Читать книгу The History of Oswestry - William Cathrall - Страница 10

Table of Contents

The derivation of the name of the Borough is still, and perhaps ever will be, involved in obscurity. As a place of retreat for the Cymry, or early Britons, when chased from the south by the Roman invaders, it is not unlikely to have had a primitive name that has been lost in the flood of ages. Pennant, whose industry and historical research have earned for him lasting fame, dates the commencement of its history in the Saxon period, not anterior to the celebrated conflict at Oswestry, between Oswald, the Christian King of the Northumbrians, and Penda, the Pagan King of the Mercians, which occurred in the year 642. Other Welsh biographical and historical writers trace the origin of its name to a much earlier period, and contend that Oswal, a son of Cunedda Wledig, sovereign of the Stratclyde Britons, and who lived in the early part of the fifth century, received from his father, as a tribute for special military services, an extensive grant of land, called from him Osweiling, in which the present town of Oswestry is situated. The coincidence is extraordinary that two distinguished chieftains should have flourished—although upwards of two centuries had rolled between their reigns—bearing names so similar to each other, that from either, it may be presumed, the town could, not inappropriately, have derived its present designation. The evidence in favour of Oswald’s right to the sponsorship of Oswestry is, however, in our opinion, so strong, that we must accord the honour to the Northumbrian Monarch, until the Cambrian or British claim shall be more authoritatively established. In the battle between Oswald and Penda, history informs us that the former was defeated and fell; that the barbarian victor ordered that the body of the slain monarch should be cut in pieces, and “stuck on stakes dispersed over the field as so many trophies; or, according to the ancient verses that relate the legend, his head and hands only were thus exposed:—

‘Three crosses, raised at Penda’s dire command, Bore Oswald’s royal head and mangled hands.’”

After this battle the Welsh, or Cymry, (who seemed to have possessed for some time the district including Oswestry,) had called it Croes-Oswallt (Oswald’s Cross), in allusion to Penda’s ignominious exposure of Oswald’s slaughtered body. The spot where the battle was fought is said to have borne the name of Maeshir (the long field), as marking the length and obstinacy of the conflict. In the fulness of the Saxon period the town was known as Oswald’s Tree, in evident reference to Oswald’s death, and subsequently, to the present day, “without let or impediment,” by the name of Oswestry.

Industrious and talented antiquarian writers have given to the town other names and derivations. For instance, we are told that it was termed by the Saxons Blanc-Minster, White-Minster, Album-Monasterium, from its “fair and white Monastery,” whilst the Cymry, or “Old Britons,” as Williams denominates them, “called the town Tre’r Fesen, Tre’r Cadeiriau, the Town of the Oak Chairs,” or, as another writer has it, “the Town of Great Oaks.” These terms bear special allusion to Oswald’s unfortunate arrival in this district; for the ancient seal of the town, cut in brass, represents King Oswald sitting in his robes on a chair, holding a sword in his right hand, and an oak branch in his left, with the words around, “De Oswaldestre sigillum commune.” In repeating the long and tedious catalogue of names and derivations, it will be proper to mention that one writer renders the designation Tre’r Cadeiriau as follows:—“Oswestry was called by the Britons Tre’r Cadeiriau, literally the Town of Chairs, or Seats, commanding an extensive view, (as Cadair Idris, the chair of Idris, and others,) as there are several eminences commanding such views in the neighbourhood.”

Here is a chapter on civic nomenclature and varied derivation, very curious, perhaps, to many readers, but little edifying to those who ask with the poet, “What’s in a name?” And yet, ancient civic names, like many other ancient relics, have valuable and salutary uses. They are as finger-posts to the Past; in some instances inviting us to the honest path of truth and honour; in others deterring us from the rugged ways of ignorance and error. In almost all respects they enable us to institute comparisons and form contrasts between men and manners in ancient and modern days. Whilst looking at such names, we are too frequently reminded of times when Might overcame Right, and are gently led with thankful spirits to the Present, when, in our own happy and highly-privileged age, every Briton can sit “under his vine and under his fig-tree,” none daring to make him afraid.