Part 15

There is a strange story connected with the youth of Alfred, which is best given in the quaint language of one of the biographers of this good and brave king. “As he advanced through the years of infancy and youth, his form appeared more comely than those of his brothers, and in look, speech, and manners he was more graceful than they. He was already the darling of the people, who felt that in wisdom and other qualities he surpassed all the royal race. Alfred, then, being a youth of this fair promise, while training himself diligently in all such learning as he had the means of acquiring, and especially in his own mother tongue and the poems and songs which formed the chief part of Anglo-Saxon literature, was not unmindful of the culture of his body, and was a zealous practiser of hunting in all its branches, and hunted with great perseverance and success. But before all things he was wishful to strengthen his mind in the keeping of God’s commandments; and finding that worldly desires and proud and rebellious thoughts which the devil, who is ever jealous of the good, is apt to breed in the minds of the young, were likely to have the mastery of him, he used often to rise at cock-crow in the early mornings, and repairing to some church or holy place, there cast himself before God in prayer, that he might do nothing contrary to His holy will. But finding himself still hard tempted, he began at such times to pray, as he lay prostrate before the altar, that God in his great mercy would strengthen his mind and will by some sickness, such as would be of use to him in the subduing of his nature, but would not show itself outwardly, or render him powerless or contemptible in worldly duties, or less able to benefit his people. For King Alfred from his earliest years held in great dread leprosy and blindness, and every disease which would make a man useless or contemptible in the conduct of affairs. And when he had often, and with much fervor, prayed to this effect, it pleased God to afflict him with a very painful disease, which lay upon him with little respite until he was in his twentieth year. At this age he became betrothed to her who was afterwards his wife, Elswitha, the daughter of Ethelred, the Earl of the Gaini in Mercia. Alfred, then, at that time being on a visit to Cornwall for the sake of hunting, turned aside from his sport, as his custom often was, to pray in a certain chapel in which was buried the body of St. Guerir. There he entreated God that he would exchange the sickness with which he had been up to that time afflicted for some other disease, which should in like manner not render him useless or contemptible. And so, finishing his prayers, he got up and rode away, and soon after perceived within himself that he was made whole of his old sickness. So his marriage was celebrated in Mercia, to which came great numbers of people, and there was feasting which lasted through the night as well as by day. In the midst of which revelry Alfred was attacked by sudden and violent pain, the cause of which neither they who were then present, nor indeed any physician in after years, could rightly ascertain. At the time, however, some believed that it was the malignant enchantment of some person amongst the guests; others, that it was the special spite of the devil; others again, that it was the old sickness come back on him, or a strange kind of fever. In any case, from that day until his forty-fourth year he was subject to this same sickness, which frequently returned, giving him the most acute pain, and, as he thought, making him useless for every duty. But how far the king was from thinking rightly in this respect, those who read of the burdens that were laid upon him, and the work which he accomplished, can best judge for themselves.” Such is this quaint account of Alfred’s religious devotion, and his patient endurance of suffering.

According to the will of Ethelwolf, the father of Alfred, Ethelbald, his eldest son, was to retain the throne of Wessex until his death, when he should be succeeded by his two youngest brothers, Ethelred and Alfred, in succession; while Ethelbert, the second son, should be king of Kent, Sussex, and Surrey. His estates and other property were divided amongst his children. From 858 until 860 Ethelred and Alfred lived in Kent with their brother Ethelbert. Upon the death of Ethelbald in 860, Ethelred and Alfred both waived their rights, and allowed Ethelbert to ascend the throne of Wessex. In 866 Ethelbert also died, and Ethelred now became the sovereign, and Alfred the crown prince. Alfred was very fond of study, and also very devout, as the above description from the old annals shows. During his youth he had gathered together the Services of the Hours, called _Celebrationes Horarum_, with many of the Psalms, which he had written in a small handbook that he always carried with him; and on battle-field, or exiled in the wild forests, or ruling the nation as a proud king, this little book of devotion was always within reach, and constantly perused.

Within six weeks after his marriage he was called to arms by the invasion of the Danes, already mentioned, under Guthrum and Hubba; and within a few short months his brother Ethelred had been killed in battle, he himself had become king, and nine pitched battles had been fought in his own kingdom of Wessex under his leadership.

To understand more clearly the character of the Danes, a slight description of their weird and fantastic religious ideas is necessary. Woden was the chief figure in their ancient mythology. He was the god of battles, “who giveth victory, who re-animates warriors, who nameth those who are to be slain.” This Woden had been an inspired teacher as well as a conqueror, and had given to these wild Northmen a Scandinavian alphabet, and songs of battle. Their traditions related that Woden had led them from the shores of the Black Sea to the fiords of Norway, the far shores of Iceland. Having departed from them, he drew their hearts after him, and lived ever after in Asgard, the garden of the gods. There in his own great hall, Valhalla, the hall of Odin, he dwelt. And it was believed that the brave slain in battle should be permitted to go to Valhalla, and feast there with the mighty Odin.

There were also supposed to be other gods in this hall of Valhalla. Chief of these was Balder, the sun-god, white, beautiful, benignant; and Thor, the thunder-god, with terrible smiting hammer and awful brows, engaged mainly in expeditions into Jotun land, a chaotic world, the residence of the giants, or devils, known as frost, fire, tempest, and the like. Thor’s attendant was Thealfi, or manual labor. This thunder-god was described to be full of unwieldly strength, simplicity, and rough humor. There was supposed to be a tree of life also in the unseen world,—Igdrasil, with its roots in Hela, the kingdom of death, at the foot of which sit the three Nornas, known as the past, present, and future. They also believed that there would some day be a struggle of the gods and Jotuns, or dwellers in the chaotic world, and that at last the gods, Jotuns, and Time himself would all sink down into darkness, from which in due season there should issue forth a new heaven and a new earth, in which a higher god and supreme justice shall at last reign.

So their religion was only a religion of war; and, to be brave in battle, they thought the most pleasing devotion they could show to their warlike gods. So this contest between the Danes and Saxons was not only one for the possession of the fruitful land of England, but was a contest between Paganism and Christianity. King Alfred was a devout Christian, and although the Saxons’ ideas of religion were mixed with much superstition and bigotry, they believed in the true God, Jehovah, and in salvation through the redemption of Jesus Christ; although the pure Gospel, as taught by Christ himself when on the earth more than eight hundred years before this time, had become mixed with all sorts of legends of saints and marvellous stories fabricated by the priests, and handed down as traditions among the people, whose ignorance placed them completely under the sway of the only class of men who were educated sufficiently to read and write, and by whom all copies were made of such books as they possessed at that day, which consisted only of rolls of parchment, penned laboriously by hand in the various monasteries, scattered throughout the different kingdoms of the then civilized world. The most famous battle between the Saxons and the Danes is known as the battle of Ashdown, and is thus described in the old English annals:—

[Illustration: ALFRED.

_Roy d’Angleterre,_

_Né en 849. Mort le 28.8bre. 899._]

“At early dawn the hosts were on foot. Alfred marched up promptly with his men to give battle, but King Ethelred stayed long time in his tent at prayer hearing the mass. Now the Christians had determined that King Ethelred with his men should fight the two pagan kings, and that Alfred his brother, with his men, should take the chance of war against the earls. Things being so arranged, the king remained long time in prayer, while the pagans pressed on swiftly to the fight. Then Alfred, though holding the lower command, could no longer support the onslaught of the enemy without retreating, or charging upon them without waiting for his brother. A moment of fearful anxiety was this for the young prince, who thus no doubt mused: ‘Bagsac and the two Sidrocs at the top of the down with double my numbers, already overlapping my flanks: Ethelred still at mass—dare I go up at them? In the name of God and St. Cuthbert, yes!’ and with a strong heart, brave for this great crisis, Alfred puts himself at the head of his men, and leads them up the slope against the whole pagan host, ‘With the rush of a wild boar.’ For he too relied on the help of God. He formed his men in a dense phalanx to meet the foe, which was never broken in that long fight. Mass being over, Ethelred comes up to the help of his brother, and the battle raged along the whole hillside. The pagans occupied the higher ground, and the Christians came up from below. There was also in that place, a single stunted thorn-tree. Round this tree the opposing hosts came together with loud shouts from all sides, the one party to pursue their wicked course, the other to fight for their lives, their wives and children, and their country. And, when both sides had fought long and bravely, at last the pagans, by God’s judgment, gave way, being no longer able to abide the Christian onslaught; and after losing a great part of their army, broke in shameful flight. One of their two kings and five earls were there slain, together with many thousand pagans, who covered with their bodies the whole plain of Ashdown. And all the pagan host pursued its flight, not only until night, but through the next day, even until they reached the stronghold from which they had come forth. The Christians followed, slaying all they could reach until dark. Neither before nor since was ever such slaughter known since the Saxons first gained England by their arms.”

Alfred’s decision and promptness, in that time of emergency, not only won the day, but hardened his own nerve to flint, and his judgment, amid the clash of arms, to steel. Through all the weary years of battle and misfortune that followed, there was no sign of indecision and faint-heartedness. He had conquered fear and hesitancy there, as valiantly as he had conquered temptations to evil in his earlier youth. About two months after the battle of Ashdown, Ethelred and Alfred fought for the last time together, against their unwearied foes. In this contest Ethelred was mortally wounded, and died soon after, and was buried by Alfred with kingly honors in Wimborne Minster.

Alfred, now at the age of twenty-three, ascended the throne of his fathers, which seemed at that time tottering, and was not an inheritance to be desired in the year of 871, when Alfred succeeded his brother. It would not be surprising if for a moment he lost heart and hope, and allowed himself to doubt whether God would by his hand deliver his afflicted people from their relentless foes. In the eight pitched battles which had been fought with the pagan army, the flower of the youth of the Saxon nation had fallen. Kent, Sussex, and Surrey were at the mercy of the Danes. London had been pillaged and was in ruins, and several provinces in his own Wessex had been desolated. The Danes were even then striking into new districts, and if the rich lands yet unplundered were to be saved from their voracious grasp, it would only be by prompt and decisive action.

A month has passed since the death of Alfred’s brother and his succession to this tottering throne. Alfred, with the greatest difficulty, collects enough men to take the field openly. The first great battle that Alfred fought, as king, was at Wilton. At first Alfred’s troops carried all before them, but the tide turned in favor of the Danes, and Alfred and the Saxons were driven from the field. There was immense loss upon both sides, and a treaty was agreed upon between Alfred and Hubba, the Danish chieftain. By this treaty, the Danes were to retire from Alfred’s dominions, provided that he would not interfere with their conquests in other parts of England. Alfred has been censured for making this treaty; but he was obliged to choose between protection for his own realm, and perhaps the entire destruction and overthrow of not only his dominions, but of all England. He had no power to aid others, and therefore endeavored to protect, if possible, his own subjects. The Danes then went to Mercia. The king of Mercia was Buthred, the brother-in-law of Alfred. Buthred paid the Danes large sums of money to leave his kingdom. The Danes departed for a while, but treacherously returned, and were again bought off. Hubba scarcely left the kingdom this time, but spent the money received, and then went to plundering as before, regardless of all promises. Buthred, in despair, fled the country and went to Rome, where he died soon after of grief. The Danes then took possession of Mercia, and set over the people a king from whom they demanded an annual tribute. In the meantime, new hordes of Danes arrived in England; and one place after another was plundered by them, and they obtained possession of the town of Exancester (now Exeter), which was a great loss to Alfred. King Alfred then determined to meet the Danes upon their own element; and he built and equipped a small fleet, and was successful in his first encounter with his enemies, having defeated a fleet of Danish ships in the channel, and having captured one of the largest of their vessels.

But after all, Alfred gained no decisive victory over his foes. He then tried to bind the Danes by Christian oaths, in making a treaty with them. The Danes were accustomed to swear by a certain ornament which they wore, when they wished to impose a very solemn religious oath; and to swear by this bracelet was to place themselves under the most solemn obligations they could assume. Alfred, however, was not satisfied with this pagan ceremony, but obliged them, in one treaty, to swear by certain Christian relics, which were held in great awe and sacredness by the Saxons. But the Danes broke their treaties with the most reckless defiance; and, as years passed, Alfred found his army broken, his resources exhausted, his towns and castles taken, until about eight years after his coronation at Winchester, as monarch of the most powerful of all the Saxon kingdoms, he found himself unable to resist the further attacks of the Danes, who had come over in fresh hordes, and captured his kingdom of Wessex; which calamity Alfred was powerless to prevent.

[Illustration: ALFRED AND THE CAKES.]

The Saxon chieftains and nobles fled in terror, and Alfred himself, with only one or two trusty friends, retired to the vast forests, which skirted the remote western frontiers of his once proud realm. It was during these homeless wanderings that the incident is said to have occurred, which has ever since been related of this bitter experience of want and misery in the life of Alfred the Great. The story is, that Alfred, weary and hungry, sought shelter in the miserable hut of a cow-herd, who gave him such poor fare as his lowly lot allowed. Alfred, while remaining with these simple folks, was one day engaged in mending his arrows, when the cow-herd’s wife, totally unconscious of the rank and station of her guest, requested him, in no polite terms, to watch her cakes which were baking in the coals, while she employed herself in other labors. King Alfred, absorbed in his sorrowful musings, forgot the injunctions of the ill-natured woman, and so allowed her cakes to burn; which, when she perceived, she gave him a good scolding; saying, “You man! you will not turn the bread you see burning, but you will be very glad to eat it when it is done!” This unlucky woman little thought she was addressing the great King Alfred.

Alfred, though restless and wretched in his apparently hopeless seclusion, bore his privations with patience and fortitude, and did not cease to plan some way by which he might reorganize his forces and rescue his country from the ruin into which it had fallen. Alfred now established himself at a place called Ethelney; and, having gradually collected a few followers, they built a kind of fortress, where Alfred’s family at length joined him, and to which numbers of his old troops began to repair. The following incident is recorded in the old annals concerning this time in King Alfred’s life. It was very difficult to supply his little garrison with food, and sometimes they found themselves in sore want. At one time the provisions in the house were nearly exhausted, and to add to their distress, it was also in the winter. All of Alfred’s little band having gone away with their fishing apparatus and bows and arrows in the hope of securing some food, Alfred was left alone with only one attendant. King Alfred was sitting reading, when a beggar came to the door and asked for food. Alfred, looking up from his book, inquired of his attendant what food there was in the house. It was found that there was only a single loaf of bread remaining, and a little wine in a pitcher. This would not be half enough for their own wants, should the hunting party return unsuccessful. Alfred ordered half of the loaf to be given to the stranger; but when he had been served he was seen no more, and the loaf remained whole, as though none had been taken from it, and the pitcher was now full to the brim. Alfred, meantime, had turned to his reading, over which he fell asleep, and dreamed that St. Cuthbert stood by him and told him it was he who had been his guest; and that God had seen his afflictions and those of his people, which were now about to end, in token whereof his people would return that day from their expedition with a great take of fish. And while Alfred yet mused on this strange dream from which he had awakened, his servants came in, bringing fish enough to have fed an army. The legend also goes on to say, that on the next morning King Alfred went forth in the forests and wound his horn thrice, which drew to him before noon five hundred men. Another story is told of the manner in which King Alfred discovered the number and power of his enemies’ forces. It is said that he assumed the garb of a minstrel, and with one attendant visited the camp of the Dane Guthrum. Here he stayed, amusing the Danish king and nobles with his songs and harp, boldly venturing into their very tents, until he had learned all he desired to know concerning their plans.

Whereupon he returned to Ethelney; and the time having arrived for a great effort, he sent word to his people to meet him at a place called Egbert’s Stone. Here, on the 12th of May, 878, King Alfred met his gathered forces, and losing no time, moved forward toward Guthrum’s camp. Alfred encamped for the night on an eminence from which he could watch the movements of his enemies. That night, as he was sleeping in his tent, he had a remarkable dream. St. Neot appeared to him, and told him to have no fear of the immense army of pagans whom he was about to encounter on the morrow, as God had taken him under his special protection, having accepted his penitence for all his faults; he might now go forward into the battle without fear, as God was about to give him the victory over all his enemies.