Chapter VII: Part 7

When young Alfred was five years old, his father sent him to Rome to see the Pope, and to be anointed by him as king of the West Saxons; as Ethelwolf intended to pass over his elder sons and give his throne to his favorite son Alfred. This journey was made with great pomp and splendor; and a large train of nobles and ecclesiastics accompanied the young prince, who was received with splendid entertainments as he passed through France. Two years after this journey, Alfred’s father Ethelwolf determined himself to go to Rome, and his favorite son accompanied him. Ethelwolf placed his elder sons in command of his affairs at home, and with a magnificent retinue crossed the channel, and landed in France on his way to Rome. King Ethelwolf and Prince Alfred were received with great distinction by King Charles of France, and after a short stay in the French court they proceeded to Rome. The king of England carried most costly presents to the Pope. Ethelwolf had been educated for the monastery, as he was a younger son, but the death of his father and elder brother placed him on the throne instead of in an ecclesiastical office. Therefore his religious inclinations were always very strong, and this pilgrimage to Rome was made as a religious ceremony as well as for political objects, and his offerings were very magnificent. One gift was a crown of pure gold, weighing four pounds. Another was a sword richly mounted in gold. There were also many vessels of gold and silver, and several robes richly adorned. King Ethelwolf also distributed money to all the inhabitants of Rome; giving gold to the nobles and clergy, and silver to the people. So great was his munificence, and so magnificent was his courtly retinue, that this visit attracted universal attention, and made the little Alfred, on whose especial account the journey was performed, an object of great interest. King Ethelwolf remained a year at Rome, to give young Alfred the benefit of the advantages of the schools which had been established there. As they returned home through France, King Ethelwolf was married to the young daughter of the king of France, Princess Judith, who was only twelve or fourteen years of age. The mother of Alfred had died about three years before, and although this marriage occasioned much trouble in the kingdom of Ethelwolf, the young bride Judith was a kind and affectionate stepmother to Alfred, who was at this time about eight years of age. The story is related, that on one occasion Judith was showing Alfred and his older brothers a manuscript of some Saxon poems. Although much care had been bestowed upon the education of Alfred, he could not yet read. Indeed, very few even of the princes or kings in those days ever learned to read. Reading was considered as a necessary art, only for those who were to become professional teachers. Alfred expressed so much delight in this manuscript, which was beautifully illuminated with hand drawings, that Judith promised the volume to the one who should first learn to read it. Alfred’s brothers, although much older, did not aspire to this honor, and Alfred made such diligent use of his time, that with the help of his teachers he was soon able to read the poems fluently, and so claimed and received the prize. About two years after, the father of Alfred died, and Judith became the wife of Ethelbald, the eldest brother of Alfred, who succeeded to the throne. He died soon after, however, and Judith returned to France, where she married a Flemish noble, whom her father afterwards made Count of Flanders. We cannot stop to trace the life of Judith any farther, but we must mention that Alfred the Great afterwards gave his daughter Elfrida in marriage to the second count of Flanders, who was the eldest son of Judith. Through this marriage the English sovereigns trace their descent from Alfred the Great.

There is a strange story connected with the youth of Alfred, which is best given in the quaint language of one of the biographers of this good and brave king. “As he advanced through the years of infancy and youth, his form appeared more comely than those of his brothers, and in look, speech, and manners he was more graceful than they. He was already the darling of the people, who felt that in wisdom and other qualities he surpassed all the royal race. Alfred, then, being a youth of this fair promise, while training himself diligently in all such learning as he had the means of acquiring, and especially in his own mother tongue and the poems and songs which formed the chief part of Anglo-Saxon literature, was not unmindful of the culture of his body, and was a zealous practiser of hunting in all its branches, and hunted with great perseverance and success. But before all things he was wishful to strengthen his mind in the keeping of God’s commandments; and finding that worldly desires and proud and rebellious thoughts which the devil, who is ever jealous of the good, is apt to breed in the minds of the young, were likely to have the mastery of him, he used often to rise at cock-crow in the early mornings, and repairing to some church or holy place, there cast himself before God in prayer, that he might do nothing contrary to His holy will. But finding himself still hard tempted, he began at such times to pray, as he lay prostrate before the altar, that God in his great mercy would strengthen his mind and will by some sickness, such as would be of use to him in the subduing of his nature, but would not show itself outwardly, or render him powerless or contemptible in worldly duties, or less able to benefit his people. For King Alfred from his earliest years held in great dread leprosy and blindness, and every disease which would make a man useless or contemptible in the conduct of affairs. And when he had often, and with much fervor, prayed to this effect, it pleased God to afflict him with a very painful disease, which lay upon him with little respite until he was in his twentieth year. At this age he became betrothed to her who was afterwards his wife, Elswitha, the daughter of Ethelred, the Earl of the Gaini in Mercia. Alfred, then, at that time being on a visit to Cornwall for the sake of hunting, turned aside from his sport, as his custom often was, to pray in a certain chapel in which was buried the body of St. Guerir. There he entreated God that he would exchange the sickness with which he had been up to that time afflicted for some other disease, which should in like manner not render him useless or contemptible. And so, finishing his prayers, he got up and rode away, and soon after perceived within himself that he was made whole of his old sickness. So his marriage was celebrated in Mercia, to which came great numbers of people, and there was feasting which lasted through the night as well as by day. In the midst of which revelry Alfred was attacked by sudden and violent pain, the cause of which neither they who were then present, nor indeed any physician in after years, could rightly ascertain. At the time, however, some believed that it was the malignant enchantment of some person amongst the guests; others, that it was the special spite of the devil; others again, that it was the old sickness come back on him, or a strange kind of fever. In any case, from that day until his forty-fourth year he was subject to this same sickness, which frequently returned, giving him the most acute pain, and, as he thought, making him useless for every duty. But how far the king was from thinking rightly in this respect, those who read of the burdens that were laid upon him, and the work which he accomplished, can best judge for themselves.” Such is this quaint account of Alfred’s religious devotion, and his patient endurance of suffering.

According to the will of Ethelwolf, the father of Alfred, Ethelbald, his eldest son, was to retain the throne of Wessex until his death, when he should be succeeded by his two youngest brothers, Ethelred and Alfred, in succession; while Ethelbert, the second son, should be king of Kent, Sussex, and Surrey. His estates and other property were divided amongst his children. From 858 until 860 Ethelred and Alfred lived in Kent with their brother Ethelbert. Upon the death of Ethelbald in 860, Ethelred and Alfred both waived their rights, and allowed Ethelbert to ascend the throne of Wessex. In 866 Ethelbert also died, and Ethelred now became the sovereign, and Alfred the crown prince. Alfred was very fond of study, and also very devout, as the above description from the old annals shows. During his youth he had gathered together the Services of the Hours, called _Celebrationes Horarum_, with many of the Psalms, which he had written in a small handbook that he always carried with him; and on battle-field, or exiled in the wild forests, or ruling the nation as a proud king, this little book of devotion was always within reach, and constantly perused.

Within six weeks after his marriage he was called to arms by the invasion of the Danes, already mentioned, under Guthrum and Hubba; and within a few short months his brother Ethelred had been killed in battle, he himself had become king, and nine pitched battles had been fought in his own kingdom of Wessex under his leadership.

To understand more clearly the character of the Danes, a slight description of their weird and fantastic religious ideas is necessary. Woden was the chief figure in their ancient mythology. He was the god of battles, “who giveth victory, who re-animates warriors, who nameth those who are to be slain.” This Woden had been an inspired teacher as well as a conqueror, and had given to these wild Northmen a Scandinavian alphabet, and songs of battle. Their traditions related that Woden had led them from the shores of the Black Sea to the fiords of Norway, the far shores of Iceland. Having departed from them, he drew their hearts after him, and lived ever after in Asgard, the garden of the gods. There in his own great hall, Valhalla, the hall of Odin, he dwelt. And it was believed that the brave slain in battle should be permitted to go to Valhalla, and feast there with the mighty Odin.

There were also supposed to be other gods in this hall of Valhalla. Chief of these was Balder, the sun-god, white, beautiful, benignant; and Thor, the thunder-god, with terrible smiting hammer and awful brows, engaged mainly in expeditions into Jotun land, a chaotic world, the residence of the giants, or devils, known as frost, fire, tempest, and the like. Thor’s attendant was Thealfi, or manual labor. This thunder-god was described to be full of unwieldly strength, simplicity, and rough humor. There was supposed to be a tree of life also in the unseen world,—Igdrasil, with its roots in Hela, the kingdom of death, at the foot of which sit the three Nornas, known as the past, present, and future. They also believed that there would some day be a struggle of the gods and Jotuns, or dwellers in the chaotic world, and that at last the gods, Jotuns, and Time himself would all sink down into darkness, from which in due season there should issue forth a new heaven and a new earth, in which a higher god and supreme justice shall at last reign.

So their religion was only a religion of war; and, to be brave in battle, they thought the most pleasing devotion they could show to their warlike gods. So this contest between the Danes and Saxons was not only one for the possession of the fruitful land of England, but was a contest between Paganism and Christianity. King Alfred was a devout Christian, and although the Saxons’ ideas of religion were mixed with much superstition and bigotry, they believed in the true God, Jehovah, and in salvation through the redemption of Jesus Christ; although the pure Gospel, as taught by Christ himself when on the earth more than eight hundred years before this time, had become mixed with all sorts of legends of saints and marvellous stories fabricated by the priests, and handed down as traditions among the people, whose ignorance placed them completely under the sway of the only class of men who were educated sufficiently to read and write, and by whom all copies were made of such books as they possessed at that day, which consisted only of rolls of parchment, penned laboriously by hand in the various monasteries, scattered throughout the different kingdoms of the then civilized world. The most famous battle between the Saxons and the Danes is known as the battle of Ashdown, and is thus described in the old English annals:—

_Roy d’Angleterre,_

_Né en 849. Mort le 28.8bre. 899._]

“At early dawn the hosts were on foot. Alfred marched up promptly with his men to give battle, but King Ethelred stayed long time in his tent at prayer hearing the mass. Now the Christians had determined that King Ethelred with his men should fight the two pagan kings, and that Alfred his brother, with his men, should take the chance of war against the earls. Things being so arranged, the king remained long time in prayer, while the pagans pressed on swiftly to the fight. Then Alfred, though holding the lower command, could no longer support the onslaught of the enemy without retreating, or charging upon them without waiting for his brother. A moment of fearful anxiety was this for the young prince, who thus no doubt mused: ‘Bagsac and the two Sidrocs at the top of the down with double my numbers, already overlapping my flanks: Ethelred still at mass—dare I go up at them? In the name of God and St. Cuthbert, yes!’ and with a strong heart, brave for this great crisis, Alfred puts himself at the head of his men, and leads them up the slope against the whole pagan host, ‘With the rush of a wild boar.’ For he too relied on the help of God. He formed his men in a dense phalanx to meet the foe, which was never broken in that long fight. Mass being over, Ethelred comes up to the help of his brother, and the battle raged along the whole hillside. The pagans occupied the higher ground, and the Christians came up from below. There was also in that place, a single stunted thorn-tree. Round this tree the opposing hosts came together with loud shouts from all sides, the one party to pursue their wicked course, the other to fight for their lives, their wives and children, and their country. And, when both sides had fought long and bravely, at last the pagans, by God’s judgment, gave way, being no longer able to abide the Christian onslaught; and after losing a great part of their army, broke in shameful flight. One of their two kings and five earls were there slain, together with many thousand pagans, who covered with their bodies the whole plain of Ashdown. And all the pagan host pursued its flight, not only until night, but through the next day, even until they reached the stronghold from which they had come forth. The Christians followed, slaying all they could reach until dark. Neither before nor since was ever such slaughter known since the Saxons first gained England by their arms.”

Alfred’s decision and promptness, in that time of emergency, not only won the day, but hardened his own nerve to flint, and his judgment, amid the clash of arms, to steel. Through all the weary years of battle and misfortune that followed, there was no sign of indecision and faint-heartedness. He had conquered fear and hesitancy there, as valiantly as he had conquered temptations to evil in his earlier youth. About two months after the battle of Ashdown, Ethelred and Alfred fought for the last time together, against their unwearied foes. In this contest Ethelred was mortally wounded, and died soon after, and was buried by Alfred with kingly honors in Wimborne Minster.

Alfred, now at the age of twenty-three, ascended the throne of his fathers, which seemed at that time tottering, and was not an inheritance to be desired in the year of 871, when Alfred succeeded his brother. It would not be surprising if for a moment he lost heart and hope, and allowed himself to doubt whether God would by his hand deliver his afflicted people from their relentless foes. In the eight pitched battles which had been fought with the pagan army, the flower of the youth of the Saxon nation had fallen. Kent, Sussex, and Surrey were at the mercy of the Danes. London had been pillaged and was in ruins, and several provinces in his own Wessex had been desolated. The Danes were even then striking into new districts, and if the rich lands yet unplundered were to be saved from their voracious grasp, it would only be by prompt and decisive action.

A month has passed since the death of Alfred’s brother and his succession to this tottering throne. Alfred, with the greatest difficulty, collects enough men to take the field openly. The first great battle that Alfred fought, as king, was at Wilton. At first Alfred’s troops carried all before them, but the tide turned in favor of the Danes, and Alfred and the Saxons were driven from the field. There was immense loss upon both sides, and a treaty was agreed upon between Alfred and Hubba, the Danish chieftain. By this treaty, the Danes were to retire from Alfred’s dominions, provided that he would not interfere with their conquests in other parts of England. Alfred has been censured for making this treaty; but he was obliged to choose between protection for his own realm, and perhaps the entire destruction and overthrow of not only his dominions, but of all England. He had no power to aid others, and therefore endeavored to protect, if possible, his own subjects. The Danes then went to Mercia. The king of Mercia was Buthred, the brother-in-law of Alfred. Buthred paid the Danes large sums of money to leave his kingdom. The Danes departed for a while, but treacherously returned, and were again bought off. Hubba scarcely left the kingdom this time, but spent the money received, and then went to plundering as before, regardless of all promises. Buthred, in despair, fled the country and went to Rome, where he died soon after of grief. The Danes then took possession of Mercia, and set over the people a king from whom they demanded an annual tribute. In the meantime, new hordes of Danes arrived in England; and one place after another was plundered by them, and they obtained possession of the town of Exancester (now Exeter), which was a great loss to Alfred. King Alfred then determined to meet the Danes upon their own element; and he built and equipped a small fleet, and was successful in his first encounter with his enemies, having defeated a fleet of Danish ships in the channel, and having captured one of the largest of their vessels.

But after all, Alfred gained no decisive victory over his foes. He then tried to bind the Danes by Christian oaths, in making a treaty with them. The Danes were accustomed to swear by a certain ornament which they wore, when they wished to impose a very solemn religious oath; and to swear by this bracelet was to place themselves under the most solemn obligations they could assume. Alfred, however, was not satisfied with this pagan ceremony, but obliged them, in one treaty, to swear by certain Christian relics, which were held in great awe and sacredness by the Saxons. But the Danes broke their treaties with the most reckless defiance; and, as years passed, Alfred found his army broken, his resources exhausted, his towns and castles taken, until about eight years after his coronation at Winchester, as monarch of the most powerful of all the Saxon kingdoms, he found himself unable to resist the further attacks of the Danes, who had come over in fresh hordes, and captured his kingdom of Wessex; which calamity Alfred was powerless to prevent.

The Saxon chieftains and nobles fled in terror, and Alfred himself, with only one or two trusty friends, retired to the vast forests, which skirted the remote western frontiers of his once proud realm. It was during these homeless wanderings that the incident is said to have occurred, which has ever since been related of this bitter experience of want and misery in the life of Alfred the Great. The story is, that Alfred, weary and hungry, sought shelter in the miserable hut of a cow-herd, who gave him such poor fare as his lowly lot allowed. Alfred, while remaining with these simple folks, was one day engaged in mending his arrows, when the cow-herd’s wife, totally unconscious of the rank and station of her guest, requested him, in no polite terms, to watch her cakes which were baking in the coals, while she employed herself in other labors. King Alfred, absorbed in his sorrowful musings, forgot the injunctions of the ill-natured woman, and so allowed her cakes to burn; which, when she perceived, she gave him a good scolding; saying, “You man! you will not turn the bread you see burning, but you will be very glad to eat it when it is done!” This unlucky woman little thought she was addressing the great King Alfred.

Alfred, though restless and wretched in his apparently hopeless seclusion, bore his privations with patience and fortitude, and did not cease to plan some way by which he might reorganize his forces and rescue his country from the ruin into which it had fallen. Alfred now established himself at a place called Ethelney; and, having gradually collected a few followers, they built a kind of fortress, where Alfred’s family at length joined him, and to which numbers of his old troops began to repair. The following incident is recorded in the old annals concerning this time in King Alfred’s life. It was very difficult to supply his little garrison with food, and sometimes they found themselves in sore want. At one time the provisions in the house were nearly exhausted, and to add to their distress, it was also in the winter. All of Alfred’s little band having gone away with their fishing apparatus and bows and arrows in the hope of securing some food, Alfred was left alone with only one attendant. King Alfred was sitting reading, when a beggar came to the door and asked for food. Alfred, looking up from his book, inquired of his attendant what food there was in the house. It was found that there was only a single loaf of bread remaining, and a little wine in a pitcher. This would not be half enough for their own wants, should the hunting party return unsuccessful. Alfred ordered half of the loaf to be given to the stranger; but when he had been served he was seen no more, and the loaf remained whole, as though none had been taken from it, and the pitcher was now full to the brim. Alfred, meantime, had turned to his reading, over which he fell asleep, and dreamed that St. Cuthbert stood by him and told him it was he who had been his guest; and that God had seen his afflictions and those of his people, which were now about to end, in token whereof his people would return that day from their expedition with a great take of fish. And while Alfred yet mused on this strange dream from which he had awakened, his servants came in, bringing fish enough to have fed an army. The legend also goes on to say, that on the next morning King Alfred went forth in the forests and wound his horn thrice, which drew to him before noon five hundred men. Another story is told of the manner in which King Alfred discovered the number and power of his enemies’ forces. It is said that he assumed the garb of a minstrel, and with one attendant visited the camp of the Dane Guthrum. Here he stayed, amusing the Danish king and nobles with his songs and harp, boldly venturing into their very tents, until he had learned all he desired to know concerning their plans.

Whereupon he returned to Ethelney; and the time having arrived for a great effort, he sent word to his people to meet him at a place called Egbert’s Stone. Here, on the 12th of May, 878, King Alfred met his gathered forces, and losing no time, moved forward toward Guthrum’s camp. Alfred encamped for the night on an eminence from which he could watch the movements of his enemies. That night, as he was sleeping in his tent, he had a remarkable dream. St. Neot appeared to him, and told him to have no fear of the immense army of pagans whom he was about to encounter on the morrow, as God had taken him under his special protection, having accepted his penitence for all his faults; he might now go forward into the battle without fear, as God was about to give him the victory over all his enemies.

The king related this dream to his army the next morning, and the men were inspired with new ardor and enthusiasm as Alfred led them to the camp where their enemies lay; for it was Alfred’s intention to surprise the Danes. The Saxons advanced to the attack; and the Danes, surprised and terror-stricken, soon began to yield. At last the flight among the pagans became general. They were pursued by Alfred’s victorious columns. The retreating army was in a short time reduced to a small force, which, with Guthrum at their head, reached a castle, where they took refuge. Guthrum, shut up in this castle, was now besieged by Alfred’s forces; and when many of his men were raving in the delirium of famine and thirst, or dying in dreadful agony, he could resist no longer, but surrendered to Alfred. Thus King Alfred was once more in possession of his kingdom. The treaty which Alfred now made with the Danes evinces his generous Christian forgiveness; and perhaps even the pagan Guthrum, in accepting the terms proposed, was influenced by emotions of gratitude and admiration for the example of Christian virtue which Alfred exhibited. As the Danes had now become so intermingled with the Saxons by their long residence in England and frequent intermarriages, Alfred determined to expel only the armed forces from his dominions, allowing those peaceably disposed to remain in quiet possession of such lands in other parts of the island as they already occupied. Instead, therefore, of treating Guthrum with harshness and severity as a captive enemy, he told him that he was willing to give him his liberty, and to regard him, on certain conditions, as a friend and an ally, and to allow him to reign as king over that part of England which his countrymen already possessed. The conditions were that Guthrum was to go away with his forces out of Alfred’s kingdom under solemn oaths never to return; that he was to give hostages for the faithful fulfilment of these stipulations; and that Guthrum should become a convert to Christianity, and publicly avow his adhesion to the Saxon faith by being baptized in the presence of the leaders of both armies in the most open and solemn manner. These conditions were accepted, and some weeks after the surrender, the baptism was performed in the presence of many chieftains of both nations. Guthrum’s Christian name which he received at this ceremony was Ethelstan. King Alfred was his god-father. The various ceremonies connected with the baptism were protracted through several days, and were followed by a number of festivities and public rejoicings. The admission of the pagan chieftain into the Christian church did not mark, perhaps, any real change in his personal opinions, but it prepared the way for the reception of the Christian faith by his followers; and Alfred, in leading Guthrum to the baptismal font, was achieving, in the estimation of all England, France, and Rome, a far greater and nobler victory than when he conquered his enemies on the field of battle. A full and formal treaty of peace was now concluded between the two sovereigns; for Guthrum received the title of king, and was to hold a separate kingdom in the dominions assigned to him. Guthrum endeavored to keep this treaty faithfully, and whenever other parties of Danes came upon the coast of England, they found no favor or assistance from him against the Saxons.

The generosity and nobleness of mind displayed in his treatment of Guthrum made a great impression on the world at that time, and has never ceased to throw a halo of glory around the memory of this good and great king. Many stories are told to illustrate the kindness of Alfred the Great. It is said that once, while hunting in the forest with a party, he heard the cries of a child, which seemed to come from the air above their heads. It was found, after much searching, that the sounds proceeded from an eagle’s nest in the top of a lofty tree. On climbing to the nest, it was discovered that a child had been carried by the eagle to its nest, and the infant was screaming with pain and terror. Alfred ordered the boy to be brought to his castle, and not being able to find the parents of the child, he adopted him as his own son, gave him a good education, and provided for him well when he grew to manhood. King Alfred manifested great interest in the arts of peace, notwithstanding the warlike influences and habits of his life. He was the ruler of a race capable of appreciating intelligence, order, justice, and system; and, foreseeing the future power of this people, his chief attention during all the years of his reign was devoted to their advancement in learning, setting them an example in his own case by pressing forward diligently in his own studies, even in the midst of his overwhelming cares. It was not possible in those days to educate the masses, as there were no books; but Alfred made great efforts to promote the intellectual improvement of his people, which was all the more remarkable at that time when all other monarchs were ambitious only of their own power and personal glory. King Alfred wrote and translated many books, which were copied and, so far as it was possible, circulated amongst those who could read them. These writings of King Alfred exerted a wide influence. They remained in manuscript until the art of printing was invented, when many of them were printed. Some of the original manuscripts may still be seen in various English museums. One of the greatest of King Alfred’s measures was the founding of the great university of Oxford. He also repaired the castles, which had become dilapidated in the wars. He rebuilt the ruined cities, organized governments for them, restored the monasteries, and took pains to put men of learning and piety in charge of them. He revised the laws of his kingdom. Through all his reign, his desire was to lay lasting foundations for the permanent prosperity of his realm. His own life was governed by fixed principles of justice and of duty; and his calm, patient, unselfish character gave him a wide influence over his people, and made him a shining example of the truths he endeavored to impress upon them. King Alfred invented a plan for marking the different hours of the day by the burning of wax candles, so exactly made as to size that they would each burn a certain fixed time. The candles were each a foot long, and would burn four hours. They were divided into inches by marks upon them, and each inch would last twenty minutes. A large number of these candles were prepared, and a person was appointed to keep a succession of them burning in a chapel, and to ring bells to designate the successive periods of time denoted by their burning. There was one difficulty, however, which interfered somewhat with their exactness, which was that the blowing of any slight breeze or draught would make the burning uncertain. To obviate this trouble, King Alfred contrived a kind of lantern made of sheets of horn so thin that they were almost transparent. A plate of horn was set in each of the four sides of a box, which was fastened over the candle, thus forming a sort of rude lantern. This was the first lantern in England, and King Alfred is generally credited with being their first inventor; but as Diogenes, the Greek philosopher, was said to have carried a lantern in the old story, the English lantern of King Alfred may not have been the earliest ever invented. Alfred the Great was very systematic about the employment of his own time. He was accustomed to give one-third of the twenty-four hours to sleep and refreshment, one-third to business, and one-third to religious duties. Under this last head was probably included study, writing, and the management of ecclesiastical affairs. At length, however, at the close of King Alfred’s life, a famous Northman leader, named Hastings, landed in England, at the head of a large force, so that Alfred’s reign ended as it had begun,—in desperate and protracted conflicts with the Danes. Hastings had made one previous invasion into England, but Guthrum, faithful to his promise to Alfred, repulsed him. But Guthrum was now dead, and so King Alfred was forced to meet this tireless and implacable foe again. Year after year passed, during which a succession of battles were fought between the two nations, now the Danes gaining an advantage, now the Saxons. Hastings was finally expelled from England in 897, and once more Alfred’s kingdom was at peace. But King Alfred’s life was now drawing very near its close. His children had now grown to manhood, and repaid his love and care by endeavoring to imitate their illustrious father’s example. His eldest son Edward was to succeed King Alfred on the English throne. A daughter named Ethelfleda, who was married to a prince of Mercia, was famed all over England for the superiority of her mind, her many accomplishments, and her devoted piety. Alfred the Great was fifty-two years of age when he died. His body was interred in the great cathedral at Winchester, and the kingdom passed peacefully to his son. His own dying farewell to his son Edward is the best memorial encomium which can be passed upon his life, and he most truly earned the title of Alfred the Great,—great in wisdom, great in power, and, best of all, great in goodness; and his purified spirit passed from earth with these truly great words upon his dying lips:—

“Thou, my dear son, sit thee now beside me, and I will deliver thee true instructions. I feel that my hour is coming. My strength is gone; my countenance is wasted and pale; my days are almost ended. We must now part. I go to another world, and thou art left alone in the possession of all that I have thus far held. I pray thee, my dear child, to be a father to thy people. Be the children’s father and the widow’s friend. Comfort the poor, protect and shelter the weak, and, with all thy might, right that which is wrong. And, my son, govern _thyself_ by _law_. Then shall the Lord love thee, and God himself shall be thy reward. Call thou upon Him to advise thee in all thy need, and He shall help thee to compass all thy desires.”

RICHARD CŒUR DE LION.

A.D. 1157-1199.

“Yet looks he like a king; behold his eye,
As bright as is the eagle’s, lightens forth
Controlling majesty.”—SHAKESPEARE.

THE history of Richard Cœur de Lion is a history of the third crusade, and the most memorable one of all. Upon the side of the Mussulmans was Saladin, sultan of Egypt and Syria. Saladin, whose name means “splendor of religion,” was a noble and generous man, and though a Mohammedan, he often evinced a far more humane and commendable spirit than many of his foes, who called themselves Christians. Upon the side of the Mohammedans, as well as that of the Christians, this conflict was regarded as a holy war; for the Christians were fighting to obtain Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulchre, where the body of Jesus Christ was supposed to have lain, while the Mohammedans were just as zealously fighting to retain Jerusalem; and Saladin’s answer to the Christians, when they demanded the surrender of that city was, “Jerusalem never was yours, and we may not without sin give it up to you; for it is the place where the mysteries of our religion were accomplished; and the last one of my soldiers will perish before the Mussulmans renounce conquests made in the name of Mohammed.”

Before the time of Richard the Lion-Hearted, Jerusalem had been conquered by the Christians, and they had set up in it a king. This was in 1099, when the crusaders elected Godfrey de Bouillon as king of Jerusalem. But he reigned but one year and died. In the space of one hundred and seventy-one years, from the coronation of Godfrey de Bouillon as king of Jerusalem in 1099, to the last crusade under Louis IX. of France, in 1270, there were seven crusades which were undertaken by the kings of France and England, the emperors of Germany, the king of Denmark, and various princes of Italy. They all failed in the end of accomplishing the permanent possession of the city of Jerusalem by the Christians; but these various crusades called forth a number of devout and self-sacrificing monks and bishops, and gave occasion for brave and valiant deeds by many knights and kings, and none were so brave, and none became so famous in the annals of these holy wars as Richard I., king of England, called by the Christians Cœur de Lion, the Lion-hearted, on account of his valor, and for the same reason feared among the Mohammedans, and called by them Malek-Rik; and so great a terror did this name become, that when St. Louis, more than fifty years after, led the French to another crusade, they heard the Saracen mothers scolding their children, and threatening them with punishment by the dreadful Malek-Rik, who had never been forgotten. The first of the crusades had been inspired by a zealous monk, called Peter the Hermit. From the earliest days of Christianity, many pious persons had made pilgrimages to Palestine, to visit the graves of saints and other places. After a time, these pilgrimages had been extended to Jerusalem; and that city at length, having fallen into the hands of the Turks, the Christian people were treated with cruelty, and many of the clergy were imprisoned and even killed. Peter the Hermit had been to Jerusalem, and having himself been an eye-witness of the cruelties of the Turks towards the Christians, he obtained permission of the Pope to go to the principal courts in Europe, and exhort all Christian warriors to take up arms against the infidels in the Holy Land. Peter the Hermit walked from court to court, barefoot and clothed in rags. He was listened to as a prophet, and succeeded in inspiring many knights and crowds of people to enlist in what they considered a sacred cause. The symbol of this enlistment was a cross of red stuff sewed to the shoulder of the cloak; hence the name crusade. France was at this time roused to great excitement. The barons sold and pledged their lands to obtain the means of joining the expedition. The Pope promised a full remission of sins to all who assumed the cross; and as the mass of the people were so ignorant in those days that the word of the Pope was held to be as sacred as a voice from heaven, and his blessing or excommunication was regarded by them as powerful enough to raise them to Paradise, or call down upon them everlasting destruction, thousands of wicked persons, whose sins were so many that it would have required years of penance to have gained the much-coveted absolvance from the Pope, eagerly seized upon this method of winning earthly glory, and, as they supposed, heavenly honor. It is said that a crowd of more than a million of persons, including beggars, women and children, soon pledged themselves to this crusade. Three hundred thousand of such a motley company started, with Peter the Hermit and Walter the Penniless marching at their head. Nearly the entire number fell victims to the fury of their assailants in the countries through which they passed. This company of helpless beggars, women and children, were followed by three hundred thousand fighting men, who had been preparing in the different kingdoms, mostly in France. Of this large host, only a small remnant under Godfrey de Bouillon, arrived at Jerusalem, and captured that city in 1099, and planted the standard of the cross on its walls.

St. Bernard, abbot of Clairvaux, roused the people again for the second crusade, for it was discovered that the Turks had massacred the Christians in Palestine, and that Jerusalem was in danger. King Louis VII. of France, and the emperor Conrad III. of Germany, espoused the cause. Although Louis and Conrad entered the city of Jerusalem and determined upon the siege of Damascus, nothing permanent was accomplished. The siege of Damascus was abandoned, and the crusade-sovereigns returned to their respective kingdoms.

During the forty years’ interval between the end of the second and the beginning of the third crusades, the relative positions of the West and East, Christian Europe and Mussulman Asia, remained much the same. But in 1187, news again reached Europe of repeated disasters to the Christians in Asia. Egypt had become the goal of ambition, and Saladin, the most illustrious as well as the most powerful of Mussulman sovereigns, being sultan of Egypt and Syria, had fought against a Christian army near Tiberias. The oriental chronicles thus describe the conflict: “The Christian army was surrounded by the Saracens, and also, ere long, by the fire, which Saladin had ordered to be set to the dry grass which covered the plain. The flames made their way and spread beneath the feet of men and horses. There the sons of Paradise and the children of fire settled their terrible quarrel. Arrows hurtled in the air like a noisy flight of sparrows, and the blood of warriors dripped upon the ground like rain-water. Hill, plain, and valley were covered with their dead; their banners were stained with dust and blood, their heads were laid low, their limbs scattered, their carcasses piled on a heap like stones.” Four days after the battle of Tiberias in July, 1187, Saladin took possession of St. Jean d’Acre, and in the following September, of Ascalon. In the same month he laid siege to Jerusalem. The Holy City contained at that time, it is said, nearly one hundred thousand Christians, who had fled for safety from all parts of Palestine. Saladin’s taking of Jerusalem is thus described by Guizot. “On approaching its walls, Saladin sent for the principal inhabitants, and said to them, ‘I know as well as you that Jerusalem is the house of God, and I will not have it assaulted if I can get it by peace and love. I will give you thirty thousand byzants of gold if you promise me Jerusalem, and you shall have liberty to go whither you will and do your tillage, to a distance of five miles from the city. And I will have you supplied with such plenty of provisions that in no place on earth shall they be so cheap. You shall have a truce from now to Whitsuntide, and when this time comes, if you see that you may have aid, then hold on. But if not, you shall give up the city, and I will have you conveyed in safety to Christian territory, yourselves and your substance.’ ‘We may not yield up to you a city where died our God,’ answered the envoys, ‘and still less may we sell you.’ The siege lasted fourteen days. After having repulsed several assaults, the inhabitants saw that effectual resistance was impossible, and the commandant of the place, a knight, named Balian d’Ibelin, an old warrior who had been at the battle of Tiberias, returned to Saladin, and asked for the conditions back again which had been at first rejected. Saladin, pointing to his own banner already planted upon several parts of the battlements, answered, ‘It is too late, you surely see that the city is mine.’ ‘Very well, my lord,’ replied the knight, ‘we will ourselves destroy our city, and the mosque of Omar, and the stone of Jacob, and when it is nothing but a heap of ruins, we will sally forth with sword and fire in hand, and not one of us will go to Paradise without having sent ten Mussulmans to hell.’ Saladin understood enthusiasm and respected it, and to have had the destruction of Jerusalem connected with his name would have caused him deep displeasure. He therefore consented to the terms of capitulation demanded of him. The fighting men were permitted to retreat to Tyre or Tripolis, which cities were in the power of the Christians, and the simple inhabitants of Jerusalem had their lives preserved, and permission given them to purchase their freedom on certain conditions; but, as many amongst them could not find the means, Malek-Adhel, the sultan’s brother, and Saladin himself, paid the ransom of several thousands of captives. All Christians, however, with the exception of Greeks and Syrians, had orders to leave Jerusalem within four days. When the day came, all the gates were closed except that of David, by which the people were to go forth, and Saladin, seated upon a throne, saw the Christians defile before him. First came the patriarch, followed by the clergy carrying the sacred vessels and the ornaments of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. After him came Sibylla, queen of Jerusalem, who had remained in the city, whilst her husband, Guy de Lusignan, had been a prisoner at Nablous since the battle of Tiberias. Saladin saluted her respectfully, and spoke to her kindly. He had too great a soul to take pleasure in the humiliation of greatness.” The capture of Jerusalem again roused Europe to arms, but the story of this third crusade will be more fully narrated, as we proceed with the personal history of Richard the Lion-hearted, who became the chief and most illustrious figure in the annals of this third holy war.

Eleanor, the mother of Richard Cœur de Lion, had herself participated in the second crusade. Eleanor’s grandfather was duke of Aquitaine, a rich kingdom in the south of France. His son, the father of Eleanor, had been killed in the first crusade, and the duke of Aquitaine determined to resign his kingdom in favor of his grand-daughter, and marry her to Prince Louis VII., then heir to the throne of France. This was accomplished, and King Louis VI. of France, dying soon after the marriage, Eleanor became queen of France, as well as duchess of Aquitaine. This princess had been well educated for those times, and was even celebrated for her learning, as she possessed the rare accomplishments of being able to read and write, as well as to sing the songs of the Troubadours, which was the fashionable music of the courts. King Louis VII., her husband, was a very pious man, much more fond of devotion than of pleasure, so he determined to go on a crusade, and Queen Eleanor, from a gay love of adventure, resolved to accompany him. Eleanor and her court ladies laid aside their feminine attire, and clothed themselves as Amazons, taking good care, however, to provide a most cumbersome amount of baggage, containing their usual rich costumes and delicate luxuries, which proved so great a burden in transportation that the king remonstrated against such a needless and troublesome excess of useless finery. But the ladies carried their point, and the crusading expedition, which should have been composed of an army of valiant warriors, became an immense train of women and baggage, requiring the constant care of the princes, barons, and knights, many of them reluctant participants, who had been shamed by the taunts of these ladies into joining an expedition which had been organized upon so wild and heedless a plan as to insure only disaster and failure. But the gay ladies exclaimed to any man who dared to express any thoughts of remaining at home, “We will send you our distaffs as presents. We have no longer any use for them, but as you are intending to stay at home and make women of yourselves, we will send them to you, so that you may occupy yourselves with spinning while we are gone.”