Conquest moe-1

by Stewart Binns

  It was a genuine invasion force. Hereward could not have hoped for more.

  The new strategy swung into action immediately. Guarded by Hogor, the family remained at the camp on Clitheroe Hill as all twenty squadrons moved south to Chester to join forces with Eadric the Wild. By the time they arrived at the banks of the Dee, men were on the march everywhere and an upsurge of confidence was gaining momentum.

  Harold’s sons had arrived from Ireland with 3,000 men in more than 60 ships. They had sailed up the river Tavy and made their headquarters at Tavistock. There had been a general rebellion throughout the whole of Cornwall and Devon, which was spreading to Dorset and Somerset. The latest reports said that Montacute castle, seat of the powerful Norman lord Robert of Mortain, was besieged. Hereward sent an urgent message of congratulations to Godwin Haroldson and asked him to hold the ground he already had, but to wait for a signal to advance on Winchester.

  Edgar the Atheling, Earl Waltheof, Siward Bjorn and a large force had arrived from the North and were ready to attack York. The Danes had sailed up the Humber and lay in wait to the south of the city. Hereward ordered an immediate attack on the Norman garrison in the city.

  His own rendezvous with Eadric the Wild had gone well; the two men found an immediate rapport and shared a common desire to rid England of the Normans. Eadric’s contingent of 300 included only 100 men from Bleddyn, Prince of Gwynedd – far fewer than Hereward had anticipated. Bleddyn’s brother, Rhiwallon, Prince of Powys, had been killed in a skirmish and his men had gone home to Wales in mourning. Nevertheless, despite the absence of Rhiwallon’s men, the combined force now under Hereward’s command was over 700, a sufficient number to ruffle the feathers of a few Normans.

  Hereward planned to attack Shrewsbury before turning east to challenge Stafford and Nottingham. By then, he hoped William would be well to the north, busily engaging Edgar’s force and Osbjorn’s Danes, and effectively cut off from his stronghold in the South. That would be the time for Harold’s sons to march on Winchester, leading to a general rising in the South and leaving William outflanked and isolated.

  As they made camp outside Shrewsbury, Hereward consulted his astrolabe. The date was 24 August 1069, one month short of the third anniversary of the eve of the Battle of Stamford Bridge, a coincidence he thought very auspicious.

  The Norman fortification at Shrewsbury was formidable. The perimeter of the bailey was protected by a ditch, overlooked by a tall wooden palisade, and the motte was a mound of earth of considerable height, topped by a tall wooden tower. No such structures had been seen in England prior to William’s conquest and the English had no strategy for dealing with them. Hereward knew that, short of a prolonged siege for which he had neither the time nor the resources, a costly full-scale frontal assault was the only option. The Norman lord of Shrewsbury was Roger of Montgomery, an experienced soldier who had prepared well and whose initial defensive position was drawn up at the walls of his outer bailey.

  Hereward’s and Eadric’s men suffered many casualties in more than half a dozen assaults before retreating to regroup. Norman casualties were only light, but they used a pause in the English attack to abandon their bailey and move into the even more secure tower on top of the motte. To mount an attack on this stronghold involved crossing the open ground of the bailey before clambering up the steep slope. Only then would they reach the fortification itself, an edifice nearly seventy feet high.

  Nevertheless, the rebels launched three ferocious attacks, but failed to weaken the Norman position. As the English casualty toll mounted from the arrows, stones, hot oil and spears cascading from the battlements, they shot burning arrows to try to ignite the wooden structure and hurled bales of blazing straw in an attempt to set fire to its base, but the defenders were able to extinguish the flames before they caught hold. Then, as Hereward led a testudo of housecarls towards the base of the Norman motte, parts of the burgh of Shrewsbury caught light from incendiary arrows deliberately aimed at the houses by the Norman archers. Hereward called an immediate halt to the assault. The Normans cared nothing for the local population. If the fires were not put out quickly, Shrewsbury would be lost – and with it the support of the local people, many of whom were of Celtic descent. His men helped the populace douse the flames that threatened their homes before a general withdrawal was ordered.

  Hereward decided to move on to Stafford, having prepared all kinds of subversive techniques, but the local Norman warlord had taken hostages into his bailey and threatened to burn them alive if the attacks continued. They made one more attempt at Tutbury, almost halfway to Nottingham, but, once again, their attacks could not breach the Norman defences without endangering the local population. They were left with no choice but to slip away to lick their wounds in the safe haven of the lower Pennines.

  Once encamped, Eadric could offer little consolation for Hereward. ‘I’m afraid that we have no answer to these Norman towers.’

  ‘My good friend, there is always an answer. If we had ballista or siege engines, we could pound them into submission or we could starve them out. We don’t have the time or the resources to organize and protect the local people, and our numbers have fallen to a little more than five hundred. We need a new plan. Take the remainder of your men and go with Bleddyn and his Welshmen. I will give you four squadrons of mine. Retrace our route; keep the Normans locked in their towers, while I go north to see what is happening in York. Let’s hope that ours is the only part of the strategy that has not gone well. Our main hope now is the Danes.’

  By the time Hereward’s force reached Tadcaster, they had received news that lifted their spirits once more. It was brought by Edwin, who, breathless with excitement, blurted out the details. When Edgar and the Danes attacked in overwhelming numbers, they had been able to scale the tower at York and achieve total success. The only Norman survivors were William Malet and Gilbert of Ghent and their families. It had been a fierce and bloody battle. Earl Waltheof had distinguished himself by killing dozens of Normans single-handedly, beheading them as they tried to escape through the gate of their tower.

  However, there was one significant and disturbing piece of news, which Edwin saved for the end. ‘I’m afraid the city is in ruins, burned to the ground. The Normans torched everything before they scurried to their tower.’

  ‘So the city is ours, but nothing remains!’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

  ‘And what of the Norman tower?’

  ‘Gone, sir. We burned that down.’

  ‘Where are Malet and Gilbert of Ghent?’

  ‘With the Danes – they have taken them to their ships on the Humber. They intend to ransom them.’

  ‘And Edgar and his forces?’

  ‘Outside York, waiting for a response from you.’

  Hereward shook off his despondency and replaced it with a look of defiance.

  ‘Then let’s give them one. Martin, send a messenger to the Atheling. Tell him to wait outside York; we will arrive as quickly as we can. We will then go to the Danes to prepare for a major battle with William on ground of our choosing. Edwin, who is Bishop of Durham?’

  ‘Aethelwine, sir.’

  ‘Is he loyal?’

  ‘Yes, sir, he is now. Initially, after the coronation, he spoke for William, saying that he was the anointed King. However, he changed his view because of the behaviour of the Normans, especially when Robert de Commines threw him out of the Bishop’s Palace!’

  ‘Send word to him; he will anoint Edgar as King. If York Minster is in ashes, we can take Edgar to Durham. It is an important enough bishopric to persuade Rome that the hand of God is supporting Edgar’s crown.’

  Hereward and his force hurried to meet the triumphant Prince Edgar at Selby on the Ouse, a few miles south of York. It was a joyous meeting and Hereward reserved a particularly warm welcome for Waltheof to acknowledge his heroic deeds at the Norman tower. Edgar declared that a great banquet should be held and hunters were sent out to provide the fare. It matter
ed little that their dining hall was a clearing beside the old road to York; a grand celebratory feast was enjoyed that very evening. Later that night, in the midst of the gorging, more news came to gladden their hearts.

  Hereward stood to make the formal announcement. ‘Men of England, following your great victory at York, the heroics of the sons of King Harold in the South West and the courageous stand of Eadric the Wild and his Welsh allies in Mercia, Aethelwine, Bishop of Durham, has agreed to crown Prince Edgar in what remains of York as the rightful and proper King of England. He has already left Durham for the coronation and will be here in a couple of days.’

  A cry of joy rose from everyone assembled.

  ‘Tomorrow, we will travel to meet Prince Osbjorn, commander of the Danish army, to plan our attack on the Normans.’

  Another, even louder cry echoed around the clearing.

  ‘Eat and drink your fill. Enjoy your great and noble victory!’

  At noon the next day, Hereward and a small group were ready to leave the camp to meet the Danes on the Humber.

  Suddenly, the calm was disturbed by the noise of sentries announcing that a messenger approached. The herald, a boy of only nineteen who had the physique of a hunting dog, jumped from his horse gasping for air.

  Sir…’ He could not speak.

  ‘Get him water. Take your time…’

  Einar came to Hereward’s aid. ‘It’s Uhtred, sir.’

  ‘Uhtred, compose yourself. Your message can wait until you get your breath.’

  After a few moments, the messenger was able to deliver his report. ‘Sir, it’s not good news. Duke William is at Tadcaster. Arkil the Fair has stayed behind to keep watch, but he told me to come here as quickly as possible.’

  ‘He is almost on top of us; how can this be? How can he have got here so quickly?’

  ‘His good fortune, and our bad luck, sir. He was hunting in the Forest of Dean on the Welsh border. His army was on a tour of Mercia in a show of strength to intimidate the locals. He summoned his army and was on the move as soon as he heard the Danes had entered the Humber.’

  ‘How does Arkil know this?’

  ‘Sir, it makes me sick to say this, but many Englishmen are cooperating with the Normans. It is easy to hear of the Normans’ plans, because so many Englishmen are part of them.’

  ‘It is hard to believe!’ Hereward kicked at the ground in frustration. ‘Please, carry on with your report.’

  ‘Yes, sir. The Normans have split their force at Tadcaster. The Duke has sent two of his most senior men to York. They are to re-garrison the city, help the locals rebuild their houses and businesses and erect a new Norman stronghold. William has gone east to the Humber to negotiate with the Danes.’ Uhtred had lowered his voice for the final sentence.

  ‘He’s done what? My God, he must have passed within a couple of miles of us.’

  ‘Sir, he moves so quickly, it is impossible to keep pace with him.’

  Hereward turned away in fury. ‘Will he never give us breathing space? Will he never make a mistake? He outflanks us, out-thinks us, outpaces us. And now he’s ambushing us by going to parley with our own allies! Damn him! Damn him to Hell!’

  He started to pace up and down silently, then barked at Uhtred. ‘How many men?’

  ‘Arkil thinks two thousand on their way to York and another two thousand with the Duke. All heavy cavalry, in full armour, with plenty of provisions. We counted at least a dozen lords with gonfalons and more than a hundred knights’ pennons.’

  ‘Thank you, Uhtred, for an excellent report – and well ridden. Go and get some rest.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I’m sorry it’s not better news.’

  Einar waited for a moment before addressing Hereward, who had his head thrown back in exasperation and was inhaling deeply.

  ‘There is still a chance to talk to the Danes; they have no love for the Normans.’

  ‘I know, but then we should take Prince Edgar with us. Osbjorn is brother to a king. If he’s going to ask his men to put their lives at risk on foreign soil, the covenant has to be between Edgar and Osbjorn.’

  Prince Edgar spoke without hesitation. ‘Hereward, I am happy to go, whatever the risk.’

  ‘Thank you, my Lord Prince, but I must insist that you don’t. It’s not safe. William will have set a trap.’

  Einar spoke much more forcefully than usual. ‘Then you and I will go, with Edwin. You are Regent in all but name; they will listen to you.’

  ‘No, we would go to our certain deaths. I don’t trust the Danes. It is obvious now why they returned to their ships and took William Malet and Gilbert of Ghent as hostages. They never had any intention of standing with us against William’s army.’

  Einar waited patiently, giving his friend time to think.

  Eventually, Hereward spoke. ‘We wait. We wait to hear the outcome of William’s parley with the Danes. Double the sentries and post men all the way to York. At the first hint of any Normans moving towards us, we must know immediately so that we can be ready to move before they snare us like Cospatrick’s men. Keep everyone busy and alert.’

  Einar and the others then left Hereward alone to ponder their fate.

  No matter how brilliant Hereward’s strategy, William responded in equal measure; no matter how carefully he prepared, misfortune seemed to dog every fleeting success.

  Even more disheartening was the ever more evident reality that the great majority of the English simply lacked the will to resist the Norman occupation.

  25. The Harrying of the North

  The news Hereward feared most arrived just three days after Uhtred’s report of William’s march north and his audacious plan to negotiate with Osbjorn of Denmark.

  The young messenger spoke clearly and without emotion. ‘Duke William and the Danes have come to an agreement. A major part of the Danish army will spend the winter on the Humber, on the Isle of Axholme. They will be allowed to hunt and forage within a radius of fifty miles of their camp and the Normans will send them additional supplies from York and Lincoln if needed. William Malet and Gilbert of Ghent and their families have been released. In addition, a Danegeld has been paid and sent to Denmark on this morning’s tide. It is an amount so large that it took three hours to load the chests of silver and gold on to the Danish longships. But the treasure represents only half of the levy; an equal amount will be paid in the spring of next year, when the remaining Danes sail home.’

  Hereward questioned the messenger further. ‘What of William and his army, will they return to Winchester?’

  ‘No, sir. The Duke has sent to Winchester for his crown and regalia. He is to celebrate his Christmas crown-wearing at York in his new motte and bailey.’

  ‘Yes – and, at the same time, keep an eye on the Danes of course!’ Hereward observed. He was becoming hardened to misfortune and reversals.

  This time, Prince Edgar was the first to ask what their new plan would be.

  Hereward was succinct in his reply. ‘It will soon be October. The Danes will not fight, but will sit on their ill-gotten gains and grow fat in their winter camp. William will light fires and eat Yorkshire’s game in his Great Hall and parade around in his crown, thinking he is Charlemagne. As for us, we must lie low once more. Don’t go to Malcolm – I don’t trust him not to be seduced by William’s riches and hand you over to the Normans. Go north, high into the Pennines, and make a secure winter camp there. Wait for news from me; we will launch a new campaign in the spring.’

  ‘Do you still have the heart for this, my brave Hereward?’

  ‘As long as the Normans plunder this land, I have the heart for it.’

  The Prince thanked Hereward warmly, while Einar gave Edgar advice about where he should go.

  ‘My Lord, go to the head of the valley of the Swale; no one will find you there. There is some good pasture, and the valley is deep and will protect you from the winter gales. I know the area well. We can reach you from our camp without having to leave the sanctuary of the
Pennines. There is an old housecarl who lives in the Swale. His name is Osulf – I served with him for Aelfgar, Earl of Northumbria. He will be invaluable to you. Winters can be very hard there.’

  ‘Thank you, Einar. What will you do, Hereward?’

  ‘We will return to our base on Clitheroe Hill for the winter. It is better if our forces are spread far and wide; it will keep William guessing. I will send for news of Eadric in Mercia, and of the forces of Godwin Haroldson in the South West, and pass it on to you.’

  ‘Be careful, my good and loyal friend.’

  ‘I will, my Prince. God’s speed to your safe haven.’

  Edgar’s force rode off at a gallop. He took many good men with him, including Waltheof and Siward Bjorn.

  Hereward wondered if he would ever see any of them again.

  Within a few hours of the Atheling’s departure, Hereward had made a decision.

  ‘Einar, lead the men back across the Pennines to Clitheroe Hill. Edwin, Edmund and I are going to see a Danish prince.’

  The Danish camp at Axholme was a flurry of activity. A significant wooden palisade was being built on what was, in effect, an island. The ground was being cleared for wooden barracks and a massive centre post was being driven into the ground for Prince Osbjorn’s Great Hall.

  The Englishmen were given a warm welcome. Osbjorn was tall, but lacking the heavy build of a typical Danish warrior, and more resembled a diplomat or a cleric. Paradoxically, the cleric standing to Osbjorn’s right – Christian, the Bishop of Aarhus – had both the build and demeanour of a housecarl. Harold and Cnut, King Svein’s sons, were imposing men who looked more than capable of leading an army into battle. Osbjorn introduced several senior Danish nobles and magnates from Poland, Saxony and Lithuania, all of whom would be taking home significant shares of the bounty from William’s treasury.

  ‘Prince Osbjorn, thank you for seeing us. I am Hereward of Bourne, commander of the forces of Edgar the Atheling, rightful heir to the throne of England. You have met Edwin before, my aide-de-camp. This is Edmund of Kent, my standard-bearer.’