A Dream of England (or The Chronicles of Britannia)

A dream of England, beauteous fair, of all those who lived and died there

Part the Twelfth:

The coming of William the Conqueror and the death of King Harold

King Harold ruled England; he was kind and just;

the people all loved him (a man they could trust).

He took out the bad laws and kept all the good

that Edward had made and ruled as a King should.
His thoughts always for the good of his country
but he could not stop them drifting overseas,
anxiously and often looking to France
awaiting Duke William’s warships to advance,
his mind was not eased by the news that was brought
of a great fleet being built on their shores.
But different news was to turn his thoughts from
those of Duke William and the war to come:
a messenger arrived and fell on his knees
saying, “Great King I have bad tidings for thee:
Tostig, thy brother, and Hardrada of Norway,
have taken York; they slay and burn without mercy!”
So Harold gathered all his huscarls* around
and set out for Yorkshire, this new battleground,
to fight with his brother he did not want to
but for love of England this he had to do.
Roads in those days were rough, journeys were fraught
but Harold, to save time, had a clever thought:
from London to York a road Romans had made
allowed his army to get there in few days.
Almost alone rode out Harold the King
trying for peace with his brother to win,
but his brother’s loyalty was to Norway
and so a great battle was fought on that day;
both Tostig and Hardrada soon were dead
and all the ‘Northmen’ who fought with them fled.
But Harold was merciful in victory
and let them all return to their own country.
“The Battle of Stamford Bridge” this day was named
and as “Battle Bridge”, to this day, it is famed.
But, while these invaders up north faced defeat,
Duke William had finished preparing his fleet.
In white-sailed vessels over sea they came
with knights, archers, warhorses and spearmen.
The three golden lions of Normandy flew
on their banner as they sailed their course true
and when England’s shore came plainly in sight
they did not to find an army ready to fight
for all Harold’s men were up in the northlands.
A messenger was sent, told “Fast as you can,
tell the king William’s ships rest on the sand
and he and his army have laid waste the land!”
Harold’s men were resting ‘fore riding again
back down to London when the news came.
When he heard the news from the messenger’s mouth
he told all his men, “We must now ride south!”
He sent out ahead as he rode the same road
that any and all soldiers young, brave and bold,
should rally around him, their mettle to chance
and drive William and his army back to France.
Soon a great army rode out with their king
to where the Normans had made camp near Hastings.
The battle was joined and the armies engaged
and all throughout the long day the battle raged.
At one point a cry rang through the Norman ranks
that Duke William was dead; the soldiers’ hearts sank,
until William rode through them with his head bared
and the soldiers fought then harder than they’d dared.
As the day closed in England’s fortunes fell,
they had fought bravely, the French had fought well.
An Englishman won’t go down without a fight
and, in one last stance, they fought with all their might
Brave King Harold fell, pieced by an arrow,
but still they fought on, met the French blow for blow,
but Harold’s standard, bloodstained, kicked and tossed
was sign that the battle of Hastings was lost.
The bravest of England, they lay head to head
with their King on the battlefield, each one dead.
Harold was buried on the nearby seashore
and William gave honor to the foe he’d fought:
“Let him lie by his England’s sea”, he said,
“He’d guard it in life; let him guard it in death.”
William, though cruel, was not without heart
and in pity and remorse (well, maybe in part),
in the years to come an Abby there he’d build
the remains of which are found on that spot still.
And so in bravery, in valor and pride,
the very last of the English Kings there died.
A legend grew round him, a story at best,
whether it’s true we can’t hazard a guess,
that he had “England” written upon his breast;
what we do know is that he loved her to his death.

TO BE CONTINUED…

NEXT ON “A DREAM OF ENGLAND”:

Hereward the Wake and the last stand of the English

NOTE:

*Huscarls” -  During this period England did not have a National Army, ready at all times for battle, like we have today; the King would have a few soldiers he kept as his personal bodyguards and these were known as his “Huscarls”.  The rest of the soldiers were servants of the nobles and rich merchants who came together in times of national battle and then returned afterwards back to their own masters.