[RGB: Well, Evelyn's map has the Thames flowing through Covent Garden and the Temple as though nothing were there. I don't think the course changed that much. :wacko:
Cornwall, for its part, is certainly quite a bit larger in this story than in our history. It's been that way for a while, at that.
asd21593: And here's yet another more, and quite a timely one at that.
Charles Dickens, perhaps the most famous British author of the last two decades of Empress Elisabeth II's reign (and those of Francis I and William II following her), had by 1843 already made a name for himself with some of his best-known works, particularly The Pickwick Papers and Oliver Twist. The first half of the 19th century had also seen the rise of the celebration of Christmas itself, particularly as it coincided with the Empress' birthday (and the Imperial family's private celebrations of it, including the first British trees, in form imported from Germany by Oliver II), but also as the Purital influence that had surpressed it as semi-Pagan and excessively merry had faded. It was, in fact, 1843 that was the main turning-point for the holiday; along with Dickens' publishing of A Christmas Carol on 19 December, that year also saw the first standardised Christmas cards sold in Britain.
Dickens' story also continued his exposition of the problems suffered by working-class Londoners of his time, a theme already begun by this point in Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby. The main character, Ebeneezer Scrooge, is a criticism of the already-ingrained but yet to be named "Puritan work ethic", as he becomes so obsessed with hard work and gaining a comfortable fortune that he begins more and more to ignore everyone else around him and mistreat his empolyee, Bob Cratchit, as well as show blatant disregard for the poor of the city. The book was written in the wake of a disastrous reform of the Poor Laws in 1834, a matter which will be shown in its own context when the time comes.
This first section comes from early in the book, when Scrooge recieves a visit from the ghost of his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley.
Þe cleafe-door flew open witþ a booming din, and þen he heard þe breaht micle louder, on þe floors below; þen coming up þe stairs; þen coming straiht towards his door.
"It's humbug still!" said Scrooge. "I won't beliefe it."
His colour wended þough, hwan, wiþ out a stop, it came on þrouh þe door, and oferfared into þe room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, þe dying fire leaped up, as þouh it yelled, "I cen him; Marley's Ghost!" and fell again.
Þe same neb: þe sooþly same. Marley in his pigtail, wonted waistcoat, tihts and boots; þe þreads on the latter bristling, lice his pigtail, and his coat-scirts, and þe hair upon his head. Þe fetter he drew was clipped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made (for Scrooge besaw it nihly) of casse-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heafy burses wrouht in steel. His body was transparent; so þat Scrooge, beseeing him, and loocing þrouh his waistcoat, could see þe twan buttons on his coat behind.
...
"Man of the worldly mind!" andswore þe Ghost, "do ye beliefe in me or not?"
"I do", said Scrooge. "I must. But hwy do ghosts walc þe earþ, and hwy do þey come to me?"
"It is yebade of efery man" þe Ghost awended, "þat þe ghost wiþin him scould walc abroad amang his fellowmen, and fare far and wide; and if þat ghost goes not forþ in life, it is doomed to do so after deaþ. It is doomed to wander þrouh þe world - oh, woe is me! - and witness hwat it cannot scare, but miht hafe scared on earþ, and wended to happiness!"
Again the scin raised a yell, and scook its fetter and wrung its scadowy hands.
"Ye are fettered," said Scrooge. "Tell me hwy?"
"I wear þe fetter I smiþed in life", andswore þe Ghost. "I made it ring by ring, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my awn free will, and of my awn free will I wore it. Is its liceness fremd to you?"
Scrooge cwaced mair and mair.
"Or would ye cen," afollowed þe Ghost, "þe weiht and lengþ of þe strang bey ye bear yourself? It was full as heafy and as long as þis, sefen Christsmas Efes ago. Ye have wrought on it, siþe. It is ane unwieldy fetter!"
[Marley states that Scrooge will then receive visits from three sprits who will show him the error of his ways. The first, the Ghost of Christmas Past, shows him visions of his youth, his apprenticeship to the benevolent Mr. Fezziwig, but things began to take a negative turn:]
Again Scrooge saw himself. He was elder now; a man in þe first of life. His neb had not þe harsc and stiff lines of later years; but it had begun to wear þe tocens of busying and yitsendness. Þere was a ceen, greedy, restless stirring in þe eye, þe hwilc scaw þe burning þat had tacen root, and hwere þe scadow of þe growing tree would fall.
He was not alone, but sat by the side of a feir young girl in a mourning-reil; in hwase eyes þere were tears, þe hwilc sparcled in þe liht þat scone out of þe Ghost of Christsmas Past.
"It is worþed little," sce said, softly. "To ye, sooþly little. Aneoþer idol haþ forþrang me; and if it can cere and comfort you in tides to come, as I would have tried to do, I hafe no riht yerede to griefe."
"Hwat idol haþ forþrouht you?" he oftold.
"A golden one."
"Þis is þe efen-handed dealing of þe world!" he said. "Þere is noþing on hwilc it is so hard as fescaftness, and þere is noþing it avows to forguilt wiþ swilc grimness as þe afollowing of wealþ!"
"Ye fear þe world too micel" sce andswore, bleþely. "All your oþer hopes hafe menged into þe hope of being beyond þe wyrd of its laþerly scendle. I hafe seen your eþeller aspirations fall off ane by ane, untill þe harre-burning, Gain, engrosses you. Hafe I not?"
"Hwat þen?" he gaincwided. "Efen if I hafe grown swa micel wiser, hwat þen? I am not wended towards you."
Sce scooc her head.
"Am I?"
"Ouer neeming is ane ald ane. It was made hwan þat we were boþ arm and eaþehild to be so, untill, in good tide, we could yebetter ouer worldly lot by ouer longmoodly worcfulness. Ye are wended. Hwan þat it was made, ye were aneother man."
"I was a boy," he said unyeþildly.
"Your awn feeling tells you þat ye were not hwat ye are," sce returned.
"I am. Þat hwilc behet happiness hwan þat we were ane in heart, is frauht wiþ tourn now þat we are twain. How often and how ceenly I hafe þouht of þis, I will not sey. It is enouh þat I hafe þouht of it, and can unbind you."
"Hafe I efer souht unbinding?"
"In words. Ney. Nefer."
"In hwat, þen?"
"In a wended cind; in ane oncearred ghost; in aneoþer loft of life; aneoþer Hope as its great end. In eferyþing þat made my lofe of any worþ or dearness in your siht. If þis had nefer been between us," said þe girl, loocing mildly, but wiþ steadiness, upon him; "tell me, would ye seec me out and try to win me now? Ah, ney!"
He seemed to yield to þe doomfastness of þis reding, in spite of himself. But he said wiþ a struggle, "Ye þinc not."
"I would gladly þinc oþerwise if I could," sce andswore. "Heafen cens! Hwan þat I hafe learned a Sooþ lice þis, I cen how strong and unstrimable it must be. But if ye were free to-dey, to-morrow, yesterdey, can efen I beliefe þat ye would ciose a dowerless girl - ye hwa, in your sooþly yetrowing wiþ her, weih eferyþing by Gain: or, ciosing her, if for a brachwil ye were false enouh to your ane recing prinsiple to do swa, do I not cen þat your rueing and besorrowing would siorely follow? I do; and I unbind you. Wiþ a full heart, for the lofe of him ye ance were."
He was about to speac; but wiþ her head turned from him, sce feng on.
"Ye may - þe yemind of hwat is past half maceþ me hope ye will - hafe angness in þis. A sooþly, sooþly scort tide, and ye will yetace þe aftyeceaying of it, gladly, as ane unfremful dream, fram þe hwilc it happened well þat ye awoke. May ye be happy in þe life ye hafe ciosen!"
Sce left him, and þey parted.
[The next spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Present, showed first the effect that Scrooge's poor treatment of the Cratchit family had on them and particularly the crippled child Tiny Tim. The final one, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, showed a large number of people incongruously happy with the death of a certain man - soon shown to be Scrooge himself - and the continually worsening situation of the Cratchits, including the death of Tiny Tim. Scrooge, finally realising just what he was doing, relented and promised to finally do good to others and keep the sprit of Christmas in his heart:]
Scrooge was better þan his word. He did it all, and endlessly mair; and to Tiny Tim, hwa did NOT die, he was ane afterly faþer. He became as good a friend, as good a harre, as good a mann, as þe ald bury cenned, or any oþer good bury, town, or borouh, in þe good ald world. Some folc lauhed to see the oncearring in him, but he let þe lauh, and little heeded þem; for he was wise enouh to cen þat noþing efer happened on þis sphere, for good, at þe hwilc some folc did not hafe þeir fill of lauhter at þe outset; and cenning þat swilc as þese would be blind anyway, he þouht it cwite as well þat þe scould wrincle up þeir eyes in grins, as hafe þe addling in less fair forms. His awn heart lauhed: and þat was cwite enouh for him.
He had ney furþer yemeanness wiþ Ghosts, but lifed upon þe Befull Forbearing Prinsiple, efer afterwards; and it was allways said of him, þat he cenned how to ceep Christsmass well, if any mann alife awned þe cnowledge. May þat be sooþly said of us, and all of us! And swa, as Tiny Tim besaw, God bless Us, Efery Ane!
Cornwall, for its part, is certainly quite a bit larger in this story than in our history. It's been that way for a while, at that.
asd21593: And here's yet another more, and quite a timely one at that.
Christmas 2009 Special: Sources of the English Language, #13
A Christsmas Carole in Prose, Being a Ghost Tale of Christsmas
by Charles Dickens
A Christsmas Carole in Prose, Being a Ghost Tale of Christsmas
by Charles Dickens
Charles Dickens, perhaps the most famous British author of the last two decades of Empress Elisabeth II's reign (and those of Francis I and William II following her), had by 1843 already made a name for himself with some of his best-known works, particularly The Pickwick Papers and Oliver Twist. The first half of the 19th century had also seen the rise of the celebration of Christmas itself, particularly as it coincided with the Empress' birthday (and the Imperial family's private celebrations of it, including the first British trees, in form imported from Germany by Oliver II), but also as the Purital influence that had surpressed it as semi-Pagan and excessively merry had faded. It was, in fact, 1843 that was the main turning-point for the holiday; along with Dickens' publishing of A Christmas Carol on 19 December, that year also saw the first standardised Christmas cards sold in Britain.
Dickens' story also continued his exposition of the problems suffered by working-class Londoners of his time, a theme already begun by this point in Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby. The main character, Ebeneezer Scrooge, is a criticism of the already-ingrained but yet to be named "Puritan work ethic", as he becomes so obsessed with hard work and gaining a comfortable fortune that he begins more and more to ignore everyone else around him and mistreat his empolyee, Bob Cratchit, as well as show blatant disregard for the poor of the city. The book was written in the wake of a disastrous reform of the Poor Laws in 1834, a matter which will be shown in its own context when the time comes.
This first section comes from early in the book, when Scrooge recieves a visit from the ghost of his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley.
Þe cleafe-door flew open witþ a booming din, and þen he heard þe breaht micle louder, on þe floors below; þen coming up þe stairs; þen coming straiht towards his door.
"It's humbug still!" said Scrooge. "I won't beliefe it."
His colour wended þough, hwan, wiþ out a stop, it came on þrouh þe door, and oferfared into þe room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, þe dying fire leaped up, as þouh it yelled, "I cen him; Marley's Ghost!" and fell again.
Þe same neb: þe sooþly same. Marley in his pigtail, wonted waistcoat, tihts and boots; þe þreads on the latter bristling, lice his pigtail, and his coat-scirts, and þe hair upon his head. Þe fetter he drew was clipped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made (for Scrooge besaw it nihly) of casse-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heafy burses wrouht in steel. His body was transparent; so þat Scrooge, beseeing him, and loocing þrouh his waistcoat, could see þe twan buttons on his coat behind.
...
"Man of the worldly mind!" andswore þe Ghost, "do ye beliefe in me or not?"
"I do", said Scrooge. "I must. But hwy do ghosts walc þe earþ, and hwy do þey come to me?"
"It is yebade of efery man" þe Ghost awended, "þat þe ghost wiþin him scould walc abroad amang his fellowmen, and fare far and wide; and if þat ghost goes not forþ in life, it is doomed to do so after deaþ. It is doomed to wander þrouh þe world - oh, woe is me! - and witness hwat it cannot scare, but miht hafe scared on earþ, and wended to happiness!"
Again the scin raised a yell, and scook its fetter and wrung its scadowy hands.
"Ye are fettered," said Scrooge. "Tell me hwy?"
"I wear þe fetter I smiþed in life", andswore þe Ghost. "I made it ring by ring, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my awn free will, and of my awn free will I wore it. Is its liceness fremd to you?"
Scrooge cwaced mair and mair.
"Or would ye cen," afollowed þe Ghost, "þe weiht and lengþ of þe strang bey ye bear yourself? It was full as heafy and as long as þis, sefen Christsmas Efes ago. Ye have wrought on it, siþe. It is ane unwieldy fetter!"
[Marley states that Scrooge will then receive visits from three sprits who will show him the error of his ways. The first, the Ghost of Christmas Past, shows him visions of his youth, his apprenticeship to the benevolent Mr. Fezziwig, but things began to take a negative turn:]
Again Scrooge saw himself. He was elder now; a man in þe first of life. His neb had not þe harsc and stiff lines of later years; but it had begun to wear þe tocens of busying and yitsendness. Þere was a ceen, greedy, restless stirring in þe eye, þe hwilc scaw þe burning þat had tacen root, and hwere þe scadow of þe growing tree would fall.
He was not alone, but sat by the side of a feir young girl in a mourning-reil; in hwase eyes þere were tears, þe hwilc sparcled in þe liht þat scone out of þe Ghost of Christsmas Past.
"It is worþed little," sce said, softly. "To ye, sooþly little. Aneoþer idol haþ forþrang me; and if it can cere and comfort you in tides to come, as I would have tried to do, I hafe no riht yerede to griefe."
"Hwat idol haþ forþrouht you?" he oftold.
"A golden one."
"Þis is þe efen-handed dealing of þe world!" he said. "Þere is noþing on hwilc it is so hard as fescaftness, and þere is noþing it avows to forguilt wiþ swilc grimness as þe afollowing of wealþ!"
"Ye fear þe world too micel" sce andswore, bleþely. "All your oþer hopes hafe menged into þe hope of being beyond þe wyrd of its laþerly scendle. I hafe seen your eþeller aspirations fall off ane by ane, untill þe harre-burning, Gain, engrosses you. Hafe I not?"
"Hwat þen?" he gaincwided. "Efen if I hafe grown swa micel wiser, hwat þen? I am not wended towards you."
Sce scooc her head.
"Am I?"
"Ouer neeming is ane ald ane. It was made hwan þat we were boþ arm and eaþehild to be so, untill, in good tide, we could yebetter ouer worldly lot by ouer longmoodly worcfulness. Ye are wended. Hwan þat it was made, ye were aneother man."
"I was a boy," he said unyeþildly.
"Your awn feeling tells you þat ye were not hwat ye are," sce returned.
"I am. Þat hwilc behet happiness hwan þat we were ane in heart, is frauht wiþ tourn now þat we are twain. How often and how ceenly I hafe þouht of þis, I will not sey. It is enouh þat I hafe þouht of it, and can unbind you."
"Hafe I efer souht unbinding?"
"In words. Ney. Nefer."
"In hwat, þen?"
"In a wended cind; in ane oncearred ghost; in aneoþer loft of life; aneoþer Hope as its great end. In eferyþing þat made my lofe of any worþ or dearness in your siht. If þis had nefer been between us," said þe girl, loocing mildly, but wiþ steadiness, upon him; "tell me, would ye seec me out and try to win me now? Ah, ney!"
He seemed to yield to þe doomfastness of þis reding, in spite of himself. But he said wiþ a struggle, "Ye þinc not."
"I would gladly þinc oþerwise if I could," sce andswore. "Heafen cens! Hwan þat I hafe learned a Sooþ lice þis, I cen how strong and unstrimable it must be. But if ye were free to-dey, to-morrow, yesterdey, can efen I beliefe þat ye would ciose a dowerless girl - ye hwa, in your sooþly yetrowing wiþ her, weih eferyþing by Gain: or, ciosing her, if for a brachwil ye were false enouh to your ane recing prinsiple to do swa, do I not cen þat your rueing and besorrowing would siorely follow? I do; and I unbind you. Wiþ a full heart, for the lofe of him ye ance were."
He was about to speac; but wiþ her head turned from him, sce feng on.
"Ye may - þe yemind of hwat is past half maceþ me hope ye will - hafe angness in þis. A sooþly, sooþly scort tide, and ye will yetace þe aftyeceaying of it, gladly, as ane unfremful dream, fram þe hwilc it happened well þat ye awoke. May ye be happy in þe life ye hafe ciosen!"
Sce left him, and þey parted.
[The next spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Present, showed first the effect that Scrooge's poor treatment of the Cratchit family had on them and particularly the crippled child Tiny Tim. The final one, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, showed a large number of people incongruously happy with the death of a certain man - soon shown to be Scrooge himself - and the continually worsening situation of the Cratchits, including the death of Tiny Tim. Scrooge, finally realising just what he was doing, relented and promised to finally do good to others and keep the sprit of Christmas in his heart:]
Scrooge was better þan his word. He did it all, and endlessly mair; and to Tiny Tim, hwa did NOT die, he was ane afterly faþer. He became as good a friend, as good a harre, as good a mann, as þe ald bury cenned, or any oþer good bury, town, or borouh, in þe good ald world. Some folc lauhed to see the oncearring in him, but he let þe lauh, and little heeded þem; for he was wise enouh to cen þat noþing efer happened on þis sphere, for good, at þe hwilc some folc did not hafe þeir fill of lauhter at þe outset; and cenning þat swilc as þese would be blind anyway, he þouht it cwite as well þat þe scould wrincle up þeir eyes in grins, as hafe þe addling in less fair forms. His awn heart lauhed: and þat was cwite enouh for him.
He had ney furþer yemeanness wiþ Ghosts, but lifed upon þe Befull Forbearing Prinsiple, efer afterwards; and it was allways said of him, þat he cenned how to ceep Christsmass well, if any mann alife awned þe cnowledge. May þat be sooþly said of us, and all of us! And swa, as Tiny Tim besaw, God bless Us, Efery Ane!
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