those parts of the country; the people looked cowed, their Norman lords apprehensive.
Almost no one recognized me, which was a relief. I had been a clean-shaven boy when I left England, now I sported cropped whiskers, fashionable in Europe, rather than the full beard of Britain and Scandinavia, and wore the garb of a Norman lord; to all intents and purposes, I appeared to be one of them.
For Adela and Sweyn, the journey through Northumbria was a trying time. Although they had witnessed the brutality at the end of the Siege of Ely, the enormous scale of the horrors of the Harrying of the North was almost too much to comprehend. Each devastated village, with its hideous corpses and decaying fragments of buildings, was a glaringreminder of the massacre at Bourne and what they had suffered there. I watched them carefully, fearing that at any moment they might leap on to the nearest of our Norman comrades and slit his throat!
We reached York in time for the celebration of a very singular day for the burgh. Although the north-west was still a wasteland, a few people were returning to the major eastern burghs of the past, such as York and Durham, where a modicum of normality was beginning to return.
Not only were the Normans building mighty fortresses in praise of their military prowess, they were also erecting great cathedrals in homage to God. Thomas of Bayeux, who had been appointed Archbishop of York by the King, had taken ten years to gather the resources to begin a new cathedral to replace the derelict Saxon minster. When he heard of our journey to the North, he decided that it was a perfect opportunity for Robert to lay the foundation stone. So, amidst great panoply, yet another Norman monument began on the site of a place of worship that was centuries old.
Thomas of Bayeux was that other type of Norman – not the marauding warlord intent on building a military empire, but the builder of cultural empires, a man devoted to creating places of learning and for the worship of God. He had a kindly demeanour, but still had the gleam of the zealot in his eyes.
He greeted Robert like a prodigal son, overjoyed that such a prominent Norman would anoint his new project. A man of at least forty years of age, Thomas would of course never see his homage to God completed, but itmattered little to him; it would be his legacy to future generations and his gift to God. Those were the only things that were important. This was the power of the Normans – their desire to create a lasting legacy based on their immense martial prowess and their unshakeable faith in themselves and in God.
As we watched the masons and churchwrights busy themselves in preparation for laying the foundation stone, I tried to explain to Adela and Sweyn why I respected our Norman conquerors.
‘Look at them – like ants, relentless. It’s little wonder that Normans are sought after everywhere as soldiers and builders.’
Adela seized on my analogy.
‘More like pigs, to my mind – and it is our trough they’re feeding from. This church will be built with the sweat of thousands of English peasants, and thousands more will be made to pay unfair tithes to support it.’
‘I concede that it will not be built without sacrifice, but I wager that when the common people of Northumbria see their church rise to the heavens, they will be proud of it and claim it as their own.’
Sweyn added his own voice to Adela’s argument.
‘But they won’t have a choice.’
‘I agree, and that is to be regretted. But one day people will have choices – even the lowliest villein. I am committed to that.’
‘Indeed, sire, we know you are. That is why Adela and I have sworn our allegiance to you and Edwin.’
‘I am delighted that you have. This is only the beginning of a long road together; let us hope our path is nottoo arduous and that at the end of it we will feel that the journey has been worth it.’
When it came to the time for the ceremony, Thomas of Bayeux
Almost no one recognized me, which was a relief. I had been a clean-shaven boy when I left England, now I sported cropped whiskers, fashionable in Europe, rather than the full beard of Britain and Scandinavia, and wore the garb of a Norman lord; to all intents and purposes, I appeared to be one of them.
For Adela and Sweyn, the journey through Northumbria was a trying time. Although they had witnessed the brutality at the end of the Siege of Ely, the enormous scale of the horrors of the Harrying of the North was almost too much to comprehend. Each devastated village, with its hideous corpses and decaying fragments of buildings, was a glaringreminder of the massacre at Bourne and what they had suffered there. I watched them carefully, fearing that at any moment they might leap on to the nearest of our Norman comrades and slit his throat!
We reached York in time for the celebration of a very singular day for the burgh. Although the north-west was still a wasteland, a few people were returning to the major eastern burghs of the past, such as York and Durham, where a modicum of normality was beginning to return.
Not only were the Normans building mighty fortresses in praise of their military prowess, they were also erecting great cathedrals in homage to God. Thomas of Bayeux, who had been appointed Archbishop of York by the King, had taken ten years to gather the resources to begin a new cathedral to replace the derelict Saxon minster. When he heard of our journey to the North, he decided that it was a perfect opportunity for Robert to lay the foundation stone. So, amidst great panoply, yet another Norman monument began on the site of a place of worship that was centuries old.
Thomas of Bayeux was that other type of Norman – not the marauding warlord intent on building a military empire, but the builder of cultural empires, a man devoted to creating places of learning and for the worship of God. He had a kindly demeanour, but still had the gleam of the zealot in his eyes.
He greeted Robert like a prodigal son, overjoyed that such a prominent Norman would anoint his new project. A man of at least forty years of age, Thomas would of course never see his homage to God completed, but itmattered little to him; it would be his legacy to future generations and his gift to God. Those were the only things that were important. This was the power of the Normans – their desire to create a lasting legacy based on their immense martial prowess and their unshakeable faith in themselves and in God.
As we watched the masons and churchwrights busy themselves in preparation for laying the foundation stone, I tried to explain to Adela and Sweyn why I respected our Norman conquerors.
‘Look at them – like ants, relentless. It’s little wonder that Normans are sought after everywhere as soldiers and builders.’
Adela seized on my analogy.
‘More like pigs, to my mind – and it is our trough they’re feeding from. This church will be built with the sweat of thousands of English peasants, and thousands more will be made to pay unfair tithes to support it.’
‘I concede that it will not be built without sacrifice, but I wager that when the common people of Northumbria see their church rise to the heavens, they will be proud of it and claim it as their own.’
Sweyn added his own voice to Adela’s argument.
‘But they won’t have a choice.’
‘I agree, and that is to be regretted. But one day people will have choices – even the lowliest villein. I am committed to that.’
‘Indeed, sire, we know you are. That is why Adela and I have sworn our allegiance to you and Edwin.’
‘I am delighted that you have. This is only the beginning of a long road together; let us hope our path is nottoo arduous and that at the end of it we will feel that the journey has been worth it.’
When it came to the time for the ceremony, Thomas of Bayeux
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