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Our Anglo-Saxon character—slow to anger, rooted in justice and fair dealing, stolid in the face of provocation until the line of endurance is crossed—has long been known to our adversaries.
It's this very nature that the slaving rent-seekers of every stripe, those who own and control the government (itself the ultimate rent-seeker), have exploited and are exploiting with cold precision. Through passive-aggressive conquest via mass importation of incompatible peoples, they flood our homelands, rebuild the middle class with, while eroding our cohesion, and committing vast hidden atrocities against us—crimes of violence, cultural displacement, and demographic and economic replacement—all while pushing right up to the boundary of Saxon Hate without daring to cross it fully. They count on our patience, our preference for order over chaos, and our reluctance to rise until every just recourse is exhausted.
Yet the question remains: when is enough enough? When does Saxon Hate become the only answer?
"Norman and Saxon - A.D. 1100"
First published in A History of England (1911) by C.R.L. Fletcher and Rudyard Kipling (source: The Kipling Society)
"My son," said the Norman Baron, "I am dying, and you will be heir
To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for share
When he conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is.
But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:–
"The Saxon is not like us Normans. His manners are not so polite.
But he never means anything serious till he talks about justice and right.
When he stands like an ox in the furrow – with his sullen set eyes on your own,
And grumbles, 'This isn't fair dealing,' my son, leave the Saxon alone.
"You can horsewhip your Gascony archers, or torture your Picardy spears;
But don't try that game on the Saxon; you'll have the whole brood round your ears.
From the richest old Thane in the county to the poorest chained serf in the field,
They'll be at you and on you like hornets, and, if you are wise, you will yield.
"But first you must master their language, their dialect, proverbs and songs.
Don't trust any clerk to interpret when they come with the tale of their wrongs.
Let them know that you know what they're saying; let them feel that you know what to say.
Yes, even when you want to go hunting, hear 'em out if it takes you all day.
"They'll drink every hour of the daylight and poach every hour of the dark.
It's the sport not the rabbits they're after (we've plenty of game in the park).
Don't hang them or cut off their fingers. That's wasteful as well as unkind,
For a hard-bitten, South-country poacher makes the best man-at-arms you can find.
"Appear with your wife and the children at their weddings and funerals and feasts.
Be polite but not friendly to Bishops; be good to all poor parish priests.
Say 'we,' 'us' and 'ours' when you're talking, instead of 'you fellows' and 'I.'
Don't ride over seeds; keep your temper; and never you tell 'em a lie!"
...
Even yet we Saxons are men of immense violent capacity who, above all, despite being rough men, are loath to harm women and lesser males.
This noble reluctance—the very marrow of our protective strength, our instinct to shield the vulnerable and uphold ordered peace—has become the rent-seekers’ most potent weapon. Through passive-aggressive abuse, demographic swamping, and the calculated inversion of our virtues, they own us in our own lands. If we're to survive and restore ourselves, we must accept this truth: our greatest strength has been turned into our most destructive weakness.
To preserve our people, our families, and our inheritance for the generations yet unborn, we will have to set this reticence to harm women and the lesser aside when the hour demands, rise with cold Saxon Hate, and do what must be done—no matter how bitter and brutal the necessity.
It's this very nature that the slaving rent-seekers of every stripe, those who own and control the government (itself the ultimate rent-seeker), have exploited and are exploiting with cold precision. Through passive-aggressive conquest via mass importation of incompatible peoples, they flood our homelands, rebuild the middle class with, while eroding our cohesion, and committing vast hidden atrocities against us—crimes of violence, cultural displacement, and demographic and economic replacement—all while pushing right up to the boundary of Saxon Hate without daring to cross it fully. They count on our patience, our preference for order over chaos, and our reluctance to rise until every just recourse is exhausted.
Yet the question remains: when is enough enough? When does Saxon Hate become the only answer?
"Norman and Saxon - A.D. 1100"
First published in A History of England (1911) by C.R.L. Fletcher and Rudyard Kipling (source: The Kipling Society)
"My son," said the Norman Baron, "I am dying, and you will be heir
To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for share
When he conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is.
But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:–
"The Saxon is not like us Normans. His manners are not so polite.
But he never means anything serious till he talks about justice and right.
When he stands like an ox in the furrow – with his sullen set eyes on your own,
And grumbles, 'This isn't fair dealing,' my son, leave the Saxon alone.
"You can horsewhip your Gascony archers, or torture your Picardy spears;
But don't try that game on the Saxon; you'll have the whole brood round your ears.
From the richest old Thane in the county to the poorest chained serf in the field,
They'll be at you and on you like hornets, and, if you are wise, you will yield.
"But first you must master their language, their dialect, proverbs and songs.
Don't trust any clerk to interpret when they come with the tale of their wrongs.
Let them know that you know what they're saying; let them feel that you know what to say.
Yes, even when you want to go hunting, hear 'em out if it takes you all day.
"They'll drink every hour of the daylight and poach every hour of the dark.
It's the sport not the rabbits they're after (we've plenty of game in the park).
Don't hang them or cut off their fingers. That's wasteful as well as unkind,
For a hard-bitten, South-country poacher makes the best man-at-arms you can find.
"Appear with your wife and the children at their weddings and funerals and feasts.
Be polite but not friendly to Bishops; be good to all poor parish priests.
Say 'we,' 'us' and 'ours' when you're talking, instead of 'you fellows' and 'I.'
Don't ride over seeds; keep your temper; and never you tell 'em a lie!"
...
Even yet we Saxons are men of immense violent capacity who, above all, despite being rough men, are loath to harm women and lesser males.
This noble reluctance—the very marrow of our protective strength, our instinct to shield the vulnerable and uphold ordered peace—has become the rent-seekers’ most potent weapon. Through passive-aggressive abuse, demographic swamping, and the calculated inversion of our virtues, they own us in our own lands. If we're to survive and restore ourselves, we must accept this truth: our greatest strength has been turned into our most destructive weakness.
To preserve our people, our families, and our inheritance for the generations yet unborn, we will have to set this reticence to harm women and the lesser aside when the hour demands, rise with cold Saxon Hate, and do what must be done—no matter how bitter and brutal the necessity.
