The slope uphill from the position where the Norman army had deployed to that where the English shield-wall stood varied across the battlefield, from a moderate slope of one in thirty on the western end and centre, becoming much more steep on the eastern flank up which the French and Flemings must attack- there perhaps as much as one in six. The lower slopes, even above the marshy ground near the streams, would be difficult to traverse even on foot. For cavalry to use that ground risked the horses becoming mired in mud and potentially suffering injury to their legs. To make matters worse the first part of the land across which the invaders would be attacking had recently been ploughed. Rain had made the ground wet- even on the more level land the slope of the hill in the ploughed field would make the approach a hard slog for the infantry and a proper coordinated charge by the cavalry very difficult.
Remarkably, the English allowed the Norman deployment to take place without interference. Had an attack been made when William’s army was only half-deployed, with part on one side of the marshland deployed in line and the other part still in column on the road, the result could hardly have been anything but a crushing defeat for the Normans. But the English simply stood and watched, apparently satisfied to wait on the Norman army to assault the strong position held by them.
Alan wiped a cloth across his face, leaving the material wet and dirty from sweat and dust. Neither he nor Robert had fought in earnest before, and even the more experienced Hugh had never fought in a large battle. “Why are they just standing there?” Alan asked.
Hugh replied, “Harold has fought with Duke William in Normandy. He knows the way we fight. Here he has superb professional infantry- but with a large militia force of the fyrd, no cavalry and few archers. Perhaps he’s not confident his men, particularly the fyrd, can defeat knights on the open field. Perhaps he simply sees no need to take a risk and believes a defensive battle to be the better option. Attacking across that ground and up that hill is going to be a real bastard! If he forces us back and then sends his men down the hill they’ll squash us like cockroaches in the marsh near the streams. I think that St Peter will be a very busy man this day! May Jesus, Mary and Joseph protect us all!”
“Duke William has never lost a battle!” objected Robert.
“True. Neither has Harold!” replied Hugh. “Robert, turn around and I’ll check the buckles on your harness. Then you do the same for Alan. The battle will start shortly.”
The Red Dragon banner of Wessex, the nearest thing that the English had to a royal banner fluttered from the highest point of the English line, very near the centre. Alongside flew Harold’s personal banner of ‘The Fighting Man’, the silhouette in green of a helmeted man wielding sword and shield on a white flag.
Geoffrey de Mandeville’s cavalry were amongst the last to move into position. They were just on the west side of the middle of the leg of the ‘T’, level with the head of the stream that ran to the west. They covered the right flank of the men from Brittany, Anjou, Poitou and Maine, commanded by Alan Fergant of Brittany; their left flank required no cavalry support, being firmly anchored in dense trees and bushes.
Positioned on the left of the Norman section of the line, just to the left of the centre of Duke William’s army, Hugh de Berniers’ squadron was in the middle of the third line of de Mandeville’s cavalry, which was drawn up four ranks deep. Geoffrey de Mandeville’s men kept a close eye on the forces to the left, as the Bretons were not held in high regard by the Normans either for fighting ability or trustworthiness.
Alan saw three things that were notable about the battlefield, apart from the proximity of the opponents. One was its small size, less than 1,000 paces wide and between 200 and 300 paces deep. The second was the total lack of opportunity for manoeuvre, with both English flanks protected by terrain or trees. Like the English, the Normans were drawn up in ranks. Had they charged knee to knee there would have been room for perhaps 500 of the over 2,000 armoured horsemen to engage the enemy. The final item of note was the silence, except for the occasional shout of abuse or challenge from the English which the Normans ignored largely because they couldn’t understand the Saxon tongue.
The silence changed when, next to William’s personal standard of a gold leopard on a red background, was unfurled the large banner of St Peter with its two crossed gold keys on a white background, blessed by Pope Alexander and brought from Rome. At that moment came a roar from the throats of 6,000 Normans, Bretons, French and Flemings.
Those of the English who had not heard the rumour over the previous days were now aware that William fought with the approval and blessing of the pope. William’s men now felt less like wolves ripping at the living body of England and more like crusaders.
The English responded with the load drumming of sword and spear on shields and their ancestral battle chant of, “Out! Out! Out!”
After the papal banner was carried back to a position of safety the Norman assault began. As usual with armies from the continent, the Norman army was comprised of archers, armoured foot-soldiers carrying sword or spear and armoured cavalry. As usual with armies of Norse descent, the English fought solely on foot as infantry with sword, axe and spear.
Alan noticed one more thing. William had kept back no reserve of troops to either exploit a breakthrough or provide protection in case of a retreat. Clearly William saw this as a ‘win at all costs’ battle that would decide the fate of the invasion once and for all.
“Crunch time! May God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost protect us all! Let us place our trust in the Lord!” said Hugh piously.
“Now we earn our half-crown a day!” replied Alan with a nod, crossing himself and bending his head as he made a personal supplication to God for his safety in the coming battle.
“My pay is in arrears! Can I be excused now?” quipped Robert, to ease the tension they were all feeling. The others laughed at the jest and clapped him on the shoulders before standing next to the shoulders of their horses, ready to mount on order. They stood unmounted to avoid unnecessarily tiring their mounts, in what was likely to be a long day for both man and beast.
The Norman archers, mainly bowmen but with a sprinkling of crossbowmen, cautiously approached the English shield-wall and began to fire at close range. Some were over-confident and approached too close. They received a hail of spears, thrown hand-axes and rocks tied to wooden handles, causing some casualties before the Normans bowmen quickly retreated out of range of such thrown missiles, at a distance of 90 to 100 paces.
At close range it was nearly impossible to miss if the archer had a clear target- but few Englishmen were hit by the arrows as the flat trajectory of the shots and the fact that the bowmen were shooting uphill from positions lower than the Englishmen, meant that nearly every arrow fired hit a shield. The crossbowmen proved slightly more effective as some of the bolts were able to penetrate the shields and cause injury to those sheltering behind. The barrage proved to be much shorter in duration than was usual. Each archer carried three sheaves, each of twenty-four arrows; they ran out of missiles after ten to twelve minutes. Their usual method of obtaining reloads was to collect the arrows their enemies had fired in return, but they were denied this by the total lack of return bow-fire.
Behind the archers moved the Norman heavy infantry. Most were wearing chain-mail but a few wore jerkins of boiled leather and padded gambesons. All wore helmets and were armed with sword and spear. The Normans were carrying long kite-shaped shields, those of the infantry somewhat longer than those carried by the cavalry. The Anglo-Saxons carried a mix of similar kite-shields, and also round or even oblong shields- all locked tightly together in the shield-wall.