and of mounds that are the burial-places of heaps of Britons, are
to be seen in almost all parts of the country. Across the bleak
moors of Northumberland, the wall of SEVERUS, overrun with moss and
weeds, still stretches, a strong ruin; and the shepherds and their
dogs lie sleeping on it in the summer weather. On Salisbury Plain,
Stonehenge yet stands: a monument of the earlier time when the
Roman name was unknown in Britain, and when the Druids, with their
best magic wands, could not have written it in the sands of the
wild sea-shore.
CHAPTER II - ANCIENT ENGLAND UNDER THE EARLY SAXONS
THE Romans had scarcely gone away from Britain, when the Britons
began to wish they had never left it. For, the Romans being gone,
and the Britons being much reduced in numbers by their long wars,
the Picts and Scots came pouring in, over the broken and unguarded
wall of SEVERUS, in swarms. They plundered the richest towns, and
killed the people; and came back so often for more booty and more
slaughter, that the unfortunate Britons lived a life of terror. As
if the Picts and Scots were not bad enough on land, the Saxons
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attacked the islanders by sea; and, as if something more were still
wanting to make them miserable, they quarrelled bitterly among
themselves as to what prayers they ought to say, and how they ought
to say them. The priests, being very angry with one another on
these questions, cursed one another in the heartiest manner; and
(uncommonly like the old Druids) cursed all the people whom they
could not persuade. So, altogether, the Britons were very badly
off, you may believe.
They were in such distress, in short, that they sent a letter to
Rome entreating help - which they called the Groans of the Britons;
and in which they said, 'The barbarians chase us into the sea, the
sea throws us back upon the barbarians, and we have only the hard
choice left us of perishing by the sword, or perishing by the
waves.' But, the Romans could not help them, even if they were so
inclined; for they had enough to do to defend themselves against
their own enemies, who were then very fierce and strong. At last,
the Britons, unable to bear their hard condition any longer,
resolved to make peace with the Saxons, and to invite the Saxons to
come into their country, and help them to keep out the Picts and
Scots.
It was a British Prince named VORTIGERN who took this resolution,
and who made a treaty of friendship with HENGIST and HORSA, two
Saxon chiefs. Both of these names, in the old Saxon language,
signify Horse; for the Saxons, like many other nations in a rough
state, were fond of giving men the names of animals, as Horse,
Wolf, Bear, Hound. The Indians of North America, - a very inferior
people to the Saxons, though - do the same to this day.
HENGIST and HORSA drove out the Picts and Scots; and VORTIGERN,
being grateful to them for that service, made no opposition to
their settling themselves in that part of England which is called
the Isle of Thanet, or to their inviting over more of their
countrymen to join them. But HENGIST had a beautiful daughter
named ROWENA; and when, at a feast, she filled a golden goblet to
the brim with wine, and gave it to VORTIGERN, saying in a sweet
voice, 'Dear King, thy health!' the King fell in love with her. My
opinion is, that the cunning HENGIST meant him to do so, in order
that the Saxons might have greater influence with him; and that the
fair ROWENA came to that feast, golden goblet and all, on purpose.
At any rate, they were married; and, long afterwards, whenever the
King was angry with the Saxons, or jealous of their encroachments,
ROWENA would put her beautiful arms round his neck, and softly say,
'Dear King, they are my people! Be favourable to them, as you
loved that Saxon girl who gave you the golden goblet of wine at the
feast!' And, really, I don't see how the King could help himself.
Ah! We must all die! In the course of years, VORTIGERN died - he
was dethroned, and put in prison, first, I am afraid; and ROWENA
died; and generations of Saxons and Britons died; and events that
happened during a long, long time, would have been quite forgotten
but for the tales and songs of the old Bards, who used to go about
from feast to feast, with their white beards, recounting the deeds
of their forefathers. Among the histories of which they sang and
talked, there was a famous one, concerning the bravery and virtues
of KING ARTHUR, supposed to have been a British Prince in those old
times. But, whether such a person really lived, or whether there
were several persons whose histories came to be confused together
under that one name, or whether all about him was invention, no one
knows.
I will tell you, shortly, what is most interesting in the early
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Saxon times, as they are described in these songs and stories of
the Bards.
In, and long after, the days of VORTIGERN, fresh bodies of Saxons,
under various chiefs, came pouring into Britain. One body,
conquering the Britons in the East, and settling there, called
their kingdom Essex; another body settled in the West, and called
their kingdom Wessex; the Northfolk, or Norfolk people, established
themselves in one place; the Southfolk, or Suffolk people,
established themselves in another; and gradually seven kingdoms or
states arose in England, which were called the Saxon Heptarchy.
The poor Britons, falling back before these crowds of fighting men
whom they had innocently invited over as friends, retired into
Wales and the adjacent country; into Devonshire, and into Cornwall.
Those parts of England long remained unconquered. And in Cornwall
now - where the sea-coast is very gloomy, steep, and rugged -
where, in the dark winter-time, ships have often been wrecked close
to the land, and every soul on board has perished - where the winds
and waves howl drearily and split the solid rocks into arches and
caverns - there are very ancient ruins, which the people call the
ruins of KING ARTHUR'S Castle.
Kent is the most famous of the seven Saxon kingdoms, because the
Christian religion was preached to the Saxons there (who domineered
over the Britons too much, to care for what THEY said about their
religion, or anything else) by AUGUSTINE, a monk from Rome. KING
ETHELBERT, of Kent, was soon converted; and the moment he said he
was a Christian, his courtiers all said THEY were Christians; after
which, ten thousand of his subjects said they were Christians too.
AUGUSTINE built a little church, close to this King's palace, on
the ground now occupied by the beautiful cathedral of Canterbury.
SEBERT, the King's nephew, built on a muddy marshy place near
London, where there had been a temple to Apollo, a church dedicated
to Saint Peter, which is now Westminster Abbey. And, in London
itself, on the foundation of a temple to Diana, he built another
little church which has risen up, since that old time, to be Saint
Paul's.
After the death of ETHELBERT, EDWIN, King of Northumbria, who was
such a good king that it was said a woman or child might openly
carry a purse of gold, in his reign, without fear, allowed his
child to be baptised, and held a great council to consider whether
he and his people should all be Christians or not. It was decided
that they should be. COIFI, the chief priest of the old religion,
made a great speech on the occasion. In this discourse, he told
the people that he had found out the old gods to be impostors. 'I
am quite satisfied of it,' he said. 'Look at me! I have been
serving them all my life, and they have done nothing for me;
whereas, if they had been really powerful, they could not have
decently done less, in return for all I have done for them, than
make my fortune. As they have never made my fortune, I am quite
convinced they are impostors!' When this singular priest had
finished speaking, he hastily armed himself with sword and lance,
mounted a war-horse, rode at a furious gallop in sight of all the
people to the temple, and flung his lance against it as an insult.
From that time, the Christian religion spread itself among the
Saxons, and became their faith.
The next very famous prince was EGBERT. He lived about a hundred
and fifty years afterwards, and claimed to have a better right to
the throne of Wessex than BEORTRIC, another Saxon prince who was at
the head of that kingdom, and who married EDBURGA, the daughter of
OFFA, king of another of the seven kingdoms. This QUEEN EDBURGA
was a handsome murderess, who poisoned people when they offended
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her. One day, she mixed a cup of poison for a certain noble
belonging to the court; but her husband drank of it too, by
mistake, and died. Upon this, the people revolted, in great
crowds; and running to the palace, and thundering at the gates,
cried, 'Down with the wicked queen, who poisons men!' They drove
her out of the country, and abolished the title she had disgraced.
When years had passed away, some travellers came home from Italy,
and said that in the town of Pavia they had seen a ragged beggarwoman,
who had once been handsome, but was then shrivelled, bent,
and yellow, wandering about the streets, crying for bread; and that
this beggar-woman was the poisoning English queen. It was, indeed,
EDBURGA; and so she died, without a shelter for her wretched head.
EGBERT, not considering himself safe in England, in consequence of
his having claimed the crown of Wessex (for he thought his rival
might take him prisoner and put him to death), sought refuge at the
court of CHARLEMAGNE, King of France. On the death of BEORTRIC, so
unhappily poisoned by mistake, EGBERT came back to Britain;
succeeded to the throne of Wessex; conquered some of the other
monarchs of the seven kingdoms; added their territories to his own;
and, for the first time, called the country over which he ruled,
ENGLAND.
And now, new enemies arose, who, for a long time, troubled England
sorely. These were the Northmen, the people of Denmark and Norway,
whom the English called the Danes. They were a warlike people,
quite at home upon the sea; not Christians; very daring and cruel.
They came over in ships, and plundered and burned wheresoever they
landed. Once, they beat EGBERT in battle. Once, EGBERT beat them.
But, they cared no more for being beaten than the English
themselves. In the four following short reigns, of ETHELWULF, and
his sons, ETHELBALD, ETHELBERT, and ETHELRED, they came back, over
and over again, burning and plundering, and laying England waste.
In the last-mentioned reign, they seized EDMUND, King of East
England, and bound him to a tree. Then, they proposed to him that
he should change his religion; but he, being a good Christian,
steadily refused. Upon that, they beat him, made cowardly jests
upon him, all defenceless as he was, shot arrows at him, and,
finally, struck off his head. It is impossible to say whose head
they might have struck off next, but for the death of KING ETHELRED
from a wound he had received in fighting against them, and the
succession to his throne of the best and wisest king that ever
lived in England.
CHAPTER III - ENGLAND UNDER THE GOOD SAXON, ALFRED
ALFRED THE GREAT was a young man, three-and-twenty years of age,
when he became king. Twice in his childhood, he had been taken to
Rome, where the Saxon nobles were in the habit of going on journeys
which they supposed to be religious; and, once, he had stayed for
some time in Paris. Learning, however, was so little cared for,
then, that at twelve years old he had not been taught to read;
although, of the sons of KING ETHELWULF, he, the youngest, was the
favourite. But he had - as most men who grow up to be great and
good are generally found to have had - an excellent mother; and,
one day, this lady, whose name was OSBURGA, happened, as she was
sitting among her sons, to read a book of Saxon poetry. The art of
printing was not known until long and long after that period, and
beautiful bright letters, richly painted. The brothers admiring it
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very much, their mother said, 'I will give it to that one of you
four princes who first learns to read.' ALFRED sought out a tutor
that very day, applied himself to learn with great diligence, and
soon won the book. He was proud of it, all his life.
This great king, in the first year of his reign, fought nine
battles with the Danes. He made some treaties with them too, by
which the false Danes swore they would quit the country. They
pretended to consider that they had taken a very solemn oath, in
swearing this upon the holy bracelets that they wore, and which
were always buried with them when they died; but they cared little
for it, for they thought nothing of breaking oaths and treaties
too, as soon as it suited their purpose, and coming back again to
fight, plunder, and burn, as usual. One fatal winter, in the
fourth year of KING ALFRED'S reign, they spread themselves in great
numbers over the whole of England; and so dispersed and routed the
King's soldiers that the King was left alone, and was obliged to
disguise himself as a common peasant, and to take refuge in the
cottage of one of his cowherds who did not know his face.
Here, KING ALFRED, while the Danes sought him far and near, was
left alone one day, by the cowherd's wife, to watch some cakes
which she put to bake upon the hearth. But, being at work upon his
bow and arrows, with which he hoped to punish the false Danes when
a brighter time should come, and thinking deeply of his poor
unhappy subjects whom the Danes chased through the
land, his noble
mind forgot the cakes, and they were burnt. 'What!' said the
cowherd's wife, who scolded him well when she came back, and little
thought she was scolding the King, 'you will be ready enough to eat
them by-and-by, and yet you cannot watch them, idle dog?'
At length, the Devonshire men made head against a new host of Danes
who landed on their coast; killed their chief, and captured their
flag; on which was represented the likeness of a Raven - a very fit
bird for a thievish army like that, I think. The loss of their
standard troubled the Danes greatly, for they believed it to be
enchanted - woven by the three daughters of one father in a single
afternoon - and they had a story among themselves that when they
were victorious in battle, the Raven stretched his wings and seemed
to fly; and that when they were defeated, he would droop. He had
good reason to droop, now, if he could have done anything half so
sensible; for, KING ALFRED joined the Devonshire men; made a camp
with them on a piece of firm ground in the midst of a bog in
Somersetshire; and prepared for a great attempt for vengeance on
the Danes, and the deliverance of his oppressed people.
But, first, as it was important to know how numerous those
pestilent Danes were, and how they were fortified, KING ALFRED,
being a good musician, disguised himself as a glee-man or minstrel,
and went, with his harp, to the Danish camp. He played and sang in
the very tent of GUTHRUM the Danish leader, and entertained the
Danes as they caroused. While he seemed to think of nothing but
his music, he was watchful of their tents, their arms, their
discipline, everything that he desired to know. And right soon did
this great king entertain them to a different tune; for, summoning
all his true followers to meet him at an appointed place, where
they received him with joyful shouts and tears, as the monarch whom
many of them had given up for lost or dead, he put himself at their
head, marched on the Danish camp, defeated the Danes with great
slaughter, and besieged them for fourteen days to prevent their
escape. But, being as merciful as he was good and brave, he then,
instead of killing them, proposed peace: on condition that they
should altogether depart from that Western part of England, and
settle in the East; and that GUTHRUM should become a Christian, in