The Paladins of Edwin the Great

by Sir Clements R. Markham

Hatfield Chase was a vast extent of lake and morass on the lower course of the Don, overgrown with reeds and other water plants, and dotted with islands covered with trees and frequented by deer in great numbers. Penda led his army across this labyrinth, from island to island, wading and sometimes swimming. He had just escaped from his difficulties and drawn up the forces of Mercia on the firm land, when the well–marshalled army of Edwin came in sight. They passed the night facing each other, with the camp fires of both sides visible, and next morning they joined battle.

Edwin rose at dawn and called his chiefs around him. "We must beat the Mercians," he said, "before our other enemies arrive, or we are lost. It is in the hands of God. If it is His will I will die on this field fighting for the right. But keep the men in good heart. Friends and brothers, never in the world's history had king such faithful servants! Living or dying, our hopes, our aims, are one. True and loyal friends, we stand or fall together." He embraced his sons, his four surviving paladins, and the venerable Saebald, whose hair was now white with age. He was seventy–three. They then all knelt down and received the sacrament from James the Deacon, who offered up prayers for the good men and true who were to fight that day in a righteous cause. It was the morning of the 14th of October 633.

Edwin's army was in three divisions. He entrusted the right to Godric and Saebald, with his son Offrid. Porlor and Eadfrid commanded the left. The King and Coelred were in the centre. Sivel was well mounted, and undertook to bring news to the King from the two wings and to carry orders. The whole line advanced bravely to the attack, the numbers of the two armies being about equal, but Penda had his back to the swamps. Both sides fought most valiantly. At last the Mercians began to give way. Porlor had actually driven a large body into the swamps. The day appeared to be won. At this critical moment Sivel galloped up to report that the Welshmen under Cadwalla were in sight, and rushing down upon the rear of the English right flank in overwhelming numbers. Edwin was obliged to order two–thirds of his force, under Godric and Saebald, to face round and advance to meet the Welsh. Before leaving with these orders, Coelred called Sivel aside, and entreated him, by their sacred friendship, to save his life. "One of us must survive," he said. "The safety of the widows and children will be in your keeping. My Sivel, you must live on." They pressed each other's hands, and Sivel galloped off with his orders.

Penda now saw that the force opposed to him was so weakened that it was less than half his own strength. He rallied his men, and a terrible slaughter commenced. The Deirans fell where they stood. None fled. There was not a man who was not ready to die for his beloved King. Porlor had closed up from the left, and the brothers were now fighting by the side of Edwin. At this moment Froda arrived with the appalling news that Godric, Saebald and his sons, and Offrid had all been slain, and that the right wing was falling back, overwhelmed by numbers. "Froda, my true friend," said Coelred, "go at speed to the Humber bank, where you will find one of my boats. Hurry to Hemingborough and to Stillingfleet. Tell the ladies to fly with the children to Driffield in the Wolds. Then speed to York and announce the tidings to Bassus that all is lost. Remember that, when we are dead, Froda the son of Tanwin is chief of the Stillingas." The young man knelt down, kissed the hands of the King, of Coelred, and Porlor, then galloped off in the direction of the Humber.

The very thick of the fight now centred round the King and his two paladins. Their brave men had fallen in heaps. Not one yielded an inch of ground. Edwin retreated fighting until he had a bank about six feet high, covered with tangled briers, at his back. Here he made his last stand. He wielded his sword like a true Viking, but at length a spear–thrust dealt him a mortal wound. He fell. Coelred and Porlor now stood over the body of their King—their backs to the bank, and half surrounded by the foe. It was not the Berserker rage that flashed from their eyes, yet something as terrible. It was the righteous wrath of brave men who foresee the ruin of a great cause. Their blows were dealt with deadly force and with deadly skill. Before the death–dealing strokes their assailants recoiled and paused more than once. In such moments the brothers clasped hands and exchanged a few words. Then again their swords flashed right and left with lightning speed, dealing death around. Penda himself had been carried away, sorely wounded. There was a semicircle of Mercian dead round the hero brothers, as they protected the body of their King. Another pause. "The Valkyrie have chosen us at last, my Porlor," said Coelred. "They are carrying us away." "To Christ," continued Porlor. Then they both quoted the words of Alca spoken long ago when they were little boys. "We fall in battle, fighting in a righteous cause." These were their last words. There were loud yells and shouts, and an irresistible rush of spearmen, for no sword could touch them. They both fell dead across the body of the King, which they had defended so long and so valiantly. Their hands were clasped, their faces turned to heaven. The battle swept away in another direction, and there was silence. Brambles and ivy and the straggling branch of an overhanging yew tree, through which the sunbeams found their way in flickering light, shaded the mortal remains of three heroes, three among the chief makers of England.

KING EDWIN, COELRED, AND PORLOR SLAIN

"All is lost!" Froda had realised the fears of Bassus. No hope. Few men had come to his standard. The time was too short. There was no choice for the Queen but immediate flight. The three widows at Hemingborough and Stillingfleet had escaped, with the children, to the fortified post of Driffield on the Wolds. Bassus hastily got one of Coelred's finest vessels ready, and the Queen, with the three children, Eanflaed, Wuscfrea, and Iffi, came from Aldby. Paulinus was at York, and said that he would accompany the Queen to Kent. "Are you not Bishop of York?" said Bassus with surprise. "Is not your duty here? The Queen is safe with me." "My duty is to accompany the Queen," replied York's first bishop, who wanted a safer see. "Coward!" muttered Bassus. "He deserts at the first hint of danger, like the monks sent by Gregory, like Mellitus and Justus when they ran away from Canterbury." Unknown to Bassus, Edwin's golden chalice and cross belonging to the church at York were appropriated by Paulinus, who wished to make his appearance in Kent more acceptable by the presentation of these treasures. Cadwalla would scarcely have perpetrated such an act as this. So Ethelburga and her children, and her timid bishop, sailed for Kent under the protection of Bassus.

They arrived safely in Kent, where Ethelburga was affectionately received by her brother King Eadbald, and she brought up her daughter Eanflaed at Canterbury. But she could not feel that the boys were safe while they remained in England. She persuaded Bassus to take Wuscfrea and Iffi to Paris, and to put them under the protection of her cousin King Dagobert. They both died in infancy, and were buried with the honours due to royal children, it is believed at St. Denis. Bassus is supposed to have then returned to his native country, and to have died at Rome full of years, fondly cherishing to the last the memory of his beloved friend Lilla.