It’s the last day of our holiday, and we are going to the Battle Abbey, where the Battle of Hastings took place. I am very excited, for it has only just opened, and they will probably have loads of talks all about the battle in more detail than we have learnt about. I will tell you the whole story that we know already; from the beginning, to the end:
On 5th January 1066, King Edward the Confessor of England died. This caused the greatest hassle, for no one knew who should be king next, and there were three people thinking that they were the true heirs to the throne. These were William, duke of Normandy, Harald Hardrada, and Harold Godwinson.
While Edward was still alive, he was found at the feet of William in France. William then pretended to be nice to him, but eventually, he grew tired of the innocent, old king, and demanded that if he did not promise that the duke should be king next, he would never be sent back to his dear England again. Terrified, the old man put his hands flat on the table, and swore that he would let him be king. But when William whipped off the tablecloth, Edward found that he had swore over holy relics! He could never break his promise!
But that wasn’t all. Determined to be king of England once frail old Edward had died, William thought he had to do something more. “Holy relics mean lots to kings,” he said to himself; “but what about those who want to be king next, like me, and think that they will be? Relics mean lots more to them, too.”
So when a young man named Harold became shipwrecked on the coast of France, near to Normandy, and William just ‘happened’ to find him there. He also made Harold swear over the relics, too, and by that time poor Harold didn’t understand about Edward dying, and didn’t know that he wanted to be king yet; so he had no idea why William suddenly wanted to be king next.
Harold, however, once Edward had died, completely knew now why William had made him promise. He claimed that Edward, lying on his deathbed, had whispered, “Harold, I leave you king in line,” as he died. But, however likely the story was, it wasn’t so interesting as William’s.
Harald Hardrada was, as I say, another victim towards the throne. He had an excuse that his father was meant to have been the king, but Edward had mean crowned instead. “If my father,” said Harald – if, many people pointed out – “had been king, I would be heir to the throne. And my father should have been king, and Edward is, so we could possibly all say that Edward is my father. He is sitting on what my father should have sat on! I am due to the throne. It is my right by far to claim it.”
On the 6th of January, though, still in 1066, England badly needed to have a king. So they chose Harold Godwinson, the fair, kind man who had bowed his head to Edward himself, and listened to Edward’s words. He greatly loved England, with all its countryside and blooming flowers. “I am glad to be king, but I await William’s coming. What should you do when he arrives? He will be in England as soon as the word of my crowning comes to his ears.”
“Your Majesty,” echoed the people of England, “William is Norman. We are English – happy, peaceful, but well-trained English, and we would hate to have a French king. But we fight well, perfectly, and if they do invade from your promise, we can easily hold them off while we get allies. Do not worry yourself, Your Majesty.”
“Meet me in my chambers if you need me.” Harold strode off to his castle bedrooms and stood unwillingly by the window, watching for the Norman troops to come sailing over the sea. But nothing, nobody, came. The glistening waters were empty.
Then there was a bang on the door. A messenger came in, hot and weary. “Your Majesty,” he said, panting. “You must take war – invaders have come. Your brother Tostig and your mighty enemy Harald Hardrada are waiting for battle. Please, save you country…” and then he fell to the floor and collapsed of fatigue.
Harold gathered many housecarls (particularly well-trained warriors) and some cheaply-trained soldiers to add on to the army. He marched out of the castle and through winding paths of ringed sunlight, shadows and beams.
A long way away was Stamford Bridge. As soon as the two armies met, shields clanged, swords clashed, and screams, wails and war cries echoed through the air. “Tostig, you are risking your life, you cannot do this! Throw down your sword and shield! Leave the battlefield!” Harald Hardrada cried. “Listen to me!” But then two swords impaled each of the angry men and they fell to the floor.
Harold had won. But now they needed to get back to England, for news had broken out that William had arrived on the shores of Hastings. But all of the soldiers in Harold’s army were so worn out that some were left behind. Many of these were housecarls.
“Wait! You must wait for them! How simple can it be?” Harold’s friend told him. “If you march onwards and fight now, you will only have a few soldiers to fight with – a couple o’ hundred? Not enough, I’m telling you, it’s not enough! If you wait, you -”
“Will have more villages already burned in England,” said Harold. “I can’t stop. You can’t make me. My horse only obeys my commands.”
So the army (or what was left of the army) marched onwards without a sound; only their armour clanging against their chainmail, and – oh, alright, they made quite a lot of noise, then. The Normans had just arrived in Pevensey, and had already, as Harold had explained, killed many villagers and destroyed many villages – plus, they had already built a small castle there, too! So Harold kept going onwards, calling soldiers on. “Who will rid me of these tiresome soldiers? C’mon, the lot of you! Let us hurry towards our country! We will rid these Normans if not you!”
The armies arrived. Housecarls and fyrd, or random farmers, were lined up in a shield-wall. Swords clashed, jet-black helmets flew through the sky, and the whole armies shouted with rage. But then, all was lost.
“Harold has been defeated! William has won England!”
After the Battle of Hastings, William founded an abbey in the place now called ‘Battle’. Battle Abbey became a very rich and important monastery. All of the ordinary monks would have lived in dormitories and would have studied in the monastery buildings. They would have also wandered around the cloister, and prayed in the abbey itself (church). A really grand, enormous house was built specially for the abbot. But when Henry VIII got rid of all the monasteries, he gave the whole of Battle Abbey to his friend, Sir Anthony Browne. Sir Anthony loved the posh abbot’s house, so he took it for himself to live in, but destroyed the whole church! This would have been the main attraction in the abbey, with beautiful stained glass windows, and lovely stone walls and ceilings, and now you can’t see it, and it’s all not there. It’s really a terrific shame. But you can still see the monastery buildings, where the monks would have lived. There were some storerooms you can go in; and obviously you can’t go in the church. You can’t go in the abbot’s house, unfortunately, because it’s now a school – a pretty cool one, too!
There were little shops and a treasure hunt where we got a gigantic milk chocolate coin with Queen Victoria printed on it and chocolate! We had to go round the abbey and try to find the treasure chests, where we had clues. We found the answer without even filling in all the answers! – the crypt is where the monk lost his book.
ANYWAYS..before I get too absorbed in chocolate, I need you to make sure I don’t drool.
Droolpbphph…Oops.
Anyways! The abbey was huge and humongous and big and boomboombangbangbaby. It had a large stone where Harold had fallen, and a great large garden. It had been ruined by Henry III, mostly, but I like it that way.
And it’s our last day! We’re all snug at home, now. Goodbye goodbye!