Conquest

They numbered over 9,000 and were organized into three army groups: Breton allies to the left on the western side, French and Flemish supporters and mercenaries to the right on the eastern side and the bulk of the force, the Normans, in the centre. William had adopted an unusual pattern of deployment. He sent his archers forward, just out of range of the English bowmen, his infantry arranged in deep columns behind them and his squadrons of cavalry drawn up in the rear. His own command position was central to the last squadron of cavalry, identified by the papal pallium, held aloft by Pope Alexander’s legate to Rouen.

Flying next to the pallium, stiffened by gusting winds from the English Channel to the south, were William’s standard, the Leopard of Normandy, and the standards of all the warlords of Normandy and surrounding territories: Eustace, Count of Boulogne, an opportunist with a brutal reputation; Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances, who led the prayers before the battle; Hugh de Grandmesnil, a warrior of great repute; Hugh de Montfort, a resolute soldier of fortune; William’s half-brother, the ruthless and ambitious Odo, Bishop of Bayeux; and William’s trusted henchmen who would go anywhere for a fight — Walter Gifford, William of Malet, William of Evreux, William Fitzsbern and William Warenne.

The Duke’s battle cry was short and to the point. He rode out in front of his infantry, in the space between them and the archers, and above the distant din of derision from the English, bellowed in his deep, coarse voice.

‘You have travelled with me on a great voyage to fight on a distant shore. You have done so in the noble tradition of our Viking ancestors. This fight was not of our making, nor was it born from the desire for naked conquest; this land was rightfully granted to me by King Edward of England, a wise and gentle king. We are here to claim what is rightfully ours. The Pope knows this and gives us his holy blessing; the rest of Europe knows this and lends its support. The richest land in northern Europe is before you. Fight to make it a Norman kingdom for your children and your grandchildren. You are the bravest of the brave.’

As the Norman roars echoed up the hill, the English hollered back, until the whole countryside was filled with the ear-splitting tumult of almost 20,000 indomitable men.

Now, there was nothing left for either army to do but fight.

On William’s signal, his archers and crossbowmen advanced within range and began their fusillade at the English shield wall. As they did so, his infantry launched its first assault, making slow progress towards Senlac Ridge. They sang the ‘Song of Roland’ as they went, but the melody soon faded, to be replaced by the shocking clash of sword against sword and the agonizing cries of foe against foe.

After almost an hour of fighting, neither the Norman archers nor their infantry had made much impact on the English shield wall. Every time there was a minor breach, it was filled by equally formidable housecarls from the King’s reinforcements. The circular shields of the English allowed them to close or open their wall at will, gave them much more freedom to brandish their battle-axes and meant that they could adopt the Roman ‘testudo’ — the turtle — to cover themselves against hails of arrows.

The Normans’ kite-shaped shield was much better suited to combat on horseback, where the narrow base could protect the legs of the mounted warrior. As the Normans withdrew, the ground was littered with their dead; hundreds of men had perished — almost five Normans to each Englishman.

It was time for William to launch his much-vaunted cavalry.

His powerful destriers, despite carrying 200 lbs of man and armour, managed a reasonable gallop, even up the significant gradient of Senlac Ridge. As their ground was less steep, the Bretons reached the shield wall first, but did not have enough momentum to dent it. They had to turn sideways to strike with their axes and swords, making them easy prey for the defenders. Much the same happened on the French-Flemish right. In the centre, the much more formidable elite Norman squadrons did make some breaches, but they were easily filled; Hereward and his companions rushed to any vulnerable points to reinforce the wall until replacements arrived from the rear.

Hereward was issuing vital commands in between close-quarter encounters with Norman knights who had breached the defensive line. He brought several down by scything their huge destriers from under them; others he hewed out of their saddle with a single sweep of his legendary axe. At crucial moments, Harold rode along the line, encouraging his men, but they hardly needed it. Their line was holding and the Normans were dying in droves.