as it was far more enduring than the petty lordship
which stretched over Eastern Britain. Only three
or four years after Gregory had pitied the English
slaves in the market-place of Rome, he found himself
as Bishop of the Imperial City in a position to carry
out his dream of winning Britain to the faith; and
an opening was given him by AEthelberht’s marriage
with Bertha, a daughter of the Frankish king Charibert
of Paris. Bertha like her Frankish kindred was
a Christian; a Christian bishop accompanied her from
Gaul; and a ruined Christian church, the church of
St. Martin beside the royal city of Canterbury, was
given them for their worship. The king himself
remained true to the gods of his fathers; but his marriage
no doubt encouraged Gregory to send a Roman abbot,
Augustine, at the head of a band of monks to preach
the Gospel to the English people. The missionaries
landed in 597 in the Isle of Thanet, at the spot where
Hengest had landed more than a century before; and
AEthelberht received them sitting in the open air
on the chalk-down above Minster, where the eye nowadays
catches miles away over the marshes the dim tower of
Canterbury. The king listened patiently to the
long sermon of Augustine as the interpreters the abbot
had brought with him from Gaul rendered it in the
English tongue. “Your words are fair,”
AEthelberht replied at last with English good sense,
“but they are new and of doubtful meaning.”
For himself, he said, he refused to forsake the gods
of his fathers, but with the usual religious tolerance
of the German race he promised shelter and protection
to the strangers. The band of monks entered Canterbury
bearing before them a silver cross with a picture
of Christ, and singing in concert the strains of the
litany of their Church. “Turn from this
city, O Lord,” they sang, “Thine anger
and wrath, and turn it from Thy holy house, for we
have sinned.” And then in strange contrast
came the jubilant cry of the older Hebrew worship,
the cry which Gregory had wrested in prophetic earnestness
from the name of the Yorkshire king in the Roman market-place,
“Alleluia!”
[Sidenote: Christian England]
It was thus that the spot which witnessed the landing
of Hengest became yet better known as the landing-place
of Augustine. But the second landing at Ebbsfleet
was in no small measure a reversal and undoing of
the first. “Strangers from Rome” was
the title with which the missionaries first fronted
the English king. The march of the monks as they
chaunted their solemn litany was in one sense a return
of the Roman legions who withdrew at the trumpet-call
of Alaric. It was to the tongue and the thought
not of Gregory only but of the men whom his Jutish
fathers had slaughtered or driven out that AEthelberht
listened in the preaching of Augustine. Canterbury,
the earliest royal city of German England, became
a centre of Latin influence. The Roman tongue
became again one of the tongues of Britain, the language
of its worship, its correspondence, its literature.