Dgieu Sauve La Reine: England’s Other Languages

Author: Robert Henderson
Published on: Jan 19, 1999

England is that rarest of modern states, a virtually unilingual society. Yet the fabric of that society is woven with strong threads of historical multilingualism, and the few non-English traditions that still exist are only more fascinating for their scarcity.

My ny vynnaf cows Sawsnek! Cornish

Before the Normans, the Saxons and the Romans, England was an immense forest peopled by tribal Celts. Successive invaders chopped down the great weald, slaughtering, assimilating, or driving off its inhabitants. Some, a very few, hacked a measure of survival from unattractive acreage, mostly outside modern England; Wales is the largest example. But the Celts also managed to hang on to Cornwall, England’s rugged western extreme.

There, the Cornish language enjoyed a vigorous life, spawning its own bardic tradition, the customary Celtic literary medium. Missionaries alphabetised Cornish, and an impressive manuscript collection developed. But the Industrial Revolution eventually killed Cornish, as it did so many other tongues. The last native speakers vanished in the 19th century. Fortunately, the post-WWI ethnic-identity trend inspired a Cornish revival, though Cornish has yet to retake its traditional community. One reason is the emergence of competing factions, each pushing a different standardisation model. Still, the Cornish revival cannot be dismissed as a failure. The clock is still ticking, and stranger things have happened. More importantly, the Cornish experience is invaluable to future revival movements. Finally, whatever its limitations, modern Cornish is a truly international language, studied the world over by the descendants of globe-trotting Cornish miners. In fact, most Cornish Web pages are of Australian origin.

The Cornish revival is currently enjoying renewed interest, both at home and abroad. As a Scot, I wish my fellow Celts the best of luck.

Wæs fiu, Hro›gar, hal! Old English

When Rome withdrew from Britain, circa 400CE, Germanic bands from the Low Countries charged into the vacuum. Among them were Angles (from whom England draws its name), Saxons, Jutes, and Frisians. With the passage of time, an umbrella “Anglo-Saxon” culture emerged. Its language, Old English, is one of the two parents of Modern English.

Given its brief lifespan, Old English fostered an impressive body of literature. Anglo-Saxons read the Bible in their own tongue and penned Beowulf, an epic poem. After 800 years of silence, England is again hearing the earthy cadences of Old English. Enthusiasts gather in Old English circles to discuss the concerns of our day in King Alfred’s tongue. Spoken Old Englishis an intriguing, unsettling experience. Speakers often become momentarily comprehensible, then lapse back into a alien tongue resembling Dutch. “OE” also encapsulates fascinating cultural artifacts. My favourite: “gheest,” visitor, is the ancestor of both “ghost” and “guest.” What delightful insight into a culture long since disappeared.

Because OE uses the Icelandic character set, it creates the usual headaches for unilingual dinosaurware. For example, in order to read the title of this section correctly you must download or copy this article onto an Icelandic-compatible text editor or word processor. A few simple modifications made my Mac OE-proficient. Most IBM clones are Icelandic-compatible, but browsers and other programmes may require updating.

Tchi tèrre a, dgèrre a: Jèrriais and Dgernesiais

On 14 October, 1066, the Saxon King Harold fell on the battlefield, and his language followed him to the grave. The victors, Normans from what is now northwestern France, waged a brutal hearts-and-minds campaign against the indigenous population. The memory of their apartheid system, under which Saxons were reckoned subhuman, remains fresh and bitter in England’s collective conscience 900 years later.

Ensuing centuries of resentful cohabitation eventually resulted in both languages being swallowed up in the unruly pidgin we call Modern English. Today, only the Channel Islands remain as the lone outpost of old Norman. Jèrriais and Dgernesiais, traditional Channel Islands hearth tongues, bear a strong resemblance to the original. While their obvious similarity to modern French leads some to dismiss them as corruptions of that language, in fact, all three traditions share equal prestige as independent Norman descendants.

For six centuries Jèrriais and Dgernesiais have withstood competition from Modern English, while French electronic media daily penetrate the insularity that made this possible. Today, the Norman-based Channel Island tongues are in danger of disappearing. But they’re putting up a spirited fight; Jèrriaisand Dgernesiais both enjoy a literary tradition, Web presence and a militant preservation and revival movement. They may well beat the odds.

Modern English itself has given the British Isles a wealth of rich local traditions, while other fascinating traditions lie beyond England’s borders. Among them are three distinct dialects of Gaelic and Scots, languages of my own people. But these treasures must await another day, when column space affords the attention they deserve.