It was twelve or fifteen years after Alfred's restoration
to his kingdom, by means of the victory at Edendune,
that the great invasion of Hastings occurred. That victory
took place in the year 878. It was in the years 893-897 that
Hastings and his horde of followers infested the island, and
in 900 Alfred died, so that his reign ended, as it had commenced,
with protracted and desperate conflicts with the Danes.
Hastings was an old and successful soldier before
he came to England. He had led a wild life for many years
as a sea king on the German Ocean, performing deeds which
in our day entail upon the perpetrator of them the infamy
of piracy and murder, but which then entitled the hero of
them to a very wide-spread and honorable fame. Afterward Hastings
landed upon the Continent, and pursued, for a long time, a
glorious career of victory and plunder in France. In these
enterprises, the tide, indeed, sometimes turned against him.
On one occasion, for instance, he found himself obliged to
give way before his enemies, and he retreated to a church,
which he seized and fortified, making it his castle until
a more favorable aspect of his affairs enabled him to issue
forth from this retreat and take the field again. Still he
was generally very successful in his enterprises; his terrible
ferocity, and that of his savage followers, were dreaded in
every part of the civilized world.
Hastings had made one previous invasion of England;
but Guthrum, faithful to his covenants with Alfred, repulsed
him. But Guthrum was now dead, and Alfred had to contend against
his formidable enemy alone.
Hastings selected a point on the southern coast
of England for his landing. Guthrum's Danes still continued to occupy the eastern part of England,
and Hastings went round on the southern coast until he got
beyond their boundaries, as if he wished to avoid doing anything
directly to awaken their hostility. Guthrum himself, while
he lived, had evinced a determination to oppose Hastings's
plans of invasion. Hastings did not know, now that Guthrum
was dead, whether his successors would oppose him or not.
He determined, at all events, to respect their territory,
and so he passed along on the southern shore of England till
he was beyond their limits, and then prepared to land.
He had assembled a large force
of his own, and he was joined, in addition to them, by many
adventurers who came out to attach themselves to his expedition
from the bays, and islands, and harbors which he passed on
his way. His fleet amounted at least to two hundred and fifty
vessels. They arrived, at length, at a part of the coast where
there extends a vast tract of low and swampy land, which was
then a wild and dismal morass. This tract, which is known
in modern times by the name of the Romney Marshes, is of enormous
extent, containing, as it does, fifty thousand acres. It is
now reclaimed, and is defended by a broad and well-constructed
dike from the inroads of the sea. In Hastings's time it was
a vast waste of bogs and mire, utterly impassable except by
means of a river, which, meandering sluggishly through the
tangled wilderness of weeds and bushes in a deep, black stream,
found an outlet at last into the sea.
Hastings took his vessels into this river, and,
following its turnings for some miles, he conducted them at
last to a place where he found more solid ground to land upon.
But this ground, though solid, was almost as wild and solitary
as the morass. It was a forest of vast extent, which showed
no signs of human occupancy, except that the peasants who
lived in the surrounding regions had come down to the lowest
point accessible, and were building a rude fortification there.
Hastings attacked them and drove them away. Then, advancing
a little further, until he found an advantageous position,
he built a strong fortress himself and established his army
within its lines.
His next measure was to land another force near
the mouth of the Thames, and bring them into the country,
until he found a strong position where he could intrench and fortify the second division as he had done the first.
These two positions were but a short distance from each other.
He made them the combined center of his operations, going
from them in all directions in plundering excursions. Alfred
soon raised an army and advanced to attack him; and these
operations were the commencement of a long and tedious war.
A detailed description of the events of this war,
the marches and countermarches, the battles and sieges, the
various success, first of one party and then of the other,
given historically in the order of time, would be as tedious
to read as the war itself was to endure. Alfred was very cautious
in all his operations, preferring rather to trust to the plan
of wearing out the enemy by cutting off their resources and
hemming them constantly in, than to incur the risk of great
decisive battles. In fact, watchfulness, caution, and delay
are generally the policy of the invaded when a powerful force
has succeeded in establishing itself among them; while, on
the other hand, the hope of invaders lies ordinarily
in prompt and decided action. Alfred was well aware of this,
and made all his arrangements with a view to cutting off Hastings's
supplies, shutting him up into as narrow a compass as possible,
heading him off in all his predatory excursions, intercepting
all detachments, and thus reducing him at length to the necessity
of surrender.
At one time, soon after the war began, Hastings,
true to the character of his nation for treachery and stratagem,
pretended that he was ready to surrender, and opened a negotiation
for this purpose. He agreed to leave the kingdom if Alfred
would allow him to depart peaceably, and also, which was a
point of great importance in Alfred's estimation, to have
his two sons baptized. While, however, these negotiations
were going on between the two camps, Alfred suddenly found
that the main body of Hastings's army had stolen away in the
rear, and were marching off by stealth to another part of
the country. The negotiations were, of course, immediately
abandoned, and Alfred set off with all his forces in full
pursuit. All hopes of peace were given up, and the usual series
of sieges, maneuverings, battles, and retreats was resumed
again.
On one occasion Alfred succeeded in taking possession
of Hastings's camp, when he had left it in security, as he
supposed, to go off for a time by sea on an expedition. Alfred's
soldiers found Hastings's wife and children in the camp, and
took them prisoners. They sent the terrified captives to Alfred,
to suffer, as they supposed, the long and cruel confinement
or the violent death to which the usages of those days consigned
such unhappy prisoners. Alfred baptized the children, and
then sent them, with their mother, loaded with presents and
proofs of kindness, back to Hastings again.
This generosity made no impression upon the heart
of Hastings, or, at least, it produced no effect upon his
conduct. He continued the war as energetically as ever. Months
passed away and new re-enforcements arrived, until at length
he felt strong enough to undertake an excursion into the very
heart of the country. He moved on for a time with triumphant
success; but this very success was soon the means of turning
the current against him again. It aroused the whole country
through which he was passing. The inhabitants flocked to arms.
They assembled at every rallying point, and, drawing up on
all sides nearer and nearer to Hastings's army, they finally
stopped his march, and forced him to call all his forces in,
and entrench himself in the first place of retreat that he
could find. Thus his very success was the means of turning
his good fortune into disaster.
And then, in the same way, the success of Alfred
and the Saxons soon brought disaster upon them too, in their
turn; for, after succeeding in shutting Hastings closely in,
and cutting off his supplies of food, they maintained their
watch and ward over their imprisoned enemies so closely as
to reduce them to extreme distress—a distress and suffering
which they thought would end in their complete and absolute
submission. Instead of ending thus, however, it aroused them
to desperation. Under the influence of the frenzy which such
hopeless sufferings produce in characters like theirs, they
burst out one day from the place of their confinement, and,
after a terrible conflict, which choked up a river which they
had to pass with dead bodies and dyed its waters with blood,
the great body of the starving desperadoes made their escape,
and, in a wild and furious excitement, half a triumph and
half a retreat, they went back to the eastern coast of the
island, where they found secure places of refuge to receive
them.
In the course of the subsequent campaigns, a party
of the Danes came up the River Thames with a fleet of their
vessels, and an account is given by some of the ancient historians
of a measure which Alfred resorted to to entrap them, which would seem to be scarcely credible. The
account is, that he altered the course of the river by digging new channels for it, so as to leave the vessels
all aground, when, of course, they became helpless, and fell
an easy prey to the attacks of their enemies. This is, at
least, a very improbable statement, for a river like the Thames
occupies always the lowest channel of the land through which
it passes to the sea. Besides, such a river, in order that
it should be possible for vessels to ascend it from the ocean,
must have the surface of its water very near the level of
the surface of the ocean. There can, therefore, be no place
to which such waters could be drawn off, unless into a valley
below the level of the sea. All such valleys, whenever they
exist in the interior of a country, necessarily get filled
with water from brooks and rains, and so become lakes or inland
seas. It is probable, therefore, that it was some other operation
which Alfred performed to imprison the hostile vessels in
the river, more possible in its own nature than the drawing
off of the waters of the Thames from their ancient bed.
Year after year passed on, and, though neither
the Saxons nor the Danes gained any very permanent and decisive
victories, the invaders were gradually losing ground, being
driven from one entrenchment and one stronghold to another,
until, at last, their only places of refuge were their ships,
and the harbors along the margin of the sea. Alfred followed
on and occupied the country as fast as the enemy was driven
away; and when, at last, they began to seek refuge in their
ships, he advanced to the shore, and began to form plans for
building ships, and manning and equipping a fleet, to pursue
his retiring enemies upon their own element. In this undertaking,
he proceeded in the same calm, deliberate, and effectual manner,
as in all his preceding measures. He built his vessels with
great care. He made them twice as long as those of the Danes,
and planned them so as to make them more steady, more safe,
and capable of carrying a crew of rowers so numerous as to
be more active and swift than the vessels of the enemy.
When these naval preparations were made, Alfred
began to look out for an object of attack on which he could
put their efficiency to the test. He soon heard of a fleet
of the Northmen's vessels on the
coast of the Isle of Wight, and he sent a fleet of his own
ships to attack them. He charged the commander of this fleet
to be sparing of life, but to capture the ships and take the
men, bringing as many as possible to him unharmed.
There were nine of the English vessels, and when
they reached the Isle of Wight they found six vessels of the
Danes in a harbor there. Three of these Danish vessels were
afloat, and came out boldly to attack Alfred's armament. The
other three were upon the shore, where they had been left
by the tide, and were, of course, disabled and defenseless
until the water should rise and float them again. Under these
circumstances, it would seem that the victory for Alfred's
fleet would have been easy and sure; and at first the result
was, in fact, in Alfred's favor. Of the three ships that came
out to meet him, two were captured, and one escaped, with
only five men left on board of it alive. The Saxon ships,
after thus disposing of the three living and moving enemies,
pushed boldly into the harbor to attack those which were lying
lifeless on the sands. They found, however, that, though successful
in the encounter with the active and the powerful, they were
destined to disaster and defeat in approaching the defenseless
and weak. They got aground themselves in approaching the shoals
on which the vessels of their enemies were lying. The tide
receded and left three of the vessels on the sands, and kept
the rest so separated and so embarrassed by the difficulties
and dangers of their situation as to expose the whole force
to the most imminent danger. There was a fierce contest in
boats and on the shore. Both parties suffered very severely;
and, finally, the Danes, getting first released, made their
escape and put to sea.
Notwithstanding this partial discomfiture, Alfred
soon succeeded in driving the ships of the Danes off his coast,
and in thus completing the deliverance of his country. Hastings
himself went to France, where he spent the remainder of his
days in some territories which he had previously conquered,
enjoying, while he continued to live, and for many ages afterward,
a very extended and very honorable fame. Such exploits as
those which he had performed conferred, in those days, upon
the hero who performed them, a very high distinction, the
luster of which seems not to have been at all tarnished in
the opinions of mankind by any ideas of the violence and wrong
which the commission of such deeds involved.
Alfred's dominions were now left once more in peace,
and he himself resumed again his former avocations. But a
very short period of his life, however, now remained. Hastings
was finally expelled from England about 897. In 900 or 901
Alfred died. The interval was spent in the same earnest and
devoted efforts to promote the welfare and prosperity of his
kingdom that his life had exhibited before the war. He was
engaged diligently and industriously in repairing injuries,
redressing grievances, and rectifying everything that was
wrong. He exacted rigid impartiality in all the courts of
justice; he held public servants of every rank and station
to a strict accountability; and in all the colleges, and monasteries,
and ecclesiastical establishments of every kind, he corrected
all abuses, and enforced a rigid discipline, faithfully extirpating
from every lurking place all semblance of immorality or vice.
He did these things, too, with so much kindness and consideration
for all concerned, and was actuated in all he did so unquestionably
by an honest and sincere desire to fulfill his duty to his
people and to God, that nobody opposed him. The good considered
him their champion, the indifferent readily caught a portion
of his spirit and wished him success, while the wicked were
silenced if they were not changed.
Alfred's children had grown up to maturity, and
seemed to inherit, in some degree, their father's character.
He had a daughter, named Æthelfleda,
who was married to a prince of Mercia, and who was famed all
over England for the superiority of her mental powers, her
accomplishments, and her moral worth. The name of his oldest
son was Edward; he was to succeed Alfred on the throne, and
it was a source now of great satisfaction to the king to find
this son emulating his virtues, and preparing for an honorable
and prosperous reign. Alfred had warning, in the progress
of his disease, of the approach of his end. When he found
that the time was near at hand, he called his son Edward to
his side, and gave him these his farewell counsels, which
express in few words the principles and motives by which his
own life had been so fully governed.
"Thou, my dear son, set 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 to be 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."
Alfred was fifty-two years of
age when he died. His death was universally lamented. The
body was interred in the great cathedral at Winchester. The
kingdom passed peacefully and prosperously to his son, and
the arrangements which Alfred had spent his life in framing
and carrying into effect, soon began to work out their happy
results. The constructions which he founded stand to the present
day, strengthened and extended rather than impaired by the
hand of time; and his memory, as their founder, will be honored
as long as any remembrance of the past shall endure among
the minds of men.
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