It was nine hundred years ago—before William the Conqueror was born, and the United States had not even been thought of. Up in the cold, white northland lived a race of fearless vikings, and down in pleasant England reigned a weak, unable king. His name was Ethelred, and because he was always behind time with his plans and his work, people called him the Unready, and in the day in which he lived it was a very serious thing for a king to be unready.
Ever since the Danes had discovered what a fair land England was, they had wanted to take it. They came with their armies in King Alfred’s time. They returned again during the reign of his sons, and when young Ethelred ascended the throne and word went forth of how unable and unready he was, their boats brought a mighty army and surrounded the island. Danish soldiers camped on the broad English moorlands, Danish songs echoed through the woods of Kent and Surrey and sounded in the streets of London town. The invaders were in full possession of the city. They held the royal castle, and their generals slept in King Ethelred’s beds, while he had to take a bunk wherever he could find one. They were bold, brave, and strong. They had leaders who knew not the meaning of fear and were always ready, and it seemed that this time they would take the kingdom.
Yet they didn’t take it after all, for there were other brave, bold men who came to Ethelred’s aid.
Twenty ships sailed down from the seas of Norway, twenty goodly vessels bearing blue and crimson sails, for the boy king Olaf, who dwelt in the far north country, had heard of the plight of Ethelred the Unready and said to his men, “Let us go and fight for him as we fight for our own land.”
At these words the soldiers cheered and bent to the oars, and thus they went to England.
In from the sea they came and up the broad green Thames toward London town. The people along the river despaired at sight of their standard, for they thought another army was coming to attack them. But the sorrow turned to rejoicing when King Ethelred met them just below the city, and Olaf said, in loud, clear tones, “I have brought my soldiers to fight for thee.”
Then there rang out such a blast of welcome as never English war horns sounded before or since.
Olaf lost no time. The men of the north country fought for the love of fighting, and he was eager to hurl his army against the Danes.
“First we will take the fort they have built to command the Thames,” he exclaimed. “Then we will drive them from the city.”
King Ethelred shook his head.