Edward Freeman - The Growth of the English Constitution

Our fathers then came into Britain, and they brought with them the same primæval political system, the same distinctions of rank, the same division of political power, which they had been used to in their elder Anglian and Saxon homes. The circumstances of the Conquest would no doubt bring about some changes. It would probably tend to increase the numbers of the class of slaves. Such of the natives as were neither slain nor driven out would of course pass into that class. Especially, though there is no doubt that our forefathers brought their women with them from their own homes, there is no doubt that many British women passed into bondage, so much so that one of the common Old-English names for a female slave is Wylne or Welshwoman 27. And we may infer that this increased familiarity with slavery would tend to strengthen the custom by which freemen guilty of crimes were reduced to slavery by sentence of law. Again, I suspect that the circumstances of the Conquest did something to raise the position both of the common freeman and of the King or leader, as compared with the intermediate class of nobles. No two things are more levelling than colonization and successful warfare. The levelling effect of colonization is obvious; the levelling effect of warfare is not so obvious in modern times. In modern armies, where there is a strictly defined system of military ranks, where the distinction of officer and private is broadly drawn, where the private soldier is little more than a machine in the hands of his commander, the effect may even be the other way. But in an earlier state of things, where victory depends on the individual prowess of each man, nothing can be more levelling than warfare. Honour and profit fall to the lot of the stoutest heart and the strongest arm, whether their owner be noble or peasant in his own land. And this would be still more the case when war and colonization went hand in hand, when success brought not only victory but conquest, when men fought, not to go back loaded with glory and plunder to their old homes, but to win for themselves new homes as the reward of their valour. On the other hand, in an early state of things personal influence is almost everything; a vigorous and popular ruler is practically absolute, because no one has the wish to withstand his will, but a weak or unpopular ruler can exercise no authority whatever. In such a state of things as this no one can so easily gain the authority of unbounded influence as the military chief who leads his tribe to victory. And again, that influence would be increased tenfold when the successful chief led them not only to victory but to conquest, when he was not only a ruler but a founder, the man who had led his people to win for themselves a new land, to create a new state, the prize of his sword and of theirs. Mere nobility of birth, however highly honoured, would be but a feeble influence compared with either of these influences above and below it. I think that we may trace something of the results of these influences in the position of the oldest English nobility. That there was a difference between the noble and the common freeman, in Old-English phrase between the Eorl and the Ceorl 28, is shown by countless allusions to the distinction in our earliest records. But it is by no means easy to say what the distinction really was. And, as we shall presently see that this primitive nobility gradually gave way to a nobility of quite another kind and founded on quite another principle, we may perhaps be inclined to think that, at least after the settlement of the English in Britain, the privileges of the Eorlas were little more than honorary. I need hardly say that a traditional deference for high birth, a traditional preference for men of certain families in the disposal of elective offices, may go on when birth carries with it no legal privilege whatever. Nowhere has this been more strikingly shown than in those democratic Cantons of Switzerland of which I have already spoken. In a commonwealth where magistrates were chosen yearly, where every freeman had an equal vote in their choice, it still happened that, year after year, the representatives of certain famous houses were chosen as if by hereditary right. Such were the Barons of Attinghausen in Uri and the house of Tschudi in Glarus 29. And, whatever we say of such a custom in other ways, it was surely well suited to have a good effect on the members of these particular families; it was well suited to raise up in them a succession of men fitted to hold the high offices of the commonwealth. A man who knows that, if he be at all worthy of a certain post of honour, he will be chosen to it before any other man, but who also knows that, if he shows himself unworthy of it, he may either fail to attain it at all or may be peacefully removed from it at the end of any twelvemonth, is surely under stronger motives to make himself worthy of the place which he hopes to fill than either the man who has to run the chance of an unlimited competition or the man who succeeds to honour and authority by the mere right of his birth.

Our fathers then came into Britain, bringing with them the three elements of the primitive constitution which we find described by Tacitus; but as I am inclined to think, the circumstances of the Conquest did something, for a while at least, to strengthen the powers both of the supreme chief and of the general body of the people at the expense of the intermediate class of Eorlas or nobles. Let us first trace the origin and growth of the power of the supreme leader, in other words, the monarchic element, the kingly power. What then is a King? The question is much more easily asked than answered. The name of King has meant very different things in different times and places; the amount of authority attached to the title has varied greatly in different times and places. Still a kind of common idea seems to run through all its different uses; if we cannot always define a King, we at least commonly know a King when we see him. The King has, in popular sentiment at least, a vague greatness and sanctity attaching to him which does not attach to any mere magistrate, however high in rank and authority. I am not talking of the reason of the thing, but of what, as a matter of fact, has at all times been the popular feeling. Among the heathen Swedes, it is said that, when public affairs went wrong, – that is, in the state of things when we should now turn a Minister out of office and when our forefathers some generations back would have cut off his head, – they despised any such secondary victims, and offered the King himself in sacrifice to the Gods 30. Such a practice certainly implies that our Scandinavian kinsfolk had not reached that constitutional subtlety according to which the responsibility of all the acts of the Sovereign is transferred to some one else. They clearly did not, like modern constitution-makers, look on the person of the King as inviolable and sacred. But I suspect that the very practice which shows that they did not look on him as inviolable shows that they did look on him as sacred. Surely the reason why the King was sacrificed rather than any one else was because there was something about him which there was not about any one else, because no meaner victim would have been equally acceptable to the Gods. On the other hand – to stray for a moment beyond the range of Teutonic and even of Aryan precedent – we read that the ancient Egyptians forestalled the great device of constitutional monarchy, that their priests, in a yearly discourse, dutifully attributed all the good that was done in the land to the King personally and all the evil to his bad counsellors 31. These may seem two exactly opposite ways of treating a King; but the practice of sacrificing the King, and the practice of treating the King as one who can do no wrong, both start from the same principle, the principle that the King is, somehow or other, inherently different from everybody else. Our own Old-English Kings, like all other Teutonic Kings, were anything but absolute rulers; the nation chose them and the nation could depose them; they could do no important act in peace or war without the national assent; yet still the King, as the King, was felt to hold a rank differing in kind from the rank held by the highest of his subjects. Perhaps the distinction mainly consisted in a certain religious sentiment which attached to the person of the King, and did not attach to the person of any inferior chief. In heathen times, the Kings traced up their descent to the Gods whom the nation worshipped; in Christian times, they were distinguished from lesser rulers by being admitted to their office with ecclesiastical ceremonies; the chosen of the people became also the Anointed of the Lord. The distinction between Kings and rulers of any other kind is strictly immemorial; it is as old as anything that we know of the political institutions of our race. The distinction is clearly marked in the description which I read to you from Tacitus. He distinguishes in a marked way Reges and Duces , Kings and Leaders; Kings whose claim to rule rested on their birth, and leaders whose claim to rule rested on their personal merit. But from the same writer we learn that, though the distinction was so early established and so well understood, it still was not universal among all the branches of the Teutonic race. Of the German nations described by Tacitus, some, he expressly tells us, were governed by Kings, while others were not 32. That is to say, each tribe or district had its own chief, its magistrate in peace and its leader in war, but the whole nation was not united under any one chief who had any claim to the special and mysterious privileges of kingship. That is to say, though we hear of kingship as far back as our accounts will carry us, yet kingship was not the oldest form of government among the Teutonic tribes. The King and his Kingdom came into being by the union of several distinct tribes or districts, which already existed under distinct leaders of their own, and in our own early history we can mark with great clearness the date and circumstances of the introduction of kingship. We should be well pleased to know what were the exact Teutonic words which Tacitus expressed by the Latin equivalents Rex and Dux . As for the latter at least, we can make a fair guess. The Teutonic chief who was not a King bore the title of Ealdorman in peace and of Heretoga in war. The former title needs no explanation. It still lives on among us, though with somewhat less than its ancient dignity. The other title of Heretoga , army-leader, exactly answering to the Latin Dux , has dropped out of our own language, but it survives in High-German under the form of Herzog , which is familiarly and correctly translated by Duke 33. The Duces of Tacitus, there can be no doubt, were Ealdormen or Heretogan . It is less clear what the title was which he intended by Rex . Our word Cyning, King , is common to all the existing Teutonic tongues, and we find it as far back as we can trace the English language 34. But it is not the only, nor seemingly the oldest, word to express the idea. In the oldest monument of Teutonic speech, the Gothic translation of the Scriptures, the word King , in any of its forms, is not found. The word there used is Thiudans 35. And there is a third word Drihten , which in English is most commonly used in a religious sense 36. I would ask you to bear with me while I plunge for a moment into some obsolete Teutonic etymologies, as I think that the analogies of these three words are not a little interesting. All three names come from, or are closely connected with, words meaning the race or people. One of those words, Cyn or Kin , we still keep in modern English with no change of sound and with very little change of meaning. Now, the word Cyning , in its shortened form King , either comes straight from the substantive Cyn , or else from a closely connected adjective Cyne , noble, just like the Latin generosus from Genus, which, let me add, is the same word as our English Cyn . Let no one delude you into thinking that King has anything to do with the canning or cunning man. The man who first said that it had had simply not learned his Old-English grammar 37. It has to do with Cyn and Cyne , and it may be taken as “the noble one,” or, as ing is the Teutonic patronymic, any one that chooses may thus form Cyning from Cyn , and make the King, not the father of his people, but their offspring 38. Now the other two names, Thiudans or Theoden , and Drihten , have dropped out of our language, and so have the two words with which they are connected, just as Cyning is connected with Cyn . Thiduans or Theoden comes from Thiuda or Theod , also meaning people , a word which you will recognize in many of the old Teutonic names, Theodric , Theodberht , Theodbald , and the like. So Drihten either comes straight from Driht , a family or company, or else, just like Cyn and Cyne , from an adjective driht meaning noble or lordly. All these three names expressing kingship have thus to do with words meaning the race or people. They imply the chief of a people, something more than the chief of a mere tribe or district. Now in our Old-English Chronicles, when they tell how the first English Conquerors, Hengest and Horsa, settled in Kent, they do not call them Cyningas but Heretogan , Leaders or Dukes. It is not till after some victories over the Britons that we hear that Hengest took the rice or kingdom, and that his son Æsc is called King . So in Wessex, the first conquerors Cerdic and Cynric are called Ealdormen when they land; but, when they have established a settled dominion at the expense of the Welsh, we read that they too took the rice , and the leaders of the West-Saxons are henceforth spoken of as Kings 39. It is plain then that the first leaders of the English settlements in Britain, when they came over, bore only the lowlier title of Heretoga or Ealdorman ; it was only when they had fought battles and found themselves at the head of a powerful and victorious settlement on the conquered soil that they were thought worthy of the higher title of Kings. And we may further believe that, with all their exploits they would not have been thought worthy of it, if they had not been held to come of the blood of the Gods, of the divine stock of Woden.