Week 20: Perotin

Virtually nothing is known of the life of Perotin (c.1200), also called Magister Perotinus or Perotinus Magnus. Our entire knowledge of his attributions and activity rests on a paragraph written by the theorist Anonymous IV. Anonymous IV states that Perotin extended and edited the work of Leonin in the Magnus liber organi, and among other things that he took what was a two-voice style of writing and developed it into three- and four-voice polyphony. Although Perotin is not believed to have been alone in this undertaking, his is the most prominent name associated with what was a seminal event in Western music. While the grandeur of his four-voice Viderunt omnes & Sederunt principes is a testament to his contrapuntal skill, his monophonic conductus Beata viscera shows his melodic talent. Perotin is known for regularizing the structure of organum, introducing new elements of planning, and ultimately removing it from its improvisational roots. This activity manifested itself most clearly in the extended clausulas, or closing cadential flourishes in mostly note-against-note (descant) style, which Perotin wrote. These clausulas became the basis of the motet genre, another innovation in which Perotin might have participated directly.

Week 19: Leonin

Week 18: Gaudeamus Igitur

Gaudeamus Igitur 

Gaudeamus igitur, Juvenes dum sumus; Post icundum iuventutem, Post molestam senectutem Nos habebit humus.	Let us therefore rejoice, While we are young; After our youth, After a troublesome old age The ground will hold us.
Vita nostra brevis est, Brevi finietur; Venit mors velociter, Rapit nos atrociter; Nemini parcetur.	Our life is brief, It will shortly end; Death comes quickly, Cruelly snatches us; No-one is spared.
Ubi sint qui ante nos In mundo fuere? Vadite ad superos, Transite in inferos Hos si vis videre.	Where are those who before us Existed in the world? You must go up to the gods, You must cross into the underworld If you wish to see them.
Vivat academia, Vivant professores, Vivat membrum quodlibet, Vivat membra quaelibet; Semper sint in flore!	Long live our school, Long live our teachers, Long live each male student, Long live each female student; May they always flourish!
Pereat tristitia, Pereant osores. Pereat diabolus, Quivis antiburschius Atque irrisores!	Perish sadness, Perish haters. Perish the devil, Whoever is against us students, As well those who mock us!
Quis confluxus hodie Academicorum? E longinquo convenerunt, Protinusque successerunt In commune forum.	Who has gathered now Of the university? They gather from long distances, Immediately joining Our common forum.
Vivat nostra societas, Vivant studiosi! Crescat una veritas, Floreat fraternitas, Patriae prosperitas.	Long live our fellowship, Long live the studious! May truth and honesty thrive, Flourish with our fraternity, And our homeland be prosperous.
Alma Mater floreat, Quae nos educavit; Caros et commilitones, Dissitas in regiones Sparsos, congregavit.	May our Alma Mater thrive, That which educated us; Dear ones and comrades, Who we let scatter afar, Let us reunite.

Week 17: Hildegard von Bingen Biography

Hildegard von Bingen Biography

Week 17: Ordo Virtutum

                                                                 

 The Ordo Virtutum is a morality play set to music. It depicts the struggles of a soul torn between good and evil, in the form of 17 virtues and the devil. The virtues are sung by 17 female soloists, the Prophets and Patriarchs are represented by the chorus, and the part of the devil is not sung, but spoken, because Hildegard believed the devil had no divine harmony. With the exception of the devil’s part, the composition uses plainchant. As the story unfolds, the soul goes through a series of events where it must choose between the virtues and the temptations of the devil, who seduces her. In the end, the soul becomes repentant and returns to the virtues, and God is praised. The composition contains 82 different melodies. It is significant to the Ars Antiqua period for being the earliest known morality play, and a type of "pre-opera."

Characters:

Anima (Soul)

Devil

Virtues: Humility (Queen of all Virtues), Knowledge-of-God, Charity, Fear-of-God, Obedience, Faith, Hope, Chastity, Innocence, Contempt-for-the-World, Heavenly Love, Discipline, Modesty, Mercy, Victory, Discretion (Discretio), Patience

Patriarchs and Prophets:

Who are these who seem like clouds?

Virtues: 

O ancient holy ones, why do you marvel at us? The Word of God grows bright in the form of a man, and thus we shine with him, building the limbs of his beautiful body.

Patriarchs and Prophets:

We are roots, and you are branches, the fruit of the living eye, of which we were the shadow.

Lament of embodied Souls:

We are strangers here! What have we done, straying to realms of sin? We should have been daughters of the King, but we have fallen into the shadow of sins.  Living Sun, carry us on your shoulders back to that most just inheritance we lost in Adam! O king of kings, we are fighting in your battle.

Soul, joyful:

Oh sweet divinity, o gentle life, in which I shall wear a bright robe, accepting that which I lost in my first formation – I cry to you and invoke all of the virtues.

Virtues:

Oh happy Soul, or sweet creature of God fashioned in the great height of the wisdom of God, you show much love.

Soul, joyful:

Oh let me come to you freely, that you may give me the kiss of your heart.

Virtues:

We must fight with you, or royal daughter.

Soul turns to sadness

Oh heavy toil, oh harsh weight that I bear in the dress of this life; it is too heavy for me to fight against my body.

Virtues to Soul

Anima, you that were given your place by the will of God, you instrument of bliss, why are you so tearful in the face of the evil god crushed in a maidenly being? You must overcome the devil in our midst.

Soul:

Support me, help me to stand firm!

Knowledge-of-God to Soul:

See the dress you are wearing, daughter of salvation: be steadfast and you will never fall.

Soul, sadly:

I don’t know what to do or where to flee.  Woe is me, I cannot perfect this dress I have put on!  Indeed I want to cast it off!

Virtues:

Unhappy state of mind, oh poor Anima, why do you hide your face in the presence of your Creator?

Knowledge-of-God:

You do not know or see or taste the One who has set you here.

Soul:

God created the world; I’m doing him no injury, I only want to enjoy it!

Devil shouting at the Soul:

What use to you is toiling foolishly? Look to the world; it will embrace you with great honor.

Virtues:

Is this not a plangent voice of the greatest sorrow? Ah, a certain marvelous victory already rose in that Soul, in her wondrous longing for God, in which a sensual delight was secretly hidden, alas, where previously the will had known no guilt and the desire fled man’s wantonness.  Mourn for this, mourn Innocence, you who lost no perfection in your fair modesty, who did not devour greedily, with the belly of the serpent of old.

Devil:

What is the Power – as if there were no one but God? I say, whoever wants to follow me, and no my will, I’ll give him everything.  As for you, Humility, you have nothing that you can give your followers; none of you even know what you are!

Humility:

My comrades and I know very well that you are the ancient dragon who wanted to fly higher than the highest one; but God himself hurled you into the abyss.

Virtues:

As for us, we dwell I the heights.

Humility:

I, Humility, queen of the Virtues, say: come to me, you Virtues, and I’ll give you the skill to seek and find the drachma that is lost and to crown her who perseveres blissfully.

Virtues:

Oh glorious queen, most gentle mediator, we come gladly.

Humility:

Because of this, beloved daughters, I’ll keep your place in the royal wedding-chamber.

Charity:

I am Charity, the flower of love – come to me, Virtues, and I’ll lead you into the radiant light of the flower of the rod.

Virtues:

Dearest flower, we run to you with burning desire.

Fear-of-God:

I Fear-of-God, can prepare blissful daughters to gaze upon the living God and not die of it.

Virtues:

Oh Fear, you can help us greatly; we are filled with the longing never to part from you.

Devil:

Bravo! Bravo! What is this great fear, and this great love? Where is the champion? Where the prize-giver? You don’t know what you are worshipping!

Virtues:

But you, you were terrified at the Supreme Judge, for, swollen with price, you were plunged into Gehenna.

Obedience:

I am shining Obedience – come to me, lovely daughters, and I’ll lead you to your homeland and to the kiss of the King.

Virtues:

Sweetest summoner, it is right for us to come, most eagerly, to you.

Faith:

I am Faith, the mirror of life; worthy daughters, come to me and I shall show you the leaping fountain.

Virtues:

Oh Serene one, mirror-like, we trust in you; we shall arrive at the fountain through you.

Hope:

I am the sweet beholder of the living eye, I whom no dissembling torpor can deceive.  Darkness, you cannot cloud my gaze.

Virtues:

Living life, gentle consoling one, you overcome the deadly shafts of death and with your seeing eye lay heaven’s gate open.

Chastity:

O Virginity, you remain without the royal chamber.  How sweetly you burn in the King’s embraces, when the Sun blazes though you, never letting your noble flower fall.  Gentle maiden, you will never know the shadow over the falling flower!

Virtues:

The flower of the fields fails in the wind, the rain splashes it.  But you, Virginity, remain in the symphonies of heavenly habitants; you are the tender flower that will never grow dry.

Innocence:

My flock, flee from the Devil’s taints!

Virtues:

We shall flee them, if you give us aid.

Contempt-for-the-World:

I, Contempt-for-the-World, am the heat life.  Oh wretched, exiled state on earth, with all your toils – I let you go.  Come to me, you Virtues, and we will climb up to the fountain of life!

Virtues:

Glorious lady, you that always fight the battles of Christ, oh great power that treads the world under your feet, you thereby dwell in heaven, victoriously!

Heavenly Love:

I am the golden gate fixed in heaven; whoever passes through me will never taste bitter rebelliousness in her mind.

Virtues:

Royal daughter, you are held fast in the embraces the world shuns; how tender is your love in the highest God!

Discipline:

I am the one who loves innocent ways that know nothing ignoble; I always gaze upon the King of kings and, as my highest honor, I embrace him.

Virtues:

Angelic comrade, how comely you are in the royal nuptials!

Modesty:

I cover over, drive away or tread down all the filths of the Devil.

Virtues:

Yours is a part in the building of heavenly Jerusalem, flowering among shining lilies.

Mercy:

How bitter in human minds is the harshness that does not soften and mercifully ease pain! I want to reach out my hand to all who suffer.

Virtues:

Matchless mother of exiles, you are always raising them up and anointing the poor and the weak.

Victory:

I am Victory, the swift, brave champions I fight with a stone. I tread the ancient serpent down.

Virtues:

Or gentlest warrior, in the scorching fountain that swallowed up the voracious wolf-glorious, crowned-one, how gladly we’ll fight against that deceiver, at your side!

Discretion:

I am discretion, light and moderator of all creatures – the impartiality of God, that Adam drove away by acting wantonly.

Virtues:

Fairest mother, how sweet you are, how gentle – in you no one can be confounded.

Patience:

I am the pillar that can never be made to yield, as my foundation is in God.

Virtues:

You that stay firm in the rocky cavern, you are the glorious warrior who endures all.

Humility:

Daughters of Israel, God raised you from beneath the tree, so now remember how it was planted.  Therefore rejoice, daughters of Jerusalem.

Virtues:

Alas, alas, let us lament and mourn, because our master’s sheep has fled from life!

Soul, lamenting, penitent and calling to the Virtues:

You, royal Virtues, how graceful, how brilliant you look in the highest Sun, and how delectable is your home, and so, what woe is mine that I fled from you!

Virtues:

You who escaped, come to us, and God will take you back.

Soul:

Ah, but a burning sweetness swallowed me up in sins, so I did not dare come in.

Virtues:

Don’t be afraid or run away; the good Shepherd is searching for his lost sheep – it is you.

Soul:

Now I need your help to gather me up – I stink of the wounds that the ancient serpent has made gangrenous.

Virtues:

Run to us, follow those steps where you’ll never falter, in our company; God will heal you.

Soul, penitent to the Virtues:

I am the sinner who fled from life; covered in sores, I come to you — you can offer me redemption’s shield.  All of you, warriors of Queen Humility, her white lilies and her crimson roses, stoop to me, who exiled myself from you like a stranger, and help me, that in the blood of the Son of God I may arise.

Virtues:

Fugitive Soul, now be strong; put on the armor of light.

Soul:

And you, true medicine, Humility, grant me your help, for pride has broken me in many vices, inflicting many scars on me.  Now, I’m escaping to you – so take me up!

Humility:

All you Virtues, lift up this mournful sinner, with all her scars, for the sake of Christ’s wounds, and bring her to me.

Virtues:

We want to bring you back – we shall not desert you, the whole host of heaven will rejoice in you; thus it is right for us to sound our music.

Humility:

Oh unhappy daughter, I want to embrace you; the great surgeon has suffered harsh and bitter wounds for your sake.

Virtues:

Living fountains, how great is your sweetness; you did not reject the gaze of these upon you – no, acutely you foresaw how you could avert them from the fall the angels fell, they who thought they possessed a power which no law allows to be like that.  Rejoice then, daughter Jerusalem, for God is giving you back many whom the serpent wanted to sunder from you, who now gleam in a greater brightness than would have been their state before.

Devil:

Who are you? Where are you coming from? You were in my embrace, I led you out.  Yet now you are going back, defying me – but I shall fight you and bring you down!

Soul, penitent:

I recognized that all my ways were wicked, so I fled you. But now, you deceiver, I will fight you face-to-face.  Queen Humility, come with your medicine, and give me aid!

Humility:

Victory, you who once conquered this creature in the heavens, run now, with all your soldiery, and all of you bind this fiend!

Victory:

Bravest and most glorious warriors, come, help me to vanquish this deceitful one!

Virtues:

Oh sweetest warrior, in the scorching fountain that swallowed up the voracious wolf glorious, crowned one, how gladly we’ll fight against that deceiver, at your side!

Humility:

Bind him then, you shining Virtues!

Virtues:

Queen of us all, we obey you – we shall carry out your orders to the full.

Victory:

Comrades, rejoice; the ancient serpent snake is bound!

Virtues:

Praise be to you, Christ, King of the angels!

Chastity:

In the mind of the Highest, Satan, I trod on your head, and in a virgin form, I nurtured a sweet miracle when the Son of God came into the world; therefore you are laid low, with all your blunder, and now let all who dwell in heaven rejoice, because your belly has been confounded.

Devil:

You don’t know what you are nurturing, for your belly is devoid of the beautiful form that woman receives from man; in this you transgress the command that God enjoined in the sweet act of love; so you don’t even know what you are!

Chastity:

How can what you say affect me?  Even your suggestion smirches it with foulness.  I did bring forth man, who gathers up mankind to himself, against you, through his nativity.

Virtues:

Who are you, God, who held such great counsel in yourself, a counsel that destroyed the draught of hell in publicans and sinners who know shine in paradisal goodness!  Praise to you, King for this! Almighty Father, from you flowed a fountain fiery love; guide your children into a fair wind, sailing the waters, so that we too may steer them in this way into the heavenly Jerusalem.

In the beginning all creation was verdant, flowers blossomed in the midst of it; later, greenness / Viriditas (internal link) sank away.  And, the champion saw this and said:

“I know it, but the golden number is not yet full.  You then, behold me, mirror of your fatherhood; in my body I am suffering exhaustion, even my little ones faint.  Now, remember that the fullness which was made in the beginning need not have grown dry, and that then you resolved that your eye would never fall until you saw my body full of jewels.  For it wearies me that all my limbs are exposed to mockery; Father, behold, I am showing you my wounds.”

So now, all you people, bend your knees o the Father, that he may reach you his hand.

Week 17: Hildegard von Bingen

Week 16: Normans

Please watch: The Battle of Hastings

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The Battle of Hastings

"Then King William came from Normandy into Pevensey, on the eve of the Feast of St. Michael, and as soon as they were fit, made a castle at Hastings market-town. Then this became known to King Harold and he gathered a great raiding-army, and came against him at the grey apple-tree. And William came upon him by surprise before his people were marshalled. Nevertheless the king fought very hard against him with those men who wanted to support him, and there was a great slaughter on either side. There were killed King Harold, and Earl Leofwine his brother, and Earl Gyrth his brother, and many good men. And the French had possession of the place of slaughter, just as God granted them because of the people's sins."

This terse entry in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Worcester MS) for the year 1066 is the only contemporary English account of the Battle of Hastings, an event that can be better understood if one looks back to the millennium, when the country suffered wretchedly from Viking predation. "In every way," records the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Peterborough MS), "it was a heavy time, because they never left off their evil."
Æthelred
In 1002, twenty-four thousand pounds in Danegeld (tax) was paid "on condition they should leave off from their evil deeds." But then, indecisive and badly served by his counselors, and fearful for himself and his kingdom, Æthelred the Unready (a play on his name, Æthelred, "good counsel," and Unraed, "ill-advised") rashly ordered that "all the Danish men who were among the English race to be killed on St. Brice's Day [November 13]." This attack is mentioned in a later charter, which records the restitution made to a monastery in Oxford for the loss of its church, which had been destroyed during the massacre. It relates that the Danes,

"who had sprung up in this island, sprouting like cockle amongst the wheat, were to be destroyed by a most just extermination, and this decree was to be put into effect even as far as death, those Danes who dwelt in the afore-mentioned town, striving to escape death, entered this sanctuary of Christ, having broken by force the doors and bolts, and resolved to make a refuge and defence for themselves therein against the people of the town and the suburbs; but when all the people in pursuit strove, forced by necessity, to drive them out, and could not, they set fire to the planks and burnt, as it seems, this church with its ornaments and its books."

And all those who had taken refuge inside. (William of Jumièges is the first to mention the atrocities: women buried up to their waists and attacked by dogs, children dashed against door-posts.)
That same year, in hope that an alliance with the duchy would deny the Danes safe harbor, Æthelred married Emma, the young daughter of Richard I, Duke of Normandy. It was to no avail, and in 1007 thirty thousand pounds in Danegeld was paid. Ships were built, "more of them than there had ever earlier been in England in the days of any king" to defend the country, but it all came to naught. Wulfnoth (the father of Earl Godwin) actually took some of them and plundered the coast, himself. Others, in an attempt to capture the traitorous thegn, were driven ashore by a storm and their own ships burned. Hearing all this, Æthelred simply returned to London and, in the words of the Chronicler, "thus lightly let the whole nation's labour waste; and the deterrent in which the whole English race had confidence, was no better."
More tax was paid but it never was enough. The harrying continued until, in 1013, Sweyn Forkbeard, the king of Denmark, and his young son Cnut invaded England and "wrought the greatest evil that any raiding-army could do." London submitted and Æthelred and his queen, together with their children, the æthelings (princes) Edward and Alfred, fled to Normandy.
Only a few months later, however, Sweyn died and the exiled family returned. In 1015, Cnut came again to England, determined to reclaim the country for Denmark. Æthelred and his son by his first marriage, Edmund Ironside, resisted, but "it did not achieve any more than it often did before." The next year, "after great toil and difficulties in this life," the hapless king died. Edmund, too, died that year and in 1016 Cnut succeeded to the throne of England, taking the widowed Emma as his consort the next year, while her children remained exiled in Normandy.
The Succession
When Edward himself was recalled to England in 1041, he had been at the Norman court for twenty-four years. There, among his mother's family, he had made friends, with whom he surrounded himself when he became king the next year, especially Robert, who was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury in 1051. As a result, relates the anonymous author of the Vita Ædwardi Regis ("Life of King Edward"), "he offended quite a number of the nobles of his kingdom by means of another's fault. And for such reasons his realm gradually became disturbed." Especially resentful of the undue influence of these Norman favorites was the most powerful magnate in the land: Godwin, Earl of Wessex.
That same year, an incident at Dover almost brought the country to civil war. Eustace, Count of Boulogne, who was married to Edward's sister and later would fight at Hastings, had demanded accommodation for his entourage on the return to France. It was not given; there was a fight and men were killed on both sides. Edward demanded that Godwin punish the town for its insolence. When the earl refused, he was exiled, together with his sons. It was during this absence that Duke William is said to have visited the king and presumably then that Edward promised him the kingdom. Godwin returned in strength the next year and forced a reconciliation but died in 1053 to be succeeded by his son Harold.
Late in 1065, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Abingdon MS) records that Harold's brother Tostig, who had ruled as Earl of Northumbria for ten years, was rejected by his thegns. They rebelled, killing his retainers and seizing the treasury, and demanded that Tostig be replaced "because he robbed God first, and then despoiled of life and of land all those he had power over." Harold acquiesced and Tostig was driven into exile, for which he never forgave his brother.
A devout man but a weak and ineffectual king, whose greatest achievement was the construction of Westminster Abbey, Edward the Confessor died on January 4, 1066. There was no successor nor were there any children. Having been sent abroad as a boy and deprived of his patrimony, his mother having married his father's mortal enemy, Edward regarded Edith his queen, Godwin's only daughter, more as "a beloved daughter" than a wife.
Edward was buried in the abbey he had founded. Hours later, Harold Godwin was himself crowned there, insisting, as William of Poitiers relates, that the kingdom was his by right, bequeathed to him by Edward on his deathbed, and that "the gift that anyone made at the point of death shall be held as valid." William, who had assumed that the throne was his, insisted that Harold was forsworn and prepared to invade. Indeed, such was William's claim that it was blessed by Pope Alexander II, who sent him a banner under which to march.
In April, a comet appeared, though Harold did not need to be told its portent. He had raised the greatest army and fleet that England had ever known. It consisted of his housecarls, the retainers of his own court, and those of the great earls and magnates, as well as the fyrd, a national militia which was conscripted in times of danger. Through July and August, Harold kept his men at the ready along the southern coast of England, waiting for an invasion that never came. In the words of the Chronicle (Abingdon MS), "in the end it was to no avail. Then when it was the Nativity of St Mary [September 8], the men's provisions were gone, and no one could hold them there any longer. Then the men were allowed to go home, and the king rode inland, and the ships were sent to London."
The fyrd was disbanded and the fleet sent around the coast to the Thames. But it was late in the season and a storm destroyed many of the ships. William's own ships, which had been assembled in the estuary of the Dives River just north of Caen, had been sent out as well and they, too, were caught in the storm. Some were lost and the others driven up the coast to the mouth of the Somme River. The result was that, either by accident or design, William had reduced the distance to the English coast almost by half.
But William was not the only claimant to the English throne. The Chronicle relates that, when Harold came ashore, he was informed that Harald Hardrada, the king of Norway, had landed in Northumbria and burned Scarborough to the ground, Snorri Sturluson telling how Harald had built a bonfire on the hill above the town and then pushed it down onto the thatched houses below.
Stamford Bridge
Aided by the northerly winds that kept William on the Norman coast, Harald crossed the North Sea from Bergen and was ravaging the countryside as he advanced upon York, the capital of Northumbria. There, he was met by the fyrd of Earl Edwin and Earl Morcar, who, records the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Worcester MS), "gathered from their earldom as great a force as they could get, and fought with that raiding-army and made a great slaughter." But the English were "killed and drowned and driven in flight; and the Norwegians had possession of the place of slaughter." The battle at Fulford was fought on September 20.
Harold hurried north, "by day and night, as quickly as he could gather his army." Incredibly, he arrived at York only four days later, his army strengthened by levies along the way.

"Then Harold our king came upon the Northmen by surprise, and encountered them beyond York at Stamford Bridge with a great raiding-army of English people; and there was that day a very hard fight on both sides. There was killed Harald [Hardrada] and Earl Tostig, and the Northmen who remained were put to flight, and the English fiercely attacked them from behind until some of them came to the ship, some drowned, and some also burnt, and thus variously perished, so that there were few survivors, and the English had possession of the place of slaughter."

So the Chronicle (Worcester MS) describes the Battle of Stamford Bridge. A more vivid account is provided by Snorri in his saga of Harald Hardrada.
It was a hot, sunny day when Harald, having had his morning meal, ordered his men ashore. A third were to stay on board to guard the ships, while the others, their heavy hauberks left behind, marched toward York "in excellent good spirits." But instead of defeated townsmen coming to offer hostages, they saw a cloud of dust raised by approaching horses and the glint of shields and shining coats of mail, and "it looked like gleaming ice as the weapons shone."
As his men drew up in a defensive ring, Harald was thrown from his horse. Harold Godwin noticed and asked who had fallen. When told that it was the King of Norway, he replied, "A big man and stately; but more likely his good luck has deserted him." Rather than fight his brother, Harold offered to return Northumbria to Earl Tostig. Asked what part of England would be granted to Harald, he was told "seven feet of English soil or so much more as he is taller than other men." Tostig was chastised for having let the king escape but replied that "I would rather that he slay me than I him."
Snorri's mistakenly recounts that the English fought on horseback and, when the Norwegians broke their shield-wall to purse them, turned and rode them down. Harald was said to have raged like a beserker until he, too, was killed by an arrow in the throat. Men from the ships arrived but were so tired from the march that some died from sheer exhaustion. Others, enraged, threw off their hauberks and, unprotected, died all the more readily.
The Norse refused to surrender, and the battle lasted until it was too dark to kill any more. It was the worst defeat ever inflicted on the Norse. Almost sixty years later, Orderic Vitalis recorded that "a great mountain of dead men's bones still lies there and bears witness to the terrible slaughter on both sides." Magnanimously, Harold allowed those who had been guarding the ships to live. Of the three hundred ships said to have sailed to England, only twenty-four were needed to return the survivors home.
(Although the Abingdon MS of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle ends with the Battle of Stamford Bridge, one other incident was added later. It tells of a Norwegian who stood alone on the bridge, holding it against the English advance "so that they could not cross the bridge nor gain victory." He was not dislodged until someone drifted unseen beneath it and stabbed him from below.)
The next day, the wind changed. For the first time in two months, it began to blow steadily from the south. And the day after that, unknown to Harold, William and his army began to embark for England. Harold had guarded the coast all summer. Now, only three weeks before, the fyrd had gone home and he was two hundred and fifty miles away, having fought one of the bloodiest battles in England's history.
On September 28, the Normans would come ashore at Pevensey unopposed.
Hastings
Harold rushed south to London, where, says Orderic, he "sent far and wide to summon the populace to war." The Normans were devastating his former earldom of Wessex and, after waiting in vain for the northern earls to join him, Harold marched his exhausted troops to Hastings, perhaps in the hope that another sudden strike would be victorious.
It is difficult to estimate the number of men and horses that had landed, but, if there were as many as could be placed on the battlefield, then William might have had seven thousand men, comprising perhaps three thousand cavalry, a thousand archers, and the rest infantry. It was the horses that were unexpected. Though the English rode to battle on horses, as they had done at Maldon seventy-five years earlier, they dismounted and fought on foot.
Harold's army comprised at least as many men but had no cavalry and few archers. His housecarls were formidable warriors, "so valiant," Snorri relates, "that one of them was better than two of Harald's best men," but many had been lost at Stamford. And yet, even though John of Worcester chastises Harold for advancing before even a third of his army had assembled, many in the fyrd thought the field already so congested that they left before the battle even began.
The English occupied the high ground along the crest of a ridge on the road to London. It was a strong defensive position, well suited for the Anglo-Saxon shield-wall. The Normans were arrayed below in three divisions: Bretons on the left; the Normans under Duke William and his half-brother Bishop Odo in the center; and the French on the right, together with other mercenaries and adventurers. Each division, in turn, was comprised of three arms: archers in the front to weaken the enemy, foot soldiers to break it up, and behind them all, mounted knights to ride down the scattered ranks.
It was there on the morning of October 14, that William "came upon him by surprise before his people were marshalled." The battle began with the blare of trumpets, the Normans initiating the attack with a volley of arrows. As the archers fell back, the foot-soldiers advanced, but they were repulsed, says William of Poitiers, by a fusillade of "javelins and missiles of various kinds, murderous axes and stones tied to sticks." As the battlecontinued, mounted knights moved forward, but they too were driven back.
There was panic, as first the Bretons and then the whole Norman line reeled and began to give way, fearful that William, himself, had been killed. Pursued by the Saxon fyrd opposite them, they rallied only when William rode into the fray and revealed himself to be alive. Exhorting his men to fight, the English who had broken rank were cut off and annihilated.
Perhaps if the rest of the English had advanced at that moment or if there had been a deliberate retreat to the forest behind them, the outcome of the battle would have been different. Or if they earlier had laid waste to the countryside, denying the Normans fresh supplies while waiting for the northern fyrd to reassemble, which it never did. It was late in the season; reinforcements could not be sent, and the English would become only stronger. But Harold was passive, even fatalistic, and never ordered a concerted attack. On foot, he may not have been able to command such a large force, unlike the Normans, whose three divisions, each with its three arms, were more mobile. Or it may be that Harold was disheartened by the realization that he was under papal interdict and had been excommunicated.
The fighting continued throughout the day, the Normans varying their attack, the English "standing firmly as if fixed to the ground." So stalwart was the English shield-wall that William of Poitiers marveled that "the dead by falling seemed to move more than the living," the wounded unable to extricate themselves from the ranks of their companions.
Remembering what had happened before, William then is said to have ordered his knights to feign retreat. Again, the undisciplined men of the fyrdcharged downhill in pursuit. And again they were trapped and killed, as the cavalry wheeled their horses and turned on them. Dusk now was approaching and the English were exhausted. There was no hope of respite or relief, and Harold and his brothers, Gyrth and Leofwine, had been killed.
Finally, the shield-wall broke. "Some lay helplessly in their own blood, others who struggled up were too weak to escape. The passionate wish to escape death gave strength to some. Many left their corpses in deep woods, many who had collapsed on the routes blocked the way of those who came after."
There was a last stand among a broken rampart and rough ground, where, in the gloom and long grass, the pursuing Normans tripped and fell, "one on top of the other," says Orderic, "in a struggling mass of horses and arms," to be slaughtered by the English on the other side of the ravine. But it was not enough; the battle had been lost. And "the mangled bodies that had been the flower of the English nobility and youth covered the ground as far as the eye could see."
On Christmas Day 1066, less than three months after landing at Pevensey, William was crowned king of England. At the coronation, William of Poitiers writes that the English "all shouted their joyful assent, with no hesitation, as if heaven had granted them one mind and one voice." The Normans added their own voices as well, and the guards outside the Abbey, "hearing the loud clamour in an unknown tongue, thought some treachery was afoot and rashly set fire to houses near to the city." The fire spread from house to house, says Orderic, as those in the congregation frantically rushed outside, some to fight the fames, others to loot. Only the bishops and a few clergy remained to complete the consecration of the new king, who was seen to be "trembling from head to foot."
So began William's reign: with fires burning all around him. And so would England burn for five more years until it finally was subjugated. Theplundering of the country's wealth would begin immediately.

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"When King Cnute had reigned for twenty years, he departed this life at Shaftesbury and was buried at Winchester in the Old Minster. A few words must be devoted to the power of this king. Before him there had never been in England a king of such great authority. He was lord of all Denmark, of all England, of all Norway, and also of Scotland. In addition to the many wars in which he was most particularly illustrious, he performed three fine and magnificent deeds....The third, that when he was at the height of his ascendancy, he ordered his chair to be placed on the sea-shore as the tide was coming in. Then he said to the rising tide, 'You are subject to me, as the land on which I am sitting is mine, and no one has resisted my overlordship with impunity. I command you, therefore, not to rise on to my land, nor to presume to wet the clothing or limbs of your master.' But the sea came up as usual, and disrespectfully drenched the king's feet and shins. So jumping back, the king cried, 'Let all the world know that the power of kings is empty and worthless, and there is no king worthy of the name save Him by whose will heaven, earth and sea obey eternal laws.' Thereafter King Cnut never wore the golden crown on his neck, but placed it on the image of the crucified Lord, in eternal praise of God the great king. By whose mercy may the soul of Kng Cnut enjoy rest."

Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum (VI.17)

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The Anglo-Norman historians, together with the Bayeux Tapestry, provide the primary sources for the Battle of Hastings. Two other anonymous sources are important but vexing.

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References: The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (1996) translated and edited by Michael Swanton; The Gesta Normannorum Ducum of William Jumièges, Orderic Vitalis, and Robert of Torigni (1992) edited and translated by Elisabeth M. C. Van Houts (Oxford Medieval Texts); The Gesta Guillelmi of William of Poitiers (1998) edited and translated by R. H. C. Davis and Marjorie Chibnall (Oxford Medieval Texts); The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis (1969) edited and translated by Marjorie Chibnall (Oxford Medieval Texts); Encomium Emmae Reginae (1949/1998) edited by Alistair Campbell and introduction by Simon Keynes; William of Malmesbury: Gesta Regum Anglorum: The History of the English Kings (1998) edited and translated by R. A. B. Mynors, R. M. Thomson, and M. Winterbottom (Oxford Medieval Texts); The Chronicle of John of Worcester: The Annals from 450 to 1066 (1995) edited by R. R. Darlington and P. McGurk, translated by Jennifer Bray and P. McGurk (Oxford Medieval Texts);Snorri Sturluson: Heimskringla: History of the Kings of Norway (1964) translated by Lee M. Hollander; King Harald's Saga: Harald Hardradi of Norway (1966) translated by Magnus Magnusson and Hermann Pálsson (Penguin); The Carmen de Hastingae Proelio of Guy, Bishop of Amiens(1972) edited by Catherine Morton and Hope Muntz (Oxford Medieval Texts); Henry, Archdeacon of Huntington: Historia Anglorum: The History of the English People (1996) edited and translated by Diana Greenway; The Life of King Edward Who Rests at Westminster: Attributed to a Monk of St. Bertin (1992) edited and translated by Frank Barlow (Oxford Medieval Texts).
William the Conqueror (1964) by David C. Douglas; Historical Writing in England c.550 to c.1307 (1974) by A. Gransden; The World of Orderic Vitalis (1984) by Marjorie Chibnall (Oxford); English Historical Documents c. 500-1042 (1979) edited by Dorothy Whitelock; English Historical Documents 1042-1189 (1953) edited by David C. Douglas and George W. Greenaway; 1066: The Year of the Conquest (1978) by David Howarth;The Year of the Conquest (1966) by Alan Lloyd; The Battle of Hastings (1998) by Jim Bradbury; William I and the Norman Conquest (1965) by Frank Barlow; Edward the Confessor (1970) by Frank Barlow; Reassessing Anglo-Saxon England (1996) by Eric John; The Bayeux Tapestry: A Comprehensive Survey (1965) edited by Sir Frank Stenton; The Bayeux Tapestry (1985) by David M. Wilson; The Bayeux Tapestry (1994) by Wolfgang Grape; Anglo-Saxon Art: A New Perspective (1982) by C. R. Dodwell.

Source:  http://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/britannia/anglo-saxon/hastings/hastings.html.