the Chapter House.
As he left, she turned to Harold. ‘My Lord Godwinson, your cause is lost. The King will not be swayed.’
Later that day, when Harold joined Edith and Torfida at Ludgate Hill, he expressed his bitter disappointment that William remained the King’s nominated successor.
‘Well, that’s an end to it. I’ll tell the King that I am returning to Glastonbury to be with my men. He won’t like it, but he will have little choice in the matter. We will join Hereward at Glastonbury. There is much to be done.
‘Edith, you should not stay in London. Close the house, pack anything of value and bring your household with you. We may be gone for some time.’
Two days later, the Earl of Wessex, with a large contingent behind him, was heading west. When they arrived in Glastonbury, the burgh and the surrounding countryside resembled an armed camp. Hereward and Earl Gyrth had almost a thousand men in readiness, new weapons were being forged, armour was being made, supply carts were being loaded and the oxen to pull them were grazing in the fields nearby.
Harold called an assembly of his thegns in the Great Hall of Glastonbury. He proclaimed an end to their hope of the King accepting Edgar the Atheling as his successor, or of him revoking his nomination of the Duke of Normandy as the next king. Everyone, to a man, said that they would reject William as successor and accepted Harold’s view that unless William brought an army of unheralded size and materiel, it was unlikely that he could secure the throne by force of arms.
The Earl of Wessex was an imposing figure as he stood before the assembled throng of warriors. He was candid about the personal dilemma he would face upon the King’s death, but asked them to believe that he was not engaged in a devious plot to claim the throne for himself. However, he was firm in saying that circumstances were conspiring to put England in great danger,
‘Whatever perils come our way, I will face them. With you at my side, you noble men of England, we will repel any invader, whether he is Scandinavian or Norman — and even if both hordes fall upon us at once!’
A huge roar rose into the roof of the hall, a cry that turned to a thunderous echo as the warriors thumped their shields with their battle-axes and swords.
Later that day, Hereward offered Harold his assessment of the qualities of England’s fighting men. The general level of discipline and fighting skills, both among the levies of the Fyrd and among the housecarls, was on a par with any he had seen, including Byzantines, Saracens and even Scandinavians and Normans. However, there was one area where the Saxon housecarl was beyond comparison. Their close-quarters, highly coordinated battle techniques, especially their shield wall, were without equal. Hereward’s only area of concern was the cavalry. The Saxons were adept horsemen, but they eschewed the use of horses in major set-piece battles. On the other hand, Normandy’s cavalry with its heavy destriers was the Norman equivalent of the Saxon shield wall: it was their greatest asset.
Hereward put it very plainly for Harold. ‘If it comes to a major battle against the Normans, it will be the Saxon shield wall against the Norman destrier.’
Harold thought about Hereward’s report for a while. ‘What of their bowmen? They have both longbow and crossbow.’
‘It is an added advantage for them, and one that we need to combat. While I was in the service of the Duke, I saw some of the finest bowmen in Europe; they could be dangerous for us.’
During the searingly hot summer of 1065 Harold drove his housecarls hard. The messages coming from London told of a King who was becoming more and more irascible and who suffered from frequent ‘maladies’, where he would temporarily lose consciousness. His speech had become slurred and his balance unsure.
Despite the tension created by the unfolding of great events, time passed slowly.
Harold completed the summer of training with his men, but in early September had to stand down the greater part of his army so that they could return to their homes to gather the harvest.
Then, in October of 1065, just when it needed to be stable, England was thrown into turmoil, and by Harold’s own brother, Tostig.
The King had made Tostig Earl of Northumbria in 1055, in acknowledgement of the growing influence of the sons of Earl Godwin. However, Northumbria had been the domain of the Bamburgh family for many generations and Tostig’s arrival was not welcome; nor did his punitive rule and high taxes endear him to his vassals.
After ten years of resentment, the Northumbrian thegns eventually rose in revolt against Tostig’s rule and called a gemot at York. There, after pledging their loyalty to King Edward, they repudiated Tostig’s rule and declared him an outlaw. Mayhem ensued. Tostig’s hearthtroop were slaughtered and his treasury plundered until it was bare. The rebels chose a Mercian, Morcar, as their new earl. Anyone within Northumbria loyal to Tostig was ruthlessly purged before the rebels moved south, with Morcar and his followers marauding across the English heartland. Lincoln, Nottingham, and Derby were sacked and the rebellion descended into a rampage of murder, rape and looting. When they arrived at Northampton, they joined a large force of allies led by Morcar’s brother, Edwin, Earl of Mercia; hundreds were killed, the burgh was destroyed, the crops in store for the winter were burned and the livestock stolen.
The King sent the rebels a royal command to lay down their weapons and submit their grievances to a Witan of the whole of England. Their response was defiant: they would agree only if the King confirmed the banishment of Tostig and recognized Morcar as Earl of Northumbria.
England was on the brink of civil war.
Edward chose to ignore the ultimatum and called a Witan to meet at Oxford on 28 October 1065. Harold travelled to Oxford without Hereward or Torfida. The issue of the succession was, as things stood, an irrelevance. If a successful outcome was not reached at the Witan, there would not be much of a kingdom left to rule. Edward’s authority was ebbing away as quickly as his life, and he knew he could only bring the rebels to heel with Harold at the head of the army.
But Harold needed to keep his soldiers away from the battlefield until it was time to repulse England’s external enemies. He knew that civil war would deal a mortal blow to English defences, especially if the King were to die in the middle of it.
The King was in a rage throughout the Witan because none of the earls would support any attempt to crush the rebels by force without Harold’s leadership and his housecarls. Tostig was in a similar rage because he had been usurped and neither the King nor his Godwin clan had rushed to his aid. Tostig was so forceful in the Witan in accusing Harold of plotting against him that Harold eventually took an oath in front of the entire nobility of England, swearing that he had played no part in the rebellion.
Tostig’s cause was lost and Morcar was confirmed as Earl of Northumbria. Tostig, with his wife, Judith, retreated to Bruges to seek refuge with her father, Count Baldwin of Flanders. Edward was so angry at the outcome that he suffered another succession of ‘maladies’ and was rushed back to London.
Harold returned to Glastonbury, relieved that the crisis had been averted and that civil war had been avoided, but concerned that England’s almost insurmountable problems were now compounded by internal rivalries. In alienating Tostig, England had created yet another enemy — one of its own sons and one of Harold’s own kin.
Harold’s mind raced as he rode across Salisbury Plain, pondering one potential outcome after another. He made camp at the Great Henge of stones at Amesbury, a place he often visited when he needed to think. Many people feared the Great Henge, particularly at night. There were many legends about the ancient peoples who had built the giant stone circles, especially the rituals of the Celtic Druids, whose influence was still strong in many parts of the country. However, for Harold it was a place of eternal peace and serenity.
Tostig’s father-in-law, Baldwin, was one of the most powerful men in Europe and an ally of the Duke of Normandy. Was it possible that Tostig, bitter and angry, could throw in his lot with Duke William and support his succession in return for being reinstalled as Earl of Northumbria, or even as Earl Marshal?
Every new thought made Harold more and more anxious. He broke camp before dawn the next morning and kicked hard into the Blackmore Vale, in the bosom of his beloved Wessex, and on to Glastonbury.
Harold recalled the army in early November of 1065, but heavy snows later in the month made it difficult for the housecarls to train. With over 3,000 men in camp, Harold’s coffers were depleting rapidly. Reluctantly, as November became December, he issued the order that all but his hearthtroop were to return home; at least during the dark days of winter, there was little chance of rebellion or invasion.
Braving one of the coldest winters in living memory, the great and good of the land travelled to London for the celebration of Christmastide 1065 in the new abbey church of Westminster. The entire English nobility, both secular and clerical, was summoned, and Harold and Edith decided to open Edith’s house at Ludgate Hill for the
