Battle of Assandun aka Ashingdon

Economium Emmae Reginae. [18th October 1016] When the winter season had passed, Edmund (age 26) once more gathered his army during the whole of Lent, and soon after Easter prepared to drive the king and the Danes out of the land of the English. Coming, therefore, with an innumerable multitude, he planned suddenly to attack them. But the report did not escape the Danes, who, leaving their ships behind, took to the land, and made ready to receive whatever might come against them. For they had a banner of wondrous portent, which, though I may believe it to seem incredible to the reader, yet, because it is true, I will insert into this true account. Indeed, though it was woven of the simplest and purest silk, and bore no image or figure embroidered upon it, yet at the time of battle there was always seen upon it a raven, as if woven within the fabric, when their side was to be victorious, the raven appeared with open beak, beating its wings, and standing unsteady upon its feet; but when their side was defeated, it was seen motionless and drooping in every part. When Thorkell, the leader of their first battle, saw this, he cried out: "Let us fight manfully, comrades! There shall be no danger for us, the restless raven of our prophetic standard bears witness to our victory!" Hearing this, the Danes became more daring, and, hardened in their iron armor, they advanced to meet the English in a place called Aescenedun, which we Latins may interpret as "the Hill of the Ash Trees." And there, even before the armies joined battle, Eadric, whom we said was the chief of Edmund's earls, spoke these words to his men: "Let us flee, comrades, and withdraw our lives from the death that threatens; otherwise we shall perish at once, for I know well the hardness of the Danes." And, veiling the standard which he carried in his right hand, he turned his back on the enemy, and by his flight defrauded the army of a great part of its strength. And, as some say, he did this not from fear, but from treachery, as later became clear; for, as many assert, he had secretly promised the Danes to do so, in return for some unknown reward. Then Edmund, seeing this and pressed on every side, cried out: "O Englishmen! Either you will fight today, or all together you will go into bondage. Fight therefore for freedom and for your country, brave men! As for those who flee, being cowardly, if they had not departed, they would only have hindered our army." Saying this, he charged into the midst of the enemy, cutting down the Danes on every side, and by his example made his own men, the nobles, more eager to fight.

Then was joined a fierce battle on foot, for the Danes, though fewer in number, chose annihilation rather than the peril of flight. They stood firm like men and fought bravely, and the combat, begun at the ninth hour of the day, lasted into the evening, not that they unwillingly met the swords of others, but rather that they pressed upon others with the points of their own. On both sides armed men fell, yet more from that host which had the greater numbers. And when the time of evening drew near and the shadows of night approached, their love of victory overcame the perils of darkness; for neither did they fear the coming of night, being consumed by a greater care, nor would they yield even to the darkness, while they still burned to prevail over the enemy. And unless the bright moon had shown them where the foe was, each man might have struck down his own comrade, thinking him an enemy resisting, and none of either side would have survived except those whom flight had saved. Meanwhile, the English began to grow weary and little by little to think of flight, when they saw that the Danes were resolved either to conquer or to perish to the last man together. For the Danes now seemed to them more numerous and, in that long-continued struggle, the stronger; they truly deemed them stronger, and with good reason, for now, stung by the goads of steel and angered by the fall of their comrades, they seemed rather to rage than to fight. Then the English, turning their backs, fled here and there without delay, falling before their adversaries, and so added glory to the honour of Cnut and his victory, while Edmund their prince fled in shame. Yet though overcome, he withdrew yielding only to the stronger, still not wholly despairing, and entrusted himself to safe places, intending, when he should gather a stronger host, to try again whether by chance fortune might favour him. But the Danes pursued the fugitives not far, for being unfamiliar with the country, they were hindered by the darkness of night. The English, however, knowing the ground well, quickly escaped from their hands, leaving the enemy to the spoils of the slain, and betaking themselves to ignoble refuges.

Recedente vero brumali tempore, tota quadragesima rursus militiam adunavit, et mox post pascales dies regem et Danos a finibus Anglorum deturbare paravit, et veniens cum innumerabili multitudine, eos subito cogitavit invadere. At sermo non latuit Danos, qui puppibus postpositis petunt arida, aptantes se excipere quaeque obvia. Erat namque eis vexillum miri portenti, quod licet credam posse esse incredibile lectori, tamen, quia verum est, verae inseram lectioni. Enimvero dum esset simplissimo candidissimoque intextum serico, nulliusque figurae in eo inserta esset imago, tempore belli semper in eo videbatur corvus ac siintextus, in victoria suorum quasi hians ore excutiensque alas, instabilisque pedibus; et suis devictis quietissimus totoque corpore demissus. Quod requirens Turchil, auctor primi prelii: Pugnemus inquit viriliter, sotii, nihil nobis erit periculi; hoc denique testatur instabilis corvus presagientis vexilli. Quo audito Dani audentiores effecti, ferratisque induviis indurati, occurrunt Anglis in Aesceneduno loco, quod nos Latini montem fraxinorum possumus interpretari. Ibique nondum congressione facta, Edric, quem primum comitum Aedmundi diximus, hec suis intulit affamina: Fugiamus, o sotii, vitamque subtrahamus morti imminenti, alioquin occumbemus ilico; Danorum enim duritiam nosco. Et velato vexillo quod dextra gestabat, dans tergum hostibus magnam partem militum bello fraudabat. Et ut quidam aiunt, hoc non causa egit timoris sed dolositatis, ut postea claruit; quia hoc eum clam Danis promisisse, nescio quo pro beneficio, assertio multorum dicit. Tunc Aedmund hoc intuitus et undique angustiatus: O Angli, inquit, aut hodie bellabitis, aut omnes una in deditionem ibitis. Pugnate ergo pro libertate et patria, viri cordati; hi quippe qui fugiunt, utpote formidolosi, si non abirent, essent impedimento exercitui. Et haec dicens in medios ingreditur hostes, circumquaque caedens Danos, nobiles hoc exemplo suos reddens ad bellandum proniores.

Commissum est ergo prelium pedestre gravissimum, dum Dani, licet pauciores, nescii cedere magis eligerent internetionem quam fugae periculum. Resistunt itaque viriliter, et prelium hora diei nona ceptum ducunt in vesperam, se gladiis haud sponte opponentes, sed gladiorum aculeis voluntarius alios urgentes. Cadunt utriusque partis armati, plus tamen eius quae erat numero eminentiori. At ubi iam advesperante noctis adessent tempora, vincit amor victoriae tenebrarum incommoda, quia neque horrebant tenebras instante cura maiore, neque etiam nocti dignabantur cedere, in hostem tantum dum ardebant prevalere. Et nisi luna clarescens ipsum monstraret hostem, cederet quisque suum commilitonem, ut inimicum resistentem, nullusque utriusque partis superviveret nisi quem fuga salvasset. Interea ceperunt Angli fatigari paulatimque fugam meditari, dum intuentur Danos in hoc conspiratos, quatenus aut vincerent aut usque ad unum omnes una perirent. Videbantur enim eis tunc numerosiores et in tam diutina conflictatione fortiores. Fortiores namque eos estimabant vera suspitione, quia iam stimulis ferri commoniti casuque suorum turbati, magis videbantur sevire quam bellare. Unde Angli terga vertentes, hac et illac fugitant absque mora, semper ante adversarios cadentes, adduntque decus honori Cnutonis et victoriae, decorato Aedmundo fugiente principe. Qui licet devictus valentioribus cedens recederet, tamen adhuc non penitus desperans, tutis se commisit locis, ut demum fortiori multitudine collecta iterum experiretur, si quid forte sibi boni succedere posset. At Dani fugientes non longe sunt persecuti, quia incogniti locorum noctis obscuritate sunt retenti. Angli vero loci non inscii, cito a manibus hostium sunt elapsi, eos relinquentes ad spolia, seseque dantes ad inhonesta refugia.