[1] The word in the original is exterminatis,
but of
course exterminare
then bore its etymological sense of
expatriation or expulsion,
if not merely of confiscation,
while it certainly did
not imply the idea of slaughter,
connoted by the modern
word.
The English Chronicle, our third authority, was first compiled at the court of AElfred, four and a-half centuries after the Conquest; and so its value as original testimony is very slight. Its earlier portions are mainly condensed from Baeda; but it contains a few fragments of traditional information from some other unknown sources. These fragments, however, refer chiefly to Kent, Sussex, and the older parts of Wessex, where we have reason to believe that the Teutonic colonisation was exceptionally thorough; and they tell us nothing about Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, and East Anglia, where we find at the present day so large a proportion of the population possessing an unmistakably Celtic physique. The Chronicle undoubtedly describes the conflict in the south as sharp and bloody; and in spite of the mythical character of the names and events, it is probable that in this respect it rightly preserves the popular memory of the conquest, and its general nature. In Kent, “the Welsh fled the English like fire;” and Hengest and AEsc, in a single battle, slew 4,000 men. In Sussex, AElle and Cissa killed or drove out the natives in the western rapes on their first landing, and afterwards massacred every Briton at Anderida. In Wessex, in the first struggle, “Cerdic and Cynric offslew a British king whose name was Natanleod, and 5,000 men with him.” And so the dismal annals of rapine and slaughter run on from year to year, with simple, unquestioning conciseness, showing us, at least, the manner in which the later English believed their forefathers had acquired the land. Moreover, these frightful details accord well enough with the vague generalities of Gildas, from which, however, they may very possibly have been manufactured. Yet even the Chronicle nowhere speaks of absolute extermination: that idea has been wholly read into its words, not directly inferred from them. A great deal has been made of the massacre at Pevensey; but we hear nothing of similar massacres at the great Roman cities—at London, at York, at Verulam, at Bath, at Cirencester, which would surely have attracted more attention than a small outlying fortress like Anderida. Even the Teutonic champions themselves admit that some, at least, of the Celts were incorporated into the English community. “The women,” says Mr. Freeman, “would, doubtless, be largely spared;” while as to the men, he observes, “we may be sure that death, emigration, or personal slavery were the only alternatives which the vanquished found at the hands of our fathers.” But there is a vast gulf, from the ethnological point of view, between exterminating a nation and enslaving it.[2]
[2] In this and a few other cases, modern authorities
are
quoted merely to show
that the essential facts of a large
Welsh survival are really
admitted even by those who most
strongly argue in favour
of the general Teutonic origin of
Englishmen.