_How the Men of Wessex fought the Danes_
Right heartily did Alfred welcome Wulnoth after he had heard his story,
and warm were the words of praise which he spoke of Wahrmund the Dane;
and of him he said these words--
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for
his friend." And when Wulnoth heard that he answered--
"Now, that is a true word and a wise, O Prince. What great scald or
redesman uttered that?"
"The greatest Scald and the greatest Redesman that ever this world saw,
O friend," answered the Prince. "That is one of the sayings of the Lord
Jesus."
"Now," said Wulnoth, "I cannot understand, but everything good and true
seems to come from Him--"
"Whom thou thinkest a nithing, O friend," answered the Atheling. And
Wulnoth was silenced.
And with the Atheling there tarried his mother Osburga, the wife of
the noble Ethelwulf--a gracious lady, so full of sympathy and wisdom,
with mild, beautiful eyes that yet had a light in them as of a sorrow
never forgotten; for grief had been hers, though she was a king's wife
and the mother of kings.
Here also was Asser, the writer, and Alfred's bosom friend, and
Ealdorman Ethelred, and Osric, both mighty warriors and great heroes,
and with them Abbot Hugoline, and Bishop Eadred; and these wise ones
talked much of holy things, and Wulnoth listened and learnt much, and
asked many questions.
And best of all, while he tarried with the Prince there came Wyborga
and Edgiva, together with holy women from the church on the island,
saying that they had fled because the Danes were moving and pressing
forward into Wessex, carrying fire and sword with them.
Sweet were the moments which Wulnoth spent with his Princess, yet brief
were they, for there was much work to do, and he and his companions,
the fifty nameless men, were busy marching hither and thither, and
calling on all the men in the place to take their arms and gather at
the King's command beneath the banner of the Atheling.
Every day there were martial exercises, and those who were least
skilled with the bow or at casting the spear had to work from morning
until night; for, as Alfred said to them, "They needed to be men who
could slay--not men who were ready to be slain only."
Now between the Atheling and all his soldiers, even to the lowest, was
there friendship, and not one but could be sure of being received and
listened to did he wish to speak to his Prince. And each day more and
more men came in, and the forces under the Prince's command grew larger.
But one day did Alfred speak with Wulnoth, and he said to him--
"Wanderer, not only brave men and skilled warriors do we need to defeat
these Danes. We need what they have, and what our fathers on the other
side of the sea had--good ships, stout ships, long ships that can match
the best of theirs. Upon the sea must we learn to meet them and so keep
the fire from our land."
"Why indeed, Prince, that is the very word which my comrade Wahrmund
spake to me upon the day on which we first sighted these shores--'Not
till they learn to fight us upon the sea shall they hope to beat us.'"
"He spoke a true word," replied the Prince thoughtfully, "and if God
spare me I will see that this England of ours has such ships--the best
that can be built. I will see that since the seas wash our shores, of
those seas shall she reign mistress."
Such was Alfred's vow, and afterwards, when he was king, in face of
such difficulties as might have well appalled the stoutest heart, he
kept his word and built his ships, and beat the Danes at their own game
upon the deep waters.
But that is not for now--now we have to tell how that first battle was
waged against the Black Strangers, in which they were to learn that
there were other swords as sharp as their own and other hearts as brave.
For messenger came after messenger, speeding to Alfred and saying that
unless he advanced to meet the foe they would penetrate to Winchester
itself, where the King's house was. So Alfred sent messages to the
King, urging him to come and lead the battle in person lest the glory
should be taken from him. For Alfred, though he was wiser and braver
than his elder brother, never forgot that brother was his king, and in
all things he honored him and gave him willing service.
So King Ethelred marched, and all his host with him, and they joined
forces with the Atheling where he tarried; and the Lady Osburga, and
Elswitha, Alfred's wife, and the Lady Edgiva, and all their train,
retired with a small guard towards Winchester, for though they were
brave enough to face the perils of war, their presence would have but
hindered the army, and given increased cause for care to its leaders.
Sad was the parting, and yet joyful, for these brave Saxon ladies
cheered the warriors and urged them to great deeds, and sang to them
songs of how they were going to free their dear England from the power
of the oppressor. And then, with many prayers and with smiling lips
and tearful eyes, they parted and went their way, while the King and
the Atheling caused their banners to be displayed and marched to the
eastward to meet the Danes under Hungwar and King Bacseg.
For tidings came that Hubba and Biorn Ironbeard, and others had gone
northward; and Guthrun stayed at the old camp, awaiting the return of
the ships, for since the matter of Wulnoth and the killing of Wahrmund
there had been quarrels amongst the holdas, and they parted one from
the other.
Still, it was the main force that was now advancing into Wessex, and
many were the chiefs of fame accompanying it.
The Saxon force was nothing like as numerous, but so great was the
charm of Alfred that all there held together, forgetting their private
quarrels and seeking only each to aid the great business of making the
land free once more.
The King had seen Wulnoth and had greeted him well, and though he did
look askance at the nameless ones, he was glad of their presence, and
he said with a laugh that since Wulnoth had brought them, Wulnoth
must be responsible for them; and so, while their own captain led
them, Wulnoth was their commander; and because he himself was nameless
and landless, the robbers greeted him well and obeyed his wishes, as
otherwise they would not have done.
And they marched past the dreaded Welandes Smithan, and the Atheling
himself pointed out the spot to Wulnoth and showed him the great flat
stone on which the silver penny must be laid, and he said that none
could tell by what power the shoeing was done, but that the body of the
Wise Wieland lay at rest beneath those stones.
And other strange piles of stones they found on their march, each of
which had some dreadful legend of ghost or elfin power attached to it,
but which, in these days, we know to be only the tombs of a strange
people long since past away. And so, at last, they came to a place
called Ashdune, a wide sweeping plain, with but one single tree in it,
and that tree a great straggling thorn bush, growing nigh the centre.
And there, on the verge of the plain, they encamped for the night, and
on the opposite side they could see the watch fires of the invaders,
and count their banners waving to the wind.
Wild were the shouts from the Danish camp that night, for the holdas
drank deeply, as was their custom, and they called out the names of
their dead heroes, and the songs were sung in their honor by the scalds
as the warriors drank to the war game and the sword song, and vowed
that with the rising of the sun they would make an end of the men of
Wessex, and lay the land low in fire.
Such was the way in which Wulnoth had been wont to spend the night
before the battle, but in the camp of the Saxons it was not so.
Sparingly the soldiers drank, and the Atheling took nothing but water;
and while watch was kept the Abbot Hugoline came amongst the ranks and
prayed, and the men knelt and crossed their hands upon their breasts,
and the monks sang to Him Whom they called "The Lord God, great and
terrible, and mighty in battle"; and that made Wulnoth the more
perplexed, for he saw not how the gentle Lord Christ could be terrible
in battle.
And then did he see Bishop Eadred all girt in armor, and with a mighty
mace in his hand, and thereat he wondered more than ever, for he had
not thought to see a priest armed to fight like a warrior.
But the Bishop laughed and said, "Who should fight for the Church but
those who are her most loving servants? Who should fight for the sheep
against the ravening wolves but those who are set over the flock as
shepherds?" And Wulnoth said to himself that this Bishop was a man, and
that he saw the service of the White Christ did not make a man become a
nithing.
And also he looked at the Prince, and the Atheling looked mighty in his
war gear. Usually he looked pale, seeing that he had a sickness which
forever kept him in pain; but now all thought of pain was gone, and he
laughed right joyously as he looked abroad at the field whereon the
battle would be waged, and he said--
"Now, truly, this is a sight for the heart of any warrior, and great
deeds will be done to-day, and yonder heathen foe will be valiant. Yet
remember, soldiers, that we fight for much--not for life only, but for
freedom, for our hearths and families, for our wives, our sisters, our
mothers, and daughters. Strike for them a good blow and true, and never
let it be said of one 'This man was a nithing.' See yonder"--and he
pointed across the plain--"see, there waves the magic banner of Regner
Lodbrok--there the raven of Odin flaunts his wings. But here is the
sign of the Lord," and he pointed to the cross which a priest held,
"and we will see which is mightier this day--Odin or our Lord."
"Now," thought Wulnoth, "that is a sign, and we will see, for truly the
foe is the greater and should beat us, for there are many holdas of
fame there. Well, we may see, and may I come near to Hungwar, Regner's
son, this day."
Then did the war-horns blare and shriek, and the armies moved forward.
And first the bowmen sent their arrows hissing like hail, and many a
barbed shaft bit deeply and drank its fill of the red blood, but the
warriors held their shields and caught the arrows thereon, and laughed,
and no nithing was found in the ranks of either side.
Then, as they drew nearer, the spears began to hurtle through the air
and join the arrows, and the Valkyrs--those grim storm sisters who love
the battlefield and who wait to carry the souls of the heroes to the
storm-land--gathered, and floated above the field of slaughter, where
the thirsty earth already began to turn red as the victims fell.
But this was but the beginning--the game was hardly started--the
fierce, mad sport was to come later.
For now, sweeping forward, came ranks of champions armed with axe, with
sword, and shield, and they ran to meet each other, and the strokes
fell like hail, and the pikes gored like the horns of angry bulls.
Now Wulnoth had schooled his men, and they drew together in shape like
a wedge, with Wulnoth and the captain at the point of it; and so a long
line of shields linked each to each, a long line of axes rising and
falling, or swinging upwards from beneath, they drove into the heart of
the Danish ranks, and then, opening out, swept the vikings into a mass
of struggling disordered men, who hardly had room to move and who mixed
friend with foe in their fury.
Oh, great were the deeds done that day, and truly did the Atheling
behave like a hero in the fight as he led his men, crying
encouragement, pressing wherever the game was the hottest, and seeming
to be in a score of places at once.
And bravely fought the King, and he singled out the great Danish
champion, King Bacseg, and he called to him and said--
"Greeting, King! I would fain talk with thee." And thereat did the Dane
laugh and answer--
"Greeting! Blithely will I listen to thy talk."
Then these twain fell to, and they smote each other lusty blows and
made their swords sing a loud song; yet the King of Wessex was the
mightier in the conflict, and he smote King Bacseg to the ground, and
smote yet again, crying--
"Die, thou fell pirate of Denmark! Die, and let this good English soil
find thee a resting-place."
Now, this took place nigh to the thorn bush, and there was a rush of
the Danes to rescue the body of their dead King, so that King Ethelred
was borne backward, and was like to have been slain himself but that
Wulnoth and his fifty came sweeping down, and formed a wall between
the King and the foe.
Then thither hastened all the mighty ones of both sides. There stood
Bishop Eadred, and his mace dripped with Danish blood; and there stood
Ethelred the Ealdorman, and Osric; and there, against them, as the
waves rush against the rocks, came the heroes of Denmark. There came
Sidroc the elder, and his son; there came Osbern and Frena; there also
came Oskettle and Harold, and not one of them but had made his name a
terror, and had carried fire and sword to many a fair spot; and now
they came raging towards the spot where the body of King Bacseg lay,
crying for vengeance against his slayer.
And thither also came Hungwar, foaming like a bear and rolling his
angry eyes, and behind him rose the banner of Regner. And when Wulnoth
saw him he cried aloud--
"Ho, tarry, thou Danish pirate, thou killer of children. For now I
will give thee such a greeting as thou hast never had before. I have
a message to thee from the dead King of Lethra, and from Wahrmund my
friend, and thou hast still the mark of my weapon upon thy face. Stay,
Hungwar! I call to thee to stay, as I called to Osbert in the days of
old!"
And Hungwar heard, and he raged like a berserker, but he came not to
Wulnoth, for in his heart he feared him more than all the warriors of
Wessex.
And now the fight went against the Danes, and Bishop Eadred smote
down Sidroc the elder, and Osric smote down Sidroc the younger and
Oskettle. And Ethelred the King, he smote Frena; and Alfred the
Atheling laid Osbern low.
And all around that thorn tree the dead lay piled high like unto a
wall, Saxon and Dane, still clutching each other in the last fierce
hand-grips of death. And the fighters were weary with slaughter and
the swords tired of their song. And then, for the first time in any
decisive battle since their landing, the Danes broke and retreated, and
Hungwar led them, galloping off on his war-horse and waving his arms as
if the evil spirit had entered into him. And so ended the battle, and
the Saxons were the masters of the field of slaughter.
And yet it was at great cost, for many were slain, and while the Danes
could bring a score for each one dead, the men of Wessex were few, and
the men of Mercia and Northumbria were jealous of them, and would have
joyed to see them beaten, and would not come to their aid.
So back went the King and the Atheling and their soldiers, and the
eagles and the crows gathered over the field of slaughter, and the wolf
howled for joy from the forest as he called his brethren to the feast,
smelling the blood from afar.
But Wulnoth looked to where, far away, he saw the Raven of Odin in
retreat, and he looked to the cross which the priests carried before
the army, and he remembered his words and felt that the White Christ
was the strongest, and that they who served Him were no nithings, when
it came to making the sword sing and playing the man's game.
Now, this is how the Danes were beaten by the Saxons of Wessex on the
field of slaughter which is called Ashdune, and this is how the Raven
of Odin fled from the sign of the White Christ.