Conquest

William had stood down his army and returned to Winchester, confident that the English rebellion was over. His only minor concerns were that the Danes had not yet left Humberside and that Hereward had disappeared from view. The Danish garrison had suffered badly over the harsh winter and William had not kept his word to keep them well supplied. However, he had sent the second instalment of their Danegeld and, assuming that they would not relish another winter far from home, William felt the continuing Danish presence did not warrant a further expedition to the North.

When the first flurries of snow appeared over the downs of southern England in the autumn of 1070, and the Danes had still not departed, William grew more concerned. News then arrived at Winchester that the charred remains of Ogier the Breton and his men had been found in the ruins of the longhouse at Bourne. He knew at once who was responsible and, as usual, his rage was unbounded.

The first sharp bite of winter had also prodded Hereward into action. The period of calm he had deliberately created after the events of Bourne had given him time to clear his head. Now it was time for one final clarion call. When he arrived at the agreed rendezvous on the Great Ouse in October, to his great joy almost three-quarters of his men had returned. They knew that the last few moves of Hereward’s game of chess with William were about to be made, and they had resigned themselves to whatever ending those moves would create.

Hereward now gathered together the 200 valiant souls who still followed him and asked them to sit on the ground in a relaxed, informal group; this was going to be a different kind of address.

‘Men of England, let me speak to you of things we all know to be true, but are reluctant to accept. We fought and lost in the North; we were too few in number and outmanoeuvred by a formidable opponent.’ He paused and looked around at the faces of those assembled. He was grateful to them for still being at his side after all the setbacks they had suffered and he admired their great courage when so many others had slunk away. ‘It is four years since Senlac Ridge. William has won this land.’

His men began to shake their heads and mutter.

‘It is true; an unbearable truth, but true all the same. He is relentless, vicious and cunning and a master of tactics and planning. He is also lucky; fortune has favoured him all along, especially on Senlac Ridge. The gods have smiled on the Normans: they were blessed in the Channel, when the wind didn’t blow; they were fortunate that we had to fight at Stamford Bridge before facing their onslaught; and they were lucky on the day of the battle, when the outcome could so easily have been different. To have to face Hardrada and the Norwegians in the North and then William and the Normans in the South, all within the space of a few days, was a cruel hand that fate dealt our noble King Harold. In his case, fortune didn’t favour the brave.’ He hesitated, reluctant to utter the words. ‘Now, his England, our England, has gone. It has gone for ever.’

The men shifted uncomfortably in the face of this barrage of unpalatable truths, but all knew in their hearts that Hereward was right.

‘It took many generations of war, struggle and negotiation to fuse England into a whole from its many parts. Now there must be a new England.’ He paused again, catching as many eyes as he could, trying to gauge whether these men would accept a new vision of their homeland. ‘We can make it happen. By your presence here, you are saying that you are not prepared to accept that England has become a province of Normandy, nor that we English have to think and act like Normans. I have a proposition for you. We will make a final redoubt, as we did on Senlac Ridge; one last stand to remind the world that England will not die easily. We will convince William that he has to recognize our collective will, just as we have had to bend to his. We will make the Normans realize that to rule here, they will have to acknowledge our ways, as we have to recognize theirs.’

Hereward paused again, relieved to see a brightening in the eyes of his men as he offered them new hope.

He started to raise his voice. ‘England will never die; it will live on in our customs, our language and our traditions. For now, we are conquered, but we will stand up to these Normans, make them appreciate us. And when they respect us, England will be England once more.’

The entire assembly rose as one; this time, not with a massive roar of approval, but more solemnly, like men preparing to stand together in battle.

‘From this moment, we will no longer call him William the Bastard; we will refer to him as William, King of England.’

There were many shouts of ‘No!’ from the men.