Kipling’s Norman and Saxon
Wednesday, January 31st, 2007This poem by Kipling describes a dying Norman (i.e. the Germanic-blooded but French-speaking tribe that conquered England in 1066) instructing his son in how to lead and govern his Saxon charges, the older inhabitants of England with less refined manners, at least from a French perspective- in other words, the original rednecks. And good advice too, even for Saxons today seeking to lead their own people…
The other day while walking in our neighborhood with my wife and family (we live in a country subdivision with minimum 5-acre lots), I noticed some of my good-old-boy neighbors in full camouflage, coming out of the woods. Now, deer season is over, and they probably weren’t hunting.
But if they were, in their defense, they would merely be following the traditions of our ancestors for a thousand years, who even back in England shamelessly poached the “king’s deer” whenever possible. Even my wife, who is a much stricter rule-follower than myself, when I explained that they technically shouldn’t be hunting right now (assuming on the off chance that’s what they were doing), was offended at the notion that you can’t hunt “on your own land” unless it’s hunting season. Now, I’m not saying I oppose hunting regulation, as I support legitimate conservation efforts to preserve the game population for future generations, but I think her reaction illustrates our people’s tendency to appeal to the higher law of right and fairness instead of the technical letters of statutes- the latter being a purely French concoction alien to English freemen and their ancient common law.
While I am not a particularly eager outdoorsman myself (I make myself go fishing twice a year because I think it’s good for a man to go kill animals for food every now and then- and if I ever have a son, I’ll certainly want him to have the experience of shedding an animal’s blood, as it is an education on the realities of life), I am the exception among our people. I find it amusing that all across the South, the ultimate career goal of many a smart lawyer or doctor is to earn enough money to buy a piece of land in the middle of nowhere where they can go and sit in a tree, doused with raccoon or “doe in heat” urine, waiting to kill the big one.
The redneck has not been bred out of us yet, and good thing too.
Norman and Saxon
A.D. 1100
“My son,” said the Norman Baron, “I am dying, and you will
be heir
To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for
share
When he conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little
handful it is.
But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:–
“The Saxon is not like us Normans. His manners are not so polite.
But he never means anything serious till he talks about justice
right.
When he stands like an ox in the furrow–with his sullen set eyes
on your own,
And grumbles, ‘This isn’t fair dealing,’ my son, leave the Saxon
alone.
“You can horsewhip your Gascony archers, or torture your
Picardy spears;
But don’t try that game on the Saxon; you’ll have the whole
brood round your ears.
From the richest old Thane in the county to the poorest chained
serf in the field,
They’ll be at you and on you like hornets, and, if you are wise,
you will yield.
“But first you must master their language, their dialect, proverbs
and songs.
Don’t trust any clerk to interpret when they come with the tale
of their own wrongs.
Let them know that you know what they are saying; let them feel
that you know what to say.
Yes, even when you want to go hunting, hear ‘em out if it takes
you all day.
They’ll drink every hour of the daylight and poach every hour
of the dark.
It’s the sport not the rabbits they’re after (we’ve plenty of game
in the park).
Don’t hang them or cut off their fingers. That’s wasteful as well
as unkind,
For a hard-bitten, South-country poacher makes the best man-
at-arms you can find.
“Appear with your wife and the children at their weddings and
funerals and feasts.
Be polite but not friendly to Bishops; be good to all poor parish
priests.
Say ‘we,’ ‘us’ and ‘ours’ when you’re talking, instead of ‘you
fellows’ and ‘I.’
Don’t ride over seeds; keep your temper; and never you tell ‘em
a lie!”
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