Conquest

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Morcar, Bjorn and Harringworth had also withdrawn and positioned their men inside the walls.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.’

Each of them refused.

‘This is madness. We have to get the women and children off the island.’

In exasperation, Hereward gave Einar a direct order to lead Alphonso, Martin and the family off the island. ‘Do it. Do it now!’

The big Northumbrian nodded reluctantly and pulled Martin and Alphonso away. Hereward pushed Edwin towards them, and Einar included him in his corral. When Hereward tried to do the same with Edmund, he shook his head in defiance.

In a parting gesture, the four men turned to Hereward and placed a clenched fist over their heart, the salute of the Brotherhood.

Hereward’s defensive strategy had been well rehearsed and, after little more than an hour, the civilians were safely inside the abbey precincts and Ely’s walls were well manned.

Hereward quickly gathered his senior command together to agree on the positions each would take, before returning to the ramparts, where he had left Edmund holding the gold, crimson and black of his standard. However, as he approached, he noticed not just one figure standing beneath his colours, but four.

They all stood erect and motionless, silhouetted against the sky like sentinels.

Hereward stopped for a second, thinking he must be mistaken, but there, standing beside Edmund, were Einar, Martin and Alphonso.

‘What’s happened, where are the girls?’

Einar answered for all of them. ‘They all got away safely. Edwin has been put in charge and Gohor is a fine soldier. They will take care of them.’

‘But what about when they get to France?’

Martin then answered. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve got every intention of fighting my way out of here and joining them at St Cirq Lapopie.’ He moved towards Hereward. ‘The girls knew we had to stay. We’ve been through too much together to miss this fight. When I’m old and I’m telling the famous story of Hereward Great Axe, I can’t say that, when it came to the final battle, his three loyal companions went home!’

Alphonso made a similar point. ‘In Spain, we sing songs about heroes, but not about men who go home before the last battle!’

‘Are you all sure? This is a battle where the odds suggest our only victory will be a moral one.’

Einar responded. ‘With the three of us behind you, the odds are better than you think.’

There were embraces all round, before each chose his position for the onslaught.

William’s final attack on Ely’s ramparts, a masterclass of military coordination, was launched thirty-six hours later. It began with a hail of stone missiles and a torrent of boiling oil, followed by wave after wave of arrows shot high into the air. The stones inflicted terrible injuries on the defenders and massive damage to Ely’s buildings. The oil, delivered in clay pots which shattered on impact, burned people and homes far and wide. The arrows landed with a deadly cadence, and killed or maimed the defenders in droves. It was a lethal bombardment, against which there was no protection.

Then came a pause in the barrage, as King William ordered his infantry to advance. Men in the front ranks carried scaling ladders, and row upon row of archers and crossbowmen followed behind the solid phalanx of foot soldiers. As the front line reached a point about 100 yards from the walls, the bowmen knelt and shot rapid bursts of bolts directly at the defenders on the ramparts, to murderous effect. Then, while the deadly cascade continued, the infantry surged forward at a run and flung their ladders at the walls.