Conquest

As soon as the Norwegians saw the dark cloud of mounted attackers behind them, their rear ranks turned to create their own shield wall; the Norwegians were outflanked, something they hated. By the time they reached the Norwegian shields, Hereward’s huge phalanx of horsemen were at full gallop and, by staying close and keeping their discipline, cut through the line of defenders with ease. Hereward was at the centre of everything, often standing high in his stirrups and using the Great Axe of Goteborg to direct the point of attack. Not only was he able to wield his fearsome weapon on either side of his mount, but he was also able to lean out at perilous angles to create even wider arcs of mayhem. His progress was like that of a reaper in a field of barley as he cut swathes through the Norwegians beneath him. His was indeed a grim harvest.

The charge soon began to carve the Norse infantry into isolated pockets. The fleeing Norwegians were pursued all the way to their ships at Riccall on the Ouse. The fleet was torched and with it any chance of escape for the majority of the survivors. Harold’s two-pronged attack, committing his cavalry in the rear while his shield wall held its ground, had saved the day.

Hereward had arrived in Harold’s service with an unparalleled reputation. Now word of his prominence in the charge, and his bravery at the vanguard of the attack, spread through the ranks of the English army. His exploits and those of his Lord, Harold of England, would be carried back to the Norse lands by the survivors of Hardrada’s army to become part of Scandinavian legend for generations to come.

At sunrise, only Prince Olaf had survived of the entire Norwegian aristocracy; the whole of its military elite and most of its seasoned warriors had perished.

It was carnage on a brutal scale.

Harold knew that Norway would not be a force in Europe for at least a lifetime and he let Olaf leave with the twenty-four ships that remained afloat. Earl Tostig’s body was retrieved from the battlefield and he was buried at York. The Norwegians were allowed to remove Hardrada’s body, which was laid to rest in St Mary’s Church, Trondheim, a resting place that became a shrine to his poetry and his heroics.

It had been a remarkable victory for King Harold. After a gruelling march from Oxford, a force of barely 3,000 men, outnumbered by more than four to one, had beaten a Norse army led by the greatest warrior of his age.

The next morning, after they had both had a few hours’ sleep, Hereward and the King gathered their thoughts.

The King had won a great victory, but was in a sombre mood. ‘My friend, although the first battle is won, the greater one is still to come… and I have lost half my housecarls.’

‘Yes, sire, but every man who remains is worth two Normans.’

‘Perhaps, but it’s not just my housecarls I worry about, it is the number of Norman knights. I suspect they outnumber our Saxon thegns almost four to one.’

‘That is probably so, my Lord King. But they fight weighed down with armour, which on their heavy destriers makes them awkward and cumbersome. If we choose our ground well, we should be able to unseat them. By waiting for you to call in the harvest, the Duke has left it late in the year. Autumn is a two-edged sword; soon the ground will be sodden with the October rains. His big horses will sink to their bellies.’

‘You are a good man, Hereward; you always have a strategic answer. Stay close to me in these coming weeks.’

In a gesture rare for a king, Harold embraced Hereward like a brother. England’s two greatest warriors had become the closest of friends.

Harold and his army were on the move again within thirty-six hours. He knew that Duke William was either still in transit in the Channel or had already landed on the south coast. Harold had 1,500 mounted housecarls with him, but to ensure that his baggage train could keep pace, he travelled south much more slowly than he had in his dash northwards. His baggage was laden with Norse armour, shields and weapons, a vital cache of materiel for the forthcoming battle with the Normans — an encounter that could be only a matter of days away.