The Call for Help
It seemed, toward the close of the ninth century, that England
would gradually pass into the power of the Danes and cease to be
an independent country. They had established themselves not only
in Northumbria, but in East Anglia and parts of Mercia. We have to
think of England at this period not as one united kingdom, but as a
number of separate principalities, ruled by different kings. The most
powerful of these principalities was Mercia, which occupied the whole
central district of England, from Lincolnshire in the north to Oxford
and Buckingham in the south, and west to the borders of Wales. It was
governed by a king named Burhred, who found great difficulty in holding
his own against incursions from the Welsh on the one hand and from the
Danes of Northumbria on the other.[10]
In the south the kingdom of Wessex was coming into prominence. During
the reigns of Alfred and his brother, Edward the Elder, Wessex not only
held back the Danes from their tide of progress, but gave its kings to
the larger part of England. The kingdom of Wessex extended from Sussex
in the east to Devon in the west, and included our present counties
of Hants, Dorset, Somerset, Berks, and Wilts. It was from this small
district that the saviour of England was to come, who, by his courage,
perseverance, and wisdom, broke the power of the Danes and kept them
back from the conquest of the whole country, which at one time seemed
so probable. This saviour of England was Alfred the Great.
We know the history of Alfred intimately, for it was written for us
during the King’s lifetime by his teacher and friend, Asser, who tells
us that he came to Alfred “out of the furthest coasts of western
Britain.” He was Bishop of St David’s, in South Wales.
The account of his coming at Alfred’s request to give him instruction
and to act as his reader must be told in his own interesting words.
He tells us that at the command of the King, who had sent in many
directions, even as far as Gaul, for men of sound knowledge to give him
and his sons and people instruction, he had come from his western home
through many intervening provinces, and arrived at last in Sussex, the
country of the Saxons.
Here for the first time he saw Alfred, in the royal “vill” in which he
dwelt, and was received with kindness by the King, who eagerly entered
into conversation with him, and begged him to devote himself to his
service and become his friend. Indeed, so anxious was he to secure
Asser’s services, that he urged him then and there to resign his duties
in Wales and promise never to leave him again. He offered him in return
more than all he had left behind if he would stay with him. Asser nobly
replied that he could not suddenly give up those who were dependent on
his ministrations and permanently leave the country in which he had
been bred and where his duties lay; upon which the King replied: “If
you cannot accede to this, at least let me have part of your service;
stay with me here for six months and spend the other six months in the
West with your own people.” To this Asser, seeing the King so desirous
of his services, replied that he would return to his own country and
try to make the arrangement which Alfred desired; and from this time
there grew up a lifelong friendship between these two interesting men,
one learned, simple, and conscientious, the other eager for learning,
and bent upon applying all his wisdom for the benefit of the people
over whom he ruled.
From the life of Alfred, written by his master, we might imagine that
the chief part of the monarch’s time was devoted to learning and study.
“Night and day,” Asser tells us, “whenever he had leisure, he commanded
men of learning to read to him;” so that he became familiar with books
which he was himself unable to read. He loved poetry, and caused it to
be introduced into the teaching of the young. He with great labour (for
his own education had been sadly neglected) translated Latin works on
history and religion, so that his people might read them. He kept what
he called a “Manual” or “Handbook,” because he had it at hand day and
night, in which he wrote any passage they came upon in their reading
which especially struck his mind. Asser tells us in a charming way how
he began this custom. He says that they were sitting together in the
King’s chamber, talking, as usual, of all kinds of subjects, when it
happened that the master read to him a quotation out of a certain book.
“He listened to it attentively, with both his ears, and thoughtfully
drew out of his bosom a book wherein were written the daily psalms and
prayers which he had read in his youth, and he asked me to write the
quotation in that book. But I could not find any empty space in that
book wherein to write the quotation, for it was already full of various
matters. Upon his urging me to make haste and write it at once, I said
to him: ‘Would you wish me to write the quotation on a separate sheet?
For it is possible that we may find one or more other extracts which
will please you; and if this should happen, we shall be glad that we
have kept them apart.’
“‘Your plan is good,’ he said; and I gladly made haste to get ready a
fresh sheet, in the beginning of which I wrote what he bade me. And on
the same day, as I had anticipated, I wrote therein no less than three
other quotations which pleased him, so that the sheet soon became full.
He continued to collect these words of the great writers, until his
book became almost as large as a psalter, and he found, as he told me,
no small consolation therein.”
But, studious as was naturally the mind of Alfred, only a small portion
of his life, and that chiefly when he became aged, could be given to
learning. His career lay in paths of turmoil and war, and his earlier
days were spent in camps and among the practical affairs of a small
but important kingdom. Already as a child of eight or ten he had heard
of battles and rumours of war all around him. He heard of “the heathen
men,” as the Danes were called, making advances in the Isle of Wight,
at Canterbury and London, and creeping up the Thames into new quarters
in Kent and Surrey. There his father, King Ethelwulf, and his elder
brothers had met and defeated them with great slaughter at Aclea, or
Ockley, “the Oak-plain,” and they returned home to Wessex with the news
of a complete victory. It was probably to keep his favourite child
out of the way of warfare and danger that Ethelwulf sent him twice
to Rome; the second time he himself accompanied him thither, and they
returned to find that one of Alfred’s elder brothers, Ethelbald, had
made a conspiracy against his own father, had seized the kingdom, and
would have prevented Ethelwulf from returning had he been able. But
the warm love of his people, who gathered round him, delighted at his
return, prevented this project from being carried into effect, and
the old man, desiring only peace in his family, divided the kingdom
between his two eldest sons; but on the death of Ethelbald, soon after,
Ethelbert joined the two divisions together, including Kent, Surrey,
and Sussex in the same kingdom with Wessex. When Alfred was eighteen
years of age this brother also died, and for five years more a third
brother, Ethelred, sat on the throne of Wessex.
[Illustration: _Alfred at Ashdune_]
It was at this time, when Alfred was growing up to manhood, that the
troubles in Northumbria of which we have already given an account
took place. The reign of Ælla, and his horrible death at the hands of
Lodbrog’s sons, was followed by the advance of the pagan army into
Mercia, and it was here that Alfred came for the first, time face to
face with the enemy against whom much of his life was to be spent in
conflict. Burhred, King of the Mercians, sent to Ethelred and Alfred
to beg their assistance against the pagan army. They immediately
responded by marching to Nottingham with a large host, all eager to
fight the Danes; but the pagans, shut up safely within the walls of
the castle, declined to fight, and in the end a peace was patched up
between the Danes and the Mercians, and the two Wessex princes returned
home without a battle. It was not long, however, before the army was
needed again; for, three years later, in the year 871, when Alfred
was twenty-three years of age, “the army of the Danes of hateful
memory,” as Asser calls it, entered Wessex itself, coming up from East
Anglia, where they had wintered. After attacking the then royal city of
Reading, on the Thames, they entrenched themselves on the right of the
town. Ethelred was not able to come up with them at so short notice,
but the Earl of Berkshire, gathering a large army, attacked them in the
rear at Englefield Green, and defeated them, many of them taking to
flight. Four days afterwards the two princes of Wessex, Ethelred and
Alfred, came up, and soon cut to pieces the Danes that were defending
the city outside; but those Danes who had shut themselves in the city
sallied out of the gates, and after a long and hot encounter the army
of Wessex fled, the brave Earl of Berkshire being among the slain.
Roused by this disaster, the armies of Wessex, in shame and
indignation, collected their whole strength, and within four days they
were ready again to give battle to the Danes at Ashdune (Aston), “the
Hill of the Ash,” in the same county. They found the Danes drawn up
in two divisions, occupying high ground; while the army of Wessex was
forced to attack from below. Both parties began to throw up defences,
and the Danes were pressing forward to the attack; but Alfred, who
was waiting for the signal to begin the battle, found that his elder
brother, Ethelred, was nowhere to be seen. He sent to inquire where
he was, and learned that he was hearing mass in his tent, nor would
he allow the service to be interrupted or leave his prayers till all
was finished. It had been arranged that Alfred with his troops should
attack the smaller bodies of the Danes, while Ethelred, who was to
lead the centre, took the general command; but the enemy were pushing
forward with such eagerness that Alfred, having waited as long as he
dared for his brother, was forced at length to give the signal for
a general advance. He bravely led the whole army forward in a close
phalanx, without waiting for the King’s arrival, and a furious battle
took place, concentrating chiefly around a stunted thorn-tree, standing
alone, which, Asser tells us, he had seen with his own eyes on the spot
where the battle was fought. A great defeat was inflicted on the Danes;
one of their kings and five of their earls were killed, and the plain
of Ashdune was covered with the dead bodies of the slain. The whole
of that night the pagans fled, closely followed by the victorious men
of Wessex, until weariness and the darkness of the night brought the
conflict to an end.