The exact details of how, in the end, the Normans managed to capture the Isle, however, are unclear. The Gesta Herewardi implies, somewhat implausibly, that the Normans’ capture of the Isle occurred without much bloodshed at all, after Abbot Thurstan of Ely submitted to the king and invited him to come in secret to the Isle. But it says nothing of the means by which King William was able to cross the marshes that for so long had stood in his way. Earlier, it mentions a causeway that he’d ordered built, across which the Normans had attacked unsuccessfully, the structure having collapsed under the weight of men and horses, resulting in a great loss of life. This story is corroborated by the Liber Eliensis. However, in contrast to the Gesta’s assertion that William arrived in secret, the Liber has a much more dramatic tale, telling of a final assault across a pontoon bridge, although whether this followed the same route as the first causeway is not clear. Having traversed the marshes, the Liber further relates that the king and his army faced a battle against a large rebel army comprising 3,000 men, who had fortified the Isle’s shore. Since it seems unlikely that the Normans faced no resistance at all in their crossing of the marsh, I have preferred this version of events to that provided by the Gesta. However, the details of this struggle are extremely sketchy, and so I have elaborated in order to harmonise it with Orderic’s story of Morcar’s submission to King William.
What became of Hereward after his famous flight from Ely, we can only surmise. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle has nothing more to say about him after this incident, and our other principal sources are once again in conflict. The Gesta Herewardi suggests that, following several more adventures, he was imprisoned by the king, set free by a band of his followers, before at last reaching a rapprochement with the king and being restored to his familial lands, where he lived out the rest of his life in happiness. In Gaimar’s version, too, Hereward is reconciled to the king, but there is an additional coda, in which the former rebel is set upon and killed – albeit after a valiant last stand – by a band of Norman knights. It’s possible that Hereward’s fate was a mystery even to most contemporaries, which is why we have such varying accounts. Alternatively, after his escape from the Isle, he sought refuge overseas, like many dispossessed Englishmen in the years after 1066. Into this gap in our knowledge I have inserted my own tale of Tancred’s pursuit of Hereward through the marshes, the skirmish, and Hereward’s death by Godric’s hand.
Regarding the fates of some of the other rebels, we can be more certain. We know, for example, that whatever accommodation the king reached with Morcar, it was swiftly revoked. Hardly had the earl submitted than he was cast in prison, where he would remain for the rest of his life. Another prominent figure among the rebels, Bishop ?thelwine of Durham, whose role in events is unclear and whom I have mentioned only in passing in the novel, was sent to Abingdon Abbey, where he was held in captivity until he died the following winter. Of the rest, some were imprisoned, while others were allowed to go free, although not before having their hands severed and their eyes gouged out.
One individual who is believed to have met his end during the siege of the Isle is Guillaume Malet. We know from a few short references in Domesday Book (1086) that ‘he went into the marsh’ and that he died during his service to the king, and it seems probable that both statements refer to the Ely campaign. It has been suggested by Cyril Hart in his article ‘William Malet and his Family’ (Anglo-Norman Studies, vol. 19, 1996) that his role would have been administrative rather than military, given his previous failures as a commander in the defence of York, but the truth is that we simply don’t know. The circumstances of his death are likewise a mystery; my contention that he was already dying as a result of illness contracted during his imprisonment by the Danes is pure invention. At any rate, we hear no more of his whereabouts after 1071. The location of his grave is unknown, but given the relative proximity of Ely to Eye in Suffolk, which was the family’s chief estate in East Anglia, it is entirely plausible that his body would have been laid to rest there.
As well as Hereward, Morcar, Malet and the various kings mentioned in the novel who ruled during this period, many of the other characters are based on real historical persons. These include both Roberts – de Commines and Malet – Beatrice and her husband Guillaume d’Archis (William d’Arques), Elise, Thurcytel and Magnus. Tancred’s young charge Godric is also based on a real figure, albeit one who appears in the sources as little more than a name. The Gesta Herewardi lists him among Hereward’s companions, and describes him as a nepos of Morcar – a term that many medieval writers used to describe various familial relations, but which is often translated as ‘nephew’. Aside from this brief mention, however, we know nothing of the historical Godric, and so the character I’ve constructed is essentially fictional.