Ch. 3 - The Good Saxon, Alfred

ALFRED THE GREAT was a young man, three-and-twenty years of age,
when he became king. Twice in his childhood, he had been taken to
Rome, where the Saxon nobles were in the habit of going on journeys
which they supposed to be religious; and, once, he had stayed for
some time in Paris. Learning, however, was so little cared for,
then, that at twelve years old he had not been taught to read;
although, of the sons of KING ETHELWULF, he, the youngest, was the
favourite. But he had - as most men who grow up to be great and
good are generally found to have had - an excellent mother; and,
one day, this lady, whose name was OSBURGA, happened, as she was
sitting among her sons, to read a book of Saxon poetry. The art of
printing was not known until long and long after that period, and
the book, which was written, was what is called 'illuminated,' with
beautiful bright letters, richly painted. The brothers admiring it
very much, their mother said, 'I will give it to that one of you
four princes who first learns to read.' ALFRED sought out a tutor
that very day, applied himself to learn with great diligence, and
soon won the book. He was proud of it, all his life.

This great king, in the first year of his reign, fought nine
battles with the Danes. He made some treaties with them too, by
which the false Danes swore they would quit the country. They
pretended to consider that they had taken a very solemn oath, in
swearing this upon the holy bracelets that they wore, and which
were always buried with them when they died; but they cared little
for it, for they thought nothing of breaking oaths and treaties
too, as soon as it suited their purpose, and coming back again to
fight, plunder, and burn, as usual. One fatal winter, in the
fourth year of KING ALFRED'S reign, they spread themselves in great
numbers over the whole of England; and so dispersed and routed the
King's soldiers that the King was left alone, and was obliged to
disguise himself as a common peasant, and to take refuge in the
cottage of one of his cowherds who did not know his face.

Here, KING ALFRED, while the Danes sought him far and near, was
left alone one day, by the cowherd's wife, to watch some cakes
which she put to bake upon the hearth. But, being at work upon his
bow and arrows, with which he hoped to punish the false Danes when
a brighter time should come, and thinking deeply of his poor
unhappy subjects whom the Danes chased through the land, his noble
mind forgot the cakes, and they were burnt. 'What!' said the
cowherd's wife, who scolded him well when she came back, and little
thought she was scolding the King, 'you will be ready enough to eat
them by-and-by, and yet you cannot watch them, idle dog?'

At length, the