We thus see that kingship in the strict sense of the word, as distinguished from the government of Dukes or Ealdormen, had its beginning among the English in Britain, not in the very first moment of the Conquest, but in the years which immediately followed it, within the lifetime of the first generation of conquerors. The same distinction which we find among the Angles and Saxons we find also among the kindred nations of Scandinavia. When the Danes and Northmen began those invasions which led to such important settlements in Northern and Eastern England, we always find two marked classes of leaders, the Kings and the Jarls, the same word as Eorl. Of these the Jarls answer to the English Ealdormen40. The distinction is again clearly marked, when we read that the Old-Saxons, the Saxons of the mainland, were ruled, not by Kings, but by what our Latin writer is pleased to call Satraps– that is, of course, Dukes or Ealdormen41. But it is most strongly marked of all in several accounts where we read of nations which had been united under Kings falling back again upon the earlier dominion of these smaller local chiefs. Thus the Lombards in Italy, who had been led by Kings to their great conquest, are said for a while to have given up kingly government, and to have again set up a rule of independent Dukes. So the West-Saxons in our own island are said at one time to have cast away kingly government, and to have in the like sort fallen back on the rule of independent Ealdormen42. In all these cases, we should be glad to know more clearly than we do what was the exact distinction between the King and the Duke or Ealdorman. But it is plain that the King was the representative of a closer national unity, while the Ealdorman represented the tendency on the part of each tribe or district to claim independence for itself. The government of the Ealdorman may not have been less effective than that of the King. If we remember the distinction drawn by Tacitus as to the respective qualifications for the two offices, we may even believe that the rule of the Ealdorman may have been the more effective. But we may be sure that the Ealdorman was felt to be, in some way or other, less distant from the mass of his people than the King was; the place of King could be held only by one of the stock of Woden; the place of Ealdorman, it would seem, was open to any man who showed that he possessed the gifts which were needed in a leader of men.
Kingship thus became the law of all the Teutonic tribes which settled in Britain and whose union made up the English nation. That union, we must always remember, was very gradual. Step by step, smaller Kings or independent Ealdormen admitted the supremacy of a more powerful King. Then, in a second stage, the smaller state was absolutely incorporated with the greater. Its ruler now, if he continued to rule at all, ruled no longer as an independent or even as a vassal sovereign, but as a mere magistrate, acting by the deputed authority of the sovereign of whom he held his office43. The settlement made by Cerdic and Cynric on the southern coast grew, step by step, by the incorporation of many small kingdoms and independent Ealdormanships, into the lordship of the whole Isle of Britain, into the immediate kingship of all its English inhabitants. The Ealdorman of a corner of Hampshire thus grew step by step into the King of the West-Saxons, the King of the Saxons, the King of the English, the Emperor of all Britain, the lord, in later times, of a dominion reaching into every quarter of the world44. But the point which now concerns us is that, with each step in the growth of the King’s territorial dominion, his political authority within that dominion has grown also. The change from an Ealdorman to a King, the change from a heathen King to a Christian King crowned and anointed, doubtless did much to raise the power and dignity of the ruler who thus at each change surrounded himself with new titles to reverence. But this was not all. The mere increase in the extent of territorial dominion would at each step work most powerfully to increase the direct power of the King, and still more powerfully to increase the vague reverence which everywhere attaches to kingship. In Homer we read of Kings, some of whom were “more kingly,” more of Kings, than others. So it was among ourselves. A King who reigned over all Wessex was more of a King than a King who reigned only over the Isle of Wight, and a King who reigned over all England was more of a King than a King who reigned only over Wessex45. The greater the territory over which a King reigns the less familiar he becomes to the mass of his people; he is more and more shrouded in a mysterious awe, he is more and more looked on as a being of a different nature from other men, of a different nature even from other civil magistrates and military leaders, however high their authority and however illustrious their personal character. Such a separation of the King from the mass of his people may indeed, in some states of things, lead, not to the increase, but to the lessening of his practical power. He may become in popular belief too great and awful for the effectual exercise of power, and, by dint of his very greatness, his practical authority may be transferred to his representatives who govern in his name. He may be surrounded with a worship almost more than earthly, while the reality of power passes to a Mayor of the Palace, or is split up among the satraps of distant provinces46. But, with a race of vigorous and politic Kings ruling over a nation whose tendencies