How did the Northwest Germanic language split into North and West
Germanic languages? How did these language families remain mutually
intelligible? What were the differences between them? What foreign
cultures influenced the language and culture of the Germanic folk? These
are the sorts of answers I sought in this Jive Talk with the talented
young philologist, Konrad Rosenberg.
The English ethnic group traces its origins to 5th-century Germanic migrants who integrated with native Britons. Modern genetic studies confirm English people, first documented by Bede in 731 AD, are today 25-47% Anglo-Saxon.
England is named after the English ethnic group, not the other way around. An Englishman may move abroad and remain an Englishman, and a foreigner who moves to England does not thereby become English. English culture is defined by whatever ethnically English people do. English ethnicity is determined by heritage. If you descend from the medieval English people and were enculturated among their descendants in England, then you are ethnically and culturally English.
England was first united under one crown in 927 AD, which is 1,098 years ago. So England as a nation-state is over 1,000 years old, but England – that is, the land of the English – is much older.
The English were first defined as a native ethnic group in Britain by Bede in c. 731 AD. However, their ancestors, the Angles on the continent, are first described by the Roman historian Tacitus, who called them the 'Anglii' in 98 AD (and we cannot imagine that they did not exist before the Romans learned about them).
Not only do we have these written sources, making us one of the most historically well-attested, extant ethnic groups on Earth today, but we also have scientific evidence confirming the recordings of our origins first presented by the Venerable Bede and in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.
A combination of new genetic evidence, old archaeological evidence and a novel approach to the analysis of skull morphology (craniometry) have revealed what really happened in this obscure period of history, traditionally called the Dark Ages, to which we trace our ethnogenesis.
In the fifth century AD, large numbers of Germanic peoples from the continent migrated, in a seemingly coordinated way, to Britain. The initial impact on the Eastern part of the country has been estimated to indicate a population displacement of up to 75% according to a study of skulls (Plomp KA, et al, 2021) or a displacement of up to 80% according to genetic evidence (Gretzinger J, et al, 2022). There followed a period of integration as the English moved further West, causing formerly Brythonnic speaking natives either to adopt the Germanic language and culture of the English, or to flee to the Western fringes of the island where they became the Cornish and Welsh peoples. This integration with the natives resulted in a modern English population that was estimated to be 40% of Germanic origin and 60% Brythonic in a 2016 study (Schiffels S, et al, 2016). A larger and more conclusivestudy of ancient English DNA from 2022estimates that modern English people range from 25-47% Anglo-Saxon (CNE), 11-57% Iron-age Briton (WBI), and 14-43% French. The ethnic English must therefore be modelled with three Iron-Age source populations, not just two, due to continuous immigration from France during the Middle Ages (Gretzinger J, et al, 2022). The variations in ancestral proportions reflect regional diversity within the English ethnic group, with Brythonic ancestry remaining higher in the West and Germanic ancestry being higher in Eastern and Central regions.
However, it must be understood that while the English are about 40% like the fifth century Germanic migrants (averaged across all regions, ignoring modern population density), they have a far greater genetic affinity to the English of the Middle and Late Anglo-Saxon periods, who had already assimilated the native Britons. The modern English genetic group existed in the Middle Anglo-Saxon era and by the time the term “Anglo-Saxon” was in use, the people who it referred to were almost entirely the same as modern ethnically English people.
The archaeological record includes one man of entirely native “Celtic” British ancestry (grave 37, Updown Eastry, Gretzinger et al 2022) interred along with weapons in a high-status pagan Germanic barrow – showing that the natives not only became English but were able to achieve high status within the Germanic English culture.
Another ancient pagan grave, including a cow sacrifice, was found at Oakington near Cambridge (grave 80, Gretzinger et al 2022) among a total of 124 inhumations. It contained a woman whose genetic ancestry has been determined to be around 60% native British and 40% Germanic invader – and this mix is much the same as that of the average Englishman today, even though the term 'English' did not yet exist when she was buried (Gretzinger et al 2022).
The terms 'English' and 'Anglo-Saxon' were synonyms. While 'English' was first recorded as an ethnonym by Bede around 731 AD, the term 'Anglo-Saxon' came a bit later when King Alfred the Great, formerly just King of the West Saxons, captured the Mercian-Anglian territory of London in 886 AD, and was thenceforth known as 'Rex AngulSaxonum'. Both terms continued to be used for the next two centuries. A 10th-century charter of King Eadwig describes him as “King of the Anglosu” – an abbreviation of 'Anglo-Saxonum' – and King Cnut sometimes used the title "King of the Anglo-Saxons" as recently as the 11th century.
After the Normans invaded in the 11th century, they referred to the natives as 'Engleis' and in so doing recognised their distinct ethnic identity. The Normans brought an end to the so-called Anglo-Saxon era, but not to Englishness. Neighbours on the continent referred to the English then, and still do, with names derived from Angle such as “Anglais” while Celtic speaking British neighbours refer to the English as “Sassenach” - a word derived from Saxon.
Nor were Anglo-Saxon origins of the English forgotten at home. Henry of Huntingdon’s Historia Anglorum, published around 1129, relied on Anglo-Saxon texts to tell a history of England. Henry there coined the expression Anglia plena jocis, “England full of jokes”, a phrase which may be the origin of the “Merry old England" trope - a nostalgia for an England which has been lost, widely regarded as a central component of English culture, at least since the Industrial Revolution.
In 1215, a history of Britain was written called Layamon's Brut - which, while including a number of Norman words, deliberately employs archaic Anglo-Saxon vocabulary.
Around 1400, Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales invoked pre-Norman English figures such as the Germanic water god Wade. An anonymously authored poem from the late 14th century titled ‘Athelston’ is set in Anglo-Saxon England and seems to be about Alfred’s grandson, King Aethelstan of the Anglo-Saxons.
The word 'Anglo-Saxon' reappears along with a renewed interest in the early English past in the mid-16th century – motivated by an awakening Protestant national consciousness seeking to define itself in opposition to the Catholic South which did not share their Germanic ancestry. Consequently, Englishness and its Anglo-Saxon origins, became associated with an imagined liberty of pre-Norman governance.
“O what mighty Delusion, do you, who are the powers of England live in! That while you pretend to throw down that Norman yoke, and Babylonish power, and have promised to make the groaning people of England a Free People; yet you still lift up that Norman yoke, and slavish Tyranny, and holds the People as much in bondage, as the Bastard Conquerour himself, and his Councel of War.”
(Winstanley, Gerrard, The True Levellers Standard Advanced: Or, the State of Community Opened, and Presented to the Sons of Men (London: [n.pub.], 1649)
For the last 500 years, this English identity has repeatedly relied on an Anglo-Saxon origin to define itself. But since the two world wars, the word “Germanic” has had negative connotations associated with a national enemy and so some, such as Francis Pryor, have attempted to manufacture an imagined “Celtic” origin for the English instead (In his BBC series Britain AD (2004) and Britain BC (2003), and his books, Pryor proposes a continuity model: major cultural transformations in Britain (like the transition to Anglo-Saxon England) occurred through gradual internal development and cultural exchange).
Certainly, the genetic evidence demonstrates that the English are not entirely descended from Germanic migrants. But the Iron-Age Britons themselves were not entirely descended from Celtic migrants either. The genetic history of the British Isles over the last 4400 years is characterised by long periods of stability interspersed with mixing events with closely related peoples.
This infographic illustrates the last 12,000 years of Britain’s genetic heritage.
The blue in the above diagram represents the Western Hunter-Gatherers like Cheddar man, from whom we still descend in part, but who were largely displaced by the first farmers 6000 years ago, represented by the green. It was this second group who built the megalithic monuments such as Stonehenge. Then, around 4400 years ago, the Bell Beaker folk arrived from the Netherlands and hastened the Bronze Age. This was the largest population displacement in the history of Britain, with some 90% of the Neolithic people being displaced in just a few generations (Olade I, et al 2018). The Beaker folk introduced Western Steppe Herder ancestry from Ukraine/South Russia, represented on the graphic by orange, and which is associated with the Indo-European language family to which both Brythonic (Celtic) and English (Germanic) belong. This was the last genetic component of the three prehistoric peoples who constitute the populations ancestral to the English. However, the Beaker folk were also already mixed with the same farmers and hunters that were previously present in Britain, which is why the orange on the graphic does not show the full 90% displacement.
Migrations of Celts in the Late Bronze Age (Patterson N, et al 2022), Anglo-Saxons in the Dark Ages and French people in the Middle Ages (Gretzinger J, et al, 2022) did not introduce any new prehistoric ancestry to the island. They merely altered the proportions of the three pre-existing ancestral components, as the graphic demonstrates. The nearly four centuries of Roman occupation, surprisingly, left no genetic legacy in the native gene pool (Martiniano R, et al 2016). Therefore the alleged diversity of Roman Britain has no relevance to the identity of English people today. It is also important to note that the Anglo-Saxons were already closely related to the Iron Age-Britons before they mixed together, both being indigenous North-West European peoples descended from the Bell Beaker folk, Neolithic farmers and hunter-gatherers.
While the roots of the English nation, ethnicity and language are tied to the Germanic invaders of the fifth century, the English ethnic group have much deeper ancestral ties to Great Britain. Via the Britons who mixed with the Saxons, the English people descend from the Bronze Age Beaker folk, the first Neolithic farmers and even the hunter gatherers who collected shellfish on these shores over 10,000 years ago when Britain was not yet an island. The English share in the deep Celtic ancestry of their Welsh and Scottish neighbours, but are also distinguished by a unique connection to Germanic Europe.
This article was originally written for The Restorationist in June 2025
This article was originally published here in July 2014.
It’s common knowledge that languages are fluid things which merge into one another and evolve to become new languages. But the way they change isn’t necessarily natural or arbitrary. The changes that occur to languages are often the result of wars, genocides, mass migrations, political meddling and religious taboos. The point of any language is to make oneself understood and this fact has meant that geography maintains the distinct character of different languages so that they remain intelligible to those inhabiting a certain area.
Linguistic purism is usually about preserving a language and protecting it from being corrupted by the introduction of foreign words. But Anglish is a bit different from other types of linguistic purism because it isn’t intended to preserve the English language as it is spoken now, nor as it has ever been spoken. Instead Anglish is a form of English stripped clean of the last 1000 years of non-Germanic influence, while also being brought up to date in terms of modern syntax, grammar and spelling.
So words like love, which is derived from the Old English word lufian, remain as they are in Anglish, while words like horticulture, the first part of which is derived from the Latin hortus meaning garden, have to be altered. The Anglish translation of horticulture is wortcraft, which is a compound of wort, meaning plant, and craft, meaning work.
Anglish speakers are a fringe movement of linguistic purists who want to streamline the English language and rid it of words of un-Anglo-Saxon origin. They don’t speak Old English as it was, because they keep the modern versions of words derived from Old English ones, but they replace words derived from French or Latin with what they consider to be the most appropriate Germanic English equivalents.
Anglish speakers haven’t had to invent an entire language as such, because most of the normal English words we use in daily conversation are of Old English origin. But although spoken English is primarily Germanic, the vast majority of words in the English language are of non Germanic origin, and this is where Anglish purists have had to be inventive. The words they have created are quite charming but confusing at times. Fortunately the Anglish Moot have provided an online Anglish Wordbook (wordbook is Anglish for dictionary) to help you learn the lingo.
In many cases you can guess what is meant because Anglish is quite intuitive. “Expand” is replaced by swell while “edit” is replaced by bework. The Anglish movement has roots way back in the late 1800s when Elias Molee advocated an English purged of its Romance components. He made his case in two books; “Pure Saxon English” and “Plea for an American Language, or Germanic-English”. He proposed a language similar to Anglish called Tutonish, which was intended to be a “union tongue” for all the Germanic-language speaking peoples, with a schematised English syntax and a largely German- and Scandinavian-based vocabulary.
In 1989 Poul Anderson wrote a short text about atomic theory in a version of English free from Romance elements. The text entitled “Uncleftish Beholding” is seen as the blueprint for the modern Anglish movement and what it can achieve. These opening paragraphs give you a feel for how Anderson made scientific speech seem more accessible and almost folksy.
“For most of its being, mankind did not know what things are made
of, but could only guess. With the growth of worldken, we began
to learn, and today we have a beholding of stuff and work that
watching bears out, both in the workstead and in daily life.
The underlying kinds of stuff are the *firststuffs*, which link
together in sundry ways to give rise to the rest. Formerly we
knew of ninety-two firststuffs, from waterstuff, the lightest and
barest, to ymirstuff, the heaviest. Now we have made more, such
as aegirstuff and helstuff.”
The compound words like ymirstuff and aegirstuff reference figures from Nordic mythology, like the primordial giant of creation Ymir and the God of the sea Aegir, in order to describe the base elements of the universe in a Germanic context. Anderson also borrowed from German words to create “waterstuff” and “sourstuff”, coming from Wasserstoff (hydrogen) and Sauerstoff (oxygen).
It is unlikely that the Anglish dialect being created by linguistic enthusiasts will ever become widespread, but it is not without value. One thing about Anglish words is that they are more consistent and easier to understand if you have never heard them before. This is a great lesson for journalists, poets and authors struggling with vocabulary. Language is, after all, a means of making oneself understood. If we endeavour to express the more complicated concepts of life and science with the most basic Anglo-Saxon language possible, then we may find the language is not only easier to understand but also sounds better.
Cosy is an
inadequate word. It reeks of childish nostalgia and brings to mind snivelling
estate agents trying to fob off inconveniently small living spaces. The word is
often used to translate the Swedish mys
and German gemütlich, yet these words hold a place in the hearts of Swedes and
Krauts incomparable to the lowly position where cosy is regarded by the
English. Cosy is quite nauseating and sentimental because of the way it has
been co-opted by shrewd advertising executives seeking to manipulate consumers’
emotions in order to screw them out of a few quid come Christmas time.
It is this disdain for the concept of cosiness, seeing it as nothing
but a vague feeling of comfort with no clearly defined value, utilised by
shysters and idiots for insignificant purposes, that prevents us from
sympathising with the way in which our Germanic cousins perceive the equivalent
terms.
Gemütlich is ruthlessly dismissed by the
Irish Francophile, Samuel Beckett in Mercier
and Camier where it is used in the dishonest way in which cosy is so
frequently employed.
“It’s snug…said the man, there is no other
word. Patrick! He cried. But there was another word, for he added, in a tone of
tentative complicity, whatever that sounds like, It’s … gemütlich.”
The drunken Mercier later chides the manager of
the inn for using such language, “You have a curious way of managing, for a
manager. What have you done with your teeth? Is this what you call gemütlich?”
Though far from an Englishman, Beckett was
guilty of the English speaker’s prejudice against cosiness. My Swedish
ex-girlfriend stressed to me the importance of mys on many an occasion but it
took time for me to realise that this was not a universally understood concept
and indeed the German regards gemütlich differently from how the Swede thinks
of myset. In an effort to
understand, I volunteered the cosy image of a log fire and learned that
this was indeed considered mys. Yet other concepts of English cosiness
were excluded from the Swedish definition, including for example houses with
carpets, for these are alien to the pine wood floors of a Scandinavian home.
Thus it seems mys is necessarily Swedish as much as gemütlich
must be German in character. The people of these nations perceive these concepts
in terms of the consolation they enjoy when experiencing the familiar and
homely comforts that are proper to their respective peoples. Thus cosiness is
inherently un-cosmopolitan. It is national. It is not universal or properly
translatable, which is why cosy can never express what is truly meant by our
continental cousins. The words mys and gemütlich are each used more frequently
and less self-consciously than English words like snug or cosy. I suspect the
true English equivalent is a satisfied exhalation prior to a leisurely gulp of
ale.
There is a common link in language and feeling between us all though.
Although the word mys is sometimes meant as snuggle and can even
have sexual connotations (you know how Swedes are these days), the Swedish for
brave is modig which is etymologically related to gemütlich
which comes fromgemüet “mind, mentality”,
equivalent to gemüt “mind, soul.” Swedish modig
can also mean “valiant, high spirited, courageous”, which is precisely what
the Old English word módig (pronounced moody)used to
mean. We still have a remnant of this word with the modern English mood. So how did brave become moody in England and cosy in Germany?Well, the Old English noun mód could mean mood in general, but was also related to what we now call the
ego or the will. It was associated with arrogance, pride, violence and power
but was also used in other words with very different associations. The adjective
ánmód means “steadfast, fierce, resolute” while módcearig means “sorrowful of heart.” Thus mood was used to describe emotion, mind, heart and will.
Swedish,
English and German are all descended from a common language known as
Proto-Germanic, which in turn comes from Indo-European. The reconstructed
proto-Germanic equivalent of mood ismōdą,
mōdaz “sense, courage, zeal, anger”
and the Proto-Indo-European is mō-, mē- “endeavour, will, temper.” The brave
meaning of mood is retained in other Germanic languages such as Dutch moed and Scots mude, muid, but the Icelandic móður,
meaning “grief, moodiness”, is more
similar to the English word moody.
We
still understand mood to designate distinct atmospheric emotions, yet to be
moody is now exclusivelynegative. This might have something to do with the Old
English word ofermod which means “pride”
and has therefore been regarded as a sin for centuries.But it's interesting to
consider when one is in a “good mood” that these two words are etymologically
related to words meaning God and soul. Little wonder that gemütlich is so important to the Germans;for mood and atmospherewhich put us in touch
with our national past and the associated aesthetics, remind us of our position
in space and time. The familiar and consoling effect of architecture, interior
design, art and old fashioned activities remind us of who we are, speaking to our
“heart, mind, soul” and easing themódcearig
of
the modern age.
I was reading Thomas Malory's Tale of King Arthur (1470) and noticed an obvious similarity between Arthur's words and those of Byrhtnoth in The Anglo-Saxon poem "The Battle of Maldon" (composed c.10th-11th).
Malory's passage refers to 12 messengers from the emperor of Rome who ask King Arthur to pay tribute (trwage) while the Battle of Maldon, written about 500 years earlier, describes a similar exchange between the messenger of a foreign invader (VIkings) and a native (Anglo-Saxon) who is asked for tribute of gold and who says in reply that they shall receive only a tribute of spears. I wonder whether Malory copied the poem or whether the "tribute of spears/swords" is just a recurring meme in medieval storytelling. It's very cool either way.
Malory:
"Ryght so com In to the courte 12 knyghtes that were aged men whiche com frome the Emperoure of Rome. And they asked of Arthure trwage for hys realme othir ellis the emperour wolde destroy hym and all hys londe. 'Well' seyde kynge Arthure, 'ye ar messyngers there fore ye may sey what ye woll othir ellis ye sholde dye Þer fore. But hys ys myne Answere I owȝe the emperour no trewage noÞer none woll I yelde hym but on a fayre fylde I shall yelde hym my trwage that shall be with a sherpe spere othir ellis with a sherpe swerde And that shall nat be longe by my fadirs soule Uther!"
The Battle of Maldon:
Anglo Saxon:
Þa stod on stæðe, stiðlice clypode wicinga ar, wordum mælde, se on beot abead brimliþendraærænde to þam eorle, þær he on ofre stod "Me sendon to þe sæmen snelle,
heton ðe secgan þæt þu most sendan raðe beagas wið gebeorge; and eow betere is þæt ge þisne garræs mid gafole° forgyldon, þon we swa hearde hilde dælon. Ne þurfe we us spillan, gif ge spedaþ to þam;
we willað wið þam golde grið fæstnian. Gyf þu þat gerædest, þe her ricost eart, richest þæt þu þine leoda lysan wille, syllan sæmannum on hyra sylfra dom feoh wið freode, and niman frið æt us,
we willaþ mid þam sceattum us to scype gangan, on flot feran, and eow friþes healdan." Byrhtnoð maþelode, bord hafenode, wand wacne æsc, wordum mælde, yrre and anræd ageaf him andsware:
"Gehyrst þu, sælida, hwæt þis folc segeð? Hi willað eow to gafole garas syllan, ættrynne ord and ealde swurd, þa heregeatu þe eow æt hilde ne deah. Brimmanna boda, abeod eft ongean, sege þinum leodum miccle laþre þæt her stynt unforcuð eorl mid his werode, þe wile gealgean eþel þysne, Æþelredes eard, ealdres mines, folc and foldan. Feallan sceolon
hæþene æt hilde.
Modern English Translation:
Then stood on the shore, stoutly calling out
a Viking messenger, making speech,
menacingly delivering the sea-pirate's
message to this Earl on the opposite shore standing:
"I send to you from the bold seamen,
a command to tell that you must quickly send
treasures to us, and it would be better to you if
with tribute buy off this conflict of spears
than with us bitter battle share.
No need to slaughter each other if you be generous with us;
we would be willing for gold to bring a truce.
If you believe which of these is the noblest path,
and that your people are desirous of assurance,
then pay the sea-farers on their own terms
money towards peace and receive peace from us,
for we with this tribute will take to our ships,
depart on the sea and keep peace with you."
Byrhtnoth spoke, his shield raised aloft,
brandishing a slender ash-wood spear, speaking words,
wrathful and resolute did he give his answer:
"Hear now you, pirate, what this people say?
They desire to you a tribute of spears to pay,
poisoned spears and old swords,
the war-gear which you in battle will not profit from.
Sea-thieve's messenger, deliver back in reply,
tell your people this spiteful message,
that here stands undaunted an Earl with his band of men
who will defend our homeland,
Aethelred's country, the lord of my
people and land. Fall shall you heathen in battle!
The Seafarer is an evocative Anglo-Saxon poem which begins with a mariner lamenting his fate but develops into an existential reflection of life and humanity.
Here is an artistic reading of the poem in translation by Burton Raffe involving an angry cellist.
This video I made begins with a reading of the first 25 lines of Ezra Pound's translation, followed by the original Anglo-Saxon Old English.
A cloaked man punches a woman in the face while a naked guy reaches to look up her dress
I am highly amused by old English folk music.
The lyrics of this folk song tell of a man fixated on a woman, then it tells of a fox being chased by hounds into a churchyard where it disrupts a Protestant wedding by upsetting a parson. Then the singer starts talking about respecting the military and finally he freely admits that the song has no meaning. All of this is interwoven with references to his fixation on a woman named Nancy. WTF?
This song was written in Elizabethan times. In case you can't guess from the revolting lyrics, Watkin's ale means semen. The song tells of how women who partake of too much, become old and ugly before their years. It's kind of the nearest thing they had to those chlamydia adverts we see on tv nowadays.