The Battle of
It was in the distant ages, some centuries ago,
The Gallant Saxons of our Land went forth to meet the foe,
And at a place called Seisdon, near Wolverhampton town,
They sallied forth to fight the Danes for Mercia’s King
But when the Danish leaders saw the Saxon camping
They stood like men bewildered, and in wonder gazed
Even though outwitted by our King, whose skill they did
Still in these gallant Soldiers' hearts, fresh hope it
A council they at once did call to see what could be
And then the war horn's blast was heard, until the
Shone forth in radiant splendour as if to view the fray,
And give the Laurels unto those who really won the day.
Although outnumbered by the foe, still, strategy
And like true heroes of our land their courage never
It was then the Danes rushed madly on, and with their
Appeared, like Demons broken loose, out of the haunts of
The blood, it flowed in torrents, from the Saxon and the
And human bodies shorn off limbs were strewn about the
But still each noble army seemed determined not to yield
And ere the sun had set, the Danes were driven from the
The gallant leaders of the Danes then turned their army
And pushed toward old Hamptune town to find more favoured
But here the wisdom of our King on whom our troops relied
Was shown, for when the Danes arrived, they found it
Now when the Danish leaders saw the Saxon army there
They retired to Tettenhall just to avoid the snare.
Whilst on their arms they retired to pass a sleepless
In readiness at break of day, the enemy to fight.
The war horn blew, the banners waved, the glittering
swords, they shone,
The Danes rushed forward up the slopes the clang of arms
The conflict was an awful one, for men in heaps they lay
And no one there could scarcely tell which side would win
The polished armour of the men which shone so bright
On which the sunbeams danced and played were now eclipsed
Some heroes, lay in pools of blood whilst some were
On purpose, just to gratify, a cruel selfish will.
The Danes pressed forward to the crest with courage
The Saxons, equally, as brave as heroes could have been.
They drove the Danes from off the crest then Brightric did
Twas then the gallant Saxon troops, sent forth a lusty
The gallant Danes, when they beheld the foe on every
Reluctantly withdrew again, to see how to decide.
But ere the glorious sun had set, once more they had to
And leave the Saxon troops, once more the victors of the
Just as the day was breaking, in the distance could be
Troops from the neighbouring towns around, and foresters
Men who could deftly wield the bow, on whom they could
Who'd come to fight for Mercia’s King, to win, if not, to
Meanwhile, the gallant Norsemen, from their fortress
And viewed the preparations, in the Saxon camping ground.
But not a soul among them quailed, for death, they did not
Each waited patiently, and calm, their leaders to appear.
Halfdene, a giant in the field, came forth the scene to
He scanned the Saxon army o'er, to see what he could do.
Just like a demon, there he stood, and gazed around a
And criticised the Saxon plans, then smiled a scornful
Just then the war horn's blast was heard, the battle to
And all along the Saxon line, there rose an awful din.
Our gallant troops they climbed the rocks, regardless of
Who waited there to hurl them back, upon their friends
The foresters, those clever men, their bows they quickly
And plunged their arrows in the Danes, and numbers of them
But still, the Saxon King, had seen his men too quickly
And gave an order to retire, but to return again.
A Conference the King then called to see what could be
The troops were ordered back again, - the Battle must be
Then up the hill our troops had climbed, and charged the
Danes once more,
And gained the summit of the rocks, as they had done
The Norsemen stood astonished, but their courage never
And though overwhelmed by gallant men, not one among them
They asked no quarter, neither side, though scores of them
And headless trunks were lying round, of Saxon and of
The archers, tiring of the bow, leapt forth, and with a
With axes fell upon the Danes, and smote them to the
The remnants steadily withdrew, still fighting all the way
At last our valiant Saxon troops once more had won the
What few were left re-gained their ships and soon put
out to sea
And from these dreadful savages, Mercia once more was free
And Jarl Halfdene, he sailed around the coast of
And spread the news of his defeat which forced him to
The Danish King, was so surprised when he the news did
And told Halfdene, he’d come with him in the ensuing year.
He’d bring a mighty army too, to devastate the place
And drive the King from off his throne, and slay the Saxon
Meanwhile our troops had turned again, into the camping
To view the dreadful carnage there, which lay in heaps
But still, they had some dear ones left, who might have
shared the same
And if they had, t’would have been disgrace unto the Saxon
Forthwith they buried every one that lay on hill and
And to the people all around, Peace was restored again.
Our gallant King, and valiant men, fought nobly for the
And from the Britons of their land, should have their best