Friday, 14 October 2016

The Battle of Hastings: The End of Days

Then Duke William sailed from Normandy into Pevensey, on the eve of Michaelmas. As soon as his men were fit for service, they constructed a castle at Hastings. When King Harold was informed of this, he gathered together a great host, and came to oppose him at the grey apple-tree, and William came upon him unexpectedly before his army was set in order. Nevertheless the King fought against him most resolutely with those men who wished to stand by him, and there was a great slaughter on both sides. King Harold was slain, and Leofwine, his brother, and Earl Gurth, his brother, and many good men. The French had possession of the place of slaughter, as God granted them because of the nation's sins.

950 years ago today, a period of history came to an end. It did so on a ridge-line in the Sussex countryside. The historical epoch shifted at dusk, although the struggle to end it had been going on since 9am. On this day, October 14th 1066, Anglo-Saxon England died on the battlefield of Senlac Hill. It would be known in the future as the Battle of Hastings.

The Battle of Hastings was a clash between two completely different worlds. Standing on the ridge that autumn morning, blocking the road to London, was the old world. The Anglo-Saxons represented a link to the end of the Roman Empire, with the barbarian migrations stemming from the vacuum left by the absence of Imperial power in the West. Their culture stretched back into the mists and forests of Northern Europe, a world inhabited by Beowulf, Woden and Thor. Upon settling in the British Isles, the Anglo-Saxons had soon adopted Christianity, and this blend of cultures had produced one of the intellectual and cultural powerhouses of the early medieval period.

Their recent past had been shaped by the Vikings. The Viking onslaught against the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms in the 800s had transformed the map of the British Isles forever. Before, there had been four Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, with power finely balanced between them. But in the middle of the ninth century, the Vikings had destroyed the kingdoms of East Anglia and Northumbria, and reduced Mercia to a shadow of its former glory. Only Wessex survived, with Alfred the Great coming back from seemingly certain catastrophe to overcome the Norsemen. Under his descendants, the West Saxons expanded their power into the rest of the British Isles, until by the middle of the 900s, a powerful, centralised, and fairly unified state had been created in the lowlands of Britain. It was originally called the kingdom of the Anglo-Saxons, but by 1066 it was widely known as the kingdom of the English.

Their new king, Harold II, was not of the ancient line of Cerdic of Wessex. Instead, he had been elected by the Witan, the council that advised and chose the king, to take control of the country after the old king, Edward the Confessor, had died childless. Harold and his men had just won a stunning victory at Stamford Bridge. They had crushed the invading forces of Harald Hardraada of Norway; although they did not know it at the time, but this marked the end of the Viking threat to England. Now they were facing yet another foe.

Strangely, though, this foe at the bottom of the hill, the Normans, had recently been a part of this world too. Their forefathers had also been Vikings, who had settled in Normandy a century or so earlier. But now they were ingrained into the domestic squabbles of the French monarchy. The Duke of Normandy had emerged as one of the leading French noblemen, wielding more power than the king of France. Quite impressive, given that William the Bastard had become Duke at the age of 7 or 8, and had been forced to claw back his control over the Duchy. He had expanded his power and influence. With Edward the Confessor dying, William pushed his distant claim to the English throne. An unruly band of French knights and lords had been assembled, and promised land and power if they participated in William's great English enterprise.

For much of that day in October 1066, it looked as if William's throw of the dice had failed. His early cavalry charges failed to penetrate the Anglo-Saxon shield wall. False retreats by the Normans did thin the English forces somewhat, as the knights cut down those Anglo-Saxons foolish enough to chase their foes. But it was not enough. All the Saxons had to do was hold firm until night. After that, they could bring up fresh forces and supplies. William, on the other hand, was trapped in a foreign country, with no easy means of supply or retreat, and dubious allies.

And then late in the day, it all went wrong for the Anglo-Saxons. Their warrior king, Harold, was slain. In the popular imagination, he took an arrow to the eye. Other sources say he was hacked to pieces. We simply don't know. But without him, the English army began to collapse. The slaughter was terrible. The Anglo-Saxon nobility, with many of them holding positions and titles that were centuries old, was destroyed on Senlac Hill. The rest of the army fled, or was killed.

William initially refused the English permission to bury their dead; the bodies rotted on the field where they had fallen. In a way, it was a metaphor for what was unfolding. Great change was on the way, as the Norman Conquest used the strong, centralised state to launch a revolution in England. The Normans were the masters now. The new world was displacing the old. At Hastings, nine and a half centuries ago today, Anglo-Saxon England had come to a sudden, bloody, and tragic end.

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