The Dragon and The Raven: Or The Days of King Alfred

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Edmund was silent. The very possibility of a state of
things in which there should be no serfs, and when all men
should be free and equal, had never occurred to him; but he
had a deep respect for his father, who bore indeed the
reputation of being one of the wisest and most clear-headed of
the nobles of East Anglia, and it seemed to him that this
strange and novel doctrine contained much truth in it. Still
the idea was as strange to him as it would have been to the
son of a southern planter in America half a century ago. The
existence of slaves seemed as much a matter of course as that
of horses or dogs, and although he had been accustomed to
see from time to time freedom bestowed upon some favourite
serf as a special reward for services, the thought of a general
liberation of the slaves was strange and almost bewildering,
and he lay awake puzzling over the problem long after his
father and kinsman had fallen asleep.

CHAPTER II: THE BATTLE OF KESTEVEN

The following morning early the little party started.
The great chest was dug up from its place of concealment,
and they resumed their ordinary dresses. The ealdorman
attired himself in a white tunic with a broad purple
band round the lower edge, with a short cloak of green cloth.
This was fastened with a gold brooch at the neck; a necklet
of the same metal and several gold bracelets completed his
costume, except that he wore a flat cap and sandals. Edmund
had a green tunic and cloak of deep red colour; while Egbert
was dressed in yellow with a green cloak--the Saxons being
extremely fond of bright colours.

All wore daggers, whose sheaths were incrusted in silver,
in their belts, and the ealdorman and his kinsman carried
short broad-bladed swords, while Edmund had his boar-spear.
Eldred placed in the pouch which hung at his side a
bag containing a number of silver cubes cut from a long bar
and roughly stamped. The chest was then buried again in its
place of concealment among the bushes near the hut,
Edmund placed his bows and arrows in the boat--not that in
which Edmund had fished, but the much larger and heavier
craft which Eldred and Egbert had used--and then the party,
with the hound, took their places in it. The ealdorman and
Egbert were provided with long poles, and with these they
sent the little boat rapidly through the water.

After poling their way for some eight hours they reached
the town of Norwich, to which the Danes had not yet penetrated;
here, procuring what articles they needed, they proceeded on
their journey to Croyland, making a great circuit
to avoid the Danes at Thetford. The country was for the
most part covered with thick forests, where the wild boar
and deer roamed undisturbed by man, and where many wolves
still lurked, although the number in the country had been
greatly diminished by the energetic measures which King
Egbert had taken for the destruction of these beasts. Their
halting-places were for the most part at religious houses, which
then served the purpose of inns for travellers, being freely
opened to those whom necessity or pleasure might cause to
journey. Everywhere they found the monks in a state of alarm
at the progress of the Danes, who, wherever they went,
destroyed the churches and religious houses, and slew
the monks.

Eldred was everywhere received with marked honour;
being known as a wise and valiant noble, his opinions on the
chances of the situation were eagerly listened to, and he found
the monks at all their halting-places prepared, if need be, to
take up arms and fight the pagan invaders, as those of Mercia
and Wessex had done in the preceding autumn. The travellers,
on arriving at Croyland, were warmly welcomed.

"I heard, brother," the abbot said, "that you had bravely
fought against the Danes near Thetford, and have been sorely
anxious since the news came of the dispersal of your force."

"I have been in hiding," Eldred said, "hoping that a general
effort would be made against the invaders. My own power
was broken, since all my lands are in their hands. The people
of East Anglia foolishly seem to suppose that, so long as the
Danes remain quiet, the time has not come for action. They
will repent their lethargy some day, for, as the Danes gather
in strength, they will burst out over the surrounding country
as a dammed-up river breaks its banks. No, brother, I regard
East Anglia as lost so far as depends upon itself; its only hope
is in the men of Kent and Wessex, whom we must now look
upon as our champions, and who may yet stem the tide of
invasion and drive back the Danes. This abbey of yours stands
in a perilous position, being not far removed from the
Humber, where so many of the Danes find entrance to
England."

"It is not without danger, Eldred, but the men of the
fens are numerous, hardy and brave, and will offer a tough
resistance to any who may venture to march hitherward, and
if, as I hope, you will stay with us, and will undertake their
command, we may yet for a long time keep the Danes from
our doors."

For some weeks the time passed quietly. Edmund spent
most of his time in hunting, being generally accompanied by
Egbert. The Saxon was an exceedingly tall and powerful
man, slow and scanty of speech, who had earned for himself
the title of Egbert the Silent. He was devoted to his kinsmen
and regarded himself as special guardian of Edmund. He
had instructed him in the use of arms, and always accompanied
him when he went out to hunt the boar, standing ever
by his side to aid him to receive the rush of the wounded and
furious beasts; and more than once, when Edmund had been
borne down by their onslaughts, and would have been severely
wounded, if not killed, a sweeping blow of Egbert's
sword had rid him of his assailant.

Sometimes Edmund made excursions in the fens, where
with nets and snares he caught the fish which swarmed in
the sluggish waters; or, having covered his boat with a leafy
bower until it resembled a floating bush, drifted close to the
flocks of wild-fowl, and with his bow and arrows obtained
many a plump wild duck. Smaller birds were caught in snares
or traps, or with bird-lime smeared on twigs. Eldred seldom
joined his son in his hunting excursions, as he was busied
with his brother the abbot in concerting the measures of
defence and in organizing a band of messengers, who, on
the first warning of danger, could be despatched throughout
the fens to call in the fisher population to the defence of the
abbey.

It was on the 18th of September, 870, that a messenger
arrived at the abbey and craved instant speech with the prior.
The latter, who was closeted with his brother, ordered the
man to be admitted.

"I come," he said, "from Algar the ealdorman. He bids
me tell you that a great Danish host has landed from the
Humber at Lindsay. The rich monastery of Bardenay has
been pillaged and burned. Algar is assembling all the
inhabitants of the marsh lands to give them battle, and he prays
you to send what help you can spare, for assuredly they will
march hither should he be defeated."

"Return to the ealdorman," the abbot said; "tell him that
every lay brother and monk who can bear arms shall march
hence to join him under the command of lay brother Toley,
whose deeds of arms against the Danes in Mercia are well
known to him. My brother here, Eldred, will head all the
inhabitants of the marshes of this neighbourhood. With these
and the brothers of the abbey, in all, as I reckon, nigh four
hundred men, he will to-morrow march to join Algar."

Messengers were at once sent off through the surrounding
country bidding every man assemble on the morrow
morning at Croyland, and soon after daybreak they began to
arrive. Some were armed with swords, some with long sickles,
used in cutting rushes, tied to poles, some had fastened
long pieces of iron to oars to serve as pikes. They were a
rough and somewhat ragged throng, but Eldred saw with
satisfaction that they were a hard and sturdy set of men,
accustomed to fatigue and likely to stand firm in the hour
of battle.

Most of them carried shields made of platted osiers covered
with skin. The armoury of the abbey was well supplied,
and swords and axes were distributed among the worst armed
of the fenmen. Then, with but little order or regularity, but
with firm and cheerful countenances, as men determined to
win or die, the band moved off under Eldred's command,
followed by the contingent of the abbey, eighty strong, under
lay brother Toley.

A sturdy band were these monks, well fed and vigorous.
They knew that they had no mercy to expect from the Danes,
and, regarding them as pagans and enemies of their religion
as well as of their country, could be trusted to do their
utmost. Late that evening they joined Algar at the place they
had appointed, and found that a large number of the people
of the marshes had gathered round his banner.

The Danes had not moved as yet from Bardenay, and
Algar determined to wait for another day or two before
advancing, in order to give time to others farther from
the scene of action to arrive.

The next day came the contingents from several other
priories and abbeys, and the sight of the considerable force
gathered together gave heart and confidence to all. Algar,
Eldred, and the other leaders, Morcar, Osgot, and Harding,
moved about among the host, encouraging them with cheering
words, warning them to be in no way intimidated by the
fierce appearance of the Danes, but to hold steadfast and
firm in the ranks, and to yield no foot of ground to the
onslaught of the enemy. Many priests had accompanied the
contingents from the religious houses, and these added their
exhortations to those of the leaders, telling the men that God
would assuredly fight on their side against the heathen, and
bidding each man remember that defeat meant the destruction
of their churches and altars, the overthrow of their whole
religion, and the restored worship of the pagan gods.

Edmund went about among the gathering taking great
interest in the wild scene, for these marsh men differed much
in their appearance from the settled inhabitants of his father's
lands. The scenes in the camp were indeed varied in their
character. Here and there were harpers with groups of
listeners gathered round, as they sung the exploits of their
fathers, and animated their hearers to fresh fire and energy by
relating legends of the cruelty of the merciless Danes. Other
groups there were surrounding the priests, who were appealing
to their religious feelings as well as to their patriotism.

Men sat about sharpening their weapons, fixing on more
firmly the handles of their shields, adjusting arrows to
bowstrings, and preparing in other ways for the coming fight.
From some of the fires, round which the marsh men were
sitting, came snatches of boisterous song, while here and there,
apart from the crowd, priests were hearing confessions, and
shriving penitents.

The next morning early, one of the scouts, who had
been sent to observe the movements of the Danes, reported
that these were issuing from their camp, and advancing into
the country.

Algar marshalled his host, each part under its leaders,
and moved to meet them. Near Kesteven the armies came in
sight of each other, and after advancing until but a short
distance apart both halted to marshal their ranks anew. Eldred,
with the men of the marshes near Croyland and the contingent
from the abbey, had their post in the central division,
which was commanded by Algar himself, Edmund took post
by his father, and Egbert stood beside him.

Edmund had never before seen the Danes, and he could
not but admit that their appearance was enough to shake the
stoutest heart. All carried great shields covering them from
head to foot. These were composed of wood, bark, or leather
painted or embossed, and in the cases of the chiefs plated
with gold and silver. So large were these that in naval
encounters, if the fear of falling into the enemy's hands forced
them to throw themselves into the sea, they could float on
their shields; and after death in battle a soldier was carried
to his grave on his buckler. As they stood facing the Saxons
they locked their shields together so as to form a barrier
well-nigh impregnable against the arrows.

All wore helmets, the common men of leather, the leaders
of iron or copper, while many in addition wore coats of
mail. Each carried a sword, a battle-axe, and a bow and
arrows. Some of the swords were short and curled like a
scimitar; others were long and straight, and were wielded with
both hands. They wore their hair long and hanging down
their shoulders, and for the most part shaved their cheeks
and chins, but wore their moustaches very long.

They were, for the most, tall, lithe, and sinewy men, but
physically in no way superior to the Saxons, from whom they
differed very widely in complexion, the Saxons being fair
while the Danes were very dark, as much so as modern gypsies;
indeed, the Saxon historians speak of them as the black
pagans. Upon the other hand many of the Northmen, being
Scandinavians, were as fair as the Saxons themselves.

The Danes began the battle, those in front shouting
fiercely, and striking their swords on their shields with a
clashing noise, while the ranks behind shot a shower of arrows
among the Saxons. These at once replied. The combat was
not continued long at a distance, for the Danes with a mighty
shout rushed upon the Saxons. These stood their ground
firmly and a desperate conflict ensued. The Saxon chiefs
vied with each other in acts of bravery, and singling out the
leaders of the Danes engaged with them in hand-to-hand
conflict.

Algar had placed his swordsmen in the front line, those
armed with spears in the second; and as the swordsmen
battled with the Danes the spearmen, when they saw a shield
uplifted to guard the head, thrust under with their weapons
and slew many. Edmund, seeing that with his sword he should
have but little chance against these fierce soldiers, fell a little
behind his father and kinsman, and as these were engaged
with the enemy he from time to time, when he saw an opportunity,
rushed in and delivered a thrust with his spear at an
unguarded point. The Saxon shouts rose louder and louder
as the Danes in vain endeavoured to break through their line.
The monks fought stoutly, and many a fierce Norseman fell
before their blows.

The Danes, who had not expected so firm a resistance,
began to hesitate, and Algar giving the word, the Saxons took
the offensive, and the line pressed forward step by step. The
archers poured their arrows in a storm among the Danish
ranks. These fell back before the onslaught. Already three
of their kings and many of their principal leaders had fallen,
and at last, finding themselves unable to withstand the
impetuous onslaught of the Saxons, they turned and fled in
confusion towards their camp. The Saxons with exulting
shouts pursued them, and great numbers were slaughtered.
The Danes had, however, as was their custom, fortified the
camp before advancing, and Algar drew off his troops,
deeming that it would be better to defer the attack on
this position until the following day.

There was high feasting in the Saxon camp that evening,
but this was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the arrival
of a scout, who reported that a great Danish army marching
from the Humber was approaching the camp of the compatriots.
The news was but too true. The kings Guthorn, Bergsecg,
Oskytal, Halfdene, and Amund, and the Jarls Frene, Hingwar,
Hubba, and the two Sidrocs, with all their followers,
had marched down from Yorkshire to join the invaders
who had just landed.

The news of this immense reinforcement spread consternation
among the Angles. In vain their leaders went about
among them and exhorted them to courage, promising them
another victory as decisive as that they had won that day.
Their entreaties were in vain, for when the morning dawned
it was found that three-fourths of their number had left the
camp during the night, and had made off to the marshes
and fastnesses.

A council of the chiefs was held. The chances of conflict
appeared hopeless, so vastly were they out-numbered by
the Danes. Algar, however, declared that he would die rather
than retreat.

"If we fly now," he said, "all East Anglia will fall into the
hands of the heathen. Even should we fight and fall, the
example of what a handful of brave men can do against the
invaders will surely animate the Angles to further resistance;
while if we conquer, so great a blow will be dealt to the
renown of these Danes that all England will rise against them."

On hearing these words all the chiefs came to the determination
to win or die as they stood. Eldred took Edmund aside after
this determination had been arrived at.

"My son," he said, "I allowed you yesterday to stand by
my side in battle, and well and worthily did you bear yourself,
but to-day you must withdraw. The fight is well-nigh
hopeless, and I believe that all who take part in it are doomed
to perish. I would not that my house should altogether
disappear, and shall die more cheerfully in the hope that some
day you will avenge me upon these heathen. Therefore,
Edmund, I bid you take station at a distance behind the battle,
so that when you see the day goes against us you may escape
in time. I shall urge our faithful Egbert to endeavour, when
he sees that all is lost, to make his way from the fight and
rejoin you, and to journey with you to Wessex and there
present you to the king. For myself, if the battle is lost I shall
die rather than fly. Such is the resolution of Algar and our
other brave chiefs, and Eldred the ealdorman must not be
the only one of the leaders to run from the fray."

Edmund was deeply touched at his father's words, but
the parental rule was so strict in those days that it did not
even enter his mind to protest against Eldred's decision.

As the morning went on the Danes were engaged in the
funeral ceremonies of their dead kings, while the Saxons,
quiet and resolute, received the holy sacrament and prepared
for the fight. Algar chose a position on rising ground. He
himself with Eldred commanded the centre, Toley and Morcar
led the right wing, Osgot and Harding the left.

Each of these wings contained about five hundred men.
Algar's centre, which was a little withdrawn from its wings,
contained about 200 of his best warriors, and was designed
as a reserve, with which, if need be, he could move to the
assistance of either of the wings which might be sorely pressed
and in danger. The Saxons formed in a solid mass with their
bucklers linked together. The Danish array which issued out
from their camp was vastly superior in numbers, and was
commanded by four kings and eight jarls or earls, while two
kings and four earls remained in charge of the camp, and of
the great crowd of prisoners, for the most part women and
children, whom they had brought with them.

With the Danes who had come down from Yorkshire
were a large body of horsemen, who charged furiously down
upon the Saxons; but these maintained so firm an array with
their lances and spears projecting outward that the Danes
failed to break through them, and after making repeated efforts
and suffering heavy loss they drew back. Then the Danish
archers and slingers poured in a storm of missiles, but
these effected but little harm, as the Saxons stooped a little
behind their closely packed line of bucklers, which were stout
enough to keep out the shower of arrows. All day the struggle
continued. Again and again the Danes strove to break the
solid Saxon array, and with sword and battle-axe attempted
to hew down the hedge of spears, but in vain. At last their
leaders, convinced that they could not overcome the obstinacy
of the resistance, ordered their followers to feign a retreat.

As the Danes turned to fly the Saxons set up a triumphant
shout, and breaking up their solid phalanx rushed after them
in complete disorder. In vain Algar, Osgot, Toley,
Eldred, and the other leaders shouted to them to stand firm.
Weary of their long inactivity, and convinced that the Danes
were routed, the Saxons pursued them across the plain.
Suddenly the Danish horse, who after failing to break through
the ranks had remained apart at a short distance from the
conflict, dashed down upon the disordered Saxons, while
the flying infantry turning round also fell upon them with
exulting shouts.

Taken wholly by surprise, confused and disordered, the
Saxons could offer no effectual opposition to the charge. The
Danish horse rode among them hewing and slaying, and the
swords and battle-axes of the footmen completed the work.
In a few minutes of all the Saxon band which had for so
many hours successfully resisted the onslaught of the Danes,
not one survived save a few fleet-footed young men who,
throwing away their arms, succeeded in making their escape,
and a little group, consisting of Algar, Toley, Eldred, and the
other leaders who had gathered together when their men
broke their ranks and had taken up their position on a knoll
of ground rising above the plain. Here for a long time they
resisted the efforts of the whole of the Danes, surrounding
themselves with a heap of slain; but at length one by one they
succumbed to the Danish onslaught, each fighting valiantly
to the last.

From his position at a distance Edmund watched the
last desperate struggle. With streaming eyes and a heart torn
by anxiety for his father he could see the Danish foe swarming
round the little band who defended the crest. These
were lost from his sight, and only the flashing of swords
showed where the struggle was still going on in the centre of
the confused mass. Edmund had been on his knees for some
time, but he now rose.

"Come, old boy," he said to the hound, who lay beside
him watching the distant conflict and occasionally uttering
deep angry growls. "I must obey my father's last command;
let us away."

He took one more glance at the distant conflict before
turning. It was plain that it was nearly finished. The swords
had well-nigh ceased to rise and fall when he saw a sudden
movement in the throng of Danes and suddenly a man burst
out from them and started at headlong speed towards him,
pursued by a number of Danes. Even at that distance Edmund
thought that he recognized the tall figure of his kinsman,
but he had no time to assure himself of this, and he at once,
accompanied by the hound, set off at the top of his speed
from the field of battle. He had fully a quarter of a mile
start, and being active and hardy and accustomed to exercise
from his childhood, he had no fear that the Danes would
overtake him. Still he ran his hardest.

Looking over his shoulder from time to time he saw that
at first the Danes who were pursuing the fugitive were gaining
upon him also, but after a time he again increased the
distance, while, being unencumbered with shield or heavy
weapons, the fugitive kept the advantage he had at first gained.
Three miles from the battle-field Edmund reached the edge
of a wide-spreading wood. Looking round as he entered its
shelter he saw that the flying Saxon was still about a quarter
of a mile behind him, and that the Danes, despairing of
over-taking him, had ceased their pursuit. Edmund therefore
checked his footsteps and awaited the arrival of the fugitive,
who he now felt certain was his kinsman.

In a few minutes Egbert came up, having slackened his
speed considerably when he saw that he was no longer pursued.
He was bleeding from several wounds, and now that
the necessity for exertion had passed he walked but feebly
along. Without a word he flung himself on the ground by
Edmund and buried his face in his arms, and the lad could
see by the shaking of his broad shoulders that he was weeping
bitterly. The great hound walked up to the prostrate figure
and gave vent to a long and piteous howl, and then lying
down by Egbert's side placed his head on his shoulder.

CHAPTER III: THE MASSACRE AT CROYLAND

Edmund wept sorely for some time, for he knew that
his kinsman's agitation could be only caused by the
death of his father. At last he approached Egbert.

"My brave kinsman," he said, "I need ask you no questions,
for I know but too well that my dear father has fallen;
but rouse yourself, I pray you; let me bandage your wounds,
which bleed fast, for you will want all your strength, and we
must needs pursue our way well into the forest, for with
to-morrow's dawn the Danes will scatter over the whole country."

"Yes," Egbert said, turning round and sitting up, "I must
not in my grief forget my mission, and in truth I am faint
with loss of blood. It was well the Danes stopped when they
did, for I felt my strength failing me, and could have held out
but little further. Yes, Edmund," he continued, as the lad,
tearing strips from his garments, proceeded to bandage his
wounds, "your father is dead. Nobly, indeed, did he fight;
nobly did he die, with a circle of dead Danes around him.
He, Algar, Toley, and myself were the last four to resist. Back
to back we stood, and many were the Danes who fell before
our blows. Toley fell first and then Algar. The Danes closed
closer around us. Still we fought on, till your father was beaten
to his knee, and then he cried to me, 'Fly, Egbert, to my son.'
Then I flung myself upon the Danes like a wild boar upon
the dogs, and with the suddenness of my rush and the heavy
blows of my battle-axe cut a way for myself through them.
It was well-nigh a miracle, and I could scarce believe it when
I was free. I flung away my shield and helmet as soon as I had
well begun to run, for I felt the blood gushing out from a
dozen wounds, and knew that I should want all my strength.
I soon caught sight of you running ahead of me. Had I found
we were gaining upon you I should have turned off and made
another way to lead the Danes aside, but I soon saw that you
were holding your own, and so followed straight on. My knees
trembled, and I felt my strength was well-nigh gone, when,
looking round, I found the Danes had desisted from their
pursuit. I grieve, Edmund, that I should have left the battle
alive when all the others have died bravely, for, save a few
fleet-footed youths, I believe that not a single Saxon has
escaped the fight; but your father had laid his commands upon
me, and I was forced to obey, though God knows I would
rather have died with the heroes on that field."

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