, when the royal spy slipped from the camp of his foes he bore
with him an accurate mind-picture of the numbers, the discipline, and
the arrangement of the Danish force, which would be of the highest value
in the coming fray.

Meanwhile, the Saxon hosts were gathering. When the day fixed by the
king arrived they were there: men from Hampshire, Wiltshire, Devonshire,
and Somerset; men in smaller numbers from other counties; all glad to
learn that England was on its feet again, all filled with joy to see
their king in the field. Their shouts filled the leafy alleys of the
forest, they hailed the king as the land's avenger, every heart beat
high with assurance of victory. Before night of the day of meeting the
woodland camp was overcrowded with armed men, and at dawn of the next
day Alfred led them to a place named Icglea, where, on the forest's
edge, a broad plain spread with a morass on its front. All day long
volunteers came to the camp; by night Alfred had an army in open field,
in place of the guerilla band with which, two days before, he had
lurked in the green aisles of Selwood forest, like a Robin Hood of an
earlier day, making the verdant depths of the greenwood dales his home.

At dawn of the next day the king marshalled his men in battle array, and
occupied the summit of Ethandune, a lofty eminence in the vicinity of
his camp. The Danes, fiery with barbaric valor, boldly advanced, and the
two armies met in fierce affray, shouting their war-cries, discharging
arrows and hurling javelins, and rushing like wolves of war to the
closer and more deadly hand-to-hand combat of sword and axe, of the
shock of the contending forces, the hopes and fears of victory and
defeat, the deeds of desperate valor, the mighty achievements of noted
chiefs, on that hard-fought field no Homer has sung, and they must
remain untold. All we know is that the Danes fought with desperate
valor, the English with a courage inspired by revenge, fear of slavery,
thirst for liberty, and the undaunted resolution of men whose every blow
was struck for home and fireside.

In the end patriotism prevailed over the baser instinct of piracy; the
Danes were defeated, and driven in tumultuous hosts to their intrenched
camp, falling in multitudes as they fled, for the incensed English laid
aside all thought of mercy in the hot fury of pursuit.

Only when within the shelter of his works was Guthrum able to make head
against his victorious foe. The camp se