136 THE RAVEN IN POETRY AND FOLK-LORE 



wings hang listlessly by his side, it was a sure 

 presage of defeat. The fortunes of Alfred the 

 Great, were in that year, the year 898, at their 

 very lowest. England had been reduced by the 

 Danes to Wessex ; and Wessex had shrunk to the 

 Isle of Athelney. The first battle was fought in 

 North Devon. Whether the raven flapped or 

 drooped his wings, the Saxon Chronicle does not 

 tell us ; but 890 of the warriors who followed it 

 were slain, and the raven-standard itself was 

 captured. The good news put fresh heart into 

 the faithful few who had clung to their king in 

 his distress. He burst forth from his island fast- 

 ness, and the capture of the raven-standard was 

 soon followed by the crowning victory of Ethandun, 

 by the surrender and baptism of Guthrum and his 

 followers, and by the Peace of Wedmore. Wessex 

 was saved, and, through Wessex, England. 



Never, I suppose, was Europe in such evil 

 plight as during that tenth century when the 

 Magyars were harrying its central plains, the 

 Saracens scouring its southern waters, and the 

 Northmen, the most dreaded of them all, its 

 northern coasts and islands. Well might Charles 

 the Great himself, on hearing that the Norsemen 

 had appeared on the Seine, burst into tears, not 



