Vandals have targeted the ancient Uffington White Horse in Oxfordshire by spraying part of it purple.

Officers from Thames Valley Police were called to the 3,000-year-old chalk monument at about 2200 BST on Thursday.

They found the head and eye of the horse had been sprayed with purple paint. A banner that read “fathers 4 justice stop the secret family courts” was recovered from the scene.

New Fathers 4 Justice and Real Fathers for Justice both denied responsibility.

Police and members of the National Trust have been working to re-chalk the monument.

BBC News

Tags: fathers 4 justice, fathers for justice, national trust, oxfordshire, purple paint, thames valley police, uffington white horse, vandals

Members of Fylfot Hearth of the Odinic Rite gather at the WHS each year for their Yule ritual. The following video gives some excerpts from this years gathering.

Tags: Odin, odinic rite, white horse stone, whs, yule ritual

Inspired by the fantastic work put in by the Guardians of the White Horse Stone, Freys Beacon Hearth AOR have set up our own “Guardians” group, which will keep the area of The Forest of Bowland in Lancashire clear of litter and rubbish.

The forest is an area of outstanding natural beauty and is the spiritual home of Freys Beacon Hearth. We are meeting next Saturday for our first litter pick. I have managed to loan some litter picking devices and some high viz vests from the local council and The local newspaper will run a short story on our efforts, I will keep you all posted on how things pan out.

I would like to take this opportunity in thanking all of The Guardians of The White Horse Stone for leading the way.

Hail The GOWHS,

Hail The Odinic Rite.

Sigbert OR

Tags: Freys Beacon Hearth, Guardians, Lancashire, The Forest of Bowland, white horse stone

When the Channel Tunnel Rail link was built the Guardians fought hard to save the White Horse Stone. We succeeded in the main, but the landscape has still been badly scarred by the CTR line and tremendous noise of the high speed trains which pass by close to the WHS.  Prior to the rail link being built archaeological work was carried out on the field adjacent to the WHS. At the time the Guardians attempted to gain some information as to what if anything the archaeologists had found. We hit a proverbial wall and could gain no information at all, even a member who is himself a qualified and well connected archaeologist could not obtain any information. We can only guess that those that held the purse strings had enforced an information black out. We can only wonder why!!!

The first real information came to light, not from a publicly released report as you might expect when archaeology of national importance comes to light, no, it only came to light in an archaeologicial magazine called “Current Archaeology”. This popular magazine (amongst those with an interest in archaeology) carried an extensive report from a number of sites along the Channel Tunnel Rail Line. Until that article we had been kept in the dark as to the nature of the archaeology found at the White Horse Stone site. I recently discovered a very interesting paper on the internet by Chris Hayden of Oxford Archaeology. It can be a little heavy going in places, but does provide us with clear evidence that the area immediately adjacent to the White Horse Stone was a very important site. I have attached a copy of the report for those that are interested in ready just what heritage was destroyed by the Channel Tunnel Rail line.

Download PDF of the paper.

Tags: archaeology, channel tunnel rail link, Guardians, oxford, white horse stone

The Valley of Visions is a 2.5 million National Lottery funded project for the Medway Gap. The project touches the White Horse Stone and other Megaliths in the area so if you are interested in our folks heritage, you might want to check out the official website, though it does appear incomplete at this stage. The Kent Downs unit appears to be offering some interesting courses, talks and walks. Whilst many of these events have already taken place, there are few still to take place and no doubt more to follow.

Don’t forget to let the Valley of Visions people know just how important sites like the White Horse Stone are to you.

Here is the official site address http://www.valleyofvisions.org.uk/

Tags: heritage, Kent Downs, Medway, national lottery, white horse stone

We had heard that there was a project called the Valley of Visions but little information could be found about this, however in September we were contacted by Richard Haynes of the Kent Downs AONB Unit. Richard is the Landscape, Heritage and Access officer for the Valley of Visions project and so has a direct interest in the White Horse Stone.

Richard had heard about the work the Guardians had done and our interest in the WHS, Richard said in his e-mail “My project, which is part of the Kent Downs AONB Unit, is working throughout the area known as the Medway Gap. One of the of the sub-projects focuses on the ‘Medway Megaliths’ and as the Odinic Rite has been actively caring for the stone and such like”.

We have always been willing to work with the various organisation and authorities which have an interest in the area of the WHS and for the stone itself, so we were delighted to be approached by Richard and only to pleased to have a meeting to discuss their project and any plans that involve the White Horse Stone.

On 23rd October a fitting date (It is Hengest, the festival of Settlement in the Odinic calendar). I met Richard and a lady from English Heritage at the WHS. It was very clear from the start that the lady from English Heritage was keen to see the removal of the tree that stands at the rear of the WHS and has done for a good many years. Now whilst we appreciate that the tree is very close to the Stone, it does not appear to have affected the stone in anyway at this stage. The lady’s concerns though where also for the damage that the tree may cause to any potential archaeology that may or may not exist under the tree.

Now we appreciate that tree roots may cause damage to archaeology, but as there is no evidence at this stage for there being any archaeology at the WHS, it is pure speculation to say that the tree is damaging archaeology. After much discussion it was agreed that for the time being the tree stays. We have agreed to relocate the small hedge plants that we planted close to the stone. English Heritage have a legal responsibility to look after the Stone as it is a listed monument. We, the Guardians of the WHS also have a responsibility to protect this Ancient monument for future generations. Our heritage is under threat from those that do not understand or appreciate its importance. Whilst we are happy to see more people visit this ancient site, we want people to understand that the WHS is more than just a listed monument. The WHS is a spiritual site, a resting place, a place of religious importance, a historical site and very important to a great many people across the world. The Guardians have given up hundreds of hours of their time to care for this wonderful site, and the sitting of this ancient monument is part of it. If the area surrounding the Stone was to be “opened up” as suggested at the meeting, then the ambience of this sacred site would be soured.

We discussed the potential for some archaeological investigation to be carried out, hopefully not of an intrusive nature, geophysical or the likes would be an option, thus not disturbing the ashes of those that have been scattered at this sacred site. We are as keen as any to learn about the stone, but we believe that any archaeological investigation should be non intrusive.

At the time of posting this brief report, we have not heard from the Valley of Visions team as to whether they intend to carry out the geophysical investigation or call in a tree surgeon to asses the health of the trees surrounding the Stone, some are obviously dead or dying. When and if we hear anything, we will keep you updated via our website.

We have cared for the WHS as an organisation for over 20 years. We have received enormous support over the years from those that truly care about their heritage. We will continue to care for the White Horse Stone and if need be we will fight for it as we have in the past.

We sincerely hope that together with Kent Downs and English Heritage we can secure the future of this wonder sacred site for generation to come.

The information below has been taken from the Kent Downs Valley of Visions website.

What is Valley of Visions?

Valley of Visions Landscape Partnership Scheme is an exciting and complex programme that aims to make a real difference in the Medway Gap. The £2.5 million scheme, funded primarily by the Heritage Lottery Fund and delivered through the Kent Downs Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty is investing in landscape, access, wildlife and heritage whilst providing opportunities for people to explore, enjoy and celebrate the local area.

The Medway Megaliths

Over the years the majority of the valley’s megalithic sites have fallen into neglect or been destroyed entirely. Valley of Visions is working to improve public access to the remaining Megaliths, as well as interpreting the sites to better understand their history and relevance.

For further information please visit: http://www.kentdowns.org.uk/Valley%20of%20Visions.htm

Tags: AONB, heritage, Kent Downs, Medway, Megaliths, richard haynes, white horse stone

This is a short video clip of me “playing” the White Horse Stone through a hole that runs from front to rear.

Tags: Hengest, white horse stone

The Lady Rowena

by John Lesslie Hall

Few were the months ere foes numberless
At the seashore’s sands savagely harassed
The king of the Kentmen. The cruel, blood-thirsty
Men of the Picts minded but little, then,
Foes from the northland, how the fair-haired, dauntless
Earlmen of Anglia ever intrepidly
Hewed them with edges, aiding the Kentmen,
But hied southwardly, ceased not their ravenous
Sacking and hacking. Soon was it told to the
Woe-begone king, the womanish, white-livered
Liegelord of Albion, that his earlmen and vassals,
Scorning him bitterly, would bring them a king
From the southward and westward, a war-mooded leader
Who dauntless and doughty would drive him away
From kingdom and country. He called terror-struck
(His heart was so heavy) for Hengist, far-famous
Earl of the Angles, urged him to help them
As erst he had done, eagerly promised
To give and to grant him gifts abundantly,
All he might ask of him. East o’er the waters,
O’er the surging, seething, sea-currents foaming,
Sent, then, Hengist for Saxons and Angles
And Jutemen and Frisians, folk of the mainland,
Most venturous-mooded of vikings and pirates
That sailed o’er the sea-deeps: soon, messengers
Reached the brave races. Readily, eagerly,
Heard the good heroes that Hengist had bidden them
Come o’er the waters; and there came then rejoicing
Earls of the east eager for glory
And thirsting for fame. Far o’er the waters,
O’er the waves westward, winds from the northward
Fanned then their foam-throated, far-dashing vessels
O’er the curve of the currents: the cliffs and headlands
Of beautiful Albion beckoned them onward
Far o’er the flood-deeps. Fond-loving comrades
Of the good days of old, eager to meet them,
Hied then to greet them: hearth-companions,
Kinsmen and brethren, came then joyfully,
Blithely embraced them, and bade them to tell of
The land and loved ones left o’er the waters
Far to the northward; of friends, kindred
And own dear fatherland fondly inquired they,
Asked then eagerly, earlman of earlman,
One of the other. — Early anon,
They bound to the shore the barks of the athelings
Eighteen beautiful birds of the water
Close by the coast, cabled them tightly,
Fastened them firmly, lest the flood of the tide
Should sweep out to seaward the swans of the ocean,
Or the shattering shoals should shiver and crush the
Barks that had brought their brethren and comrades
Safe o’er the sea-deeps. — Sweetest to Hengist
Of all that had come o’er the cup of the billows,
O’er the mingling of waters, westward and southward,
Was the lady Rowena, the lovely, beautiful,
Gem-brilliant maiden, jewel and darling
Of Hengist the hero: the harp and the gleeman
Have sung for ages the elf-bright folk-maiden’s
Beauty and loveliness. Broad her renown is;
Forever and ever England shall honor her
As first of her fair-haired, fond-lovèd myriads
Of beautiful maidens, mothers and daughters
And sisters of heroes: the sweet-toned harp,
Joy-wood belovèd, long shall continue
To sing her glory in saga and story,
Lovely, illustrious lady Rowena,
Leading the line of belovèd, winsome
Women of England, elf-brightest, purest
Of mothers and maidens that men ever sought for
Of earls ever fought for; then ever-belovèd
Hilda the holy, handmaid of Heaven,
Eminent virgin; Ethelfleda
Lady of Mercia, mighty, fearless,
Queenly, kingly, conquering heroine,
Sister and daughter and darling of heroes
And known of all England; the excellent folk-lady,
Godiva the gracious, glory-encircled
And honored forever, who, to aid her dear liegemen,
With body all bare (but her bountiful hair)
As a robe fell around her) rode through the borough,
While here leal, true-hearted troopers and thanemen
Hid in their houses with hearts that were thankful,
Shunning to shame her; the sheen-bright twain
Edith entitled, each famous in
Legend and lay of lands numberless,
High-hearted, sweet-mooded, song-famous maidens,
Honored of England. Not e’er hath been told me
Of any more goodly and gracious in spirit,
More eminent folk-queen, than Edith the gold-adorned
Peace-weaver pure, who passed the wild-dashing
Ocean-ways angry to Otto the mighty’s
Spacious dominions, splendid and far-famed,
Where, gleaming with jewels, the gem-brilliant maiden,
Sweetest of virgins, sister of Athelstan,
Was Otto the atheling’s honored, distinguished,
Dear lovèd wife, till death departed them,
Till she laid down her life-joys. Then the Lord’s dear virgin,
Edith the pure, angel-white, holy
Handmaid of Heaven, whose heart in her childhood
Turned from the tawdry trifles and honors
Of rank and of riches, resting, abiding
In God and His glory; gladly forsaking
The wealth and the worhip of a well-lovèd daughter
Of an earthly king, to earn the proud title
Of a child of God, great, almighty
Ruler of heaven. — Hengist discoursed, then;
The crafty, cunning, clever war-hero,
Earl of the Anglians, opened his word-treasure,
Spake to the king then: “Come now, I beg thee,
Lord of the Kentmen; look with thine eyes on the
Beauteous buildings and brave liegemen-thanes
Of Hengist and Horsa. High heavenward
We have builded a beauteous beer-hall and palace,
Of halls handsomest heroes e’er revel in,
Splendid, spacious, sparkling with rarest
Jewels and gems, joy-hall of heroes;
Come thou and see it.” Soon, then, Vortigern,
Folk-lord of Albion, fared with the hero
O’er the waters of Wantsum to the wassailing-building,
Mead-hall resplendent: men of that era
Not ever had seen, nor even had heard of
Hall-building grander. Glad was Hengist,
The artful and eager earl of the mainland
Was merry in mood, then; he minded to win him
No little of land from the lecherous, treacherous
King of the Kentmen. The clever, eagle-eyed
Earlmen of Thanet, thanemen of Hengist,
Watched the two folk-lords; well might they reckon
That Hengist and Horsa and heroes that gladly
Served them as liegemen not long would content them
With land of the island out in the waters,
But early would ask for acres unnumbered
And Kent as a kingdom. Came, then, the twain,
Hengist and Vortigern, the hall-building seeking,
Joy of the Jutemen. Jewel-bedighted,
Gold-adorned, gleaming, the glorious building,
Hall of good heroes, high in the ether rose
Spacious and splendid, sparkling, glimmering
Wide o’er the water-ways. Well ‘t was builded,
Fastened most firmly. Folk of that era
Not e’er had beheld, not ever had heard of
Building so beautiful, beer-hall and palace
So high under heaven. Hugely ‘t was fashioned;
Sturdy and stout it stood in the borough
Delightsome to liegemen; late and early the
Thanemen of Thanet thither did hie them
For gifts and for glee. Glad, bright-hearted,
Feasted the earlmen: ale-vessels clattered,
Beer was abundant; blithe were the heroes,
Sorrow they knew not. — Ne’er had Vortigern
In all of Albion, in east or in west,
In north or in south, seen or heard tell of
Mead-hall so mighty. The muscle and skill
And brawn of great builders had bravely, stoutly
Fashioned and finished it, fairest, strongest of
Halls under heaven. Hengist and Vortigern
Entered then in; up on the dais
Side by side, then, sat the two folk-lords,
Land-rulers friendly. Faithful they yet were
Each to the other: what after should happen
Only Wyrd the wise wist in her counsels;
She told it to none. Troopers of Hengist,
Dearest of hearth-friends, hastened to benchward:
Lief and loyal liegemen and vassals
Of the far-famed, eminent folk-lord of Thanet
Bent to the benches; beakers clanged, then,
Platters clattered, crackled and rattled,
The hall resounded; heroes a-laughing
Drained, then, their beakers. Boastingly, Hengist,
Lord of the island, opened his word-hoard,
Spake after custom: “Kinsmen, liegemen,
Thanemen of Thanet, thanks offer I
Odin and Thor for all they have granted
Me and the heroes that hither followed me
O’er the waves westward. Well I remember
The days of my youth: no younker on earth was
More daring and doughty. Down from the north
O’er the seas sailed I southward, westward,
Greedy of glory; greatly I thirsted
For fame ‘mid the races. My father gave me then
Homeralaf1, handsome, splendid old
Ring-sword radiant, richest of weapons,
Hugest and heaviest of hand-works of giants
Of ages of yore. I easily brandished it,
Fame-deeds performing, fought as a hero in
Many a far-land. Men of the southland
Often did seek to sieze, grapple my
Far-famous weapon: I fiercely resisted them,
And dealt them their death-blows. I dared as a stripling on
Countless adventures. Vortigern, the Kentman,
Heard of my fame in his far-away island
Off in the ocean: the excellent folk-lord
Was glad when he saw me sail to his land
To fight with his foemen. I have fought with the dreaded,
Hated and horrible hordes that are pouring in
Down from the north, the numberless, slumberless,
Pitiless Picts, painted demon-like,
And the merciless Scots: we merrily scattered them
Back to their caverns. I carved, slivered them With Homeralaf1: he helped me cheerfully,
Brave-hearted battle-sword.” The boasting of Hengist
Pleased the good earlmen; exultingly laughed they,
Their shields shaking, shouted sonorously;
They loved the good leader who had led them to battle
O’er land and o’er sea, and said to each other
That neither south nor north, in the circuit of waters,
Was there better or braver battle-folk leader
Than Hengist, earth-famous ocean-king, land-chief,
Ruler of races. I rarely have heard of
Gifts goodlier given by liegelord
To excellent earlmen ‘neath arch of the heavens
Than Hengist the good one gave to his earls in the
Banqueting-building. The bountiful liegelord,
Mighty men-ruler, commanded his thanes, then,
Jewels to fetch there, gems in abundance,
The red-gold ring, the radiant, glittering
Collar and bracelet; and for battle-equipments
The burnished and beautiful byrnie and helmet
And chased-handle chain-sword, choicest of weapons.
Fain and freely, the folk-lord of Thanet
Lavished his gifts on liegemen and kinsmen
With abundance of bounty: the brave-hearted earl was
Beloved of his thanemen. The lord of the Kentmen
Was meetly remembered, as men of that day were
Mindful of etiquette. The island-chief bade them,
Brave battle-leader, bear to king Vortigern
The gold-twisted torque he had torn from the neck of a
Prince of the Picts that he pierced in the battle
And slivered in slices. Soon, the bright-gleaming,
Radiant, wreathèd, rich-carvèd jewel
His neck encircled: serpents of gold
Clasped the bright collar. — Then the queenly Rowena
Entered the building: the elf-lovely maiden
Glittered and glimmered with gold-work resplendent
And rings the richest, and her robe sparkled with
Gems and jewels. Joyously, hero-thanes
Marked the dear maiden, as, mindful of etiquette,
On to the dais the daughter of Hengist
Stately proceeded, stood near her father,
Dearest of daughters. The decorous-mooded,
Beautiful virgin bore in her hand, then,
The choicest of chalices, chased, embellished
With gravings of gold, goodly and precious
Heirloom of ages, all over engraven with
Writings of rune, radiant, sheen-bright
Ale-cup of old. The excellent maiden,
Most lovely of ladies, her lip-treasure opened,
Spake with decorum: “Quaff this beaker,
Leader belovèd, liegelord, chieftain
Of battle-thanes brave. Be thou forever
Honored of earthmen while ocean surroundeth
The blustering bluffs.” The beaker he took, then,
Far-famous hero, held to his lips
And lustily drank of the luscious and mellow,
Honey-sweet liquor; handed the bumper, then,
Back to the maiden, the mead-cup of heroes
Again to the gold-adorned, gracious, belovèd
Lady Rowena. Went she, anon,
Where the excellent-mooded earlmen of Hengist,
Kinsmen-comrades, were quaffing joyously
Bumpers and beakers, bare the bright cup to
All the dear earlmen elder and younger,
Greater and lesser, graciously tendered it
To one and to all: they each tasted, then,
Drank of the mead-cup. The dear-lovèd lady,
Fair maid of Anglia, early proceeded,
Stately advanced, where Vortigern ogling her
Sat on the dais, said to the folk-king,
“Wes hael2, O King!” handed the cup to
The liegelord of Albion: answered the Kentman,
“Drinc hael2, drinc hael2,” and heartily drank of
The luscious, delicious, liquor of heroes
That frothy and flaky foamed in the silvery,
Beautiful beaker. The bowl quaffed he,
And kissed the most comely, queenly of maidens,
The lovely, illustrious lady Rowena,
Would fain possess the fair-haired, sweet-mouthed,
Dear-lovèd damsel, daughter of Hengist,
Not long to delay (he little remembered
The wife he was wedded to), wished not to tarry,
Longed for the lady, lecherous, treacherous
Beast-king of Kentmen. Crafty, artful,
Hengist of Anglia, eagle-eyed folk-leader,
Laughed in his spirit: he sped well in the
Snare he had set for the simple, lecherous
Lord of the Kentmen. He looked at the king, then,
Beer-fuddled, simpering, saw how he ogled the
Sweetest of maidens. Said, then, Hengist
Wihtgils’s son (war-heroes hearkened,
Liegemen-thanes listened): “Lord of the Kentmen,
Good king Vortigern, the kissing of maidens
Is a crime in the lands that lie o’er the waters,
Off to the east of you. Earls of the mainland
Might mulct thee heavily, save haply the honor
Of kissing a king should count as atoning
For lapse in the law. The lady Rowena
Shall early be off to her own dear fatherland,
Far o’er the flood-deeps, where folk-law shieldeth her
From high and from low.” Loud, vehemently,
The king of the Kentmen cried, then, to Hengist
(Eager his love was): “Earl of the Saxons,
Give me the gracious, goodly, beautiful
Rowena to wife; and I well will requite thee,
Liegelord of Thanet. There are left me a-many
Other good islands off in the waters
For excellent earlmen.” Answered, then, Hengist,
Artful, crafty one: “Nay, I will not barter
My heart’s dear jewel for hundreds of islands
Off in the waters. My word hath been given
A prince of the Frisians, a folk-lord eminent,
Who hath wished her to wife as a weaver-of-peace
‘Twixt Frisians and Anglians. My honor is plighted,
I swore on my sword.” So spake Hengist, then,
Most artful of athelings: eager, vehement
Vortigern cried then: “Kent is the fairest
Of lands under heaven. Let the dear maiden,
Gracious, winsome, gladden and cheer me
As my beauteous bride, and I blithely will grant thee
This kingdom and country to keep and govern
Forever and ever: aid me in holding
What yet shall remain to me.” Yelled, then, Hengist
(The guest-building groaned): “Good is the promise,
Take care that thou keep it. Kent, then, is mine, now,
To have and to hold. Haste with the maiden
West over Wantsum: my word hath been given,
Freya hath heard me. I will help thee to conquer
Thy fell-mooded foemen.” Forth, quickly then
Vortigern led the virgin belovèd,
The peerless, precious princess Rowena,
Delayed not nor lingered: his love was so eager
He cared not for kingdoms. The carles of the Anglicans
Reveled in riot, carousing, shouting,
Bellowed like oxen while bucklers and lances
Were banging and clanging. A brave battle-thane
Who sat at the feet of the folk-lord of Thanet
Held in his hand a horn brimming with
Earl-cheering ale, urged the dear heroes
To hearken and hear him: “Health to the mighty
Odin and Thor and all the good gods that
Help the brave hero; and health, wealth to the
Great-grandson of Odin, eminent, far-famous
Hengist of Kentland.” Cups, bumpers were
Drained to the drop. They drank lustily,
Shouting gustily: good was the mead, then,
Heroes were happy. The harp’s sweet music,
Clear song of the singer, swelled to the welkin,
Joy-wood of heroes. A henchman-ministrel,
Gleeman of Hengist, heartily sounded his
Liegelord’s praises, as lightly he struck the
Sweetest of melodies. The mead-building echoed
With mirth and with music, the merry, melodious
Lay the gleeman. Gladly liegemen
Heard of their folk-lord’s far-famous, mighty
Deeds of renown; how his name was dreaded
In all earth-regions, where ocean with billows
Washes the shingly shores and the edges
Of lands without number. The lord of the Anglians,
Hengist the hero, his harp-strings touched, then,
Glee-wood of heroes; gay-mooded sang
In measure and melody. The merry, glad-hearted
Liegemen of Hengist lifted their voices
In tumultuous chime, marking the rime
With clanging and clanking and clatter of lances,
Brave-hearted thanemen. Blithely sang he,
The giver of rings gustily chanted,
Offspring of Odin, eminent folk-leader:
“Hail, ye good heroes, henchmen, kinsmen,
Liegemen belovèd! The land of the Kentmen

Is eager to greet you: go and possess it
Forever and ever. To Odin and Thor
And all the good gods that guided us hitherward,
The thanks of us all ever be rendered,
Gods of the northland; but glory forever
To Homeralaf1, belovèd, faithful
Heirloom of ages: I will e’er give him
Thanks and praises, for he proved in the battle
Most mighty of helpers. Hear when I tell you
That ‘t was my dear sword that safely hath brought us
Through thick and through thin: thank him forever,
Best of all battle-swords.” The banquet was over,
Feasting was finished: folk-earls of Thanet
Hastened then homeward, the hall-building left,
Excellent ale-hall. They early were ready
To cross ov’er the current, where Kent in the westward,
Of lands liefest, longed for good heroes
To earn and possess her and ever to bless her.

Tags: albion, Folk, Horsa, Jutemen, Kentmen, lady rowena, Odin, Picts, Rowena, saxons, Thanet, Thor, Vortigern

The Death Of Horsa

by John Lesslie Hall

Six-Winters’ time had the sweet, wavy-haired,
Curly-locked queen of Kent-land and Albion
Delighted her lord, lived with decorum
As wife of his bosom. War-mooded men, then,
Hot-hearted Kentmen, harassed the spirit
Of Rowena the winsome, well-lovèd, far-famed
Queen of the Kentmen; cruelly vexed her,
Said she had marred the metal and valor
Of the king of the Kentishmen; counselling Vortigern,
Urged that the excellent earls of the mainland,
Hengist and Horsa and henchmen unnumbered,
Be driven away to their wild, desolate
Dens o’er the ocean. Earls of the Kentmen,
Thanemen of Albion, angrily said
That the men of the Saxons minded to seize the
Whole of Albion, to own and to hold it
Forever and ever. Oft, liegemen-thanes
Vassals of Vortigern, with vehemence cried:
“The Scots and the Picts, scathers and foemen
Loathsome, horrible, are less to be dreaded
Than the artful, eager, ever-encroaching
Sons of the Saxons, the savage, grasping
Henchmen of Hengist, who hither came over
As friends and defenders, but foully have proved them
Treacherous traitors.” They taunted the king,
Said that he loved the lady Rowena’s
Outlandish kin, caring but little
For folk of his own. Early anon, then,
They chose as the king of Kent-land and Albion
The atheling Vortimer, Vortigern’s son,
Wolf of the Kentmen. Wild, fierce-mooded,
Hot-hearted, cruel, the homes of the Anglians
He ruthlessly ravaged, rashing and lashing
The liegemen of Hengist, harried them fiercely,
Hacking, hewing them, hotly pursuing them,
Proudest of princes: at the play of the edges,
The meeting of spears, he spared few of them,
Doughtiest, mightiest man of that kindred,
Folk-leader fearless. Four great battles
He fought with the foreigners; would fain drive them from
Albion’s isle and east o’er the flood-deeps,
Back to the lands they had left on the mainland,
O’er the home of the whale. Horsa was doomed, then,
Though brave in the battle, brother of Hengist;
He had lived the life-days’ limit that Wyrd,
Spinster of fate, had spun for that hero,
Must bow in the battle. Bloody the field was,
Of fights fiercest: the flower of warriors
Fighting fell foremost. On the field of Aylesford,
Was bitterly fought the fiercest of hand-fights
The earlmen of Vortimer ever did wage with
Athelings of Anglia: then exulted the raven;
That battle-grim bird was blither on that day
Than ever before. The eagle was gladder,
The wolf merrier than for many a summer:
On the slain seized they, supping, lapping
The blood of the brave, biting, mouthing
The flesh of the fallen. The field of Aylesford
Reeked with the blood of the best of the heroes,
A river of red; ruthless, woful
And sudden the slaughter of sons of athelings,
Bitter the battle. Braver heroes,
Worthier war-smiths, ne’er went under helmet
The foeman to face. Far-famed Hengist
And Horsa his brother were hot for the battle,
Woden’s great-grandsons were greedy of slaughter,
Mighty, raging, were racing and chasing
Earlmen of Albion; eager for conflict,
The excellent athelings would unaided, single
On the field find then a folk-lord of Albion,
Would gash him and slash him, slit him in slivers,
And call to the raven to come to the revel
With the wolf of the forest. Fierce-mooded Horsa,
Wihtgils’s son, soon grappled with
The brave Catigern, brother of Vortimer,
Prince of the Kentmen. Proudly Horsa, then,
Sought for the struggle, said defiantly
Lifting his linden-shield: “I am liegeman-kinsman
Of Hengist the hero; Horsa my name is,
As well thou wottest. Would I might spare thee
The swipe of my sword as I swing it in battle:
For Rowena’s dear sake I’d willingly grant thee
Thy life-joys longer.” Loudly Catigern,
His shield shaking, shouted to Horsa:
“I ask thee no odds; on to the battle,
Horsa the Saxon. The sons of Vortigern
Have sworn by their sword-blades to sleep not, slumber not,
Till the tricky, treacherous troopers of Hengist
Are out on the ocean and off to their far-away
Cliffs and caverns. Come now and let me
Hurl thee to hellward.” Horsa stepped forward,
The angry, earnest earl of the Anglians
Brooked no delay: bitter, implacable,
Frantic his mood was. Forward he stepped, then,
Hot ‘neath his helmet. High o’er his visor
The boar-image glistened; the good, trusty
Beast of the battle bravely guarded the
Head of the hero. His harness did sparkle,
His bright-shining battle-sark brilliantly glittered and
Shone with its sheen. From its sheath forth, then,
Flashed Felalaf¹, faithful, dauntless
Brand of the hero, hankered for battle,
Was eager to bite through the bone of the hateful
Foeman of Horsa, freely would drink of
The blood of the Welshman. Brightly glimmered he,
Old, iron-made heirloom and jewel
Of Wihtgils’s son, sword of the ancients,
Handwork of giants. The hot-mooded, fire-breathing
Horsa and Catigern clashed in the battle,
Lashing and slashing with sword-blades that rattled;
Fierce was their fury. Fire, then, glimmered,
Sword-sparks bright brilliantly shimmered;
Felalaf’s¹ eye flashed in his wrath, then,
Brave-hearted battle-sword. Bitterly fought the two
High-hearted heroes; I have heard never of
Earls angrier, eagerer to grapple
Each other in battle, uncle and stepson
Of lady Rowena: woe was her spirit,
Laughed she but little, when she learned eftsoones
Of that dreadful, direful, death-dealing struggle
‘Twixt Saxon and Celt; herseemed that her heart would
Burst in her bosom. Bold-mooded Catigern
Was stout striking then, stood in the combat
More firmly far than his father had ever
Told him or taught him, turned not away
To flee from the foeman, foined with his war-blade
Eagerly, angrily. The excellent Horsa
Asked for no odds; his edges mighty were,
Keen were his cuts. Catigern had perished,
Liegeman of Vortimer, alone in that struggle,
Had not Wyrd the wise willed and determined
That both of the brave ones should bow in the battle,
Fall on the field: folk-troops and races
Bend to her bidding. The bold giants, then,
Together did grapple; gory the field was,
Red like a river. Rapidly whirled they
Blows on each other in onset of battle till
The brand of each earlman bit through his foeman’s
Armor of iron and in to his bone-house
Dived down deeply, drank of his life-stream,
Blood-thirsty battle-blade. Both the good heroes
Fell to the earth, then; not either could longer
Live in his life-joys, must lie prone there
Shorn of his war-strength, sharing no more
The hall-glee of heroes, hearing no longer
The song of the singer as he sang, chanted
Of earlmen of old: off on their journey
Went the two warriors. Woful of mood,
Sad, heart-weary, was Hengist the atheling,
When he learned that his brother was biting the dust and
Lifeless was lying low on the battle-field,
Parted from earth-joys. The prince of the Anglians
Was woful of spirit, wide-famous leader:
He bent o’er his brother’s bloody, lifeless
Soul-house forsaken, said mournfully
In rhythmical measures, lamenting and praising:
“Dead is Horsa, my dear-lovèd brother,
Eminent atheling. Not e’er under heaven
Was hero more hardy. The hand is now lifeless
That erstwhile did aid me in all my adventures
Afar and anear. There was never faithfuler,
Loyaler liegeman, liefest of comrades,
True-hearted counsellor, trusty adviser,
Shoulder-companion. We played in our boyhood
As fond-loving brothers in the far-away, sea-girdled
Land of our fathers. Alas! no more
Shall the hero behold it. Let henchmen lovingly
Lift the brave earl up from his slaughter-bed:
Let the bier be brought, and bear him from henceward
Off to his burning; let brave ones attend him
Hence to Valhalla. Hither summon ye
Harfeax² the gleeman to rehearse the all-glorious
Deeds of the dead.” ‘T was done as he bade them;
And early thereafter the excellent minstrel,
The singer of Hengist, sought his dear liegelord,
Saw him then sadly sobbing, groaning,
Mourning and moaning, lamentingly bewailing
The fall of his famous, fond-lovèd brother,
Hengist for Horsa. His heart bitterly
Ached as he looked at the belovèd, faithful
Hero and leader, as he lay so helpless,
Lying so lifeless, loosened from earth-joys,
Reft of his war-strength: I wot he had rarely
So slept like a sluggard. Sad-hearted, mournful
Was the thaneman-harper; he thought tenderly
Of far-away fatherland, how a fair, beautiful
Boy in the borough was brave, yet gentle,
Meek and yet manly. Mourned he for Horsa,
Well-lovèd warrior. The woe-mooded scop³,
Harfeax², the heart-weary harper and minstrel,
Wakened the chords, calling forth music
Sad yet triumphant, would sing the story
Of Horsa and his glory. The good old minstrel
Touched then his strings with tremulous, quivering
Fingers that faltered, fondly lamenting:
“Low lies Horsa, belovèd, dauntless
Offspring of Wihtgils, my excellent, well-lovèd
Liegelord of yore. I yet can remember
Those long-gone days in the land of my fathers
And home of great heroes. Happy, joyous
Were Wihtgils’s earlmen; the ale-building mighty
Was thronged with thanemen; thousands of jewels
Glistened and glittered. Good was the liegelord,
Niggardly never. It is known of all races
How bairns of his body were born in his manor,
Hengist and Horsa, handsome, belovèd,
Beautiful boys. Blessèd be Odin
That I was ever an honored and welcome
Guest in that gift-hall! Goodly, noble,
The beautiful bairns burst into manhood
Soon on my sight; I saw them before me,
A pair of great princes. I am pained, woe-stricken
That one of them lieth lifeless, unwarlike,
Down in the dust, dead in his armor,
Shorn of his hand-strength. A handsome, fair-haired,
Beautiful boy was the brave young Horsa,
Stately of stature, straight as an ash-spear,
Manly of mien, yet meek in his spirit,
Tender and true. He turned unto warfare
Early in youth; his excellent father
Let his brave earlmen take him off on the seas
To the northward and southward. None was hardier,
More dauntless, intrepid. The two great brothers
Filled with their fame the fjörds and the rivers
And oceans and seas; and all of the northland
Rang with their deeds, and the deeps did resound
With the praise of their prowess. Prone in the dust now
The dear one is lying: dead is Horsa,
Our fond-lovèd friend-lord: Fate hath offsnatched him,
Wyrd is supreme. I ween, friends will soon
Build him a barrow broad, uptowering,
High under heaven, as heroes and leaders
Are wont to enjoy. Well merits he
That forever and ever honor be paid him
‘Mid all the races that ocean encircleth
As he kisseth the cliffs: come, hero-thanes,
Lift the dear liegelord.” The lay then was ended,
Sad yet triumphant song of the gleeman,
Mood-weary minstrel. Men of the Anglians
Brought, then, the bier, bare the dear hero,
Atheling of earlmen, off from the field
Where low he was lying. They looked on him tenderly
(Sad were their spirits); he saw not the good ones,
Gave them no answer to all they were saying
Of him so kindly. They quickly lifted him,
And laid him away where the wolf and the raven
And the dewy-winged eagle not ever might touch him,
Where the birds of the battle and beasts of the carnage
Might never annoy him, noble, distinguished
Earlman, atheling. The excellent hero
Must climb on the pyre to the clutch of the fire,
Must hence to Valhalla. Henchmen-kinsmen
Of the battle-famed brothers would burn the good hero,
Give to the flame the famed, eminent
Kinsman of Hengist; high on his pyre
Would aloft lift then their liegelord-chieftain,
The man so lamented. Many good earlmen
Fetched for the fire fagots and twigs
And logs of the largest, laid them together
High ‘neath the welkin: the wood-heap was early
Built for the burning. There were brought thitherward,
On the heap hung then, helmets, byrnies,
Arms and armor and all such war-gear
As their lord when alive delighted to gaze on,
Or bear to the battle. Beautiful gems,
Of rings richest and rarest of treasures,
Were flung on the fire: the flame devoured them,
Ate them greedily, gulping, swallowing them,
Hungriest of heroes. Henchmen-kinsmen
Of Wihtgils’s bairns brought his good charger,
The horse of the hero: the high-bred steed
Was led to the pyre and laid thereon then
To burn with the brave one. Bright were his trappings,
Gleaming, golden; the gear of the war-horse
Was shining, sheen, would shame not his rider when
In the halls of Valhalla the hero all-mounted
Passed to his place in the palace of Odin.
Two well-lovèd kinsmen, Wiglaf and Guthmond,
Mindful of duty, mounted the fire
To go with the atheling off on his journey
To Valhalla on high: the horse he would ride on
(The kinsmen were comrades) when he came in his glory
To the heaven of heroes. Heart-weary thanes,
Wailing, disconsolate kinsmen and vassals
Of Hengist and Horsa, hymning their sorrows,
In mournful measures lamented their leader,
In rhythm and rime: “Red is the fire,
Bitter the bite of the blaze as it burneth,
And the flame as it fluttereth. Fare thee well, Horsa,
Leader of liegemen, belovèd, lamented
Earl of the Anglians. Honor attend thee
In Valhalla, the heaven of heroes and warriors
And all good athelings. Thy earlmen will ever
Remember thy mighty muscle and valor
And deeds of great daring. Dear-lovèd Horsa,
Ride thou in splendor the spacious, lofty
Halls of Valhalla. Here, soon will we
Build thee a barrow, a broad-fashioned, high-towering
Memory-mound, that men of all eras
Ever may honor the excellent name
And far-reaching fame of the faithful, dauntless
Liegelord and leader, belovèd, trusty
Brother of Hengist.” The burning was over,
The flame flickered, flaring but little,
All in ashes the atheling Horsa
And battle-steed brave; burnt, molten, then,
Were treasures and gems. The troopers of Hengist
Delayed not long, liegemen bereavèd,
A-building the barrow; battle-thanes reared it
High under heaven on hill-top alofty
Nigh unto Aylesford. With earth and with rock
They sadly, proudly piled it heavenward,
Mournful, exultant, till upward there rose a
Memorial mound-hill, to mark and to honor
The passing of Horsa, prince of the vikings,
Who had laid down his life for liegemen and kinsmen.
They with flint faced it, that, firm on the summit,
It stout and strong might stand on the hill-top
For ever and aye. The excellent heroes
Wished then but little the waters of heaven,
Whether rippling in rain or rushing in rivers,
Should wash away ever the well-lovèd atheling’s
Broad-stretching barrow: they built it so firmly,
With stones stayed it, to stand there forever
As a memory-mark to the man who had gladly
Laid down his life that his liegemen-kinsmen
Might have and might hold the homesteads and land-rights
The gods had given them. Goodly, lofty
The barrow uprose, ready to hold the
Atheling’s dear ashes; up tow’rds the welkin
The hill-mound of heroes a-high towered then,
That farers from far-lands might fail not to know it
As Horsa the hero’s high-rising, spacious
Memory-mound. A many of jewels
Bright and beautiful, bracelets, collars,
Brooches and rings, richest of treasures,
Were brought to the barrow. The bright-shining helm,
Armor of iron and all good weapons,
Swords and lances, that liegemen and heroes
Love in their life-days were laid in the mound-hill
With atheling Horsa’s ashes and bones,
His troopers twain, and the trusty, faithful
Horse of the hero. Valhalla received them
Early thereafter: they entered proudly
The spacious and splendid expanses that span the
Halls of Valhalla. Then the heart-wretched troopers,
Mourning shield-bearers, mounted their steeds
And rode round the broad-stretching barrow of Horsa
Sadly, slowly; singing his praises
Mournfully in measure; remembering with pleasure
His deeds of daring, his dauntless, fearless,
Adventuresome valor; vowing and declaring
That, through all the ages, forever and ever,
Their children’s children should cherish and honor
His name and fame, never forgetting
How Horsa with Hengist hither had led them
To the isle of Albion, ever-belovèd,
Peerless and precious pearl of the ocean;
How, to win for his folk this fairest of places,
He sought and fought the fiercest and bravest
Of all men of Albion, and eagerly hastened
To lay down his life for land-folk and kindred.

Tags: albion, Anglians, Celt, Folk, Horsa, Kent, lady rowena, Odin, Picts, Rowena, saxons, Vortigern, Wihtgils

The Landing Of Hengist and Horsa

John Lesslie Hall

Early thereafter, earlmen of Anglia,
With Hengist and Horsa, heroes distinguished and
Leaders belovèd, leaped in their fast-chasing,
Stout-builded, sturdy steeds of the water-ways,
On the seas clomb then, to seek for the far-away,
Wide-famed, sea-girt, water-encircled
Island of Albion, most excellent land
The sun ever smiled on. — In song and in legend
Of the folk of the east, ‘t was often recited
(The heroes had heard it), how hardy, brave-mooded
Men of the mainland once mounted the ocean,
The storm-troubled sea, that stretched to the westward,
And sailed o’er the currents, till they came to a land of
Fruits and of flowers and foliage so green
As never was seen, whither Saxon rovers
Thronged in thousands, thinking to capture
That land so lovely. — Light-hearted, glad were
The henchmen of Hengist; high their glee was,
Merry their mood: men do not know what
Wyrd awaiteth them.   Wassail and song
Rose to the welkin,   There rode, then, at anchor
Close by the cliff-edge, keels for the journey,
Three of them lovely: lay they well fastened there
Safe by the sea-shore, with sails fluttering
Broad on the breezes that blew o’er the ocean,
The realm of the oar.   The excellent vessels were
Eager and anxious to be off on adventure,
Longingly looked tow’rd the lands of the west,
Thirsted for glory.   Thanemen of Hengist
From afar and anear knew of the journey,
To the coast came then; craving for glory,
Begged he would grant them to go on the far-famed,
Daring and venturesome voyage, to bear their
Aid unto Albion: earls of that day were all
Eager for honor.   Off by the shore, then,
The birds of the billows blithely awaited the
Heroes’ behest; in harbor all ready were
The keels at the coast.   There clomb to the prow, then,
High-mooded, happy henchmen and kinsmen
Of Hengist and Horsa.   Hundreds of earlmen
To the shore thronged, then, each thinking that, haply,
‘T was he that would have the high and distinguished
Honor and glory of going that daring and
Venturesome voyage.   The vessels lay ready,
Foam-throated floaters.   Fair-haired, eagle-eyed
Heroes of Anglia were happy and glee-hearted,
Lifting their lances, laughing, shouting,
Wished for the wind to waft them to Albion’s
Beautiful shores.   Bountiful treasures,
Richest of ring-mails, rings and jewels and
Collars and corselet with carving embellished
By armorer’s art — all quickly were
Laid on the vessel, loveliest of gifts for the
King of the Kentmen.   The customs they knew
Of earls of that era.   Not ever was told me
Of gifts that were greater: good were the heroes! –
They sailed seaward then; saw in the distance
The fairest of fatherlands, fond-lovèd country,
Home of good heroes. — High on his courser,
The guard of the strand stood on his watch and
Gazed out to seaward, saw his dear comrades
Sail out on the ocean, off on the fathomless
Home of the whale: his heart wavered then
‘Twixt sorrow and joy.   He rejoiced in glory and
Augured them fame; but he feared that his dear ones
Were leaving belovèd land-folk and kindred
Forever behind them, on endless adventure,
To meet them no more.   Yet, mindful of honor,
Loudly he shouted: “Lords of the Anglians,
Hengist and Horsa; hail, ye distinguished
Earls of the ocean.   To all and some of you
My greeting I give, gladly saluting you,
Wishing you well.   Wend on your journey,
The gods watch over you.   Odin and Frea
Keep you and care for you coming and going,
Where’er on the ocean ye earlmen may venture.
May Njörd graciously grant you his aid o’er
The throng of the waters.   Thor the Hammerer
And Baldur the Beautiful bless you and keep you
Fighting for fame.   Farewell, ye heroes:
Hasten ye hitherward home to your fatherland,
Laden with lustre.”   Then, lightly and sprightly,
The foamy-necked barks fanned by the breezes,
Likest to birds bosomed the waters,
Coursing the currents, keels of the dauntless,
Famous, fearless, far-sailing heroes,
Encircled with speed.   The sea-boats glided,
Barks of the vikings, bounded the mere-ways,
The fields of the flood.   Fain, glad-mooded,
Hengist the high-hearted hero and leader,
Stood by the steersman that sturdily guided the
Rein-deer of breezes as she ran through the water-streets
Over to Albion.   The Anglian leader, then,
Eagerly asked as to all of the beauteous,
Delightsome lands that lay in his vision
Afar and anear, northward, southward,
Eastward and westward; anxiously waited he
And hoped for his haven, as hied the good vessel,
The deer of the surf, southward, westward,
To Albion, the fair and ever-belovèd
Land of great heroes. — High on his seat, then,
The steersman espied a storm to the northward;
Ocean was angry; the oarsmen fearless,
Sons of the sea.   Soon were the vessels
Embraced by the billows, the birds of the ocean
Clutched by the currents.   The cordage creaked,
The chains rattled, chattered and clattered,
The good ships groaned, grewsomely moaned.
Blustering blasts blew from the northward,
Eager and icy: I have heard never
That so fierce and frightful and frantic a storm e’er
So rushed in its rage and raved o’er the sea-deeps
Icicle-laden. — The earlmen were merry,
And shaking their shields, shouted so loud that
The terrible roar of the tempest was more
Than drowned in the sound. — The sea-ways were troubled,
Rocking and roaring; no rest had the vessels;
The tackling crackled, as timbers and beams were
Mashing and crashing.   The men of the Anglians
Wished but weened not the well-lovèd ships could
Bear them to Albion.   Then brightened the heavens,
The sun from the southward soon in the welkin
Lavished his luminous lustre and splendor
O’er land-folk and races, lovely, brilliant
Candle of heaven.   O’er the cup of the waves, then,
The swans of the sea swam on the billows,
Southward and westward, till soon in the distance the
Earls of the Anglians not aught could behold of
The land where their loved ones long o’er the waters,
Yearning to meet them, waited to greet them;
No more saw then the sweetest of countries
That ocean doth ever ardently woo to his
Blustering embraces.   The battle-brave earls
Saw in the distance southward and eastward,
Far o’er the sea, Saxon and Angle-land,
Cradle of heroes, and the cloud-capped shores
Where the free Frisians, famed ‘mid the races,
Have with locks unshorn lived through the ages,
Bending their necks to none under heaven,
Kingliest of kins.   They came on their journey
Where Eider and Elbe and Ems and Weser,
Dear-lovèd waters, wind to the ocean,
And beauteous Rhine, river of heroes,
Flashing and splashing foams to the northward
Seeking the sea.   Then sailing westward, they
Early anon drew nigh to the beautiful,
Longed-for, lovely land they had dreamed of
On their way o’er the waters, winsome, peerless
Isle of the ocean, ever-belovèd
Land of the leal.   Live forever, thou
Beauteous Albion, bride of the waters,
Fairest of fatherlands!   Fondly, lovingly,
Sing we thy praises, precious and world-honored
Land of our fathers. — The foam-covered vessels
Came to the coast, the keels speedily
Borne by the breezes, birds of the water-ways
Flying afar.   Folk of the island, then,
Gladly greeted them, giving them welcome as
Friends that the Father had found them and brought them
To fight with the foeman.   Few of them wist, then,
How Wyrd the weaver wove at her spindle
Of good or of ill for all men and races
That dwell on the earth, as ever she must do,
Goddess supreme. — Proudly equipped
The men of the ocean were eager to step then
Off the dear barks that had brought them to Albion’s
Shores they had longed for.   Their lances did shimmer,
Their bills and burnies brightly did glimmer
And glisten resplendent; sparkling, flashing,
Jewels were bright in the battle-true, sturdy
Brands of the heroes.   The barks of the troopers,
Well-lovèd vessels, went shoreward then,
Grinding the gravel.   Glad were the sea-boats
To lie by the land they long had been seeking for
O’er ocean’s angry eddies and currents
That had dashed them and lashed them.   Then the daring, intrepid
Earls of the Angles eagerly hastened to
Leap to the land, longed to possess the
Loveliest of isles that ocean claspeth
In his big embraces, most beauteous of places
In the wash of the waters. — Well they remembered
The rings, jewels and richest of burnies,
Collars, corselets, with carving embellished,
They had laid on the ship as likest to please the
King of the Kentmen.   With care lifted they
The bountiful treasure. — So the troopers all ready
Stood on the strand: the strangers were eager to
March on their mission.   Men of the island,
Folk of the Kentmen, came then to meet them
And gladly did greet them, gratefully hailing the
Fond-lovèd heroes that feared not to bring them
Aid o’er the ocean, early did hie then
To bind the dear barks that brought them to Albion,
Where Wantsum’s waters, washing and swashing
Shingled the shore.   The ships quickly were
Bound with their ropes and rocked on the billows;
The beautiful-bosomed birds of the ocean
Quietly lay in the long-sought, well-earned
Nests they had flown to. Fain, Anglians
Would look for the king; called for the gleeman to
Sweep o’er his strings and sing them the glories
Of their fathers before them, folk-leaders mighty,
And lays of the land they had left far behind them when
Hither they hastened.   The harp resounded
With music and melody.   Mightily shouted
The exultant, triumphant earls of the ocean,
Sons of the sea; they sang with the gleeman of
The doughty and daring deeds wrought by their
Fathers of old, earth-famed, distinguished
Founders of freedom and folk-builders mightiest
Known of the nations.   Anon, the joyous
Shaft and the shield shared in the merriment,
Clanging and clanking and clashing and crashing,
Well-lovèd weapons.   War-thanes, liegemen
Of Hengist and Horsa hied them to Vortigern,
Lord of the land, liegelord of Albion;
The troopers did tramp, treading measuredly,
Sought for the king: the sweetest of melodies
Wound to the welkin, winsomest of music
‘Neath the hand of the harper. — High on the dais then,
The lord of the Kentmen saluted the brave-hearted
Heroes and vikings: “Hail! ye distinguished
Men of the mainland, mighty, eminent
Folk-leaders famed.   Foeman implacable
Are cruelly harrying, killing and slaying us;
Men of the Picts painted, horrible,
Grisly and grim, ghastly destroyers,
Swoop from the northward sacking and burning our
Hedges and homesteads, heedless of pity and
Fierce-mooded, fell; and, from far o’er the waters,
Men of the Scots, mighty and scatheful and
Cruel and venomous, are coming in hordes
To grind us to powder.   Great-hearted heroes,
If ye came o’er the ocean to aid us in driving
And beating these demons back to their dens in the
North and the west, I know it will happen
That forever and ever earthmen shall honor you
And gleeman and minstrel remember your deeds in their
Legend and story.”   Strided then Hengist
Up to the dais; angrily, hurriedly
Cried to the king: “We came o’er the ocean,
Asking not honor: the island of Thanet
Is the loveliest of lands that lie in the billows and
Are washed by the waters, well-lovèd island,
Dearest of places.   Promise us this
To have and to hold as a homestead forever
For us and our heirs, if we aid you in driving these
Demons and devils to their dens in the northland and
West o’er the waters.”   ”Well hast thou spoken,
Hengist the Saxon; so shall be it then,
High-mooded heroes.”   The hall resounded
With gladness and glee; gifts were abundant and
Beer was not bitter; bowls overflowing were
Lifted aloft; and the lord of the Kentmen
In the brimming bumper buried the sorrow that
The wrath of the hero-chief wrought in his soul-deeps.

Tags: albion, Anglians, Baldur, Folk, Frea, hail, Hengest, Hengist, Horsa, Kentmen, Njörd, Odin, Thor

The Calling Of Hengist and Horsa

by John Lesslie Hall

Lo! in legend and lay long we have heard of
The fame of our fathers, folk-leaders mighty,
Eminent earlmen.   Oft, gleemen-thanes
All through the ages, excellent song-smiths,
Have sung of the bold and brave and illustrious
Fathers of England from far o’er the waters,
Earls of the eastward, how, oft in their sea-boats,
They sailed from their happy homes on the mainland
Far o’er the flood-deeps, famed, mighty ones,
Westward to Albion, wishing, craving
More honor and glory than ever had come to
Earls of that era.   I have ne’er heard of
Men so mighty of muscle and valor,
Earls so eminent, as the atheling-brothers,
Hengist and Horsa, heroes of Anglia,
Lords of the mainland.   The lay of the gleeman
Is full of their fame.   Far ‘mid the races,
The minstrel’s song, swelling to heavenward,
Tells of the splendid, spacious, audacious
Deeds of those daring, doughty, invincible
Fathers of freedom who fared o’er the waters
Hither to England, and here builded them
A kingdom so mighty that men cannot shake it,
And hell cannot take it.   These high-hearted, eminent
Earls of the mainland, eager for glory,
Were feasting, carousing in their far-away, sea-washed
Home in the billows: blithe were the sea-kings,
Beer was abundant.   Their beakers lifted they,
Lustily shouting: the sheen-bright, delicious
Drink of good heroes they drained merrily
From cups that were brimming, from bumpers adorned
By the art of the graver.   ’Mid all of the races,
Kindreds and folks, few had not heard of
Wihtgils’s sons, Woden’s great-grandsons,
Hengist and Horsa, heroes distinguished,
Land-chiefs belovèd.   Lavish of treasures,
They feasted and shouted far over the waters,
East over the ocean, where Anglians and Jutemen
And men of the Saxons, mighty, dauntless,
Royalest of races, were reared ‘mid the billows,
Founders of freedom.   There flowed in abundance
The dear-lovèd mead, mellow, delicious
Cheer-drink of heroes: high was the glee,
The bright cups clattered.    Clear to the welkin
Sang then the singer the sweet, heart-cheering,
Most winsome of melodies men ever listened to,
Heroes under heaven.   I have heard never
‘Neath arch of the ether of earls gladsomer,
Of men merrier with music and laughter
And song of the gleeman.   Sang he exultingly,
In hall and in bower, to hero and maiden,
Of the daring deeds done by their fathers,
Of mighty marvels of muscle and valor
Wrought by their forefathers, far-famous heroes and
Athelings of old.   Earls, hero-thanes
Harked to the harper.   The high-mooded troopers
Lifted their lances and lustily bellowed,
Clattered and clanged them, clashing and crashing
Their shields and their shafts, shouting, yelling,
So great was their glee; good were their folk-lords,
Their liegelords belovèd were lavish of jewels;
Beer was abundant, and beakers were foaming
And bumpers were brimming; the benches did rattle,
Loud was the laughter. — Then the lady Rowena,
Wavy-haired, winsome, well-lovèd daughter
Of Hengist the atheling, entered the mead-hall;
With jewels unnumbered, the gem-brilliant maiden
Glittered and glimmered and glinted resplendently,
Star-like did sparkle, as stately, decorous
She came through the building.   The brothers were seated,
Hero by hero, high on the dais,
Famed folk-leaders.   Fondly Hengist, then,
Greeted his daughter: down by her father
She sat on the settle, sweet, elf-lovely,
Curly-locked lady.   The lay of the gleeman, then,
Sounded sonorous, swelled like a chorus,
Rising to skyward; the scop’s clear strains,
The harp’s sweet harmony, heavenward mounted,
Merry their mood: of men under heaven
There is none wise enough to know or to dream
What Wyrd the weaver willeth to bring him
Of good or of ill: to each happeneth
Of weal or of woe what Wyrd appointeth him:
She is supreme.   There passed, then, a liegeman
Where Hengist and Horsa, high-mooded kinsmen,
Bold, battle-fierce, their beakers were tasting,
Spake with decorum, came with his message then,
Door-warden doughty: “Dear lovèd leaders,
There are come to our coast, craving to see ye,
Eager and anxious earlmen from Albion’s
Far-away shores, have fared o’er the water-ways,
Came o’er the currents, craving to see the
Belovèd lords of the lands of the Saxons,
Whose fame, they say, hath afar and awide been
Borne on the breezes that blow to that far-land
West o’er the waters.   They wish and do beg ye
That ye famous folk-leaders will fain grant them
A hearing to have now.”   Hengist replied, then,
Offspring of Woden: “Etheldrith dear,
Excellent earlman, hast thou asked these wanderers
What led them to leave their land and their kindred
Far o’er the ocean, and out on the waters
Boldly to battle the blustering currents,
Sailing the seas?”   Said then Etheldrith,
Door-warden doughty: “I doubt not the sleepless,
Watchful and dauntless ward of the sea-coast
Questioned them coming, as his custom is ever
To stand on the strand striding his charger,
Curly-maned courser.”   Quoth then Hengist,
Wihtgils’s son: “Safely then lead them,
Excellent Etheldrith, in to the building
While bumpers are brimming; bid them to enter the
Hall of good heroes.”   High on the dais, then,
Sat the two brothers; blithe were the earlmen,
Doughty and daring: of death, horrible
Robber and reaver, recked then but little
The far-famed, unflinching, fearless, invincible
Earlmen of Anglia.    All was yet joyous,
Happy was Horsa: for him was not done then
The weaving of woe that Wyrd, the mighty one,
Winds as she will for world-folk and races,
Children of men. — Mindful of courtesy,
Etheldrith came in to the wine-hall,
Bringing the messengers, men of the waters,
Earls of the ocean.   The excellent liegemen
And kinsmen of Hengist and Horsa were feasting;
Singing their songs, sat they carousing,
Gladsome, gleeful.   Gaily shouted they,
Sorrow they knew not.   The sons of the athelings,
Brave-hearted battle-thanes, were blithely quaffing the
Luscious and mellow mead that was flowing
In beaker embossed and bumper ycarven
By art of the craftsman.   All their equipments,
Armor and arms, did the earlmen of Albion
Early do off, entered the building,
The wide-famed wassail-hall; with welcome were greeted
By many an Anglian as ale-cups were passing. –
Ludwell discoursed, a lord of the Britons,
Earlman of Albion: “Ye earth-famous brothers,
Hengist and Horsa, heroes of Saxony,
Fair-haired, far-renowned folk-leaders mighty,
Hearken our message.   Hither the currents,
The billows of ocean brought us uninjured,
Bold in our barks, braving the waters,
The seething surges, sent, sped upon
Errand most urgent, asking the mighty and
Far-famous, fearless, fierce-mooded, dauntless
Hengist and Horsa to help us to conquer the
Direful, devilish demons and monsters
That, night and day, never relenting,
Dog and pursue us, devils from hell,
Fiercest of foemen.”   Furious-mooded
Hengist, then, answered: “Hear when I tell ye
That Wyrd all-wise willingly helpeth
The undaunted earl if doughty his spirit!
Go ye then back; bear to your people
This message from Hengist, men of the westward,
That death is dearer to the dauntless hero
Than infamous life is.”   Ludwell replied,
Prince of the Britons: “Bravest of warriors,
High-mooded Hengist, hearken, we beg thee.
We are kinsmen and vassals of Vortigern mighty,
King of the Kentmen.   We came at his bidding
To pray that your troopers, with ye two as leaders,
The brave-hearted, battle-true barons of Saxony,
Will lend us their aid, our land and dear ones
To defend from the furious, fiery, implacable
Fiends of the north.   Foemen oppress us,
Cruelly harry us, killing and slaying us:
Men of the Picts painted and horrible,
Those grim, grisly and ghastly destroyers,
From the north swooping are sacking and burning
Our hedges and homesteads, heedless of pity,
Fell, fierce-mooded.   And from far o’er the waters
Men of the Scots, mighty and cruel,
Grind us to powder; greedy of plunder,
They rob and ravage, ruthless and savage
Demons and devils.   Dear hero-knights,
Wide-famous war-leaders, will ye not hearken
Our mournful entreaties?   Our true-hearted liegelord,
The wielder of Kentmen, well will requite ye,
Vortigern the king will care for and grant you
Gifts as gracious as good he bestoweth
Free from his hand.”   Hengist the chieftain
Laughed then loudly, land-prince distinguished,
Said then smilingly: “Meseemeth ‘t were better
That your king grapple and gird on his weapons,
His armor and arms, his excellent falchion,
And lead out his loyal liegemen and vassals
To fight for their homes, than hide in his palace
In shameless deeds, shaking with terror,
Meek ‘mid his maidens: many have told us
He slinks like a sluggard.   But say, good Ludwell,
What aileth Albion’s earlmen and princes
To weep, wailing like women and children,
And flee from the foemen?   Your fathers of old
Were brave as the bear.   With bosoms undaunted
They looked for the legions that long had been winning
Wars o’er the waters, waded to sea-ward
Meeting the foeman.   Much have your people
Failed of their fame.   Folk-leaders worthy,
Hasten ye homeward hence in your vessel,
Safe in your sea-boat, say to your liegelord
That heroes of Anglia heeded your message and
Will send you assistance.   The seas angrily
Foam in their fury; far is the journey,
Dire the danger: if we dare to adventure
Crossing the currents, our keels imperilling,
Far from fatherland, facing the billows
That roar and tumble and toss and rumble,
Where the wind northeast, icicle-laden
Fiercely doth whistle, — if we face the great tempests
Bringing you aid, offer ye nothing
Our kindness requiting?   Will the king of the Kentmen
Gladly give to us gold in abundance,
Shepherd of peoples, will shower upon us
Gems and jewels, your generous-mooded
Liegelord belovèd?”   Ludwell rejoined,
Earlman of Albion: “Eastward of Kent,
Off in the ocean is the island of Thanet,
The loveliest of lands that are lapped by the billows,
Winsomest of isles of all engirdled
In the wash of the waves, water-encircled,
Fairest of places.   This fain, gratefully,
We’ll grant you to hold as home-land and country
Forever and ever, excellent-mooded
Lords of the Saxons; and lavish of treasures
We’ll fee your dear troopers, if ye fare hitherward
And help us to hurl these horrible, cruel
Demons and devils to their dens in the northland
And west o’er the waters.”   ”Well have ye spoken,”
Hengist exclaimed; “we will come early now,
Braves of the Britons, and bring you assistance,
Soon o’er the sea-deeps.   You may say, strangers,
That Hengist and Horsa, the high-mooded, dauntless
Kings of the creeks, will climb on their vessels with
Many a daring, doughty, unflinching
Sea-dog and viking, and seek for the beautiful,
Wide-famous, winsome, well-lovèd, down-trodden
Island of Albion.   Not any of foemen
Ever hath daunted us.   On all the waters
We have stretched under heaven our standards and banners.
The ocean is ours; the isles of the sea
Bow to our bidding and bring us their treasure
Of grain and of gold.   Gleeful, fearless,
We ride on the rivers, racing and chasing
The fleets of the foe.   Fare ye then homeward,
Back to dear Albion; bid them to turn their
Eyes to the eastward.”   Off then they hastened
Forth on the flood-ways, far to the westward,
Hying them home.   The harp’s sweet music
They heard on the air.   The earls of the Anglians,
Their cups draining, drank as they hearkened:
Sweet was the song; sang then the harper
Gladly his gleesongs, gave forth his music
Proudly, exultantly.   His praise lavished he,
Singing the story of the exceeding glory
Of earlmen of old, athelings, mighty ones,
Sons of the gods, scions of Woden;
Urged the brave earlmen ever to mind them
From whence sprang they; sped them on their journey,
Urged them to Albion, isle of the sea-foam,
Land all lovely with leaves, blossoms,
Forests and flowers, fairest and winsomest
Island that ocean ever embraceth,
Bountiful, beauteous; bade them possess it.

Tags: albion, Armor, Britons, Etheldrith, Hengist, Hero, honor and glory, Horsa, Kentmen, Saxony, Vortigern, woden, Wyrd

The UN is threatening to put the Tower of London on its list of world heritage sites in danger after its experts accused the UK of damaging globally significant sites such as Stonehenge, the old town of Edinburgh and the Georgian centre of Bath, the Guardian has learned.

Unesco, the UN’s cultural agency, has told ministers in London and Edinburgh that it wants urgent action to protect seven world heritage sites which it claims are in danger from building developments, and said in some cases the UK is ignoring its legal obligations to protect them.

Read more..

Tags: stonehenge, unesco, world heritage sites

On the 9th Lenting the Guardians of the White Horse Stone gathered for the 8th Guardians event.

Previously, I had reported that in late Fogmoon last year we had planted around 30 hedge plants which we had obtained free from the charity Woodland Trust. After that event, I had ordered a further 30 hedge plants to complete our project to revitalise the vegetation of the woodland around the WHS.

We met up and made our way to the WHS and got straight into the work. I wanted the children to get as involved as possible with the planting, so Broni and Claire supervised the planting of some ferns she had kindly brought along with her. Whilst the children started to do some planting the adults split into two groups, one going off to clear any rubbish from the area and the wider area and the second group set about repairing the log reinforcement, which had been disturbed, and building a natural retaining wall for the side of the steps. These were all made from fallen wood recovered from the surrounding area, thus utilising only natural materials. In time this will naturally break down, but will not pollute the soil in anyway. We are very keen to ensure that the work we do does not have a detrimental effect on the area in anyway. The hedging plants we use are all native.

With one bank repaired and the other newly constructed it was time to break for food and the BBQ was lit and the kettle put on. No working party could be considered without a cup of tea! As we prepared for lunch two people came to visit the WHS and so we explained a little of the mythology and history of the area, as well as explaining what we were doing. We must have made a good impression on them as I am delighted to say that Keith joined the OR later that day!

With lunch done we set about getting the hedging plants in. Everyone got stuck in and before long we had the 30 planted. We fitted the rabbit guards and supports to give our young plants a chance to take root. We watered the plants in well and I have to say that mother nature has done a great job of watering them in still further since we planted them. Right now it looks a little strange with all the rabbit guards, but as the plants grow and take root we will be able to remove the rabbit guards and may even need to thin the plants out, you never know if some will not take root and die. The Holly’s (Heimdalls tree) look especially good either side of the steps up to the WHS.

With the work completed, it was time to clear the site of tools, etc… and prepare for the Egg hunt and our Blot. Fran and Ruth went off and hid the eggs (chocolate ones) in the wood. The kids wasted no time searching for the eggs and once again the eagle eyed Odin found the most eggs. We gathered all the eggs in then divided them out evenly and made sure that egg hiders did not go without, though I think one or two eggs may have been eaten in the hiding process!

We decided upon holding a Blot to Ostara. The first signs of Spring were showing, and we wanted her blessing for the new plants. We started the blot by defining the Holy Ve, warding it and then calling the holy energy of the runes into the sacred Ve. When it came to lighting the fire though it was very reluctant to start and no amount of coercing from Hengest seemed to help, so I decided it was time to call upon Kenaz for assistance. As we started to chant Kenaz and the momentum built up, so the fire took hold and soon the fire was roaring with energy. This is not the first time we have called upon Kenaz in this way and have been answered with a roaring fire. This in itself was quite a powerful moment, but just as the flames were gaining strength we had a reminder that whilst we were honouring Ostara, Ullr was not about to give way just yet! No sooner had we finish chanting Kenaz than there was a hail storm. Just as had happened a year ago we were treated to a real combination of Fire and Ice. The fire continued to roar and the hail stones rained down. Naturally we continued with the Blot despite getting pretty well soaked. The day had energised us so much and along with these events during the blot I felt compelled to create a cone of power. The hail stones continued to fall and the fire roared, so intense had the fire become that it was almost impossible to keep our hands above the flames.

With our gealdor completed we honoured our Gods, comrades, family and absent friends with our toasts. The horn was passed round twice and then a libation offered to Hengest and Horsa, our ancestors and the High Ones and finally to Mother Jorth and Ostara. We had already honoured Ullr, how could we forget the Winter God, especially after giving us the Hail Storm?

Well once again it had been a very productive and enjoyable day, though hard work, it’s always good to be with your own folk and to have achieved such good work. The children had played as well as worked and it’s great to see them enjoying themselves. A very big thank you to Brony and Claire for supervising the children’s planting and for bringing along the ferns and rabbit guards. Thanks to the rest of the Guardians that gave up their time and helped to restore the vegetation and to remove yet more rubbish! Your efforts are greatly appreciated and I hope your work inspires others to take up the challenge and do something to honour our great Mother, Mother Jorth.

Whilst checking on the WHS recently I spent sometime talking to a pagan chap who was walking in the area, He informed me that the local council had applied to extend the AOANB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty) and SSSI (Special Site of Scientific Interest) of Boxley Warren to incorporate the White Horse Stone. This will offer more official protection for the Stone itself and the area, and so we hope no further attempts from the mobile phone companies, though I suspect this will not be the case, they are pretty persistent and I am expecting another attempt in the future, especially when the optical cable is still sitting there waiting to be connected to something!

I have no doubt that the work of the Guardians has left a lasting and very positive impression on many people. The threads of Wyrds web interconnect in infinite ways and the actions of the Guardians has vibrated the web in such a positive way that even those that would never give Odinism a thought cannot help but be aware of the wonderful work that the Guardians have carried out.

Hail the Guardians!

Tags: Blot, Guardians, holly, Kenaz, white horse, whs, Winter God, Woodland, woodland trust

In late Fogmoon (November) Andy Robertson and myself met at the White Horse Stone to plant 30 native hedge plants. For the past few years we have been removed a great deal of rubbish from the immediate and surrounding area and at our last clear up we decided it was the right time to begin the process of restoring the area around the Stone itself to a more natural and sympathetic state.

Some time back another group removed far too much of the natural vegetation from around the Stone in an unsympathetic way, though their intention was probably well meaning it left the area rather barren and so we have now started a programme to enhance the area with the planting of native hedge plants including Holly, Dog Rose, Hazel, Hawthorn, Buckthorn and Dogwood.

We had the good fortune to have been given over 40 rabbit guards and plant feed from Andy’s partner Broni and I had managed to secure four bags of compost from the local nursery as a donation. The Hedge plants were also obtained free from the Woodland Trust, a very noble charity which is dedicated to restoring and protecting native woodland in the UK and provided the plants as part of a project to plant 12 million native trees.

These packs of hedge plants and trees can be requested via the woodland trust’s website and I sincerely hope that every Hearth in the UK applies for a pack under “youth group” and where possible get the children involved in planting. We are expecting a second pack in Feb or March and will be getting the young Guardians involved in the planting of this second batch of Hedge plants, re-connecting our youth with nature is key to helping them understand the integral link between mankind and nature.

Tags: buckthorn, dogwood, Hawthorn, Hazel, holly, native trees, plants and trees, woodland trust

As Odinists, we should make guardianship of Mother Jorth a priority at all times. We need to ensure such things as constant vigilance over the way we dispose of our rubbish, the way we utilise her precious gifts of resources such as water, wood, energy reserves etc and generally work to raise this same awareness in others also. In this latter task, Earth day is a golden opportunity for us to do just this, being as it is a specifically cited date within the diaries of the wider populace due to its historical roots. The original significance of Earth Day lays with its origins in a day known as Arbor Day. April 22nd is the birthday of Julius Sterling Morton, the founder of Arbor Day, a national tree-planting holiday that was initiated in 1872. Arbor Day became a legal holiday in Nebraska in 1885, to be permanently observed on April 22nd. According to the National Arbor Day Foundation “the most common day for the state observances is the last Friday in April . . . but a number of state Arbor Days are at other times to coincide with the best tree planting weather.” In recent times and apart from in Nebraska where it originated, it has largely been eclipsed by the more widely observed Earth Day. It is often extended from April 16th-22nd as a week long celebration.

Throughout the Rite, many folk gallantly took to the great outdoors in a bid to support the day in whatever way they could manage. In Vinland, Hadley, Donar’s Hearth and Heimgest with Eowyn all worked in their respective areas, whilst in the UK, The Guardians did their bit. Here follows the reports made by the participants themselves that show the vital activities some of our folk were involved in:

Hadley:

“Well, Earth Day here in the city was held yesterday, on Saturday April 21st, due to the fact that there wouldn’t have been any turnout if it had been held on Sunday (!). I had volunteered to plant trees in a local park (Schiller Park in German Village, near my house) since I figured it would be a good way to a) help promote environmental awareness in my locality and b) help to further the ‘greening’ of the city. When I arrived early in the morning to the designated location, I was informed that the mayor would be arriving shortly and that we were all to watch him plant the first tree, then we would be broken up into separate groups to work for the rest of the morning. OK, whatever. Well, as the mayor arrived the crowd (naturally) swelled, and in the end everyone who had been assigned other tasks (such as picking up trash or weeding) insisted on planting trees with the mayor, leaving many jobs unattended to. So, since I was there to work and not to gape at a politician I have no respect for, I revolunteered myself to shovel immense piles of mulch over the nearby playground. Mulching isn’t exactly my idea of promoting environmental awareness, but children are vital… and they will be the ones taking over the task of stewardship and conservation in the future. Apparently just shy of 1,000 people across the city spent the morning volunteering, which is impressive in my opinion, regardless of their motivations for helping out. Hopefully a few of those folks will continue to live in a manner that has less impact on our Mother Jorth, and help to guide the future generations in making wise and conscious choices. Earth Day is a great resource for drawing public attention to important causes… but the key is in daily awareness and practice.”

Heimgest and Eowyn (April 22nd):

“Today, Heimgest and I had a riot! Enough of the “Stop HAARP, Stop chemtrail” leaflets were printed out so that we could walk around the shopping mall in a town about an hour’s drive away. Because we have to fund such things ourselves, it seems wise to at least try and get the information out to places where it might actually be read: that was an unlikely occurrence in “the Wack!” First stop was the library where we strategically placed a few around the magazine and newspapers section and then it was on to one of the malls. Having successfully managed to keep our distance between a security guard and ourselves (he was obviously taking his duties far too seriously considering the wage he would be getting, on a Sunday!), we distributed a goodly number to the most likely-looking candidates. Then it was on to an excellent coffee shop where the coffee is ground on site and folk can read one of the many books, magazines and newspapers they have, or just gaze around at the original artwork on the wall; this was a good place to leave a few more leaflets, which we of course did. A final trip to Fort Langley- the oldest town in BC saw us lightened of a few more, A handy notice board was discovered opposite the local church so a couple simply had to be pinned up there! Altogether a very successful and excellent day in every way. This last week, we have also created a space to house some Mason bees, which we purchased at very small cost. Many of you will have read the posts on the declining number of bees as they just disappear from hives; doubtless, HAARP and chemtrails are a huge causative factor in this. The situation is dire: no bees would see the end of mankind within 4 years. But I think anyone who has a balcony, patio or garden should help avert this tide by setting up a space for Mason bees: they are inexpensive to purchase, cost virtually nothing to keep, are 75% more efficient pollinators than honey bees and don’t travel far from home. There are also other solitary types of bee you could consider: a search on the net will tell you what you need to know. Oh yes, and mason bees don’t sting unless seriously provoked and then it apparently only feels like a mosquito bite! Our work isn’t finished. We shall continue putting out leaflets in suitable locations and probably head to Vancouver, where we can perhaps be more certain that folk will read the literature- even if they do nothing except speak to a friend about it; every little helps and remember: no act with the right intention- however small- is too small for planet Earth.” (copies of the leaflet can be found on the files section of the forum and will soon also be available via “The Guardian’s” website).

Donar’s Hearth (April 22nd):

“Our Hearth went out and beautified Mother Jorth by picking up trash in our designated area. We were really worried because the weather report wasn’t looking so great, but once again the Gods and Goddesses blessed us with a beautiful few hours to clean up! This was the first time Astrid and Thora were able to help out (there is an age restriction). It is funny to think when we first got this stretch of highway Astrid was 9 and Thora was 8. Again…handing the torch to the next generation. Change starts at home, or within the Hearth. Monica and Derek came out to help as well. It is nice to have loyal Hearth members that one can count on for every Folkish endeavour.” Then later on the same day… “we were at the skate park (our weekly skateboarding practice) and it was so messy AND we still had the adopt-ahighway stuff in the van, so we decided to pick up trash there. Hakon loved it! Gunnar wouldn’t let me take a picture of him…LOL…but he helped tons too!

The Guardians of the White Horse Stone:

Asrad has already written a very comprehensive report of this event so I shan’t go into detail suffice it to say that The Guardians of the White Horse Stone did another major clean-up operation on April 22nd in which heaps of rubbish was removed from the footpath and hedgerows. This time they turned their attention to a site a short distance away from the White Horse Stone: Shoulder of Mutton Wood- set in an area of great beauty overlooking the Medway- is home to a large burial mound of around 3500 years of age. This very successful operation was followed up by celebration of the Sigurd Blot on the burial mound itself. Here are a couple of photos to remind folk of some of the amazing work they did:

The importance of environmental activism within the Rite cannot be overstated. As can be seen here, we already have several dedicated activists on both sides of the pond. However, we can never have enough folk working within this field of activity. In these turbulent times when our very planetary home is being wilfully destroyed in the names of global power and corruption, we musteach and every one of us- do whatever is within our power to help thwart this great tide of destruction that sweeps beautiful Mother Jorth. To be constantly aware of the way we dispose of our household refuse- by recycling where we can and being mindful of what liquids we tip down the sink, which end up in our waterways amongst other measures- is of paramount importance. Likewise, what chemicals are you using on your garden that also seep into the ground and down through to the water tables? Humans, animals and plants alike depend upon that water for survival. All our activities in the here and now impact all other life forms and hold implications for future generations through the great web of wyrd. To care for Mother Jorth in a state of constant awareness is an act of sacred vigilance; by performing tasks- such as cleaning up rubbish- we clear her great meridians that criss-cross our lands so their energies might again flow free of negativity; then they can properly nourish and sustain vibrant life. By raising awareness in others about issues that pollute and threaten the very existence of life on earth, we spread the torch of knowledge, which inspires soul directed action; for our soul parts are intimately bound up with that of our great mother. Thus, in helping her, we are also helping ourselves and all life forms. For as proud Odinists standing at the helm of the New Awakening, we shout a defiant “yes” to life in the face of all that threatens our folkways. And so once again bright Berkana may dance upon our lands and within the hearts of our people!

Tags: earth day, energy reserves, Fort Langley-, great outdoors, guardianship, national arbor day foundation, Schiller Park, tree planting

On a beautiful Sunny Ostara morning the Guardians met in North Kent to carry out the first clean up of 2257. We met at our usual meeting place on Blue Bell Hill prior to travelling the short distance to the planned new clean up site. Over the past three years the Guardians have removed a tremendous amount of rubbish from the area around the White Horse Stone. I would not like to guess at the actual weight of all that rubbish, but it would certainly fill many skips. Such a good job has been done by the Guardians that it was decided that it was time to seek out another location in need of some TLC (tender loving care) from the Guardians, so after some searching I decided upon a location within a few miles of the WHS and along the North Downs Way.

The site itself is known locally as Wouldham common and sadly a prime location for fly-tipping as there is reasonable access to the area by a track. We left several of our vehicles at a safe location and many of the Guardians walked down to the clean up site. On arrival Asrad detailed the working parties to their various task’s. The children set about clearing the general litter from along the NDW foot path all the way down the Shoulder of Mutton Wood whilst the adults set about bagging up the fly-tipped bathroom suite and general household rubbish that had been dumped by some mindless moron, most likely a builder seeking to avoid paying waste removal fees.

Moving like a well oiled machine the Guardians made short work of removing all the rubbish and moving it to the agreed collection point in readiness for Tonbridge and Malling Council to collect. Amazingly the fly tippers had even dumped green waste, garden cuttings which could have been composted or taken away free by the council (90% of local councils in England collect green waste free of charge).

The next task was to carry out a clean up of the NDW track. The NDW is very popular with walkers and cyclists, but like many other places such activity brings those that do not appreciate the beauty of the area they are enjoying and so a great deal of litter is dumped by a few selfish idiots. With litter pickers (provided by the council) the Guardians set about clearing the hedgerow and woodland along the NDW with great efficiency. In just a few hours we had cleared a massive amount of rubbish and the area looked a great deal better having been cleansed.

Throughout the clear up we were passed by walkers, cyclist and local people walking their dogs, many stopped and asked questions, and Hengest did a great job as PR officer, though even he was taken back when one rather dim person asked us if we were dumping or clearing, obviously they missed everyone wearing a guardians t-shirt!

Well I’m a bit of taskmaster but decided that everyone had done a superb job so agreed to break for a well earned lunch. Wouldham Common was chosen for the picnic site and we set about lighting the BBQ’s and getting the kettle on. Tyrsson had brought his own BBQ’s, though I think he had brought the most ineffective BBQ I have ever seen! Fortunately my superior BBQ was able to provide the workers with adequate amounts of food whilst Tyrsson’s huge burgers gently warmed themselves in the sun! As is normal there was much banter and laughter and everyone enjoyed the beautiful weather, especially the children, they had gone off into the woods to build a shelter.

Reluctantly we cleared away the picnic and prepared ourselves for the final purge before holding Blot at a wonderful site in Shoulder of Mutton Wood. One final sweep of the area resulted in another 5 sack falls of litter. With our task completed we made our way down into Shoulder of Mutton wood and the blot site, a collapsed ring burial mound. The site does not officially have a name other than Shoulder of Mutton Wood (due to its shape), but on old maps and according to some of the older residents of the area it is known as Ringsbury Hill. Even on a modern OS map there are several places in the immediate area which seem to point to this being the original name, Rings Marsh, Ringshill Farm and Ringshill Place, such evidence surely points to Ringsbury Hill being the original name for this site.

Before we gathered for Blot folk took in the atmosphere of the site and its locations overlooking the Nashenden and Medway valleys. The view down to the river Medway is very nice. We always end a Guardians meeting with Blot, our clean up of the area is a religious act after all and so we should honour our Gods and Goddesses as well as Mother Jorth, so we held our Sigurd Blot on top of the Burial mound. Everyone spaced out around the summit of the mound and faced inwards. The Blot itself was both powerful and calming, if that makes sense! The site has a great deal of energy and so the blot itself was enhanced, charged still further with the natural energy of this site, infusing our positive energy, Gealdor and invocations so that a tremendous wave of positive energy surged across the Odal lands and vibrated Wyrd’s web. I think we instinctively know when a site has positive energy and Ringsbury Hill is one of those sites. It was a wonderful way to end what had been a very rewarding day.

I say it every time, but these days are a great deal of hard work, in physical effort and in the organisational aspect, but they are tremendously rewarding, not to mention tremendous fun. After the blot and some final pictures we made our way back to the cars before saying our farewells. A few of us headed off to the Robin Hood pub for dinner, a small pub in the middle of nowhere, and easy to miss if you do not know where it is. After dinner Jaime and John made their way to the WHS whilst I went and collected Blutgeist from the local station (He had been working, so was unable to make the clean up). Tyrsson had suggested that after the clean up that we should hold camp at the WHS, unfortunately he was unable do this himself so just a few hardy souls, Jaime, Blotgeist, John and myself camped out at the WHS. I say camped, but we just had sleeping bags and mats and of course a fire which we kept burning throughout the night. We spent the night talking, putting the world to rights as all Odinist do. This really was a wonderful way to follow up a wonderful day and when morning came we broke camp and packed the car.

Before dropping Jaime and Blotgeist back I took them to two other local monuments they had not seen, Kit’s Coty House and Little Kit’s Coty, also known as the Countless Stones as legend has it you cannot count the stones accurately without being turned to stone yourself. It was a truly wonderful weekend and so I would like to thank everyone for making the effort to attend and for all the hard work and laughter. I’m proud to know you and count you as friends and comrades.

Tags: blue bell hill, Medway, north downs way, north kent, ostara, Ringsbury Hill, Ringshill, tonbridge and malling, white horse

Greetings All

The Guardians will be holding their first clean up to 2007 on Ostara 21st (Saturday 21st April).

The White Horse Stone is I am pleased to say almost completely clear of major rubbish and only general litter picking is required to maintain the site at present. That being the case I have decided that a new site for our attention would be beneficial and as they say a change is as good as a break. So the next clean up will be at a site approximately 1-2 miles from the WHS. It is on the North Downs Way, an ancient track way. We will include Shoulder of Mutton wood in our clean up, a site managed by the Woodland Trust. Within the site there is a collapsed Burial mound which we will hold Blot at after the clean up. This site is very special and situated overlooking the Medway valley and River Medway.

I have been in contact with the local council, folk may remember this one Tonbrdige and Malling council (re first WHS campaign) and they will provide the tools and collection of rubbish. (I am told they will even provide vouchers for refreshments for us.) No! not beer!

We shall meet at the Lower Bell at 11.00 am, sharp (yes I know I am normally last, but I am organising things as well). We shall BBQ at lunch (weather permitting, but should be okay as the Gods look after us) and if people wish to confirm that they are coming I can book an evening meal at the Robin Hood pub, but i need to book and the earlier the better.

These clean ups are hard work, but I thnk I am safe in saying they are also great fun. We will work, eat, Blot, play and feast all on one day. I appreciate that Kent is not that close for many people, and for those that cannot make this event, but wish to organise their own I would be more than happy to assist you in anyway I can.

We shall also be holding an Egg hunt for the children, though I shall be safely locked in the car to prevent any child from being flattened in the rush for an egg!!

Date for your diaries then folks. Ostara 21st, Lower Bell public house, just off the A229 near Maidstone / Rochester in Kent at 11.00am until late!

Don’t forget to tell your hearth comrades.

SWWS
Asrad

Tags: burial mound, Guardians, Kent, Malling, north downs way, Rochester, Tonbrdige, Woodland, woodland trust

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I finally got around to ringing Orange for a PAC(K) code today, that enables me to change network. I have been meaning to dump them for a while after I heard about the White Horse Stone.

Tags: complaint, english monuments, orange, vodafone

Greetings All

Well curiosity got the better of me and so I thought I’d do a search on the Maidstone planning website. The news from the site is, I am sure you will agree with me, rather pleasing.

The application has been REFUSED!!!!

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Main Location:LAND OFF CHATHAM ROAD, MAIDSTONE
Status Refused on 28-Jul-2006

I hope we will receive a letter of confirmation and perhaps an explanation for the councils decision. It would be nice to know why they rejected it, just in case Orange did not get the message and try again.

Many thanks to everyone that sent letters and e-mails, and encouraged others to do so. I am delighted to give you this wonderful news.

Tags: Maidstone, orange, planning, REFUSED

A report from our Dutch friend Boyke:

For years now the burial mounds in the Dutch Province Drenthe have been neglected and sometimes heavily damaged. In the last couple of year’s young people do not appear to know the importance of these structures anymore and are therefore treating them with no respect at all.

A couple of years ago the first real damage was done to the burial mounds when people damaged burial mounds by pushing them over, or spraypainting things on them.

In a small town called Annen people used a burial mound which was standing in the centre of the town as a bike stand. This was unacceptable and action was taken, like sending letters, telephone calls; small meetings etc. were held to make sure that this burial mound, which is beside the graves of our ancestors and is also an object of remembrance for what our forefathers have accomplished.

Now finally after many telephone calls, lots of letter writing and talking with other people who are involved with saving these monuments and graves, the local authority has decided to put a fence around the burial mound D9 in the town Annen and a cleaning crew will help by cleaning it once a month.

Also the idea of burying the burial mounds under a layer of sand to prevent them from being further damaged has been successfully cancelled and other more preservation ideas are now being considered and executed to make sure that the burial mounds will be honoured and respected again.

Although this battle is over, the war has not yet been won since a lot of people do not understand the importance of these stones and structures. We need to make people aware of what these stones represent and when people start to realize this then we are on the way of good preservation.

Tags: ancestors, burial mounds, d9, drenthe, forefathers, monuments, netherlands, preservation