by H A CULLEY
The rest of England was not so fortunate. Thorkell the Tall had raided the south coast in 1009 and had returned to pillage all over East Anglia and Wessex during the following three years. Each time Æthelred paid danegeld to Thorkell to make him go away and each year he returned. Finally in the spring of 1013 the king gave Thorkell and his Danes land and allowed them to settle near London.
Evidently Thorkell had been paying his king, Sweyn Forkbeard, a proportion of the danegeld he’d extracted from Æthelred. Now that this source of income had dried up the King of Denmark decided to invade England himself. However, his aim was not merely to extract a further bribe from the English king. He had gathered a vast host on the promise of granting them land in England. His aim was conquest and he landed at Sandwich in August 1013.
Initially this didn’t affect us in the north. Æthelred had asked me to bring the army of Northumbria south but I was conscious that the Battle of Durham had occurred seven years ago and many in Scotland and Strathclyde who had been boys at that time had grown up and were now young warriors. Malcolm had started to make threatening moves again and so I explained to the king that I needed to stay to defend the north of his kingdom. Perhaps he thought I was dissembling but it was the truth.
Having to prepare for war again came as something of a shock after so many years of peace. My argument with Sige had long since faded into a distant memory. Oh, she still had ambitions for Eadulf, who was now six years old, but Aldred had passed his sixteenth birthday and was held in high regard by my warriors. The ealdormen and thanes had also accepted him as my heir, which pleased me greatly.
She had maintained a frosty silence for a while after my return from Selkirkshire, but she couldn’t keep it up and we quickly returned to our previous intimacy. No children resulted, however, and our relationship wasn’t quite as close as it had been before.
Gradually news filtered north to York. Sweyn had laid siege to London, trapping Æthelred inside. Surprisingly, Thorkell the Tall, who had been made an ealdorman, had proved loyal to Æthelred and was helping him defend London.
The burh had strong stone walls and Sweyn had no siege engines, nor did the Danes have the engineers to construct them. At the end of September he had given up the siege and rampaged his way through Wessex. By the time he’d reached Bath the ealdormen had had enough and Wessex capitulated. Sweyn returned to London and, realising that the odds were stacked against him, Æthelred fled with his family to Normandy. London capitulated and Sweyn sailed up the east coast and into the Humber, before travelling down the River Trent to Gainsborough.
At the beginning of November a delegation of my Danish ealdormen and jarls came to see me. I could tell from their sombre mood that they didn’t bring good news.
‘Lord, you will have heard that Sweyn’s son, Cnut, has received the submission of Mercia?’
My heart sank. I had heard that he had taken Bedford and Oxford but not that the whole of Mercia had submitted to him. That meant that Sweyn and Cnut controlled all of England apart from Northumbria.
‘So it seems that we are alone,’ I replied glumly.
The men before me looked at each other uncomfortably.
‘Earl Uhtred, Sweyn Forkbeard has announced that he is now the King of England and anyone who continues to resist will be branded a traitor; their lives will be forfeit and their families exiled.’
This was worse than I’d supposed. Northumbria would now have difficulty in remaining outside Sweyn’s rule; few of my men would be willing to risk execution and the casting out of their families if I decided to resist. I doubted that I could have raised more than a handful to fight the Danes, and that would serve no useful purpose whatsoever. I might be many things but I was not a fool.
‘There is more, Uhtred.’
This time it was my father-in-law who spoke. He handed me a sealed leather cylinder sealed with a wax impression I didn’t recognise.
‘It’s from King Sweyn himself,’ he muttered, not meeting my eye.
It was written in Danish and although I could speak both Danish and Norse after a fashion, I had trouble reading either language. Nevertheless I managed to gather the gist of what it said.
‘My ealdormen and I are summoned to Gainsborough for Sweyn’s coronation on Christmas Day and to swear fealty to him. He will also make announcements as to the future administration of his kingdom,’ I told them, paraphrasing what I’d read.
I had resigned myself to transferring my loyalty to the Danish king; indeed I could see no other practical alternative. However, I didn’t like the sound of the last part. Was I about to be deprived of my earldom? If so, I would fight after all, I decided.
‘We will travel to Gainsborough together,’ I announced. ‘Each of us will bring five warriors, no more. That will be an appropriate escort without appearing to be threatening. We will meet at Selby three days before Christmas, then cross the Ouse at Howden. That will mean we can arrive at Gainsborough the day before the coronation.’
When they had taken their leave I sat morosely waving away any who approached me. I couldn’t believe that my comfortable little world had been turned on its head in such a short time. What made it even worse was the fact that Thurbrand, Sige’s brother who had sworn to have revenge on me, was now one of Cnut’s closest companions.
~~~
In addition to the fifteen ealdormen of Northumbria, I had invited the bishops and abbots to accompany me. Only Aldhun pleaded sickness and didn’t join us at Selby. Evidently he still hadn’t forgiven me for divorcing Ecgfrida. I don’t suppose it helped that her second husband, Kilvert, had also repudiated her after a while and she had been forced to become a nun after all. No doubt Kilvert had found her as cold in bed as I had.
As we approached the small town of Gainsborough we must have made an imposing sight. With my banner, that of the archbishop and those of the Bishop of Hexham and the fifteen shires flying over our heads, there were nearly a hundred churchmen, nobles and warriors, all mounted, followed by a long baggage train with our servants, tents and provisions strung out behind us.
Most of the forty ealdormen of Wessex, Mercia and East Anglia had already arrived, as had all the various bishops and abbots but Lyfing, Archbishop of Canterbury, was noticeable by his absence. He had only recently been appointed and had yet to receive his pallium from the Pope. That meant he was unable to officiate as archbishop and so that honour fell to Wulfstan of York. It had been something of an own goal by the Danes as they had killed Lyfing’s predecessor, Archbishop Ælfheah, for refusing to cooperate with them.
Gainsborough seemed a strange place for Sweyn to have chosen as his administrative capital. It was one of the main towns of Mercia and had been the capital of the ancient Anglo-Saxon Kingdom of Lindsey for a time, but it was small compared to Winchester, London and York. It was close to Torksey, where the Great Heathen Army had overwintered a century and a half previously, so it may have had some emotional attachment for the Danes.
Sweyn had built a large new hall there for himself and his army of clerks and priests who were to manage his new kingdom. His army was based at Thonock, some two miles north of Gainsborough and only his personal guards, called housecarls, actually lived in Gainsborough.
We were met at the outskirts of the town by one of these housecarls, a large man dressed in chainmail that covered more of his body than a byrnie would have. Whereas a byrnie covered the top of the arms and the torso from collar to half way down the thighs, this man’s coat of iron links included a coif which left only his face exposed and it was longer, covering all of his arms and coming down to the knees. It was split up to the groin so that it wearer could ride a horse. I was impressed by the extra protection it offered but I wondered how much heavier it was.
He wore a segmented helmet with a nasal similar to the ones we wore, rather than the Viking helmets of old. In his hands he carried a double handed battle axe and he had a shield on his back painted yellow with a crude depiction of a blue lion. There was a flag of the
same design flying beside the hall and I later learned that this was the emblem of the kings of Denmark.
‘Who are you?’ he asked in heavily accented English.
‘Earl Uhtred of Northumbria and this is the Archbishop of York,’ I replied in Danish.
He seemed unimpressed.
‘You go camp with others,’ he said, again in his atrocious English.
‘No, tell Sweyn Forkbeard that Uhtred of Northumbria is here with the archbishop who will place the crown upon his head. Without this man,’ I said, indicating Wulfstan, ‘he doesn’t get to become king.’
At last I seemed to be getting through to him.
‘Wait here,’ he said reverting to Danish at last.
He told another two housecarls standing close by to keep any eye on us, though what he thought they were going to do faced with so many armed nobles and warriors I have no idea.
Gainsborough didn’t even have a palisade around it, though there was one around the king’s hall, so it obviously wasn’t a site chosen for its defensive possibilities. I didn’t know how many housecarls there were in total but I suspected not many more than a hundred. If we and the other ealdormen and their warriors camped down by the river had decided to attack they wouldn’t have stood much of a chance.
But that wasn’t likely to happen. I remained surprised how quickly England had capitulated when one considered the mighty struggle that Alfred of Wessex put up to defeat the last Danish invasion. It said much about the poor calibre of Æthelred as a king compared to his renowned ancestor.
‘You and the archbishop may stay in the hall and bring one servant each,’ the housecarl told them when he returned. ‘The rest of you camp over there with the others.’
I looked at Wulfstan. He wasn’t a man to have servants as such. His needs were taken care of by one of the novices each day in York and he certainly hadn’t brought any novices on this journey.
‘I’ll bring my chaplain,’ he said turning to beckon one of the more elderly priests forward.
He and I rode past the scowling housecarl followed by the priest and Uuen whilst Styr and the rest turned and made their way across to a campsite beyond the others beside the Trent. It might be further away but at least it was upstream of whatever filth the other contingents might deposit in the water.
The hall was evidently new; the ceiling hadn’t been darkened by smoke from the fires below that both heated the place and cooked the food, nor did its acrid smell pervade everywhere yet. There were bays down each side which housed tables and benches for eating and drinking and which were used as sleeping platforms at night. The centre of hall housed three separate fire pits with more tables and benches between them.
At the far end there was a raised platform with one long table, more benches and a large chair in the middle – presumably Sweyn’s throne. Behind that there was a wooden partition six foot high with a door behind the chair. That had to be the king’s private chambers. The space was illuminated by a number of candles but the only natural light came from the door when it was open.
It was primitive to my eye; something from an earlier age. My own hall at York was built of stone with windows to let in light and wooden floors covered in rushes which were changed regularly. Here the floor was of beaten earth with everything from discarded animal bones, vomit and dog faeces trodden into it.
A harassed looking man I took to be Sweyn’s steward came forward to ask who we were. When I told him he gestured to the side bays.
‘Grab one of those for yourselves if you can find one without someone else’s kit in it; mind you, you may have to share if this place gets any fuller.’
I was beginning to think that we should have gone with the others. I would have been much more comfortable in my own tent. When I caught sight of Thurbrand talking to another young man further down the hall I sensed trouble brewing. He hadn’t seen me yet and I didn’t want to cause a scene so I told Uuen to go and retrieve our horses.
‘It may be best if I don’t stay here,’ I told Wulfstan, nodding towards Thurbrand.
‘That may be wise. I believe the other man is Cnut.’
I didn’t like slinking out of the hall like a whipped cur but I felt my position was parlous enough without Thurbrand attacking me or calling for my head.
I didn’t see the archbishop or Thurbrand again until the day of the coronation. The ceremony itself was unremarkable and then it came time for each English noble, whether Dane, Angle or Saxon, to kneel before Sweyn Forkbeard and take his hands in theirs and pledge him fealty.
As the only earl present it fell to me to be the first and it was then that I caught Thurbrand looking at me with hate filled eyes as he stood beside Cnut. He made a move towards me but Cnut grabbed his sleeve and held him back, whispering urgently in his ear. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then I saw someone else in the crowd around Cnut and the sight shocked me. It was my brother Eadwulf. Unlike Thurbrand he made no move to attack me; he just stood there with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
I knelt and swore my oath but instead of releasing my hands Sweyn kept hold of them.
‘I know you have a reputation as a fighter and I want you to keep my northern borders safe, but at my son’s request you are to reinstate Eadwulf as your heir. Do you understand?’
‘I do, but my second son is half Dane. Wouldn’t he be a better choice?’
‘And how old is he?’
‘Seven as yet, but I am far from an old man.’
‘None of us can count on living long in these uncertain times, Uhtred. Certainly not for the decade needed for Eadulf to reach maturity. No, Eadwulf is my choice.’
His words chilled me and proved strangely prophetic, but for him, not me.
~~~
After the coronation and the oath taking we stayed in the hall to celebrate mass. It seemed that Sweyn was as devout as people said. Finally he got to his feet to explain his plans for the future governance of England. Certain ealdormen hadn’t been invited to Gainsborough, it seemed. They were to be replaced by Danes. Some of the vills which had belonged to Æthelred, his family and those nobles who had gone with him into exile were confiscated and, whilst Sweyn retained some, he distributed the rest amongst his supporters.
Finally he explained that I wasn’t to be the only earl. Whilst Æthelred had kept Wessex, Kent and Mercia in his own hand, he now created earls to govern these regions, all of whom were, of course, Danes. He also made Thorkell the Tall the Earl of East Anglia, replacing Leofsige who had been killed by Thorkell the previous year. It seemed that the man’s temporary lapse in helping Æthelred to hold London had been forgiven; or perhaps it was just that Thorkell was too powerful to have as an enemy.
After Sweyn had finished we all sat down for the feast. To my surprise I was invited to join the king on the high table with the other newly created earls. I was given the place of honour on Sweyn’s right handside with Cnut next to me. Thorkell sat on the king’s other side.
‘Tell me, Uhtred, is it true you defeated Olaf Tryggvason when you were only fourteen?’ Cnut asked me whilst chewing on a leg of venison.
‘You speak very good English, prince. I played a part in his defeat but the leaders on the day were my father and Malcolm, now King of Scots.’
‘The same Malcolm you annihilated at Durham?’
‘Indeed, although sadly he himself escaped.’
‘You are a man to be watched it seems. I’m told that Northumbria is the largest earldom in England, is that true,’
‘In terms of land area, yes, but it is sparsely populated, especially in the northern half, compared the fertile lands further south.’
‘How many men can you muster then?’
‘We had just over three thousand at Durham, why do you ask?’
‘Malcolm is quiet for now but who knows how long that will last. The Forth is a long way north, I wanted to be certain that you could continue to hold the area without help from elsewhere.’
I didn’t believe that was the whol
e truth. Yes, he might worry about Scotland, but I had a feeling he also wanted to know how strong I was in case I broke my oath of fealty.
We left early the next morning and were lucky enough to reach York whilst the weather was still fine. The day after that a cold wind blew in from the north-east and brought with it the first snow of the winter.
Chapter Seventeen – The Return of Æthelred
Winter 1014
That winter was another fierce one. By the start of January the snow covered the ground to a depth of several inches and there were few travellers about. News was therefore slow to reach us in York. It was milder at the end of the month and the snow melted, making many routes impassable due to flooding.
York had stockpiled food for the winter, of course, but it relied on buying more at the weekly markets. However, they were sparsely attended due to the difficulty in getting wagons through the thick mud which covered the roads and tracks. Those who did make it through didn’t bring in nearly enough.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault, of course, but people had to have someone to blame and Sweyn became very unpopular. I did my best to help by sending my men out with packhorses to buy any surplus supplies that they could find. Naturally the inhabitants of York were grateful but I couldn’t help worrying how the other towns in my earldom were managing.
The weather gradually improved and by the middle of February travel had returned to normal for the time of year. It was then that the news reached us. Sweyn Forkbeard had been killed on the third of February. He had been riding from Gainsborough to his army’s camp at Thonock to see how they were faring when his horse had slipped in the mud and he’d been thrown. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and his head was crushed when it hit a rock.
His death sent shockwaves through Scandinavia as well as England. He had been King of Denmark and Norway as well as England.
‘You’ve heard that Cnut has returned to Denmark with his army to contest the throne which his younger brother Harald has seized. Apparently Sweyn had left him as regent whilst he was away and so it was easy for him to take the crown,’ Wulfstan said as we sat in his private chamber drinking mead and discussing the implications.