In the course of a day or two Ethelred the Unready was buried by Archbishop Lyfing in St. Paul’s minster, with the assistance of the cathedral body.  Emma and her children, as also Edwy, the son of Ethelred by his first wife, were the chief mourners, nay, the only real ones.  Most men felt as when a cloud passes away.  The sad procession passed through the streets, the people flocked into the church, and in the presence of all the “wise men” of London, they solemnly committed the frail tabernacle in which the living spirit had sinned and suffered to the parent earth, where the rush and roar of a mighty city should ever peal around it.

A few days later the archbishop was called upon to perform a very different ceremony, the coronation of King Edmund, which also took place in St. Paul’s Cathedral, amidst tears of joy, and cries which even the sanctity of the place could not wholly restrain, “God bless King Edmund!” The solemn oath of fidelity was administered, and when all was over, with mingled tears and acclamations, those who had met to bury the late king greeted with joy his son and successor.

It yet remained to be seen whether the choice of the realm would ratify this decisive step on the part of the citizens of London.

Emma, the queen dowager, was deeply mortified, even while she confessed the heritage was hardly worth having.  Still her boy Alfred seemed slighted by the choice, and she left England at once, with Alfred and Edward, for Normandy, while Elgitha departed secretly from London to join her husband Edric, and tell him all that had been done.

Edmund delayed his journey into Wessex until he had duly provided for the defence of the capital, and had personally examined all the defences with a warrior’s eye.  At length the messengers who watched the Danish fleet announced its arrival at Greenwich, and that bands of warriors, numerous as locusts, were issuing thence, and advancing upon London.

Reluctant as Edmund was to leave the city, it was evident that if he delayed another day he might indeed share the perils of the inhabitants, but would probably lose Wessex, where his immediate presence was all-important.  Therefore he called Alfgar, and bade him prepare at once for a journey to the west.

Their intended route led them, in the first instance, to Dorchester, where a large force from Mercia, including most of the men whom Edmund had so long disciplined himself, and who were under the temporary charge of Hermann, were to meet him.  However, it was late before their final arrangements could be made, and the sun had already set when the citizens accompanied them to the Ludgate, and bade them an earnest farewell.

They were both clad in light defensive armour, such as could be worn on a rapid journey, and armed with sword and battle-axe.  Their own steeds, two of the finest horses England could produce, famous for speed and bottom, awaited them at the gate.  Edmund criticised their condition with a jealous eye, and then expressed approval.