Cædwalla; or, The Saxons in the Isle of Wight: A Tale

by Frank Cowper

The news that had arrived was very serious. Arwald was on the march, with nearly the whole force of the Western Wihtwaras, to crush the little party that had so boldly effected a lodgement on Binbrygge-ea.

Ceolwulf had at once hastily sent out to fetch in all the following Ælfhere could count on. The bravest had unfortunately fallen fighting round their lord in the first assault and capture of the homestead, but a good number could still be reckoned on who would be likely to give a report of themselves in an encounter with the enemy. But the force that was on the march against them was treble, nearly quadruple, the number they could hope to oppose to them. Arwald fully realised the importance of crushing this little band of enemies before Cædwalla arrived in the island. And he had received sure information that he did intend to arrive and re-assert the dominion of Wessex as soon as ever he had settled with his opponents among the South Saxons.

No time therefore was to be lost if Ælfhere's men hoped to save their lives. The question which most seriously presented itself was whether they would abandon the old homestead, and retire to the ruins again, or retreat still further to the stockade Athelhune had made the evening after their shipwreck, on the summit of the wooded hill under Binbrygge down.

Ceolwulf and Athelhune were in favour of this plan, but Wulf liked the comfort of the old house and the abundance of good cheer which he saw around him; he was naturally reckless and preferred a positive, although precarious comfort, to a certainty of discomfort and a doubtful safety.

Ceolwulf was convinced that all would be lost if they remained at Brædynge. He knew the certain destruction that would await them, and urged that their only hope was to take up such a position as should enable them to hold out until Cædwalla could come or send them reinforcements; and they would send at once to tell him of their situation. Strongly stockaded as they would be at their old post, with the creek at their feet, dense woods behind and around them, and many defensible positions between them and the place where they had left the old boat; there they could fight with every advantage to themselves, and disadvantage to Arwald. To these arguments all that the Atheling Wulf replied, was by saying they were good men enough to fight any number of beggarly Wihtwaras, and he didn't see why he should stir out of comfortable quarters for anyone. The matter was at last referred to Ælfhere, who at once decided they must give up all hopes of defending the homestead, and must retire to the knoll above the Yare, locally known as Yaver wood. At this decision the Atheling Wulf was much dissatisfied, but there was no good disputing it, for he had only brought two men with him, and Athelhune quite agreed with Ælfhere.

All was now confusion. The neighbouring ceorls and thralls were rapidly coming in, and with them came such of their worldly goods as they could carry. Their wives and families accompanied them, and the dismay was universal when it was known that the homestead was to be abandoned, and all would have to cross to Binbrygge-ea, or be left at the mercy of Arwald. And what that mercy would be after this rising against his authority, all knew; and none were anxious to experience. Many would have liked to go back to their homes, but the thought that their lot would not be much better, deterred them; indeed it might be very much worse, for Arwald would be sure to plunder them although he might spare their lives, while in the event of Ælfhere being able to hold out until Cædwalla arrived, and victory then smiling upon their arms, as was not unlikely, a terrible punishment would await them at the hands of their justly enraged lord. Moved by such considerations, the crowd of armed ceorls with their households, and such belongings as they had brought, prepared to cross the ford over the Yare as the tide was now low, and make the best of their way to the wild fastnesses of Binbrygge-ea.

Athelhune and Ceolwulf showed much judgment in the direction and management of this heterogeneous mass, and Wulfstan, to his great joy, was allowed to act as a kind of aide-de-camp to Ceolwulf. The fighting men were sifted out, and formed up with the Boseham and West Saxon warriors. These numbered not more than seven men altogether, without counting Athelhune, Ceolwulf and the Atheling Wulf, each of whom, however, counted as hosts in themselves, for they were thoroughly experienced, toughened warriors. Including all the fighting men available, there was a respectable force of more than a hundred men. This body, on the whole well armed with shields, axes, spears, and swords, while some few possessed bows and arrows, was placed under the command of Wulf the Atheling, out of compliment to his rank, and were not to march until later in the day. Wulfstan was still more delighted at being told to get all the boys together and make them collect all the stones they could find, the sharper the flints the better; many of the boys possessed slings, and like boys of all ages in the lower order, were excellent shots at bringing down rabbits, or birds sitting. Ceolwulf had counted on this assistance to annoy the enemy on their advancing to attack the stockade. Ceolwulf himself had undertaken, with the aid of the most infirm and oldest of Ælfhere's servants, to go on with the crowd of ceorls and thralls who could be spared from the first fighting line under Wulf, and superintend the crossing of the ford, and then enlarge and perfect the stockade. The chieftains had carefully counted their time, and had arranged to have their forces concentrated on the Yaver hill before sunset. They reckoned that Arwald would not reach the homestead at Brædynge before the middle or end of the afternoon, that his men would be wearied with their march, and that, if they discovered where they had retreated, they would not attempt to cross the ford at high water, or care to stir at all for the matter of that, as all their food would either have to be brought with them, or they must go without, for it was carefully provided that every article of food, alive or dead, should be cleared out of the neighbourhood, and safely stored in the stockade, or else behind the protection of that little fortress, which commanded the only approach to the woods and commons beyond, between Binbrygge down and the Foreland, and which would serve as pasturage for the cattle. Thus Binbrygge-ea would form a little fortified settlement surrounded by the sea on nearly every side, and accessible only by the ford at low water, or else by the sandy beach which kept the sea from encroaching on the Yare; which stream must be in any case crossed before getting into the peninsula at all. Athelhune had undertaken the command of the outposts, whom it was most necessary to keep to their work properly; and it was arranged that as soon as his men caught sight of Arwald's column advancing, they should either make a pretended attack on the advanced body, and so drive them in on the main column, if the nature of the ground or Arwald's forces gave any opportunity of this being done without loss to Athelhune's men, or they should retire at once to the heavy troops under Wulf, and then the whole would retreat across the Yare in good order, and unseen by the enemy, who would find the old homestead totally deserted, and would most likely suspect some stratagem.

Everything was now perfectly arranged. The long line of straggling countrymen, with their wives, children, and cattle, had been slowly winding down to the ford across the Yare, for some time past, and were seen here and there among the bushes on the other side in their ascent to the woods behind Yaver hill. It was now a little past noon; there were many picturesque groups still left, however, seated around the homestead. Mothers looking after their little ones, and resting after the long walk they had already had before setting out again. Ælfhere and Malachi had been carried on litters down to the ford, and were already some way on the other side, and Ceolwulf had set all the able-bodied men who had reached the stockade, to fell more trees, clear the ground all round as far as possible, and enlarge the accommodation. It was not intended that the women and children should stop here. They were to go on with the less able-bodied men, and the cattle, and take shelter in a secluded dell under the Binbrygge down not more than a mile away, but in the midst of dense brushwood, and in a spot known only to the local inhabitants.

It was now getting on for two hours past noon. Athelhune had gone off with his band of skirmishers to try and get news of the enemy; not knowing the country himself he was compelled to have recourse to the aid of one of Ælfhere's servants for guidance. It would have been better if Ceolwulf had undertaken this service, but the pride of Athelhune would not allow him to superintend mere manual labour, however important, and so he was assigned the post of honour next to that of the Atheling Wulf.

Athelhune's guide led him up the route or track that passed behind the homestead, and crossing the ridge of Æscing down dipped again towards the central valley of the island. From this high ground the Wessex chieftain commanded a wide extending view; at his feet lay the wooded dell and half-ruined roofs of Ælfhere's homestead, beyond was the valley of the Yare, and the silver track of the stream as it meandered among the mud wastes of Brædynge haven to meet the incoming tide that would so soon convert the dreary swamp into a lovely lake. The little boat—a mere spot—in which Wulf, the Atheling, had come the day before, was lying high and dry near a shingle hard; across the Yare the long line of country people could be seen trailing like a long snake from the homestead below, till it was lost in the woods on the other side. The promontory or peninsula of Binbrygge, stood out in the midst of the sea, except where the long back of the magnificent down intercepted the horizon towards the south-east; far away, in the east, over the distant sea, could be seen a few dots edging the horizon. At that very moment among those dots which were the wind-blown trees of Selsea, Wilfrid and Cædwalla were discussing the invasion of Wihtea, and Ædric was wondering what had become of Wulfstan. The clear cloud-flecked sky looked down on a weary world. Wars and rumours of wars, and a people suffering much.