CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION
Readers
are drawn to medieval literature in many different ways, and it is
hardly possible to describe all the attractions and all the
approaches by which they enter on this ground. Students of history
have to learn the languages of the nations with whose history they
are concerned, and to read the chief books in those languages, if
they wish to understand rightly the ideas, purposes and temper of the
past ages. Sometimes the study of early literature has been
instigated by religious or controversial motives, as when the
Anglo-Saxon homilies were taken up and edited and interpreted in
support of the Reformation. Sometimes it is mere curiosity that leads
to investigation of old literature—a wish to find out the meaning
of what looks at first difficult and mysterious. Curiosity of this
sort, however, is seldom found unmixed; there are generally all sorts
of vague associations and interests combining to lead the explorer
on. It has often been observed that a love of Gothic architecture, or
of medieval art in general, goes along with, and helps, the study of
medieval poetry. Chatterton’s old English reading and his
imitations of old English verse were inspired by the Church of St.
Mary Redcliffe at Bristol. The lives of Horace Walpole, of Thomas
Warton, of Sir Walter Scott, and many others show how medieval
literary studies may be nourished along with other kindred
antiquarian tastes.Sometimes,
instead of beginning in historical or antiquarian interests, or in a
liking for the fashions of the Middle Ages in general, it happens
that a love of medieval literature has its rise in one particular
author, e.g. Dante or Sir Thomas Malory. The book, the
Divina Commedia
or
Le Morte d’Arthur,
is taken up, it may be, casually, with no very distinct idea or
purpose, and then it is found to be engrossing and captivating—what
is often rightly called ‘a revelation of a new world’. For a long
time this is enough in itself; the reader is content with Dante or
with the
Morte d’Arthur.
But it may occur to him to ask about ‘the French book’ from which
Malory got his adventures of the Knights of King Arthur; he may want
to know how the legend of the Grail came to be mixed up with the
romances of the Round Table; and so he will be drawn on, trying to
find out as much as possible and plunging deeper and deeper into the
Middle Ages. The same kind of thing happens to the reader of Dante;
Dante is found all through his poem acknowledging obligations to
earlier writers; he is not alone or independent in his thought and
his poetry; and so it becomes an interesting thing to go further back
and to know something about the older poets and moralists, and the
earlier medieval world in general, before it was all summed up and
recorded in the imagination of the Divine Comedy. Examples of this
way of reading may be found in the works of Ruskin and in Matthew
Arnold. Matthew Arnold, rather late in his life (in the introductory
essay to T. H. Ward’s
English Poets),
shows that he has been reading some old French authors. He does not
begin with old French when he is young; evidently he was brought to
it in working back from the better known poets, Dante and Chaucer.
Ruskin’s old French quotations are also rather late in the series
of his writings; it was in his Oxford lectures, partly published in
Fors Clavigera,
that he dealt with
The Romance of the Rose,
and used it to illustrate whatever else was in his mind at the time.Thus
it is obvious that any one who sets out to write about English
literature in the Middle Ages will find himself addressing an
audience which is not at all in agreement with regard to the subject.
Some will probably be historical in their tastes, and will seek, in
literature, for information about manners and customs, fashions of
opinion, ‘typical developments’ in the history of culture or
education. Others may be on the look-out for stories, for the charm
of romance which is sometimes thought to belong peculiarly to the
Middle Ages, and some, with ambitions of their own, may ask for
themes that can be used and adapted in modern forms, as the Nibelung
story has been used by Wagner and William Morris and many others;
perhaps for mere suggestions of plots and scenery, to be employed
more freely, as in Morris’s prose romances, for example. Others,
starting from one favourite author—Dante or Chaucer or Malory—will
try to place what they already know in its right relation to all its
surroundings—by working, for instance, at the history of religious
poetry, or the different kinds of story-telling. It is not easy to
write for all these and for other different tastes as well. But it is
not a hopeless business, so long as there is some sort of interest to
begin with, even if it be only a general vague curiosity about an
unknown subject.There
are many prejudices against the Middle Ages; the name itself was
originally an expression of contempt; it means the interval of
darkness between the ruin of ancient classical culture and the modern
revival of learning—a time supposed to be full of ignorance,
superstition and bad taste, an object of loathing to well-educated
persons. As an example of this sort of opinion about the Middle Ages,
one may take what Bentham says of our ‘barbarian ancestors’—‘few
of whom could so much as read, and those few had nothing before them
that was worth the reading’. ‘When from their ordinary
occupation, their order of the day, the cutting of one another’s
throats, or those of Welshmen, Scotchmen or Irishmen, they could
steal now and then a holiday, how did they employ it? In cutting
Frenchmen’s throats in order to get their money: this was active
virtue:—leaving Frenchmen’s throats uncut was indolence, slumber,
inglorious ease.’On
the other hand, the Middle Ages have been glorified by many writers;
‘the Age of Chivalry’, the ‘Ages of Faith’ have often been
contrasted with the hardness of the age of enlightenment,
rationalism, and material progress; they are thought of as full of
colour, variety, romance of all sorts, while modern civilization is
represented as comparatively dull, monotonous and unpicturesque. This
kind of view has so far prevailed, even among people who do not go to
any extremes, and who are not excessively enthusiastic or romantic,
that the term ‘Gothic’, which used to be a term of contempt for
the Middle Ages, has entirely lost its scornful associations.
‘Gothic’ was originally an abusive name, like ‘Vandalism’; it
meant the same thing as ‘barbarian’. But while ‘Vandalism’
has kept its bad meaning, ‘Gothic’ has lost it. It does not now
mean ‘barbarous’, and if it still means ‘unclassical’ it does
not imply that what is ‘unclassical’ must be wrong. It is
possible now to think of the Middle Ages and their literature without
prejudice on the one side or the other. As no one now thinks of
despising Gothic architecture simply because it is not Greek, so the
books of the Middle Ages may be read in a spirit of fairness by those
who will take the trouble to understand their language; they may be
appreciated for what they really are; their goodness or badness is
not now determined merely by comparison with the work of other times
in which the standards and ideals of excellence were not the same.The
language is a difficulty. The older English books are written in the
language which is commonly called Anglo-Saxon; this is certainly not
one of the most difficult, but no language is really easy to learn.
Anglo-Saxon poetry, besides, has a peculiar vocabulary and strange
forms of expression. The poetical books are not to be read without a
great deal of application; they cannot be rushed.Later,
when the language has changed into what is technically called Middle
English—say, in the thirteenth century—things are in many ways no
better. It is true that the language is nearer to modern English; it
is true also that the language of the poetical books is generally
much simpler and nearer that of ordinary prose than was the language
of the Anglo-Saxon poets. But on the other hand, while Anglo-Saxon
literature is practically all in one language, Middle English is
really not a language at all, but a great number of different
tongues, belonging to different parts of the country. And not only
does the language of Yorkshire differ from that of Kent, or Dorset,
or London, or Lancashire, but within the same district each author
spells as he pleases, and the man who makes a copy of his book also
spells as he pleases, and mixes up his own local and personal
varieties with those of the original author. There is besides an
enormously greater amount of written matter extant in Middle English
than in Anglo-Saxon, and this, coming from all parts of the country,
is full of all varieties of odd words. The vocabulary of Middle
English, with its many French and Danish words, its many words
belonging to one region and not to another, is, in some ways, more
difficult than that of Anglo-Saxon.But
luckily it is not hard, in spite of all these hindrances, to make a
fair beginning with the old languages—in Anglo-Saxon, for example,
with Sweet’s
Primer
and
Reader,
in Middle English with Chaucer or
Piers Plowman.The
difference in language between Anglo-Saxon and Middle English
corresponds to a division in the history of literature. Anglo-Saxon
literature is different from that which follows it, not merely in its
grammar and dictionary, but in many of its ideas and fashions,
particularly in its fashion of poetry. The difference may be
expressed in this way, that while the older English literature is
mainly English, the literature after the eleventh century is largely
dependent on France; France from 1100 to 1400 is the chief source of
ideas, culture, imagination, stories, and forms of verse. It is
sometimes thought that this was the result of the Norman Conquest,
but that is not the proper explanation of what happened, either in
language or in literature. For the same kind of thing happened in
other countries which were not conquered by the Normans or by any
other people speaking French. The history of the German language and
of German literature in the Middle Ages corresponds in many things to
the history of English. The name Middle English was invented by a
German philologist (Grimm), who found in English the same stages of
development as in German; Anglo-Saxon corresponds to Old German in
its inflexions; Middle English is like Middle German. The change, in
both languages, is a change from one kind of inflexion to another. In
the ‘Old’ stage (say, about the year 900) the inflexions have
various clearly pronounced vowels in them; in the ‘Middle’ stage
(about 1200) the terminations of words have come to be pronounced
less distinctly, and where there is inflexion it shows most commonly
one vowel, written
e,
where the ‘Old’ form might have
a
or
o
or
u.
Changes of this kind had begun in England before the Norman Conquest,
and would have gone on as they did in Germany if there had been no
Norman Conquest at all. The French and the French language had
nothing to do with it.Where
the French were really important was in their ideas and in the forms
of their poetry; they made their influence felt through these in all
Western Christendom, in Italy, in Denmark, and even more strongly in
Germany than in England. Indeed it might be said that the Norman
Conquest made it less easy for the English than it was for the
Germans to employ the French ideas when they were writing books of
their own in their own language. The French influence was too strong
in England; the native language was discouraged; many Englishmen
wrote their books in French, instead of making English adaptations
from the French. The Germans, who were independent politically, were
not tempted in the same way as the English, and in many respects they
were more successful than the English as translators from the French,
as adapters of French ‘motives’ and ideas. But whatever the
differences might be between one nation and another, it is certain
that after 1100 French ideas were appreciated in all the countries of
Europe, in such a way as to make France the principal source of
enlightenment and entertainment everywhere; and the intellectual
predominance of France is what most of all distinguishes the later
medieval from the earlier, that is, from the Anglo-Saxon period, in
the history of English literature.The
leadership of France in the literature of Europe may be dated as
beginning about 1100, which is the time of the First Crusade and of
many great changes in the life of Christendom. About 1100 there is an
end of one great historical period, which began with what is called
the Wandering of the German nations, and their settlement in various
parts of the world. The Norman Conquest of England, it has been said,
is the last of the movements in the wandering of the nations. Goths
and Vandals, Franks, Burgundians, Lombards, Angles, Jutes and Saxons,
Danes and Northmen, had all had their times of adventure,
exploration, conquest and settlement. One great event in this
wandering was the establishment of the Norwegian settlers in France,
the foundation of Normandy; and the expeditions of the Normans—to
Italy as well as to England—were nearly the last which were
conducted in the old style. After the Norman Conquest there are new
sorts of adventure, which are represented in Chaucer’s Knight and
Squire—the one a Crusader, or Knight errant, the other (his son)
engaged in a more modern sort of warfare, England against France,
nation against nation.The
two forms of the English language, Anglo-Saxon and Middle English,
and the two periods of medieval English literature, correspond to the
two historical periods of which one ends and the other begins about
1100, at the date of the First Crusade. Anglo-Saxon literature
belongs to the older world; Anglo-Saxon poetry goes back to very
early times and keeps a tradition which had come down from ancient
days when the English were still a Continental German tribe. Middle
English literature is cut off from Anglo-Saxon, the Anglo-Saxon
stories are forgotten, and though the old alliterative verse is kept,
as late as the sixteenth century, it is in a new form with a new tune
in it; while instead of being the one great instrument of poetry it
has to compete with rhyming couplets and stanzas of different
measure; it is hard put to it by the rhymes of France.