Canute retired upon London, followed closely by Edmund. Upon the road messengers came from Edric imploring the forgiveness of his injured brother-in-law, and offering to join him with all his forces. There was long consultation over this in the English camp; but in spite of Edmund's own feelings it was decided to receive Edric, since Canute's fate would seem to be quite decided if England were united by the union of those southern English who had fought under Canute with Edric, and the men of Mercia and Wessex who had won the previous victories.
So the two armies met together. The men of Hampshire, who had followed the Dane, were welcomed as returning to their true allegiance by their countrymen; and Edmund did violence to his feelings by receiving Edric to his council board, if not to his friendship.
It was a joyous day when Edmund approached London, and thus fulfilled the promise of his coronation. Canute, who had made another attempt on the city, fled before him, but hovered around until two days later. Edmund engaged him the third time at Brentford, and defeated him again. Then Edmund retired into Wessex to raise more troops, and during his absence the Danes took the offensive again, once more besieging London in vain, while they harried all the neighbouring districts until Edmund returned with a large army, drove them into Kent, and gave them such a fearful defeat at Otford that they fled in despair to the Isle of Sheppey, and all men said Edmund would have destroyed them utterly, had not Edric persuaded him to stop the pursuit at Aylesford.
The Danes soon emerged again, and, crossing the Thames, commenced plundering Essex, when Edmund and Edric, with all the flower of the Anglo-Saxon race, advanced to meet them once more. Nearly all the men of note in England followed Edmund's banner, for, now that his abilities were proved, there was a general enthusiasm in his favour. So all the rank and title of the realm stood by him when he drew up his army hard by the little river Crouch, near Assingdun, in Essex, then called Assandun.
There, by his side, when the tents were pitched the evening before the battle, stood many a brave ealdorman,--Godwin of Lindsey; Ulfketyl, the hero of the East Angles; Ethelweard, the son of the pious Ethelwine, whom men called the "Friend of God." And present at that last banquet were Ednoth, the bishop of Dorchester, and other ecclesiastics, who had come to pray for the host and to succour the dying with ghostly aid. Well nigh all the great men of England were here. But Edric supped in their midst. Their spirits were high that night, and while Edmund drank to their success on the morrow, each man responded with a fervour which augured confidence in that morrow's issue--all save the wicked Edric, whose heart seemed far from his words.
The events of that fatal morrow are matter of history. The armies joined battle. Victory seemed to favour Edmund. The Danes were already giving way, when Edric turned and fled, with his whole division, whom he had corrupted. After that all was disorder amongst the English; but they continued fighting bravely until the moon arose, and they were becoming surrounded on all sides, when, in sheer desperation, they at last gave way.
Edmund would not yield until Alfgar seized the bridle of his horse, and almost by violence caused him to turn his steed, bidding him live for England, for he was its hope. It was growing dark rapidly, and the darkness alone saved Edmund and the relics of the English army.
With a faithful few, including both Alfgar and Hermann, nearly all of the party wounded, the English king rode sadly from the scene, groaning bitterly in spirit.
"Why did I trust him again? Why did I trust him?" he kept muttering to himself.
"You did not trust him. The council overruled you. I was present," said Alfgar.