The Spirit of Guthrum Speaks: about ruling Hadleigh, Rowland Taylor and this trendy voting thing

By Guest

5th May 2021 | Opinion

Guthrum here. AKA Aethelstan. Danish. King. I came over to the area years ago, loved it. Conquered it. Well, most of it. Call me a migrant worker who put down roots. And the natives, haha.

Anyway, one of my advisors has told me that the folk of Hadleigh are revolting. Yes, they're appalling, I thought, but I love them anyway. But no, apparently they are revolting against something. One of the town's heroes has been, I believe the modern term is, 'dissed'. Rowland Taylor. Not heard of the guy myself but apparently he was well-loved. Personally, I find it's better to be well-feared but … different strokes.

Someone, they say, is using this Taylor's name to slag off the Ealdorman, his Reeves and Guildsmen and women. Not only that, he's mocking various thralls who try to rouse the peasantry from their apathy and do something called 'vote'. Now, we didn't have 'votes' in my day and nobody missed them. If you'd have asked any of my serfs about 'votes' they would have died laughing at the idea. Or just died. But nowadays 'votes' are, as you say, trending. And so is identity theft, if Taylor is not who he says he is.

So I looked into this Taylor guy. Stubborn is not the word. Transubstantiation is not a hill I'd want to die on myself but he did. Literally. And these peasants not only built a monument to him, but they get into a tizz when someone uses his name more than four hundred years later. I mean – too soon? Really?

I'm not a vain king, but even I can't help but feel a little *dissed* myself by this quarrelsome rabble. I mean, I *ruled* after all. I didn't just spout theological arguments and insist on being right. I was right, of course, ask any of my subjects, but the point is I got things done.

Have you ever tried to rule the people of Hadleigh? Believe me, it's not easy. When they're not demanding weregild, they're complaining about Danelaw, and insisting on free parking for their blade-wheeled chariots.

And trolls. Don't get me started on the trolls.

But I managed it. And, to do it, I compromised.

When Alfred the 'Great' (debatable) defeated me, his sword over my head, I took the difficult decision to convert to Christianity. I could see he had a point. Against my throat, haha. Was that so bad? It's the bigger man who says 'you're right', right?

Compromise can get you through almost any situation. It's an under-rated virtue. Especially in Hadleigh it seems. Outside of St. Mary's Church, I rarely get a mention. No statue of me. Not so much as a plaque. Just a street name – and not even one off the high street. A king who chose this poxy town to be buried in deserves better. But no, it's all Rowland Taylor this and Rowland Taylor that.

Maybe that's why you lot are so dysfunctional. You need to learn to compromise. Too many red lines, not enough grey areas.

Less Rowland, more Guthrum. You get me?

     

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