in the decisive battles of his campaign against the troublesome earl. Here was the place of his victory and here should be his political capital.
Thus it was in 1050 that Edward the Confessor moved his court to what became called the Palace of Westminster, a name retained to this day as the home of Parliament.
Portents of Disaster
Shipwreck and shooting star spell the end of Saxon England
O n his deathbed in January 1066, Edward the Confessor had a dream that God’s curse lay on England for her sins. With unseemly haste Earl Godwin’s son, Harold, took the throne with the blessing of his Saxon peers before either of his rival pretenders, Edgar the Atheling or Hardrada, king of Norway, could press their claims. Though Harold had served Edward faithfully for many years as his military commander, many believed his enthronement in Westminster Abbey – literally within hours of the outgoing king’s burial – would disturb Providence. There was also William, Duke of Normandy, to consider. Had not Edward the Confessor strangely promised him the English crown?
Another promise, however, carried yet more weight. Two years earlier, Harold had embarked on a trip into the English Channel, a journey that has prompted a good deal of speculation. He departed from Bosham on the south coast, allegedly after a merry feast. The depiction of Harold in the Bayeux Tapestry shows him carrying a hawk and a hound in a single boat, suggesting merely a pleasure trip.
French trick?
The French version of events says that Harold had been instructed by the English king to go to Normandy and swear allegiance to William. Well, it would, wouldn’t it? Whatever the motive, Harold’s expedition ran into stormy weather, he was shipwrecked off the coast of Normandy and arrested by Count Guy of Ponthieu. The Norman account continues with the hapless Harold being rescued by Duke William and in return Harold helps him fight his enemies in Brittany. For his great valour Harold is honoured with a knighthood, and at some stage he apparently swears an oath of fealty to William.
Unfortunately there is no record in
The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle
to confirm or deny this account, nor to clarify exactly what French status Harold was supporting. Doesn’t it seem strange that Harold, who had every reason to think he himself to be the next English king, should give away the crown so lightly? Unless, perhaps, he was tricked in some way.
Certainly he must have been under extreme pressure in the circumstances, for he was in William’s power. All the Norman nobles, knights, and churchmen crowded round him bearing witness to the deed. Once the oath had been sworn, it seems William stood up from his ducal throne, and stepped forward to remove a cloth revealing a special casket containing holy relics. The significance is obscure but may it not be possible that Harold believed he was simply endorsing William’s claim to some French seat of power, not the English throne, and that this promise bore unbreakable divine sanction? Perhaps Harold was confused and simply went along with events to show good faith.
At any rate, his return to England was received badly. The Bayeux Tapestry depicts Edward pointing an accusatory finger at Harold. Had the king perhaps just got wind of the fact that his commander had just given away his kingdom? These circumstances might explain the hastiness with which Harold had himself crowned.
Heavenly portent
An anxious public feared that all may not be well in the heavenly abode. As Harold appeared at Easter tide donning the crown, some shivers of apprehension must have greeted him. And sure enough, their misgivings were justified. Within weeks, a startling apparition appeared in the sky. The shape of a gigantic flaming sword burned the eyes of its beholders. For seven nights it blazed forth. There was no doubt God was expressing his disapproval. And the symbol of his choice could mean only one thing: disaster for the Saxon kingdom.
Not realising
Kit Tunstall, R.E. Saxton