There was still a hint of cold hanging in the pre-dawn North Sea air on a spring morning

of the year 367, as a gagal of ships beached themselves in a protected cove on the southeastern

shore of Britain.

One by one, the occupants hopped out into the cold, knee-deep water, the spray soaking

through their trousers, furs, and cloaks.

A taste of salt remained on their shaggy beards and mustaches that protected their faces from

the cold sea air.

The Romans called these men sacksens, and there were hundreds of them pouring off their

boats and onto the beach, all of them laden with swords, spears, and axes.

They had braved the weak-long journey from the poor Sandy coastline of what's now

Germany and Denmark for one purpose, and one purpose only.

To raid the rich lands of the province of Britain, to sneak between the row of stone-built

forts and watchtowers guarding what was by now known as the Saxon shore, to plunder

the wealth housed in the rich villas and towns of the coast and interior.

These Saxon raiders stayed for weeks, pillaging and plundering their way through a landscape

and society that was deeply tied to the rest of the Roman world, as deeply Roman places

anywhere else on the planet.

Their appetites finally sated and their packs full of gold and silver and other precious

objects, the Saxons eventually tramped back to their boats for the long sea journey

back to the continent.

There weren't the first Saxons to come to Britain, and they certainly wouldn't be the

last.

...