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Saturday, 4 January 2025

Celebrating 25 years in print: LET'S HEAR IT FOR HAROLD

celebrating


THE EVENTS THAT LED TO
 THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 1066



The following is my counter blast to the Norman propaganda machine, based upon the research for my novel Harold The King, (published in the USA as I Am The Chosen King)

1066, the most famous date in English history. The Battle of Hastings. To be precise, the 14th of October, 1066, the day when William, Duke of Normandy, led his conquering army against King Harold II of England.

Today, more than 959 years later, one could be forgiven for thinking that politicians had invented spin doctoring, but media manipulation is nothing new. By 1077 Duke William's half-brother, Bishop Odo of Bayeux, had commissioned an embroidery - now called the Bayeux Tapestry - to depict the victorious events; William of Poitiers and William of Jumièges had both written a detailed version of the Conquest. William himself had ordered the building of a splendid abbey on the battle site, the altar being placed at the spot where Harold fell. Supposedly killed by an arrow in the eye.

However, the Norman versions are heavily biased, their explicit purpose: to prove to a Papal inquiry, concerned at the level of brutality and aggression meted on the English, that William's conquest had been justified.

I smell a rat.

Within twenty years of the Conquest, after the North of England had been savagely razed and the Domesday Book compiled, King Harold II's reign of nine months and nine days was completely undermined. Despite legitimate crowning and anointing, therefore taken unto God, in the newly built Westminster Abbey, he was systematically downgraded to his pre-1066 title of Earl and discredited. William's media managers had to justify political murder. 

Strip away the Norman gilding, and what do you get? Twisted truths and blatant lies. Start with the fact that William had no right whatsoever to claim the English throne.

He was the result of Duke Robert's liaison with Herleve, the daughter of a tanner. No one in Normandy expected Robert to die before he took a wife and had a legitimate heir. In fairness to the boy, who grew up to be little more than a sadistic, psychopathic tyrant (well I am a Harold supporter) he did suffer a traumatic childhood. The Norman nobles were not happy bunnies, they did not want an eight year old by-blow as their next Duke. As a child, William had to flee for his life more than once; saw his trusted servant murdered before his eyes. What a pity there was not a Norman equivalent of child counselling. Had there been, perhaps England would have been left in peace and William would have kept his land and wealth-grubbing hands off.

William's claim, in 1066, was that his great-aunt, Emma, had been Queen of England - the only woman to have been queen to two different kings of England. Æthelred, better known as the Unready, and Cnut - that's the correct spelling of Canute - the King famous for attempting to hold back the tide. Her firstborn son was Edward, later canonised and called the Confessor. Blame the Conquest on him.

He was sent into exile when, with Æthelred dead and England falling to the conquest of the Dane, Cnut, Emma decided to remain queen by marrying him. For more than thirty years Edward languished in Normandy. He was in his early teens when he left, a man approaching middle years when he came back, recalled to be crowned King of England. He was a man indoctrinated with the Norman way of life, and probably, would have preferred to take Holy Orders. He may have declared a vow of chastity, or he may have been gay. (There are indications to infer he was.)

His wife, Edith, bore him no children. In this period of history barrenness was always the woman's fault but Edith was never blamed. Edward even took her back as wife after a nasty incident when her father was accused of turning traitor and forced into exile. Edith was sent to a nunnery, always a woman's fate, but after a year, with Godwine forgiven and re-instated as Earl, she too was recalled.

Oh, and by the way, the Normans were not French, although William's great-grandfather had embraced Christianity and the French, civilised, way of life. The Normans were relocated North Men. They were Vikings.

According to William's biographers, King Edward had appointed him his heir, and despite swearing an oath to support his claim, Harold had seized the throne in indecent haste and had himself crowned on the same day as the old king's funeral, January 6th 1066. Outraged, William immediately ordered an invasion of England and while Halley's Comet blazed in the sky a fleet was assembled. In September, he crossed the English Channel without mishap. In the meantime, Harold's brother, Tostig had invaded Yorkshire. Moving swiftly, Harold marched to Stamford Bridge near York and won a victory, but when he heard of William's landing he had to return, hot foot, south.

Medieval spin doctors would have us believe that Harold was a poor commander who fought with a tired and depleted army against the elite supremacy of Norman cavalry. Victorious, William marched on London and on Christmas Day was the first king to be crowned in all splendour in Westminster Abbey. Personally, I think his title of bastard is for the other use of the word, and has nothing to do with his lack of legitimacy.

So how had Harold become King? His father, Godwine, was the most powerful man beneath Edward. He had risen to power under Emma and Cnut. Five of his six sons became earls and his daughter, Edith was Edward's childless queen. When Godwine died Harold stepped into his shoes as Earl of Wessex. Harold proved, several times, that he was an able and capable soldier. He conquered Wales, not Edward I in the thirteenth century. Harold became King of England because he was chosen as King; he was the most suitable man for the job. Edward could not have appointed William as heir, things did not work like that in Anglo-Saxon England. When a successor had to be found the most suitable man was chosen by the Council, the Witan. William might have been considered, but against Harold? No contest.

The coronation took place on the day of the funeral because, knowing the king was dying, everyone of importance had been summoned to the Christmas Court. By early January they needed to return home and England could not be left vulnerable until the next calling of Council at Easter. There was nothing untoward about accomplishing such important issues on the same day.

But what of the claim that Harold had pledged an oath to aid William? In 1064 Harold went to Normandy, his voyage duly recorded on the Bayeux Tapestry. Norman sources declare he went to offer William the crown; more likely he was hoping to achieve the release of his brother Wulfnoth and nephew Hakon, held hostage by William since that temporary disgrace of Earl Godwine back in 1052. (I'll not go into detail, suffice to say the exile was caused by some Normans stirring trouble in Dover. Godwine refused to take their side, hence his falling out with the King. When the Normans went home they took the two boys with themto ensure safe passage.) 

Harold did return to England with Hakon, but Wulfnoth never saw his freedom again.

While William's guest, Harold went on campaign with the Duke earning himself honours by rescuing two men from drowning near Mont St. Michel (again depicted in the tapestry). Riding with William, Harold would have discovered what sort of man he was. Dedicated to his cause. Single-minded. Ruthless. At the siege of Alencon, William had men skinned alive for daring to taunt him about the nature of his mother's background. William was the one who invented starving to death by incarceration in a dungeon. He was quite capable of slaughtering innocent women and children.

At William's Court, Harold was forced to swear, on holy relics, an oath to agree to support the Duke's claim to the English throne. Did he have any choice? What would have been the consequences for Harold and his men if he had refused? William, as his own vassals knew and Harold had discovered, was not a man you said non to. If you knew you would be locked away for the rest of your life and your men butchered, wouldn't you have let them die or risked perjury to save them?

For a Saxon nobleman it was a matter of honour to protect those you command. To place his men in danger by refusing, Harold would have brought a greater dishonour on himself. Only those Norman spin doctors claimed an oath made under circumstances of coercion was binding.

As for Harold's command at Hastings - he showed aptitude and courage, dignity and ability. Norman propaganda states that he fought with tired men, with only half the fyrd - the army - and without the support of the North.

That is not true.

In mid-September, Harold had marched from London to York in five days to confront his jealous, traitorous brother, Tostig, who had allied with Harald Hardrada of Norway. The southern fyrd, on alert all summer, had been stood down - because William had already tried invading and had been soundly beaten at sea.

Harold's only mistake: he underestimated how quickly William could re-gather a new fleet.

Harold took only his housecarls - his permanent army - north, gathering the men of the midlands to him as he marched. Undoubtedly, the housecarls were mounted for no infantry could cover that distance so quickly. Already the fyrds of the north had fought and lost a great battle at Gate Fulford, outside York. Under Harold, they fought again - this time to win - at Stamford Bridge.

It was not that the nobility and the men of the fyrd did not want to support Harold at Hastings; they could not, for their numbers were savagely depleted, many of the survivors wounded and exhausted after fighting two battles. It would have been impossible for them to have marched south when news came that William had landed. The northern earls did in fact follow Harold as soon as they could but, of course, by then it was too late.

The battle that took place seven miles inland from Hastings is almost unique for this period. Fighting was usually over within the hour, two at most. This battle lasted all day. The English, for the most part, stood firm along the ridge that straddled the road out into the Weald, stood shield locked against shield, William's men toiling again and again up that hill. This was deliberate strategy on Harold's part. He and his men had marched to York and back, fought a battle in between. Doesn't it make sense to make the opponent do all the hard work?

Yes, perhaps Harold would rather have waited before committing his men to fight, but he had no choice in the decision: once out into the Sussex Weald it would have been difficult to stop William. Within the Hastings peninsula, he and the extensive, deliberate, damage he was doing to people and property were firmly contained. Harold had to keep him there, therefore Harold had to fight.

The ridge today

He stood his men, firm, along the ridge, forming the shield wall. Side by side (to coin an over-used phrase, "shoulder to shoulder") Shouting their contempt, clashing spear and axe against their shields, hurling abuse down that steep, grass hill that so rapidly became a morass of mud and blood:

"Ut! Ut! Ut! - Out! Out! Out!"

Three times William was unhorsed. Three times the Normans retreated; only the fear of William's wrath held them together, although the Norman writers naturally portrayed their blind panic as strategic withdrawal. Only once did Harold's men let him down. The right flank broke - assuming William's men were beaten they tore down the hill after them, Being cavalry, the Normans were able to regroup. The result was outright slaughter, every Saxon that charged down the hill was killed.

And so to Harold's death. The Bayeux Tapestry depicts a man wounded by an arrow in his eye, and another being felled by a sword, the words 'Here Harold is killed' above both. Which one is Harold? Well, it is not the one with the arrow. Arrows travel in a trajectory. They go up, form an arc, come down. Can you honestly believe that there stood Harold, an experienced soldier, looking upward as arrows came over?

King Harold II of England died at the hands of four of William's ignoble noblemen. They dismembered and decapitated him.

The truth of Hastings? Our last English king died slowly and bloodily. He was savagely hacked to pieces on the battlefield that later became known as Hastings. Ðœt wœs göd cyning. Harold was a good king. He gave his life defending England from foreign invasion, and has paid the penalty of deliberately twisted truth ever since.



Tomorrow - a closer look at that oath!


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Wednesday, 1 January 2025

Thoughts from a Devonshire Farmhouse - January 2025



Hello! Thank you to all who have joined the ‘please remind me about your thoughts' email list. If you'd like to be added simply email me on subscribe@helenhollick.net (you can unjoin any time).

To kick the New Year off to a good start, January’s ‘Thoughts’ theme is...

Books

I guess my biggest pleasure is the joy of books – well the content, particularly fiction, but a good dollop of non-fiction counts as well. The next biggest is the ability to read them. Do we take this ability for granted? I think many of us do. Very much so!

On the opposite side, my biggest disappointment is that my daughter and husband don’t share this utterly consuming passion for reading. Husband has read two of my cosy mysteries but that's all. I think only my nephew and a cousin have read any of my others. Which, as an author, is not just annoying, but hurtful... although there are mitigating circumstances for husband and daughter. (Kind of!) They are both severely dyslexic, so when it’s an uphill struggle to try to read words which jump about on a page, or blur, or wobble or just plain don’t make sense then where’s the pleasure in it? (I do still find it hard to accept my family hasn't read my books though :-/  )

Those of us who do read – and read a lot – on the whole don’t understand what it’s like not to read. Not reading hasn’t really made much difference to Daughter and Husband, I suppose because if you haven’t ever had something then you don’t miss it, but that’s difficult for us devoted readers to comprehend. I can’t imagine my life without books; reading them, writing them, owning them, enjoying them...

Having said that, Daughter has helped with producing my next book (Ghost Encounters of North Devon,) I've done the writing, she's done some of the photography and most of the special talented research. You'll find out more soon. (I promise!)


My first memory of books is of coming out of Walthamstow library clutching a Little Grey Rabbit book (Alison Uttley) I was thrilled because it was one I hadn’t read. I say ‘read’... was I reading books myself by then? I was four when we moved from Walthamstow to Chingford, ergo I wasn’t four when I had this memory - maybe nearly four? But I have no recollection of Mum, Dad or Big Sister reading me stories. And I don't remember not reading!

That’s another huge disappointment. (Oh the things us Mum’s suffer!) I started reading a Little Grey Rabbit book to Daughter when she was tiny, (yes I have copies of my favourites – they’re here on the shelf in my office). We got a couple of pages into the story, turned the page and there was a picture of Hare. Daughter freaked out. Hated the book. I was gutted. It was only when we moved here to Devon (12  years ago now!) that she and I discovered the reason why... she has  a Hare Phobia. This was, undoubtedly, a Past Life residue because there are no hares in Epping Forest or in the Essex/London suburban border – at least I’d never seen one, so that instant, unfaked reaction of hers as a three year old to her very first sight of a hare in that storybook was, at last explained. She still freaks out, even at simple pictures of a hare, as to the real thing... there are quite a few here in Devon, only please don’t remind her! She's fine with rabbits. Not hares.


Jill and Blackboy

I have always been disappointed that Daughter has never read any of my beloved pony stories that are another treasure of mine. Jill's Gymkhana, I was given this book as a ninth birthday present. The unwrapped parcel was obviously a book, I did feel a bit cheated, I admit, then I opened it... oh my goodness! I’d been unaware that there was such a thing as a Pony Story! I so desperately wanted a pony of my own (no way could we afford one,) so this was the next best thing. I devoured that book – the pages are now battered and the book somewhat fragile from overuse, but it is still a treasure.

One comment here though. Several years ago we went through that rather ridiculous Politically Correct rubbish. Blackboards had to be called whiteboards, for instance, and the Jill books had to be changed. Blackboy, her pony, had his name changed... I mean come on, he was called Blackboy because he was a black pony! There was absolutely nothing detrimental about it!

I digress: thank goodness for the local library (yes, the same one where I eventually worked as a library assistant, and the same one used as a base for my Jan Christopher Cosy Mysteries). I know I was in that library at least once a week after school, always reading, cherishing my next chosen book, always had my nose in a book. Always getting teased about it.

South Chingford Library
©Alison Morton

Anyone else remember being teased about getting ‘square eyes’ from reading too much? Or being told not to have the book so close to your eyes: ‘you’ll ruin your eyesight’. But I was extremely shortsighted so of course I held books close, I couldn’t bloomin’ see the print otherwise!

No one realised I could only see a blur before I was five years old. It took a teacher, eventually, to suggest to my mother that maybe I needed glasses. Didn’t it occur to her that I was always falling over things for a reason? (Now I can’t see because I’ve got Glaucoma – DO always get your eyes checked ESPECIALLY if relatives have Glaucoma, it is hereditary and you can keep it at bay if you catch it early enough. I didn’t.)

Actually, the teasing at Secondary School became bullying. I was an oddball because I preferred books to boys. (Hah! Still do! LOL)

Books – stories – were my escape. My only friends were characters in books. (Mostly pony friends who were lucky enough to own a pony. Tamzin and Rissa from Wish For A Pony, and the Punchbowl Farm series. (Monica Edwards) for instance. I still have all of them in paperback. Why oh why are they not available now on Kindle so I could still read them????


Reading took me away from the misery of school. (Apart from English, I hated school.) Reading took me to a different world. 

Reading led to writing. I wrote pony stories (of course.) I wanted that pony, couldn’t have one, so invented Tara. Such a shame I never kept any of those scribbled stories. (I wonder where I got the name from? I was about twelve - I can only think Gone With The Wind must have influenced me somehow?)

Come the GCE exams... I’d finished the R.E, exam in half the time, now what to do? Obvious, I started writing a story. Asked for more paper. Then more. What I didn’t realise, all the other girls taking the exam assumed I was still answering questions and were worried because they hadn’t written much. I was even less popular after that. Didn't worry me to be honest - they left me alone!

The library was an ideal job for a square-eyed bookworm. All those books – brand new ones as well!  Pony stories had led to adventure stories, science fiction, fantasy and then historical fiction. And writing my own novel.

I think I drove everyone mad with my constant 'When I write my best-seller...’
Took me a while to do it though. I didn’t get a publishing contract until I was forty – a week after my birthday, and that was back in 1993.

But where would we be without books? Where would we be without libraries and FREE access to books?

The biggest thrill this recent just-gone Christmas? We spent Christmas Day here at home with good friends and their little lad, who is two. I gave him a few board books, the first one he opened was Spot the Dog, a lift-the-flap of Spot. The delight? The little lad opened his present, and immediately exclaimed “SPOT!!!” then sat and 'read' every page.

Thank goodness for books.

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News From Home

I've always been a very poor diary keeper. Guilty because most famous writers seem to have always said 'I kept a regular diary'. (Oh well, that remiss on my part might explain why I'm not famous?) Here's a brief update on what I'm doing though...

JANUARY 2025

I'm gradually moving up the waiting list to have my hip robotisised (is that a word?) A Bionic Hip replacement. Not that I'm expecting to be able to leap over walls or sprint up the lane after the op - I'll be happy with just being able to walk a reasonable distance without having to shove down a bottleful of painkillers or rely on a stiff G & T!

No idea when the actual op will be ... 'soon' according to the NHS can be any time between now and August 2025.

Meanwhile, my ongoing 'Hamster Syndrome' visited again just before New Year which laid me up for the usual 3 days (it seems to be something that triggers an infection in my right neck/ear/glands, which puffs up (hence Hamster Syndrome) and makes me feel like I've got extreme dizziness and mild flu. I'm OK if I keep still, so I take to my bed like one of those delicate Victorian Ladies and stay there until it passes.

The good thing: I get to binge watch TV. Not that there was much on TV over Christmas. The usual films (I did watch Gladiator) and enjoyed the Christmas quizzes such as Celebrity Mastermind and University Challenge ... easier than the normal U.C.!

On the Book News front:

Ghost Encounters: The Lingering Spirits of North Devon is completed and will be published some time in the early spring (watch this space for news!) I'm also opening a Ghost Encounters Blog to keep any additional information up to date - again watch this space for more news, links etc.

I must get on and write the seventh Sea Witch Voyage (Jamaica Gold) and the sixth Jan Christopher (A Mischief of Murder), plus along with several fabulous authors there will be a short story anthology published some time this year on the theme of FATE.


And during this first week of January I will be celebrating 25 years in print with Harold The King!... watch this space!



I hope all that has got you intrigued enough to come back next month and discover more news...?

lege feliciter (read happily)





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