Ælfhere’s heirloom, a lord’s legacy,
Hangs from my shoulders, a wide-webbed,
Good corselet, adorned with gold— 25
A princely plunder, no mean shirt
For a lord to wear when he defends himself,
Protecting his treasure of life and limb
From fierce foes with his hard hands.
It will not betray my trust, break open 30
My bone-cave, when my enemies attack,
Greet me with swords as you have done.
One will grant victory who is strong and sure,
Swift to settle judgment with a righteous hand,
Hard and resolute in his grim reckoning. 35
A man who has faith in that holy power,
Who trusts in God to deliver divine aid,
Will find his support always at hand,
His strength and power ready to sustain him,
If he has done good deeds and deserves help. 40
Then proud men will share their wealth,
Hand out riches, rule over lands.
That is—”
* * *
THE BATTLE OF MALDON
The Battle of Maldon is based on a transcription by John Elphinston in the early eighteenth century before the original in MS Cotton Otho A.xii was destroyed in the fire of 1731. This is a heroic poem that gives poetic treatment to a battle that took place in 991 between Anglo-Saxons and Vikings; it was probably written in the decades after the battle. Donoghue notes that “although it draws on the specifics of the local geography and personal names, the poem clothes the action with literary conventions that create a general tone of nostalgia for a timeless heroic past” (15). Grand speeches are offered in the middle of violent battle-clashes. Arrows are suspended to give time for the making of moral judgments. Vikings blend into a horde of tormenting demons, and Byrhtnoth prays that his spirit will be “carried in peace / To the place of angels.”
A little geography is necessary to explain the nature of Byrhtnoth’s controversial decision to allow the Vikings access to the mainland battlefield. Near the town of Maldon in the tidal flats is Northey Island; the river Pante (now Blackwater) flows to the north of it and Southey Creek to the south. The rivers flow into the sea. At high tide, the island is entirely cut off from the mainland to the west. At low tide, there is a causeway of stones about eight feet wide and eighty yards long that allows passage of limited numbers at a time between the island and the mainland.
The Vikings have anchored their ships and set up camp on the island. They stand at the western shore waiting for the tide to go out so they can come west across the causeway or “bridge” to engage the Anglo-Saxon troops gathered on the mainland. At the beginning of the poem, the two sides call out their challenges and responses across the water while the tide is in and passage is blocked. When the tide goes out, the Vikings start to come across the causeway in small numbers at a time and are easily ambushed by the Anglo-Saxon archers. Obviously the war-savvy Vikings will not march endlessly to their doom in this fashion. They call out to Byrhtnoth to allow them to come across for a “fair fight,” snidely questioning the Anglo-Saxons’ courage and offering to take tribute instead of lives, mocking the English with devious and dark humor.
Unfortunately, Byrhtnoth allows the Vikings to come across the causeway because of his ofermod, literally his “overweening pride,” or “too much heart or temper.” Perhaps Byrhtnoth’s ofermod is like Greek hubris, a necessary self-confidence carried into battle, but here passing over into unbounded pride that leads to tragedy. What is never in doubt, however, is the courage shown by most of Byrhtnoth’s battlefield retainers as they die avenging the death of their lord.
The opening and closing lines of the poem are missing, probably a few lines from the beginning and a more substantial passage at the end (Scragg, 16). From the context it is also clear that something is missing after line 285, and I have supplied lines 286–88 in an attempt to recover the sense of the lost passage. For more on the poem from a variety of contexts (heroic tradition, military tactics, geography of the causeway, etc.), see Scragg’s collection of essays, The Battle of Maldon, AD 991.
The Battle of Maldon
* * *
and that was broken.
Then Byrhtnoth commanded his courageous warriors
To dismount quickly and drive off their horses,
Move forward on foot, trusting hands and hearts.
That’s when Offa’s kinsman first found 5
That the earl would never endure slackers,
Keep cowards in his company. The leader let fly
From his hand his beloved, brave hawk
Which took to the woods while he stepped up
To meet the battle, a man of his word. 10
Then warriors knew that he would not weaken
In war-play but wield his battle-weapon.
Eadric also intended to serve his lord;
He lifted his shield and broad sword,
Embracing battle. He fulfilled his boast 15
On the mead-bench that he would drink danger
And fight fiercely to defend his lord.
Then Byrhtnoth began to rally his troops,
Advising his men. He rode to each group,
Giving instructions, teaching and telling them 20
How they should stand and hold their lines,
Grasping their shields hard in their hands,
Forgetting fear, refusing to yield.
When his troops were ready, he gave up his horse,
Walking among them where he longed to be, 25
Where his hearth-companions kept courage.
Then a Viking messenger, the marauders’ mouthpiece,
Stood up on the shore, announcing from the island
On the opposite bank a boast to the earl
From bold seafarers, baiting Byrhtnoth: 30
“Brave sea-warriors sent me here to simply say
That you might want to give us gold rings
As a defense, rich gifts and offerings
To ease your peril, protect your people.
A tribute of treasure is always better 35
Than receiving a rush of battle-spears
When we exchange both blade and blood.
If you, Byrhtnoth, lord and leader,
Mightiest of men, would redeem your people,
Then give us what we ask, the price of peace— 40
Then seafarers can go home with your gold,
Offering a promise of protection and peace,
And you can be whole in heart and home.”
Byrhtnoth responded, raising his shield,
Brandished his ash-spear, angry and resolute— 45
Calling on courage, he threw back this answer:
“Can you hear, seafarer, you hated pirate,
What my people say? They will give you spears
As a take-home treasure, bitter blades
And savage swords. Trust this tribute— 50
A booty that will not help you much in battle.
Messenger of the Vikings, mouthpiece of evil,
Bear back to your men this hard, grim vow:
Here on this shore stands an earl with his troop
Who will defend his homeland, kith and kin, 55
The land of Æthelred, my own dear lord.
You heathens shall be hewed down in battle.
It would be a shame to have come so far
Only to retreat to your ships with our tribute,
Embarking in boats instead of in battle. 60
Seamen cannot so easily steal our gold.
Let’s resolve this argument with the edge of iron
In the battle-play of blades, not devious words.”
Then Byrhtnoth ordered his men to bear shields
To the stream’s bank by the causeway-bridge. 65
The tide was in, so neither band could safely cross;
The ebb-tide flowed acro
ss the bridge.
It seemed too long to wait to lift their spears.
On both sides of the River Pante, the warriors waited,
East-Saxons on the shore, seamen on the island, 70
An army of ash-spears. They couldn’t kill
Each other except by death-arching arrows.
The tide turned, the flood went out,
The causeway cleared. Vikings stood ready,
Ravenous for war. Byrhtnoth ordered 75
The battle-hard Wulfstan, son of Ceola,
To hold the bridge. He speared the first seaman
Bold enough to step across the stones.
Two fearless fighters, Ælfhere and Maccus,
Guarded the ford against the fiends’ crossing, 80
Letting no one pass while they might wield weapons.
When the Vikings knew that the narrow bridge
Would be blocked by fierce fighting Saxons,
Those alien guests began to offer guile,
To bait their trap with warped words, 85
Asked out of courtesy the chance to come
Across the causeway for a fair fight.
Then with a brash heart, Byrhtnoth began
To yield the bridge to the savage seamen—
Offered too eagerly an untouched crossing. 90
Byrhthelm’s bold son called across the stream,
Where the Viking warriors laughed and listened:
“The causeway is opened to you. Come quickly to us.
Let’s greet each other as equals in battle.
Only God knows who will wield power 95
And be standing after strife in the slaughter-field.”
The ravenous wolves crossed the bridge
Without worry over the shallow water.
Over the river came the Viking hordes,
Bearing linden-shields over bright water. 100
Byrhtnoth and his men were brave guardians
Against the grim wolves’ fierce crossing.
He ordered the shield-wall raised high
Against the surge of seafarers. It was battle-time—
The hour for heroes to gather glory, 105
For hard, fated men to fall in fight.
Screams were raised in the clash of swords—
Ravens circled, screeching for corpses—
The eagle was ravenous for a feast of flesh—
All earth was in endless uproar. 110
Warriors thrust file-hardened spears
From their hands, grim shafts at guts—
Bows were busy, shields shot with arrows—
Bitter was the battle-rush. Warriors fell
On both sides—youngbloods lay dead. 115
Wulfmær was wounded, nephew of Byrhtnoth—
He chose a slaughter-bed, savaged by swords.
Cruel death was common, repaid in kind.
I heard that Eadweard slew one with his sword—
The doomed Dane fell dead at his feet. 120
His lord gave him thanks for that later.
The Saxons stood strong-hearted in battle,
Each man looking for a life to take,
To catch the heart of a warrior with his weapon.
Slaughter fell on earth like bloody snow. 125
The Saxon defenders were all steadfast.
Byrhtnoth directed them, urged them on,
Bade each warrior to brood upon battle,
To win great glory against the Danes,
Fame in fighting and a warrior’s doom. 130
A battle-hard Dane came after Byrhtnoth,
Who lifted his shield to defend his body.
Each warrior was resolute, earl against churl—
Each plotted murder against his aggressor.
The churl was quicker—the seaman thrust 135
His southern spear into the earl.
Byrhtnoth broke that shaft with his shield
With such force that it shivered and shook out.
That battle-lord sprang up in bold rage,
Stabbed the proud Viking who had speared his breast— 140
The wise warrior shoved his Saxon spear
Through the Viking’s neck, guiding with his grip
So that he reached the life of the fierce raider.
Then he speared another venomous Viking
Whose chain-mail burst. He was breast-dead, 145
Killed through his corselet, pierced through his heart.
This pleased Byrhtnoth more—he lit up with laughter,
Thanked God for a good day’s work with the Danes.
Then a pirate speared him, threw his shaft
Through Byrhtnoth’s chest with his hard hands, 150
Draining the life of Æthelred’s noble thane.
By the earl’s side stood a boy in battle,
A brave young Saxon who plucked the spear,
The bloody shaft out of Byrhtnoth’s body.
The youngster was Wulfmær, Wulfstan’s son. 155
He sent the spear back to its Viking owner,
Point-first so the fierce one fell to the ground,
Killing the one who had wounded his lord.
Then an armed Viking approached the earl
To plunder his body, seize armor and rings, 160
Take home the treasure of his decorated sword.
Then Byrhtnoth drew his sword from its sheath,
Broad and gleaming, and cut through the mail-coat
Of the Viking marauder. Like lightning
Another seaman slashed through his arm 165
So his gold-hilted sword fell to the ground.
Byrhtnoth could no longer hold up his spear,
Wield his weapon. Yet the grizzled warrior
Encouraged his troops to go boldly forward,
Never forgetting camaraderie and kin, 170
Never forgoing their commitment and courage.
He couldn’t stand any longer on his feet—
He looked up at Heaven and spoke these words:
“I offer you thanks, Lord of my people,
For all of the joys I’ve experienced in this world. 175
Now I have need, gentle protector,
For the gift of grace, so my spirit can soar
Away from this slaughter into the arms
Of my Father’s embrace, carried in peace
To the place of angels. I beg this boon: 180
Let me be freed from the savage hell-fiends.”
Then the heathens hewed him down
With two warriors who stood beside him,
Ælfnoth and Wulfmær, loyal Saxons
Who gave up their lives, fighting for their lord. 185
Then three warriors bolted from battle,
The sons of Odda, cowardly brothers,
Deserting their lord to save their lives.
Godric was the first to flee in shame,
Leaving his lord who had given him horses. 190
He leapt in the saddle of Byrhtnoth’s steed
And galloped off. That was not right.
Godwine and Godwig followed behind;
They shunned their duty and sought safety
In the nearby woods. Many warriors followed 195
Who should have remembered their lord’s favors
And kept their trust. So Offa had once said
To his lord Byrhtnoth in a meadhall meeting
That many who spoke boldly there in the hall
Would never make good on the field of battle. 200
So Byrhtnoth fell, Æthelred’s earl,
The protector of his people. His hearth-companions
Knew in their hearts that their lord lay dead.
Then the proud thanes went forward
Eager and undaunted, hungry for battle. 205
They wanted one of two outcomes:
To leave life or avenge their lord.
So the noble Ælfwine, Ælfric’s son,
Young in his years, ur
ged them on,
Exhorted the warriors with bold words: 210
“Remember the speeches we bravely shared
At the meadhall tables—we boasted from the benches
That we would be heroes, hard-fighting in battle.
Now we’ll see who’s worthy of his vow,
Who’ll back up his boast in the rush of battle. 215
I will make known my lineage to all of you:
I come from a mighty family of Mercians;
My grandfather was Ealhelm, a wise nobleman,
A lord and landowner. My people at home
Will have no reason to reproach me for flight 220
From the battlefield, for seeking safety
And skulking home, now that Byrhtnoth
Lies broken in battle. This is my greatest grief—
For he was both my kinsman and lord.”
Then he went forth, his mind on vengeance, 225
Reaching a seafarer’s heart with his spear,
Piercing that pirate’s loathsome life.
He urged the troops on, his friends and comrades.
Then Offa shook his spear and spoke:
“So Ælfwine, you’ve encouraged us all 230
In our time of need. Our lord lies dead,
Slain by a spear, an earl on the earth.
Each of us needs to encourage the other
To battle these heathens with hand and heart,
Spear-thrust and blade-bite, 235
While we can still wield weapons.
Godric the cowardly son of Odda
Has betrayed us all. Too many believed,
When they saw him mounted on that fine horse
And fleeing to the wood, that it was our lord. 240
Many broke ranks—the shield-wall was breached.
Curse him and his memory for his lack of courage
Which has caused too many men to flee.”
Leofsunu lifted his strong linden shield
In defense and defiance, speaking these words: 245
“I promise not to flee one foot from this field.
I will avenge my lord Byrhtnoth in battle.
The steadfast warriors in my hometown Sturmere
Will have no reason to reproach me with words,
Saying that once my leader lay dead on the ground, 250
I left the battlefield lordless to come home safe.
I will seize sword and spear, wield my weapons.”
He went like a warrior full of righteous wrath,
Fighting boldly in battle and scorning flight.
Then Dunnere spoke, shaking his spear, 255
A simple man with short words,
Urging each warrior to avenge Byrhtnoth:
The Complete Old English Poems Page 104