Hereward issued orders that all the non-combatants of the burgh be given refuge in the abbey. A third of his defenders would mass behind the ditch and bank at Aldreth, the landing point for the King’s causeway, while the remaining two-thirds would be dispersed around the island to repel any waterborne attacks by William’s butescarls. If any of their positions were overrun, they were to fall back inside the walls of the burgh to make a final stand.
William’s logistical task was much more complicated. Not only had he to synchronize the massed attack along the causeway with the simultaneous amphibious attacks from the Fens, he also had to manage the complex positioning of the catapults and ballisti and coordinate the supply of projectiles for them. Hereward watched for over a week as the Normans manoeuvred themselves into position and William displayed his skills as a master of the art of military planning.
In the second week of October, the bustle of Norman activity had all but ceased and they were poised to attack. Hereward was convinced that hostilities would commence the next morning.
He called the Brotherhood together to address them.
‘Tomorrow we will stand together to face the King. We do so willingly, as free men. We have sent a message to him, to all Normans and to the whole of Europe, saying that we will not be intimidated by an unjust and cruel regime. Most importantly, we have sent a message to our fellow Englishmen — a message that will live in their memories and those of generations to come — that on this October day, in the year 1071 on the Isle of Ely, three thousand Englishmen stood and fought for justice. By our Oath, we stand together for our Brotherhood and for England!’
An immense roar resounded across the Fens, heard by William and every Norman for miles around.
That evening, Hereward’s family gathered. They went over the escape plan several times to ensure that everyone knew it by heart. Hereward then walked to the walls of Ely and looked out over the Fens.
The night was black with menacing clouds, and the wind blew with a piercing chill. There was nothing left to do, other than allow the circumstances he had set in motion months earlier to come to their conclusion. In the protracted game of chess he had been playing with William, he had been put into check for the last time.
William’s demeanour had not softened; the many pleas to him to loosen the vicious grip he had on the neck of England had been to no avail. His cruelty still knew no bounds and there was no hint of compassion in his heart. Nevertheless, Hereward believed it had been worth the struggle. Even if the King remained unmoved, what was happening on the Isle of Ely had lit a powerful beacon to signal that men do have rights and that they are entitled to defend them, even against their sovereign lord. The message of the Talisman of Truth was clear: no evil is so great that it cannot be overcome, not even that of the Devil.
Hereward was about to return to try to get some sleep, when Gunnhild and Estrith appeared.
As usual, they spoke as a duet. ‘We do understand what you are trying to do, Father; it’s just that we don’t want to lose you… We have lost our mother… We don’t want to lose our father as well.’
He knelt down to look them in the eye. ‘One day you will have children of your own and will understand that sometimes things have to be done that are not concerned with the needs of the present, but the well-being of future generations. Everything that has happened here — the Brotherhood, our Oath, and the fight against the King’s cruelty — has a single aim: to make sure that those terrible things that happened in Bourne, to your grandmother and grandfather and all the others, never happen again. Our deeds are also a tribute to your mother’s memory. Torfida shared this burden with me from the very beginning, and her wisdom still guides me in my thoughts and helps me in my moments of doubt.’
‘We know, Father.’ They held him tightly.
After a while, he carried them back to their tent and put them to bed. As they kissed him goodnight, he could see the anxiety in their eyes; if ever there was a moment to abandon his cause, this was it.
Just then, in unison, they smiled at him. ‘We love you.’
‘I love you too.’
They closed their eyes and he bent down to kiss them. With tears rolling down his cheeks, he sat with them until long after they had fallen asleep.
It was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do.
30. Denouement
Everyone was in position long before dawn — defenders and attackers alike. Edmund proudly unfurled Hereward’s standard, the Great Axe of Goteborg, and those who had fought with him in the North flew his gold, crimson and black pennons.
Hereward checked his astrolabe; the date was 14 October 1071, five years to the day from the momentous events of Senlac Ridge.
Earl Morcar was in command to the north, Siward Bjorn to the west, Thorkill of Harringworth to the east, while Hereward took charge of the all-important southern defences at Aldreth. Everything was ready, all preparations made, every detail attended to.
Now it was time to fight.
The sky was threatening and the wind howling, drowning any sounds except, carried from afar, the snorting and stomping of the Norman destriers. Hereward grasped the Talisman just as William gave the signal to attack.
This time, the causeway held as a relentless stream of Norman cavalry hurtled towards Aldreth. The defenders launched a fusillade of arrows and javelins, inflicting heavy casualties on the front ranks of the Norman squadrons. When the cavalry reached the end of the causeway, they were able to fan out across the shallow water. Some became trapped in the cloying mud, lost to a lingering death, but most got a firm footing and started to assail the Brotherhood’s bank and ditch. The defenders at the top adopted the tactics of the shield wall of the English army, placing their shields on the parapet and using their spears above and swords between. A cacophony of yells and screams, clanging armour and straining horses filled the air.
Initially, the bank held, with many Normans floundering in the ditch, but eventually the number of squadrons pouring across the causeway became overwhelming. Following in their wake were massed ranks of infantry, with waterborne assaults and aerial bombardments around Ely’s entire perimeter. Hereward, realizing that Ely’s outer defences would soon be breached, ordered a general retreat to the burgh’s walls. To cover the withdrawal, he led a counter-attack, using his hearthtroop in a mounted charge against the advancing Norman cavalry.
Hereward’s charge led to a ferocious clash of mounted warriors, which lasted for over two hours and cost him many men, some of whom had been with him from the beginning. They had been in the charge against the Norwegians at Stamford Bridge, had stood their ground on Senlac Ridge and then fought against William in the campaigns in the North. He watched as they fell all around him — England’s finest, the bravest of men, almost the last of Harold’s legendary housecarls.
Eventually, when all the defenders were within reach of the walls of Ely, Hereward ordered the withdrawal of his cavalry. Of the 600 men who had charged into the Norman destriers, only 200 galloped back to Ely. When the last man had ridden through the gates, they were closed behind him.
Morcar, Bjorn and Harringworth had also withdrawn and positioned their men inside the walls. They too had taken heavy casualties. In all, the Brotherhood had lost more than a third of its men.
Hereward looked around. Einar was close to him and unharmed; Martin had been slashed across the arm by a sword, but his wound was superficial; Alphonso had a deep gouge on his forehead and was covered in blood, but nodded at Hereward to say that he could still fight; Edmund of Kent and Edwin were where they always were, right behind their leader.
Hereward quickly dismounted and climbed to the shooting platform behind Ely’s wooden ramparts. He looked at the encroaching horde of Norman infantry battalions, the menacing catapults and ballisti being wheeled along Aldreth causeway and the swarm of butescarls coming ashore from boats on the Great Fen. Their cavalry was regrouping in neat lines and he could see scaling ladders being carried by sappers for the final assault on Ely’s walls. Then, in the distance approaching the causeway, he saw William at the head of his Matilda Squadron.
He hurried down to his loyal companions. ‘We must put the escape plan into operation. If we wait any longer, the family will not get out alive; the noose is tightening. Martin, Einar, Alphonso, you must go.’
