7, on a commission from his sovereign the king of Denmark, to make inquiry respecting the monuments and memorials of the Danes and Norwegians, which might still be extant in these islands. The result of his investigations appeared in a concise volume, which has been translated into English, and published by Mr Murray in a handsome style, being illustrated by numerous wood-cuts.[4] It is a work which we would recommend to the attention of all who feel any interest in our early history, as calculated to afford them a great gratification. One is surprised to find in how great a degree the Northmen affected Britain; what an infusion of Scandinavian blood there is in our population; how many traces of their predominancy survive in names of places and in more tangible monuments. Mr Worsaae writes with a warm feeling towards his country and her historical reminiscences, but without allowing it to carry him into any extravagances. He is everywhere clear and simple--sometimes rises into eloquence; and always displays a close and searching knowledge of his subject.

From the end of the eighth century till the time of the Norman Conquest, the restless chiefs of Denmark and Norway were continually in the practice of making piratical expeditions to our shores. They committed terrible devastations, and made many settlements, almost exclusively on the eastern coast. Finally, as is well known, we had a brief succession of Danish kings in England, including the magnanimous Canute. When we look at the quiet people now inhabiting Denmark and Norway, we are at a loss to understand whence came or where resided that spirit of reckless daring which inspired such a system of conquest, or how it came so completely to die out; but the explanation is, that the Northmen of those days were heathens, animated by a religion which made them utterly indifferent to danger. Whenever they became Christianised, they began to appreciate life like other men, and ceased, of course, to be the troublers they had once been. Mr Worsaae draws a line from London to Chester--the line of the great Roman road (Watling Street)--to the north of which the infusion of Scandinavian population is strong, and their monuments abundant. A vast number of names of places in that part of the island are of Danish origin--all ending in _by_, which in Danish signifies a town, as Whitby (the White Town), Derby (Deoraby, the town of Deer), Kirby (the church town), &c.--all ending in _thwaite_, which signifies an isolated piece of land--all ending in _thorpe_ (Old Northern, a collection of houses separated from some principal estate)--all ending in _næs_, a promontory, and _ey_ or _öe_, an island. _Toft_, a field; _with_, a forest; _beck_, a streamlet; _tarn_, a mountain-lake; _force_, a waterfall; _garth_, a large farm; _dale_, a valley; and _fell_, a mountain, are all of them common elements of names of places in England, north of the line above indicated, and all are Scandinavian terms. The terminations _by_, _thwaite_, and _thorpe_, are still common in Denmark.

Mr Worsaae found many memorials of the Northmen in London: for example, the church of St Clement's Danes, where this people had their burial-place; the name _Southwark_, which is 'unmistakably of Danish or Norwegian origin;' St Olave's Church there, and even Tooley Street, which is a corruption of the name of that celebrated Norsk saint; but, above all, in the fact that 'the highest tribunal in the city has retained in our day its pure old northern name "Husting."' The fact is, that about the time of Canute, the Danes predominated over the rest of the population of London. Mr Worsaae was not able to trace the Danish face or form as a distinct element in the modern population. In going northward, however, he soon began to find that the prevailing physiognomy was of a northern character: 'The form of the face is broader, the cheek-bones project a little, the nose is somewhat flatter, and at times turned a little upwards; the eyes and hair are of a lighter colour, and even deep-red hair is far from being uncommon. The people are not very tall in stature, but usually more compact and strongly built than their countrymen towards the south. The Englishman himself seems to acknowledge that a difference is to be found in the appearance of the inhabitants of the northern and southern counties; at least, one constantly hears in England, when red-haired, compact-built men with broad faces are spoken of: "They must certainly be from Yorkshire;" a sort of admission that light hair, and the broad peculiar form of the face, belong mostly to the north of England people.... In the midland, and especially in the northern part of England, I saw every moment, and particularly in the rural districts, faces exactly resembling those at home. Had I met the same persons in Denmark or Norway, it would never have entered my mind that they were foreigners. Now and then I also met with some whose taller growth and sharper features reminded me of the inhabitants of South Jutland, or Sleswick, and particularly of Angeln; districts of Denmark which first sent colonists to England. It is not easy to describe peculiarities which can be appreciated in all their details only by the eye; nor dare I implicitly conclude that in the above-named cases I have really met with persons descended in a direct line from the old Northmen. I adduce it only as a striking fact, which will not escape the attention of at least any observant Scandinavian traveller, that the inhabitants of the north of England bear, on the whole, more than those of any other part of that country, an unmistakable personal resemblance to the Danes and Norwegians.'

Scandinavian words abound in the popular language of those districts. 'On entering a house there, one will find the housewife sitting with her _rock_ (Dan., _Rok_; Eng., a distaff) and _spoele_ (Dan., _Spole_; Eng., spool, a small wheel on the spindle); or else she has set both her _rock_ and her _garnwindle_ (Dan., _Garnvinde_; Eng., reel or yarn-winder) aside, whilst standing by her _back-bword_ (Dan., _Bagebord_; Eng., baking-board) she is about to knead dough (Dan., _Deig_), in order to make the oaten-bread commonly used in these parts, at times, also, barley-bread; for _clap-bread_ (Dan., _Klappebröd_, or thin cakes beaten out with the hand), she lays the dough on the _clap-board_ (Dan., _Klappebord_.) One will also find the _bord-claith_ spread (Dan., _Bordklæde_; Eng. table-cloth); the people of the house then sit on the _bank_ or _bink_ (Dan., _Bænk_; Eng., bench), and eat _Aandorn_ (Eng., afternoon's repast), or, as it is called in Jutland and Fünen, _Onden_ (dinner.) The chimney (_lovver_) stands in the room; which name may perhaps be connected with the Scandinavian _lyre_ (Icelandic, _ljóri_)--namely, the smoke-hole in the roof or thatch (_thack_), out of which, in olden times, before houses had regular chimneys and "_lofts_" (Dan., _Loft_; Eng., roof, an upper room), the smoke (_reek_ or _reik_, Dan., _Rög_) left the dark (_mirk_ or _murk_, Dan., _Mörk_) room. Within is the _bower_ or _boor_ (Eng., bed-chamber), in Danish, _Buur_; as, for instance, in the old Danish word _Jomfrubuur_ (the maiden's chamber), and in the modern word _Fadebuur_ (the pantry.)'

Mr Worsaae only speaks the truth when he remarks how the name of the Danes has been impressed on the English mind. 'Legends about the Danes are,' he says, 'very much disseminated among the people, even in the south of England. There is scarce a parish that has not in some way or another preserved the remembrance of them. Sometimes, they are recorded to have burned churches and castles, and to have destroyed towns, whose inhabitants were put to the sword; sometimes, they are said to have burned or cut down forests; here are shewn the remains of large earthen mounds and fortifications which they erected; there, again, places are pointed out where bloody battles were fought with them. To this must be added the names of places--as, the _Danes-walls_, the _Danish forts_, the _Dane-field_, the _Dane-forest_, the _Danes-banks_, and many others of the like kind. Traces of Danish castles and ramparts are not only found in the southern and south-eastern parts of England, but also quite in the south-west, in Devonshire and Cornwall, where, under the name of _Castelton Danis_, they are particularly found on the sea-coast. In the chalk-cliffs, near Uffington, in Berkshire, is carved an enormous figure of a horse, more than 300 feet in length; which, the common people say, was executed in commemoration of a victory that King Alfred gained over the Danes in that neighbourhood. On the heights, near Eddington, were shewn not long since the intrenchments, which, it was asserted, the Danes had thrown up in the battle with Alfred. On the plain near Ashdon, in Essex, where it was formerly thought that the battle of Ashingdon had taken place, are to be seen some large Danish barrows which were long, but erroneously, said to contain the bones of the Danes who had fallen in it. The so-called dwarf-alder (_Sambucus ebulus_), which has red buds, and bears red berries, is said in England to have germinated from the blood of the fallen Danes, and is therefore also called _Daneblood_ and _Danewort_. It flourishes principally in the neighbourhood of Warwick; where it is said to have sprung from, and been dyed by, the blood shed there, when Canute the Great took and destroyed the town.

'Monuments, the origin of which is in reality unknown, are, in the popular traditions, almost constantly attributed to the Danes. If the spade or the plough brings ancient arms and pieces of armour to light, it is rare that the labourer does not suppose them to have belonged to that people. But particularly if bones or joints of unusual size are found, they are at once concluded to be the remains of the gigantic Danes, whose immense bodily strength and never-failing courage had so often inspired their forefathers with terror. For though the Englishman has stories about the cruelties of the ancient Danes, their barbarousness, their love of drinking, and other vices, he has still preserved no slight degree of respect for Danish bravery and Danish achievements. "As brave as a Dane," is said to have been an old phrase in England; just as "to strike like a Dane" was, not long since, a proverb at Rome. Even in our days, Englishmen readily acknowledge that the Danes are the "best sailors on the continent;" nay, even that, themselves of course excepted, they are "the best and bravest sailors in all the world." It is, therefore, doubly natural that English legends should dwell with singular partiality on the memorials of the Danes' overthrow. Even the popular ballads revived and glorified the victories of the English. Down to the very latest times was heard in Holmesdale, in Surrey, on the borders of Kent, a song about a battle which the Danes had lost there in the tenth century.'

In our own northern land, the Northmen committed as many devastations, and made nearly as many settlements, as in England. The Orcadian Islands formed, indeed, a Norwegian kingdom, which was not entirely at an end till the thirteenth century. In that group, and on the adjacent coasts of Caithness and Sutherlandshires, the appearance of the people, the names of places, and the tangible monuments, speak strongly of a Scandinavian infusion into the population. Sometimes, between the early Celtic people still speaking their own language, and the descendants of the Norwegians, a surprisingly definite line can be drawn. The island of Harris is possessed for the most part by a set of Celts, 'small, dark-haired, and in general very ugly;' but at the northern point, called 'the Ness,' we meet with people of an entirely different appearance. 'Both the men and women have, in general, lighter hair, taller figures, and far handsomer features. I visited several of their cabins, and found myself surrounded by physiognomies so Norwegian, that I could have fancied myself in Scandinavia itself, if the Gaelic language now spoken by the people, and their wretched dwellings, had not reminded me that I was in one of those poor districts in the north-west of Europe where the Gaels or Celts are still allowed a scanty existence. The houses, as in Shetland, and partly in Orkney, are built of turf and unhewn stones, with a wretched straw or heather roof, held together by ropes laid across the ridge of the house, and fastened with stones at the ends. The houses are so low, that one may often see the children lie playing on the side of the roof. The family and the cattle dwell in the same apartment, and the fire, burning freely on the floor, fills the house with a thick smoke, which slowly finds its way out of the hole in the roof. The sleeping-places are, as usual, holes in the side-walls.