CHAPTER XXIII.

CHARACTER OF ALFRED THE GREAT.

"Hear him but reason on divinity,

And, all-admiring, with an inward wish,

You would desire the king were made a prelate;

Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,

You would say--it hath been all-in-all his study:

List his discourse of war, and you shall hear

A fearful battle rendered you in music."

SHAKSPERE.

We have seen the shadow of this great king pass, through the clouds of

sorrow and suffering, into the glory and immortality which still shed

their lustre around his memory, after the darkness of nearly a thousand

winters has gathered and passed over his grave. Even the gloomy gates

of death could not extinguish, in the volumed blackness they enclose,

the trailing splendour which accompanied his setting, without leaving

behind a summer twilight, over a land where before there was nothing

but darkness to mark the departing day. Upon a sky dim, and unsprinkled

with the golden letters of light, Alfred first rose, the evening star

of English history. From his first appearance a brightness marked his

course; even in the morning of life, he "flamed upon the forehead of

the sky." Instead of the dull, cold, leaden grey, which announced the

appearance of other kings, his crowned head broke the stormy rack, in

a true splendour that befitted such majesty, and though dimmed for

awhile, every observant eye could see that it was the sun which hung

behind the clouds.

In childhood, long before his step-mother, Judith, had taught him to

read, his chief delight was in committing to memory the poems which

the Saxon bards chaunted in his father's court; and who can doubt

but that many a wandering minstrel descended from the ancient Cymry,

struck his harp within the Saxon halls, and made the boyish heart of

Alfred thrill again, as he heard the praises of those early British

heroes sung, whose bare breasts and sharp swords were the bold bulwarks

that so long withstood the mailed legions which the haughty emperor

of Rome had sent, swarming over our own island shores. In this rude

school was Alfred first taught that the names of the good, the great,

and the brave can never die; that valour and virtue were immortal;

and he resolved to emulate the deeds of those whose memories time can

never obliterate; by whose names we number the footsteps of eternity,

when marble and monumental brass have crumbled into dust. It was at

the Castaly of the Muses, which then but trickled from a rude, grey

Saxon font, where Alfred first drank in the draught that gave him

immortality. Eager for knowledge, he looked around in vain for any one

to instruct him; he had not a clergyman about him who could translate

the prayers he read in Latin, into Saxon; until poor old Asser came

from Wales, he could not find in his whole court a scholar equal to

himself. His nobles could hunt and fight; his brothers could do no

more: they lived and died, and their names would never have been

remembered had they not chanced to have been kings. The mind of Alfred

was fashioned in another mould; accident had made him a king, and he

resolved to become a man, to think and act worthy of a being who bore

on his brow God's image--to be something more than the mere heir to

a hollow crown and the lands of Wessex; so he threw aside his sword,

which he knew a thousand arms could wield as well as his own, and took

up his pen. He was the first Saxon king who attempted to conquer his

enemies without killing them--who offered them bread instead of the

sword. He was much wiser than many legislators in our own enlightened

times. He gave Godwin and his Danes land and seed, bade them work,

and live honestly and peacefully; they had felt the weight of his arm

before-time, and, for a long period after, they disturbed not his

study again. What benefit was it to Alfred to whiten with human bones

a land which he knew it would be better to cultivate?--there was room

enough for them all, so he sat down again to enrich his own mind. We

can readily imagine that he never took up his sword without a feeling

of reluctance--that he thought a man could not be worse employed than

in slaying his fellow men. Alfred was England's earliest reformer. When

his nobles found that he had determined to find them no more fighting,

they took to reading and writing, for time hung heavily upon their

hands. He then allowed them to share in his councils, and they began

to make laws for the living, instead of slaying, and then fixing a

price to be paid to the kindred of the dead for the murder they had

committed.

A lingering and painful disease, which had for years baffled the skill

of all his physicians--the constant inroads of the northmen, who were

ever keeping the country in a state of alarm--a dearth of kindred

spirits to cheer him in his intellectual labours--prevented not the

persevering king from struggling onward, in his toilsome journey, in

search of knowledge and truth. Bede, with the exception of a single

poem, had composed all his works in Latin; and, with scarcely an

exception, there was no production of any merit that Alfred could

obtain, at that period, but what was written in the same language; and

when he looked round amongst all the thousands he ruled over, not one

could be found, until Asser appeared, who was capable of instructing

him, or who could translate into the Saxon tongue the knowledge for

which he thirsted. He sent in quest of literary men to Rome, to France,

to Ireland; wherever they could be found, he despatched messengers

with presents to intreat and tempt them to visit his court. When

they arrived, he made them equals and friends--he promoted them to

the highest offices in his government--he valued them higher than

all his treasures of gold and silver--by day and night they were his

inseparable companions. He listened to the passages they translated,

stopped them from time to time, and made notes of the most striking

thoughts, and, in an after day, in numerous instances, he extended the

crude ideas of the ancient writers, and threw in a thousand beautiful

illustrations of his own, and such as were never dreamed of by the

original authors; they reflect his own thoughts and feelings; and while

we peruse them we know that we are drinking in the wisdom of Alfred.

In his translation of Orosius he made a great portion of the geography

and history of the world, as it was then understood, familiar to his

countrymen; by his translation of Bede he gave them an insight into

the records of their own land, and showed his nobles how indifferently

their predecessors had conducted the government. By his Boethius he

instilled into their minds many moral axioms, imparted to them his own

thoughts and feelings, and slowly raised them to that high intellectual

station to which he had, by his own exertions, attained; for though he

still ever soared high above them, yet there were eminences up which

they never could have climbed unless by his aid. He found his nobles

but little better than the northern barbarians, and he left them wise

and thinking men. He made a green and flowery place of what had been

before but a wide and weedy wilderness. He divided his attendants into

three bodies, and when one party had served him a month, they returned

home, and were succeeded by another; for it was not in the nature of

Alfred to compel any of his attendants to neglect their own private

affairs while serving him. By this means he but claimed their services

during four months in the year, the remainder of the time they were

allowed to dedicate to their own domestic matters. He divided his

income into separate portions, appropriating each part to a particular

purpose--first, he allotted a portion to his warriors and attendants;

the next allotment was expended in building, in the improvement of

which he collected many eminent architects from different nations; the

third he expended in the relief of foreigners; no matter from what

country they came, they left not the court of Alfred empty-handed: the

remainder of his revenue was dedicated to religious purposes, to the

support of the monasteries he had built, the schools he had erected,

and of the various churches throughout the whole of the dominions. Out

of this division the larger portion was religiously dedicated to the

relief of the poor. Not only his treasures, but his time, was also

equally divided; he but allowed one-third for rest and retirement, and

within it scrupulously included the whole that he thought necessary

to be consumed in partaking of his meals. The second eight hours he

devoted wholly to the affairs of his kingdom, to the meeting of his

council, to the assembling of his witena-gemot, audiences, plans of

protection for the repelling of invasions, and for the better working

of the great machinery which he had set in motion to better the

condition of his subjects and weaken the power of his enemies. The

remaining third of his time he appropriated to study and his religious

duties. It was in this division, doubtless the happiest of all, that

Asser and Grimbald read and translated while he listened, and in the

little note-book which Asser had made him, he put down such thoughts

as made the greatest impression on his mind. Alfred had neither clock

nor chronometer with which to measure out the hours, only the sun and

moving shadow by which he could mete out time, and they could neither

guide him on the dull, cloudy day, nor the dark night. To overcome this

difficulty, and mark the divisions of the twenty-four hours, he had

wax candles made, twelve inches in length, each of which was marked

at equal distances, and although the time taken up in replacing and

re-lighting them would scarcely serve to mark accurately the lapse of

minutes, yet they were so equally made, that six of them, with but

little variation, used in succession, lasted out the twenty-four hours.

To guard against the casualties of winds and draughts, he inclosed his

candles in thin, white, transparent horn, and this result led to the

invention of lanterns; and thus he measured time, which to him was the

most valuable of all earthly treasures, for he considered his life as

a trust held for the benefit of his people; and the knowledge which

he himself accumulated he felt it a sacred duty to impart to others.

From what was then considered the remotest corners of the earth, he

despatched emissaries to gather information; he sent an embassy to

India, and had messengers continually passing to and from Rome. The

Danes, whom he had permitted to settle down peaceably in his dominions,

he placed upon the same footing as the Saxons, giving to them equal

laws, and punishing the criminals of both nations with the same

impartial rigour, which many historians have considered to be somewhat

too severe. Justice was then but little understood; and when the

judges came to such decisions as Alfred considered unfair to the party

injured, he occupied the tribunal, and had the matter brought before

him, and according to his own judgment decided the case. He caused one

of his own judges, named Cadwine, to be hanged, for having condemned a

man to death without the consent of the whole jury. Freberne he also

ordered to be executed, for sentencing one Harpin to suffer death, when

the jury were undecided in their verdict; for when there was a doubt,

Alfred concluded it was but just to save the accused. He would neither

permit the jury to return an unjust verdict, nor the judge to influence

their decision; but where there was doubt and difficulty to contend

against, he brought the whole weight of his own clear, unbiassed

intellect to bear upon the subject.

Without breaking down the warlike spirit of the people, he by a

salutary law checked the thirst of personal revenge, permitting no man

to slay his enemy in secret, not even if he knew that that enemy was

seated at home beside his own hearth, he was not allowed to fight with

him until he had publicly demanded redress. If the body of a murdered

man was found, the penalty, which, considering the value of money in

those times, was heavy, fell upon the whole hundred or tything in

which the dead body was discovered. By this means, the innocent had

the powerful motive of self-interest to induce them to give up the

murderer. Rude and primitive as such a system may at first appear,

these laws were well adapted to the spirit of the barbarous age in

which he lived, when a pagan Dane considered it a meritorious work

to slay a Saxon Christian, and the latter thought that he was doing

Heaven service when he sent the spoiler of its monasteries, and the

slayer of its priests, to revel in the halls of the blood-stained

gods he worshipped. Elders were appointed over each hundred, and were

answerable for the conduct of all who belonged to them. If a crime

was committed, the roll was called over, and suspicion naturally fell

upon the missing man who had fled. No other hundred could register his

name until he had dwelt a given time amongst them; and through this

strict system of espionage, pardonable only in such turbulent times,

the land, as it were, was engirded with a continuous chain, not a link

of which could be broken without the gap becoming visible. Alfred not

only introduced the decalogue into his laws, but so adapted the Mosaic

code to the habits of the age in which he lived, as to render it as

effective amongst the Anglo-Saxons as it had been with the Israelites

of old. His witena-gemot, or assembly of nobles, or parliament, or

by whatever name we choose to designate the council of the land, was

called upon to give its consent to these enactments, before they

were put into operation, and such clauses as it objected to, Alfred

blotted out from his Dom-boc. He first drew the bold outline of our

present mode of government; and limned with his hand, though rudely,

the grand form of our glorious constitution. He was proverbially known

amongst his subjects by the title of the "Truth-teller;" and it was a

saying during his reign, that golden bracelets might be hung upon the

landmarks beside the common highways without a fear of their removal,

such a vigorous watch did the law keep.

In the character of Alfred was embodied all the elements which the

poet, the dramatist, and the novelist attempt to throw around their

most perfect ideas of a hero. He was a warrior, a statesman, and a

scholar, and as perfect in each of these capacities as if he had spent

his whole life in the battle-field, had dedicated his days and nights

to law and politics, or been only a fond dreamer amongst books in the

flowery fields of literature. He would have taken the lead in any age

as the commander of an army; have either risen to the dignity of a

chancellor or a premier in civil government, or have stood first in

the high and ambitious rank of authorship. In him were beautifully

blended courage and tenderness, perseverance and patience; justice

which would have been stern, but for the softening quality of mercy,

high-mindedness, and humbleness, and, above all, a universal love for

his fellow men, not disfigured by the weak partiality of unworthy

favouritism. He found England in a state of despondency, raised and

cheered her, and then elevated her to a much higher station than that

from which she had fallen. But for Alfred the Great, England would have

been a desert, and never have recovered from the destructive fires and

desolating ravages of the Danes. His name will be revered until time

shall be no more.

History of the Anglo-Saxons, from the Earliest Period to the Norman Conquest Second Edition · 第 23 / 39 章