All those who opposed the Duke William’s army did so at risk of excommunication and eternal damnation.
CHAPTER TWO
PEVENSEY SEPTEMBER 1066
Finally the prayers of the duke and his followers were answered. After what had seemed an interminable wait, the wind, which had blown consistently from the north for four weeks, finally changed to the south on the morning of Wednesday the 27th September.
The Norman army hurriedly embarked into the armada of waiting ships on what had become an unusually hot day. There were hundreds of ships, only the largest able to carry as many as fifty men and most as few as twenty- even less for those where the horses had been led snorting and afraid up small gangplanks onto the vessels.
Hugh de Berniers’ small squadron of cavalry was split between three of the smaller ships with six armed men, a few retainers and six horses each. Odin, Alan’s huge destrier, had proven to be one of the more fractious animals. A narrow wooden boardwalk had been build across the mud that separated the small open ship from the firm land of the riverbank and the war-horse had been reluctant enough to walk along that. To get him up the gangplank and into the padded stall that lay athwart-ships, with the animal being disturbed by the bustle and shouting all about and the loud neighing and the thump of kicks striking wood from those horses already loaded, required Alan to cover the head of the horse with a cloth while he pulled on the reins from the front and six men put their shoulders behind the horse’s rump and pushed, dodging out of the way as the horse lashed out with its rear hooves.
Everywhere were men and horses milling about in confusion on land. Ships were in equal disarray on the water, many crashing into each other as their inexperienced crews tried to manoeuvre them to or from the riverbank.
They departed on the mid-afternoon tide, the shallow mouth of the River Somme requiring the ships to have the assistance of the outgoing tide to navigate the many sandbanks and shoals. Even at high tide the ships carefully skirted exposed mudflats, where tiny brown and white sandpipers darted about and the larger black and white oystercatchers wandered slowly, using their large red beaks to dig for worms and crustaceans. White herons stalked carefully in the shallows, occasionally stabbing their beaks to catch small fish. Overhead seagulls wheeled and screamed loud protest at this invasion of their usually quiet estuary home. Alan stood with his elbows on the ship's rail, cheerfully exchanging comments with Robert and Hugh.
William had ordered the fleet to assemble around his flagship Mora in the bay beyond the river mouth, which would show a stern light on the overnight voyage. With so many ships there was no question of keeping any formation other than the ships moving en mass behind William’s large flagship. With the call for 600 ships had come a need for over 2,000 experienced sailors- which again Normandy didn’t have and which, unlike ships, couldn’t be obtained in a few weeks.
The fleet, the soldiers and sailors having attended a special Mass to beseech God’s mercy in their endeavour to sail such a large fleet late in the season, commended their souls to the Lord and set sail, heading north.
The boat on which Alan and Robert were travelling was ‘captained’, if that was the correct word, by a Fleming, with the assistance of two youths whom the Fleming had to instruct which ropes to pull. As darkness fell they couldn’t see the stern light of the Mora, so the captain, muttering all the time about the lateness of the season and the risk of storms, simply headed due north looking for the high white cliffs of Beachy Head, intending to then make a turn to the east to land at the instructed disembarkation point of Bulverhythe harbour, a large harbour just to the west of the smaller harbour of Hastings proper.
They spent an uncomfortable night. The strong southerly wind, while filling the single sail and pushing them north, also caused choppy seas. This, together with a swell from the east, caused the small cog to both pitch and roll. Almost as soon as the ship had reached open water most of the men were lining the ship’s side and vomiting. Robert was badly affected by seasickness, Alan less so. The horses, in their temporary stalls athwart-ships, were clearly unhappy; they stamped their feet, snorted and tried to kick or bite anybody who came in range at either end.
Sunrise was a little after 6.00am and the rising sun revealed them to be several miles from land, with Beachy Head off to the left. The ship was surrounded by a veritable forest of masts and sails all heading north, most apparently setting a course for Pevensey. High tide was due about noon and the tidal ebb of both Pevensey and Bulverhythe harbours dictated a quick disembarkation if ships were not to be swept back out to sea by the ebb of the tide. A few of the ships entered the harbour itself; most simply drew up and beached themselves bow-first at low water on the shingle beach or the mudflats to the east, disembarking as quickly as possible and then using the incoming tide to refloat and proceed back to sea.
With so many ships arriving almost at the same time, Alan’s boat had to wait for a patch of shingle beach to become free before the captain carefully manoeuvred between other boats and gently ran bow-forward onto the beach. The men-at-arms aboard disembarked immediately, jumping over the bow of the boat into the thigh-deep water and splashed their way ashore, leaving the knights and their retainers to unload the horses.
Unloading the horses was no easy task. Waves three feet high were rolling from astern, causing the ship to rise and fall and its bottom to thump onto the hard-packed stones of the beach. The planks that were placed amidships for the horses to walk down were repeatedly dislodged by the waves. With the typical perversity of their kind, several of the horses now decided that they didn’t want to leave their stalls. The captain and crew, standing back and providing no assistance, repeatedly shouted abuse and instructed the knights to, “Get the damn nags off this ship before we spring a plank. If you don’t do it quick, I’ll cut their damn throats and throw them overboard.” Robert detailed a man with drawn sword to detain the crew near the steering oar, and a blow to the mouth stopped the captain’s stream of abuse.
Eventually all six horses were coaxed down the narrow plank walkway, most with a blanket over their heads to prevent them being frightened and unmanageable. The sea where the horses were being unloaded was chest-deep and nearly an hour passed before the last horse was led wet and shivering up the beach.
All around them was a scene of total confusion. Men were struggling onboard ships; men were struggling though the water and men milling about on the beach with no idea of what to do. Horses stood on the beach and in groups closer to the town. Hundreds of ships were drawn up on the beach, with their sterns still in the water. Dozens of ships had lost control, some crashing into and running afoul of other ships, locked together. Others were side-on to the waves and rolling viciously as the waves pounded them against the stony beach. Those ships that had unloaded were struggling to get off the beach and get a reasonable distance off-shore- which was no easy task when they were on a lee-shore with the wind trying to blow them back to the beach.
Fortunately there was no interference from the English navy. Even a dozen Saxon longboats, propelled by oars, would have wreaked devastation amongst the invasion fleet. There was also no sign of the English army; again even a small force would have been able to have mounted an effective defence against the disorganized rabble who were landing. Alan was please to find that the rumours of the English fleet and the native militia fyrd being dispersed because of the lateness of the season appeared to be accurate. After all, nobody in their right mind would start an invasion in late September.