Subscribe now for full access and no adverts
It’s a rip-roaring start, with three deaths in five pages as Harald Hardrada (or Haraldr Sigurdarson as he’s termed here), Tostig (wayward brother of Harold Godwinson), and an unnamed farmer all get decapitated. We start on a battlefield, yet not Hastings (too obvious) but Stamford Bridge, the final eliminator for the English throne in 1066.
Published to coincide with the Bayeux Tapestry’s first foray to UK shores in almost a millennium, Dr Goeres’ inaugural book for the general reader seeks to tell a new history of 1066 through analysis of sources from the regions that contested the throne: England, Normandy, and Scandinavia. 1066 is one of the most recognisable dates for Brits – the year of three kings and three battles. And, in a nod to 2026 being a World Cup year, it was Stamford Bridge (not the stadium) that hosted the semi-final. But we should not take everything as read, and an early reference to Wessex as a south-eastern kingdom perplexed this reader: I would have said ‘southern’.
Folk sometimes erroneously think 1066 was all about Harold and William, but there were other major players and contenders, and Goeres serves Hardrada and Tostig well with detailed pen portraits that put flesh on bones. This pivotal year was as much about them as the two who contested the final at Battle (near Hastings) or a slew of other possible sites mentioned by the author. She makes us question what little we thought we knew, and that’s good. Hardrada’s failure to conquer Denmark becomes a big story. It provides the motivation for one last tilt at a kingdom: England. He may have been past his best, but the Norwegian king wanted his legacy.
There was a quarter-final first, however, at Gate Fulford (according to Goeres, a field we haven’t located – though I recall a report on the BBC a few years ago in which the battlefield was threatened by a modern enemy: housing. Modern battlelines were drawn – preserving a historic site or providing homes. The presenters favoured homes and, according to online reporting, ‘the specific battleground at Germany Beck is now the site of a major residential development’). Here, Hardrada triumphed against the northern earls Edwin and Morcar, assumed he had his route to the kingdom, and fatefully dropped his guard. One thing Goeres does well is emphasise the polyglot nature of the armies. This was never a simple case of Norwegians and English belting one another, followed by English and Normans.
I like the way the book deals with the northern threat first, so splatters the gore in the set-pieces of Gate Fulford and Stamford Bridge, leaving Tostig and Hardrada mutilated before William of Normandy has really introduced himself. This means events are presented out of sequence, with the vexed question of Harold’s alleged oath to William getting its airing only after Hardrada’s been kippered. It works, however, as we get the semi-final (and any disappointment) out of our systems before looking to the final.
One enduring legend is Harold’s long march south to Hastings, although this may have been more Victorian myth-making than reality (see MHM 153, August/September 2026). More recent research suggests the English navy played a significant role, with the bulk of Harold’s forces sailing down the coast, although there probably was still an advance party riding/marching south. Goeres mentions only briefly that some soldiers sailed south; I would have liked more on the latest thinking. We are left with a fairly traditional account of the campaign and battle, though the author does well in emphasising what a close-run thing it was. Had the English held on till nightfall, the arrival of reinforcements would have meant victory was theirs.
All told, this is a worthy addition to the lexicon of 1066. It’s readable, enjoyable, exciting, and thought-provoking.
REVIEW BY STEPHEN ROBERTS
Nineteen Days in Autumn: a new history of 1066
Erin Goeres
Viking, hbk, 320pp (£25)
ISBN 978-0241754887
