Hereward, the Last of the EnglishKingsley, Charles
History
Hereward, the Last of the English
Kingsley, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- To 1066 -- Fiction
But of those tactics the English knew nothing. Their armies were little
more than tumultuous levies, in which men marched and fought under local
leaders, often divided by local jealousies. The commissariats of the
armies seem to have been so worthless, that they had to plunder friends
as well as foes as they went along; and with plunder came every sort
of excess: as when the northern men marching down to meet Harold
Godwinsson, and demand young Edwin as their earl, laid waste, seemingly
out of mere brute wantonness, the country round Northampton, which must
have been in Edwin’s earldom, or at least in that of his brother Morcar.
And even the local leaders were not over-well obeyed. The reckless
spirit of personal independence, especially among the Anglo-Danes,
prevented anything like discipline, or organized movement of masses, and
made every battle degenerate into a confusion of single combats.
But Hereward had learned that art of war, which enabled the Norman to
crush, piecemeal, with inferior numbers, the vast but straggling levies
of the English. His men, mostly outlaws and homeless, kept together by
the pressure from without, and free from local jealousies, resembled
rather an army of professional soldiers than a country _posse
comitatus_. And to the discipline which he instilled into them; to his
ability in marching and manoeuvring troops; to his care for their food
and for their transport, possibly, also, to his training them in that
art of fighting on horseback in which the men of Wessex, if not the
Anglo-Danes of the East, are said to have been quite unskilled,--in
short, to all that he had learned, as a mercenary, under Robert
the Frison, and among the highly civilized warriors of Flanders and
Normandy, must be attributed the fact, that he and his little army
defied, for years, the utmost efforts of the Normans, appearing and
disappearing with such strange swiftness, and conquering against such
strange odds, as enshrouded the guerilla captain in an atmosphere of
myth and wonder, only to be accounted for, in the mind of Normans as
well as English, by the supernatural counsels of his sorceress wife.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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