Hastings 1066

On the 14th October 1066 two armies clashed on a hillside in East Sussex, two different cultures, two different forces, two different tactics and two different leaders. Two men... one crown.

A large contingent (though certainly not all) of the Saxon Army had fought a battle near York just weeks previously, though they had travelled for most of the time they were well rested and heavily reinforced with local troops, Harold and his Brothers (one of which, Gyrth, owned the land the battle was fought on) had essentially two different types of soldiers available to them, the Fyrd were the local militia, due to give a certain time each year to their master for military purposes, usually until they had run out of the foot they would bring with them, the majority of the Saxon Army was made up of these men, little or no armour, carrying a spear (or two if lucky) and perhaps a shield. Some had bows and most had a stone attached to the end of a stick to throw as a missile weapon. Alongside, or rather in front of these men would be the Housecarls, the Thegn's and Lords of the army, each man a professional soldier in times of war, armoured in chainmail, helemtn and shield, bearing a sword or axe they too usually had a spear or two too. The tactics used by the Saxons was simple. The bigger professional men stood in the first few ranks, the men in their prime right at the front, behind were the Fyrd ready to fill in any gaps whilst pushing against the rear of the elite troops when it came to the deadly scrum of medieval combat, whilst at the same time throwing missiles, rocks, spears and loosing arrows at the oncoming enemy. It was the Shieldwall, the immovable object, the rock against which the tides of the Normans would hopefully break against. It had worked in the past, in battles against Norse and Danish raiders and invaders, it was Scandinavian warfare at it most lethal, a brutal up close, smell your enemy shit himself and get his blood on your face kind of warfare. The Normans fought differently.

William of Normandy had three types of troops available to him, his foot soldiers came from all over Normandy and beyond, armed with mail, helmet, shield, Sword and Spear, similar in appearance to the Housecarl Elite but not in the same playing field when push came to shove (came to stab). He also had plenty of archers and maybe even Crossbowmen (the Bayeaux Tapestry shows an Archer with a different type of bow and arrows to the others, its thought the weaver, am Anglo-Saxon woman to boot, didn't know what one looked like) he also had armoured horsemen, not the massive beasts and men you might associated with later medieval knights, looking just like the footsoldiery they had lighter spears called lances. A Norman Cavalry charge saw the horsemen charge up to the enemy but not attempt to crash through them (horses don't do that, they are too bright) instead the Lance was launched into the enemy, thrown in other words, I write launched as that is where the word "lance" comes from. Obviously when the battle breaks up the Lances could be couched, tucked beneath an arm and used to impale an enemy, but that wasn't the primary use for a while yet.

The Anglo-Saxon Army of Harold II spread across Senlac Ridge, with Harold at the centre inspiring his men, his brothers held strategic points also encouraging their men. Soon the Norman soldiers would march up the hill, the Norman cavalry would sweep up to attack, but first came the archers. It didn't work. reports of the battle indicate the first volleys of arrows fired uphill simply passed over the heads of the Saxons or slammed into their shieldwall, the next phase was to send in the infantry, on the Norman left Alan (the Red) of Britanny had brought a massive contingent of his countrymen, in the centre Duke William led his own Normans, the right wing was commanded by Eustace II of Boulogne who led men from the rest of France, Italy and indeed the rest of Europe. At the head of a papal banner they trudged up the slope to face the Saxon's, all of which drummed a steady beat on their shields and chanted "Oot, oot, oot" an older custom and an older word for "Out". The Normans walked in formation, matching the line of shields with the enemy, the rocks and missiles thrown by the Fyrdmen crashed and smashed into the ranks coming on, felling a few here and there, but it was when the shields kissed that the killing became slaughter. With your friends pushing from behind and the enemy stabbing at you from the front it was a miracle you would survive, barely able to wield your weapon, some Saxons carried massive axes, accounts say that they could cut both man and horse in two, the numbers of Normans were met by the quality of the Saxons and soon the quality proved itself. Time and again the Norman infantry came on to be beaten back in bloody pulses of action, in between which the cavalry would have a go. At one point word got round that William had been killed... his men became unsure and faltered, wavered, then some ran. William wasn't dead and had to remove his face guard and lift back his helmet to prove to his men he was still alive. After house of bloodshed the Housecarls numbered were beginning to thin, the Norman Infantry too had begun to crack, suddenly the Breton left wing broke, men began to stream and run away from the line, the Saxons believed they had won and a large contingent broke their shieldwall to chase the fleeing Bretons, the Saxons now in the open proved an easy target and Wiliam quicly ordered his cavalry to sweep in and slaughter their foes with brutal efficiency, Its not known if William deliberately employed this hit and run tactic or if he just got lucky but its thought he tried it a few more times as the day wore on.

And it did wear on, the Saxons ranks were thinning, Harold needed to move to his right flank to bolster the line after losing so many men to Williams feint's, the Norman infantry was shattered and exhausted so in went the Archers once more, this time with the orders to fire up into the sky so the arrows would fall down on top of the enemy and not miss completely. One archer took an arrow from its sheaf, placed it on his bow, raised his arms and loosed, all in the space of a couple of seconds, an act he'd done dozens of times that day, with varying results, but the result of this one time changed the world. For that arrow was caught by the Anglo-Saxon King Harold II, in the eye. badly wounded, probably dead or dying Harolds Housecarls dragged his body back to the centre of the line where his men stood thickest. William must have seen or heard something, something had changed, the Saxon's had begun to leave and look backwards, the Fyrd were moving away, in dribs and drabs, a trickle, then a flood. The Cavalry came one more time, one final time, hacking and slashing at the enemy who now had gaps in their Shieldwall, a group of knights flung themselves at a knot of Housecarls protecting someone, they slashed their way through with swords and butchered the King in a frenzy so brutal only his mistress could later identify parts of his body from tattoo's she knew he had.

The Battle was over.

The world was changed forever.

Ghost stories abound at Hastings, or rather Battle Abbey, the place William Duke of Normandy, King of England, built to atone for the bloodshed of the day. The Abbot originally wanted to build in a slightly different place but William forced the construction to take place on Senlac Hill, this had the unfortunate consequence of obliterating much of the battlefield so any visitor today cannot really appreciate the struggle the Normans would have had in attacking uphill, though what is left of the battlefield is a pleasant walk in summer, in winter it can be a different matter. The impressive Abbey also caused a small village to come into being just outside of its grounds, named Battle in remembrance of the fighting done there. I have to point out at this moment of writing this (2023) that there is a possibility that the Abbot did indeed get his wish to build the Abbey elsewhere and the Battle may have been fought slightly more north, personally I think the battlefield today is THE battlefield from 1066.

There are a handful of ghosts associated with the Battlefield, one is that of Harold Godwinson’s mistress being seen searching the hillside for her dead lovers corpse, supposedly on the anniversary every year a Norman knight is seen charging headlong up the hill on his warhorse to dissappear as he reaches the top, this is thought to be a herald or troubador of William’s who had asked for the honour of being the first into combat, thus granted he spurred his horse uphill, crashed into the Saxons and killed two men before being dragged from the saddle and butchered. Lastly is a spirit not associated with the Battle at all, a monk is seen walking through woodland near some ponds (installed by the monks from the Abbey for keeping fish for food). His name and why he haunts has been lost to time sadly.