Wolves in Armour nc-1

by Iain Campbell

  “Well, technically all three are English,” replied Alan.

  “Technically, my foot! Two are French and you’ve pointed out the abuse that Normans all over the south of England are engaging in. You intend to follow this through?” demanded the Queen.

  “With a formal complaint to the Curia Regis when the king returns, if necessary,” replied Alan. “But I doubt that will be necessary. I expect the complaints will be resolved as ‘administrative errors’ by junior officials within the next few weeks and one or two minions may be punished as examples. If it means that these three officials, and those in the other shires, take their duties more seriously and are less outrageous in their abuses, I’ll have achieved what I set out to do. I may be unpopular with the Normans, but I doubt that anything will come of it. I certainly don’t expect any thanks from King William.”

  After a pause the Queen said, “I envy you your love match. It’s something that few achieve, especially nobles- and you are now of the nobility. In Edward’s time you would have been called a King’s Thegn. My own marriage was a loveless thing. Edward married me when I was 16 and Edward was 42. The Witengemot insisted that the king marry and produce an heir and deemed me, the daughter of Godwin, the strongest and best of the earls, as most suitable.

  “The English, or at least the people of Wessex, wanted and still want a king who can claim descent from the great King Alfred. All his descents were killed or went into exile when Cnut became king. Edward was the son of Ethelred and went into exile in Normandy. His brother Alfred returned to England in 1036 after the death of Cnut, but was blinded and soon died. That is a deed oft ascribed to my father, but it was done by others at the behest of the sons of Cnut.

  “My father arranged the return of Edward in ’41 and when Harthacanute died Edward was crowned. That was two years before our marriage. Edward was a quiet, pious and kindly man, but quite erratic- with no liking for war and little aptitude for administration. After 25 years of exile in Normandy he was at least half-Norman and had many Norman ways and friends, which didn’t endear him to my father or the people. He had little interest in ruling and effectively my father ran the country, except for the year when he was forced into exile and Edward sent me to the abbey of Wherwell. Godwin returned a year later and died soon after in ’53, when Harold took over the administration of the kingdom.

  “Duke William visited in ’51 when t duke was 23 years of age, while my family was in exile. The line of Alfred was weak and the few princes had died young with no children, except another Edward, a son of Edmund Ironside. He was sent into exile and had a son Edgar, the current Aetheling. When it became obvious there would be no heir from my union with Edward, the Witengemot searched and found Edward, known as ‘The Exile’ and persuaded him to return to England from Hungary- and I understand it took some considerable persuasion as he saw himself as Hungarian. Like most of his line he died young, leaving Edgar the sole remaining prince of the line of Alfred. Edward took the boy in and treated him as his natural heir. However, Edward was very quick with his promises of who he intended should succeed him, giving them to all and sundry.

  “The current situation is the fault of my late husband’s refusal to bed me and produce heirs, because of his hatred of my father. I was willing enough, out of duty not love, but he preferred celibacy to security of the realm. Had we had a son soon after we were married, he would now be 22 or so and would have been elected last year as king instead of Harold. Harold was not of the royal blood and would not have been chosen had there been any other realistic choice- the Aetheling was just 13. Indeed the Norman invasion would not have occurred as the alleged promise of kingship would never have been made. Edward was weak, lax and easily manipulated, more concerned about the state of his soul than the state of his kingdom.

  “There are only four noble families in England. The houses of Wessex, Bamburgh, Leofric and Siward. With Harold dead, Gyrth would have made a good king and been able to organise a defence of the realm, but he also fell at Hastings. Edgar and Morcar are little more than children, with no experience. Waltheof is the same.

  “It’s been a bitter year for my mother Gytha and myself. We’ve seen four of the five sons of Godwin die within a year; Tostig betrayed his people and fought for the Norwegians against his brothers and was killed at Stamford Bridge; Harold, Gyrth and Leofwine were killed at Hastings. Only Wulfnoth remains, and he’s been a captive of William’s since Edward delivered him up to William fifteen years ago.

  “So that is why, after my brothers died, I supported William, and still do so. Whatever the cost that may be suffered by my people, it’s less than would be the cost of opposing him- should the Aetheling’s party ever have the guts to recommend a single course of action and stop thinking of their own advantage. England is in a state of paralysis. It is as powerless to defend itself against William and his Normans as a flock of sheep against a pack of wolves. We must survive and salvage what we can.

  “One change I’m glad was made was Esgar the Staller, who was until recently the sheriff of Middlesex. He’s a slippery snake of a man. He fought against William at Hastings, then returned to London and organised its temporary defiance against William, but then turned up with the others at Berkhampstead to make his submission, apparently expecting to be able to retain his position. William has retained quite a few of the officeholders under Edward and Harold, but whoever advised him on this point did well. Esgar was both corrupt and untrustworthy.

  “As for me, I have had enough of these troubled times and I’ll soon retire to the nunnery at Wilton, where my friend Godgifu is the abbess. I retain, and will retain, the lands that were my dower for my marriage. How I will leave them in my Will I do not yet know. I’ll tell my thegn at Wix, Adamnan, to follow your lead in all things in Tendring Hundred.”

  Alan was thoughtful about how personalities and the effects of history influence the present.

  After a moment Swanhild asked Alan, “What kind of man is William? I hear that you have met him and had dealings with him.”

  After a moment’s pause Alan replied, “He’s hard- as hard as iron and quite ruthless. Meticulous; he plans and considers everything in detail. Autocratic and unable to accept any criticism or lack of loyalty once sworn. His will is law. Suspicious- remember his past. There were many attempts to murder him as a child and his guardians had to keep moving him to ensure his safety. One was killed in William’s own chamber as he sought to protect him.

  “From the age of 19 he’s dealt with rebellion within Normandy and invasion by France, both of which he overcame. His father Robert died when William was seven. He was a bastard son and that is something about which, while he acknowledges, he is sensitive of and will not allow others to mention in a derisory manner. Not because he is ashamed of that fact, but because he sees such comments as showing contempt for his current position and what he has achieved. He has great pride in what he has achieved, both in Normandy and England, and rightly so. He’s a superb general and a good administrator. He’s very intelligent. Although not well-lettered, he can read and write both Latin and Norman French, but is no scholar. He’ll listen to advice before he makes a decision, but not afterwards.

  “He’s personally pious and I believe he intends to keep the oaths he swore at his coronation- if the English keep their oaths. He rules with an iron hand, rewards loyalty even when those receiving the rewards may not be worthy. That means that much of the land has, and will be, parcelled out and given to his friends and supporters.

  “As I’m amongst friends tonight, I can instance his half-brother Odo of Bayeux who was appointed as a bishop at the age of 14. That’s not usually an age by which you can have shown sufficient devotion to God and sufficient learning to be elevated to such office. Another is Geoffrey Bishop of Coutances. Both are more used to leading troops into battle than leading a religious service. Odo is using his position as co-regent in William’s absence to enrich himself.

  “William punishes disloyalty severely. He’s
a complex man, but one who possesses the three most important characteristics of a king. Strength; intelligence; heirs. He has three sons.”

  Edith nodded her agreement of this assessment.

  “Perhaps the ending of the war of the Angevin succession and being confronted by Fulk, the new Count of Anjou, will give William something else to occupy his time. I believe that Fulk intends to contest William’s claim and power in Maine,” commented Eadnoth. “How would William react to an uprising amongst the English?” he continued.

  “I believe that Edward had a deathbed dream that a year and a day after his death devils would come through the land with fire and sword and war?” said Alan. Queen Edith nodded. “Many see that as already happening, with the Normans being the devils. If there was a revolt, or serious opposition to William, that dream will come true and the devils of war will lay waste any part of England that opposes William’s will. I pray to God that the Aetheling’s party do nothing stupid and maintain their sworn loyalty, or there will be a blood-bath like nothing England has seen before.”

  On that sombre note Queen Edith rose and announced that the highlight of the evening, a recitation of the saga of ‘The Battle of Maldon’ as a remembrance of the days of English greatness, would now be given.

  An old bard, well dressed and with long white hair, moustache and beard entered accompanied by a younger man carrying a harp. The guests took seats around the room and, with a strum of the harp, the old man began the story, reciting from memory.

  Byrhtnoth was an ealdorman of Essex who in 991 intercepted a Viking raiding force led by Olaf Tryggvason just outside Maldon. The Vikings had landed on an island which at ebb tide was joined to the mainland only by a narrow land bridge of sand and mud. The bard described Byrhtnoth’s great height, his strength despite his age of nearly sixty. Byrhtnoth’s forces were outnumbered and the levy comprised mainly of farmers, with the bard describing how Byrhtnoth had to teach them to hold weapons and stand in line of battle.

  The hero’s speeches of patriotism and honour were quoted at length. The might of the Viking raiding force at over 2,000, and their prowess as warriors, were also recited at length. The Viking Olaf addressed the Saxons, promising to sail away if he was paid with gold and armour from the lord. Byrhtnoth eloquently refused. As Olaf’s men could not force their way across the narrow land-bridge guarded by the Saxons he sent word asking Byrhtnoth to allow his warriors onto the shore. Byrhtnoth, out of pride or recklessness, agreed. The subsequent battle was described virtually blow by blow, with the Vikings overwhelming the Saxons and Byrhtnoth himself being killed, apparently cut down while being attacked by three Vikings at once. The saga drew to a close with a flourish of patriotic bravery and self-sacrifice.

  There was great applause and a crowd gathered around the bard to express their appreciation. Alan and Anne rose from their seats and were standing quite close to Queen Edith and Eadnoth. “I noticed that you were squirming around and being uncomfortable during the recitation,” commented Anne.

  At that moment Regenbald’s son Cynebeald and another Englishman of about Alan’s own age, who had previously been introduced to Alan as being named Wigstan came up. Wigstan clapped Alan on the shoulder and asked, “What did you think of that performance?”

  Alan paused for a moment’s reflection before saying, “As a theatrical performance, I must say that the bard is a master of his craft. He told the story for over an hour without a pause other than to sip ale, which he also built into the presentation. As I mentioned before to Queen Edith, I’m personally not overly fond of the alliterative style. I find the emphasis in each part of each line distracting from the story, and the use of metaphors or kennings for the sake of maintaining form a sign of poor composition. My preference is for the classical style of the Greeks and Romans.

  “If your reference was to the content of the ballad, I would have to say that this is one of very few heroic English poems or sagas. What I say next will probably be offensive to you, but is the truth.” Alan was aware that Queen Edith and her small group of hangers-on had turned to listen to the conversation. “Most of the sagas recited here in England are of Norse origin. ‘Beowulf’; ‘The Fight at Finnburgh’; several others.

  “The Battle of Maldon is an interesting story and one of the few English sagas. But it is a story of a lost battle. Byrhtnoth threw away his one advantage that could keep his village or town secure. His duty was to protect Maldon. When he lost, although not mentioned in the saga, the town would have been pillaged and burned. The old and the young children would have been slaughtered. The women raped and ravished, and together the surviving young men and women would have been carried away to slavery in Norway.

  “A battle won is a terrible thing. I have experience of that. I imagine that a battle lost would be many times worse, not least because of the effect on the local people. Again, at the risk of offending you, there are no English sagas of victories won, because you always lose. In the last 200 years, excluding the Danish kings, I could count on the fingers of one hand those Saxon kings who understood war and who could adequately protect your lands. In fact since Alfred the Great I could probably only mention Edmund Ironside, who died young after only eight months as king, and Harold Godwinson, who was king for a similar period, who had any idea how to defend the country. Instead you choose to buy off the invaders, which worked sometimes, but at what cost?”

  Queen Edith interjected quietly but forcefully, “The last year it was paid, in ’51, the Danegeld cost?82,500.”

  Alan nodded and continued. “?82,500 a year. That is an amount that is simply beyond comprehension. It would have paid for a lot of soldiers and ships- an army and a navy that could defend England. The fact is that you English have chosen not to defend yourselves. It was easier to pay the enemy off. That was not the attitude of Byrhtnoth, who preferred to fight to the death. Other lands have chosen to become military in their economy and outlook. England has chosen not to do so, and that is why, over the last few hundred years, those countries that see being a warrior as an honourable occupation and who are prepared to move and expand have seen England as a ‘soft’ target- because you lack the will to defend yourselves.

  “Vikings, Danes and now Normans have invaded and taken over your country. If and when you take defence seriously and are prepared to accept new methods of warfare instead of those that are 200 years out of date, you may be able to adequately defend yourselves. Individually your warriors are as brave and capable as any in the world. What they lack is discipline, training and leadership. Vikings, now Norwegians, Danes and Normans see warfare as a way of life, something to be embraced and encouraged. You English react to this, but invariably lose because your army is a levy that does not know how to fight. I’m addressing that problem in Tendring Hundred. England cannot survive unless that approach is adopted generally, although I am sure that the Norman lords have no intention of training their English minions in war as they will be afraid that this will be used against them.”

  There was the sound of slow applause from one person, Queen Edith. “I wondered if I was being too subtle having Aelfric recite The Battle of Maldon, intending to have people draw a connection with the battles of last year, except that Harold wasn’t as stupid as Byrhtnoth and gave away no advantages. There are a number of men here who are, or have been, professional warriors. The only person here who seems to have heard my intended message is a foreigner who fought on the other side. All the rest of you were carried away unthinkingly by the patriotism and heroism of the story. The real story is that you only fight a battle you can win and there is no heroism in losing or death. Ask Edith Swan-Neck what the battlefield of Hastings looked like the next day, and how her lover was so disfigured by his wounds that she could only recognise him by a tattoo. Could Harold have won at Hastings?” she asked Alan.

  “Definitely! The outcome was in doubt right until Harold fell. Until that moment the English could have won,” replied Alan. “Even then, had Leofwine or Gyrth still been ali
ve to command the army, they could have either won or forced a draw and continued the fight- which with more English warriors arriving was all that the English had to do. William had to win, and win that day, or the invasion was lost. Even after Harold fell the Royal Huscarles, the thegns and their huscarles fought on… and on… and on. They had to be killed to the last man. The killing was still going on when it was fully dark. We Normans could not believe their braveness or stubbornness,” replied Alan.

  “Better to be dead than run and disgraced. They also fought to the last at Maldon. And Harold had told them to stand and fight,” said Regenbald.

  “Their braveness, stubbornness… and their stupidity,” replied Edith. “That is precisely my point and the point I sought to make in tonight’s saga. It’s because of that pride 2,000 manor halls have lost their thegns, men who could have lived and continue to lead the English, who will now be ruled by Normans. Any chance of effective English resistance died with them. By their pride they failed their villages and their country. Had those professional warriors survived along with just one of our generals we could have continued to resist. Instead England chose suicide that evening,” said Queen Edith harshly.

  “Now, if you ladies and gentlemen will excuse me, I think that it’s time to retire,” she continued. “There will be an escort of guards to accompany you to Ludgate and I have arranged with the captain of the guard to have the gate opened to admit those of you who are residing in the city. Unless you wish to spend the night here, I suggest you make ready to leave shortly.” With a regal nod Queen Edith strode from the chamber.

  The following morning Alan and Anne examined the list of properties that Malachi had as promised sent around to them, a dozen in all. Being a Sunday, the 22nd of July, there was little else to do after attending Mass at the nearby St Peter’s Church and they wandered around the city looking at each house from the street.