 XXI King Alfred of Atholny 878 By Thomas Hughes From the beginning of Alfred's reign in 871 he was greatly distressed by the ravages of the Danes. Seven years later, because of military weakness, exhaustion of the resources of the country, and perhaps by discouragement on the part of his subjects, the king ceased to make active resistance, and withdrew to the island of Atholny. Here he remained for several months, lost to both friends and foes, the editor. The king, then, disappears in January 878, from the eyes of Saxons and Northmen, and we must follow him by such light as tradition throws upon these months, into the thickets and marshes of Selwood. It is at this point, as is natural enough, that Romans has been most busy, and it has become impossible to disentangle the actual facts from monkish legend and Saxon ballad. In happier times, Alfred was in the habit himself of talking over the events of his wandering life, pleasantly, with his courtiers, and there is no reason to doubt that the foundation of most of the story is still current, rests on those conversations of the truth-loving king, noted down by Bishop Asser and others. The best known of these is, of course, the story of the cakes. In the depths of the Saxon forests there were always a few neat-herds and swine-herds, scattered up and down, living in rough huts, enough, we may be sure, and occupied with the care of the cattle and herds of their masters. Amongst these, in Selwood, was a neat-herd of the king, a faithful man, to whom the secret of Alfred's disguise was entrusted, who kept it even from his wife. To this man's hut the king came one day alone, and setting himself down by the burning logs on the hearth began mending his bows and arrows. The neat-herd's wife had just finished her baking, and, having other household matters to attend to, confided her logs to the king, a poor, tired-looking body who might be glad of the warmth and could make himself useful by turning the batch, and so earn his share while she got on with other business. But Alfred worked away at his weapons, thinking of anything but the good housewife's batch of loaves, which, in due time, were not only done, but rapidly burning to a cinder. At this moment the neat-herd's wife comes back, and, flying to the hearth to rescue the bread, cried out, "'Drat the man! Never to turn the loaves when you see them burning! Eyes warrant you ready enough to eat them when they're done! But besides the king's faithful neat-herd, whose name is not preserved, there are other churls in the forest who must be Alfred's comrades just now, if he will have any, and even here he has an eye for a good man, and will lose no opportunity to help one to the best of his power. Such one he finds in a certain swine-herd called Denwolf, whom he gets to know, a thoughtful Saxon man minding his charge there in the oak-woods. The rough churl, or thrall, we know not which, has great capacity, as Alfred soon finds out, and desire to learn, so the king goes to work upon Denwolf under the oak-trees when the swine will let him, and is well satisfied with the results of his teaching, and the progress of his pupil, as will appear in the sequel. But in those days the commonest necessaries of life were hard enough to come by for the king and his few companions, and for his wife and family, who soon joined him in the forest, even if they were not with him from the first. The poor foresters cannot maintain them. Nor are this band of exiles the men to live on the poor. So Alfred and his comrades are soon out foraging on the borders of the forest, and getting what subsistence they can from the pagans, or from the Christians who had submitted to their yoke. So he may imagine them dragging on life till near Easter, when a gleam of good news comes up from the west, to gladden the hearts, and strengthen the arms of these poor men in the depths of Selwood. Soon after Guthrum, and the main body of the pagans moved from Gloucester, southwards, the Viking Hubber, as had been agreed, sailed with thirty ships of war from his water-quarters on the south-welsh coast, and landed in Devon. The news of the catastrophe at Chippenham, and of the disappearance of the king, was no doubt already known in the west, and in the face of it, Odder the Olderman cannot gather strength to meet the pagan in the open field. But he is a brave and a true man, and will make no terms with the spoilers. So with other faithful thanes of King Alfred, and their followers, he throws himself into a castle of thought called Sinwith, or Sinet, there to abide whatever issue of this business God shall send them. Hubber, with the war-flag raven, and a host laden with the spoil of rich Devon veils, appear in due course before the place. It is not strong naturally, and has only wars in our own fashion, meaning probably rough earthworks, but there are resolute men behind them, and on the whole Hubber declines the assault, and sits down before the place. There is no spring of water, he hears, within the Saxon lines, and they are otherwise wholly unprepared for a siege. A few days will no doubt settle the matter, and the sword of slavery will be the portion of Odder and the rest of Alfred's men. Meantime there is spoil enough in the camp from Devonshire homesteads, which brave men can revel in round the war-flag raven, while they watch the Saxon ramparts. Odder, however, has quite other views than death from thirst or surrender. Before any stress comes, early one morning, he and his whole force sally out over the earthworks, and from the first cut down the pagans in great numbers. 840 warriors, some say 1200, with Hubber himself are slain before Sinet fought. The rest, few in number, escape to their ships. The war-flag raven is left in the hands of Odder and the men of Devon. This is the news which comes to Alfred, Ethelnoth, the alderman of Sammelset, Denwolf, the swine-herd, and the rest of the Selwood Forest Group, some time before Easter. These men of Devonshire, it seems, are still staunch and ready to peril their lives against the pagan. No doubt up and down Wessex, thrashed and trodden out as the nation is by this time, there are other good men and true, who will neither cross the sea or the Welsh marches nor make terms with the pagan, some sprinkly of men who will yet set life at stake for faith in Christ and love of England. If these can only be rallied, who can say what may follow? So, in the lengthening days of spring, council is held in Selwood, and there will have been Easter services in some chapel, or hermitage, in the forest, or at any rate in some quiet glade. The day of days will surely have had its voice of hope for this poor remnant. Christ is risen and reigns, and it is not in these heathen Danes or in all the Northmen who ever sailed across the sea to put back his kingdom or enslave those whom he has freed. The result is that, far away from the eastern boundary of the forest, on a rising ground – hill, it can scarcely be called – surrounded by dangerous marshes formed by the little rivers Thone and Parrot, fortable only in summer, and even then dangerous to all who have not the secret, a small fortified camp is thrown up, under Alfred's eye, by Ethelnoth and the Somerset sheer men, where he can once again raise his standard. The spot has been chosen by the king with the utmost care, for it is his last throw. He names it the Ethelings Ige or Island, Ethelny. Probably his young son, the Etheling of England, is there among the first, with his mother and his grandmother Iad Berger, the widow of Ethelred Mutil, the venerable lady whom Asa saw in later years, and who has now no country but her daughters. There are, as has been reckoned, some two acres of hard ground on the island, and a round vast breaks of alderbush full of deer and other game. Here the Somerset sheer men can keep up constant communication with him, and a small army grows together. They are soon strong enough to make forays into the open country, and in many skirmishes they cut off parties of the pagans and supplies. "'For even when overthrown and cast down,' says Monsrey, Alfred had always to be fought with, so that, when one would esteem him altogether worn down and broken, like a snake slipping from the hand of him who would grasp it, he would suddenly flash out again from his hiding-place, rising up to smite his foes in the height of their insolent confidence, and never more hard to beat than after a fight. But it was still a trying life at Ethelny. Followers came in slowly, and provender and supplies are hard to ring from the pagan, and harder still to take from Christian men. One day, while it was yet so cold that the water was still frozen, the king's people had gone out to get them fish or fowl, or some such pervance as they sustained themselves with all. No one was left in the royal hut for the moment, but himself and his mother-in-law he had burger. The king, after his constant want, whensoever he had the opportunity, was reading from the Psalms of David, out of the manual which he carried always in his bosom. At this moment a poor man appeared at the door, and begged for a morsel of bread, for Christ his sake, whereupon the king, receiving the stranger as a brother, caught to his mother-in-law to give him to eat. He had burger, and replied that there was but one loaf in their store, and a little wine and a pitcher, a provision wholly insufficient for his own family and people. But the king bade her, nevertheless, to give the stranger part of the last loaf, which she accordingly did. But when he had been served, the stranger was no more seen, and the loaf remained whole, and the pitcher full to the brim. Alfred, meantime, had turned to his reading over which he fell asleep, and dreamt that St. Cuthbert of Lindisfarm stood by him, and told him it was he who had been his guest, that God had seen his afflictions, and those of his people which were now about to end, in tokenware of his people would return that day from their expedition with a great take of fish. The king awakening, and being much impressed with his dream, caught to his mother-in-law, and recounted it to her, who thereupon assured him that she too had been overcome with sleep, and had had the same dream. And while they yet talked together on what had happened so strangely to them, their servants came in, bringing fish enough, as it seemed to them, to have fed an army. The monkish legend goes on to tell that, on the next morning, the king crossed the mainland in a boat, and wound his horn thrice, which drew to him before noon, five hundred men. What we may think of the story and the dream, as Sir John Spellman says, is not here very much material, seeing that whether we deem it natural or supernatural, the one as well as the other serves at God's appointment by raising or dejecting of the mind with hopes or fears to lead man to the resolution of those things whereupon he has ordained the event. Alfred, we may be sure, was ready to accept and be thankful for any help, let it come from whence it might, and soon after Easter it was becoming clear that the time is at hand for more skirmishing expeditions. Through all the neighbouring counties word is spreading that their hero king is alive and on foot again, and that there will be another chance for brave men ere long of meeting once more these scourges of the land under his leading. A popular legend is found in the later chroniclers, which relates that at this crisis of his fortunes, Alfred not daring to rely on any evidence but that of his own senses, as to the numbers, disposition, and discipline of the pagan army, assumed the garb of a minstrel, and with one attendant visited the camp of Guthrum. Here he stayed, showing tricks and making sport, until he had penetrated to the king's tents, and learned all that he wished to know, and satisfying himself as to the chances of a sudden attack, he returns to Athelmy, and the time having come for a great effort, if his people will but make it, sends round messengers to the aldermen, and the king's thanes of neighbouring shires, giving them a trist for the seventh week after Easter, the second week in May. On or about the twelfth of May, 878, King Alfred left his island in the great wood, and his wife and children, and such household gods as he had gathered round him there, and came publicly forth among his people once more, riding to Egbert's stone, probably Brixton, on the east of Selwood, a distance of twenty-six miles, here met him, the men of the neighbouring shires, and when they saw their king alive after such great tribulation, they received him, as he merited, with joy and acclamation. The gathering had been so carefully planned by Alfred, and the nobles who had been in conference or correspondence with him at Athelmy, that the Saxon host was organised, and ready for immediate action, on the very day of muster. Whether Alfred had been his own spy, we cannot tell, but it is plain that he knew well what was passing in the pagan camp, and how necessary swiftness and secrecy were to the success of his attack. According to a Somerset sheer tradition, the signal for the actual gathering of the West Saxons, at Egbert's stone, was given by a beacon lighted on the top of Sturton Hill, where Alfred's tower now stands. Such a beacon would be hidden from the Danes, who must have been encamped about Westbury, by the range of the Wilkshire Hills, while it would be visible to the west over the Low Country, towards the Bristol Channel, and to the south far into Dorsetshire. Not an hour was lost by Alfred at the place of muster. The bands which came together there were composed of men well used to arms, each band under its own alderman, or Reeve. The small army he had himself been disciplining at Athelmy, and training in skirmishes during the last few months, would form a reliable centre on which the rest would have to form as best they could. So after one day's halt he breaks up his camp at Egbert's stone, and marches to Idlia, now called Clay Hill, an important height, commanding the Vale to the north of Westbury, which the Danish army were now occupying. The day's march of the army would be a short five miles, hear the annals record that St. Neat, his kinsman, appeared to him, and promised that on the morrow his misfortunes would end. After resting one night on Clay Hill, Alfred led out his men in close order of battle against the pagan host, which lay at Ethendoon. Guthram fought to protect Chippenham, his base of operations, some sixteen miles in his rear, and all the accumulated plunder of the busy months, which had passed since twelfth night, and it is clear that his men behaved with the most desperate gallantry. The fight began at noon, and lasted through the greater part of the day, warned by many previous disasters, the Saxons never broke their close order, and so, though greatly outnumbered, hurled back again and again the onslaughts of the Northmen. At last Alfred and his Saxons prevailed, and smote his pagan foes with a very great slaughter, and pursued them up to their fortified camp on Bratton Hill, or Edge, into which the great body of the fugitives threw themselves. All who were left outside were slain, and the great spoil was all recovered. The camp may still be seen, called Bratton Castle, with its double ditches and deep trenches, and barrow in the midst, sixty yards long, and its two entrances guarded by mounds. It contains more than twenty acres, and commands the whole countryside. There can be little doubt that this camp, and not Chippenham, which is sixteen miles away, was the last refuge of Guthram, and the great Northern Army on Saxon soil. So, in three days from the breaking up of his little camp at Athelney, Alfred was once more King of all England south of the Thames, for this army of pagans shut up within their earthworks on Bratton Edge, are little better than a broken and disorderly rabble, with no supplies, and no chance of succour from any quarter. Nevertheless, he will make sure of them, and so Bratton camp is strictly besieged by Alfred, with his whole power. It is a matter of a few days only, for food runs short at once in the besieged camp. At the end of fourteen days he sends to Alfred suing humbly for terms of any kind, offering on the part of the army as many hostages as may be required, without asking for any in return, once again giving solemn pledges to quit Wessex for good, and above all declaring his own readiness to receive baptism. Alfred accepts Guthram's preferred terms at once, rejoicing over the chance of adding these fierce heathen warriors to the church of his master by an act of mercy which even they must feel. The ceremony of baptism was performed at Wedmore, a royal residence which had probably escaped the fate of Chippenham, and still contained a church. Here Guthram and his thirty nobles were sworn in, the soldiers of a greater than Woden, and the white linen cloth the sign of their new faith was bound round their heads. Alfred himself was Godfather to the Viking, giving him the Christian name of Ethelstan, and the chrism loosening or unbinding of the sacramental cloths was performed on the eighth day by Ethelnoth, the faithful alderman of Somersetshire. After the religious ceremony there still remained the task of settling the terms upon which the victors, and vanquished, were hereafter to live together side by side in the same island. For Alfred had the wisdom, even in his enemy's humiliation, to accept the accomplished fact, and to acknowledge East Anglia as a Danish kingdom. The Witten Agamot had been summoned to Wedmore, and was sitting there, and with their advice the treaty was then made, from which, according to some historians, English history begins. End of Section XXI One Rule for Angle and for Dane, about 1016, by Otterly A. Lillian Crantz Encircled by a marshal throng, so massed and indistinct that they made a background like embroidered tapestry, three figures were the centre of attraction, the figure of the young king in his raised chair, and the forms of the dane and the angle who fronted each other before his foot stall. Shielded from the heat by his palm, Canute's face was in the shadow, and the giant shape of the sun of Lodbroke was a blot against the flames, but the glare lay strong on the seabird of Iverstale, revealing a picture that caused one spectator to catch a breath in a sob. Equally aloof from English Thane and Danish Noble, the ethyling in the palace of his native king stood a stranger and alone, while his swordless sheath showed him to be also a prisoner. He bore himself proudly. One of his blood could scarcely have done otherwise, but his fine face was white with misery, and despair darkened his eyes, and they stared unseemly before him. As well as though he had put his thoughts into words, the girl who loved him knew that his mind was back in the peaceful manner between the hills, foreseeing its desecration by barbarian hands, foretasting the ruin of those who looked to him for protection. From the twilight of the balcony she stretched out her arms to him in a passion of yearning pity, and all of selfishness that had been in her grief faded from it utterly as her heart sent forth a second prayer. Oh, thou God, forget what I asked for myself. Think only of helping him, of comforting him, and I will love thee as though thou hadst done it to me. Help him! Help him!" Answering a question from the king, Rothgar began to speak. His heavy voice seemed to fill all the space from floor to ceiling. By all the laws of war, King Canute, the Odell of Iverstale would come to me. The first son of Lodbroke took the land before ever this Angleskin had seen it. He built the tower that stands on it, and the name it bears to this day is the name of his giving. Under Gothram a weak-need son of his lost it to the English Alfred, and we fell out of our fortunes with the tipping of the scales, and Angles have sat since then in the seat of Lodbroke's sons. But now the scales have risen again. Under Canute Iverstale, with all other English property, comes back to Danish hands. By all the laws of war my kinsman's inheritance should be my share of the spoil. Ending roundly he drew himself up in an attitude of bold assurance. Wherever a group of scarlet cloaks made a bright patch upon the human heiress there was a flutter of approval. Even the braver of the English nobles, who for race-pride alone might have supported Siebert in a valid claim, saw nothing to do now but to draw away, with a silent interchange of shrugs and head-shakes, and leave him to his doom. In the shadow of his hand Canute nodded slowly. By all the laws of war, he affirmed, your kinsman's inheritance should be your share of the spoil. Again an approving murmur rose from Danish throats, and Rothgaard was opening his lips to voice a grateful answer, when a gesture of the royal hand checked him. Recollect, however, that just now I am not only a war-chief, but also a law-man. I think it right, therefore, to hear what the Englishman has to say for his side. Siebert, Oddwardson, speak in your defence. Not even a draft appeared to stir the human tapestry about them. Siebert started like a man, awakened from sleep, when he realised that every eye was hanging upon him. Swiftly his glance passed around the circle, from the averted faces of his countrymen, to the foreign master on the throne. Then bitterly he bent his head to his fate. I have nothing to say. Your justice may most rightly be meted out. Nothing to say? The king's measured voice sounded sharply through the hush, for the first time he lowered his hand, and bent forward where the fire-glow could touch him. As she caught sight of his face, Elf Giver shrank and clutched at her woman. Ah, saints, I am thankful now that it is dark, she murmured. Siebert sustained the look with proud steadiness. Nothing that would be of use to me, he said, and I do not choose to pleasure you by setting up a weak plea for you to knock down again. The right which gives Britain to the Saxons has given England to the Danes, and it is not by words that such a right can be disputed. If your messengers had not taken me by surprise, he paused, with an odd curl to his lips, that could hardly be called a smile. But Canute gave him grim command to finish, and he obeyed with rising colour. If your messengers had not come upon me as eyes riding on the Watling Street, and brought me here, a prisoner, I would have argued the matter with arrows, and you would needs have battered down the defence of stone walls to convince me. Mutters of mingled admiration, censure, buzzed around, and one English noble, more daring, and also more friendly than others, drew near and spoke a word of friendly warning in Siebert's ear. Through it all Canute sat motionless, seeing the ethyling with his bright, colourless eyes. At last he said, unexpectedly, If you would not obey my summons until my men had dealt with you by force, it cannot be said that you have much respect for my authority. Do you not then acknowledge me as king of the English? Rothgaard betrayed impatience at this branching aside, Siebert showed surprise. He said, hesitatingly, I cannot deny that, you have the same right that Sirdic had over the Britons, nay, you have more, for you are the formal choice of the Witten. I cannot rightly deny that you are the king of the Angles. If you acknowledge me to be that, Canute said, I do not see why you have not an argument for your defence. While all stirred at him, he rose slowly and stood before them, a dazzling figure as the light caught the steel of his ring-mail, and turned his polished helm to a fiery dome. Siebert Ostwilson, he said slowly, I did not feel much love toward you the first time I saw you, and it is hard for me not to hate you now, when I see what you are going to be the cause of. If your case had come before Canute the man, you would receive the answer you expect. But it is your luck that Canute the man is dead, and you stand before Canute the king. Here, then, my answer, by all the laws of war, the land belongs to Ivar's son, and had he regained it while war ruled, I had not taken it from him, though the Witten itself commanded me. But instead of regaining it, he lost it. He stretched a forbidding hand towards Rothgar, feeling without seeing his angry impulse. By what means matters but, battles have turned on a smaller thing, and the loyalty of those we have protected is a lawful weapon to defend ourselves with. The kinsman of Ivar a second time lost his inheritance, and the opportunity passed forever. For now it is time to remember that this is not war but peace, and in times of peace it is not allowed to take a man's land from him unless he has broken the law or offended honour which no one can say this Englishman has done. What concerns war-time is a thing by itself. As ruler over laws and land-rights I cannot give one man's lands to another, though the one may be a man I little care for, and the other is my foster-brother. Go back, therefore, unhindered, Lord of Ivar's Dale, and live in peace henceforth. I do not think it probable that I shall ever call you to my friendship. But when the time comes that there is a need of a brave and honest man to serve the English people in serving me I shall send for you. Beware you that you do not neglect the summons of one whom you have acknowledged to be your rightful king. Orvar, I want you to restore to him his weapon and see him on his way in safety. Your life shall answer for any harm that comes to him. With one hand he struck down the murmur that was rising. With the other he made an urgent gesture of haste which Orvar seemed to understand. Even while he was returning to the Lord of Ivar's Dale his sword he seized him by the arm and hurried him down the room, the ethyling walking like a man in a dream. From the dusk of the rafters the girl who loved him stretched out her hands to him in tender farewell, but there was no more of anguish in her gesture. Gazing after him the tears rose slowly in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks, but on her mouth was a little smile whose wandering joy mounted to exaltation. No need was there for her to hide either tear or smile, for no one of the women about her was so much conscious of her existence. The murmur below was growing, despite the king's restraining hand, and now crashing through it in hideous discord came a burst of jeering laughter from the Jotun. What words he also spoke they could not catch, but they heard the Danish cries sink and die aghast, and they saw a score of English thanes spring upon him and drag him backwards. Above the noise of their scuffling the king's voice sounded stern and cold. While I act as lawman in my judgment hall I will hear no disputing by judgements. Whoso comes to me in my private chamber as friend to friend may tell his mind, but now I speak as king, and what I have spoken shall stand. Struggling with those who would have forced him from the room, Rothgar had no breath to retort with, but the words did not go unsaid because of that. Wherever scarlet cloaks made a bright patch the human aris swayed and shook violently, and then fell apart into groups of angry men whose voices rose in resentful chorus. Such judgment by a Danish king is unexampled. King, are we all to expect this treatment? This is the third time you have ruled against your own men. Sven, you punished for the murder of an Englishman, because you forced Gorm to pay his debt to an Englishman. He has lost all the property he owns. Now as before we want to know what this means. You are our chief, whose kingship we have held up with our lives. What are these English to you? They are the thralls your sword has laid under while we are of your own blood. It is the strong will of us warriors to know what you mean. Yes, tell it plainly. We speak as we have a right. Snarling more and more openly they surged forward closing around the dice in a fiery mass. In the cushions of the balcony Leonora hid her face with a cry. They will murder him, and Elf give a rose slowly from her chair, her eyes dark with horror, yet unable to tear themselves from the scene below. The male-clad king no longer looked to her like a man of flesh and blood, but like a figure of iron and steel that the firelight was wrapping in unendurable brightness. His sword was no more brilliantly hard than his face, and his eyes were glittering points. The ring of steel was in his voice as he answered. You speak as you have a right, but you speak as men who have swine's memories. Was it your support or your courage that won me the English crown? It may be that if I had waited until power and fire you would have done so, but it happened that before that time the English witton gave it to me as a gift, in return for my pledge to rule them justly. My meaning in this judgment, and the others you dislike is, that I am going to keep that pledge. You are my men, and as my men you have supported me, and as my men I have rewarded you. No chief was ever more open-handed with property toward his following, but if you think that on that account I will endure from you trouble and lawlessness, you would better part from me and get into your boats and go back to my other kingdom. For I tell you now, openly and without deceit, that here henceforth there is to be but one rule for Angle and Dane alike, and I shall be as much their king as yours, and they shall share equally in my justice. You may like it or not, but that is what will take place. How they liked it was suggested by bursting roar and the scuffling of many feet as the English leapt forward to protect their new king and the Dane's world to meet them, but the women in the gallery did not wait to see the outcome. In a frenzy of terror Elfgiver dragged up the kneeling maids and herded them through the door. Go! Before they get into the anti-room, she gasped, do you not see that he is no longer human, we should be pleading with Arne. Go! Before they tear down the walls! So Sebert of Iversdale went back to his tower unhindered, and the rest of the winter nights, while the winds of the wolf-month howled about the palisades, he listened undisturbed to his harper, and the rest of the winter days he trod in peace the homely routine of his lordship, in peace and in absent-eyed silence. The old ways are clean fallen out of England, and it becomes a man to consider diligently how he will order his future. He told Hilda Lither and the old knight when they inquired the reason for his abstraction. End of Section 22. Section 23 of England. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Adrian Stevens. The World's Story, Volume 9, England. Edited by Eva March Tapan, Section 23. The Last Danish Invasion, 1066, by Edward Bulwa Lytton. After the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold, Earl of Wessex was elected king. William of Normandy averred that Edward had promised him the crown, which in any case he had no right to do, that he should defend his claim. His preparations, however, took many months, and in the meantime, Harold's brother Tostig encouraged Harold Hadrada, King of Norway, to make an attack upon England, the editor. At the news of this foe on the north side of the land, King Harold was compelled to withdraw all the forces at watch in the south against the Tardy invasion of William. It was the middle of September, eight months at elapsed since the Norman had launched forth his vaunting threat. Would he now dare to come? Come or not, that foe was afar, and this was in the heart of the country. Now York having thus capitulated, all the land round was humbled and awed, and Hadrada and Tostig were blithe and gay, and many days thought they must pass, ere Harold the King can come from the south to the north. The camp of the Norsemen was at Stamford Bridge, and that day it was settled that they should formally enter York. Their ships lay in the river beyond. A large portion of the armament was with the ships. The day was warm, and the men with Hadrada had laid aside their heavy mail, and were making merry, talking of the ponder of York during a Saxon valour and gloating over thoughts of the Saxon maids whom Saxon men had failed to protect, when suddenly between them and the town rose and rolled a great cloud of dust. High it rode, and fast it rolled, and from the heart of the cloud shone the spear in the shield. What army comes yonder? said Harold Hadrada. Surely, answered Tostig, it comes from the town that we are a to enter as conquerors, and can be but the friendly Northumbrians who have deserted Morcau for me. Nearer and nearer came the force, and the shine of the arms was like the glancing of ice. Advance the world, Ravager, cried Harold Hadrada, draw up into arms. Then picking out three of his briskest youths, he dispatched them to the force on the river, with orders to come up quick to the aid, for ready through the cloud and amidst the spears was seen the flag of the English king. On the previous night King Harold had entered York, unknown to the invaders, appeased the mutiny, cheered the town's folks, and now came like the thunderbolt born by the winds to clear the air of England from the clouds of the North. Both armaments drew up in haste, and Hadrada formed his array in the form of a circle, the line long but not deep, its wings curving round they met, shield to shield. Those who stood in the first rank set their spearshafts on the ground, the points level with the breast of a horseman, those in the second with spears yet lower, level with the breast of a horse, thus forming a double palisade against the charge of cavalry. In the centre of this circle was placed the Ravager of the world, and rounded a rampart of shields. Behind that rampart was the accustomed post at the onset of battle for the king and his bodyguard, but Tostig was in front with his own Northumbrian lion banner and his chosen men. While this army was thus being formed the English king was marshalling his force in the far more formidable tactics which his military science had perfected from the warfare of the Danes. That form of battalion, invincible hitherto under his leadership, was in the manner of a wedge or triangle, so that, in attack, the men marched on the foe presenting the smallest possible surface to the missiles, and, in defence, all three lines faced the assailants. King Harold cast his eye over the closing lines, and then turning to Goethe, who, read by his side, said, Take one man from young hostile army, and with what joy should we charge on the Northmen? I conceive thee, answered Goethe mournfully, and the same thought of that one man makes my arm feel pulsed. The king mused and drew down the nasal bar of his helmet. Thanes, he said suddenly, to the score of riders who'd grouped around him, follow, and shaking the reign of his horse, King Harold rode straight to that part of the hostile front from which rose, above the spears, the Northumbrian banner of Tostig. Wondering, but mute, the twenty Thanes followed him. Before the grim array, and hard by Tostig's banner, the king checked his steed, and cried, Is Tostig the son of Godwin and Githa by the flag of the Northumbrian earldom? With his helmet raised, and with his Norwegian mantle flowing over his mail, Earl Tostig rode forth at that voice, and came up to the speaker. What wouldst thou with me, daring foe? The Saxon horseman paused, his deep voice trembled tenderly as he answered slowly. Thy brother King Harold sends to salute thee, let not the sons from the same womb wage unnatural war in the soil of their fathers. What will Harold, the king, give to his brother? answered Tostig. Northumbria already have been bestowed on the son of his house's foe. The Saxon hesitated, and a rider by his side took up the word. If the Northumbrians will receive thee again, Northumbria shout thou have, and the king will bestow his late earldom of Wessex on Morkar. If the Northumbrians reject thee, thou shalt have all the lordships which King Harold hath promised to girth. This is well, answered Tostig, and he seemed to pause, as in doubt. When made aware of this parley, King Harold Hadrada, on his coal-black steed, with his helm all shining with gold, rode from the lines and came into hearing, Ha! said Tostig then, turning round, as the giant form of the Norse king threw its vast shadow over the ground. And if I take the offer, what will Harold, son of Godwin, give to my friend and ally, Hadrada of Norway? The Saxon rider reared his head at these words, and gazed on the large front of Hadrada, as he answered loud and distinct. Seven feet of land for a grave, or seeing that he is taller than other men, as much more as his course may demand. Then go back, and tell Harold my brother to get ready for battle, for neither shall the scalds and the warriors of Norway say that Tostig lured their king in his cause to betray him to his foe. Here did he come, and here came I, to win as the brave win, or die as the brave die. A rider of younger and sleighter form than the rest here whispered the Saxon king, delay no more, or thy men's hearts will fear treason. The tires rent from my heart, O Hacco, answered the king, and the heart flies back to our England. He waved at his hand, turned his steed, and rode off. The eye of Hadrada followed the horseman. And who, he asked calmly, is that man who spoke so well? King Harold, answered Tostig briefly, how, cried the Norseman, reddening, how was not that made known to me before? Never should he have gone back, never told hereafter the doom of this day. With all his ferocity, his envy, his grudge to Harold, and his treason to England, some rude notions of honour still lay confused in the breast of the Saxon. And he answered stoutly, imprudent was Harold's coming, and great his danger, but he came to offer me peace and dominion, had I betrayed him, I had not been his foe but his murderer. The Norse king smiled approvingly, and turned to his chief, said dryly, that man was shorter than some of us, but he rode firm in his stirrups. And then this extraordinary person who united in himself all the types of an age that vanished for other in his grave, and who is the more interesting, as in him we see the race from which the Normans sprung, began in the rich, full voice that peeled deep as an organ, to taunt his impromptu war song. He halted in the midst, and with great composure said, That verse is but ill-tuned, I must try better. He passed his hand over his brow, mused an instant, and then, with his fair face all illumined, he burst forth as inspired. This time air, rhythm, words, also chimed in with his own enthusiasm, and that of his men, that the effect was inexpressible. It was, indeed, like the charm of those runes which are said to have maddened the berserker with the frenzy of war. Meanwhile the Saxon phalanx came on, slow and firm, and in a few minutes the battle began. It commenced first with the charge of the English cavalry, never numerous, led by Leofwein and Hakko, but the double palisade of the Norman spears formed an impassable barrier, and the horsemen, recoiling from the freeze, rode round the iron circle without other damage than the spear and javelin could effect. Meanwhile King Harold, who had dismounted, marched, as was his want, with the body of footmen. He kept his post in the hollow of the triangular wedge, whence he could best issue his orders. Avoiding the side over which Tostik presided, he halted his array in the full centre of the enemy, where the ravager of the world, streaming high above the inner rampart of the shields, showed the presence of the giant Hardrada. The air was now literally darkened with the flights of arrows and spears, and in a war of missives, the Saxons were less skilled than the Norsemen. Still King Harold restrained the ardour of his men, who, saw Harris by the darts, yearned to close on the foe. He himself, standing on a little eminence, more exposed than his meanest soldier, deliberately eyed the sallies of the horse, and watched the moment he foresaw, when, encouraged by his own suspense, and the feeble attacks of the cavalry, the Norsemen would lift their spears from the ground, and advance themselves to the assault. That moment came, unable to withhold their own fiery zeal, stimulated by the trump and the clash and the war hymns of their king, and his choral sculls, the Norsemen broke ground and came on. To your axes and charge, cried Harold, and passing at once from the centre to the front, he led on the array. The impetus of that artful phalanx was tremendous. It pierced through the ring of the Norwegians. It clove into the ramparts of shields, and King Harold's battle-axe was the first that shivered that wall of steel. His step, the first that strode to the innermost circle that guarded the ravager of the world. Then forth from under the shade of that great flag came, himself also on foot, Harold Hardrada, shouting and chanting. He leapt with long strides into the thick of the onslaught. He had flung away his shield, and swaying with both hands his enormous sword, he hewed down man after man, till space grew clear before him, and the English, recoiling in awe before an image of heightened strength that seemed superhuman, left but one form standing firm, and in front to oppose his way. At that moment the whole strife seemed not to belong to an age comparatively modern. It took a character of remotest eld, and Thor and Odin seemed to have returned to the earth. Behind this towering and titan warrior, their wild hair streaming long under their helms, came his sculpts, all singing their hymns, drunk with the madness of battle, and the ravager of the world tossed and flapped as it followed, so that the vast raiment depicted on its folds seemed horrid with life, and calm and alone his eye watchful, his ax lifted, his foot ready for rush or for spring, but firm as an oak against flight stood the last of the Saxon kings. Down bounded Hardrada, and down shore his sword, King Harold Shield was cloven in two, and the force of the blow brought himself to his knee, but as swift as the flash of that sword he sprang to his feet, and while Hardrada still bowed his head, not recovered from the force of the blow, the axe of the Saxon came so full on his helmet that the giant reeled dropped his sword and staggered back. His sculpts and his chiefs rushed around him. That gallant stand of King Harold saved his English from flight, and now as they saw him almost lost in the throng, yet still cleaving his way on, on, to the raven standard they rallied with one heart, and shouting forth, out, out, holy cross, force their way to his side, and the fight now raged hot and equal, hand to hand. Meanwhile Hardrada, born a little apart, and relieved from his dinted helmet, recovered the shock of the weight his blow that had ever dimmed his eye, and numbed his hand. Tossing the helmet on the ground, his bright locks glittering like sunbeams, he rushed back to the mele. Again, helm and mail went down before him, again through the crowd he saw the arm that had smitten him, again he sprang forward to finish the war with a blow, when a shaft from some distant bow pierced the throat which the cask now left bare, a sound like the whale of a death-song murmured brokenly from his lips, which then gushed out with blood, and tossing up his arms wildly he fell to the ground a corpse. At that sight a yell of such terror and woe, and wrath all commingled, broke from the Norsemen, that it hushed the very war for the moment. On! cried the Saxon king, let our earth take its spoiler, on to the standard, and the day is our own. On to the standard! cried Hakko, who, his horse slain under him, or bloody with wounds not his own, now came to the king's side. Grim and tall rose the standard, and the streamer shrieked and flapped in the wind as if the raven had voice when right before Harold, right between him and the banner, stood Tostig, his brother, known by the splendour of his mail, the goldwork on his mantle, known by the fierce laugh, and defying voice, what matters! cried Hakko, strike, O king, for thy crown! Harold's hand gripped Hakko's arm convulsively, he lowered his axe, turned around, and passed shudderingly away. Both armies now paused from the attack, for both were thrown into great disorder, and each gladly gave respite to the other to reform its own shattered array. The Norsemen were not soldiers to yield, because their leader was slain, rather the more resolute to fight, since revenge was now added to Valor, yet, but for the daring and promptness with which Tostig had cut his way to the standard, the day had already been decided. During the pause Harold summoned Goeth and said to him in great emotion, for the sake of nature, for the love of God, go, O Goeth, go to Tostig, urge him now, hadradar is dead, urge him to peace, all that we can proffer with honour, proffer, quarter and free retreat to every Norsemen, O save me, save us from a brother's blood! Goeth lifted his helmet, kissed the bare hand that grasped his own. I go, said he, and so, bare-headed, and with a single trumpeter, he went to the hostile lines. Harold awaited him in great agitation, nor could any man have guessed what bitter and awful thoughts lay in that heart, from which, in the way to power, tie after tie had been wrenched away. He did not wait long, and even before Goeth rejoined him, he knew by a unanimous shout of fury to which the clash of countless shields chimed in that the mission had been in vain. Tostig had refused to hear Goeth save in presence of the Norwegian chiefs, and when the message had been delivered, they all cried, we would rather fall one across the corpse of the other than leave a field in which our king was slain. You hear them, said Tostig, as they speak, speak I. Not mine this guilt too, O God! said Harold, solemnly lifting his hand on high, now then, to duty. By this time the Norwegian reinforcements had arrived from the ships, and this for a short time rendered the conflict that immediately ensued uncertain and critical. But Harold's generalship was now as consummate as his valour had been daring. He kept his men true to their irrefragable line, even if fragments splintered off, each fragment threw itself into the form of the resistless wedge. One Norwegian standing on the bridge of Stamford, long guarded that pass, and no less than forty Saxons are said to have perished by his arm. To him the English king sent generous pledge, not only of safety for the life but honour for the valour. The Viking refused to surrender, and it fell at last by a javelin from the hand of Hakko. As if in him had been embodied the unyielding war-god of the Norsemen, in that death died the last hope of the Vikings. They fell literally where they stood, many from sheer exhaustion and the weight of their mail died without a blow, and in the shades of nightfall Harold stood amidst the shattered rampart of shields, his foot on the corpse of the standard bearer, his hand on the ravager of the world. My brother's corpse is borne yonder, said Hakko in the air of the king, as wiping the blood from his sword he plunged it back into the sheath. Young Olaf, the son of Hardrada, had happily escaped the slaughter. A strong detachment of the Norwegians had still remained with the vessels, and amongst them some prudent old chiefs, who, foreseeing the probable results of the day, and knowing that Hardrada would never quit, savers a conqueror or a corpse, the field on which he had planted the ravager of the world, had detained the prince almost by force from sharing the fate of his father. But ere those vessels could put out to see, the vigorous measures of the Saxon king had already intercepted the retreat of the vessels, and then, ranging their shields as a wall round their masts, the bold Vikings at least determined to die as men. But with the morning came King Harold himself to the banks of the river, and behind him with trailed lances a solemn procession that bore the body of the scald king. They halted on the margin, and a boat was launched towards the Norwegian fleet, bearing a monk who demanded the chiefs to send a deputation, headed by the young prince himself, to receive the corpse of their king, and to hear the proposals of the Saxon. The Vikings, who had anticipated no preliminaries to the massacre they awaited, did not hesitate to accept these overtures. Twelve of the most famous chiefs still surviving, and Olaf himself, entered the boat, and standing between his brother's leoth wine and girth, Harold thus accosted them. Your king invaded a people that had given him no offence. He has paid the forfeit. We wore not with the dead. Gift to his remains the honors due to the brave. Without ransom or condition we yield to you what can no longer harm us. And for thee, young prince, continued the king, the tone of pity in his voice, as he contemplated the stately boyhood, and proud but deep grief on the face of Olaf, for thee wilt thou not live to learn that the wars of Odin are treason to the faith of the cross? We have conquered, we dare not butcher. Take such ships as ye need for those that survive. Three and twenty I offer for your transport. Return to your native shores, and guard them as we have guarded ours. Are ye contented? Among those chiefs was a stern priest, the bishop of the Orcades. He advanced and bent his knee to the king. O Lord of England, said he, yesterday thou didst conquer the form, today the soul, and nevermore may generous northmen invade the coast of him who honors the dead and spares the living. Amen! cried the chiefs. And they all knelt to Harold. The young prince stood a momenty resolute, for his dead father was on the beer before him, and revenge was yet a virtue in the heart of a sea-king. But lifting his eyes to Harold's, the mild and gentle majesty of the Saxon brow was irresistible in its benign command. And stretching his right hand to the king, he raised on high the other, and said aloud, Faith and friendship with thee and England evermore. Then all the chiefs rising, they gathered round the beer, but no hand in the sight of the conquering foe lifted the cloth of gold that covered the corpse of the famous king. The bearers of the beer moved on slowly towards the boat. The Norwegians followed with measured funereal steps. And not till the beer was placed on board the royal galley, was there heard the wail of woe, but then it came loud and deep and dismal, and was followed by a burst of wild song from a surviving sculled. The Norwegian preparations for departure were soon made, and the ships vouchsafe to their convoy, raised anchor, and sailed down the stream. Harold's eye watched the ships from the river-banks. And there, he said at last, there glide the last sails that shall ever bear the devastating raven to the shores of England. End of section 23. This recording is in the public domain. Section 24 of England, read for LibroVox.org by Sara Hale. England, part four, The Norman Conquest, historical note. In 1066 the English king Edward the Confessor died. His mother was of Norman birth, and he himself had spent many years in Normandy. Among his friends in that country was his young cousin, Duke William. And to him, Edward promised to bequeath his crown. But Earl Harald of England was the choice of the English people, and him they made their king. When William heard this, he at once prepared to invade England and sent Harold the length and breadth of Europe, offering good fighting and a fair share in the plunder to who so would aid him in resting England for Earl Harald. In the meantime England was in danger from another quarter, for Harald's brother, Toastick, persuaded King Harold Har Drada of Norway to lead a blundering expedition against her shores. As Stemford Bridge, the northern invaders were met and defeated by Harald. But in the meantime William and his army of adventurers had crossed the channel and landed in England. Hastening south, with his battle-worn army, Harald met the Normans on the 14th day of October, in the year 1066, on the fatal field of Hastings. By Christmas day of the same year, the Saxon chiefs that were left alive had sullenly submitted to William the Conqueror, and he was crowned King of England. The first five years of William's reign were spent in stamping out the last embers of Saxon resistance. This done, he turned his attention to administrating the realm he had won, and before his death, in 1087, he had remodeled the English church, cut away the power of the great nobles, completed a survey of all the states of England, and recorded their ownership in the famous Doomsday book. End of Section 24. This recording is in the public domain. Section 25 of England. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The World's Story, Volume 9, England edited by Eva March Tappan. Section 25, The Battle of Hastings, 1066 by Robert Wase. The English had built up a fence before them with their shields and with ash and other wood, and had well joined and waddled in the whole work, so as not to leave even a crevice. And thus they had a barricade in their front, through which any Norman who would attack them must first pass. Being covered in this way by their shields and barricades, their aim was to defend themselves, and if they had remained steady for that purpose, they would not have been conquered that day. For every Norman who made his way in lost his life, either by hatchet or bill, by club or other weapon, they wore short and close halberds and helmets that hung over their garments. King Harold issued orders and made proclamation round that all should be ranged with their faces towards the enemy, and that no one should move from where he was, so that whoever came might find them ready, and that whatever anyone, be he Norman or other, should do, he should do his best to defend his own place. Then he ordered the men of Kent to go where the Normans were likely to make the attack, for they say that the men of Kent are entitled to strike first, and that whenever the king goes to battle, the first blow belongs to them. The right of the men of London is to guard the king's body, to place themselves around him, and to guard his standard, and they were accordingly placed by the standard to watch and defend it. When Harold had made his reply, and given his orders, he came into the midst of the English, and dismounted by the side of the standard. Leof Wain and Girt, his brothers, were with him, and around him he had barons enough, as he stood by his standard, which was in truth a noble one sparkling with gold and precious stones. After the victory, William sent it to the Pope to prove and commemorate his great conquest and glory. The English stood in close ranks, ready and eager for the fight, and they, moreover, made a faç, which went across the field, guarding one side of their army. Meanwhile, the Normans appeared advancing over the ridge of a rising ground, and the first division of their troops moved onwards along the hill and across the valley. And presently, another division, still larger, came in sight, close, following upon the first, and they were led towards another part of the field, forming together as the first body had done. And while Harold saw and examined them and was pointing them out to Girt, a fresh company came in sight, covering all the plain, and in the midst of them was raised the standard that came from Rome. Near it was the Duke and the best men and greatest strength of the army were there, the good knights, the good vassals, and brave warriors were there, and there were gathered together the gentle barons, the good archers, and the men at arms, whose duty it was to guard the Duke and range themselves around him. The use and common herd of the camp whose business was not to join in the battle but to take care of the harness and stores moved off towards a rising ground. The priests and the clerks also ascended a hill there to offer up prayers to God and watch the event of the battle. The English stood firm on foot in close ranks and carried themselves right boldly. Each man had his hobber thong with his sword Girt and his shield at his neck. Great hatchets were also slung at their necks, with which they expected to strike heavy blows. The Normans brought on the three divisions of their army to attack at different places. They set out in three companies and in three companies did they fight. The first and second had come up and then advanced the third, which was the greatest, with that came the Duke with his own men and all moved boldly forward. As soon as the two armies were in full view of each other, great noise and tomb altar rose, you might hear the sound of many trumpets of bugles and of horns, and then you might see men ranging themselves in line, lifting their shields, raising their lances, bending their bows, handling their arrows ready for assault and defense. The English stood steady to their post. The Normans still moved on and when they drew near, the English were to be seen, stirring true and fro, were going and coming, troops ranging themselves in order, some with their color rising, others turning pale, some making ready their arms, others raising their shields, the brave man rousing himself to fight, the coward trembling at the approach of danger. Then Taelifer, who sang right well, rode mounted on a swift horse before the Duke, singing of Charlemagne and the Roland of Olivier and the Piers who died in Ranceval, and when they drew nigh to the English, a boon sire cried, Taelifer, I have long served you and you owe me for all such service today, so please you shall repay it. I ask as my girdon and beseech you for it earnestly that you will allow me to strike the first blow in the battle, and the Duke answered I grant it. Then Taelifer put his horse to a gallop, charging before all the rest and struck an Englishman dead, driving his lance below the breast into his body and stretching him upon the ground. Then he drew his sword and struck another, crying out come on, come on, what do ye, sirs, lay on, lay on. At the second blow he struck, the English pushed forward and surrounded and slew him, forthwith arose the noise and cry of war, and on either side the people put themselves in motion. The Normans moved on to the assault and the English defended themselves well, some were striking, others urging onwards, all were bold and cast aside fear, and now behold that battle was gathered whereof the fame is yet mighty. Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns and the shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of maces and the quick clashing of swords, one while the Englishmen rushed on, another while they fell back, one while the men from over sea charged onwards and again at other times retreated. The Normans shouted, dex ae, the English people out, then came the cunning maneuvers, the rude shocks and strokes of the lances and blows of the swords, among the sergeants and soldiers both English and Norman. When the English fall, the Normans shout, each side taunts and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith, and the Normans say the English bark because they understand not their speech. Some whack strong, others weak, the brave exalt, but the cowards tremble as men who are sore dismayed. The Normans press on the assault and the English defend their post well. They pierce the harbors and cleave the shields, receive and return mighty blows. Again some press forward, others yield, and thus in various ways the struggle proceeds in the plane was a faas, which the Normans had now behind them, having pasted in the fight without regarding it, but the English charged and drove the Normans before them till they made them fall back upon this faas, overthrowing into it horses and men. Many were to be seen falling there, enrolling one over the other with their faces to the earth and unable to rise. Many of the English also, whom the Normans drew down along with them, died there. At no time during the day's battle did so many Normans die as perished in that faas. So those said who saw the dead. The varlots who were set to guard the harness began to abandon it as they saw the loss of the Frenchmen when thrown back upon the faas without power to recover themselves. Being greatly alarmed at seeing the difficulty in restoring order, they began to quit the harness and sought around not knowing where to find shelter. Then Duke William's brother Odo, the good priest, the bishop of Baillot, galloped up and said to them stand fast, stand fast, be quiet and move not, fear nothing for if God please we shall conquer yet. So they took courage and rested where they were and Odo returned galloping back to where the battle was most fierce and was of great service on that day. He had put a hobber gone over a white orb wide in the body with the sleeve tight and set on a white horse so that all might recognize him. In his hand he held the mace and wherever he saw most need he held up and stationed the knights and often urged them on to assault and strike the enemy. From nine o'clock in the morning when the combat began till three o'clock came the battle was up and down this way and that and no one knew who would conquer and win the land. Both sides stood so firm and fought so well that no one could guess which would prevail. The Norman archers with their bows shot thickly upon the English but they covered themselves with their shields so that the arrows could not reach their bodies nor do any mischief how true so ever was their aim or however well they shot. Then the Normans determined to shoot their arrows upwards into the air so that they might fall on their enemy's heads and strike their faces. The archers adopted the scheme and shot up into the air towards the English and the arrows in falling struck their heads and faces and put out the eyes of many and all feared to open their eyes or leave their faces unguarded. The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the wind fast sped the shafts that the English called wire bets. Then it was that an arrow that had thus been shot upwards struck herald above his right eye and put it out in his agony. He drew the arrow and threw it away breaking it with his hands and the pain to his head was so great that he leaned upon his shield. So the English were wont to say and still say to the French that the arrow was well shot which was so sent up against their king and that the archer won them great glory who thus put out herald's eye. The Normans saw that the English defended themselves well and were so strong in their position that they could do little against them. So they consulted together privately and arranged to draw off and pretend to flee till the English should pursue and scatter themselves over the field for they saw that if they could once get their enemies to break their ranks they might be attacked and discomforted much more easily. As they had said so they did the Normans by little and little fled the English following them as the one fell back the other pressed after and when the Frenchman retreated the English thought and cried out that the men of France fled and would never return. Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight and great mischief thereby develop them for if they had not moved from their position it is not likely that they would have been conquered at all but like fools they broke their lines and pursued. The Normans were to be seen following up their stratagem retreating slowly so as to draw the English further on as they still flee the English pursue they pushed out their lances and stretched forth their hatchets following the Normans as they go rejoicing in the success of their scheme and scattering themselves over the plain and the English meantime jeered and insulted their foes with words cowards they cried you came hither in an evil hour wanting our lands and seeking to seize our property fools that were to come. Normandy is too far off and you will not easily reach it it is a little used to run back unless you can cross the sea of the leap or can drink it dry your sons and daughters are lost to you the Normans for it all but in fact they knew not what the English said their language seemed like the baying of dogs which they could not understand at length they stopped and turned round determined to recover their ranks and the barons might be heard crying dex IE for a halt then the Normans resumed their form of position turning their faces towards the enemy and their men were to be seen facing round and rushing onwards to a fresh melee the one party assaulting the other this man striking another pressing onwards one hits another misses one flies another pursues one is aiming a stroke while another discharges his blow Norman strives with Englishman again and aims his blows afresh one flies another pursues swiftly the combatants are many the plain wide the battle and the melee fears on every hand they fight hard the blows are heavy and the struggle becomes fierce the Normans were playing their part well when an English knight came rushing up having in his company a hundred men furnished with various arms he wielded a northern hatchet with the blade a full foot long and was well armed after his manner being tall bold and a noble carriage in the front of the battle where the Normans throng most he came bounding on swifter than the stag many Normans falling before him and his company he rushed straight upon a Norman who was armed and riding on a warhorse and tripped with his hatchet of steel to cleave his helmet but the blow miscarried and a sharp blade glanced down before the saddle boat driving through the horse's neck down to the ground so that both horse and master felt together to the earth I know not whether the Englishman struck another blow but the Normans who saw the stroke were astonished and about to abandon the assault when Roger du Amon Gomorrie came galloping up with his lance set and heeding not the long handled axe which the Englishman wielded the law struck him down and left him stretched upon the ground then Roger cried out Frenchman strike the day is ours and again a fierce melee was to be seen with many a blow of lance and sword the English still defending themselves killing the horses and cleaving the shields there was a French soldier of noble mean who set a source gallantly he spied to Englishmen who were also carrying themselves boldly they were both men of great worth and had become companions in arms and fought together the one protecting the other they bore two long and broad bills and did great mischief to the Normans killing both horses and men the French soldier looked at them in their bills and was so alarmed for he was afraid of losing his good horse the best that he had and would willingly have turned to some other quarter if it would not have looked like cowardice he soon however recovered his courage and spurring his horse gave him the bridle and gallops swiftly forward fearing the two bills he raised his shield and struck one of the Englishman with his lance on the breast so that the iron passed out at his back at the moment that he filled the lance broke and the Frenchman seized the maze that hung at his right side and struck the other Englishman a blow that completely broke his skull on the other side was an Englishman who much annoyed the French continually assaulting them with a keen edged hatchet he had a helmet made of wood which he had fastened down to his coat and laced around his neck so that no blues could reach his head the ravage he was making was seen by a gallant Norman Knight who rode a horse that neither fire nor water could stop in his career when its master urged it on the Knight spurred and his horse carried him on well till he charged the Englishman striking him over the helmet so that it fell down over his eyes and as he stretched out his hand to raise it and uncover the face the Norman cut off his right hand so that his hatchet fell to the ground another Norman sprang forward and eagerly seized the prize with both his hands but he kept it little space and paid dearly for it for as he stooped to pick up the hatchet the Englishman with his long handled axe struck him over the back breaking all his bones so that his entrails and lungs gush forth the Knight of the good horse meantime returned without injury but on his way he met another Englishman and bore him down under his horse wounding him grievously and trampling him to altogether underfoot and now might be heard the loud clang and cry of battle and the clashing of lances the English stood firm in their barricades and shivered the lances beating them into pieces with their bills and maces the Normans drew their swords and hewed down the barricades and the English in great trouble fell back upon their standard where were collected the maimed and wounded there were many knights of Chas who jousted and made attacks the English knew not how to joust or bear arms on horseback but fought with hatchets and bills a man when he wanted to strike with one of their hatchets was obliged to hold it with both his hands and could not at the same time as it seems to me both cover himself and strike with any freedom the English fell back towards the standard which was upon a rising ground and the Normans followed them across the valley attacking them on foot and horseback then hew Mortimer with the Sires de Villiers Don Nabaque and Sainte Claire rode up and charged over throwing many Robert Fitzonaris vixed his lance took his shield and galloping towards the standard with his keen edged sword struck an Englishman who was in front killed him and then drawing back his sword attacked many others and pushed straight for the standard trying to beat it down but the English surrounded it and killed him with their bills he was found on the spot when they afterwards sought for him dead and lying at the standard's foot Duke William pressed close upon the English with his lance driving hard to reach the standard with the great troop he led and seeking earnestly for Harold on whose account the whole war was the Normans followed their lord and pressed around him they plied their blows upon the English and these defend themselves stealthily driving hard with their enemies returning blow for blow one of them was a man of great strength a wrestler who did great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet all feared him before he struck down a great many Normans the Duke spurred on his horse and aimed a blow at him but he steeped and so escaped the stroke then jumping on one side he looked at his hatchet aloft and as the Duke bent to avoid the blow the Englishman boldly struck him on the head and beat in his helmet though without doing much injury he was very near falling however but bearing on his stirrups he recovered himself immediately and when he thought to and have revenged himself upon the trail by killing him he had escaped dreading the Duke's blow he ran back and among the English but he was not safe even there for the Normans seeing him pursued and caught him and having pierced him through and through with their lances left him dead on the ground where the throng of the battle was greatest the men of Kent and Essex fought wondrously well and made the Normans again retreat but without doing them much injury and when the Duke saw his men fall back and the English triumphing over them his spirit rose high and he seized his shield and his lance which a vassal handed to him and took his post by his standard then those who kept close guard by him and rode where he rode being about a thousand on men came and rushed with closed ranks upon the English and with the weight of their good horses and the blows the knights gave broke the press of the enemy and scattered the crowd before them the good Duke leading them on in front many pursued and many fled many were the Englishmen who fell around and were trampled under the horses crawling upon the earth and not able to rise many of the richest and noblest men fell in that route but the English still rallied in places smoked down those whom they reached and maintained the combat the best they could beating down the men and killing the horses when Englishmen watched the Duke and plotted to kill him he would have struck him with his lance but he could not for the Duke struck him first and fell them to the earth loud was now the clamor and grate the slaughter many a soul then quitted the body it inhabited the living marched over the heaps of dead and each side was weary of striking he charged on who could and he who could no longer strike still pushed forward the strong struggled with the strong some failed others triumphed the cowards fell back the brave pressed on and said was his fate who fell in the midst for he had little chance of rising again and many in truth fell who never rose at all being crushed under the flung and now the Normans pressed on so far that at last they had reached the standard there Harold had remained defending himself to the utmost but he was sorely wounded in his eye by the arrow and suffered grievous pain from the blow an armed man came in the throng of the battle and struck him on the ventalia of his helmet and beat him to the ground and as he sought to recover himself a knight beat him down again striking him on the flick of his thigh down to the bone girth saw the English falling around and that there was no remedy he saw his race hastening to ruin and disparate of any aid he would have fled but could not for the throng continually increased and the Duke pushed on till he reached him and struck him with great force whether he died of that blow I know not but it was said that he fell under and rose no more the standard was beaten down the golden standard was taken and Harold and the best of his friends were slain but there was so much eagerness and throng of so many around seeking to kill him that I know not who it was that slew him the English were in great trouble at having lost their king and at the Dukes having conquered and beat down the standard but they still fought on and defended themselves long and in fact till the day drew to a close then it clearly appeared to all that the standard was lost and the news that spread throughout the army that Harold for certain was dead and also that there was no longer any hope so they left the field and those fled who could end of section 25 this recording is in the public domain section 26 of england this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by April 6,090 California United States of America the world's story volume 9 england edited by Eva March Tappen section 26 how the doomsday book was made about 1086 by Edwin Lester Arnold about 12 years after the battle where Harold had died the Norman leader had, we heard, taken it into his head to pull us like a cattle to find the sum and total of our faeces and lands our serfs and orchards and even our very selves now few of us Saxons but felt this was a certain scheme to tax and oppress us even more severely than the people had been oppressed in the time of St. Dunstan besides this our free spirits rose and scorn of being counted and weighed and molted by plebeian emissaries of the usurper so we murmured aloud and long and most things who complained the bitterest were hanged by the derisive Normans on their own kitchen beams on the very same hooks where they cured their mighty sides of pork while those who complied but falsely with the assessor's commands were robbed of wife and heritage children and lands and shackled with the brass collar of serfdom or turned out to beg their living on the wayside and sue the charity of their own dependence whether we would thus be hanged or outcast or whether we would humble us to this hateful need writing ourselves and our serfs down in the great doomsday book all had to choose for my own part after much debating and for the sake of those who looked to me I had determined to do what was required and then if it might be to bring all the sacks and gentlemen together to raise these English shires upon the Normans and with fire and sword revoke our abominable indenture of thralldom but alas my hasty temper and my inability to stomach in affront in any guise undid my good resolutions while this mighty book was being compiled far and wide we heard in every shire there were some men of good standing base enough to countenance it and taking the name of the king's justiciaries they got together shorn monks shoveling rascals who did the writing and computing with Reeves hungry for their masters woodlands and many other lean foresworn villains this jury of miscreants went round from hall to hall from manor to manor with their scripts and pens and parchment until all the land was being gathered into the avaricious Normans tax roll they cast their greedy eyes at last on our sunny and sleeping voe wood though indeed I had implored every deity old or new I could recall that they might overlook it and one day their hireling train of two-score pikemen came ambling down the glades with his fat habit a Norman rascal at their head and pulled up at our doorway hello says the monk whose house is this mine I said gruffly with a secret fancy that there would be some heads broken before the census completed and who are you the master of voe wood what else nothing else well you are not over civil anyhow my Saxon churl said the man of scrolls and goose quills frankly I answered sir monk the smaller civility you look for from me today the less likely you are to be disappointed out with that infernal catechism of yours and have done and move your black shadows from my porch at this the clerk shrugged his shoulders no doubt he did not look to be a very welcome guest and coughed and spit and then unfurled in our free sunshine a great roll of questions and forthwith proceeded to expound them in bastard Latin smacking of multi-cathedral cells and cloister pendentry now mark me sir roe wood and afterward answer truly in everything here first I will read you the declaration of your neighbor the worthy fame swan in order that you may see how the matters should go and then afterward I will question you yourself and taking a parchment from a junior he began here is what swan told us Rex Tene in dominio sohurst Deferma Regis Edwardi Fu don't sit defendant pro septum decumjudus nihil gildervant terrae said a game carcute in dominio sunt tuai caracute effigiente quattro por velani edicum borgiav cum vigente caruques ebi eclisius quom willomis tenant dick rage cum dimilia hida in elamonisa silver quadradienta porcorum eispe ei in parco regis but hardly had my friend got so far as this in displaying the domesticity of sowin the thane where there broke a loud uproar from the rear of voe wood and the tripping latin came to a sudden halt as there emerged in sight a rabble of saxon peasants and norman prickers freely exchanging buffets in the midst of them was our bailiff a very stalwart fellow hauling along and beating as he came a luckless soldier in the foreign garb just then so detestable to our eyes why i said what may all this be about what has the fellow done sven that your saxon cudgel make such friends with his norman cape what why the graceless yonker not content with bursting open the buttery door and setting all these schoolyan men-at-arms drinking my ladies ale and riding among her stores must needs harry the maidens scaring them out of their wits and putting the whole place in an uproar as i am an honest man there has been more good ale spilled this half-hour more pottery broken more linen torn more roasts upset more maids set screaming then since the danes last came around this way and pillaged us from roof to cellar why you fat saxon parker cried the leader of the troops pushing to the front what are you good for but pillage drunk and surf and were it not for the politic heart of yonder king i and mine would make you and your sigan for your danish ravishers looking back from arm mastery to their red fury with sickly longing out on you unhand the youth or by saint bridget there will be a fat carcass for your crows to peck at and he put his hand upon his dagger thereon i stepped between them and touching my jeweled belt said fair sir i think the youth has had no less than his desserts and as for vorwood crows they like norman carrion even better than saxon flesh the soldier frowned as well he might admire retort but before we could draw as assuredly we would have done the monk pushed in between us and the eighthlings of the commission who had orders to carry out their work with peace and dispatch as long as that were possible quieted their unruly rabble and presently a muttering surly order was restored between the glowering crowds now said the scribe propitiatingly anxious to get through with his task you have heard how amiably soian answered of you i will ask a question or two in saxon since likely enough you do not know the blessed latin by the soul of hengis though i knew it before the stones of that confessor's ancient monastery were hewn from their native rock answer truly and all shall be well with you first then how much land hast thou but i could not stand it my spleen was roused against these braggart bullies and throwing discretion to the wind i burst out just so much as serves to keep me in mind in summer and winter and how many plows so many as need to till our corn lands rude bore said the monk backing off into the group of his friends and frowning from that advantage in his turn how many serfs acknowledge your sterly leadership just so many i said boiling over as can work the plows and reap the corn and keep the land from greedy foreign clutches there put up your scroll and be gone i will not answer you i will not say how many pigeons there are in our dove coats how many fowls roost upon their purchase how many earth and pots we have or how many maids to scrub them get you back to the conqueror tell him i derived and laugh at him for the second time say i have lived a longish life and never yet saw the light when i profited by humility say i the swart stranger who stabbed his ruffian courtier and galloped away with the white maid editha of woe would i who plucked that flower from the very saddlebow of his favorite and thundered deriseth through his first camp there on the eastern downs say even i will find a way to keep and wear her in scorn of all that he can do out with you be gone and they went for i was clearly in no mood to be dallied with while behind me the serfs and vassals were now mustering strongly an angry array armed with such weapons as they could snatch up in their haste and wanting but a word or look to fall upon the little band of assessors and slay them as they stood thus we won that hour and many a long day we had to regret the victory ended section twenty-six this recording is in the public domain section twenty-seven of england this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the world's story volume nine england edited by Eva Marsh Tappan section twenty-seven what the English thought of William the Conqueror 1066 1087 from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle if any would know what manner of man King William was the glory that he obtained and of how many lands he was lured then will we describe him as we have known him we who have looked upon him and who once lived in his court this king William of whom we are speaking was a very wise and a great man and more honored and more powerful than any of his predecessors he was mild to those good men who loved God but severe beyond measure towards those who stood his will he founded a noble monastery on the spot where God permitted him to conquer england and he established monks in it and he made it very rich in his days the great monastery at canterbury was built and many others also throughout england moreover this land was filled with monks who lived after the rule of sand benedict and such was the state of religion in his days that all that would might observe that which was prescribed by the respective orders king William was also held in much reverence he wore his crown three times every year when he was in england at Easter he wore it at Winchester at pinnacles at Westminster and at Christmas at Glouyster and at these times all the men of england were with him archbishops bishops abats and earls panes and knights so also was he a very stern and a wrathful man so that none theirs do anything against his will and he kept in prison those earls who acted against his pleasure he removed bishops from their seas and abats from their offices and he imprisoned panes and at length he spared not his own brother Odo this Odo was a very powerful bishop in Normandy his sea was that of Bayou and he was foremost to serve the king he had an earldom in england and when William was in Normandy he was the first man in this country and him did he cast into prison amongst other things the good order that William established is not to be forgotten it was such that any man who was himself out might travel over the kingdom with a bosom full of gold unmolested and no man durst kill another however greed the injury he might have received from him he reigned over england and being sharp-sighted to his own interest he surveyed the kingdom so thoroughly that there was not a single hide of land throughout the whole of which he knew not the processor and how much it was worth and this he afterwards entered in his register the land of the britains footnote welsh end of footnote was under his sway and he built castles therein moreover he had full dominion over the isle of man englesey scotland also was subject to him from his great strength the land of normandy was his by inheritance and he possessed the earldom of main and had he lived two years longer he would have subdued ireland by his prowess and that without a battle truly there was much trouble in these times and very great distress he caused castles to be built and oppressed the poor the king was also of great sternness and he took from his subjects many marks of gold and many hundred pounds of silver and this either with or without right and with little need he was given to avarice and greedly loved gain he made large forest for the deer and enacted laws therewith so that whoever killed a heart or a hind should be blinded as he forbade killing the deer so also the boars and he loved the tools tags as if he were their father he also appointed concerning the hares that they should go free the rich complained and the poor murmur but he was so sturdly that he wrecked note of them they must will all that the king willed if they would live or would keep their lands or would hold their possessions or would be maintained in their rights alas that any man should so exalt himself and carry himself in his pride over all may Almighty God show mercy to his soul and grant him the forgiveness of his sins we have written concerning him these things both good and bad that virtuous men might follow after the good and holy avoid the evil and might go in the way that leadeth to the kingdom of heaven end of section 27 this recording is in the public domain section 28 of england this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the world's story volume 9 england edited by Eva March Dappen section 28 the rescue of the princess of Cornwall by Charles Kingsley herward the wake or herward the watchful headed in 1070 a revolt against the Norman rulers of the land the editor fat was the feasting and loud was the harping in the halls of alas the Cornishman king of greek savory was the smell of fried pilchard and hake more savory still that of roast porpoise most savory of all that of 50 huge squab pies built up of layers of apples bacon onions and mutton not the bottom of each a squab or young cormorant which diffused both through the pie and through the ambient air a delicate odor of mingle guano and pole cat and the occasion was worthy alike of the smell and of the noise for king a left finding that after the ogre's death the neighboring kings were but too ready to make reprisals on him for his champions murders and robberies had made a treaty of alliance offensive and defensive with Hannibal the son of grill king of Mara Zion and had confirmed the same by bestowing on him the hand of his fair daughter whether she approved of the match or not was asked neither by king a left nor by king Hannibal tonight was the bridal feast tomorrow morning the church was to hallow the union and after that Hannibal grill was to lead home his bride among a gallant company and as they ate and drank and harped and piped there came into the hall four shabbily dressed men one of them a short broad fellow with black elf locks and a red beard and sat them down sneakingly at the lowest end of all the benches inhospitable cornwall especially on such a day every guest was welcome and the strangers sat peaceably but ate nothing though there was both hake and pilchard within reach next to them by chance set a great lurdan of a dame as honest brave and stupid a fellow as ever lugged at ore and after a while they felt talking till the strangers had heard the reason of this great feast in all the news of the countryside but whence did they come not to know it already for all cornwall was talking thereof oh they came out of Devonshire seeking service down west with some merchant or rover being seafaring men the stranger with the black hair had been meanwhile earnestly watching the princess who sat at the board's head he saw her watching him in return and with a face sad enough at last she burst into tears what should the bride weep for at such a merry wedding as he of his companions oh cause enough and he told bluntly enough the princess's story and what is more said he the king of waterford sent a ship over last week with 40 proper lads on board and two gallant holders with them to demand her but for all answer they were put into the strong house and there they lie chained to a log at this minute pity it is and shame I hold for I am a dame myself and pity too that such a bonnie lass should go to an unkempt Welshman like this instead of a tight smart Viking son like the waterford lad the stranger answered nothing but kept his eyes upon the princess till she looked at him steadfastly in return she turned pale and read again but after a while she spoke there is a stranger there and what his rank may be I know not but he has been thrust down to the lowest seat in the house that used to honor strangers instead of treating them like slaves let him take this dish from my hand and eat joyfully lest when he goes home he may speak scorn of bridegroom and bride and our cornish weddings the servant brought the dish down he gave a look at the stranger's shabby dress turned up his nose and pretending to mistake put the dish into the hand of the dame hold lads quote the stranger if I have ears that was meant for me he sees the platter with both hands and there with the hands both of the cornishmen and of the dame there was a struggle but so bitter was the stranger's grip that says the chronicler the blood burst from the nails of both his opponents he was called a savage a devil in man's shape and other dainty names but he was left to eat his squab pie in peace patience lads quote he as he filled his mouth before I take my pleasure at this wedding I will hand my own dish round as well as any of you were at men wondered but held their tongues and when the eating was over and the drinking began the princess rose and came round to drink the farewell health with her maids behind her and her harper before her so was the cornish custom she pledged one by one each of the guests slave as well as free while the harper played a tune she came down at last to the strangers her face was pale and her eyes red with weeping she filled a cup of wine and one of her maids offered it to the stranger he put it back courteously but firmly not from your hand said he a growl about his bad manners arose straightway and the menstrual who as often happened in those days was just or likewise made merry at his expense and advised the company to turn the wild beast out of the hall silence fools said the princess why should he know our west country ways he may take it from my hand if not from hers and she held out the cup to him herself he took it looking her steadily in the face and it seemed to the menstrual as if their hands lingered together around the cup handle and that he saw the glitter of a ring like many another of his craft before and since he was a vain metal some vagabond and must needs pry into a secret which certainly did not concern him so he could not leave the stranger in peace and knowing that his privileged calling protected him from that formidable fist he never passed him by without a sneer or a jest as he wandered around the table offering his heart in the cornish fashion to anyone who wished to play and sing but not to you sir elf locks he that is rude to a pretty girl when she offers him wine is too great a bore to understand my trade it is a fool's trick answer the stranger at last to put off what you must do at last if i had but the time i would pay you for your tune with a better one than you ever heard take the harp then bore said the menstrual with a laugh and a jest the stranger took it and drew from it such music as made all heads turn toward him at once then he began to sing sometimes by himself and sometimes his comrades moray jerviorum triplet kitter conentis joined their voices in a three man glee in vain the menstrual jealous for his own credit tried to snatch the harp away the stranger sang on till all hearts were softened and the princess taking the rich shawl from her shoulders threw it over those of the stranger saying that it was a gift too poor for such a scald scald roared the bridegroom now well in his cups from the head of the table asked what thou wilt short of my bride in my kingdom and it is thine give me then Hannibal grills king of Marizeion the danes who came from Renault of waterford you shall have them pity that you have asked for nothing better than such terry ruffians a few minutes later the menstrual bursting with jealousy and rage was whispering in Hannibal's ear the hot old puny footnote Hannibal still a common name in corn wall is held and not unlikely to have been introduced there by the ancient Venetian colonists in the footnote blood flashed up in his cheeks and his thin puny lips curved into a snaky smile perhaps the old puny treachery in his heart for all that he was heard to reply was we must not disturb the good fellowship of a Cornish wedding the stranger nevertheless and the princess likewise had seen that bitter smile men drank hard and long that night and when daylight came the strangers were gone in the morning the marriage ceremony was performed and then began the pageant of leading home the bride the menstruals went first harping and piping then king Hannibal carrying his bride behind him on a pillion and after them a string of servants and men at arms leading country ponies laden with the bride's dower along with them unarmed sulky and suspicious walked the 40 Danes who were informed that they should go to Marizeion and there be shipped off for Ireland now as all men know those parts of Cornwall flat and open furs downs a lot are cut for many miles inland by long branches of Tide River walled in by woods and rocks which rivers joined at last in the great basin of fall myth harbor and by crossing one or more of these the bridal party would save many a mile on their road towards the west so they had timed the journey by the tides lest finding low water in the rivers they should have to wade to the ferry boats waste deep in mud and going down the deep hillside through oak and ash and hazel cops they entered as many as could a great flat bottom barge and were rode across some quarter of a mile to land under a jutting crag and go up again by a similar path into the woods so the first boatload went up the minstrels in front harping and piping till the green wood rang king Hannibal next with his bride and behind him spearsmen and axemen with a dain between every two when they had risen some 200 feet and were in the heart of the forest Hannibal turned and made a sign to the men behind him then each pair of them seized the dain between them and began to bind his hands behind his back what will you do with us send you back to Ireland a king never breaks his word but pick out your right eyes first to show your master how much i care for him lucky for you that i leave you and i appease to find your friend the harper whom if i catch i flay alive you promised cried the princess and so did you traitorous and he gripped her arm which was round his waist till she screamed so did you promise but not to me and you shall pass your bridal night in my dog kennel after my dog whip has taught you not to give rings again to wandering harpers the wretched princess shuttered for she knew too well that such an atrocity was easy and common enough she knew it well why should she not the story of the sids daughters and the knights of carrion the far more authentic one of robert of bell lesma and many another ugly tale of the early middle age will prove but to certainly that before the days of chivalry began neither youth beauty nor the sacred ties of matrimony could protect women from the most horrible outrages at the hands of those who should have been their protectors it was reserved for monks and inquisitors in the name of religion and the gospel to continue through after centuries those brutalities toward women of which gentlemen and knights had grown ashamed save win as in the case of the albicans crusaders monks and inquisitors bad them torture mutilate and burn in the name of him who died on the cross but the words had hardly passed the lips of Hannibal ere he reeled in the saddle and fell to the ground a javelin through his heart a strong arm caught the princess a voice which she knew bad her have no fear bind your horse to a tree for we shall want him and wait three well armed men rushed on the nearest cornish men and hewed them down a fourth unbound the dain and bad him catch up a weapon and fight for his life a second pair were dispatched a second dain freed air a minute was over the cornish men struggling up the narrow path toward the shouts above were overpowered in detail by continually increasing numbers and their half an hour was over the whole party were freed mounted on the ponies and making their way over the downs toward the west noble noble herward said the princess as she sat behind him on Hannibal's horse i knew you from the first moment and my nurse knew you too is she here is she safe i've taken care of that she has done us to good service to be left here and be hanged i knew you in spite of your hair by your eyes yes said herward it is not every man who carries one gray eye and one blue the more difficult for me to go mumbling when i need but how can you hither of all places in the world when you sent your nurse to me last night to warn me that treason was abroad it was easy for me to ask your road to mara xion and easier too when i found that you would go home the very way we came to know that i must make my stand here or nowhere the way you came then where are you going now beyond mara xion to a little cove i cannot tell its name there lies sigtrig your betrothed and three good ships of war there why did he not come for me himself why because he knew nothing of what was toward we meant to have sailed straight up your river to your father's town and taken you out with a high hand we had sworn with an oath which as you saw i kept neither to eat nor drink in your house saved out of your own hands but the easterly winds would not let us round the lizard so we put into that cove and there i and these two lads my nephews offered to go forward as spies while sigtrig threw up an earthwork and made a stand against the cornish we meant merely to go back to him and give him news but when i found you as good as wedded i had to do what i could while i could and i have done it you have my noble and true champion said she kissing him huh quote airward laughing do not tempt me by being too grateful it is hard enough to gather honey like the bees for other folks to eat what if i kept you myself now that i have got you air word oh there is no fear pretty lady i have other things to think of than making love to you and one is how we are to get to our ships and moreover pass mara's eye on town and hard work they had to get there the country was soon roused and up in arms and it was only by wandering a three-day circuit through bogs and moors till the ponies were utterly tired out and left behind the bulkier part of the dowry being left behind with them that they made their appearance on the shore of mounts bay airward leading the princess and triumph upon Hannibal's horse after which they all sailed away for Ireland and there like young by con prepared another wedding with all their hearts so full of glee in section 28 this recording is in the public domain