Excerpt from :Battle of Maldon" 911AD Saxons versus Vikings.
Byrhtnoth and his warriors awaited them,
ready for battle: he ordered his men
to form a battle-hedge with their shields, and to stand firm
against the onslaught of the enemy. Then the battle,
with its chance of glory, about to begin. The time had come
for all the doomed men to fall in the fight.
The clamor began; the ravens wheeled and the eagle
circled overhead, craving for carrion; there was shouting on earth.
From hands then they threw their file-hard spears
and sent sharp darts flying from their hands.
Bow strings were busy, shields took spear-point,
bitter was the battle-rush! [brave men fell
on both sides, young men lay dead.
Byrhtnoth’s sister-son, Wulfmær, was wounded;
slashed by the sword, he decided
to sleep on the bed of death[/u].
This was violently requited, the Vikings were repaid in kind.
I heard that Eadweard swung his sword
so savagely, a full-blooded blow,
that a fated warrior fell lifeless at his feet.
Byrhtnoth shouted out his thanks to him,
His hearth-companion, as soon as he had a chance to do so.
The brave men stood resolute, rock-firm
young men at war, eagerly worked
to see who might be the first to win
the life of a doomed man with his spear,
soldiers with weapons; slaughter fell on earth.
But the rest stood battle-hard and Byrhtnoth spurred them on,
inciting each man to fight ferociously
who wished to gain glory against the Danes.
Then a brave sea-warrior raised up his spear,
gripped his shield and advanced towards Byrhtnoth.
The resolute earl advanced towards the churl;
each had evil intentions for the other.
The sea-warrior was the quicker he hurled his foreign spear,
wounding the lord of the warriors.
Byrhtnoth broke the shaft with the edge of his shield;
the imbedded spear-head sprang out of his wound.
Then he flung his spear in fury
at the sea-warrior who dared inflict such pain.
His aim was skillful. The spear
slit open the proud Viking’s neck.
Thus Byrhtnoth took the life of his attacker.
Then, for safety’s sake, he swiftly hurled another
which burst the Viking’s ring-locked mail, cruelly wounding him
in the chest; the deadly spear pierced his heart.
The brave earl, Byrhtnoth, delighted at this;
he laughed out loud and thanked his Maker
for the day-work God had given him.
But one of the Vikings sent a sharp hand-dart
speeding from his hand
that pierced the body of the noble thane of Æthelred.
By his side stood a young warrior,
Wulfmær by name, Wulfstan’s son,
who without a moment’s hesitation
drew out the blood-red spear from Byrhtnoth’s side
and hurled it back as hard as he could
at the man who had grievously injured his prince.
The sharp point struck home; the Viking sank into the earth.
Another seafarer advanced on the earl, meaning to make
short work of him and snatch away his treasures
his armor and his rings and his ornamented sword.
Byrhtnoth drew out his sword from its sheath,
Broad and bright-edged, and struck against byrnie,
but his enemy stopped him all too soon,
savagely striking Byrhtnoth’s arm.
The golden-hilted sword dropped from his hand.
He could hold it no longer
nor wield a weapon of any kind. Then the old warrior
raised his men’s morale with bold words,
called on his brave companions to do battle again.
He no longer stood firmly on his feet
but swayed, and raised his eyes to heaven:
“O Guardian of the people, let me praise and thank you
for all the real joys I received in this world.
Now, gracious Lord, as never before, I need your grace,
that my soul may set out on its journey to
You, O Prince of Angels, that my soul may depart
into Your power in peace. I pray
that the hell-scathers13 may never destroy it.”
Then the heathens hewed him down
and the two men who had stood by him;
Ælfnoth and Wulfmær, fell to the ground,
both gave their lives in defense of their lord.
Then certain cowards beat a hasty retreat:
the sons of Odda were the first to take flight;
Godric fled from the battle, abandoning Byrhtnoth.
who had often given him many horses.
He leapt into the saddle
of his lord’s own horse, where he had no right,
and both his brothers, Godwine and Godwig,
galloped beside him. Forgetting their duty, 190
they fled from the fight
and saved their lives in the silent wood.
And more men followed than was at all fitting
had they remembered the former rewards
that the prince had given them, generous presents.
It was just as Offa once said to Byrhtnoth
at an open council in the meeting place,
that many spoke proudly of their prowess
who would prove unworthy of their words under battle-stress.
So Æthelred’s earl, the prince of those people,
fell; all his hearth-companions
could see for themselves that their lord lay low.1
We used to be able to deal with our enemies...probably still can when pushed....We could do with Byrhtnoth now.
"The more we are hewed the more we shall hew our enemies down'
There's more, it's worth reading.
