991
In the evil days of King Ethelred the Unready, when the teaching of good
King Alfred was fast fading away from the minds of his descendants, and
self-indulgence was ruining the bold and hardy habits of the English,
the fleet was allowed to fall into decay, and Danish ships again
ventured to appear on the English coasts.
The first Northmen who had ravaged England came eager for blood and
plunder, and hating the sight of a Christian church as an insult to
their gods, Thor and Odin; but the lapse of a hundred years had in some
degree changed the temper of the North; and though almost every young
man thought it due to his fame to have sailed forth as a sea rover, yet
the attacks of these marauders might be bought off, and provided they
had treasure to show for their voyage, they were willing to spare the
lives and lands of the people of the coasts they visited.
King Ethelred and his cowardly, selfish Court were well satisfied with
this expedient, and the tax called Danegeld was laid upon the people, in
order to raise a fund for buying off the enemy. But there were still in
England men of bolder and truer hearts, who held that bribery was false
policy, merely inviting the enemy to come again and again, and that the
only wise course would be in driving them back by English valor, and
keeping the fleet in a condition to repel the 'Long Serpent' ships
before the foe could set foot upon the coast.
Among those who held this opinion was Brythnoth, Earl of Essex. He was
of partly Danish descent himself, but had become a thorough Englishman,
and had long and faithfully served the King and his father. He was a
friend to the clergy, a founder of churches and convents, and his
manor house of Hadleigh was a home of hospitality and charity. It would
probably be a sort of huge farmyard, full of great barn-like buildings
and sheds, all one story high; some of them serving for storehouses,
and others for living-rooms and places of entertainment for his numerous
servants and retainers, and for the guests of all degrees who gathered
round him as the chief dispenser of justice in his East-Saxon earldom.
When he heard the advice given and accepted that the Danes should be
bribed, instead of being fought with, he made up his mind that he, at
least, would try to raise up a nobler spirit, and, at the sacrifice of
his own life, would show the effect of making a manful stand against
them.
He made his will, and placed it in the hands of the Archbishop of
Canterbury; and then, retiring to Hadleigh, he provided horses and arms,
and caused all the young men in his earldom to be trained in warlike
exercises, according to the good old English law, that every man should
be provided with weapons and know the use of them.
The Danes sailed forth, in the year 991, with ninety-three vessels, the
terrible 'Long Serpents', carved with snakes' heads at the prow, and
the stern finished as the gilded tail of the reptile; and many a lesser
ship, meant for carrying plunder. The Sea King, Olaf (or Anlaff), was
the leader; and as tidings came that their sails had been seen upon the
North Sea, more earnest than ever rang out the petition in the Litany,
'From the fury of the Northmen, good Lord, deliver us'.
Sandwich and Ipswich made no defense, and were plundered; and the fleet
then sailed into the mouth of the River Blackwater, as far as Maldon,
where the ravagers landed, and began to collect spoil. When, however,
they came back to their ships, they found that the tide would not yet
serve them to re-embark; and upon the farther bank of the river bristled
the spears of a body of warriors, drawn up in battle array, but in
numbers far inferior to their own.
Anlaff sent a messenger, over the wooden bridge that crossed the river,
to the Earl, who, he understood, commanded this small army. The brave
old man, his grey hair hanging down beneath his helmet, stood, sword in
hand, at the head of his warriors.
'Lord Earl,' said the messenger, 'I come to bid thee to yield to us thy
treasure, for thy safety. Buy off the fight, and we will ratify a peace
with gold.'
'Hear, O thou sailor!' was Brythnoth's answer, 'the reply of this
people. Instead of Danegeld, thou shalt have from them the edge of the
sword, and the point of the spear. Here stands an English Earl, who will
defend his earldom and the lands of his King. Point and edge shall judge
between us.'
Back went the Dane with his message to Anlaff, and the fight began
around the bridge, where the Danes long strove to force their way
across, but were always driven back by the gallant East-Saxons. The tide
had risen, and for some time the two armies only shot at one another
with bows and arrows; but when it ebbed, leaving the salt-marches dry,
the stout old Earl's love of fair play overpowered his prudence, and he
sent to offer the enemy a free passage, and an open field in which to
measure their strength.
The numbers were too unequal; but the battle was long and bloody before
the English could be overpowered. Brythnoth slew one of the chief Danish
leaders with his own hand, but not without receiving a wound. He was
still able to fight on, though with ebbing strength and failing numbers.
His hand was pierced by a dart; but a young boy at his side instantly
withdrew it, and, launching it back again, slew the foe who had aimed
it. Another Dane, seeing the Earl faint and sinking, advanced to plunder
him of his ring and jeweled weapons; but he still had strength to lay
the spoiler low with his battleaxe. This was his last blow; he gathered
his strength for one last cheer to his brave men, and then, sinking on
the ground, he looked up to heaven, exclaiming: 'I thank thee, Lord of
nations, for all the joys I have known on earth. Now, O mild Creator!
have I the utmost need that Thou shouldst grant grace unto my soul, that
my spirit may speed to Thee with peace, O King of angels! to pass into
thy keeping. I sue to Thee that Thou suffer not the rebel spirits of
hell to vex my parting soul!'
With these words he died; but an aged follower, of like spirit, stood
over his corpse, and exhorted his fellows. 'Our spirit shall be the
hardier, and our soul the greater, the fewer our numbers become!' he
cried. 'Here lies our chief, the brave, the good, the much-loved lord,
who has blessed us with many a gift. Old as I am, I will not yield, but
avenge his death, or lay me at his side. Shame befall him that thinks to
fly from such a field as this!'
Nor did the English warriors fly. Night came down, at last, upon the
battlefield, and saved the lives of the few survivors; but they were
forced to leave the body of their lord, and the Danes bore away with
them his head as a trophy, and with it, alas! ten thousand pounds of
silver from the King, who, in his sluggishness and weakness had left
Brythnoth to fight and die unaided for the cause of the whole nation.
One of the retainers, a minstrel in the happy old days of Hadleigh, who
had done his part manfully in the battle, had heard these last goodly
sayings of his master, and, living on to peaceful days, loved to
rehearse them to the sound of his harp, and dwell on the glories of one
who could die, but not be defeated.
Ere those better days had come, another faithful-hearted Englishman had
given his life for his people. In the year 1012, a huge army, called
from their leader, 'Thorkill's Host', were overrunning Kent, and
besieging Canterbury. The Archbishop Aelfeg was earnestly entreated to
leave the city while yet there was time to escape; but he replied,
'None but a hireling would leave his flock in time of danger;' and he
supported the resolution of the inhabitants, so that they held out
the city for twenty days; and as the wild Danes had very little chance
against a well-walled town, they would probably have saved it, had not
the gates been secretly opened to them by the traitorous Abbot Aelfman,
whom Aelfeg had once himself saved, when accused of treason before the
King.
The Danes slaughtered all whom they found in the streets, and the
Archbishop's friends tried to keep him in the church, lest he should
run upon his fate; but he broke from them, and, confronting the enemy,
cried: 'Spare the guiltless! Is there glory in shedding such blood? Turn
your wrath on me! It is I who have denounced your cruelty, have ransomed
and re-clad your captive.' The Danes seized upon him, and, after he had
seen his cathedral burnt and his clergy slain, they threw him into a
dungeon, whence he was told he could only come forth upon the payment of
a heavy ransom.
His flock loved him, and would have striven to raise the sum; but,
miserably used as they were by the enemy, and stripped by the exactions
of the Danes, he would not consent that they should be asked for a
further contribution on his account. After seven months' patience in his
captivity, the Danish chiefs, who were then at Greenwich desired him
to be brought into their camp, where they had just been holding a great
feast. It was Easter Eve, and the quiet of that day of calm waiting
was disturbed with their songs, and shouts of drunken revelry, as the
chained Archbishop was led to the open space where the warriors sat and
lay amid the remains of their rude repast. The leader then told him that
they had agreed to let him off for his own share with a much smaller
payment than had been demanded, provided he would obtain a largesse for
them from the King, his master.
'I am not the man,' he answered, 'to provide Christian flesh for Pagan
wolves;' and when again they repeated the demand, 'Gold I have none to
offer you, save the true wisdom of the knowledge of the living God.' And
he began, as he stood in the midst, to 'reason to them of righteousness,
temperance, and judgment to come.'
They were mad with rage and drink. The old man's voice was drowned with
shouts of 'Gold, Bishop--give us gold!' The bones and cups that lay
around were hurled at him, and he fell to the ground, with the cry, 'O
Chief Shepherd, guard Thine own children!' As he partly raised himself,
axes were thrown at him; and, at last, a Dane, who had begun to love and
listen to him in his captivity, deemed it mercy to give him a deathblow
with an axe. The English maintained that Aelfeg had died to save his
flock from cruel extortion, and held him as a saint and martyr, keeping
his death day (the 19th of April) as a holiday; and when the Italian
Archbishop of Canterbury (Lanfranc) disputed his right to be so
esteemed, there was strong opposition and discontent. Indeed, our
own Prayer Book still retains his name, under the altered form of St.
Alphege; and surely no one better merits to be remembered, for having
loved his people far better than himself.