Hubba in the Ninth Century. Perhaps the safest distinction is to draw a line through Ipswich, Northampton, and Shrewsbury: in the case of strange Teutonic words that crop up to the North of this line, we should lean to Scandinavia; in the opposite case, to Friesland. Thus, in the account of the year 1118, we find wyrre, our war; this reminds us of the Old Dutch werren; in Latin, militare. In 1124, the new form bœrlic, our barley, replaces the old bere, which still lingers in Scotland. Cnawlece (acknowledge) is seen for the first time in a forgery inserted in the account of the year 963. As might be expected, Scandinavian words, long used by the Dano-Anglian peasantry, were creeping into written English prose. The Norse bathe (ambo) drove out the Old English ba and butu. In the forged charter inserted in the annals of 656, we read of the hamlet Grætecros; the last syllable of this comes from the Norse kross, and it was this word, not the French croix, that supplanted our Old English ród (rood). In 1128, we find the phrase, ‘þurh his micele wiles;’ this new word, which is still in our mouths, comes from the Scandinavian vaela (decipere). In 1131, we see ‘þa wæs tenn ploges;’ the substantive is from the Scandinavian plôgr; English is the only Teutonic tongue that of old lacked this synonym for aratrum. The Scandinavian fra replaces the Old English fram; and we still say, ‘to and fro.’ Where an older writer would have written ‘on ðe norð half,’ the Peterborough Chronicler for 1131 changes on into o; from this new form, which soon spread into the South, we get our aloft, aright, and such like. We may still write either ashore or on shore.
