Part 4

A loyal Briton does not lightly abandon what he conceives to be established or traditional views. This trait does not imply defect of philosophic insight or want of wide research. It denotes simply the influence of prepossession, opinionated habit, and conscious power. Nor is this influence unusual. Scholars differ even as "doctors" disagree. Dr. George Craik, whose name is familiar to every scholar of the English race, was liberal enough to concede, a quarter of a century before the advent of Du Chaillu as a Scandinavian protagonist, that the English language might have more of a Scandinavian than of a purely Germanic character; or, in other words, "more nearly resembled the Danish or Swedish than the modern German." The invading bands, he adds, by whom the dialect was originally brought over into Britain in the Fifth and Sixth centuries, were in all probability drawn in great part from the Scandinavian countries. At a still later date, too, this English population was directly and largely recruited from Denmark and the regions around the Baltic. Eastern and Northern England, from the middle of the Ninth Century, "was as much Danish as English." In the Eleventh Century the sovereign was a Dane.

M. Du Chaillu's theory rests upon other and perhaps stronger grounds, but these concessions from a thoughtful scholar at least will carry weight. The continuous existence of Scandinavian influence in England is suggestive of the circumstance that the Danish conquest of England preceded the Norman conquest by "exactly half a century." An Englishman (Odericus Vitalis), writing almost contemporaneously with the Norman conquest, describes his countrymen as having been found by the Normans "a rustic and almost illiterate people" (_agrestes et pene illiteratos_). And yet, says Dr. Craik, the dawn of the revival of letters in England may properly be dated from a point about fifty years antecedent to the Norman conquest. To what, then, must be ascribed this scholastic renascence? Very clearly to the intimate relations established between England and Normandy by Edward the Confessor. But there is no trace of the new literature (that of the Arabic school which was prevalent in Europe) having found its way to England "before the Norman conquest swept into the benighted old kingdom, carrying the torch of learning in its train." The name of Lanfranc alone gives splendor to that civilization which his genius created for the English race. He not only lighted the torch of learning, but he strengthened the reins of power. He restrained the lawless impetuosity of William the Conqueror; he imposed iron conditions upon the accession of William Rufus; he checked the atrocities, and finally broke the power, of Odo of Bayeux. His work was well done, and its effects are visible to this day. He was the real power behind the throne. It is not easy, says an eminent English writer, to trace through the length of centuries "the measureless and invisible benefits which the life of one scholar bequeaths to the world." But such was the life, the work, the bequest of this Norman scholar, who died honored and beloved even by the rude, sullen, and implacable race which had been subjugated by the Norman kings. But Dr. Craik, with all his liberality and learning, is not disposed to accept the theory of a great migration or settlement preceding, or accompanying or following, the Norman conquest in the Eleventh Century. To be sure, this theory was not elaborately or effectively presented until of late years; but Dr. Craik, writing as far back as the opening of our "War between the States," seems to contradict this theory by anticipation--"In point of fact, the Normans never transferred themselves in a body, or generally, to England. It was never thus taken possession of by the Normans. It was never colonized by these foreigners, or occupied by them in any other than a military sense. It received a foreign government, but not at all a new population." Yet even Dr. Craik seems to appreciate the lesson of "names." He thinks it remarkable, for instance, that though we find a good many names of natives of Gaul in connection with the last age of Roman literature, scarcely a British name has been preserved. Even in Juvenal's days the pleaders of Britain were trained by the eloquent scholars of Gaul. The significance of a name in determining family origin is a common assumption of our familiar speech. "That is a _Virginian_ name," we say; and if we find many Virginian names in a given locality we naturally infer that the town, or the county, or the locality, large or small, was originally settled by Virginians. In one of our old Bluegrass counties two of these settlements were made in pioneer times, about two miles apart. One is known as "Jersey Ridge," the other as "Tuckahoe." If in both localities we find an English stock with Anglo-Norman names we should naturally assume a common derivation from the Anglo-Norman branch of the great British race.

But that accomplished philologist, Dr. Craik, seems to be quite in sympathy with the views of Du Chaillu touching the ancestral relations of the Scandinavian to the English race; and Dr. Craik's eminent American compeer, Mr. George P. Marsh, is not hopelessly wedded to fixed conclusions, and has by no means overlooked the obvious Scandinavian affinities of the English tongue. "Almost every sound," says the latter, "which is characteristic of English orthoëpy, is met with in one or other of the Scandinavian languages, and almost all their peculiarities, except those of intonation, _are found in English_; while between our articulation and that of the German dialects the most nearly related to the _Anglo-Saxon_ there are many irreconcilable discrepancies." If to determine the relative proportions of linguistic and ethnic elements in dialect and race were "a hopeless and unprofitable task," this would seem to invalidate all general conclusions in the matter.

A few days after the very lively discussion of M. Du Chaillu's epochal paper in the Free Library of Newcastle, there appeared in a great newspaper a contemporary estimate of his views, which was received by its multitudinous constituency with profound interest and respect. It was the rolling voice of "the Thunderer"--the famous London _Times_. In all crises in the national life, the influence of this journal is felt. It is not a mere priestly oracle, silent except at times, but a divinity that never ceases to speak; clothed with strangely beneficent powers, and in the exercise of legitimate influence as resistless as the fabled might of the Scandinavian Thor. It _forms_ opinion;--it _fixes_ opinion;--it _reflects_ opinion;--it gives effect to the popular will. It has been felicitously characterized as the "vast shadow of the public mind."

On the 21st of September, 1889, the _Times_, after a full report of the ethnological discussion in Section H, had this to say by way of editorial comment: "Perhaps the great sensation of the Section was M. Du Chaillu's paper, intended to prove that we are _all Scandinavians_.... This paper, combined with that of Canon Taylor, and the discussion that followed both, seemed to show that the time is ripe for a perfectly new investigation of the whole question of the origin and migration of the races which inhabit Europe and Asia; and, that, on lines in which language will play only a subordinate part."

Thus much for the startling theory discussed by the Anthropological Section at Newcastle.

In a subsequent correspondence, which appeared in the London _Times_, M. Du Chaillu challenged archæologists to point out remains in any other part of Europe so like those of the early Anglo-Saxons in England as the relics he figures from Scandinavia in England. It is not always easy to indicate with precision the cradle of an ancient race; and even if such remains were found on the coasts of Holland and North Germany, the discovery would not seriously affect the conclusions that seem to have been reached as to ancestral relations of the Scandinavian and the Norman to the English race in England and the United States. One might abandon altogether the main line of M. Du Chaillu's argument, (1) his careful analysis of the Sagas and other ancient documents and (2) his comparison of the antiquities upon which the challenge rests, and yet there would remain something more than a strong presumption that the animating principle of the English race, in its leading branches, is the Scandinavian blood. It would seem to be quite in conformity with the law of nature that the daring, crafty, and indomitable race which still shapes the political destinies of men, which is historically traceable in its schemes of conquest and subjugation for a thousand years, and which is precisely traceable upon geographical lines in its movements of colonization or war, should have derived its enterprising characteristics from the only race which has demonstrably transmitted its conquering and colonizing traits within historic times: to wit, the Scandinavian pirates that were conceived upon stormy waters, spawned upon an icy coast, and swept, apparently in a career of predestined conquest, from the waters of the Baltic to the ends of the earth. The nations shrank from the Rover in fear. The Frenchman, at least, learned to dread his power, and the Saxon submitted with sullen acquiescence to his rule. He sowed the seed of conquest with his blood, and upon whatever shore he drove his keel he planted himself fiercely upon the soil to stay. Is it to be supposed for an instant that this puissant racial force was dissipated and lost? Not so. The light, the fire, the sweep, the coruscating energies, the resistless currents, the driving forces are still there. The power is not "off"!

Nevertheless, it may be--to use the phrase of the London _Times_--that "the time for a new investigation of the whole question is now ripe."

VI

Those were stirring days in the old Northumbrian city by the sea. And to the utmost border of that ancient kingdom the busy populations were alive with expectation and hope. Little cared they for the Sea Rover now. He no longer enjoyed, as once, the freedom of the city and the sea. They were really as indifferent to the vexed question as the philosophic Canon Taylor humorously affected to be. The loquacious savants might settle matters to suit themselves; but there was another question, probably of equal importance, for popular consideration; and a question of far greater moment too, to a man with blood in his veins; a question which touched at once the pocket and the heart; to wit, the last of the classic races at Doncaster, the St. Leger and the great Yorkshire Stakes. Will the Duke of Portland's "Donovan"--a Southern horse of great beauty, speed, and "luck"--win in the coming contest with "Chitabob," the pride and hope of the North? There was anxiety in every face. The touts had come from their work at Doncaster, and Chitabob was reported to be lame; his old enemy (rheumatism) had seized his foreleg; he was not equal to a canter: could do only three hours' walk in the paddock near the ring. In spite of the conditions and the resulting consternation of Chitabob's friends, his nervy young owner insists that "matters are not so bad as they seem, and the _horse will run_." Meantime, the betting is against him--two to one on Donovan; in rapid sequence six--seven--ten against Chitabob. The situation was highly sensational; the state of excitement in Doncaster was intense; even Chitabob's friend, "Guyon" (a noted sportsman), had surrendered hope. The owner, young Mr. Perkins, was alone undismayed; and the men of the stalls were as game as the horse. "He can win on three legs," they declared. "I do not think so," said Guyon, "and though common sense prompts me to go for Donovan, I am full of hope and sympathy for Chitabob. The splendid fellow has always carried my money, and I will back him to-day. He is too grand a horse to let him run loose, but it is very clear to my mind that Donovan will win." The loyal sportsman proved to be an infallible prophet--_Chitabob lost_.

As one looks intently upon such a scene as this, Doncaster disappears and Kentucky rises on the eye. The story of Chitabob recalls the traditions of Grey Eagle, that superb and exquisite idol of the mid-century Kentuckian's heart; his brilliant and exciting contest with Wagner; his gallant start, his matchless stride, the vast crowd, the wild applause;--"the strained tendon," the slackened speed, the failing strength--the lost race. But the defeated racer was always (like Clay or Breckinridge) the idol of the State;--_the Champion of Kentucky_--as Chitabob was the Champion of the North.

Imported "Yorkshire" was, likewise, a famous horse in the history of the Southern turf, and his blood still mingles with that of our finest strains. We note in Kentucky a noble reproduction of the old lines, both in man and horse; it was entirely fit that such a Virginian as Commodore Morgan should bestow such a gift as "Yorkshire" upon such a Kentuckian as Henry Clay. It was a gift for a king, and there were marks of royal lineage in both man and horse; lines that were souvenirs of a royal race. Traditions tell us, and the casual traveler notes abundant proof of the fact, that the "typical Kentuckian" is indebted for many of his traits to the old Northumbrian blood. Even the familiar speech of the Yorkshireman recalls much that is characteristic in the dialect of Kentucky; as "mad," for angry or vexed; "thick," for friendly or intimate; "thumping," for big; "rattling good," for very good; "plump," for quite or entirely, as "shot plump through"; "whole lot," for a large number; "what's up?" for what's the matter? etc. Were not these words and phrases conveyed by racial migration from the North of England to Virginia and from Virginia to Kentucky in days lang syne? Have you never heard among the old horsemen of the Bluegrass the odd expression, "The colt will be two years old next 'grass'"? "It is curious," says Mr. Marsh, "that the same expression is used in _Scandinavia_." In Denmark and Sweden, he adds, as well as in England, the gentlemen of the chase and turf reckon the age of their animals by "springs"--the season of verdure being the ordinary "birth season" of the horse; and a colt, therefore, is said to be so many years old next "grass."

The same writer informs us that the names of the two brothers, Hengist and Horsa--both names of the genus _horse_--are words in one or another form common to all the Scandinavian dialects. A Danish colonel told Mr. Marsh that in a company in his regiment there were two privates bearing these names, who were as inseparable in their association as the Hengist and Horsa of old. An ardent theorist, like a jealous lover, may find confirmation strong in trifles light as air. It is a far cry from old Scandinavia to old Kentucky, but what brain is broad enough, what spirit is subtle enough, to comprehend the variety and infinitude of delicate, airy, intangible influences by which the busy hands of destiny have brought them together? Not the least of these agencies were affinities, customs, explorations, battles, contests, migrations, and the "wingy mysteries" of kindred names or words.

Edward Lee Childe, in his admirable life of his kinsman, General Robert Lee (Paris, France, 1874), says that in 1192 we find a Lionel Lee at the head of a company of gentlemen accompanying Richard of the Lion-Heart in his third Crusade. In the original the word here translated "gentlemen" is _gentilshommes_. A word of somewhat different connotation from its English equivalent, but sufficiently alike in meaning to justify the assumption that England is indebted to Normandy for the word, and, essentially, for what the word connotes or implies--_the chief or leader of a family or gens_. The followers of Lionel Lee were, therefore, a military élite. The original conception of the word still lingers among the Anglo-Norman races. That the word in its later English form has taken on a finer sense is illustrated by the famous speech of the Great Nicholas to Sir Hamilton Seymour. The diplomacy of the Czar neither asked nor conceded conventional guarantees. "Before all things," he said, "I am an English gentleman" (_un gentilhomme Anglais_). The word "cavalierism," used by M. Taine, reminds us that England, long before the Conquest, was indebted to Normandy for the "Cavalier"; that the "man-on-horseback" was the Cavalier; that the Cavalier and gentilhomme were conspicuous in the ranks of the Conqueror, and, not to be too precise, may be said to have come down the centuries together. In a certain conventional sense it is proper, no doubt, to say that the Cavalier in England was a gentleman; and, always, in Normandy _un gentilhomme_. But it was only in later days, as in the splendid epoch of the Stuarts, that the qualities of the gentleman, fusing with the character of the Cavalier, gave a peculiar dignity, elevation, and distinction to the natural and recognized leaders of the English race. But the bonniest cavalier, undisciplined by social culture, had precisely those defects of his qualities which the term "cavalierism" was invented by Sir Walter Scott to express. The qualities depicted in Esmond by Thackeray were not conspicuous in Scott's portraiture of "Claverhouse" or "Montrose." Gentilhomme, Cavalier, and Gentleman were descriptive terms evolved under similar historic conditions, and derived from the same linguistic source. An Anglo-Norman Kentuckian who figured conspicuously in the late War between the States humorously adjusted all differences as to the proper designation in that day, by addressing his friends in familiar conversation as "Gentle-homines," a felicitous appellative not only for Kentuckians, but for friendly Indians as well. The _effigies_ of the "man-on-horseback" (a familiar phrase in English ears) was officially introduced to the English public by an English king, who in everything save birth and blood was typically Norman himself. It is indelibly stamped upon the Great Seal of England, and not upon one seal alone. The most casual inspection of the famous Guildhall collection will show, stamped upon Seal after Seal through a long succession of Anglo-Norman kings, the same equestrian figure which, obviously of Norman origin, had appeared in England before the Conquest; and which centuries later was designed by an Anglo-Norman engraver upon the Great Seal of the American Confederate States. The artist was Wyon (engraver to the Queen), and the original of the symbolic figure was that immortal Cavalier, GEORGE WASHINGTON--a man of Anglo-Norman blood.

It may be said that Kentucky offered physical conditions that were exceptional, for the production of "Cavaliers."

A scientific explorer found upon the icy coast of the Straits of Magellan a growth of English grass--fresh, green, flourishing, and as full of fight for existence as the stock or race from which it took its name. It was like the grass described in the Hudibrastic skit of the bluegrass Colonel:

"Where bluegrass grew the winter through-- And where it blooms in summer, too."

It was a species of _Poa_, closely akin in its characteristics to _Poa Pratensis_, the famous Bluegrass of Kentucky--a cosmopolitan grass; at home everywhere, but always seeking congenial skies; rooting itself firmly and clinging tenaciously; standing in with the rich soils and the strong races; unseating old sod; standing off all casual intruders; driving out all competing grasses; casting its own lines in pleasant places; dividing honors with _Zea Mays_, the stateliest of all grasses, and yielding to no competition save here and there to the cryptic, mossy growth that at last covers with oblivion the homes and the tombs of men. Even the grasping, aggressive _Poa_ yields to the power of _moss_; and mossback monstrosities may be found even among the vigorous offshoots of the Anglo-Norman race. Yet, was it not an extraordinary incident of the evolution of our Western world that in the genesis of the Commonwealth of Kentucky two such factors or agencies as the _Race_ and the _Grass_--inseparably linked--should be predestined each to a special function in the common work? "Either," said a sagacious observer from New England, "no other land ever lent itself so easily to civilization as the Bluegrass region, or it was _exceptionally fortunate in its inhabitants_." The alternative suggests that if this miracle of evolution be attributable to _either_ of the causes named--_civilizableness of the land or adaptableness of race_--then there can be but one conclusion should the result be ascribed to the operation of _both_. This speculative suggestion as to the genetic or determining element in the evolution of the Bluegrass State came from the pen of that gifted and genial writer, Charles Dudley Warner, many years ago. He was then visiting Kentucky, and reporting in a series of papers his observations, as a visitor, for an influential publication in the East. Please note this unconscious implication as to _grass_ and _race_ from a philosophic tourist of the olden times. "Grass" or "Race"--but what Race?

VII