“Nobilissimus juvenis; rex strenuissimus; vir religiosus.”
Hoveden.
The attention of the student is so universally directed in
modern days to the attainment of Classic Literature, and
to the knowledge of that period of History which has
been stamped at once as the age of the purest taste and of
the highest philosophy, that the youth of our country are
too generally in entire ignorance of the early history of
their own race; and with few, with very few, exceptions
know no more than the names of those who in the
“dark ages,” as they are erroneously termed, exercised
an important influence over the well-being of England.
All error is prolific in its offspring—the stigma of
darkness which has been passed upon the period that
elapsed between the fourth and the tenth centuries has
caused them if not actually to be shunned, at least to be
lightly esteemed in the course of study; and the useful
lessons to be acquired from the conduct of men in all but
a state of nature, have been neglected for the sake of
those to be deduced from society as it has conventionally
existed in a highly civilized state. It is not here intended
to be denied but that much may be learned by this
method of procedure; yet is it unhesitatingly advanced
as a necessary axiom in polity, that the state of nature
should be first regarded, and the different improvements
upon, or at least alterations from, that state afterwards
compared, for the purpose of introducing a still higher
degree of amelioration. In no condition can the natural
propensities of man be learned so readily as in a natural
condition; and the more civilization has increased in any
country, so much the more difficult will it be to lay down
a Code of Laws which shall have the effect of correcting
the natural evils and vicious propensities of the natives
of the clime.
It might, perhaps, at first sight, appear that these
remarks are not peculiarly applicable to the subject of
the present Essay; but this is by no means the case.
The object of History is to make the experience of past
ages subservient to the use of the present; and the object
of Education to enable the existing generation to take
advantage of the experience so afforded. But if that
portion of History most rich in traits of nature, most
prolific in change, most useful in developing the workings
of unsophisticated mind, be neglected, it were absurd to
imagine that the present age could derive the benefit such
period affords from other sources, which are undeniably
less adequate to bestow it.
Circumscribed, however, as a brief composition of such
a nature as the present must necessarily be, it is not
perhaps advisable to enlarge upon a point of opinion that
might admit of controversy. It may possibly be deemed
sufficient to bear out, at least partially, the position laid
down, to direct attention to the state of England at the
period of its History preceding the accession of Offa to the
crown of Mercia, and then trace briefly his mingled career
of glory and of crime.
The question is not perhaps at the present day of
easy solution, whether the Jutes[1] under Hengist and
Horsa came to Britain by invitation from the natives, or
whether their settlement in this country arose from
accidental circumstances: considering the numerical insignificance
of the expedition the latter is most probable.
Certain, however, it is, that their establishment in Kent
and the Isle of Wight led to subsequent descents upon
the coast both by Saxons and Angles, the former of
whom established themselves between A. D. 449 and
527 in the south and south east of the country; while the
latter, between A. D. 547 and 586, became located in the
northern and midland districts. It was about the last-named
date that Mercia was formed into an independent
state by Crida, comprising in its full extent what are
now the counties of Chester, Derby, Nottingham, and
Lincoln (North Mercians), Leicester (Middle Angles),
Rutland, Northampton, Huntingdon, Beds, Hertford,
Bucks, Oxon, Gloucester, Warwick, Worcester, Hereford,
Salop, and Stafford (South Mercians). To these extensive
domains,[2]—extensive, that is, compared with the
other kingdoms of the Saxon Octarchy,[3]—Offa, the subject
of the present Essay, succeeded in A. D. 755, upon the
nomination of the last king, Ethelbald, who perished at
Seggeswold in support of his throne against the powerful
rebel Bernred.[4]
No sooner had Offa been established, not less by the
hearts of his subjects than by the acts of his power or the
will of his predecessor, upon the throne of Mercia, than
he applied himself to the duties of a barbaric sovereign,
confirming his dominions and extending the limits of his
territory. Brave and ambitious, endowed with personal
vigour and mental abilities unequalled by any of his age
and country, he gradually directed his powers against
the neighbouring sovereigns. Circumstanced as the
Saxon kingdoms in Britain were, nothing could be more
easy than to find a pretext for offence; and whether we
suppose, with the Monk of St. Alban’s, that Offa was
instigated in his ambitious views by his wife Cynedritha,
or believe that he simply acted on the defensive against
the confederate monarchs of Deira, East-Anglia, Kent,
Sussex, and Wessex, certain it is that his wars with
these opponents terminated to his glory and their disgrace.
At Feldhard in East-Anglia, the superiority of
Offa’s forces was first made manifest. Within two years
after this engagement he won the spolia opima in the
decisive conflict at Otteford, near Sevenoaks, with the
troops of Kent. And not long subsequently, he routed
the combined forces of his enemies under the command of
Cynewulf—himself a celebrated warrior—at Bensington,
or Benson, (about twelve miles on the London side of
Oxford,) the Villa Regia of the West Saxons, and dismantled
the fortifications which their monarch had in vain
striven to preserve.
After such specimens of prowess on the part of the
Mercian king, it is no marvel that the kings of Deira and
of Sussex should seek a distant and friendly land as the
scene of their operations against the successful Offa.
They sought refuge and assistance at the court of
Marmodius, king of Wales; and against the Britons
accordingly Offa next directed his arms. Aided by their
native fastnesses these new opponents afforded protracted
resistance on the western boundary of his kingdom, and
with them and their Saxon allies he had many and severe
engagements. Owing to the craft of Marmodius he met
with some reverses in his first campaign, and on one
occasion narrowly escaped with his life. Eventually,
however, his good genius prevailed. He annexed to
Mercia the east of Wales as far as the Wye, planted the
subject territory with Anglo-Saxons, and built the wall
known by the name of Offa’s Dyke,[5] about one hundred
miles in extent, from the æstuary of the Dee to the mouth
of the first-mentioned river.
In policy as in arms Offa proved himself equally
successful. When he had been about ten years on the
throne he made an attempt to deprive Iambertus, or
Lambert, Archbishop of Canterbury, of his province, and,
“contrary to the customs of antiquity,” to erect Lichfield
into an Archiepiscopate. Although the clergy and natives
of Kent were naturally opposed to an innovation which
so materially affected their ecclesiastical importance, the
king of Mercia succeeded in obtaining from Pope Adrian
the First permission to prosecute his design; and the
bishops of Worcester, Leicester, Chester, and Hereford,
and of the East-Angles Helmham with Norfolk, and
Domuck, or Donwich, with Suffolk, were, some years
later, subjected to the Bishop of Lichfield: London, however,
Rochester, Winchester, and Sherbourn remained in
the diminished province of Canterbury.[6]
A correspondence, still extant, which took place
between Offa and the emperor[7] Charlemagne, serves to
throw some light on the complexion of the times; and the
fact of its existence may be deemed a valuable compliment
to the talents, the power, and the reputation of the
Anglo-Saxon. How their acquaintance commenced is
uncertain: but the fact of Alcuin, an English clergyman,
having been preceptor to the emperor is sufficient to
account for his being favorably inclined to the nation that
gave his tutor birth.[8]
The friendship of monarchs, however, from its intimate
connexion with political expediency, is necessarily unstable:
nor was that of Offa and Charlemagne without
interruption. The Frank desired the hand of a daughter
of Offa for his natural son Charles; but this the Mercian
sovereign refused unless Bertha, the daughter of the
emperor of the west, were bestowed upon Egfrid his
own son and heir. The demand excited the anger of
Charlemagne; and, in consequence, disregarding the wise
remonstrances of his council, he closed the ports of Gaul
against the merchants of Anglo-Saxon Britain.[9] In consequence
of this hasty and decisive step, Offa was apprehensive
of invasion from his indignant foe, and this
anticipation of evil was increased, by the knowledge that
he afforded his powerful protection to some Anglo-Saxon
malcontents. Lambert, the Saxon Primate, was suspected
of being privy to the emperor’s designs, and this
afforded a pretext (if indeed it were not really the reason)
for removing the Archiepiscopate from Canterbury to
Lichfield. After some lapse of time, however, concord
was restored between the regal friends, through the
mediation of Alcuin and the abbot Gervald[10]. The former
of these (one of the most interesting and learned
characters of that age) had not escaped the imputation
of treasonable designs—an imputation which he repels
with great simplicity and apparent honesty in the words
addressed to a friend, “Vere Offæ regi nec genti
Anglorum unquam infidelis fui!” His embassy from
the court of his adopted to that of his natural sovereign
was accompanied by gifts which were thus symbolically
interpreted;
“A Carlo dona data sunt Offæ, mucro, zona;
Cingat ut imbelles clemens, feriatque rebelles.
Pallia donantur velut his secreta tegantur.
Tiro mucrone sed et utens munere zonæ,
Indomitos punit, pronos sibi nectit et unit,
Palliat arcana,—ne signent pallia vana.”
A brief review of the Anglo-Saxon system of government
may, perhaps, be here not inapplicably inserted, in
order to convey some definite idea of Offa’s position as
the sovereign of Mercia, and enable the reader to trace
more satisfactorily the improvements which he was the
means of introducing into Britain.
The prescriptive constitution of the Anglo-Saxons was
decidedly of a liberal form, and to it may be traced the
majority of our own liberal institutions; but one most
important difference exists between the ancient and
modern constitution of Britain, in the fact of the sovereignty
of the Saxon kingdoms not being positively
hereditary. “A son who inherited his father’s virtues
and talents,” observes the author of a popular History of
Modern Europe, “was sure to succeed his sway; but if
he happened to be weak or profligate, or was a minor,
the next in blood, or the person of the greatest eminence
in the state, generally procured an elevation to the
throne.”[11]
The Anglo-Saxon annals afford an excellent commentary
upon this system of a partially elective monarchy.
Scenes of strife and bloodshed, family dissensions, party
feuds, assassination, and even fratricide were not unfrequent
occurrences amid this optional “setting up and
pulling down of kings;” and the liberality and seeming
justice of the system, that appear so seductive on a first
view of the THEORY, fade before the exercise of tyranny,
the right of might, and the injustice of usurpation, that
evidence themselves as its prolific offspring when reduced
to practice.
To aid the king and sanction measures of public
administration, as well as give consent to the enactment
of laws, there existed among the Saxons an Assembly or
Parliament, termed a Wittena-Gemot, consisting of the
nobles or thanes, the dignified clergy, and freemen possessing
a given portion of land.[12] There was also a
county court, termed Shire-Gemot, where all the freeholders
assembled twice in each year to receive appeals
from the inferior courts (probably the petty courts
held by each landholder for conducting the affairs of his
own estate); and over this assembly the eaorlderman
(earl) and the bishop presided, although they do not
appear to have had farther authority allotted to them
than was sufficient to keep order among the freeholders,
and to offer their advice in causes of difficulty.
To obtain nobility among the Saxons required one of
three qualifications, birth, valour, or wisdom. The parents
who had distinguished themselves by either of the latter
means transmitted their honors to their children. They
who were born of obscure or moderate parentage (provided
they were free) had, however, the path of distinction
open to them to pursue at will. They who gained their
nobility by valour were termed adelingi; they who
gained it by wisdom in peace (because generally the fruit
of experience) were termed aldermanni (senators or elder
men); and they who gained it by a mixed valour and
wisdom in war, being illustrious for success rather than
simple courage, were termed heretochii.
Beneath the nobles there were two distinct classes, each
capable of a subdivision; viz., the freemen, and the slaves
or villains. The freeborn (frilingi) were either custodes
pagani, country gentlemen, or simply pagani, ceorles or
yeomen; while the villains were distinguished as lazzi,
bondmen, or free lazzi, freedmen or manumitted slaves.
Of these all except the two last had a share in the
representation of their respective states, and free access
to, if not the right of voting at, the Micklemote or
Wittena-Gemot when assembled.
Whether the priests formed originally a part of the
Witan is difficult to determine, but unquestionably they
did so after Christianity was received among the Saxons;
for within six years after Augustin’s arrival (A. D. 597)
Ethelbert, king of Kent, having summoned a council
“tam Cleri, quam Populi,” distinguished himself as the
promulgator of the earliest written laws of the Anglo-Saxons
which are now extant. Of the lawgivers next
following him, Hlothære and Eadric, as well as Whitræd,
little beyond their names is known; but about a century
after Ethelbert’s time, Ina promulgated a fresh and more
extensive Code of Laws, “suasu et instituto Episcoporum,
omnium Senatorum et natu majorum sapientium populi;
in magnâ servorum Dei frequentiâ.” After him Offa
promulgated laws throughout his dominions, but these are
not now separately extant: and about a century later
Alfred the Great, “consultu sapientium,” retained and
confirmed all the righteous laws of Ethelbert, Ina, and
Offa, while he reformed or rescinded those enactments
which circumstances had rendered less efficient or less
advisable to be retained.
“The laws of Offa,” remarks Sir Francis Palgrave,[13]
“have not been retained in their original form, and we
cannot distinguish them in the capitulary of the king of
Wessex. But the laws of Ina are annexed to the statute
of Alfred, and perhaps we only possess them in his
edition. There was no incorporate union of the Saxon
kingdoms, and it is, therefore, probable that there were
two promulgations of Alfred’s laws, one statute for the
West-Saxons, and to which the laws of Ina were appended,
and another for Mercia, since lost, to which the
laws of Offa were, in like manner, annexed.”
It is of course with diffidence that any opinion is set
forth which seems to run counter to so eminent an
authority as Palgrave; but there does appear a plausible
reason (if not a sufficient one) for the laws of Offa not
being found under a separate title; viz., that the laws
termed those of Alfred, independent of Ina and Ethelbert,
were those of Offa! This idea is corroborated by the
circumstance, that Alfred did not assume to himself so
much credit as a Lawmaker as a collector and improver
of laws; for in the preamble to his Code, he says that he
had selected some of its laws, with the approbation and
advice of his council, from those of Offa and others!
The entire improvements which Offa introduced into
the legislation of his kingdom and subjected territories
are, at the present day, too difficult of discovery to be
clearly elucidated, unless the foregoing hypothesis be
adopted: but there may be excepted from this difficulty
the laws passed at the legatine council in his reign, held
at Calchythe, A. D. 785, when Egfrid his son was associated
with him in the government.[14]
Among these were the important enactments that no
persons of illegitimate birth should ascend the throne, or
inherit private property, and that kings should be “a
sacerdotibus et senioribus populi eligantur;” that the
Nicene Creed should be adopted; that bishops should
visit their dioceses once a year; that tithes were to be
paid, but that no tributes to the church were to be larger
than was provided by the Roman law; that the rich and
powerful should judge righteous judgment; with other
provisions of minor importance.
Brief as is this notice of the Anglo-Saxon government,
it is sufficient to show, that it was indebted to Offa for
alterations and improvements, which, from the security
and length of his reign, and their subsequent adoption
by the great Alfred, may be fairly conceived to have been
dictated by judgment, and enforced by a prudent exercise
of power.
The first irruption of the Danes into Britain is said
to have taken place during Offa’s reign, and to have been
by him, for a time at least, successfully repressed.[15] But
there is one event to which no allusion has yet been
made, which has had greater effect in inducing posterity
to form a judgment on his character than even the repulse
of the early attacks of the Vikingr. An event that, if
unrecorded, would have left him an almost stainless glory,
but which, when fairly stated, leaves the painful impression
that the blot of homicide darkens his otherwise fair
escutcheon.
After Brithric, king of Wessex, and Æthelred of
Deira had, with the hands of his daughters Eadburga and
Ælfleda, received their kingdoms once again in subjection
to themselves, Albert, or Ethelbert, king of the East-Angles,
came with a lordly train to sue for the hand of
Alfreda, the remaining daughter.[16] Brave, yet pious;
elegant, yet modest; exalted in station, yet humble in
soul; the amiable and interesting Ethelbert was publicly
welcomed to the court of Offa. The festal hall was
decked for his reception, the spousal banquet spread, the
goblet graced the board. The hospitable meal in seeming
friendly confidence passed over; the prince retired to his
sumptuous couch to rest; and the morrow brought the
accession of a kingdom’s wealth to Mercia clogged by the
weight of treacherous and inhospitable murder![17]
It has been the effort of several historians to cast the
blame of this foul transaction upon Offa’s queen Cynedritha;
but as all concur in stating the welcome given to
the youthful monarch, and the subsequent and immediate
assumption of dominion over his realms by his intended
father-in-law, no inference can be drawn but that Offa
was himself a particeps criminis: and when viewed
even in the most lenient possible light an accessory after
the fact.
Brief was the monarch’s career posterior to this inhuman
deed. Ere two years had passed he sank overwhelmed
with remorse and sorrow into the cold embraces
of the tomb. Within five months his promising successor,
Egfrid, followed him to the grave—his abandoned queen
soon closed her vicious career—the betrothed bride of the
murdered Ethelbert wasted her widowed beauty in the
monasterial walls of Croyland—Eadburga, the profligate
and homicidal widow of Brithric perished miserably—and
the race of Offa no more existed in the land![18]
The mind of the philosopher, the historian, and the poet,
must alike reflect with pain, that there was one gigantic
genius who might lay claim to the laurels of all, and
could yet allow his opinions to be so biassed by prejudice
as to declare the records of the times to which we have
been alluding to be worthless as a history of the contests
of kites and crows![19] The intellect that controlled the
infancy of a mighty nation was spurned, because it did
not chance to be in existence when that nation had
advanced to maturity—but it surely needs no new observation
to pronounce that the germs of originality will
develop themselves at all times and under all circumstances.
Events may doubtless occur to evolve them
with a peculiar force, and education and early habit may
deck them with characteristic colouring; but where the
spirit of originality—the essence of causation—exists, it
will find a vent for its exhibition, whether it rise in the
breast of an Offa amid an age of comparative barbarism,
or burst from the mind of a Napoléon, to stalk with the
grandeur of a son of Anak superior to a host of petty
minds, narrowed by the extreme polish of that very civilization
upon which they chiefly pride themselves.
Had not the genius of Offa led the way by subjecting
so large a portion of England to his control, it is scarcely
probable that Egbert would have succeeded so early as
within a few years from his decease in uniting the divided
kingdoms under his government. Nor should it be forgotten
that the future monarch of all England took his
early lessons in the rude chivalry of the times at the court
of Offa, by whom he was protected from the persecution of
Brithric:[20] thence passing in safety by the connivance of
his friend to the dominions of Charlemagne, he was entertained
by that illustrious emperor till the death of
Brithric left the kingdom of Wessex open to his claims.
And on his return to his native land, he showed plainly
that the ambitious designs of his early protector yet lived
in his bosom, and but a transient period intervened ere
the divided House of the Octarchy owned him as their
common Lord.
To Offa then, as the preserver, and to a certain extent
the instructor, of the first sole monarch of England, the
present age must look back with gratitude as the founder
of the limited monarchy of the land; but as he is said by
one of his historians[21] to have been a man in whom virtue
and vice were so mingled, as to render it difficult to say
whether of the twain were predominant—so in the legacy
of spiritual slavery which he bequeathed to his kingdom,
it is a question whether the advantages arising from unity
in political government were not more than counterbalanced.
Not only did Offa, by his application to the Pope for
permission to transfer the province of Canterbury to
Lichfield, recognize the principle of interference in the
ecclesiastical government of this country on the part of
the bishop of Rome, but he is expressly stated to have
made his whole realm tributary to that See. And it is
certain that in paying Romescot[22] he followed the example
of Ina, who in the year 697 “was the first that
caused the monie called Peter Pence to be paid unto the
bishop of Rome, which was for everie houshold within his
dominion a penie.”
It is scarcely less disgusting than instructive to trace
throughout the middle ages the growing foliage of superstition,
that cast its dim and lengthening shadow over the
lovely temple of religion. And when it was the received
creed of the time, that donations to the church, of which
the bishop of Rome was falsely regarded as the head,
were sufficient to compensate for the most heinous crimes,
it cannot be surprising that the regal homicide should pay
his court to the prevailing idol, or that the wide domains
of the wealthy and noble sensualist should in his dying
hour (no longer, then, of service to pander to his appetites,)
be transferred to the service of that all-powerful
agency which professed itself alike enabled to quench the
fires of purgatory and unbar the portals of the mansions of
eternal bliss! Offa, the proud and conquering king,
stripped of its vested rights the ancient province of Canterbury
to aggrandize with spiritual supremacy his own
domains[23]—Offa, the daring and ambitious prince, yielded
to the evil suggestions of tempting opportunity, and with
a bold and bloody hand seized the broad lands of the
sainted martyr Ethelbert. But Offa the pilgrim, the
penitent, the failing and remorseful monarch, over whom
the feeble halo of an earthly fame had passed and left no
bright and pleasing memory behind—Offa, who felt his
time at hand and looked through the hazy superstition of
a corrupted church upon a vision of purchasable happiness
in heaven “in testimony of repentance for the blood that
he had spilled, bestowed a tenth of all his goods on the
churchmen and on the poor,”[24] built churches, founded
abbeys, and endowed monasteries,[25] to bribe the God whose
laws he had infringed, and bargain at a price for the
salvation which had been freely offered!
But with all his faults and failings, Offa was a great,
an illustrious character! The stain, the indelible stain of
the pure and high-minded Ethelbert’s blood must remain
to deface his memory; yet cannot it annihilate the brilliant
talents that the Mercian king displayed in war—the
nobleness and independence of spirit that could not,
for an instant, brook an alien interference—the humanity
he showed in bestowing burial on the bodies of his
enemies slain in battle[26]—his personal humility when in
the height of prosperity[27]—his judgment and affection in
associating with himself in the government of the kingdom
his noble and pious son—his admirable policy in
restoring to the conquered kings of Wessex and of Deira
their respective realms, and of binding them to his interests
by giving them his daughters in marriage—his
systematic enforcement of the majesty of the law[28]—his
knowledge of human nature in ordaining regular insignia
of royalty[29]—or his early patriotism and unflinching valour
that wrested from the tyrant rebel the empurpled crown,
and wreathed for the diadem a garland of victory to grace
his own commanding brow![30]
In bold relief he stands amid a crowd of inferior souls—and
if cruelty did occasionally embrue his sword in needless
blood—if a weak yielding to an artful woman’s wiles
does stain his memory—if a blind and superstitious
following of blind and superstitious as well as artful
guides lead posterity to doubt the healthy vigour of his
intellect—let it be remembered, that for his faults he was
mainly indebted to the unlettered days in which he lived—his
virtues and his talents were such as could not fail
to render him illustrious, had he lived in a far more
advanced and highly civilized age than that which he
adorned.
END.
Printed by E. Couchman, 10, Throgmorton Street, London.