Guillaume Malet is another shadowy figure. For a start, there is no concrete evidence that he was in England prior to the Conquest, although for the purposes of this book I have followed the traditional belief that he was. There was certainly a significant influx of Normans during the early years of King Eadward’s reign (1042–66). Eadward had grown up in exile in Normandy and so when he returned to England to take the throne, a number of prominent positions were filled with his Norman supporters. If Malet was in England before 1066, he could have come over at this time, or else might later have inherited land from his English mother. It is true that he held a manor at Alkborough in 1069, although its destruction by Northumbrian rebels en route to York is again my own invention.
Regarding the rest of Malet’s family we know surprisingly little for certain. There is no consensus on the number of the children that Malet had with Elise, their relative ages, or even (remarkably) on all their names. For the purposes of this novel, however, I have followed the family tree outlined by Cyril Hart in his article, ‘William Malet and his Family’ (Anglo-Norman Studies, vol. 19, 1996). Robert Malet is certainly known to have existed, as is Beatrice, although I have altered some of the details of her life.
The exact nature of Malet’s relationship with Harold Godwineson is also open to debate. He is described by one source as Harold’s compater, which historians have usually taken to mean that the two were co-sponsors at a baptism, although whose baptism, and when, is impossible to determine. Whether this acquaintance ever developed into full friendship is another matter. At the very least we know that when events came to a head in 1066, it was on the Norman side that Malet fought, so if any friendship did exist between him and Harold, it could not have lasted long.
The story of Malet’s involvement with Eadgyth, and his role in Harold’s burial, is based on a combination of two historical traditions. The first comes from our earliest account of the Conquest, the Carmen de Hastingae Proelio (Song of the Battle of Hastings), which mentions a man half-English, half-Norman whom the Norman duke made responsible for the burial. The same story is told by the chronicler William of Poitiers, who identifies this man as Guillaume Malet.
The second tradition is much later, originating with the twelfth-century Waltham Chronicle, which records that it was Eadgyth who was called upon to identify Harold amid the corpses on the battlefield at Hastings. This she was able to do because of her intimate knowledge of ‘certain marks’ on his body, which historians have usually presumed to mean old battle-scars, or else birthmarks.
Many other, often contradictory tales regarding Harold’s death and burial emerged in the generations following the Conquest. As a result Harold’s final resting place is unknown even today. One contender is Waltham Abbey, which Harold himself refounded in 1060, and which is named by both the historian William of Malmesbury and the canonry’s own Waltham Chronicle. But the Carmen tells an entirely different story, in which instead of being accorded a Christian burial, Harold is interred in pagan fashion beneath a stone tumulus, overlooking the sea. According to this version of events, a tombstone was erected by his grave, on which was inscribed the message: ‘You rest here, Harold, by order of the duke, so that you may still be guardian of the sea and the shore.’ However, the author of the Carmen neglects to reveal the actual location of this tumulus – if, indeed, there ever was one.
More recently a claim for Harold’s resting place has been put forward by John Pollock in his pamphlet Harold: Rex (Penny Royal, 1996) for Bosham, Sussex, the home of the Godwine family, after a stone coffin was uncovered beneath the chancel arch of Holy Trinity Church during repair work in 1954. Inside this coffin were the partial skeletal remains of a man, the condition of which Pollock contends matches the description of the injuries sustained by Harold at Hastings, as related in the Carmen and depicted in part on the Bayeux Tapestry. The fact that no contemporary account makes any mention of Bosham is a problem, admittedly, though at the same time it is entirely consistent with the notion that King Guillaume might have wanted to keep the location of Harold’s tomb a secret to prevent it becoming a focus for rebellion. Unfortunately, while Pollock presents a compelling argument, it is difficult to prove for certain. The true fate of Harold’s body, now as in 1069, remains a mystery.
As a final note, the poetry recited by ?lfwold and translated by Eudo in chapter twenty-two is excerpted from an actual Anglo-Saxon text known to scholars as ‘The Wanderer’. Perhaps appropriately, the poem tells the tale of a warrior whose lord and comrades have been killed in battle, and deals with his sorrow and his struggle to find redemption.
Sworn Sword reaches its climax with King Guillaume’s successful relief of York in March 1069. But as will soon become clear, this is only the beginning of the unrest that the Normans will face, and so Tancred’s fight will continue.
Acknowledgements
WRITING A NOVEL can at times seem like a solitary affair, but the truth is that I could not have managed without the help and support of a great many people.