History of the Anglo-Saxons, from the Earliest Period to the Norman Conquest / Second Edition

by Thomas Miller

The ambitious hopes of Elfrida were justly doomed to meet with disappointment: the power she sought to obtain by the assassination of Edward eluded her grasp, and Dunstan, though aged and infirm, still stood at the head of his party, triumphant. The Saxons looked with disgust upon a woman who had caused her son-in-law to be stabbed at her own castle-gate; and there is but little doubt that the primate, for a time, so successfully raised the popular indignation against her, that she was compelled to seek shelter in a nunnery until the storm subsided. On the head of the son of the murderess, the primate placed the crown, in 978; and it is recorded that, instead of pronouncing a blessing upon it, the stern churchman gave utterance to a bitter malediction, foreboding that a reign which was begun with bloodshed and murder, could only end in sorrow, suffering, and dishonourable humiliation. Ethelred possessed not those qualities which, by their sterling worth, weigh down all unpopular opinion; where the darkness had once settled, it remained; for he illuminated it not by the brilliant achievement of glorious deeds. In the eyes of the Saxon nation the blood of Alfred was at last contaminated; the wisdom which had so long governed England peaceably, had waned away; and the arm which had struck terror into the hearts of five nations on the field of Brunanburg, was now weak and powerless; for the throne of England was at last occupied by the child of a murderess, whom Dunstan, from his apparent apathy, had already nick-named "The Unready."

England had long been rent asunder by civil dissensions, which the accession of Ethelred only tended to increase instead of assuaging: the sceptre had before-time fallen into young and helpless hands without diminishing the kingdom's strength, but there were then none of those private heart-burnings to contend against; none of that party bitterness which divided family against family, for the state was supported by the united strength of its nobles, and its councils swayed by a feeling of union and harmony. It was not the monks and the secular clergy that this long contention alone affected; almost every town and village was divided against itself, for the quarrel extended to the domestic hearth. Dunstan could not drive a married priest from the church without making enemies of the whole family: there was the insulted wife as well as the husband to appease; then came a wide circle of relations and friends, while, on the part of the monks, no such extensive ramifications were arrayed. Thousands were therefore found ready to overthrow a government which was headed by the primate.

Such internal dissensions as these could not pass unnoticed by the Danes, who were ever on the alert to shake off the Saxon yoke when an opportunity presented itself; and rumours of the discords which reigned in England were soon blown over the Baltic; and many an anxious eye began to look out over the sea for succour; for the northmen had long pined for a king of their own nation to reign over the territory which they occupied in England. Dunstan, who had lent his powerful aid in supporting the sceptre throughout three reigns, had, by this time, grown old, and feeble, and helpless; Elfrida had weakened the power she once possessed, by the very means she took to strengthen it; and two years after the accession of Ethelred, Danish ships again began to appear, and pour out their pirates to ravage as of old, and spread terror along the English coasts, for the tidings soon reached the rocky shores of Norway, that there was no longer the wisdom of an Alfred to guide the government, nor the arm of an Athelstan to protect the English throne. While, to add to this state of disunion and broken government, it is believed many of the influential Saxons were in league with the Danes, and covertly encouraged the new invaders.

Passing over the minor invasions, which first consisted of seven ships, and then of three, and of the trifling engagements which succeeded, and in which the Saxons were at one time defeated, and at another victorious, we shall commence with the first formidable force, which was commanded by Justin and Gurthmund, and which was opposed by a strong Saxon force, headed by Byrhtnoth, the governor of Essex. The sea-kings first sent a herald to the Saxon court, demanding tribute; the Saxon nobleman raised his buckler, and, looking sternly at the messenger while he shook his javelin in his face, exclaimed—"Herald of the men of the ocean, hear from my lips the answer of this people to thy message. Instead of tribute, they will bestow on you their weapons, the edge of their spears, their ancient swords, and the weight of their arms. Hear me, mariner, and carry back my message of high indignation in return. Say, that a Saxon earl, with his retainers, here stands undaunted; that he will defend unto death this land, the domain of my sovereign, Ethelred, his people, and his territory. Tell the Vikingrs that I shall think it but dastardly if they retire to their ships with the booty, without joining in battle, since they have advanced thus far into our land." A river divided the hostile forces, and the Saxon earl allowed the invaders a free passage across it unmolested, before the battle commenced. One of the sea-kings fell early in the conflict; Bryhtnoth selected the other for his opponent, and the bold Vikingr accepted the challenge. The first javelin which the sea-king hurled, slightly wounded the Saxon leader; Bryhtnoth then struck the sea-king with his spear, but the Dane "so manœuvred with his shield, that the shaft broke, and the spear sprang back and recoiled." The next blow struck by the Saxon earl pierced the ringed chains of the sea-king's armour, and the pointed weapon stuck in his heart. The Dane had no sooner fallen, than the Saxon was struck by a dart: a youth, named Wulfmor, "a boy in the field," who appears to have been the earl's page, or armour-bearer, with his own hand drew out the javelin which had transfixed the body of Bryhtnoth, and hurled it back at the Dane who had just launched it, with such force, and so sure an aim, that it struck him, and he fell dead. The Saxon earl was already staggering through loss of blood, when one of the pirates approached him, with the intent of plundering him of "his gems, his vestment, his ring, and his ornamental sword." But Bryhtnoth had still strength enough left to uplift his heavy battle-axe, "broad and brown of edge," and to strike such a blow on the corslet of the Dane, that it compelled him to loose his hold. After this he fell, covered with wounds, but uttering his commands to the last moment. Although the battle was continued for some time after his death, the Saxons were defeated.

Turn we now to Ethelred. While here and there a Saxon chief was found bold enough to make head, like Bryhtnoth, against the invaders, the dastardly sovereign assembled his witena-gemot, to consult as to what amount of tribute should be paid to the invaders, to induce them to abandon the island. Siric, the successor of Dunstan, is said to have been the first who proposed this cowardly measure. Had the old primate been alive, with all his faults, he would have seen England drenched with Saxon blood, and been foremost in the ranks to have spilt his own, ere he would have seen his country degraded by such an unmanly concession. Ten thousand pounds was the disgraceful grant paid to purchase a temporary peace with the Danes. The invaders received their money, departed, and speedily returned with a greater force to demand a larger sum. The northmen found no lack of allies in a land where their countrymen had so long been located, who, shaking off their allegiance to England, flew eagerly to arms, and joined the new-comers.

But the old Saxon spirit was not yet wholly extinct. There was still remaining amongst the nobles a few who were resolved not to be plundered with impunity. With great effort they at last succeeded in arousing the lethargic king; and by his command, a few strong ships were built at London, and filled with chosen soldiers; and to Alfric, the governor of Mercia, was entrusted the guidance of the Saxon fleet. His first orders were to sail round the southern coast, and to attack the Danes at some particular port, in which they could easily be surrounded. A duke and two bishops were also joined with him in the command. Alfric turned traitor, communicated to the Danes the meditated mode of attack, then carried with him what force he could in the night, and secretly joined the invaders. The rest of the fleet remained true to their unworthy king, and honestly executed their duty; although, through the frustration of their able plans, they found the Danish ships in full flight, and at first were only able to capture one of the enemy's vessels. But that courage and perseverance which have so long distinguished the English navy, were, even in this early age, frequently evinced; and before the Danish ships were able to regain a safe harbour, many of them were captured by the Saxons, and, amongst the rest, were those which the traitor Alfric had carried over to the enemy; he, however, contrived to escape; and Ethelred,—who had been trained in the barbarous school of Elfrida,—to avenge the crimes committed by Alfric, ordered the eyes of his son, Algar, to be put out. The next attack was made upon Lincolnshire, but the command of the Saxons was again entrusted to three chiefs of Danish origin, who appear to have crossed over, and joined their countrymen at the commencement of the battle.

It was in the spring of 994 that a formidable fleet entered the Thames, consisting of nearly a hundred ships, and commanded by Olaf, king of Norway, and Swein, king of Denmark. On first landing, they took formal possession of England, according to an ancient custom of their country, by first planting one lance upon the shore, and throwing another into the river they had crossed. Although some resistance was offered, and they were compelled to abandon their original plan of plundering London, they were enabled to over-run Essex and Kent; and satisfied with the plunder they obtained in these counties, they next turned their arms successfully against Sussex and Hampshire, and in none of these places did they meet with opposition of sufficient importance to draw forth a word of comment from the ancient chroniclers—a strong proof of the disaffection that must have reigned amongst the Saxons, and of the unpopularity of Ethelred's government.

Instead of arming in the defence of his kingdom, Ethelred again had recourse to his exchequer, and despatched messengers to know the terms the Danes demanded for a cessation of hostilities. Sixteen thousand pounds (though some of our early historians have named a much larger sum) was the price the northern kings now claimed for the purchase of peace. It was paid; and the king of Norway, after having received hostages for his safety, paid a visit to the Saxon court. While he was Ethelred's guest he was baptized, and, as it appears, not for the first time, for the sea-kings cared but little for changing their creed, when rich presents accompanied the persuasions of the Christian bishops. But whether Olaf departed a pagan or a Christian, he solemnly promised never more to invade England, and religiously kept his word.

After the lapse of about three years, Swein, king of Denmark, again resumed his hostilities. Wessex, Wales, Cornwall, and Devonshire, were this time ravaged. The monastery of Tavistock was destroyed, and although laden with plunder, so little dread had the Danes of the Saxons that they boldly took up their quarters for the winter in the island. It is true they were not allowed to carry on their work of destruction without molestation; but no sooner was an attack planned and a battle arranged, than either treason or accident overthrew or checked the operation. A spirit of disaffection reigned amongst the people. That earnestness of purpose, and determined valour, which had hitherto so strongly marked the Saxon character seemed all but to have died out. As for Ethelred, though like his mother, handsome in features, and tall of stature, he had neither the abilities to figure in the field nor the cabinet. William of Malmesbury pictured his character in three words, when he called him a "fine sleeping figure." While Swein was engaged in a war with Olaf of Norway, another army of Danes landed in England, though under what leader has not transpired. At every new invasion the Danes rose in their demands, and this time their forbearance was purchased by the enormous sum of twenty-four thousand pounds.

We now arrive at one of the darkest pages of English history—a massacre which throws into shade the sanguinary slaughter committed by the command of Hengist, at Stonehenge. By what means this vast conspiracy was formed is not clearly stated, although it is on record that letters were sent secretly from the king to every city and town in England, commanding all the Saxon people throughout the British dominions to rise on the same day, and at the same hour, to slaughter the Danes. On the day that ushered in the feast of St. Brice, in the year 1002, this cruel command was executed, though we trust that there is some exaggeration in the accounts given by the ancient chroniclers, which state, that all the Danish families scattered throughout England; husbands, wives, children, down to the smiling infant that pressed the nipple with "its boneless gums," were, within the space of one brief hour, mercilessly butchered. Even Gunhilda, the sister of Swein, the Danish king, who had married a Saxon earl, and become a Christian, was not saved from the inhuman massacre; and her boy, though the son of a Saxon nobleman, was first slain before her face, ere she herself was beheaded. For nearly five generations had the Danes been settled down in England; yet we fear this dreadful order spared not those whose forefathers had been born on the soil. Through the eye of imagination we look with horror upon such a scene. We picture near neighbours who had lived together for years—who had, when children, played together—who had grown up and intermarried;—we picture the wife rising up against the husband, the father slaying his son-in-law; for neither guest, friend, nor relation appear to have been spared. The insolence, and excess, and brutality of the Danish soldiers formed no excuse for the slaughter of the more peaceable inhabitants who had so long been allowed to occupy the land, and had become naturalized to the soil. Pomp and grandeur, and military array, to a certain extent, disguise the horrors of war, though they lessen not the effect such scenes produce upon a sensitive mind: but here there was nothing to conceal cold-blooded and naked murder from the open eye of day. But Swein is already at the head of his fleet, riding over the billows, and to him we will now turn, as he stands upon the deck of his vessel, breathing vengeance against the Saxons.