I hate underdogs, don't you? I know it's meant to be the British way to back them against the big boys but there's something about plucky, rosy-cheeked optimism in the face of overwhelming odds that really winds me up. Even when they do succeed, like the Vietcong or Barnsley at Anfield, I can't help but wait for some divine karmic retribution to be swiftly metered on their smug, over-achieveing little faces- as will happen to the Tykes when they play Chelsea or happened to Vietnam when they got rid of the Americans only to welcome coach-loads of sex tourists at the border.
We can all trace this back, of course, to David twatting Goliath in the eye with a pebble (which he probably never stopped dining out on for the rest of his life) but it was another optic injury that really started off the British trend for blind faith in the little guy. When William the Conquerer beat Harold on the battlefield of Hastings he set the standards for underdogs triumphing on British soil as he was, under no set of circumstances, meant to beat his infinitely more well organised, better equipped and plain smarter English opponent.
Regular readers of this guff will have spotted that yet another one of my historic stories is on the way so sit back, relax and let me tell you why William the Conquerer was, in fact a jammy imbecile who, having fluked his way to glory, alienated the populace of London during his own coronation in a way that frankly beggars belief.
The story of 1066 is one we all know from Primary School though, just to reiterate, if it wasn't for the fact that Harold had to fight Viking invaders (led by the monumentally monikered Harald Hardrada: Thunderbolt of the North) at Stamford Bridge in Yorkshire then the Normans 300 miles away at Hastings just over a week later William would have got, what many exalted historians called "a proper fucking twatting". Instead, he edged the battle, saw off Harold and claimed the crown. His coronation was set for Chirstmas Day at Westminster Abbey.
William, being French and having just usurped a popular monarch, was a little wary that the English wouldn't take too kindly to him and so posted guards outside the abbey during the coronation ceremony just in case an angry mob tried to get in and kill him. This may have had something to do with his men torching and robbing every village between Sussex and London as they marched on the capital. Just for the hell of it. Please remember that the next time one of your young relatives has an exchange programme at their school and has to put up a surly Gallic teenager for 3 weeks. And hide the matches, just in case.
Anyway, William's cornonation got off to a good start and all seemed to be going to plan when it came time for the exaltation of the newly-crowned king by the thronged masses in the church. William had decided to use the extablished English style of coronation, rather than the Nornam one he and his men were used to. The Norman version was entirely solemn and lacked the audience participation of the English ceremony so, when the crowd began exclaming 'Long Live The King, May The King Live Forever' in their native tongue, the men stationed outside the abbey had no idea what they were saying and so decided that a rebellion had broken out inside the church.
They could, at this point, have seen what was going on indoors but, instead, they decided that London needed to be subjugated and promptly burned half of it to the ground! As far as I can tell, this is the only instance in history of a man celbrating ascending to the throne of a country by laying waste to it's capital city. It's a good job no-one had invented sub-machine guns by this point or he may have run out of subject to rule altogether by the end of the festivities.
This part of the story of 1066 is little recalled and not a part of any school's syllabus which is not surprising as history is written by the winners and our nation's history sees Willaim's conquest as a turning point and the start of our fascination with those who beat the odds, rather than, say, the beginning of a nationwide suspicion of French usurpers torching cities. Had he failed at Hastings, we wouldn't be a nation of Tim Henman, The 'Barmy Army' getting drunk as well capitulate at cricket and Children in bloody Need every year.
And most galling of all, if Harold had won, I wouldn't have had to spend the week watching insufferably optimistic Barnsley fans on Sky Sports News.
