tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69318472024-03-19T02:24:41.948-07:00Ram's BlogRam Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.comBlogger227125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-72726348421392694562022-02-05T12:30:00.001-08:002022-02-05T12:30:14.966-08:00Harald Hardrada - Introduction<p>Harald
Harðráði is a real person who appears in several historical traditions and
languages: the Icelandic Heimskringla; the East Slavic Tale of Bygone Years; the Byzantine Greek Chronographia; the Old English Anglo
Saxon Chronicle; the Church Latin Deeds of the Bishops of Hamburg. This is his
story, as told by the people who knew him.</p><p><br /></p><p>-- Ram Sadasiv</p><w:sdt id="-2036181933" prefixmappings="xmlns:ns0='http://schemas.microsoft.com/office/2006/coverPageProps' " storeitemid="X_55AF091B-3C7A-41E3-B477-F2FDAA23CFDA" text="t" title="Abstract" xpath="/ns0:CoverPageProperties[1]/ns0:Abstract[1]">
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr></i></p></w:sdt>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-44286303213450456142022-02-05T12:28:00.000-08:002022-02-05T12:28:06.829-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 1: 1015<p> </p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="Author">It all
started with a woman, because, of course it did. Olof of Sweden had a daughter
of marriageable age, Ingegerd. My half-brother Olaf wooed her, but instead of
giving Ingegerd to Olaf, Olof gave her to another suitor, Yaroslav, along with Olof’s
Swedish dominions in Rus'. This alienated Olaf, but eventually Olaf accepted
Olof’s younger daughter Astrid, along with some empty promises about future
political arrangements, and declared himself satisfied.</p>
<p class="Author">So Olaf
and Yaroslav were allies but … it was awkward.</p>
<h2>Heimskrinlga<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla">When
Olaf Haraldson grew up he was not tall, but middle-sized in height, although
very thick, and of good strength. He had light brown hair, and a broad face,
which was white and red. He had particularly fine eyes, which were beautiful
and piercing, so that one was afraid to look him in the face when he was angry.
Olaf was very expert in all bodily exercises, understood well to handle his
bow, and was distinguished particularly in throwing his spear by hand: he was a
great swimmer, and very handy, and very exact and knowing in all kinds of
smithwork, whether he himself or others made the thing. He was distinct and
acute in conversation, and was soon perfect in understanding and strength. He
was beloved by his friends and acquaintances, eager in his amusements, and one
who always liked to be the first, as it was suitable he should be from his
birth and dignity. He was called Olaf the Great.</p>
<h2>Tale of Bygone Years<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="TalesofBygoneYears">Yaroslav
wiped away his tears, and informed his subjects in the assembly that his father
was dead, and that Svyatopolk had settled in Kiev after killing his brethren.
Then the men of Novgorod said, “We can still fight for you, oh Prince, even
though our brethren are slain.” So Yaroslav collected one thousand Varangians
and forty thousand other soldiers, and marched against Svyatopolk.</p>
<p class="TalesofBygoneYears">Now
it was already beginning to freeze. Svyatopolk was stationed between two lakes,
and caroused with his fellows the whole night through. Yaroslav on the morrow
marshaled his troops, and crossed over toward dawn. His forces disembarked on the
shore, and pushed the boats out from the bank. The two armies advanced to the
attack, and met upon the field. The carnage was terrible. Because of the lake,
the Pechenegs could bring no aid, and Yaroslav's troops drove Svyatopolk with
his followers toward it. When the latter went out upon the ice, it broke under
them, and Yaroslav began to win the upper hand. Svyatopolk then fled among the
Lyakhs, while Yaroslav established himself in Kiev upon the throne of his
father and his grandfather. Yaroslav had then been in Novgorod twenty-eight
years.</p>
<h2>Heimskrinlga<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla">The
poet Sigvatr came to Jarl Rǫgnvaldr’s and stayed there with good entertainment
for a long time. Then he learned from letters sent by the king’s daughter
Ingigerðr that messengers of King Jarizleifr had come from the east from
Hólmgarðr to King Ólofr of the Svíar to ask for the hand of the king’s daughter
Ingigerðr on behalf of Jarizleifr, and this too, that King Ólofr had received
this very favourably. Then there also came to Jarl Rǫgnvaldr’s court King Ólofr’s
daughter Ástríðr. Then there was held a great banquet there. Then a great deal
was discussed. Jarl Rǫgnvaldr asked whether King Óláfr would be willing to
marry Ástríðr. </p>
<p class="Heimskringla">“And
if he is willing,” he says, “then I suppose that about this match we shall not
enquire of the king of the Svíar.”</p>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">The
king’s daughter Ástríðr said the same thing.</span>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-59736736929788808662022-02-05T12:26:00.008-08:002022-02-05T12:26:58.008-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 2: 1026<p> </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So there
you have it, my two most significant father figures; my half-brother and
predecessor as King, and my future father-in-law and source of my wealth. Olaf
was geographically and genetically closer, so he was the more influential early
on.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Olaf was a
good Viking: he fought, plundered, and ruled for 15 years as King of Norway,
but he was baptized on one of his trips to Normandy and he became filled with a
missionary zeal that he imposed on the local farmers with a heavy hand. Cnut
and pagan nobles conspired with the bondsmen to drive out Olaf. Olaf fled to
the east and stayed in Rus' two winters.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King
Olaf punished great and small with equal severity, which appeared to the chief
people of the country too severe; and animosity rose to the highest when they
lost relatives by the king's just sentence, although they were in reality
guilty. This was the origin of the hostility of the great men of the country to
King Olaf, that they could not bear his just judgments. He again would rather
renounce his dignity than omit righteous judgment. The accusation against him,
of being stingy with his money, was not just, for he was a most generous man
towards his friends; but that alone was the cause of the discontent raised
against him, that he appeared hard and severe in his retributions. Besides,
King Canute offered great sums of money, and the great chiefs were corrupted by
this, and by his offering them greater dignities than they had possessed
before.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anglo Saxon Chronicle<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
year went King Knute to Denmark with a fleet to the holm by the holy river;
where against him came Ulf and Eglaf, with a very large force both by land and
sea, from Sweden. There were very many men lost on the side of King Knute, both
of Danish and English; and the Swedes had possession of the field of battle.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
is to be related of King Olaf's journey, that he went first from Norway
eastward through Eid forest to Vermaland, then to Vatnsby, and through the
forests in which there are roads, until he came out in Nerike district. There
dwelt a rich and powerful man in that part called Sigtryg, who had a son, Ivar,
who afterwards became a distinguished person. Olaf stayed with Sigtryg all
spring; and when summer came he made ready for a journey, procured a ship for
himself, and without stopping went on to Russia to King Jarizleifr, and his
queen Ingegerd.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-32980467875601245812022-02-05T12:26:00.000-08:002022-02-05T12:26:02.541-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 3: 1030<p> </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was but
a boy when I left home. I thought I was a man, but I was 15 years old, so what
did I know. I lived in Ringerike, the fertile river valleys that empty in to
Oslofjord. We farmed; oats, barley, hay for the animals, vegetable garden of
cabbage, kale, and carrots. When the salmon <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were running we would spread our nets across
the mouth of the river, haul them back, full of fish, to be sliced open,
gutted, and hung out to dry. When the caribou came we hunted them in the hills.
The rest of the time we did chores and told ourselves tales of gods and heroes to
keep the boredom at bay. When the broken war arrow arrived announcing Olaf’s
return I collected all the youth of the village, we armed ourselves with field
axes and whatever would pass for a sword, and we went down to Olsofjord, to
join up with Olaf and reclaim the kingdom of Norway.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We left
the </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Oslofjord</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> and marched through Sweden,
over the mountains, and into the hills above Trondheim, looking down at our
enemies in the valley below.</span></p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The battle cry of Olaf's men was:</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Fram! Fram! Kristmenn, krossmenn, kongsmenn!”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="Wikipedia"><i>“Fight, Fight, Christians, Crossmen, Kingsmen!”</i></p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The cry of the opposing army was:</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Fram! Fram! Bonder!</span>”<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="Author"><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Fight,
Fight, Farmers!”</span></i></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">You can
guess whose war cry was more effective – even the troops on our side identified
as <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>farmers before they identified as
Christians, and they fought accordingly. The lines broke, Olaf was slain, and
the troops that could ran off into the woods.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My friends
and I made our way back to Sweden. We took over a farmhouse for the winter and
by summer we were sailing to Novgorod in the Rus'. Yaroslav welcomed us warmly
and then dispatched us into the field to help him suppress one of the local
rebellions that were endemic to his kingdom.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-45368702491640680812022-02-05T12:24:00.001-08:002022-02-05T12:24:45.370-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 4: 1032<p> </p><h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tale of Bygone Years<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="TalesofBygoneYears"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While
Yaroslav was still at Novgorod, news came to him that the Pechenegs were
besieging Kiev. He then collected a large army of Varangians and Slavs,
returned to Kiev, and entered his city. The Pechenegs were innumerable.
Yaroslav made a sally from the city and marshalled his forces, placing the
Varangians in ·the centre, the men of Kiev on the right flank, and the men of
Novgorod on the left. When they had taken position before the city, the
Pechenegs advanced, and they met on the spot where the metropolitan church of
St. Sophia now stands. At that time, as a matter of fact, there were fields
outside the city. The combat was fierce, but toward evening Yaroslav with
difficulty won the upper hand. The Pechenegs fled in various directions, but as
they did not know in what quarter to flee, they were drowned, some in the
Setoml', some in other streams, while the remnant of them disappeared from that
day to this.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<span class="Heading2Char"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yaroslav
was a master bullshitter.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Harald,
you have a unique talent. I am truly grateful for the help you gave me against
the Pechenegs. To show my appreciation I have traded you and all of your
companions to Byzantium in lieu of my annual tribute to the empire.”</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He equipped
us with a fleet of refurbished dugout canoes, pointed us south down the Dnieper,
and wished us great success in our future endeavors.</span></p>
<h2>De Administrando Imperio<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
monoxyla which come down from outer Russia to Constantinople are from Novgorod,
where Sviatoslav, son of Igor, prince of Russia, had his seat, and others from
the city of Smolensk and from Teliutza and Chernigov and from Vyshegrad. All
these come down the river Dnieper, and are collected together at the city of
Kiev, also called Sambatas. Their Slav tributaries, the so-called Krivichians
and the Lenzanenes and the rest of the Slavonic regions, cut the monoxyla on
their mountains in time of winter, and when they have prepared them, as spring
approaches, and the ice melts, they bring them on to the neighbouring lakes.
And since these lakes<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>debouch
into the river Dnieper, they enter thence on to this same river, and come down
to Kiev, and draw the ships<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>along
to be finished and sell them to the Russians.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Russians buy these bottoms only,
furnishing them with oars and rowlocks and other tackle from their old
monoxyla, which they dismantle; and<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>so
they fit them out. And in the month of June they move off down the river
Dnieper and come to Vitichev, which is a tributary city of the Russians, and
there they gather during two or three days; and when all the monoxyla are
collected together, then they set out, and come down the said Dnieper river.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And first they come to the first
barrage, called Essoupi, which means in Russian and Slavonic “Do not sleep!”;
the barrage itself is as narrow as the width of the Polo-ground; in the middle
of it are rooted high rocks, which stand out like islands. Against these, then,
comes the water and wells up and dashes down over the other side, with a mighty
and terrific din. Therefore the Russians do not venture to pass between them,
but put in to the bank hard by, disembarking the men on to dry land leaving the
rest of the goods on board the monoxyla; they then strip and, feeling with
their feet to avoid striking on a rock. This they do, some at the prow, some
amidships, while others again, in the stern, punt with poles; and with all this
careful procedure they pass this first barrage, edging round under the
river-bank.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When they have passed this barrage,
they re-embark the others from the dry land and sail away, and come down to the
second barrage, called in Russian Oulvorsi, and in Slavonic Ostrovouniprach,
which means “the Island of the Barrage”. This one is like the first, awkward
and not to be passed through. Once again they disembark the men and convey the
monoxyla past, as on the first occasion. Similarly they pass the third barrage
also, called Gelandri, which means in Slavonic “Noise of the Barrage”, and then
the fourth barrage, the big one, called in Russian Aeifor, and in Slavonic
Neasit, because the pelicans nest in the stones of the barrage. At this barrage
all put into land prow foremost, and those who are deputed to keep the watch
with them get out, and off they go, these men, and keep vigilant watch for the
Pechenegs. The remainder, taking up the goods which they have on board the
monoxyla, conduct the slaves in their chains past by land, six miles, until
they are through the barrage. Then, partly dragging their monoxyla, partly
portaging them on their shoulders, they convey them to the far side of the
barrage; and then, putting them on the river and loading up their baggage, they
embark themselves, and again sail off in them.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When they come to the fifth barrage,
called in Russian Varouforos, and in Slavonic Voulniprach, because it forms a
large lake, they again convey their monoxyla through at the edges of the river,
as at the first and second barrages, and arrive at the sixth barrage, called in
Russian Leanti, and in Slavonic Veroutzi, that is “the Boiling of the Water”,
and this too they pass similarly. And thence they sail away to the seventh
barrage, called in Russian Stroukoun, and in Slavonic Naprezi, which means
'Little Barrage'. This they pass at the so-called ford of Vrar, where the
Chersonites cross over from Russia and the Pechenegs to Cherson; which ford is
as wide as the Hippodrome, and, measured upstream from the bottom as far as the
rocks break surface, a bow-shot in length.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is at this point, therefore, that
the Pechenegs come down and attack the Russians. After traversing this place,
they reach the island called St. Gregory, on which island they perform their
sacrifices because a gigantic oak-tree stands there; and they sacrifice live
cocks. Arrows, too, they peg in round about, and others bread and meat, or
something of whatever each may have, as is their custom. They also throw lots
regarding the cocks, whether to slaughter them, or to eat them as well, or to
leave them alive.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">From this island onwards the Russians
do not fear the Pecheneg until they reach the river Selinas. So then they start
off thence and sail for four days, until they reach the lake which forms the
mouth of the river, on which is the island of St. Aitherios. Arrived at this island,
they rest themselves there for two or three days. And they re-equip their
monoxyla with such tackle as is needed, sails and masts and rudders, which they
bring with them. Since this lake is the mouth of this river, as has been said,
and carries on down to the sea, and the island of St. Aitherios lies on the
sea, they come thence to the Dniester river, and having got safely there they
rest again.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But when the weather is propitious,
they put to sea and come to the river called Aspros, and after resting there
too in like manner, they again set out and come to the Selinas, to the
so-called branch of the Danube river. And until they are past the river
Selinas, the Pechenegs keep pace with them. And if it happens that the sea
casts a monoxylon on shore, they all put in to land, in order to present a
united opposition to the Pechenegs. But after the Selinas they fear nobody,
but, entering the territory of Bulgaria, they come to the mouth of the Danube.
From the Danube they proceed to the Konopas, and from the Konopas to
Constantia, and from Constantia to the river of Varna, and from Varna they come
to the river Ditzina, all of which are Bulgarian territory. From the Ditzina
they reach the district of Mesembria, and there at last their voyage, fraught
with such travail and terror, such difficulty and danger, is at an end.</span></p>
<p class="DeAdministrandoImperio"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The severe manner of life of these same
Russians in winter-time is as follows. When the month of November begins, their
chiefs together with all the Russians at once leave Kiev and go off on
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">poliudia</i>, which means “rounds”,
that is, to the Slavonic regions of the Vervians and Drugovichians and
Krivichians and Severians and the rest of the Slavs who are tributaries of the
Russians. There they are maintained throughout the winter, but then once more,
starting from the month of April, when the ice of the Dnieper river melts, they
come back to Kiev. They then pick up their monoxyla, as has been said above,
and fit them out, and come down to Romania.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-59414825956615165332022-02-05T12:22:00.008-08:002022-02-05T12:22:51.411-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 5: 1034<p> </p><h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Along
the shore the cool shower<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">shoved
the black prow of the warship<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">strongly,
and the shielded vessels<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">splendidly
bore their tackle<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
mighty prince saw Mikligarðr’s <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">metal
roofs before the forestem. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Many
fair-sided ships headed <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">to
the high city rampart.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At
that time the Greek empire was ruled by the Empress Zoe the Great, and with her
Michael Catalactus. Now when Harald came to Constantinople he presented himself
to the empress, and went into her pay; and immediately, in autumn, went on
board the galleys manned with troops which went out to the Greek sea. Harald
had his own men along with him. Now Harald had been but a short time in the
army before all the Varings flocked to him, and they all joined together when
there was a battle. It thus came to pass that Harald was made chief of the
Varings.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I showed
up in Byzantium, introduced myself to the empress; she put me in the Varangian
Guard and I fucked her that night. Zoë Porphyrogenita – born to the purple. Fifty
years old, didn’t look a day over forty five, liked to fuck and needed a son by
any means necessary. Dangerous, no doubt: her second husband murdered her first
husband, she conspired with her second husband’s brother to murder her second
husband, and she paid me kill her adopted son who was also the nephew of her
second husband and her second husband’s brother. One hell of a woman.</span></p>
<h2><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wikipedia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Wikipedia"><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Varangian_Guard"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Varangian_Guard</span></a></p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Varangian Guard</span> (<a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greek_language" title="Greek language"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Greek</span></a>: <span lang="EL" style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EL; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Τάγμα τῶν Βαράγγων</span>, <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Tágma tōn Varángōn</span></i>) was an elite unit of the <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byzantine_Army" title="Byzantine Army"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Byzantine Army</span></a> from
the tenth to the fourteenth century. The members served as personal bodyguards
to the <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byzantine_emperors" title="Byzantine emperors"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Byzantine emperors</span></a>. The Varangian Guard was known for being
primarily composed of recruits from northern Europe, including mainly <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norsemen" title="Norsemen"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Norsemen</span></a> from
Scandinavia but also <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anglo-Saxon" title="Anglo-Saxon"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Anglo-Saxons</span></a> from England.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norsemen" title="Norsemen"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Norse</span></a> Varangian guardsmen were recognized by long hair, a
red ruby set in the left ear and ornamented dragons sewn on their chainmail
shirts</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The Varangians relied on the broad-bladed <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dane_axe" title="Dane axe"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Dane axe</span></a> as
their main weapon, although they were often also skilled swordsmen or archers.
The guard was stationed primarily around Constantinople, and may have been
barracked in the <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bucoleon_palace" title="Bucoleon palace"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Bucoleon palace</span></a> complex.</p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Alexiad<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Varangians, too, who carried their axes on their shoulders, regarded their
loyalty to the Emperors and their protection of the imperial persons as a
pledge and ancestral tradition, handed down from father to son, which they keep
inviolate and will certainly not listen to even the slightest word about
treachery.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">John Julius Norwich<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Norwich"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
loyalty of the Varangians became a trope of Byzantine writers. Writing about
her father </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexius_I" title="Alexius I"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Alexius</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">'s seizing of the Imperial
throne in 1081, </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Komnene" title="Anna Komnene"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Anna Komnene</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> notes
that he was advised not to attack the Varangians who still guarded the
Emperor </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikephoros_III_Botaneiates" title="Nikephoros III Botaneiates"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Nikephoros</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> for the Varangians “regard
loyalty to the emperors and the protection of their persons as a family
tradition, a kind of sacred trust”. This allegiance, she noted, “they preserve
inviolate, and will never brook the slighted hint of betrayal”. Unlike the
native Byzantine guards so mistrusted by Basil II, the Varangian guards'
loyalties lay with the position of Emperor, not the man who sat on the throne.
This was made clear in 969 when the guards failed to avenge the death by
assassination of Emperor </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikephoros_II" title="Nikephoros II"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Nikephoros II</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.
A servant had managed to call for the guards while the Emperor was being
attacked, but when they arrived he was dead. They immediately knelt
before </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_I_Tzimiskes" title="John I Tzimiskes"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">John Tzimiskes</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, Nikephoros' murderer and
hailed him as Emperor. “Alive they would have defended him to the last breath:
dead there was no point in avenging him. They had a new master now.”</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald
had been three times in the poluta-svarf while he was in Constantinople. It is
the custom, namely, there, that every time one of the Greek emperors dies, the
Varings are allowed poluta-svarf; that is, they may go through all the
emperor's palaces where his treasures are and each may take and keep what he
can lay hold of while he is going through them.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Michael
the Paphlagonian, the Emperor’s personal servant, came out of the bath, soaking
wet:</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">“The
Emperor is dead.”</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">“Long
live the emperor.”</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">“For your
loyalty, take whatever you like from the dead Emperor’s chambers.”</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
date was 12 April 1034 (Good Friday). The emperor was over sixty years of age. </span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
funeral ceremony for the defunct Romanus, who had been laid out on a
magnificent bier, was already prepared, and the whole assembly went out to pay
their respects to their dead emperor in the usual fashion. One of those who
preceded this bier was John the Eunuch, whom I will discuss at the appropriate
point in my history. I saw this funeral procession myself. I had not yet grown
a beard and only recently had I applied myself to the study of the poets.
Examining the dead man, I did not really recognize him, either from his colour
or outward appearance. It was only because of the insignia that I guessed the
dead man had once been emperor. His face was completely altered, not wasted
away, but swollen, and its colour was altogether changed.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I fought
in Sicily. Everyone hated George Manaikes. We landed in Syracuse – beautiful
harbor. The east part of the island was Greek; the Arabs held the south part
and some Normans had landed on the west part. We allied with the Normans and
defeated the Arabs, but then Manaikes pissed off the Normans so much they
deserted and decided to take the island over for themselves, and the Varangian
Guard decided it was time to sail back to Byzantium.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
have seen this man myself, and I wondered at him, for nature had bestowed on
him all the attributes of a man destined to command. He stood ten feet high and
men who saw him had to look up as if at a hill or the summit of a mountain.
There was nothing soft or agreeable abort the appearance of Maniaces. As a
matter of fact, he was more like a fiery whirlwind, with a voice of thunder and
hands strong enough to make walls totter and shake gates of brass. He had the
quick movement of a lion and the scowl on his face was terrible to behold.
Everything else about the man was in harmony with these traits and just what
you would expect. Rumour exaggerated his appearance and the barbarians, to a
man, lived in dread of him.</span></p>
<h2>John Julius Norwich</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #202122; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In Sicily, Messina was the
only city now in Byzantine hands. George Manaikes, assisted by a regiment of
Varangian and the legendary Scandinavian warrior king Harald Hardrada, smashed
his way from one insurgent town to the next in a fury of destruction, leaving a
church trail of smoking ruins and mutilated corpses in his wake. Men and women,
monks and nuns, the aged and the children - none was spared: some were hanged,
some beheaded, many (particularly the children) were burned alive.</span></p>
<h2><span style="background: white;">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="background: white;">Now when Harald came to
Sicily he harried there and with his army laid siege to a great and populous
fortified city. He surrounded the place, because it had strong walls, so that
it seemed unlikely that he could break them down. The townspeople had
sufficient victuals and other things required to resist a siege. Then Harald
hit upon this stratagem: he let his fowlers catch little birds which had their
nests in the city and tie plane shavings of resinous pine soaked with molten
wax and sulphur on their backs, to which he set fire. When liberated, all the
birds at once flew into the city to seek their young and the nests they had
under the thatches of reed or straw. And then the fire spread from the birds to
the house-thatches; and though each single one carried but little fire, it soon
grew to a conflagration, since many birds carried it all about the thatches of
the city; and soon one house after the other began to burn till the whole city
was aflame.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There’s a
conniving eunuch, because, of course there is. He preferred John the
Orphanotrophos (Guardian of the Orphans) because, really, isn’t it all about
the children? In his monks attire he would have been the perfect civil servant,
except for his extreme personal greed.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
is my desire in this history to give a somewhat fuller description of John,
without recourse to empty or lying statements. You see, when I was starting to
grow a beard, I saw the man himself, and I heard him speak and witnessed his
actions. I marked his disposition closely, and I am aware that although some of
his deeds are praiseworthy, there are other things in his life which cannot
meet with general approval. At that time there were many sides to his
character. He had a ready wit, and if ever a man was shrewd, he was; the
piercing glance of his eyes betrayed those qualities. He paid meticulous care
to his duties; in fact, he went to extremes of industry in their performance.
His experience in all branches of government was great, but it was in the administration
of public finance that his wisdom and shrewdness were especially evident. </span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
desire on his part to achieve greater magnificence, and to manage the affairs
of state in a manner more befitting an emperor, was thwarted by his own natural
habits, for, to tell the truth, he never succeeded in ridding himself of his
inveterate greed.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
demands of flattery having been satisfied, John without more ado took the first
step in his master plan.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald <o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He was
greedy for many things: wine, debauchery, money, information, secrets,
knowledge, but above all power; access to power, influencing power, wielding
power, holding power.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
has often been a cause of surprise to me, when I have sat with him at banquets,
to observe how a man, a slave to drink and given to ribaldry, as he was, could
bear the burden of Empire. In his cups he would carefully watch how each of his
fellows behaved. Afterwards, as if he had caught them red-handed, he would
submit them to questioning and examine what they had said and done in their
drunken moments. They came to fear him more, therefore, when he was tipsy than
when he was sober. Indeed, the fellow was an extraordinary mixture. For a long
time he had garbed himself in a monkish monkish habit, but not even in his
dreams did he care one jot for the decent behaviour that befits such a dress.
Yet he acted the part, if long-established custom demanded a certain ritual. As
for those libertines who indulged unrestrainedly in sensual pleasures, John had
nothing but scorn for them. On the other hand, if a man chose to live in a
decent way, or pass his time in the free exercise of virtue, or profit his mind
with scientific studies, he would find in John an implacable foe. The eunuch
would wilfully misrepresent the other’s worthy ambitions in some way or other.
This paradoxical conduct in his dealings with other men was not repeated when
he had to do with the emperor, his brother, for with Michael he preserved one
and the same attitude, never varying, never changing. In his presence there was
no dissimulation at any time.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
emperor agreed that the plan was a good one, and when they informed Zoe of the
scheme, they found it a very simple matter to convince her. So at once they
proceeded to put it into practice. An announcement was made about the public
ceremony, and all the dignitaries were gathered together in the church at
Blachernae.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Accordingly
John set sail. The emperor, meanwhile, watched the sea from a high
vantage-point in the palace, and when the ship carrying his uncle was about to
anchor in the Great Harbour, he gave a signal from above to the sailors, as
they were putting in, to turn about. Actually, this signal had been arranged
beforehand. A second trireme, ready to put to sea and in the wake of the first,
then hailed John’s ship, took him on board, and carried him off to a distant
place of exile.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 2.0pt; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-pagination: widow-orphan lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That was my ship. In the end I blinded
him and imprisoned him in the Monobatae monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-86613045005214467762022-02-05T12:20:00.000-08:002022-02-05T12:20:10.609-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 6: 1043<p> </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Guardian of the Orphans was banished to the monastery of Monobatae.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">John
was blinded in prison on the orders of Michael Cerularius the Patriarch who
never forgave him for his own imprisonment during the reign of Michael IV. The
date was 1043.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Zoe
insisted. She was very convincing.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
I have said, the people revolted against the tyrant, but they were afraid their
efforts might be wasted. His force might get the better of them and the affair
might develop into nothing more than an uproar. Since, therefore, they could
not lay hands on the senior empress — the tyrant had anticipated that move and
he was watching her with all the vigilance of a tax-gatherer waiting to collect
dues from a ship in harbour — they turned their attention to her sister. She
was, after all, the second child of an emperor</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Boldly
they dragged her from the sanctuary, brought her out into the open, and clothed
her in a magnificent robe. Then they made her sit on a horse, and forming a
circle all about her, they led her to the great church of Santa Sophia. Homage
was paid to her, not now by a mere fraction of the people, but by all the elite
as well.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
guard commander was one of the nobles and I myself accompanied him (I was a
personal friend of the man). Actually, he had invited me to advise him and help
in the carrying out of his orders. On our arrival at the doors of the church,
we saw another guard, composed of volunteers, a company of citizens who had
completely surrounded the sacred building. They were ready to do everything but
tear it down. So it was not without difficulty that we made our way into the
church. Along with us a great multitude of folk poured in, roaring abuse at the
accursed fellow. All manner of indecent epithets were hurled at him.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Up
till then I too had gone along with the mob with no particularly moderate
feelings about him. I was not indifferent to his treatment of the empress, and
a certain mild resentment against the man stirred me on my own account. But
when I reached the sacred altar where he was, and saw both the refugees, one,
who had been an emperor, clinging to the actual Holy Table of the Word, the
other, the Nobilissimus, standing on the right of the altar, both with their
clothes changed, their spirit gone and utterly put to shame, then there was no
trace whatever of anger left in my heart. I stood there dumbfounded, mute with
astonishment, as though I had been struck by a hurricane. I was transformed at
the strangeness of the thing. Then, recovering my spirits, I began to curse
this life of ours, in which these strange and terrible things so often come to
pass, and as if some spring had welled up within me, a flood of tears beyond
control poured from my eyes. This outburst finally gave way to groans.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now
the mob that had entered the church gathered in a circle round the two men,
like wild beasts longing to devour them, while I was standing by the latticed
gate on the right of the altar, lamenting.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was in the
mob. We dragged them out of the holy sepulcher and into the street.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Nobilissimus quietly looked round for the man to whom the miserable job had
been entrusted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You there,” he said, “please
make the people stand back. Then you will see how bravely I bear my calamity!” When
the executioner tried to tie him down, to prevent him moving at the moment of
blinding, he said, “Look you. If you see me budge, nail me down!” With these
words he lay flat on his back on the ground. There was no change of colour in
his face, no crying out, no groaning. It was hard to believe the man was still
alive. His eyes were then gouged, one after the other. Meanwhile the emperor,
seeing in the other’s suffering the fate that was about to overtake him too,
lived through Constantine’s anguish in himself, beating his hands together,
smiting his face and bellowing in agony.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Nobilissimus, his eyes gouged out, stood up from the ground and leaned for
support on one of his most intimate friends. He addressed those who came up to
him with great courage — a man who rose superior to the trials that beset him,
to whom death was as nothing. With Michael it was different, for when the
executioner saw him flinch away and lowering himself to base entreaty he bound
him securely. He held him down with considerable force, to stop the violent
twitching when he was undergoing his punishment. After his eyes, too, had been
blinded, the insolence of the mob, so marked before, died away, and with it
their fury against these men.</span></p>
<h2>Heimskringla</h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
these two drápas in honor of Harald, and in many other poems about him, it is
mentioned that Harald put out the eyes of the very emperor of the Greeks. They
might have named a duke or count or some other man of princely rank as having
done it if they knew that to be more true. But Harald himself told this story,
as did the other men who were with him there.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We departed
in full force to find Theodora. Astounded by the unexpectedness of this sight,
she refused at first to give way to their pleading and shut herself up in the
church, deaf to every entreaty. The citizen army, however, giving up all hope
of persuasion, used force, and some of their number, drawing their daggers,
rushed in as if to kill her.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was to
me that Theodora pleaded at the Büyükada Convent. Her pleading was no use, the
mob would accept nothing less than a Porphygenitus to parade back to the palace.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Listening
to her deny the responsibilities of her birth was when I knew I needed to fulfill
my destiny and become King of Norway.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was
time to leave Byzantium. I’d fucked the empress, blinded the emperor; if I
stayed there weren’t many realistic scenarios where I would be able to follow
the example of Zoe’s father and die in my own bed.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
same night King Harald and his men went down to where the galleys of the
Varings lay, took two of them and rowed out into Sjavid sound. When they came
to the place where the iron chain is drawn across the sound, Harald told his
men to stretch out at their oars in both galleys; but the men who were not
rowing to run all to the stern of the galley, each with his luggage in his
hand. The galleys thus ran up and lay on the iron chain. As soon as they stood
fast on it, and would advance no farther, Harald ordered all the men to run
forward into the bow. Then the galley, in which Harald was, balanced forwards
and swung down over the chain; but the other, which remained fast athwart the
chain, split in two, by which many men were lost; but some were taken up out of
the sound. Thus Harald escaped out of Constantinople and sailed thence into the
Black Sea.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tales of Bygone Years<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="TalesofBygoneYears"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yaroslav
sent his son Vladimir to attack Greece, and entrusted him with a large force.
He assigned the command to Vyshata, father of Yan. Vladimir set out by ship,
arrived at the Danube, and proceeded toward Tsar'grad. A great storm arose
which broke up the ships of the Russes; the wind damaged even the Prince's
vessel, and Ivan, son of Tvorimir, Yaroslav's general, took the Prince into his
boat. The other soldiers of Vladimir to the number of six thousand were cast on
shore, and desired to return to Rus', but none of the Prince's retainers went
with them. Then Vyshata announced that he would accompany them, and disembarked
from his vessel to join them, exclaiming, “If I survive, it will be with the
soldiers, and if I perish, it will be with the Prince's retainers.” They thus
set out to return to Rus'. It now became known to the Greeks how the Russes had
suffered from the storm, and the Emperor, who was called Monomakh, sent
fourteen ships to pursue them. When Vladimir and his retainers perceived that
the Greeks were pursuing them, he wheeled about, dispersed the Greek ships, and
returned to Rus' on his ships. But the Greeks captured Vyshata, in company with
those who had been cast on land, and brought them to Tsar'grad, where they
blinded many of the captive Russes.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chronographia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Having
escaped detection, they had already got inside the Propontis when they made
their first proposals for peace, conditional on the payment of an enormous sum
for reparations. They mentioned the actual amount, a thousand staters for each
ship, on the understanding that this money should be counted out to them in one
way only — on one of the ships in their own fleet. Such were the proposals they
put forward, either because they imagined that there were springs of gold in
our domains, or simply because they had decided to fight in any case. The terms
were impossible, purposely so, in order that they could have a plausible excuse
for going to war. So, as their envoys were not even considered worthy of an
answer, both sides prepared for combat. The enemy were so confident in their
own overwhelming numbers that they thought the city, with all its inhabitants,
would surrender.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At
the time our naval forces were below strength and the fireships were scattered
at various naval stations, some here and some there, on guard duty. The emperor
therefore gathered together some hulks of the old fleet and strengthened them with
new thwarts, added some transport vessels used in the imperial service, and got
ready for sea a few triremes, on which he embarked a certain number of fighting
men. After a generous supply of Greek fire had been put aboard these ships, he
ranged them in the opposite harbour to face the Russian vessels. He himself,
with a picked body of senators, spent the night at anchor in the actual
harbour, not far from the shore. A clear declaration of war at sea was made to
the barbarians by a herald, and when day broke Constantine set his fleet in
battle array. The enemy also put to sea from the port on the other side. They
sailed out as if they were leaving a military camp, complete with fortified
rampart. When they were well out from the land, they arranged all their ships
in line, so that they formed a continuous chain stretching across the water
from the harbour on one side to the harbour on the other. They were now ready
to attack us, or, if we made the first assault, to repel us. It was a sight
that produced the most alarming effect on every man who saw it. For my own
part, I was standing at the emperor’s side. He was seated on a hill which
sloped gently down to the sea, watching the engagement from a distance.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Such
then was the order of battle on their side and ours. No attempt was made to
join combat, however, for each fleet remained motionless, with line intact. A
considerable part of the day had already passed, when the emperor signalled two
of our big ships to advance slowly on the enemy. They sailed forward line
abreast, moving beautifully, with the pikemen and stone-throwers cheering aloft
and the hurlers of Greek fire standing by in good order ready to shoot. At
this, several of the Russian vessels left their line and bore down on our ships
at full speed. Then, dividing in two, they circled round each of the triremes
and hemmed them in, while they tried to hole them below deck with long poles.
Our men, meanwhile, engaged them with stones from above and fought them off
with their cutlasses. Greek fire, too, was hurled at them, and the Russians,
being unable to see now, threw themselves into the water, trying to swim back
to their comrades, or else, at a loss what to do, gave up all hope of escape.</span></p>
<p class="Chronographia"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thereupon
a second signal was given and more triremes put out to sea. Other ships
followed or sailed alongside. It was our fleet now that took courage, while the
enemy hove-to in amazement. When the triremes neared the barbarians, the latter
lost all coherence and their line broke. Some had the fortitude to stay where
they were but the majority fled. Suddenly the sun attracted a mist off the low lying
land (most of the horizon consisted of high ground) and the weather changed. A
strong breeze blew from east to west, ploughed up the sea with a hurricane, and
rolled waves down on the Russians. Some of their ships were overwhelmed on the
spot under the weight of tremendous seas; others were driven far away and
hurled on to rocks and precipitous coasts. A certain number of these latter
were hunted down by our triremes. Some they sank in deep water, with the crews
still aboard. The fighting men in the triremes cut others in half and towed
them, partially submerged, to nearby beaches. So a great massacre of barbarians
took place and a veritable stream of blood reddened the sea: one might well
believe it came down the rivers off the mainland.</span></p>
<h2>Harald</h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I escaped from Byzantium and went to see Yaroslav. </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yaroslav remained a master
bullshitter. He’d been hit in the ankle with an arrow, so he limped, but on the
up side he was King of all the Rus' and he had a marriageable daughter. I was
happy to be alive but sad that there was a fortune in gold that I had left
behind. So Yaroslav and I hatched a plan.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One thing
Zoe couldn’t tolerate was not being able to buy anything she wanted. And there
were a lot of things she wanted. Periodically, John the Eunuch would convince
her husband that he should limit Zoe’s spending in the name of saving the
treasury. Now eventually, Zoe’s husbands tended to wind up dead, but Zoe’s
immediate response to being denied in this way was to transfer gold from the
treasury to the lower vaults of her personal palace in </span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Blachernae</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Which is
also where we had the barracks of the Variangian Guard.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yaroslav’s
son took a fleet down the river, and under cover of Vladimir attacking the
palace walls in the Golden Horn I broke into the city, commandeered the cream
of Greek shipbuilding, fucked Zoe one more time for old time’s sake, loaded all
the gold from the </span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Blachernae</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Palace onto the boat, and sailed
away with the remnants of the Variangian Guard.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I raided a
Pecheneg village and made them haul my boats upriver. At Kiev I paid Yaroslav
his share. I took my gold, his daughter, my friends, and all my boats, and
headed north. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<p class="Author"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-26306600968010538012022-02-05T12:17:00.006-08:002022-02-05T12:17:30.437-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 7: 1046<p> </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
oaken keel carved westward</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">the
climbing water from Garðar.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After
that all the Svíar <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">aided
you, bold land-ruler. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Haraldr’s
waterlogged warship <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">went,
with much gold, under <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the
broad sail, listing to leeward— <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">over
the lord broke a furious tempest.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></h2><h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Thou
shalt keep watch, therefore, in case anything happen in the night.”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald
then went away to sleep somewhere else, and laid a billet of wood in his place.
At midnight a boat rowed alongside to the ship's bulwark; a man went on board,
lifted up the cloth of the tent of the bulwarks, went up, and struck in
Harald's bed with a great ax, so that it stood fast in the lump of wood. The
man instantly ran back to his boat again, and rowed away in the dark night, for
the moon was set; but the axe remained sticking in the piece of wood as an
evidence.</span> </p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King
Haraldr gave Steiger-Thorir there at the banquet a mazer bowl. It had a sliver
band around it and a silver handle on top, both gilded, and was completely
filled with pure silver coins. With it there were two golden rings which
together weighed a mark. He also gave him his cloak, it was fine cloth dyed
brown, trimmed with white fur, and promised him great honor and his friendship.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Vikings
are petty and vicious, but in the Viking world there is nothing that can’t be
settled with gold. I traded a hundred gold arm rings for half a share of the
kingdom of Norway, and when my nephew Magnus died a year later it all belonged
to me.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-90832977522826001802022-02-05T12:16:00.000-08:002022-02-05T12:16:10.849-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 8: 1047-1053<p> </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King
Haraldr had a market town built east in </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Oslofjord</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">,
and often stayed there, for it was a good place for getting supplies, the land
around being very productive. Staying there was very convenient for guarding
the land from the Danes, and also for incursions into Denmark. He was
accustomed to doing this frequently, even when he did not have a large army
out.</span></p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">I spent a lot of time in Oslofjord. It was my home district,
so I felt safe there.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I built ships there. We cut the big timber from the
mountains and floated it down into the fjord. The blacksmith forged nails that
did not rust. Our best seller was a knarr designed for two men and ten sheep.</p>
<h2>Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King
Haraldr stayed the winter in Niðaróss. He had a ship built during the winter
out on Eyrar. It was a búza type ship. This ship was built after the style of
Ormr inn langi and finished with the finest craftsmanship. There was a dragon
head at the prow, and in the rear a curved tail, and the necks of both were all
decorated with gold. It numbered thirty-five rowing benches, and was of a
proportionate size, and was a most handsome vessel. The king had all the
equipment for the ship carefully made, both sail and rigging, anchor and
cables.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">I
was King of Norway for 20 years. In retrospect, it went by in a flash. It was
real life, which doesn’t always align with the historical record.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">I
loved to sail. I sailed every summer. I had a shipbuilder in the Oslofjord,
implementing the designs I had used and seen in the Black Sea, in the
Mediterranean, in Egypt. Clinker built Longships, Triremes with keels and a lateen
sail, canoes with outriggers, I was always trying out a new design.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">I
sailed to Halogaland. I sailed to the Faroes. I sailed to Iceland. I sailed to
Greenland. I sailed to Vinland. That all happened.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Convenient to Kattegat and the markets of Copenhagen and
Malmo, easy access to the Jutland coast and up the Elbe.</p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">To Kattegat, through the Belt, to Uppsala
for the psychedelic Woodstock, over to Novgorod to see Ellisif’s sisters.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">To Jutland, up the Elbe or down the
Friesans.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Follow the route of Rollo up the Seine to
Paris. Normandy, the Isle of Wight, the slave market at Dublin, and the follow
the Gulf Stream home to Trondheim. You could take a lot more risks heading out,
because to get home all you had to do was follow the wind.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">The North Sea. With a sun compass and the
stars by night you could steer a course, but the winds were always blowing you
back home, not out to the location of your next adventure. Four days forced
rowing to Hjaltaland – the stopping point.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">The North Atlantic – that was a whole
different story. The favorable wind for Iceland is always the front edge of a
storm. You hope the storm is large enough that you get to Iceland before the
wind turns or small enough that you can ride it out and then navigate there
under clear skies. Both my cruises were the in-between case. Two days due west
on good winds, then four days of ten foot seas, rowers around the clock to give
you way into the waves, and no sight of sky by day or by night.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">The Icelanders were pretty badass. I kept
one in Trondheim as my court poet. No trees – no way to repair a boat of build
a new one. After I returned, I instituted trade with them – boat lumber for
walrus tusks.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Tbh,
the job of King of Norway was not that demanding. Anything can be settled with
gold. I could travel freely and freeload. Keep the war-arrows to a minimum. Plenty
of volunteers if you can plunder. I made the Halogaland people build me a
longhouse so I could watch the Northern Lights one winter.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
I loved metallurgy. I built a smelter in Olsofjord – extracted iron from Danish
bog ore, made pig iron ingots, forged steel for a Daneaxe that was more like a
meat cleaver on a stick than any field axe. I minted my own coinage.<o:p></o:p></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-20951271808827353642022-02-05T12:13:00.001-08:002022-02-05T12:13:32.085-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 9: 1054<h2>Tale of Bygone Years</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yaroslav,
Great Prince of Rus', passed away. While he was yet alive, he admonished his
sons with these words:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“My
sons, I am about to quit this world. Love one another, since ye are brothers by
one father and mother. If ye abide in amity with one another, God will dwell
among you, and will subject your enemies to you, and ye will live at peace. But
if ye dwell in envy and dissension, quarreling with one another, then ye will
perish yourselves and bring to ruin the land of your ancestors, which they won
at the price of great effort. Wherefore remain rather at peace, brother heeding
brother. The throne of Kiev I bequeath to my eldest son, your brother Izyaslav.
Heed him as ye have heeded me, that he may take my place among you. To
Svyatoslav I give Chernigov, to Vsevolod Pereyaslavl', to Igor' the city of
Vladimir, and to Vyacheslav Smolensk.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thus he
divided the cities among them, commanding them not to violate one another's
boundaries, not to despoil one another. He laid upon Izyaslav the injunction to
aid the party wronged, in case one brother should attack another. Thus he
admonished his sons to dwell in amity. Being unwell, he came to Vyshgorod, and
there fell seriously ill. Izyaslav at the moment was in Novgorod, Svyatoslav at
Vladimir, and Vsevolod with his father, for he was beloved of his father before
all his brethren, and Yaroslav kept him constantly by his side. The end of
Yaroslav's life drew near, and he gave up the ghost on the first Saturday after
the feast of St. Theodore. Vsevolod bore his father's body away, and laying it
upon a sled, he brought it to Kiev, while priests sang the customary hymns, and
the people mourned for him. When they had transported the body, they laid it in
a marble sarcophagus in the Church of St. Sophia, and Vsevolod and all his
subjects mourned him. All the years of his age were seventy six.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yaroslav
loved religious establishments and was devoted to priests, especially to monks.
He applied himself to books, and read them continually day and night. He
assembled many scribes, and translated from Greek into Slavic. He wrote and
collected many books through which true believers are instructed and enjoy
religious education. For as one man plows the land, and another sows, and still
others reap and eat food in abundance, so did this prince. His father Vladimir
plowed and harrowed the soil when he enlightened Rus' through baptism, while
this prince sowed the hearts of the faithful with the written word, and we in
turn reap the harvest by receiving the teaching of books. For great is the
profit from book-learning. Through the medium of books, we are shown and taught
the way of repentance, for we gain wisdom and continence from the written word.
Books are like rivers that water the whole earth; they are the springs of
wisdom. For books have an immeasurable depth; by them we are consoled in
sorrow.</p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">When
Yaroslav died I realized that the greatest success for a King is to be able to
pass down the kingdom to his son and to die in his own bed.</span>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-39844292011818421842022-02-05T12:12:00.000-08:002022-02-05T12:12:00.842-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 10: 1055-1064<p> </p><h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Once you
get a taste for Viking cruises you can’t really kick it. Get together with 50
or so of your best buds, sail someplace new; camp, rape, pillage, and plunder; back
home in time to bring in the harvest. Plus, I always enjoyed fucking with Sweyn
of Sweeden.</span></p>
<h2>Wikipedia</h2>
<p class="Wikipedia">Sweyn was married three times, and fathered 20 children or
more out of wedlock. He was courageous in battle, but did not have much success
as a military commander. His skeleton reveals that he was a tall,
powerfully built man who walked with a limp.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">Sweyn managed to escape the battle of Nisa, reached land and
stopped at the house of a peasant to ask for something to eat.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“What was the terrible rumbling in the night?” she asked.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“Didn't you know the two kings were fighting all night?”
asked one of Sweyn's men.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“Who won, then?” the woman asked.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“Norwegians,” came the reply.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“It's a shame on us, for a king we already have. He limps
and is timid.”</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“No,” King Sweyn explained.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“Timid the king of the Danes is assuredly not,” defended
another of the king's men, “but luck isn't with him and he lacks a victory.”</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The housecarl brought the men water and a towel to wash
themselves. As the king was drying his hands, the woman tore the cloth from
him,</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">“You should be ashamed of yourself for using the whole towel
for yourself,” she scolded.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">Her husband gave the king a horse and Sweyn continued on his
way to Zealand. </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was on a
Viking cruise. Down Jutland, into the Elbe. Looking for a sweet castle that was
open to the water and defensible from the land. Found a monastery instead. At
the time I needed the Pope to canonize my brother Olaf, to open a church in
Trondheim, and to take care of Olaf’s remains, from which hair and fingernails
still could be trimmed.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I raided
the monastery, threw all the monks aboard, and them back to Trondheim.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We didn’t
have good winds, so I entertained myself by drinking and talking to the monks.
One of them spoke good Norse, another taught me some Latin The sailing directions
are pretty accurate. The stuff about Uppsala, the more outrageous it got the
more they believed, so I just kept going. Besides, after that they were
motivated to anoint Olaf a saint and to finish the church.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 2.0pt; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-pagination: widow-orphan lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;">Adam of Bremen<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On account of the roughness of its
mountains and the immoderate cold, Norway is the most unproductive of all
countries, suited only for herds. They browse their cattle, like the Arabs, far
off in the solitudes. In this way do the people make a living from their
livestock by using the milk of the flocks or herds for food and the wool for
clothing. Consequently, there are produced very valiant fighters who, not
softened by any overindulgence in fruits, more often attack others than others
trouble them. Poverty has forced them thus to go all over the world and from
piratical raids they bring home in great abundance the riches of the lands. In
this way they bear up under the unfruitfulness of their own country.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Those who have a knowledge of geography
also assert that some men have passed by an overland route from Sweden into
Greece. But the barbarous peoples who live between make this way difficult;
consequently, the risk is taken by ship.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The route is of a kind that, boarding a
ship, they may, in a day’s journey, cross the sea from Aalborg or Wendila of
the Danes to Viken, a city of the Norwegians. Sailing thence toward the left
along the coast of Norway, the city called Trondhjem is reached on the fifth
day. But it is possible also to go another way that leads over a land road from
Scania of the Danes to Trondhjem. This route, however, is slower in the
mountainous country, and travelers avoid it because it is dangerous.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Situated between Norway and Britain and
Ireland, the Orkneys, therefore, laugh playfully at the threats of a menacing
ocean. It is said that one can sail to them in a day from the Norwegian city of
Trondhjem. They say, too, that from the Orkneys it is just as far whether you
steer toward England or set sail for Scotland.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This happens on the island of Thule,
six days’ sail distant from Britain toward the north. … This Thule is now
called Iceland, from the ice which binds the ocean. … It has on it many peoples,
who make a living only by raising cattle and who clothe themselves with their
pelts. No crops are grown there; the supply of wood is very meager.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the ocean there are very many other
islands of which not the least is Greenland, situated far out in the ocean. …
To this island they say it is from five to seven days’ sail from the coast of
Norway.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The third island is Helgeland, nearer
to Norway but in extent not unequal to the rest. That island sees the sun upon
the land for fourteen days continuously at the solstice in summer and,
similarly, it lacks the sun for the same number of days in the winter.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet another island of the many found in
that ocean. It is called Vinland because vines producing excellent wine grow
wild there. That unsown crops also abound on that island we have ascertained
not from fabulous reports but from trustworthy relation.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The very well-informed prince of the
Norwegians, Harold, lately attempted this sea. After he had explored the
expanse of the Northern Ocean in his ships, there lay before their eyes at
length the darksome bounds of a failing world, and by retracing his steps he
barely escaped in safety the vast pit of the abyss.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now we shall say a few words about the
superstitions of the Swedes. That folk has a very famous temple called
Uppsala, situated not far from the city of Sigtuna and Björkö. In this temple,
entirely decked out in gold, the people worship the statues of three gods in
such wise that the mightiest of them, Thor, occupies a throne in the middle of
the chamber; Wotan and Frikko have places on either side. The significance of
these gods is as follows: Thor, they say, presides over the air, which governs
the thunder and lightning, the winds and rains, fair weather and crops. The
other, Wotan—that is, the Furious—carries on war and imparts to man strength
against his enemies. The third is Frikko, who bestows peace and pleasure on
mortals. His likeness, too, they fashion with an immense phallus. But Wotan
they chisel armed, as our people are wont to represent Mars. Thor with his
scepter apparently resembles Jove. … For all their gods there are
appointed priests to offer sacrifices for the people. If plague and famine threaten,
a libation is poured to the idol Thor; if war, to Wotan; if marriages are to be
celebrated, to Frikko. It is customary also to solemnize in Uppsala, at
nine-year intervals, a general feast of all the provinces of Sweden. From
attendance at this festival no one is exempted.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The sacrifice is of this nature: of
every living thing that is male, they offer nine heads, with the blood of which
it is customary to placate gods of this sort. The bodies they hang in the
sacred grove that adjoins the temple. Now this grove is so sacred in the eyes
of the heathen that each and every tree in it is believed divine because of the
death or putrefaction of the victims. Even dogs and horses hang there with men.
A Christian seventy-two years old told me that he had seen their bodies
suspended promiscuously. Furthermore, the incantations customarily chanted in
the ritual of a sacrifice of this kind are manifold and unseemly; therefore, it
is better to keep silence about them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Near this temple stands a very large
tree with wide-spreading branches, always green winter and summer. What kind it
is nobody knows. There is also a spring at which the pagans are accustomed to
make their sacrifices, and into it to plunge a live man. And if he is not
found, the people’s wish will be granted.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A golden chain goes round the temple.
It hangs over the gable of the building and sends its glitter far off to those
who approach, because the shrine stands on level ground with mountains all
about it like a theater.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Feasts and sacrifices of this kind are
solemnized for nine days. On each day they offer a man along with other living
beings in such a number that in the course of the nine days they will have made
offerings of seventy-two creatures. This sacrifice takes place about the time
of the vernal equinox.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It happened one summer that Haraldr Guðinason
had a journey to make to Bretland and went by ship. And when they got out to
the open sea, then a contrary wind arose and they were driven far out to sea.
They reached land west in Normandy and had endured a deadly storm. They made
for the city of Rúða and there met Jarl Viljálmr. He welcomed Haraldr warmly
and his company. Haraldr stayed there a long time in the autumn with hospitable
entertainment, for storms were raging and it was not possible to go to sea. So
when it got close to winter, then they discussed this, the jarl and Haraldr,
that Haraldr should stay there for the winter. Haraldr was sitting in a seat of
honour on one side of the jarl, and the jarl’s wife on his other side. She was
fairer than any other woman that people had seen. They always all had
entertaining talk together over their drinks. The jarl generally went early to
bed, but Haraldr sat long in the evenings talking with the jarl’s wife. So it
went on for a long time during the winter.</span></p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Matilda. One hell of a woman. William’s wife. Tostig’s
wife’s sister. One hell of a woman.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-14171716610145581892022-02-05T12:09:00.001-08:002022-02-05T12:09:34.957-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 11: 1065<p> </p><h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Arctic noon dusk, on the beach of a calm fjord, two men recite
poetry, call and refrain, over the still waters and beneath the looming
mountains. I’ve come to Halogaland to fish for cod, to harvest the stickfish
and the saltfish, to make skis and snow-shoes, to fashion mink cloaks and
wollen sweaters, to fuck the local women and to watch the northern lights. Beside
the mountain, beneath the sunset, under oars, a dark ship enters the fjord. The
poetry ends and I wonder who it could be, on that boat, coming for me.</p>
<h2>Wikipedia</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Tostig appears to have governed
in </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northumbria" title="Northumbria"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Northumbria</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> with some difficulty. He was never popular
with the Northumbrian ruling class, a mix of Danish invaders and </span><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anglo-Saxon" title="Anglo-Saxon"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Anglo-Saxon</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> survivors of the last Norse invasion.
Tostig was said to have been heavy-handed with those who resisted his rule,
including murdering several members of leading Northumbrian families. In late
1063 or early 1064, Tostig had Gamal son of Orm and Ulf son of Dolfin
assassinated when Gamal visited him under safe conduct. The </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Vita Edwardi</span></i><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">, otherwise sympathetic to Tostig, states that he
had “repressed [the Northumbrians] with the heavy yoke of his rule”.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anglo Saxon Chronicle </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This was done on the
mass-day of St. Bartholomew. Soon after this all the thanes in Yorkshire and in
Northumberland gathered themselves together at York, and outlawed their Earl
Tosty; slaying all the men of his clan that they could reach, both Danish and
English; and took all his weapons in York, with gold and silver, and all his
money that they could anywhere there find.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wikipedia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Wikipedia">Harold Godwinson persuaded <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Edward_the_Confessor" title="King Edward the Confessor"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">King Edward the Confessor</span></a> to agree to
the demands of the rebels. Tostig was outlawed a short time later, possibly
early in November, because he refused to accept his deposition as commanded by
Edward. This led to the fatal confrontation and enmity between the two
Godwinsons. At a meeting of the king and his council, Tostig publicly accused
Harold of fomenting the rebellion. Harold was keen to unify England in the face
of the grave threat from <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_the_Conqueror" title="William the Conqueror"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">William of Normandy</span></a>, who had openly declared
his intention to take the English throne. It was likely that Harold had exiled
his brother to ensure peace and loyalty in the north. Tostig, however, remained
unconvinced and plotted vengeance.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">Tostig took ship with his family and some loyal thegns and
took refuge with his brother-in-law, Baldwin V, Count of Flanders. He even
travelled to Normandy and attempted to form an alliance with William, who was
related to his wife. Baldwin provided him with a fleet and he landed in
the Isle of Wight in May 1066, where he collected money and provisions. He
raided the coast as far as <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandwich,_Kent" title="Sandwich, Kent"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Sandwich</span></a> but
was forced to retreat when King Harold called out land and naval
forces. He moved north and after an unsuccessful attempt to get his
brother Gyrth to join him, he raided <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norfolk" title="Norfolk"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Norfolk</span></a> and <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lincolnshire" title="Lincolnshire"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Lincolnshire</span></a>.
The Earls Edwin and Morcar defeated him decisively. Deserted by his men, he fled
to his sworn brother, King <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malcolm_III_of_Scotland" title="Malcolm III of Scotland"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Malcolm III of Scotland</span></a>. Tostig spent the
summer of 1066 in Scotland.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">He made contact with King <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harald_III_of_Norway" title="Harald III of Norway"><span style="color: #202122; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Harald III Hardrada</span></a> of Norway and
persuaded him to invade England. One of the sagas claims that he sailed for
Norway, and greatly impressed the Norwegian king and his court, managing to sway
a decidedly unenthusiastic Hardrada, who had just concluded a long and
inconclusive war with Denmark, into raising a levy to take the throne of
England. </p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">William of
Normandy passes. Baldwin of Flanders passes, although he gives Tostig a few
ships to make him go away. Malcom of Scotland passes. Harald of Norway, on the
other hand, knows a good thing when he sees it.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jarl
Tósti changed direction in his travel, and turned up in Norway and went to see
King Haraldr. He was in the Vík. And when they meet, the jarl reveals his
errand to the king, telling him all about his travels since he left England and
asking the king to give him support in getting back his realm in England. The
king’s reply is this, that Norwegians would not be keen to travel to England
and lay it waste and have an English ruler over them.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“People
say that those English are not very reliable.”</span></p>
<h2>Harald</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His own brother Harold hated him so
much that Harold kicked Tostig out of Essex and sent Tostig to York. The people
in York hated Tostig so much they killed all Tostig’s housecarls and plundered
all his gold. When their father died Harold disowned Tostig and kicked him out
of Northumberland. Did I mention that Tostig has an incredibly punchable face?</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
jarl replies: “If you will not tell me, then I will tell you. King Magnús won
Denmark because the leading men of that land helped him, and you did not get it
because all the people of the country stood against you. King Magnús did not
fight to conquer England because the people of the country wanted to have
Eatvarðr as king. If you want to gain England, then I can bring it about that
the majority of the leaders in England will be your friends and supporters. I
lack nothing more in comparison with my brother Harold than just the name of
king. Everyone knows that no such fighting man has been born in Northern Lands
as you, and I find it surprising that you have been fighting for fifteen
winters to win Denmark, but you will not take England, which now lies open to
you.”</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Harald<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I knew
that Tostig was full of shit. I decided to do it anyway. I was fifty years old
– how could I resist the chance for one more great adventure before I passed
the kingdom down to my sons and retired to Halogaland to drink Rhenish wine and
watch the northern lights.</span></p>
<p class="Author"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It could
work. William would be invading from the south, I would be invading from the
north, the English forces loyalty would be split between Harold, Tostig, and
their home villages. It worked in Sicily. It worked for Cnut. Why couldn’t it work
for me?</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King
Haraldr considered carefully what the jarl was saying, and realised that much
of what he said was true, and on the other hand he began to get keen to have
the kingdom. After this the king and the jarl spoke together long and often.
They settled on this plan, that they should in the summer go to England and
conquer the country. King Haraldr sent word all over Norway and called out
troops for an expedition, a half levy. This now became widely known. There were
many guesses about where the expedition would be going. Some said, reckoning up
King Haraldr’s achievements, that nothing would be impossible for him, while
some said that England would be difficult to defeat, the population there being
enormous.</span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-78120434638759067602022-02-05T12:06:00.006-08:002022-02-05T12:06:49.552-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 12: 1066<p> </p><h2><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wikipedia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Wikipedia">In 1066 Halley’s Comet was seen, appearing to be four times
the size of <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venus" title="Venus"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Venus</span></a>, and
shining with a light equal to a quarter of that of the <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon" title="Moon"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Moon</span></a>. Halley came within
0.10 <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astronomical_unit" title="Astronomical unit"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">AU</span></a> of Earth at that time</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">Halley's Comet is visible from Earth every 74–79 years.</p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anglo Saxon Chronicle<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then
was over all England such a token seen as no man ever saw before. Some men said
that it was the comet-star, which others denominate the long-hair'd star. It
appeared first on the eve called “Litania major”, that is, on the eighth before
the calends off May; and so shone all the week.</span></p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There
are two sea routes from Norway to England. The Dane way is south down Jutland,
turn east along Friesland and then go straight across the English Channel. Not
much wind, but a safe route for cargo ships under oars. The Viking way is south
down the coast of Trondheim, straight across the North Sea to a halt at the
Shetlands, then Orkneys and follow the coast to Northumbria.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Haraldr’s army assembled in
Sólundir. And when King Haraldr was ready to sail out from Niðaróss, then he
first went to King Óláfr’s shrine and opened it and cut his hair and nails and
afterwards locked the shrine and threw the keys out into the Nið, and the
blessed King Óláfr’s shrine has never since been opened. There had now passed
from his fall thirty-five winters. He had also lived thirty five winters in
this world. King Haraldr took the troops that were following him south to meet
up with his own troops. A large force was collected there, so that it is
people’s report that King Haraldr had nearly two hundred ships, and in addition
carriers for provisions and small craft.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So when King Haraldr was ready and
there arose a favourable wind, he sailed out to sea and came to land by
Hjaltland, though some of his troops came by Orkney. King Haraldr lay there a
short while, before he sailed to Orkney, and he took with him from there a
large troop and Jarl Þorfinnr’s sons, the jarls Páll and Erlendr, but left
there Queen Ellisif and their daughters Maria and Ingigerðr. From there he
sailed south past Scotland and on past England and came to land there where it
is called Kliflǫnd. There he went ashore and immediately made raids and
subjected the land to himself, meeting no resistance.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anglo Saxon Chronicle<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Soon
after this came in Earl Tosty from beyond sea into the Isle of Wight, with as
large a fleet as he could get. When Tosty understood that King Harold was on
the way to Sandwich, he departed thence, and took some of the boatmen with him,
willing and unwilling, and went north into the Humber with sixty skips; whence
he plundered in Lindsey, and there slew many good men. When the Earls Edwin and
Morkar understood that, they came hither, and drove him from the land. And the
boatmen forsook him. Then he went to Scotland with twelve smacks; and the king
of the Scots entertained him, and aided him with provisions; and he abode there
all the summer. There met him Harald, King of Norway, with three hundred ships.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> ...</o:p></span></p>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Came
Tosty the earl into Humber with sixty ships. Edwin the earl came with a land-force
and drove him out; and the boatmen forsook him. And he went to Scotland with
twelve vessels; and Harald, the King of Norway, met him with three hundred
ships, and Tosty submitted to him; and they both went into Humber, until they
came to York.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After that King Haraldr made for
Skarðaborg and fought there with the citizens. He went up onto the cliff that
is situated there and had a great fire made there and set ablaze. And when the
fire was burning, they took great forks and flung the fire down into the town.
Then one building after another caught fire. Then the whole place went up in
flames. The Norwegians slew many people there, and took all the wealth they got
hold of. There was then nothing else the English people could do, if they were
to stay alive, but submit to King Haraldr. He then subjected all the land to
himself wherever he went. After that King Haraldr made his way with the whole
army south along the coast and landed by Hellornes. There he was met by an
assembled force, and King Haraldr fought a battle there and was victorious.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jarl Valþjófr and the troops that got
away fled up to the city of Jork. There was a very great slaughter there. The
battle was on Wednesday, the next day before Matheusmass.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jarl Tósti had come from the south from
Flæmingjaland to King Haraldr as soon as he got to England, and the jarl was in
all these battles. It then turned out as he had said to Haraldr before this
meeting, that multitudes of people thronged to them in England. These were
relations and friends of Jarl Tósti, and it was a great enhancement of the
king’s forces. After this battle that has just been related, troops from all
round the neighbouring districts submitted to King Haraldr, though some fled.
Then King Haraldr prepared his expedition to capture the city and stationed his
army by Stamford Bridge. And because the king had won such a great victory
against great leaders and overwhelming forces, all the people were afraid and
despaired of standing up to him. Then the citizens decided to send a petition
to King Haraldr and offer themselves and also the city into his power. The
result of this whole petition was that on the Sunday King Haraldr went with his
whole army up to the city and set up an assembly, the king and his men, outside
the city, and the citizens attended the assembly. All the people accepted
submission to King Haraldr, and gave him hostages, sons of high-ranking men, it
being the case that Tósti knew details of all the people in that city, and in
the evening the king went down to his ships with an automatic victory, and was
very merry. An assembly was arranged for early on the Monday in the city. King
Haraldr was then to set up the organisation of the place with men of the ruling
class and hand out ranks and fiefs.</span></p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="Author">Everything was going according to plan. What I hadn’t planned
for was exactly how much Harold hated Tostig.</p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On the Monday, when Haraldr Sigurðarson
had eaten breakfast, he had the trumpets blown for going ashore, then he makes
his army ready and divides the troops, which parts are to go and which are to
be left behind. In every company he had two men go inland for every one left
behind. Jarl Tósti got ready for going inland with King Haraldr with his
company,</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The weather was now extremely good and
the sun was hot. The men left behind their mailcoats, and marched up with
shields and helmets and halberds and girded with swords, and many also had
arrows and bows and were very merry. But when they advanced into the
neighbourhood of the city, they found riding towards them a large troop. They
saw the cloud of dust raised by the horses and beneath it fair shields and
white mailcoats. Then the king halted his troops, had Jarl Tósti called to him
and asked what troops these would be.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The jarl speaks, saying he thought it
more than likely that it would be hostile, saying also that it could on the
other hand turn out that this would be some of his kinsmen, looking for mercy
and friendship, so as to get in return the king’s support and trust.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then the king said that they would
first of all hold still and find out about the army. They did so, and the troop
turned out to be larger the closer it got, and to look at it all seemed just
like a heap of bits of ice with the glittering of their weapons.</span></p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="Author">Instead of hanging around the Isle of Wight waiting for
William, he puts his whole army on a forced march for a month, just to kill
Tostig. And the Northumbrians hated Tostig so much, they did not give us any
warning that the English army was approaching, and in fact they fell in behind the
Saxon army as it approached.</p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After that King Haraldr drew up his
troops, making the battle line long and not deep. Then he curved the wings
round backwards so that they met. It then formed a wide circle and a thick one,
and the same everywhere all round the outside, shield against shield and the
same above their heads, but the king’s company was within the circle and the
standard was there too. It was a picked troop. In a separate place was Jarl Tósti
with his company. He had a different standard. It was drawn up in this way,
because the king knew that mounted men were accustomed to ride forwards in
small detachments and withdraw immediately. So the king says that his company
and the jarl’s company should move forward to where the greatest need was. “And
our bowmen shall also be there with us, and those that are standing foremost
shall set the butts of their spears in the ground, and set the points before
the breasts of the riders, if they ride at us, and those that are standing
closest, they are to set their spear points before the breasts of the horses.”</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Harold of the English spoke to the
Norwegians that were with him: “Did you recognise that big man with the dark
tunic and the fair helmet?”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“That is the king himself,” they said.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The king of the English says: “A big
man and he has a stately air, and it is more than likely that he has run out of
luck.”</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then spoke one of the horsemen: “Is
Jarl Tósti among the troops?”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He answers: “That is not to be denied,
you will find him here.”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then spoke one of the horsemen: “Your
brother Harold sends you a greeting and has this to say too, that you should
have pardon and the whole of Northumberland, and rather than that you should
not be willing to pay homage to him, then he will give you a third of the whole
kingdom alongside him.”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then answers the jarl: “Then there is
something on offer other than hostility and dishonour like last winter. If this
had been offered then, then there would be many a man still alive that is now
dead, and the kingdom in England would then have been in a better state. Now if
I accept this offer, what will he offer King Haraldr Sigurðarson for his
trouble then?”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then spoke the horseman: “He has said
something about that, what he will grant him of England: a space seven foot
long, or so much longer as he is taller than other men.”</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then says the jarl: “Go now and tell
King Haraldr that he should prepare for battle.”</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla</span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then King Haraldr Sigurðarson spoke:</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We creep not because of weapons’ crash<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The discreet valkyrie ordered<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In battle into the shield’s hollow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To hold my helmet-stump<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">high the necklace-prop<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">long ago commanded me, in metal-din<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">where met skulls and battle-ice.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Haraldr Sigurðarson stepped
forward in the battle to where the fighting was densest. There was then the
most violent of battles, and many troops on both sides fell. Then King Haraldr
Sigurðarson got so furious that he leapt forward right out of the formation and
struck with both hands. There stood against him then neither helmet not
mailcoat. Then all those that were closest took to flight. The English men were
then right on the point of fleeing.</span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Haraldr Sigurðarson was struck in
the throat by an arrow. That was his death wound. Then he fell and all the
company that had advanced with him, except those that pulled back, and they
held the standard. There was then still the harshest of battles. Then Jarl
Tósti went beneath the royal standard. Then both sides began to form up a
second time, and there was then a very long pause in the battle.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anglo Saxon Chronicle<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
was on the eve of St. Matthew the apostle, which was Wednesday. Then after the
fight went Harald, King of Norway, and Earl Tosty into York with as many
followers as they thought fit; and having procured hostages and provisions from
the city, they proceeded to their ships, and proclaimed full friendship, on
condition that all would go southward with them, and gain this land.</span></p>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> ...</o:p></span></p><p class="AngloSaxonChronicle">Thither
came Harold, king of the English, unawares against them beyond the bridge; and
they closed together there, and continued long in the day fighting very
severely. There was slain Harald the King of Norway, and Earl Tosty, and a
multitude of people with them, both of Normans and English; and the Normans
that were left fled from the English, who slew them hotly behind; until some
came to their ships, some were drowned, some burned to death, and thus
variously destroyed; so that there was little left: and the English gained
possession of the field. But there was one of the Norwegians who withstood the
English folk, so that they could not pass over the bridge, nor complete the
victory. An Englishman aimed at him with a javelin, but it availed nothing.
Then came another under the bridge, who pierced him terribly inwards under the
coat of mail.</p>
<h2>Harald<o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So that’s where I died.
25 September 1066, on the banks of a muddy Yorkshire stream, with my boats and
my bodyguards a full days hard march away at the coast. Over the years several
wanna-be cathedrals claimed to have a piece of my corpse as a holy relic, but
it wasn’t true. I’m still here.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 2.0pt; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-pagination: widow-orphan lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;">Anglo Saxon Chronicle<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This year died King
Edward, and Harold the earl succeeded to the kingdom, and held it forty weeks
and one day. And this year came William, and won England. And in this year
Christ-Church [Canterbury] was burned. And this year appeared a comet on the
fourteenth before the kalends of May.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tosty went thence,
and did harm everywhere by the sea-coast where he could land, as far as
Sandwich. Then was it made known to King Harold, who was in London, London,
that Tosty his brother was come to Sandwich. Then gathered he so great a
ship-force, and also a land force, as no king here in the land had before
gathered, because it had been soothly said unto him, that William the earl from
Normandy, King Edward's kinsman, would come hither and subdue this land: all as
it afterwards happened. When Tosty learned that King Harold was on his way to
Sandwich, then went he from Sandwich, and took some of the boatmen with him,
some willingly and some unwillingly; and went then north into Humber, and there
ravaged in Lindsey, and there slew many good men. When Edwin the earl and
Morcar the earl understood that, then came they thither, and drove him out of
the land. And he went then to Scotland: and the king of Scots protected him, and
assisted him with provisions; and he there abode all the summer. Then came King
Harold to Sandwich, and there awaited his fleet, because it was long before it
could be gathered together. And when his fleet was gathered together, then went
he into the Isle of Wight, and there lay all the summer and the harvest; and a
land-force was kept everywhere by the sea, though in the end it was of no
benefit. When it was the Nativity of St. Mary, then were the men's provisions
gone, and no man could any longer keep them there. Then were the men allowed to
go home, and the king rode up, and the ships were dispatched to London; and
many perished before they came thither. When the ships had reached home, then
came King Harald from Norway, north into Tyne, and unawares, with a very large
ship-force, and no small one; that might be, or more. And Tosty the earl came
to him with all that he had gotten, all as they had before agreed; and then
they went both, with all the fleet, along the Ouse, up towards York.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then was it made
known to King Harold in the south, as he was come from on ship-board, that
Harald King of Norway and Tosty the earl were landed near York. Then went he
northward, day and night, as quickly as he could gather his forces. Then,
before that King Harold could come thither, then gathered Edwin the earl and
Morcar the earl from their earldom as great a force as they could get together;
and they fought against the army, and made great slaughter: and there was much
of the English people slain, and drowned, and driven away in flight; and the
Northmen had possession of the place of carnage. And this fight was on the
vigil of St. Matthew the apostle, and it was Wednesday. And then, after the
fight, went Harald, King of Norway, and Tosty the earl, into York, with as much
people as seemed meet to them. And they delivered hostages to them from the
city, and also assisted them with provisions; and so they went thence to their
ships, and they agreed upon a full peace, so that they should all go with him
south, and this land subdue. Then, during this, came Harold, king of the
Angles, with all his forces, on the Sunday, to Tadcaster, and there drew up his
force, and went then on Monday throughout York; and Harald, King of Norway, and
Tosty the earl, and their forces, were gone from their ships beyond York to
Stanford bridge, because it had been promised them for a certainty, that there,
from all the shire, hostages should be brought to meet them. Then came Harold,
king of the English, against them, unawares, beyond the bridge, and they there
joined battle, and very strenuously, for a long time of the day, continued
fighting: and there was Harald, King of Norway, and Tosty the earl slain, and
numberless of the people with them, as well of the Northmen as of the English:
and the Northmen fled from the English. Then was there one of the Norwegians
who withstood the English people, so that they might not pass over the bridge,
nor obtain the victory. Then an Englishman aimed at him with a javelin, but
availed nothing; and then came another under the bridge, and pierced him
terribly inwards under the coat of mail. Then came Harold, king of the English,
over the bridge, and his forces onward with him, and there made great
slaughter, as well of Norwegians as of Flemings. And the King's son, Edmund,
Harold let go home to Norway, with all the ships.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 2.0pt; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-pagination: widow-orphan lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">After the battle, King Haraldr Sigurðarson’s
marshal Styrkárr got away, a splendid person. He got hold of a horse and thus
rode away. In the evening some wind arose, rather a cold one, but Styrkárr had
no clothing other than a tunic and a helmet on his head and some kind of sword
in his hand. He got cold when he recovered from his weariness. Then he was met
by a wagoner and he was in a fur-lined coat.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then spoke Styrkárr: “Will you sell the coat,
farmer?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Not to you,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You must be a Norwegian, I recognise your
speech.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then said Styrkárr: “If I am a Norwegian, what
do you want, then?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The farmer answers: “I would like to kill you,
but unfortunately I have no usable weapon.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then said Styrkárr: “If you cannot kill me,
farmer, then I shall try whether I can kill you.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He swings up his sword and brings it down on his
neck so that his head flew off, after that took the fur-lined coat and leapt on
his horse and went down to the shore.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 2.0pt; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-pagination: widow-orphan lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="color: #2f5496; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Yu Gothic Light"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;">Anglo Saxon Chronicle<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="AngloSaxonChronicle"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And
the while, William the earl landed at Hastings, on St. Michael's-day: and
Harold came from the north, and fought against him before all his army had come
up: and there he fell, and his two brothers, Girth and Leofwin; and William
subdued this land. And he came to Westminster, and Archbishop Aldred
consecrated him king, and men paid him tribute, delivered him hostages, and
afterwards bought their land.</span></p>
<h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wikipedia<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Hastings"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Hastings</span></a></p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The background to the battle was the death of the childless
King <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_the_Confessor" title="Edward the Confessor"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Edward the Confessor</span></a> in January 1066, which set up a
succession struggle between several claimants to his throne. Harold was crowned
king shortly after Edward's death, but faced invasions by William, his own
brother <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tostig_Godwinson" title="Tostig Godwinson"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Tostig</span></a>, and the Norwegian King <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harald_Hardrada" title="Harald Hardrada"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Harald Hardrada</span></a> (Harold
III of Norway). Hardrada and Tostig defeated a hastily gathered army of
Englishmen at the <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Fulford" title="Battle of Fulford"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Battle of Fulford</span></a>on 20 September 1066, and were in turn
defeated by Harold at the <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Stamford_Bridge" title="Battle of Stamford Bridge"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Battle of Stamford Bridge</span></a> five days later. The deaths of
Tostig and Hardrada at Stamford Bridge left William as Harold's only serious
opponent. While Harold and his forces were recovering, William landed his
invasion forces in the south of England at <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pevensey" title="Pevensey"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Pevensey</span></a> on
28 September 1066 and established a beachhead for his conquest of the kingdom.
Harold was forced to march south swiftly, gathering forces as he went</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">After defeating his brother Tostig and Harald Hardrada in
the north, Harold left much of his forces in the north, including Morcar and
Edwin, and marched the rest of his army south to deal with the threatened
Norman invasion. It is unclear when Harold learned of William's landing,
but it was probably while he was travelling south. Harold stopped in London,
and was there for about a week before Hastings, so it is likely that he spent
about a week on his march south, averaging about 27 mi (43 km) per
day, for the approximately 200 mi (320 km).</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">Although Harold attempted to surprise the Normans, William's
scouts reported the English arrival to the duke. The exact events preceding the
battle are obscure, with contradictory accounts in the sources, but all agree
that William led his army from his castle and advanced towards the
enemy. Harold had taken a defensive position at the top of <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Senlac_Hill" title="Senlac Hill"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Senlac Hill</span></a> (present-day
Battle, East Sussex), about 6 mi (9.7 km) from William's castle at
Hastings.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">The exact numbers present at the battle are unknown as even
modern estimates vary considerably. The composition of the forces is clearer:
the English army was composed almost entirely of <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infantry" title="Infantry"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">infantry</span></a> and
had few <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archery" title="Archery"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">archers</span></a>,
whereas only about half of the invading force was infantry, the rest split
equally between <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cavalry" title="Cavalry"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #6b4ba1; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">cavalry</span></a> and archers. Harold appears to have tried to
surprise William, but scouts found his army and reported its arrival to
William, who marched from Hastings to the battlefield to confront Harold. The
battle lasted from about 9 am to dusk. Early efforts of the invaders to break
the English battle lines had little effect. Therefore, the Normans adopted the
tactic of pretending to flee in panic and then turning on their pursuers.
Harold's death, probably near the end of the battle, led to the retreat and
defeat of most of his army. After further marching and some skirmishes, William
was crowned as king on Christmas Day 1066.</p>
<p class="Wikipedia">There continued to be rebellions and resistance to William's
rule, but Hastings effectively marked the culmination of William's conquest of
England. Casualty figures are hard to come by, but some historians estimate
that 2,000 invaders died along with about twice that number of Englishmen.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #202122; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #202122; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-57281476080264995082022-02-05T12:02:00.002-08:002022-02-05T12:02:32.807-08:00Harald Hardrada - Chapter 13: Afterwards<p> </p><h2><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heimskringla<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King
Haraldr was a powerful man and a firm ruler within his own country, very
intelligent in his thinking, so that it is universally held that there has been
no ruler in Northern Lands that has been as profoundly wise as Haraldr or as
clever in his decisions. He was a great warrior and of the very boldest in
fighting. He was strong and better able to use weapons than any other man, as
has been written above.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Haraldr was a handsome man and
noble-looking, fair-haired and with a fair beard and long moustache, one
eyebrow a little higher than the other, large hands and feet and both well
shaped. His height measured five ells. He was fierce to his enemies and harsh
in punishments for any opposition.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Haraldr was most ambitious for
power and for any advantageous possessions. He was hugely liberal towards his
friends, those that he was well pleased with.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Haraldr was fifty years of age
when he fell. We have no noteworthy accounts of his youth until he was fifteen
winters old, when he was at Stiklarstaðir in the battle along with his brother
King Óláfr, and after that he lived thirty-five winters. And all that time he
never had any respite from violence and warfare. King Haraldr never fled from a
battle, but he often took precautions in the face of overwhelming odds that he
had to deal with. Everyone said, who followed him in battle and warfare, that
when he was in a situation of great danger and it had suddenly come upon him,
that he would adopt the course that everyone realised afterwards had been the
most likely to work.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Brynjólfr gamli úlfaldi’s (Camel’s) son
Halldórr was an intelligent man and a great leader. He said this, when he heard
people’s talk, and people were assessing the characters of the brothers King
Óláfr the Saint and Haraldr quite differently, then Halldórr spoke as follows:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I was on very friendly terms with both
the brothers, and I was acquainted with both their characters. I never came
across two men more alike in character. They were both most sensible and most
bold as fighters, men ambitious for wealth and power, imperious, not in
sympathy with ordinary people, natural rulers and stern in punishment. King
Óláfr forced the people of the country to Christianity and right conduct, and
harshly punished those that turned a deaf ear. The leaders of the land would
not put up with his just and fair judgments and rose against him here and
killed him on his own territory. As a result he became a saint. But Haraldr
fought for fame and power and forced all the people to submit to him, as far as
he could. He also fell on other kings’ territory. Both the brothers were men
that were virtuous in general conduct and high-minded. They were widely
travelled and men of great energy and from this became widely renowned and
famous.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="Heimskringla"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">King Magnús ruled over Norway, the son
of Haraldr, the first winter after the fall of King Haraldr, and after that he
ruled two winters with his brother Óláfr. There were then these two kings.
Magnús held the more northerly part of the country, and Óláfr the more
easterly. King Magnús had a son that was called Hákon. He was fostered by
Steigar-Þórir. He was a most promising man.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-73117769472881398222022-02-05T12:00:00.000-08:002022-02-05T12:00:27.675-08:00Krisha and Kamsa - Notebook 2<h2 style="text-align: left;">Conversion by the sword, baptism in the sand.</h2><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The leader spoke to Kamsa.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“As a captive of the Uttara, you have two choices: either
you become one of us, adopting us as your brothers, working only for the good
of the tribe, killing the enemies of the tribe, sharing equally the burdens and
the profits, or you can die here in the desert, by the sword or in the sand. It
is up to you to choose”.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Kamsa chose the sword.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">“You shall at least die like a man”.<br /> Goliath, to David.</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa was led to the edge of the compound and given a sword.
The champion of the Uttara approached. They fought.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa’s training in the arts of war served him well. After
some preliminary feints, thrusts, and parries, gauging the strengths and
tactics of his opponent, Kamsa attacked, and soon had him at his mercy. Kamsa,
sword raised and prised for the mortal strike, looked around him as saw the
rest of the tribe, weapons at their hips, and beyond them only the gentle rise
and fall of the dunes. He thrust his sword deep into the sand, and said in his
native tongue, “I accept you, my brothers”.<o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa became versed in the ways of the Uttara. The man he
defeated, Kura, was the son of the chief. Kamsa, Kura, and Kura’s sister,
Vaisti, spent much time together.<o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal">An epic as a short story<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Scale<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Man – God<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kamsa – Krishna<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tribe – State<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Uttara – Dwarka<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Emperor – King<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Court – Castle<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Human – Ideal<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peasant – King<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 1.0pt 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">Kamsa
is not actually the prince. He is really the son of his nanny, substituted for
the prince at birth and sent to fulfill the tribute.<o:p></o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I am the man born to be king”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Uttara were free; they struck their tents, loaded their
camels, and were gone, leaving only footprints.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They travelled to the great market of Jaisalmer, three days
to the north, a sand brown city rising out of the desert like a glittering
flat-topped mountain. It was one of the great meeting points; like Timbucktu or
Constantinople it drew merchants, goods, and wealth from an entire continent
and beyond, and in its streets are heard the babble of a hundred languages all
translated into the clink of gold coins. The streets entering the city are
lined with merchants displaying their wares; textiles and dyed fabrics, spices,
worked metals, perfumes, rubies, emeralds, and diamonds, the booty of a
thousand wars and production of entire villages. Nearer the market the crowd
became denser; locals hawking food and beds, prasad and soma. Finally, one
reached the central square, where the market bargained and bartered, the Jain
merchants looked down from the verandas of the mansions and smelled the enticing
scent of commerce and profit.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Inside the haveli is was dark and cool. An inner courtyard
and atrium gave one a view of the pale blue sky and a slight breeze. The outer
walls of the haveli slanted out, sheltering the ground from the sun, and each
window wore a hood, so that direct light would never penetrate. The floors were
cool smooth stone, washed by a woman on her hands and knees every morning. The
house awoke around dawn and bathed in the water from the well, drilled 200 ft
into the earth in the middle of the inner courtyard and giving ferrous and
slightly cloudy water. They drank hot spiced tea, leaves from the hills and
milk from the grasslands. In the afternoon they slept like animals, prostrate
from the heat. In the evening the concluded the business of the day and ate a
meal of curried vegetables and unleavened bread. At night they lit oil lamps
and reclined on bolsters and cushions under the stars. The men recline and
watch the young lightly clad women singers and dancers while drinking deep blue
wine from Rome, or smoking opium from the poppy fields of Myanmar, and playing
games of skill or dice. It was a crescent moon.<o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the desert you cannot refuse a man water or his camels
feed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa, Kura, and Vaisti played together every day. Kamsa and
Kura were almost the same age and Vaisti was two years younger. Kamsa and Kura
would shoot at targets, competing for bulls eyes,and Vaisti would run and retrieve
the errant shots. They would play a game of hide and seek called stalk, in
which two of them would be assassins and one would be the victim. Sometimes
they would play spy, and concealing themselves, would watch someone all day,
discovering their comings, goings, and habits. This made the privy to many
adult secrets, which they shared among themselves as a bond, amin much giggling
and impersonation. Sometimes they would take a camel and go exploring; Kura in
front and Kamsa in back and Vaisti held between them, carrying a skin filled
with water and lunch wrappe din palm leaves, and go far from the camp, stopping
in the afternoon and sleeping in the shade of the hobbled camel, the three of
them curled around each other, sleeping the calm sweet breathed sleep of
children. They saw antelope and deer and snakes sleeping in the sun, bulging in
the middle with the half-digested remains of a desert rat, packs of wild dogs,
and vultures, soaring on thermal currents, spiralling ever upwards into the
blistering sun.<o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">Kamsa was 14 years old.<o:p></o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa lived among the Uttara for a year and a half. His
skin, which had been pale in the reflected glory of the court, became dark. He
clothed himself as the Uttara did, ate their food, spoke in the dialect of the
tribe. He never told anyone the secret of his birth, they never asked. They
treated him as a member, he regarded them as his brothers. He had been adopted
by the chief of the tribe; he lived with Kura and Vaisti.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa was then 16.<o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 1.0pt 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">There
was news of a giant caravan, laden with riches, approaching from an oasis two
days away. A raiding party was quickly organized and sent to intercept the
train. Kura and Kamsa were selected to lead the party.<o:p></o:p></p>
</div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: .75pt solid windowtext; border: none; mso-border-between: .75pt solid windowtext; mso-border-bottom-alt: .75pt solid windowtext; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; mso-padding-between: 1.0pt; mso-padding-bottom-alt: 1.0pt; padding-bottom: 1.0pt; padding: 0in;">One’s
experiments are confined by the available materials.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: .75pt solid windowtext; border: none; mso-border-between: .75pt solid windowtext; mso-border-bottom-alt: .75pt solid windowtext; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; mso-padding-between: 1.0pt; mso-padding-bottom-alt: 1.0pt; mso-padding-top-alt: 0in; padding-bottom: 1.0pt; padding-top: 1.0pt; padding: 0in;"><i>Many pages on the history of
the Uttara tribe. Not good, omitted.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-between: .75pt solid windowtext; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; mso-padding-between: 1.0pt; mso-padding-top-alt: 0in; padding-top: 1.0pt; padding: 0in;">Societies,
when resources have firmly defined possibilities and have grown to maturity,
generate splinter groups, colonizers, rebels. This partition is natural.<o:p></o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal">Plot Summary (in chronological order)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jayesh rules Dwarka, a petty kingdom in India, at an
unspecified historical time. He must pay a tribute to the emperor (by
suggestion, a Mughal). One of the forms this tribute takes is that the heir
apparent must reside in the emperor’s court util he reaches the age of
succession.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jayesh’s wife is pregnant. They are no longer young, and do
not want to give up their child. One of the palace servants is also pregnant,
with a similar due date. When the children are born, they exchange the babies.
The servant, not wishing to be separated from her child, is sent along to the
emperor’s court in the role of wet nurse to the prince.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa, as the child is named, grows up in the imperial
court, never knowing he is not the real prince. He receives a Mughal classical
education while retaining the cultural habits of Dwarka. He studies the arts of
war as well as philosophy and law. He is much impressed by the glory of the
imperial court.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When Kamsa and Akayla (the true prince) are 12, Jayesh
breaks peace with the emperor, does not pay the tribute, and establishes Akayla
as the crown prince. Kamsa’s nanny hears of this and sends Kamsa off with a
trader, telling him the secret of his birth, that he is actually her son
(fathered by the king?) and switched at birth with Akayla.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa flees with Al-Haroun, concealed in a bale of silk. On
the third day the caravan is ambushed by a group of pirates called the Uttara.
After being discovered in the booty, Kamsa is adopted by the tribe.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Akayla is cruel, autocratic, ostentatious, and hugely unpopular.
Many believe that he is an imposter. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What happened to the true prince, held by the emperor in
tribute?” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He was killed by the emperor himself.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I heard he escaped.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He is not Akayla in any case.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa has never told the Uttara of his birth or past. One
day, when the Uttara are in the market, selling their plunder, Kamsa is
recognized. Propelled by the will of the people and the military might of the
Uttara, Kamsa ascends the throne of Dwarka.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa’s character is shaped by dualities. He feels great
affinity with the common people, regards them as his brothers, and expresses
his love through democratic egalitarianism. The people perceive him as the man
born to be king and express their love for him through a total allegiance to a
hierarchical class system. Kamsa is a reformer and uses his popular mandate to
implement his enlightened program of social equality. However, in doing so, in
destroys his political base, the hierarchy which determines that he is king.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa is also limited by his inability to discard the
imperial structure in which he was raised. His belief in the “benevolent dictator”
and “philosopher king” co-exists with his knowledge that he is not truly the
man born to be king, his pure idealism can only be sustained on the basis of a
falsehood, he is not really who he is supposed to be. This is a dangerous
secret, and he uses all his cruel and regal powers to protect it, subverting
his social and political program.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The fundamental contradiction in Kamsa’s nature is an inability
to perceive differences in scale. His ruling is based on an imperial model,
having enormous wealth and power at the disposal of the king, yet he rules a
petty principality, with limited means and resources. His social philosophy is
base on a small tribe, without history, yet he rules over tens of thousands of
people living in an ancient social framework.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thus, the basic problem is a problem of scale.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The solution is the story itself, a tale of epic concerns:
political, social, historical, religious, cultural, geographical, taken from a
miniature episode in the great epic the Mahabharata, and expressed as a short
story.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However, all this is merely a prelude to the story of the
Mahabharata. The story in the Mahabharata is this.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa is a wicked tyrant. There is a prophecy that the son
of his sister shall slay him. To protect himself, Kamsa systematically kills
his sister’s children at birth. However, by a miracle, one of his nephews, Krishna,
is born and is immediately transported to a village, where he grows up minding
the cows, playing the flute, and seducing the girls of the village out in the
fields.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Krishna eventually kills Kamsa and takes over the throne.
There are two interesting parallels:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Krishna goes from being a commoner to being king, but this
is totally correct.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the Gita, Krishna reveals to Arjuna the secret of scale.<o:p></o:p></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-86210097887232968402020-08-15T11:00:00.002-07:002020-08-15T11:14:37.927-07:00Krishna and Kamsa - Notebook I<h2 style="text-align: left;">Kamsa</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa, lying in his bed at the top of the palace, fanned by
an unseen servant, is unable to sleep. Palace intrigue, assassination attempts,
his ultimate place in history, his lack of an heir, all weigh on his mind.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He is a modern man, with existential fears. He feels
trapped by the extent of his personal power and the use he has made of it; all
his plans have come to naught.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa gets up and walk about the walls of the fort, bathed in moonlight, feeling very alone yet followed by a cadre of guards.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He is ruler of all he surveys, yet it brings him no
happiness. Everywhere events are spinning out of his control. He sees foreign
armies marching on him from beyond the horizon, his infrastructure collapsing,
himself as an old man.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">Gorbachev – the last Communist?</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa awoke, and was afraid. For many years he had thought
that this was a consequence of being a king; it was only recently that it had
occurred to him that fear was a consequence of being a man rather than a king. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In his youth, in the palace of the emperor, he had
encountered the greatest minds of his generation, absorbed the riches of a
thousand cultures, observed first hand the greatest philosopher king of his era
rule with wisdom and justice, for the god of the people and the glory of the
empire. He had travelled among the people, incognito, learning their ways and
their speech. When he ascended the throne, he felt as if the world was at his
feet and history at his fingertips. He was still a young man.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He began with radical reform. The ministers, sycophants,
hangers-on, and flatterers of his father’s court, who had served for many years
in their posts, grown comfortable and content, he fired. He brought in his own
advisors, friends who he had met on his travels, his teachers, and his
followers, all men he knew and trusted, who bad been with him through the thin,
he brought with him for the thick. They were friends of his boyhood, he thought
of the as his friends for life.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">Glasnost and Perestroika</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa’s first move was to abolish the class system. That
priests and nobles should enjoy wealth and privilege simple by virtue of their
birth seemed to Kamsa inherently wrong, he himself brought an untouchable to
the palace, and washed the man’s feet, and embraced him as a brother. The
crowds cheered, the priests sat in stunned silence, the nobles gathered and
issued a call to arms.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa impounded the noble’s arms and the priest’s temples
and icons. He seized all the wealth in the kingdom, and then redistributed it,
according to the amount of need and the enhancement of labor; he gave the
beggar enough to feed his family and the skilled weaver his own loom. He gave
land to those who worked the fields, horses to those who cleaned the paddocks,
houses to those who cleaned the floors. He decreed that every citizen was
entitled to food, shelter, and clothing, and that any citizen who needed could
simply come to the palace, and ask, and it would be given. All this he called
restructuring.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He threw out all the unjust judges and said all trials and
crimes would be judged by a jury of peers, in an open court. He created a forum
where any man could come and protest a law he felt was unjust; if enough people
agreed with him, the law would be changed. If there was no law, one would be
created, according to the concerns of the people involved. Private estates were
turned into public parks. And all people were invited to take any dispute straight
to the palace, where the king would personally hear their complaint, and rule
in favor of the wronged party, and see that justice was done. All this he
called openness.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa issued decrees; that did not make it so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A group of nobles banded together in a castle
on the outskirts of the kingdom. They banded together under the aegis of “tradition”
and “our sacred way of life”.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa, gathering the friends of his youth around him, massed
his troops and marched 20 days across the desert, and defeated the rebels. He
used a new technique of battle, discovered on his travels, called “blitzkrieg”.
The battle was bloody, but it was the first step.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">“Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness” != “Peace,
Land, Bread”</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">His time, incognito among the people, taught him the reality
that all men are equal. But over time, as he surrounded himself with advisors,
it became less of a reality and more of a concept, until finally it was simply
the words that were said while know-towing to the king. Perestroika became
patronage. It was difficult to explain the concept; the kind himself, when
pressed, would say it meant that when you meet a man in the desert you give him
water. As Dwaraka was on the sea, this made very little sense to the people.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The problem is administrative. Kamsa himself could not hear
the facts of every dispute; he then appointed the incorruptible friends of his
youth as judges; they became corrupt.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa wondered why people continued to steal when property
had been equitably distributed. He thought it reasonable for the poor to steal
from the rich; in the end the poor stole from the poor; the courts were full as
before, and equality slipped further into a concept.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa began as a populist and became a tyrant.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">Absalom, Absalom </h2>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">The circle of advisors grows closer …</h3>
<p class="MsoNormal">While there were problems, Kamsa continued, in large part
because of the class structure he had worked so hard to dismantle. Eventually,
as the momentum for reform slowed, and Kamsa’s personal popularity waned, the
divine right of kings became the sole backing of Kamsa’s populist edicts.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After the clergy had been banned, the temples stood empty
for many years. Kamsa tried to turn them into housing for the classes that had
been oppressed. But the people would not inhabit the dwellings, saying the old
prayers and covering themselves with ancient superstition, they could only be
put into the sanctum by force, against a frenzy of fear for their everlasting souls,
and the backed out of the temple as soon as the guards had left, murmuring fervent
apologies to the idol and leaving the temples once again deserted.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The sycophants eventually proposed a solution; the structures
should become temples once again, but re-dedicated to Kamsa, who of course
would merely represent the collective will of the people.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The priests were brought out of hiding to maintain the edifices
and write new prayers. The idols were brought back. The people once again came
to humbly pray. The only difference was that the name over the doorway was
Kamsa’s, rather than Vishnu’s.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the temple of Kamsa, before mirrors rather than idols,
the people prayed to Vishnu for deliverance. The untouchable man Kamsa had brought
to the palace, and seated on the throne, and washed his feet, this man knelt
outside the temple, fervently praying for a Messiah to come and free the
kingdom from the yoke of the great Satan. Vishnu answered him, “yes, I shall
come, and live among you, and when the time is right, I shall reveal myself,
and slay this tyrant.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The untouchable, his prayers answered, returned to the hole
in the ground where he slept and where the priests dumped the waste of the
temple.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
</div>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">David and Jonathan </h2>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">The level of intrigue increases proportionally with the
amount of power involved.</h3><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To ensure loyalty and obedience, the emperor required that
the eldest sons of all the kings in his domain be raised in the court of the
emperor. Kamsa, less than a year after his birth, was separated from his family
and brought to the court of the emperor, where he was to spend the next twelve
years.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the court Kamsa learnt many things: astronomy,
mathematics, music, archery, painting, horsemanship, law. The most learned men
in the world came to the court, to pay their respects to the emperor, and Kamsa
listened to their tales and stories of distant lands and different peoples and
cultures with great interest.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He got an exposure to learning and a respect for ideas. He
also saw the imperial glory that wealth, power, and sophistication can create.
He learned the language of the court, the lingua franca of scholars and poets.
He heard the greatest poets of the age recite their works, and the saw the emperor
get up and recite some couplets of his own composition, and head the court
arise, and applaud, and praise the greatness and qualities of the emperor.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He had with him a small retinue of servants and keepers. His
nanny sang him to sleep with the lullabies of his home, his cook prepared
traditional meals, despite the differences in produce and spices. They spoke
their local dialect, played the tribal game with stones and sand, dressed in
the style to which they were raised and kept the customs of their home alive.
Once a year, on the emperor’s birthday, Kamsa’s father, the king, would come,
to pay the tribute to the emperor and to visit his first son. Kamsa thought it
was odd, this old man who came with hundreds of strangers, and asked him what
he had learned. When he was very young, Kamsa had hidden in his nanny’s skirts,
when he was older, he learned the proper modes of address and bearing, and
these yearly meetings took on a formal and staged air. Kamsa never met his
mother, he had not yet been weaned when he was taken to court, and his earliest
memory was taking suck at the breast of his nanny, a local peasant woman who
worshipped him as her life’s glory, that she had nursed this future king.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa had a group of peers in the court, other local
princelings of his age. He became friends with the heir apparent of a
neighboring kingdom who was almost his age, Jinnah. They grew up together,
playing children’s games, then learning the adult pastimes. In the arts of war
they were evenly matched, many nights they stayed awake, reconstructing the
great battles of history with pebbles and sticks, creating the terrain with the
contours of a blanket. They swore undying love for one another and shared
blood; in swordplay, when one had the other at his mercy, he would laugh, and
pick to other up, and embrace him.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was a period of great scientific progress, these young
princes of the court, witnessing every day reports of tremendous advances, felt
that the secrets of the universe were just around the corner, that one only had
to take the next step, and all would be explained. They didn’t realize that
ultimate knowledge retreats like the horizon, ad each step of progress only brings
new vistas, not the edge of the world. Still, they felt armed with this
knowledge, and their soon to be assumed power, that this was the dawning of a
new age, and age that was theirs to shape and form according to the most
enlightened principles on the age.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As the emperor’s birthday approached in the twelfth year of
Kamsa’s captivity I the court, Kamsa noticed people treating him differently.
Then, the night before the emperor’s birthday, Kamsa’s nanny woke him up.
Outside the city was celebrating, the sounds of revelry and intoxication filled
the air, and bonfires raged in the central squares. The nanny said “You must
flee, your father is not going to pay the tribute. My brother will take you
into the desert. Cover your face with this cloth and do not speak. Here is some
food. May Vishnu be with you. Now go.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thus ended Kamsa’s youth.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
</div>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">Into the Desert </h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">The streets are alive with the sounds of celebration;
laughter, screaming, music and drunken missteps. Kamsa slipped through the
crowd, protected by his cloak of anonymity. He walked through the narrow, twisting
alleys, stepping over cow feed and human excrement. Oxcarts rattle over the
cobbled streets, pigeons roost in the carved sandstone facades of the havelis,
men spit red-stained mucus onto the pavement. Kamsa moves across all this life,
not entering but stepping carefully through the shadows.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The sentries are not at their posts; Kamsa slips unnoticed
through the checkpoint and out the east gate.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">A Camel’s Load of Silk </h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">Al-Haroun traveled at the head of a train of camels
overburdened with bales over bales of silk, white foam covering the bits in the
phlegmatic lips. They traveled by night.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Soon the tents and squatter’s huts set up to catch the
wealth trickling down through the cracks in the royal edifice begin to thin
out. They ascended a rocky incline, the camel’s strides keeping their narcotic
rhythm steady. At the ridge Al-Haroun stopped the train and got down to piss
onto the ground. Kamsa got down as well. Three strange men arrived on the rise
and greeted Kamsa in the language of the court. Suddenly, as huge noise split
the silence. All four turned back towards the city.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fireworks, gifts of the emperor of China, flared across the
sky, bursting into explosions of color, marking the first minute of the emperor’s
birthday. They stood and watched until the explosions ended. The three kinds
consulted among themselves in a strange tongue, pointing repeatedly at the spot
in the sky where the fireworks had been. Finally, they remounted their camels
and started down the incline, towards the city of the emperor. Al-Haroun
started the train again, and they descended into the shallow sand, away from
the kings, into the fathomless desert.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The moon rose full over the crest of a dune, surrounded by
thousands of stars, pinpricks in the deep blue blanket of the nighttime sky. It
was very quiet. They passed some tumbleweed and desert trees, where Al-Haroun
stopped and let the camels feed on the prickly leaves. He offered Kamsa a drink
of water, and Kamsa drank. He slipped off his chappals and felt the cool dry
sand between his toes. Then they started again.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They travelled like this for several nights.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On the third night they were ambushed. A group of diacots
came over the crest of a dune, screaming war cries and brandishing their curved
Rajasthani swords. The fight was short, Al-Haroun was one of the casualties.
Kamsa did not resist. The pirates led the camels to the north, into the loin of
Ursa Minor.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The brigands returned to their camp, hobbled their camels,
and unpacked their booty. The elders sat around the fire, in order of power and
seniority, eating from a large common bowl with their fingers, hunkered and
balanced on their heels, commenting on the quality of the items that the
raiding party spread out before them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Trussed and blindfolded, Kamsa listens to their speech. It is
a patois of the imperial lingua franca and Kamsa’s native tongue.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The tribe feasted late into the night on the provisions that
were to last Al-Haroun and his drivers all the way to Tashkent. As morning
broke over the desert they reclined on bolsters of raw bundled silk.<o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">---</p></div>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the desert all men are brothers.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The women are beautiful and free.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How superficial is Kamsa’s understanding of the tribe?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At what level does division of labor take place? At what
level does society generate splinter groups?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Cyclic theories of Political Economy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A problem of scale.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kamsa: Birth – Court – Desert – Coronation – Reform – Invasion –
Fear</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Krishna: ?<o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p>---</o:p></p>
</div>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">Nagpur, 1991</h2><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-12454762909689512772019-04-27T15:18:00.002-07:002019-04-27T15:18:52.314-07:00TrueHe comes to me<br />
With trusting eyes<br />
In his hour of need.<br />
Because he knows<br />
I could never do him<br />
Any harm.<br />
Thankfully,<br />
He won't remember this last time<br />
When it wasn't<br />
True.Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-90109934649167863252017-05-29T14:02:00.000-07:002017-05-29T14:03:08.190-07:00Walls and BridgesIndra's lightning cleft the mountain<br />
Water poured from Shiva's head <br />
A river flowed into the valley<br />
Vishwa-karma, build us a city<br />
<br />
A bright roofed palace to shine in the sun<br />
A great temple carved from living rock<br />
Every person should have a place<br />
And every place should have a purpose<br />
<br />
The making of a city is not for one man<br />
But assistants, crew chiefs, workers, and foremen<br />
Of all these helpers, there was one favorite<br />
Kshitija-mitra built the bridge<br />
<br />
This story exists in many versions and forms<br />
In one, the bridge is a mighty success<br />
Acclaimed by man and god alike<br />
Till Vishwa-karma, in a jealous rage<br />
Curses his student, saying to him<br />
Each bridge you build will stand on its end<br />
And there on its end it will become a wall<br />
<br />
In another it is not a commission of the gods<br />
But a gift to his wife, that goes horribly wrong,<br />
And her curse to him is the walls of her silence<br />
To which he is bound forever long<br />
<br />
Every time I build a bridge it turns into a wall<br />
<br />
I looked at the ruins<br />
Of the land bridge to Lanka<br />
I swayed on a foot bridge<br />
With the Indus below<br />
I walked a pontoon<br />
In the midst of the Yamuna<br />
These may be bridges<br />
But this is not my bridge<br />
<br />
My bridge must be more<br />
Than a way one could cross<br />
It should be, above all<br />
A place for people to meet<br />
To sit, to converse, to enjoy the breezes<br />
Of the river as it flows<br />
Below your feet<br />
<br />
Rocks and rubble and<br />
Stones and rubble and<br />
Mortar and rubble and<br />
Rubble and rubble<br />
<br />
Every time I build a bridge it turns into a wall<br />
<br />
<br />
h/t B. ShivkumarRam Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-6923132021020288762017-04-23T19:36:00.001-07:002017-04-23T19:37:16.680-07:00Jammin Johnny B.Jammin Johnny B. was a guy I knew in high school. He was a couple of years behind me, but he was part of the same social scene, and we hung out quite a bit.<br />
<br />
The biggest reason was music. He was by far the most talented/advanced musician in our crew. He always played the guitar leads while the rest of us tried to keep it together on the most rudimentary, repetitive backing parts - 12 bar blues, Down By The River, Hey Joe, Tales of Brave Ulysses, I'm Waiting For My Man - songs with no changes that you could learn by watching someone's hands and could be "stretched out" to 10 or 15 minute epics.<br />
<br />
He also had the best gear of any of us: a black and white American Strat and some kind of silverface Fender amp. He also played piano, but when he played piano there wasn't anyone who could manage the lead parts, so he usually played guitar.<br />
<br />
The other pull to hanging out with Johnny B. was that his mom was pretty cool. We could get high, smoke cigarettes, play music as loud and as late as we wanted to, and if someone wound up crashing on the couch she would feed us breakfast and send us back to school in the morning without an undue amount of threats or lecturing.<br />
<br />
Their house was pretty nice - way better than his single mom should have been able to afford on a town librarian's salary. I knew that his dad had died several years earlier and that we didn't talk about that, so I assumed that there was some kind of life insurance money that they were tapping for living expenses.<br />
<br />
The endless jams eventually ended - the rest of us got good enough so we didn't need to watch John's hands to learn the songs, and John got into more advanced stuff - he would want us to back him on "My Funny Valentine" and the rest of us would be like "no, let's play I Wanna Be Sedated". Another reason was that John really didn't enjoy drugs and the rest of us really did enjoy drugs - he wasn't a dick about it but there were different sets of motivations in play.<br />
<br />
College didn't go as smoothly for Johnny B. as it did for most of the rest of the crew. I think he started out at one of the hippy/granola private schools - Hampshire? That didn't work out, so he came home. Then I think he went to Berklee for a while, but after a few years he was home again, and by then I had moved away and didn't see him that often.<br />
<br />
Almost entirely second hand after this point, but depression became a severe, unrelenting problem. He was in and out of institutions and the occasional status reports of "oh yeah, he doing great, he moved out to X and he's doing Y" became a steady drip of "yeah, he's still .../aw man, that sucks".<br />
<br />
I guess they had exhausted the avenues on medications and were trying more radical treatments to get Johnny B back. Last weekend they were running electro-convulsive treatments on him, but then his heart stopped and they couldn't get it to beat again.<br />
<br />
The funeral is tomorrow but I'm 8 hours away and have a couple of trips to airport(s) to pick up the family as they return from spring break so I probably won't go.<br />
<br />
Not asking for mojo now - he's dead, nothing to be done about that. And honestly I don't think there was ever a point where mojo would have made a difference - there was something wrong with his brain chemistry and we don't know how to fix that.<br />
<br />
But I miss him, and I wish we could go back up to his attic and play those endless jams just one more time.<br />
<br />
RIP JBRam Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-34250527775018432782016-12-11T15:28:00.001-08:002016-12-11T15:28:37.936-08:00A Question of Agency<span style="font-family: Garamond, Palatino, Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 19px;">I was raised in a house where we never said Grace. My father did, however, invariably thank the cook for preparing such a wonderful meal.</span>Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-58473489340146308652016-12-11T15:23:00.000-08:002017-05-29T14:03:26.421-07:00The Fantasy of FiftyThe women stayed up past<br />
Their self-appointed bedtimes<br />
The men they drank well past<br />
Their self-apportioned quotas<br />
<br />
And we talked of this and that<br />
Deep into the night<br />
<br />
(She said)<br />
You guys look just the same<br />
Which seemed a little strange<br />
As many years have passed<br />
<br />
But when I looked<br />
I saw that it was true<br />
These are the faces that I knew<br />
<br />
Back when our kids were small<br />
At soccer in the fall<br />
Or at the camporee<br />
<br />
The sparks fly up<br />
The flames die down<br />
But the coals keep burning red<br />
Until the morning<br />
<br />
How could this come to be<br />
This quirk of memory<br />
Has time been standing still<br />
<br />
Has familiarity<br />
Buffed our faces free<br />
Of all the things we’ve shared<br />
<br />
Or wiped away the masks<br />
That flatten out our pasts<br />
Affording us a glimpse<br />
Into each other’s souls<br />
<br />
The sparks fly up<br />
The flames die down<br />
But the coals keep burning red<br />
Until the morning<br />
<br />
In the bathroom light<br />
My eyes are deep and dark<br />
With bags as black as coal<br />
<br />
I was so surprised<br />
When I looked into my eyes<br />
I didn’t know myself<br />
<br />
It’s the fantasy of fifty<br />
The fantasy of fifty<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-90983202866650751132016-01-03T17:50:00.000-08:002016-01-03T17:50:24.409-08:00Here's to 2005<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So, what happened in 2004?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Well, none of the important things
changed:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>same wife, same kids, same job,
same house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Laura got a new job, working in the Budget
Office of EPA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Arvind is four.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started the year still liking Thomas the
Tank Engine, but then he got into super heroes: Superman, Batman and the
Superfriends, watching the tv cartoons and reading the comic books, hitting up
his parents and grandparents for ever more elaborate super hero costumes and
pyjamas, refusing to wear anything but a super hero costume (accessorized with
the appropriate cape, natch) to school or to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as we had gotten up to speed on the
lingo and had acquired sufficient super hero clothing so that we were not doing
laundry every night, he, of course, moved on, leaving us the state of uncool
parenthood where I expect we will be spending most of the next twenty
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now he is into PowerRangers and
Scooby Doo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure by Spring it will
be something else.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Ravi is 18 months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has picked up all the human-type skills,
like walking, talking, eating solid food and watching tv.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thinks Arvind is the coolest – follows him
around and imitates whatever Arvind does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ravi now enjoys Thomas the Tank Engine, so hopefully we’ll get another
round out of the super hero stuff as well.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The house has a new coat of paint, new
steps, and additional flowers/bushes/ground cover.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">We traveled quite a bit this year, mostly
short visits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went to Rhode Island in
February, to Manhattan for Padma and Salman’s wedding in March, to Lancaster
County, PA to see Thomas the Tank Engine and Amish people in April, to New
Jersey for JJ’s 60<sup>th</sup> birthday party in May, to Chicago in June, to
West Virginia and Virginia in July to see steam engines and
Harini/Umesh/Avinash, to Rhode Island in September and to St. John, USVI for a
week of sunny relaxation in December.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I was reading Greek history early in the
year: Herodotus, Thucydides, Arrian and Plutarch’s Life of Alexander.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had moved on to Roman history (Gallic Wars)
in Latin when I started biking to work which severely cut into my reading
opportunities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read some Jane Smiley,
a Paul Bowles novel, a book of I.B. Singer stories, and I finished Derek
Walcott’s Selected Poems while we were in St. John.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No writing except for some song lyrics.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I got a 20GB mp3 player this year, so I
have spent a lot of time moving my music collection onto the device.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The CD’s went fairly quickly, but the analog
2/3’s of the collection takes almost twice real time to transfer, so I have
many hundreds of hours left in that project.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is nice to listen to things I haven’t heard in many years, but I am
finding that the audio fidelity has declined significantly in the interim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No original music this year, although I am
hoping to put something together in 2005.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So what else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rode my bike 10 miles to work most of the
summer/fall, which was great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The route
took me along the C&O Canal, the Potomac river, the monuments and the mall,
and my mp3 player came in handy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
played soccer most of the year (twice a week in the fall).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No tennis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I watch a lot of European soccer on Fox Sports World and RAI.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Red Sox won the World Series.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought I would never see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried, I called my father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For my birthday, Arvind got me the DVD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still haven’t watched it.</span></div>
Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-68637041469988809962015-12-31T22:40:00.000-08:002016-03-20T07:41:44.845-07:00Here's to 2016<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">A lot of unhappy things happened last winter: the house fell apart, I got reassigned to work for a sociopath, my dad died. It was stressful, and when bad things started piling up I needed some coping mantras. One mantra was "well, at least my dog still loves me". The other mantra was "you know, I think the Red Sox are going to be good next season". I spent a lot more time with this mantra, because baseball is a game of infinite possibilities and also because Appa and I had shared a lifetime of Red Sox fandom. So trying to fall asleep at night, and hoping to keep the sadness at bay, I would go over and over in my mind how the Red Sox winter moves could play out, successfully, over the season to come.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">Then winter turned to spring, and we sprinkled Appa's ashes in Narrow River, and spring turned to summer, and I was unhappily unemployed, and through it all, the Red Sox sucked. It all went to shit: every bad possibility came true and every fail safe backup proved inadequate. I followed every game and they remained mired in last place.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">And now summer has turned to autumn and uutumn has turned to winter, and it is finally time to say goodbye to 2015. The Red Sox have been active this offseason and, who knows, maybe in 2016 it will all work out.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: uictfonttextstylebody;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">And if not, my dog does still love me. So here's to 2016.</span></span><br />
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Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-3123778791120967122015-08-01T14:23:00.000-07:002015-08-01T14:24:20.762-07:00Houseplants<p>The story is that before I was born an office colleague gave
my father a Jade plant leaf. The leaf sat in a glass of water on the windowsill
above the kitchen sink in Kendall Park, and by the time I was born it had
sprouted a small set of hairy, white roots. On leaving Kendall Park, to accommodate
our growing family, the leaf was wrapped in a wet paper towel and deposited in
one of the many moving boxes. When we arrived in Rhode Island the leaf was
eventually retrieved and planted in the dirt of a small clay flowerpot. Having
moved several times myself I find the wet paper towel survival story to be
somewhat improbable, but not outside the realm of possibility. In any case, I have
very early memories of that first Jade plant in a corner of the dining room and
of a second Jade leaf sitting in water above the kitchen sink. They were watered
regularly and periodically repotted and they grew into glorious bonsai-style
trees which outlived him and are still alive today.
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In my house we have one houseplant, a Christmas cactus. It
has been with us a long time. I forget if it had to travel in the moving van but
if not we bought it shortly after we moved in. It sits in the original plastic
pot on a narrow windowsill in our too-small kitchen and I have never repotted
it, just like we have never redone the kitchen. Still, I water it regularly and
it is not unhappy. In fact, it blooms quite reliably at Christmas, lending an
authentic festive note to the celebrations alongside the hothouse Poinsettias and
the stiffening corpse of a Pine tree.
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<p>
Arvind’s Biology class has been studying Mendel
and tonight his homework involved Punett diagrams. Calculating the matrix
cross-products takes him only an instant, but drawing and quartering the
squares is a hard, laborious task. I watch his hands as he works and outside of the nails bitten down to the quick his fingers are precisely like mine.</p>
Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931847.post-57175959301891491292015-04-21T07:29:00.000-07:002015-04-21T07:29:03.242-07:00The MattressThe mattress is probably 45 years old. Queen size mattress with a box spring, a metal bolt-on frame, and a dark wood headboard. Amma might have replaced the mattress when they moved to the house in Kingston ten years ago but I doubt it. It is definitely the same headboard.<br />
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After Appa’s strokes they rented a hospital bed and Amma slept on a cot next to him. Getting the bed was quite easy – the order went directly from the hospital to the medical supply company to Medicare – certainly easier than lying down on random beds in the middle of the afternoon while wearing all of your clothes in the Mattress Discounters showroom. To accommodate the hospital bed the mattress and everything else moved to a somewhat precarious position leaning against the wall in the hallway.<br />
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Returning home after Appa died Amma didn’t want to sleep the in bedroom, so we left it alone for a few days. The medical supply company took the hospital bed back and I folded up the cot and put it in the closet. When Uncle Bill came he and I re-assembled the frame in the bedroom and moved in the mattress and box spring so we would have a little more space.<br />
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When Uma arrived I switched to the bedroom so she could take the study. The mattress wasn’t uncomfortable, but I still slept poorly amidst a series of bad dreams.Ram Sadasivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13197193757866691437noreply@blogger.com0