by Jack Lindsay
The question of Harold’s perjury or disloyalty was crucial for the Norman case, and William did everything he could to stress it. His formal challenge of Harold to single combat was a feudally correct action in the circumstances, which no one expected to end in a duel. The Bayeux Tapestry is conceived throughout in the vein of the chansons de geste, where a vassal’s betrayal of his lord is a central theme in those with feudal rather than crusading backgrounds. These chansons were already known in some form in the second half of the eleventh century, and there may even have been a jongleur at Hastings. We may discount the stories of Wace, but we have also the statements by Guy of Amiens and William of Malmesbury. The latter says that William
with serene countenance declared aloud that God would favour his side as the righteous one and called for his arms. Presently when through his attendants’ haste he had put his hauberk on back to front, he corrected the mistake with a laugh. ‘My dukedom will be turned into a kingdom.’ Then he struck up the Song of Roland so that that man’s warlike example might stimulate his soldiers, and called on God for aid. So the battle began on both sides.[314]
As the hauberk was of mail, such an accident could easily happen in a hurry. A minstrel Taillefer (Incisor Ferri) rode before the duke; later he was credited with singing of Charlemagne and of Roland and Oliver at Roncesvalles as he charged. The Tapestry says that William urged his men to fight viriliter et sapienter, bravely and wisely: terms that suggest the virtues of the epic hero, who is sage et preu, sage et hardi.[315] The two qualities are typified in the Chanson de Roland by the heroes Roland and Oliver. The traitor betrays both his feudal and his crusading duties; Ganelon is a faithless vassal who joins with the Saracens and betrays Roland, the epitome of loyalty. The barons might excuse him for the disaster he brings on the Frankish army if his motive had been personal revenge, but the charge of treason can have no pardon. The theme of betrayal pervades the Tapestry and gives its narrative a unifying force; the oath over relics is prominent in the Chansons. Betrothals are thus sworn; and the whole action of the Covenant de Vivien is based on an oath taken on a Gospel Book; in Raoul de Cambrai the emperor and the forty hostages promise Raoul his fief by an oath on relics. Gautier swears that Bernier is a traitor; on relics Guerri takes the oath to avenge Bernier. The theme of the Tapestry is that of Roland: ‘A traitor causes both himself and others to perish.’ The lesson of the main narrative on the Tapestry is underlined by the little fable-scenes that run along the borders; they have been carefully chosen to express the same moral from all sorts of angles. At times the tale is a simple one. A goat is allowed a short time to say mass by the wolf preparing to devour him, but at once he breaks his word and calls up the shepherd and his dogs. Other fables are more complex. A lion cheats his three companions and takes all the four quarters of the quarry, the first three by guile. The wolf is to be king while the lion is away; the lion makes him take an oath (in which relics are mentioned) not to eat flesh. The wolf swears, then by various tricks and a final outburst of violence he eats up all the lion’s subjects. He, the vassal, cheats the true king. And so on. A further aspect of loyalty emerges in the Chansons, which, though not directly relevant to Harold’s plight, is worth noting because it brings up the question of the feudal bond as opposed to the tribal bond of the kindred. The kin of Ganelon rally to his cause and bring about the fight between Pinabel and Thierry; when. Pinabel is killed, the Franks say that Ganelon and his kin sureties should all be hanged; and so they are, on a single tree. In Girard de Viane, the kinsmen of Ganelon, whom the queen has affronted, fight against her, so that again kinship comes before feudal loyalty. We may compare the way in which Ydelon objects when Charlemagne orders him as liegeman to avenge his emperor on Richard son of Aymon. Ogier goes even further in a similar situation. In other cases, to save the breaking of faith with a lord, kinsmen have recourse to stratagems, as Turpin does to save Ogier or as when kinsmen of Renaus urge Roland to strike only one blow at him por sa foi aquiter. In actual life the same sort of symbolic trick was used. In 1047 Ralph Tesson was one of the conspirators against William and had sworn to smite him at the first chance; but realizing that William was going to win, he galloped up and struck him lightly on the shoulder. He then felt he was free of his oath.[316]
The Normans stressed the story of Harold’s perjury to cover up the weak case they had. William of Poitiers throws in: ‘And if a claim by blood is demanded, let it be noted that the son of duke Robert touched king Edward in near kinship, for Robert’s aunt, Emma, sister to Richard II and daughter of Richard I, was Edward’s mother.’[317] But we may be sure that once William had asserted his claim, he passionately believed in it. The eastern crusades, soon to follow, exemplified the way in which these men so often found it hard to distinguish an exalted religious aim from the crudest material objective. The church itself set the way with its complex set of rationalizations and its confusion of worldly power and property with heavenly rewards, and men’s minds shifted easily and excitedly from a base earthly motive to a spiritual or moral one, which was fervently accepted — even if a certain cynicism refused at times to be stifled and came out into the open in characters like Rufus.
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To return to the war preparations. The largest foreign quota seems to have been the Bretons, who came from a rough area thick with poor knights. They formed the left wing at Hastings. Despite the many conflicts of Normandy and Brittany, there was much penetration by Bretons into Normandy, for instance in the Bayeux area, where in the eleventh and twelfth centuries the ruling class included many of them.[318] Troops were also recruited from Maine, Aquitaine, Flanders and France: these made up the right wing at Hastings.[319] Footsoldiers, among whom were many archers, a few crossbowmen (according to William of Poitiers) and engineers, came from unknown areas; and there was a large crowd of camp followers, squires, valets and purveyors. Many horses had to be collected; the Tapestry shows them in nearly every ship. The largest number in one ship is ten, though we cannot expect verismilitude in such details; the artist no doubt put in as many as he could. Wace, the Channel Islander commissioned a century later to write an epic on the Norman dukes, was told by his father that William gathered 696 ships and many small boats. Other writers, wanting a more impressive number, speak of one to three thousand. We can only be sure that the flotilla was huge by the standards of the day.
It began to assemble at the mouth of the Dive, and by 12 August was ready to sail. The speed of the mustering and the ability to hold such a large body of men and ships in good order for several weeks were proofs of the high reputation that William enjoyed, his organizing ability, and his ducal resources, which he must have long been building up for this moment. His magnates were abashed at the largeness of the project, but he maintained a steady confidence. The attack had to be made in 1066, otherwise Harold would consolidate his position, and the army gathered under papal blessing and banner would break up and the Norman barons would lose heart. William had hoped to sail in July and the delays taxed his energy and resolution. Poitiers says he caught an English spy and returned him unpunished, with a message for Harold. ‘Tell him that if he does not see me within a year in the place he now strives to make secure against my coming, he may remain quiet for the rest of his days and need fear no harm from me.’ Harold could not find out when and where to expect the blow. After gaining recognition at York he came back to London. Between February and May his people had been agitated by Halley’s Comet, which had begun to streak the north-west sky.
William was following up his diplomatic contacts. Eustace of Boulogne was keen to share any English plunder, but as Edward’s brother-in-law he was a possible claimant to the throne. So William demanded his son as hostage. Baldwin of Flanders as usual had an equivocal role; he was William’s father-in-law, but a sister of his had married into the Godwin family. It has been suggested that he refused William aid as the French regent, but gave it as the count of Flanders. However, the only direct evidence is from Wace and William of Malm
esbury. Wace says Baldwin was sent a blank piece of parchment on which to fill in what reward he wanted for his help, and that he deceived Harold as to the number of troops mustering under William; Malmesbury, that he helped ‘with sagacious counsel, in which he was very strong, and by supplying troops’. But neither statement is worth much, though Baldwin certainly helped William with his benevolent neutrality.[320]
Moreover, William had to take into account what Tostig, the Danes, and the Norwegians were doing. Sweyn Estrithson of Denmark, Cnut’s nephew, was persuaded to promise support, through fear of a Norwegian attack. But the stalwart Harald Hardrada was more dangerous. He had fought in Sicily, the east Mediterranean and Persia, had made a fortune while Varangian guard at Byzantium, married a Russian princess, and gouged out the eyes of a Byzantine emperor. The last of the wild, roving Norsemen, he had returned in 1047 and managed to withdraw Norway from Danish control and bring it under his rule. He had a claim to the English throne, based on a pact between Harthacnut and Magnus. Tostig meanwhile had been harboured by Baldwin, together with his wife Judith; the pair wintered at St Omer in sumptuous quarters. Tostig was in touch with Hardrada. Scandinavian sources tell of his visits in quest of aid, but may merely dramatize the arrival of envoys with letters. In early May he had made a trial attack, perhaps with covert aid from both Flanders and Normandy, ravaging the coasts of Sussex and Kent. At Sandwich he landed, seeking recruits (as his father had done some fourteen years earlier). An old comrade of northern campaigns, Copsi, joined him with seventeen ships from the Orkneys. Plundering along the eastern coast, he was beaten off by Edwin and the Lindsey fyrd; and barred by Morcar from Northumbria, he went north to Malcolm in Scotland, where he spent the summer, hoping for men from Norway. A pact was finalized, no doubt with the Orkneys men as intermediaries. Hardrada gathered a fleet (said to be three hundred ships) and sailed for the Tyne. Tostig was promised that his aid would earn him the restoration of his earldom. This time there must have been many Flemings with him.[321]
In September Tostig and Hardrada devastated the coast of Yorkshire and sailed into the Humber, then up the Ouse to Riccall. Some two miles south of York, at Gate Fulford, they routed at much cost a force under Edwin and Morcar on 20 September, Wednesday. York submitted and Hardrada moved to Stamford Bridge on the Derwent. Harold decided to risk leaving the south unprotected against William and to march north. He had had trouble in holding his levies together for three months while William was detained by the steady north winds. On 8 September he disbanded the fyrd, who were keen to get home for harvest, and went to London with his retainers. A part of his fleet followed him; the rest were dismissed. In September William moved his ships, or had them forced by a westerly gale, up the coast to St Valéry (in the county of Ponthieu); whether or not he intended the move, it cost him many ships. Drowned men were secretly buried; some soldiers deserted. The main wind was still contrary. The saint’s body was taken from the church and carried round, while the army prayed for a change of wind.
Hardrada had set up headquarters at the old royal manor of Aldby, while hostages were brought in from all over Yorkshire. By 24 September Harold was at Tadcaster. Next day, Monday, he defeated Hardrada at Stamford Bridge. Norse accounts cast the battle into heroic formulas. Tostig, confronted with Harold, finds the call of kinship stronger than the recent act of homage he is supposed to have made to the Norse king; Hardrada, promised the traditional seven feet of earth, is contrasted with Harold, who is short though standing up well in his stirrups.[322] The Norsemen seem to have been caught off guard, and were without their byrnies (leather jerkins sewn with studs or metal rings) on account of the heat of the day. The saga says the English used cavalry and archers, while the invaders fought on foot with axes, swords and spears. The bridge was forced. Then, perhaps after an interval, the main attack was launched on Hardrada’s shieldwall up a slight slope about three hundred yards above. The banner passed from Hardrada to Tostig, who was then also killed. Reinforcements from Riccall came too late. (The account reads rather like the battle of Hastings in reverse and may well have been modelled on that battle.) Harold, with his usual cool prudence, let Hardrada’s son, Olaf, and the earl of Orkney go home with the survivors in twenty-four ships. One of the defeated, Godfred Crovan, an Icelander, later conquered the Isle of Man. Stories told how Harold was at a triumphant banquet in York when a messenger arrived with news that William had landed at Pevensey on Thursday, 28 September. The first of October would have been the very soonest the news could have reached York. Harold’s losses had been heavy; the survivors must have been exhausted. But at least the north was now safe.
William had sailed at last, late on 27 September. The wind had changed. On the Tapestry the Mora and one other ship alone have no horses; he was no doubt unencumbered so that he could sail ahead in a fast ship. Indeed by midnight he found himself separated from his fleet, despite his masthead lantern. If Harold had had patrols out, William might have come to an abrupt end. But he kept his nerve, ate a high-spirited meal with spiced wines, and at last his fleet caught up with him. Early in the morning he landed on what is now a dried up basin, Pevensey Bay. (The Tapestry sets the banquet here on land; William is with his two half-brothers, and we see a woman and child escape from a burning house.) With his large and loaded fleet he could not try hit-and-run tactics, as Tostig had; he needed a secure beach-head. He must have had many sailors and guides who knew the coast well, and we may guess that he had first aimed for Southampton Water — Tostig in May had raided the Isle of Wight and Edward had landed thereabouts in 1035-6. It was further away than Kent, but the Isle would have made a good base for attacks in various directions, across land to Winchester and on to the Thames. At the worst it could have been held through the winter, for fresh invasion attacks in early 1067. Driven to the north, William now decided to make for the Cinque Ports. He had lost so much time that he may have wanted to land nearer London and try a quick decisive action.
He began building fortifications at once, with a rampart dug inside the Roman fort; but the site was too exposed. The coastal area was backed up by the big Andred forest and contained many ports loyal to Harold’s family. He could hardly have known as yet what a favourable moment had been thrust on him against his will, with Harold far away and his army weakened by its losses. The westerly gales had caused Harold at least as much trouble as they did the Normans, driving his ships up the Channel and round into the Thames. If William had had some desertions, Harold had had to release all his local defence bands. William decided to move a little eastward to Hastings; there, on what was a peninsula made by the swampy estuaries of the Brede and the Asten, he could set up a castle and lay waste the hinterland. For a fortnight, apart from the building and some reconnaissance, nothing much happened. The site was not much use for attacking from, but excellent if a retreat became necessary. Local labour was conscripted to help with the fortifications. Robert fitzWomarch (Wymarc) is said to have sent a message that William had no hope against Harold’s forces and if he didn’t give up the expedition, he would have to fight behind fortifications. William of Poitiers says Robert was ‘a certain rich man, Norman by natio’; presumably he knew both Normandy and England. (He may have been a Breton who had settled down after service at Edward’s court.)[323] ‘In my opinion,’ he declared, ‘against Harold your troops are no more than contemptible dogs.’ William sent back thanks for the counsel, but announced that he would stay on the defensive. ‘I’m confident that even if I had only ten thousand men as good as the sixty thousand I’ve brought with me, through their courage and God’s aid he and his army will be destroyed.’ He certainly did not have even 10,000 men; possibly there were about 5-6,000 fighters on either side. But we are reduced to guesswork; 4,000 men was a portentous army in those days. Closed in by downs and forest and lacking clear news, William must have been uncertain what to do.
Meanwhile Harold, with his liking for speedy campaigns and forced marches, seems to have covered the 190 odd miles to London by 6 O
ctober. He stayed there some five days, waiting for what reinforcements he could hastily collect, and perhaps hoping Edwin and Morcar would arrive. According to Poitiers, he was infuriated by the devastations made by the Normans around their camp; he hoped to make a night attack or catch them by surprise, cutting off their bridgehead while sending a strong fleet to hem them in from the sea. About 11 October, with his brothers Gyrth and Leofwin, he led his men south over the weald, along a forest track. By the night of 13-14 October he had reached the Sussex downs. His men came out of the trees at Caldbed Hill on to higher ground which was linked by a lower neck to a cross-ridge running south-east. In the small hours of the 14th, William, warned by his scouts, moved north-west from his camp along the line of the present Hastings-Battle road. On Telham Hill, three quarters of a mile west of the highest point of the ridge, he saw the English gathering along the next ridge. The Chronicle suggests that Harold was taken by surprise. He ‘gathered a great host and came to oppose’ William ‘at the grey appletree, and William came upon him unexpectedly before the army was set in order’. Again, Harold ‘marched from the north and fought against him before his host came up’.[324]
Harold and his house-carles, his brothers and their retainers, had horses. Most of his men were tired and posted in some confusion. On the other hand, William and his men were in a very narrow bridgehead; only a slight reverse would have been disastrous. Perhaps it was at this moment that William challenged Harold to single combat; more likely, if the challenge was ever made, it was done months before by envoy. (Poitiers reports an exchange between William and Harold, in which each punctiliously set out his claims; and William offered to take his case to court to be judged by English or Norman law, or else to undergo a duellum, an ordeal by battle. More likely, each man briefly justified himself and defied the other.) When a Fécamp monk pressed for an answer, Harold is said to have replied, ‘We march straight on.’ Then, ‘We march to victory.’ The place recalled by the English as the Grey Appletree was called by the Normans Senlac, a corruption of sand-lac, sandy brook. (Senlac, Sanguelac, could be interpreted as Blood-lake.) William chose to attack. He addressed his men, reminding them that they had always won under his command and pointing out the desperate nature of their situation if they failed; he denigrated the English as soldiers and vaunted the justice of his cause. The Normans then marched out of their encampment. The English seem to have believed that they would not be assaulted in their superior position.