AUTHOR'S FOREWORD

The origins of the so-called Anglo-Saxons are obscure. The founding of their kingdoms is more the stuff of legend than of history. The Kingdom of Wessex is said to date from the year 519 with the crowning of their first king, Cerdic, at Winchester.

The original name of these people is the Gewisse, which may mean the "trustees". It is known that the late Roman Emperors used Germanic peoples as mercenary troops and this title of trustees could imply these people derived their origins from garrisons left isolated at the time of the decline of empire. The Archaeological record, where it exists, points to there having been a settlement at Dorchester on Thames. This is about halfway between the Thames estuary and the Severn Sea. Should these peoples have been "invaders" this is a strange place for them to have landed!

This saga is about an obscure time so I have chosen to use some blank verse for some of the descriptions. This is a difficult form for me and too hard to maintain throughout the work.

Saint Gildas the Wise wrote of the "Saxons" that: "...it was foretold by a certain soothsayer among them, that they should occupy the country... three hundred years, and half that time, a hundred and fifty years, should plunder and despoil the same." (From: "De Excidio Britanniae" Chapter 23)

After the defeat at Mount Badon, a hill overlooking the sacred springs at Bath, the Saxons were almost totally annihilated by the warlord (or Dux Bellorum) of the Britons. All that was left of Gewisse's lands were enclaves of scattered farmsteads in the forests about Abingdon and Dorchester on Thames. Further attempts at their total destruction may have proved too expensive in men's lives. The surviving Gewisse fought the way folk do who face a certain death. In this saga their leader, Cerdic, guided by Aelfwine the soothsayer sought out the goddess Yeoster [1] for her prophesy.

This saga must be seen as a fable, but it is a fable that is woven about the few-recorded events that have come down to us. It is strange that the modern day English should honour the memory of King Arthur who, if he existed at all as a single individual, dedicated his life to a genocide against the ancestors of the English people of today. Following the Defeat at Mount Badon the Britons were so secure in their lands that they could engage in the luxury of civil wars. Between the years 516 and the emergence of a powerful Kingdom of Wessex in 577 there must have been some canny guiding hands that enabled this people to survive and then to flourish. These were the true though now anonymous heroes of the dark ages. They survived and they flourished where others did not.

Similarly after the defeat at Dyrham the Britons of the southwest maintained the independence of their kingdoms of Dumnonia and Kernow (Devon and Cornwall) for several centuries to come. They too must have had true determination.

My reason for choosing the origin of the Gewisse as being Friesian is that the syntax of English is most likely derived from the ancient Friesian language and not from the German of Saxony.

Trevor Morgan
Rockwell Green: Somerset

Wessex Sagas
CERDIC'S SAGA: (THE BEGINNINGS)

Prelude

A Corps of Auxiliary Troops A.D.408

An order came commanding them to move
To Dorchester on Thames to hold a fort
From Gaul by ship it took them three long days
For five days more they marched along old roads
Departing troops had left some years before
It took them months of toil to put things right
Another order came that gave to them
The trusteeship of lands there and about
And this they did for forty months and more
The pay then stopped and no more message came
As civil wars and plagues raged through the land
The trust they had they held and held that fort
The oath they took was binding on all men
Until relieved they may not move from here
An oath sworn in the names of all their gods
Was no light thing that could be put aside
Nor broken lest the wrath of gods descend
Now to one special goddess they were tied
The ancient sacred female, mother earth,
Her names were many and they had their own
They called her "Mystic Yeoster, Three-In-One;
The girl, the wife, the crone, all life and death,
The earth, the fertile womb that bears all life,
The soil, the dew, the rain", they all are her,
And in her names all sacred oaths were made
When sworn their oaths could never be betrayed

Fortitude

This trusteeship they held throughout their lives
Obdurate, none of them could break a word
But long years passed and most got local wives
Yet they stuck to their oaths quite undeterred
When bands of Britons came all were on horse
All clad in mail with lance and sword and shield
Each ordered them to leave and threatened force
Through fights that followed they would never yield
The Britons tired and took to other things
Though always taunted them as "foreign dirt"
But feared their fighting skill and feared their slings
For fighting them would lead to dreadful hurt
This xenophobic land seemed wanting Grace
But they were tied as trustees [2] of this place

They tried to blend, their wives were local folk
They always gave each child a local name
But they remained the butt of every joke
Their role it seemed was that they were "to blame"
They shared a common home a common kin
Relieved form out their oath they could go back
Tied to it here they'd fight and die or win
But long years passed and weeds grew on each track
Then everything about had all gone wrong.
From Britons they would face a constant gibe
But they were never beat and they grew strong
What once had been a troop became a tribe
Though fortitude's a sign of good within
Obduracy forever is a sin!

A shadow of great darkness crossed the land
Within its shades none may know what went on
Some guess some claim but none may understand
A mighty empire faded and was gone
Beyond the shades a motley pattern lay
A mix of peoples and of cultures too
And each it seemed strove hard to have their way
A blood stained land within a sea still blue
And struggles just like tides may turn about
Defeated peoples flee from off a field
Then victors in their turn might face a rout
As vanquished foes cause conquerors to yield
So fortitude's a virtue not a sin
But fortitude alone secures no win!

Honouring of Oaths

The Gewisse, they held that place they held that land
They honoured sacred oaths that they had made
But genocidal beasts were close at hand
All migrant peoples could be slaves for trade
The Britons sought to cleanse their land of folk
Who did not come from out their ancient line
To drive all out with one great hammer stroke
They prayed their god should bring to them a sign
They rallied round the banner of one man
This Dux Bellorum was a man of blood
Most migrant folks he fought, he overran
He'd trample newborn babes down in the mud
Aelle [3] rallied all to fight this beast
Defeat was total - murder was unleashed.

The Dead at Mount Badon A.D.516

"Our rout was total and complete
So few had got away
There's havoc in headlong retreat
As Britons won the day

Cerdic and his most loyal band
Knew when to cut and run
The scythe of death was close behind
But what was done was done

Most of their kith and kin were dead
Angles and Jutes as well
The grass about bore streaks of red
Wolves ate men where they fell

They'd seemed so strong in bardic song
The night before the fight
Now all their hopes had turned out wrong
So what can put things right?

Above Bath with its sacred springs
Upon old Badon hill
A Briton's bard he plucks his strings
And glorifies each kill

He sings as if all's good and sweet
He sings their cause is true
Now we'll not wallow we'll not bleat
We have a different view"

Cerdic and the Soothsayer

Deep in the wood beneath a sacred ash
Lit by the moonlight of a waxing moon
As from the east there came a lightning flash
Thor's booming thunder followed there and soon
There came a roaring squall a raging gale
The soothsayer and the earl would face this night
The mystic clad in furs the earl in mail
When visions came then one of them felt fright
Cerdic could face an army charging down
On horse, though he'd stand firm and mostly win the day
This man of war and courage and renown
Stood terrified of gods and of the fey
Yeoster the goddess of his kin was near
'Twas Cerdic not the sayer who felt fear!

Aelfwine feared not this goddess whom he knew
But Cerdic faced what to him was unknown
His faith in all the gods was firm and true
Without their help he could not gain a throne
That hill near Bath [4] had seen a great defeat
Their army riven through they'd lost the day
Though he could kill a foe in battle's heat
When ransom's paid then men increase their pay
But Dux Bellorum's men killed all they caught
Their throats cut like a sacrificial beast
For those who got away life had been fraught
In time though all that harassing decreased
So this night in the woods by Frillford Heath
He stood here with this strange slime on his teeth

Fly agaric [5] may open doors ajar
And new perceptions may be seen
And opened minds may wander wide, afar,
And then may know what mysteries may mean
In time the door will firmly swing back shut
And then the body writhe in pain
Convulsing through the limbs, the chest, the gut
True visions may well help but cause such strain

He'd chewed that stuff that Aelfwine gave to him
Mid ruins of some temples to the gods [6]
It made him retch; its cloying taste was grim
He did this now to even up the odds
Without divine support their cause was done
But none of his folk cared to be a slave
And Britons would enslave them when they won
Now all of them would sooner face the grave
Than be the trophy of some oafish chief
But Britons now engaged in fratricide
Now was the time and Britons would know grief
In time he hoped they could be forced aside
So here this night within this holy glade
He prayed the Goddess come now to his aid

The gods sometimes they may toy with a man
Whole nations may be used and thrown aside
But there's much to be done in one short span
And Faith told him his Goddess was his guide
Then Aelfwine started some strange mythic hymn
But Cerdic did not know what these words meant
His vision blurred and all about seemed dim
The strength within his limbs now all was spent
The ground there seemed to roll like waves at sea
That rhythmic chant now echoed through his head
He seemed to leave his body and float free
The Goddess must be here he was not dead
As Aelfwine's voice then dwindled to a hush
Then phantoms swarmed about him in a rush

And then it was the sky and moon were gone
And both of them were in a lofty hall
And he could see his Goddess and she shone
Her sensual form smelled sweet and she was tall
In turns she then seemed girl child, wife and crone
All phases of the life of womankind
He wondered in what ways he could atone
For having had such limits to his mind
When Yeoster spoke to Aelfwine then at last
He knew that here its he that must be mute
He listened as she spoke of things long past
Yet Aelfwine here would be calm and astute
And Aelfwine asked of Yeoster that they see
Not just things past but what was yet to be...

A mist it swirled around about them there
As Yeoster took the two men by the hand
It was as though at once they were elsewhere
There to the south on Cerdic's own sweet land
His son stood there beside an open grave
His weapons and his shield lay on the ground
Some old man spoke some words, said "...he was brave",
And all about there was a wailing sound
That mist it swirled about them there once more
He saw his son's shield burning on a pyre
A man somewhat like him stood to the fore
Intoning prayers before that funeral fire
"Your third king is the one who'll win this fight
And bring an end to Britons and their spite"

"You tried hard to fit in and to belong
Your only use here was to fight and die
These Britons though they know not right from wrong
They offered you good pay – that was a lie
There's no way that they'll let you integrate
It seems they feel they are more gods than men
And you were used as tools for their proud state
And now you're stuck here in their dragon's den
Your homeland is long lost beneath the sea
The gods of water drove you to this land
And Fate has blown you here like some ash key
Wind blown it has no need to understand
Like ash that puts down roots in this damp earth
This land will be your folks - they are of worth"

"For now your task here is to stay alive
Until your foe complete their fratricide
There is no shame in those who just survive
There's folly in a fight that's suicide!
Behold a Grandson stands at your son's pyre
Some ten miles from Mount Badon he will win
And kill three kings and put three towns to fire
And cleanse this foe of all their foulest sin
Enlarging then a realm ruled by your line
Three hundred years will pass 'til ravens feed
As hungry serpents gorge and then entwine
And hybrid forms across this land will breed
Now you may see no more of what' to come
The dawn will kiss the east - this night is done"...

Confused awhile he felt as though quite lost
As hoar frost formed upon the morning ground
And yet a crocus flowered here in the frost
So now it seemed those answers he had found
A giddy swirling sense possessed them now
As each sank back into their worldly flesh
It seemed the goddess was this mist somehow
The air about was cold and damp but fresh
And bore the faintest hint of Yeoster's scent
He knew now that she was here everywhere
He knew too that his foe would soon relent
And also that he must now tread with care
Impetuous men find circumspection hard
When Death's about all must be on their guard

The storm was gone this mist hung limp about
Two men lay still in vomit on the ground
Quite close they heard some foreign horsemen shout
Both prayed to Yeoster that they be not found
While mist is soft and all know it must yield
It filled that woodland and the morning air
And so two heathen men now lay concealed
From Britons who would calmly kill them there
Both lay there then quite still throughout that day
That night the moon was full and shone on high
Two canny men then softly slipped away
Beneath a starry, lovely springtime sky
The Dragon may well be a ravening beast
But Cerdic's folk survived and then increased!

Great lords may strut about and preen
Or strike some noble pose
And then they fade like they've not been
There's nought the dead impose

Survival through Guile

They would not take initiative
Adept at countermove
But through long years they'd not forgive
Through guile they could improve

Their Wooded Lands

From Dorchester to Frillford Heath
The woods are broad and green
And herds of hogs grub here beneath
And folk are rarely seen

The remnants of the Gewisse dwelt
Within this neighbourhood
Their loss and trauma was heartfelt
And few there understood

Just why their fortunes had gone bad
Why most their men were dead
Each household seemed so wan and sad
They followed, Cerdic led

Aelfwine told them what Yeoster told
They were more reconciled
Defeats they'd had since times of old
The Goddesses, she beguiled

Yeoster they knew could bring rebirth
And turn events around
To her they had to seem of worth
Though lost they could be found

Found by their Goddess to be fit
To prosper hid away
To live by guile to live by wit
Preparing for their day

For men on horse the woods are tough
Where foes can strike then fade
The Britons soon had had enough
So conquest was abeyed

The Smithy by the Friesian Shore

The high tide lapped now at the door
The smith he filled the cart
The sea advanced across their shore
And broke his people's heart

This place had been three miles inland
When he was yet a boy
Their ruin now seemed close at hand
And life had lost much joy

They took to ship that headed to west
Sailed to the setting sun
The seas completed their conquest
Their sad old land was done

And many Friesians did the same
This smith sought out old kin
They'd found a brave new land to tame
Not all Hopes are a sin

Their language and their epics there
They took with them abroad
And his skills would be needed where
All men need spear and sword

He found a home within the Weald
Where men sought out his trade
A land where bully foes might yield
Before each shimmering blade

The numbers of the Friesians swelled
Their language spread afar
Their industry and art excelled
Bound to their rising star

For all may prosper if well led
The Gewisse led them well
From inundating floods they'd fled
Escaped a watery hell

Their numbers grew their ranks increased
They ploughed abandoned land
Now better fed their wealth increased -
And Cerdic schemed and planned.

It's hard to lose the lands you hold
But fools can do just so
Where bullying fools are overbold
Against a canny foe

Where small lands grow in wealth and men
In stealth and weapons too
It takes a fool to turn on them
But folly is not new.

A ball of snow rolled down a hill
Will gather snow and grow
And this continues on until
There's level ground below

The Hunting of the Gewisse at Charford A.D.519

Nuddluth the Briton was unwise
He held great tracts of land
Now with his gold he paid for spies
For slaughter that he planned

The spies they said the Gewisse had run
Crossed waters at Charford
Nuddluth now thought a web was spun
There's folly in this lord

Spies can take pay from more than one
They bring both truth or lies
They may help see that wars are won
But can we trust all spies?

With his best men he took to horse
And hurried to that spot
When half across the water course
Each slinger slung his shot

Nigh fifty men then died as one
And then some fifty more
The ambush there was so well done
The stream was choked with gore

Cerdic he took Nuddluth alive
All else were put to death
Nuddluth for some time did survive
'Til sent on to his death

The took him to a sacred tree
And showed him reverence due
Their rites revealed all mystery
Their faith was firm and true

They saw to it that he choked slow
Their potions made him rave
So through his rantings they might know
Of things beyond the grave

First day they cut his right eye out
Next day they pierced his chest
Their faith was pure they had no doubt
Their zeal was unrepressed

On two long nights they took him to
The very doors of death
Through him they knew all that they'd do
Then he breathed his last breath

They honoured him, their sacrifice,
His funeral pyre was high
The flames roared up and in a trice
His spirit reached the sky

At Gwentchester A.D.519

With Charford won they took that place
Slaves there were lean and gaunt
Each hollow cheeked and hungry face
This seemed an eerie haunt

The Gewisse knew of hunger too
They brought in bread and meat
It was the guileful thing to do
Freed folk are hard to beat

Some Britons there went to their graves
With poison or a blade
Those still alive were bound as slaves
This helped a growth in trade

The churches there were sumptuous
Most priests were too well fed
They seemed puffed up, presumptuous,
Soon all but one was dead

This one priest was a holy man
His fasts left him too thin
Through him sweet streams of goodness ran
They treated him like kin

This priest called Cadoc stayed a while
Said, "...All life was a test!"
He'd never frown he'd never smile
Then journeyed to the west

The Britons liked a lazy life
With slaves at beck and call
They knew not of the future strife
Pride came before the fall

The Portents of the Comet A.D.531

A mighty comet lit the winter sky
Men saw it at the very height of day
It was a portent, but of what, none knew
No myth or legend guided mystic seers
And whilst it shone interpreters were sought
Most prayed of hope expecting pure despair
Now on a headland on a northern shore
Saint Beuno hid away from mortal men
An Angel came to tell him what it meant
He hid his face and fled down to a wood
This fasting man hid his lean frame away
Deep in a cave where light of day was gone
With body hid away his soul was not
That Angel came and talked straight to his soul
Which writhed in desperation then was still
So he arose and went back to that wood
To where he knelt and prayed unto the Lord
The Angel then said, "Sit" and he obeyed
And found he sat now in another place
And people there all raged and tore about
And some passed through him like he was a wraith
That none could see or there would care to know
The town about him burned flames filled some streets
He knew this place for he had called it home
And in a trice he was back in that wood
The Angel said "Stand by me mortal man"
He stood and all about sweet children played
There's music sweet and soft and he smelled mead
Saw tables laden high with meat and bread
And cheese and ale, and this land too was his
He gasped and was then back there in that wood
The Angel said "Walk with me for a while"
He did they walked then shared a fulsome day
The Angel gave communion, wine and bread
Then he confessed his sins but they were few
The sights he saw he seemed to understand
The future holds so much, both good and ill
But comets do not detail all events
They simply warn that folk may live to rue
The consequence of folly or of wrath
He told the Angel he would try his best
A small child stood before him by the shore
With wounded side and bloodied hands and feet
He fell upon the ground before this child
The wind from off the sea made scarce a sound
A soul that once was lost it now was found...

Cerdic the Husbandman

In gaining Nuddluth's lands they weren't secure
They'd killed one British lord who sought them out
The killing of their kind now lacked allure
United all the Britons could cause rout
Providing they restrained from starting strife
It seemed they were endured and left alone
To get on with the mundane things of life
To follow in the path they had been shown
These worshippers of Yeoster would each spring
Then celebrate the rebirth of the land
This season to them was a wondrous thing
Yes, Yeoster-time foretold of joy at hand
They'd lived through all the darkness and the cold
And yearned for future times that were foretold

And Cerdic led them well throughout his life
This soldier strove hard not to toy with war
He never sought to start out brand new strife
But if attacked he would strike back for sure
Most foes they learned to leave his kinfolk be
And left alone they'd tend to field and farm
Their hogs would grub beneath the greenwood tree
All seemed content they had a natural charm
Their smiths worked hard to forge each plough and spear
Their smithies billowed smoke the whole week through
Industrious they worked throughout the year
Their canny king he had the clearest view
With good foundations buildings are built strong
And at this work there's little he did wrong

Cerdic Dies A.D.534

"Now all men they may live their span
Yet all men they must die
King Cerdic he was just a man
So he died by and by

And then Cynric succeeded him
Aelfwine had taught him well
All stood and sang the funeral hymn
And each said their farewell

The old man Aelfwine stood and said
Of Cerdic; "...he was brave",
Then remembering visions with some dread
Of him beside this grave

Yes, Yeoster's visions were all true
He shivered there with fright
For all the future things he knew
The wrath the rage the spite

For three years he outlived his king
Honoured by everyone
And often he was heard to sing
Oh things their folk had done

When all heard Dux Bellorum died
Aelfwine he sighed all day
Through that next night he sat and cried
His was the strangest way

When asked why he cried for their foe
He said that he did not
He cried for friends killed long ago
How they would be forgot

At Mount Badon they'd lost good men
He saw their faces still
That slaughter in the dragon's den
Made his soul feel so chill

Their slaughterer who now was dead
Would meet those whom he slayed
He hoped that soul would know pure dread
Then through his teeth he prayed

He loathed that "Feeder of the crows"
Of whom all Britons tell
This butcher whom had led their foes
He prayed would suffer hell

Death of the Dux Bellorum at Camlann A.D. 537

"A weary man sat propped against a stone
A massive stone besides a plundered church
A plundered church within a sundered land
Where leaders feud as foreign foes advance
That weary man sat dying from his wound
He held his painful side where he seeped blood.
This Dux Bellorum of a dying land
Had failed his land and lost the last of Hope
With foreigners awaiting his demise
Whose numbers grew, as did their firm resolve
And his life was now wasted in this fight
This futile fight between opposing clans
Of Britons who saw Saxons closing in
Together with the Jutes and Frisians too
And Angles who attacked on land and sea.
This futile fight now hastened on their end
He gazed up at the sky and fading light
This was the twilight of his people's power
The mutiny of those who served them once
Had driven them far back to west and north
But he had rallied men who seemed well beat
Had rallied them and shown them ways to fight
The crows he'd fed with Jute and Saxon flesh
And Ravens and the Wolves had waxed replete
And now those crows here circled overhead
So now it was his turn to be their food
The fox and badger might well pick his bones.
And through the fading light here loomed a man
A man who had somehow survived this rout
"Who is that who remains alive still now,
How many are the men who yet may live?"
"I'm Bedevere one of your loyal men,
Now there may be a score of us who live
A motley lot not fit now for the fight
They've all been brave and fought long in your wars
But all would now go home and face their lot
Their fighting's done and finished in this feud
They will be overwhelmed now by the foe
And they must choose a servile life - or death!
But in death there's an end to choice or chance.
As for myself I go now to my home
High in Dumnonia's hills there to the west
And save all that I can out of my land.
Your cause is lost. You wasted it in feud
I'll stay with you 'til death has closed your eyes
And then my oath to you is at an end.
So tell me what was Mordred's grievous fault
That we fought him instead of foreign foe?
And was he worth these broken shattered men
Who all lie dead amongst their scattered arms?
We all must live with folk we do not like
Not all of us see this as cause for war
Nor do we feud in doors in rage and heat
While cattle raiders plunder all our stock
Though you brought us success – all men know that!
At end you brought us here to all this waste
This waste of men who could have saved our land."
The dying Dux Bellorum smiled at him
A wry and kindly smile that bore no rage
The time was past for rage and wrath and hate
He choked a little as he tried to speak
The pool of blood wherein he sat spread wide
And all the world seemed misty and more dark
And yet his mind was as it always was
Still agile in this bloody dying form
"You must not let the foreign foes gain arms
You say our arms are scattered here about
Go gather them, as they're no use to us
No ghost nor wraith has ever yet born arms
But future foes who may yet come for you
Would find some use in what's left here about.
Go toss them in a meare or murky pool
And take my sword and shield and toss them too
I would not have my arms left to harm you
A curse against our folk they soon would be.
Make sure the water's deep that none might see
Before they rot to rust and are all gone
Take with you to Dumnonia what you would
Your hills may yet secure you from the foes
And you have life and so you yet have Hope
Be gone now let me die alone. I've failed.
Your life goes on and I must feed the crows"
And Bedevere and those few men with him
Did as the Dux Bellorum bid them to
They gathered up the arms from all the dead
They gathered them and tossed them in the Brue
And then they went their ways to hearth and home
Where grateful kin had welcomed their return
And in the winter nights they told their tales
Of how they followed that great man of war
Of how they held up an advancing foe
Each year the tales got longer than before
In time they were well woven into myth
The myths that got passed on to future times.
Their foes that rose to rule those lands of theirs
Took on their myths and glorified their deeds.
To glorify their war is folly now
Now that we know so little of those folk
Of how they lived and how their slaves had lived.
A few brave names have come down - legends all
But who's to know what those folk may have thought?
They lived and that's as much as we may know.
Whilst they are gone - The sands of time still flow."

Consolidation and Survival

Cynric he heard but got no cheer
When Dux Bellorum died
With furious foes about him here
"Perhaps the foe had lied?

Perhaps it was some canny plot
The sort that we had done"
Yet Yeoster's words were not forgot
New fights could not be won

The Goddess gave them work to do
To build up their new realm
And gradually their strength, it grew
With safe hands at the helm

Now circumspection suited him
A brave though cautious king
Though British folly turned more grim
Luck is a precious thing

Their goddess seemed to bring them luck
She seemed to guide their Fate
Long years no single blow was struck
Save to retaliate!

They seemed a folk best left alone
They seemed a stolid lot
Their clothes all homespun coarsely sewn
Could their likes scheme and plot?

Industriously they ploughed each field
Clay lands were ploughed and sown
Most harvests brought a bounteous yield
Not all they did was known

Their men of war had trained long years
Shield lines seemed like a wall
Britons one day would shed salt tears
In time their lands would fall.

Conquest to the West

Cerdic's descendents saw their chance arrive
As feuding Britons quarrelled and they fought
The prophecy said that they must survive
At times existence had been hard and fraught
That storm of wrath had ebbed now and was gone
They'd weathered it with guile and now they grew
Expanding out, their foes seemed weak and wan
And green plains to the west were in their view
Their time had come decisive moves were made
King Caewlin stood and gazed from Dyrham hill
Today he knew was not some cattle raid
The air this dawn now bore an icy chill
His men now formed a wall of shield on shield
Today they'd die or mayhap hold the field

The Dead at Dyrham A.D.577

"Our rout was total and complete
So few had got away
There's havoc in this sad retreat
As Sasnegs [7] won the day

Dubricius and his loyal band
Were forced to turn and run
That lost cause now was left behind
They faced the setting sun

Most of the brave horsemen lay dead
Before those shields they fell
The ground in front those shields was red
There's little now to tell

He'd seen poor holy Tewdric fall
That lantern of the word
Until he died he would recall
All of what he had heard

How Tewdric called "God Slay this dirt
Pray let the heathen burn
Blessed God of love let them feel hurt
All know they cannot learn

These Sasnegs they all are profane
Not fit to hear of you..."
Then one spear thrust and he was slain
And fell from out of view.

He'd seen the holy priests cut down
As each knelt there to pray [8]
The very memories made him frown
That was a dismal day

They'd seemed so strong in bardic song
The night before this fight
Now all their hopes had turned out wrong
So what can put things right?

To north of Bath on Dyrham's Hill
That was some clash of arms
This evening's air though calm and still
Has lost all of its charms

We know now all is sad and wan
It's time for us to go
Our feuding kings are dead and gone
But we must halt this foe

They travelled on throughout that night
They crossed old Ferran Meare
A motley crew a morbid sight
Beneath the shade of fear

Dumnonia took these sad men in
Survivors of that rout
Gildas had warned them of their sin
Faith came they lost all doubt

Gerren, Dumnonia's wily king [9]
Prepared his land for war
None there would note the strangest thing
Their foe did this before

The Vision of Dubricius

Then strong Dubricius knelt a whole night through
He knelt in prayer with lean Cadoc the priest
His prayers sought guidance in what they ought do
- He had a vision of a ravening beast
This Wyvern it tore off the Dragon's tail
The Dragon though stayed red in tooth and claw
Each monster striving long could not prevail
Yet both proclaimed that their word was the law
As too and fro their fight would ebb and flow
Moons waxed and waned, the sun would set and rise
The angels watched this folly far below
All knowing and they knew men were not wise -
The vision went, and he prayed God forgive
For he must fight and help the Dragon live

And Cadoc blessed this soldier of their land
This strong man who would hold true to the Lord
There's few men who may know or understand
Through faith alone men seek a sweet accord
And throw off all the cravings of the flesh
And seek and find the signs of God's true grace
He knew though that this world was like a mesh
Through which few saw a glimpse of Christ's pure face
Again, again he said; "Life is a test -
With folly and true virtue all around
Yet all must grab the moment live with zest
For wonders of the living God abound!"
The two then left that chapel by the shore
And Cadoc softly closed the chapel door.

End of the Beginning

Epilogue

Midwinter A.D.577 – Midwinter A.D.877 [10]

King Ceawlin celebrated in his hall
They were secure and they now ruled their land
And Britons served as slave at beck and call
This year all things had gone just as he'd planned
For Wessex was secure their foes knew fear
They'd spread across this land and they had won
And now he knew that none would venture near
Perhaps for some time now their woes were done
A soothsayer of their foe had now foretold
Three hundred years their line would be secure
And gather in great wealth in land and gold
This cosy future held such sweet allure
At Chippenham the yuletide joy had ceased
When to that place there came a slavering beast [11]

Beginning of the End