THE LITTLE MANX NATION

By Hall Caine

Published by William Heinemann - 1891

Contents

To the REVEREND T. S. BROWN, M.A.

You see what I send you—my lectures at the Royal Institution in the Spring. In making a little book of them I have thought it best to leave them as they were delivered, with all the colloquialisms that are natural to spoken words frankly exposed to cold print. This does not help them to any particular distinction as literature, but perhaps it lends them an ease and familiarity which may partly atone to you and to all good souls for their plentiful lack of dignity. I have said so often that I am not an historian, that I ought to add that whatever history lies hidden here belongs to Train, our only accredited chronicler, and, even at the risk of bowing too low, I must needs protest, in our north-country homespun, that he shall have the pudding if he will also take the pudding-bag. You know what I mean. At some points our history—especially our early history—is still so vague, so dubious, so full of mystery. It is all the fault of little Mannanan, our ancient Manx magician, who enshrouded our island in mist. Or should I say it is to his credit, for has he not left us through all time some shadowy figures to fight about, like "rael, thrue, reg'lar" Manxmen. As for the stories, the "yarns" that lie like flies—like blue-bottles, like bees, I trust not like wasps—in the amber of the history, you will see that they are mainly my own. On second thought it occurs to me that maybe they are mainly yours. Let us say that they are both yours and mine, or perhaps, if the world finds anything good in them, any humour, any pathos, any racy touches of our rugged people, you will permit me to determine their ownership in the way of this paraphrase of Coleridge's doggerel version of the two Latin hexameters—

"They're mine and they are likewise yours, But an if that will not do, Let them be mine, good friend! for I Am the poorer of the two."

Hawthorns, Keswick, June 1891.

DETAILED CONTENTS

THE STORY OF THE MANX KINGS

THE STORY OF THE MANX KINGS
Islanders—Our Island—The Name of our Island—Our History—King
Orry—The Tynwald—The Lost Saga—The Manx Macbeth—The Manx
Glo'ster—Scotch and English Dominion—The Stanley Dynasty—Iliam
Dhoan—The Athol Dynasty—Smuggling and Wrecking—The Revestment—Home
Rule—Orry's Sons

THE STORY OF THE MANX BISHOPS

THE STORY OF THE MANX BISHOPS
The Druids—Conversion to Christianity—The Early Bishops of
Man—Bishops of the Welsh Dynasty—Bishops of the Norse Dynasty—Sodor
and Man—The Early Bishops of the House of Stanley—Tithes in
Kind—The Gambling Bishop—The Deemsters—The Bishopric Vacant—Bishop
Wilson—Bishop Wilson's Censures—The Great Corn Famine—The Bishop at
Court—Stories of Bishop Wilson—Quarrels of Church and State—Some
Old Ordeals—The Herring Fishery—The Fishermen's Service—Some Old
Laws—Katherine Kinrade—Bishop Wilson's last Days—The Athol Bishops.

THE STORY OF THE MANX PEOPLE

THE STORY OF THE MANX PEOPLE
The Manx Language—Manx Names—Manx imagination—Manx Proverbs—Manx
Ballads—Manx Carols—Decay of the Manx Language—Manx
Superstitions—Manx Stories—Manx "Characters"—Manx
Characteristics—Manx Types—Literary Associations—Manx
Progress—Conclusion

THE LITTLE MANX NATION

THE STORY OF THE MANX KINGS

There are just two ideas which are associated in the popular imagination with the first thought of the Isle of Man. The one is that Manxmen have three legs, and the other that Manx cats have no tails. But whatever the popular conception, or misconception, of Man and its people, I shall assume that what you ask from me is that simple knowledge of simple things which has come to me by the accident of my parentage. I must confess to you at the outset that I am not much of a hand at grave history. Facts and figures I cannot expound with authority. But I know the history of the Isle of Man, can see it clear, can see it whole, and perhaps it will content you if I can show you the soul of it and make it to live before you. In attempting to traverse the history I feel like one who carries a dark lantern through ten dark centuries. I turn the bull's eye on this incident and that, take a peep here and there, a white light now, and then a blank darkness. Those ten centuries are full of lusty fights, victories, vanquishments, quarrels, peacemaking, shindies big and little, rumpus solemn and ridiculous, clouds of dust, regal dust, political dust, and religious dust—you know the way of it. But beneath it all and behind it all lies the real, true, living human heart of Manxland. I want to show it to you, if you will allow me to spare the needful time from facts and figures. It will get you close to Man and its people, and it is not to be found in the history books.

ISLANDERS

And now, first, we Manxmen are islanders. It is not everybody who lives on an island that is an islander. You know what I mean. I mean by an islander one whose daily life is affected by the constant presence of the sea. This is possible in a big island if it is far enough away from the rest of the world, Iceland, for example, but it is inevitable in a little one. The sea is always present with Manxmen. Everything they do, everything they say, gets the colour and shimmer of the sea. The sea goes into their bones, it comes out at their skin. Their talk is full of it. They buy by it, they sell by it, they quarrel by it, they fight by it, they swear by it, they pray by it. Of course they are not conscious of