An Island Story by H. E. Marshall (ebook pc reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: H. E. Marshall
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‘ALFRED FOUND MUCH PLEASURE IN READING.’
Alfred was the youngest son of Ethelwulf, who was King of Wessex, one of the seven kingdoms into which England was divided. He was also the grandson of Egbert, that king who changed the name of Britain to England.
Although Ethelwulf was really king only of Wessex, he was “over-lord” over all the rulers of the other seven kingdoms of England. So you must remember, when we speak of the King of England at this time, that we do not mean that he was the only king in the land. But Wessex was the chief of the seven kingdoms, and the King of Wessex was the chief of the seven kings. In the end the King of Wessex became real king of all England, while the other kingdoms disappeared and their kings were forgotten.
King Ethelwulf’s wife was called Osburga. She was a good and wise woman, and a very kind mother to her little children. She was clever, too, and fond of reading, which was rather uncommon in those days when very few people could read or cared about it.
In the time of the Romans, you remember, books were written on strips of parchment, and rolled up like maps. Now they were shaped and bound just like our books, only as there was no paper and no printing, they were still written on parchment and the pictures were all painted by hand. It took a long time to make a book, and required a great deal of money to buy one.
One day when Alfred, the youngest son of King Ethelwulf, was quite a tiny boy, he was playing with his big brothers, while Osburga, his mother, sat watching them, and reading.
The book she read was one of old English songs. Osburga was very fond of these songs, and used to say them to her little boys when they were tired of play. It was a pretty book, full of pictures and bright letters in gold, and blue, and red.
As Osburga turned the pages Alfred saw the pretty pictures, so he left his play, and came to lean against his mother’s knee, to look at them.
“What a pretty book it is, mother!” he said.
“Do you like it, little one?” said Osburga.
“Yes, mother, I do,” replied Alfred.
Then all the other boys came crowding round their mother to see the pretty book too. They pressed against her, and leaned over her shoulder till nothing was to be seen but five curly heads close together.
“Oh, isn’t it lovely!” they said, as Osburga slowly turned the pages, explaining the pictures, and letting them look at the beautiful colored letters at the beginnings of the songs.
When Osburga saw how they all liked the book, she was very much pleased. She pushed them all away from her a little, and looked round their happy eager faces. You see in those days even kings’ sons had no picture-books, such as every child has now, and it was quite a treat for these princes to be allowed to look at this beautiful one.
“Do you truly like this book?” asked Osburga.
“Oh yes, mother, we do,” they all answered at once.
“Then, boys,” she said, “I will give it to the one who first learns to read it.”
“O mother, do you mean it? May I try too?” asked Alfred.
“Yes, I do mean it, and, of course, you may try,” answered Osburga, smiling at him. And perhaps she hoped that he would win the prize, for both his father and his mother loved Alfred best of all their children.
And Alfred did win the prize. He was so eager to have the book that he worked hard all day long. And one morning, while his big brothers were still trying to read the book, he came to his mother and read it without making any mistakes.
Then Osburga kissed him and gave him the prize, as she had promised. All his life afterwards Alfred was fond of books; and even when he became king, and had many, many other things to do, he still found time not only to read, but to write them.
KING ALFRED IN THE COWHERD’S COTTAGE
When Ethelwulf, Alfred’s father, died, each of his sons became king in turn. During these reigns the Danes became more and more troublesome. Nearly all the time was spent in fighting, so that the country came to be in a very sad state indeed.
When Ethelred (who was the last of Ethelwulf’s sons except Alfred) came to the throne, Alfred had grown to be a man, and although he was still very young, he helped his brother a great deal. And when Ethelred died, the people chose Alfred to be their king. For although Ethelred had two sons, they were little boys, and no one thought of making either of them king. The people knew that a strong and wise man was needed to rule in England, and Alfred was both strong and wise.
No king has ever had to fight more bravely for his kingdom than Alfred had. When he came to the throne, the Danes were growing more and more bold. They did not now only come in their ships to plunder and rob, and then sail away again. They came now to live in the land, killing the people, and then taking their houses for themselves.
So all the first years of Alfred’s reign were spent in fighting these fierce enemies. But Alfred did not only fight bravely, he thought too.
The Danes were brave and daring sailors, just as the English had been before they came to live in England. But somehow after the English settled down, they seem to have forgotten about how to build ships and how to sail upon the sea.
But Alfred was wise and saw how much better it would be to stop the Danes before they landed at all. So he built ships and went in them to fight the Danes on the sea.
In the year 875 A.D., King Alfred and his ships met the Danes and their ships and fought a great battle and won a great victory. That was the first of many, many sea-victories which the English have won, and ever since the days of Alfred, England has had a navy and Britannia has ruled the waves.
“Ye mariners of England
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag had braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze;
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow;
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.
Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep;
Her march is on the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below,
As they roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.”
But even although Alfred gained this battle at sea, the Danes were not beaten altogether. Again and again Alfred had to fight, but at last he forced the Danes to make peace. They swore by a most solemn and dreadful oath that they would go away and never make war against the English again. This vow was taken with great ceremony. Sheep and cattle were killed and offered in sacrifice to the heathen gods, for the Danes, you remember were heathen. A beautiful ring of gold, called the holy bracelet, was dipped in the blood of the animals. The bracelet was then placed upon an altar and, laying their hands upon it, the Danish chiefs swore to fight no more against the English.
This was not the first time that the Danes had promised to go away and fight no more, but they had always broken their promises. Now Alfred thought they would be sure to keep their word, because of the very solemn vow they had taken.
But the Danes did not mean to keep this promise any more than the others. Very soon they came back again as bold as before, or bolder. Once more fierce battles raged, till at last, weary of fighting, and forsaken by nearly all his followers, Alfred was forced to hide for a time in the marshes of Somerset.
This was the saddest part of Alfred’s life. He was a king, yet he had neither crown nor royal robes, neither palace nor servants. He was so poor that he went to live in the cottage of a cowherd called Denewulf. His clothes were so old and worn that the cowherd’s wife thought that he was a friend of her husband, and so she treated him as if he had been a common man and not a great king.
One day Denewulf’s wife was very busy. She had been baking cakes, and had still many things to do. Alfred meanwhile was sitting by the fire. He had been mending his bow and arrows, but they had dropped from his hand, for, thinking deeply about his kingdom and his people, and of how he could free them from the Danes, he had forgotten all else.
It seemed to Denewulf’s wife that Alfred was a lazy sort of fellow. She did not know the great matters he had to think of, and she wondered how any one could sit for hours by the fire doing nothing, while she and her husband had to work so hard.
Now, she said to herself, this lazy fellow can at least look after my cakes, while I go to do something else.
“Here, good man,” she said to him, “just mind my cakes for me. And don’t let them burn. When they are nice and brown on one side, turn them over on to the other side, like this—” and she showed him how to do it.
“All right, good wife, I will look after your cakes for you,” replied Alfred.
But when the good woman had gone, Alfred sank once more deep in thought. As he watched the cakes, he looked into the fire. Soon, in the red glow of the burning ashes, he saw wonderful things. The cakes and the cowherd’s cottage vanished. Once again he was leading his army, his banner with its golden dragons fluttered in the breeze, his spear was in his hand, his crown upon his head. He heard the shout of his soldiers as they charged the Danes. The ranks of the enemy broke, they fled—to their ships they fled. Fast behind them came the English. They set fire to the Danish ships. He smelt the smoke as it rolled upward, heard the crackle of the flames, the shrieks of the dying, the shouts of victory. England was saved.
Then suddenly he was awakened out of his dream by a blow to his shoulder, and an angry voice in his ear,
“Cans’t thee not mind the cakes, man?
���And doesn’t thee see them burn?
I’s bound thee’ll eat them fast enough
���As soon as ‘tis thy turn.”
Alas! the cakes, and not the Danish ships, were burning. Alfred was a great king, but he had proved a poor cook; and the good wife was very angry.
She scolded him well, little thinking that she was scolding her King. She was still rating when Denewulf came in.
“Hush thee, woman, hush thee,” he said, ashamed and frightened.
“Hush, shall I?” she cried angrily. “The lazy loon, the idle good-for-naught, to sit by the fire, and see the cakes burn, and never stir a finger.”
“Hush thee, woman,” said Denewulf again in despair. “It is the King.”
“The King!” cried the good wife, astonished, and a little frightened too. “Well, king or no king,” she added grumblingly after a minute, “he ought to have
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