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England Trip, Day 13 - Hastings
Cat got to see another abbey.
Battle Abbey, to be precise. It was built over the site of the Battle of Hastings. 
Falcons, ruins, and more buildings of historical significance. 
">Cat doesn't find them soo interesting anymore.
At least they're still pretty.

Anyways, History Lesson time.
Edward the Confessor, King of Great Britain had just died and Harold Godwinson, an Anglo-Saxon Duke, declared himself king. It was a rather natural progression since Harold was Edward's right-hand man and ran most of the country anyways.
He was King of England for only nine months.
William, Duke of Normandy, claimed that Edward had named him king, and Harold had promised to support him.
William used his charisma to sway the Norman people, he convinced him that he was in the right and gathered an army.

Now, Harold force-marched his army to Stamford Bridge to fight, and eventually defeat, two viking armies (one belonging to his half-brother Tosig) on September 25th, 1066.
Somewhere between then and October 9th, Harold learned of William's intent, because October 9th began with another forced-march, which lasted five days.

October 14th, 1066 marked the beginning of the Battle of Hastings.
Harold, who knew his troops were exhausted, had his solders form a shield-wall.
William split his troops into two; foot solders in the front, cavalry behind, William among them. 

In the end, William's victory was the direct cause of two things:
1) Harold was on foot, and so couldn't see and direct his troops as fast as William could.
2) Harold's troop was exhausted from facing the two previous armies.

The Normans of that time period also favored a technique that is, in the SCA, called a 'killing cup'. Basically, a killing cup happens when a part of one army fakes a retreat, and when the enemy troops give chase, ranks close-in around them. Any troops caught in the cup are slaughtered.
Cat has often heard the SCA fighters discussing it with much excitement.

So that is what Cat learned about Hastings. 
...Cat finds that is sounds much more interesting in retro-spect.

Anyways, Cat also learned that she had heard wrong, and that this was her last night at the Black Horse Inn.
Cat wasn't too sad. The Black Horse was one of those places for rich snobs, it began at about 70bp a night.

Brie also had a mini-adventure.
On the way back to the restaurant to fetch more ketchup, Brie saw a man in a pink-striped polo was yelling at one of the waitresses. 
Brie immediately went to sic one of the male waiters on the mean pink-man.
All of the staff was impressed that someone 'spoke up for them', and Brie (and Cat, Theign, & Red by default) received smiles along with impeccable service for the rest of their stay.


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