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.
The Norman infantry plodded up the hill, gasping under the weight of their arms and armour as they struggled firstly across first the low-lying marshy ground, then uphill over the ploughed field and finally up the steep slope as they neared the top of the hill.
On the right flank the French and Fleming infantry were almost having to climb up the hill to the English, so steep was the slope of the land.
At a range of twenty paces the English line suddenly opened and a veritable storm of short-range missiles, javelins, throwing-axes, rocks and a few arrows struck the Normans. This caused them to reel backwards for a moment before regaining their momentum and resume moving forward.
Shield met shield with a clash and the ring of sword on sword could be heard. Spears were thrust on both sides, some finding targets and others not. Here and there the English shield-wall would open and one or two thegns or huscarles carrying massive Danish battle-axes, with a haft five feet long and a razor-sharp blade over twelve inches across, would leap into the open and swing their weapons with both hands. When they hit a shield it was smashed to pieces, and often carried on to cause serious injury to the target. When they hit a man they would cle
anly chop off a limb or hack the man in twain. After several blows the axe-men would retreat back behind the shield-wall.
Although with better training and discipline and equal equipment, the infantry of the Normans and their allies were simply unable to force the mass of the English line back or create any gaps that the waiting cavalry could exploit. Chanting, shouts and screams rent the air. In places the men were pressed so close together that the dead could not fall to the ground and the wounded could not withdraw.
“Well, Plan ‘A’ isn't working. I suppose now it's time for Plan ‘B’. Hopefully the duke knows what he's doing,” commented Hugh as they watched from their vantage point. Alan grunted in reply.
William ordered his cavalry forward to support the hard-pressed infantry. The first two ranks of de Mandeville’s cavalry dutifully trotted forward over the difficult ground. The knights spurred their horses up the already blood-stained hill, their speed slowed by the slope, the slipperiness of the surface and the need of the horses to avoid tripping over obstacles such as bodies, rocks and discarded shields. The cavalry also was met by a hail of missiles that brought some men or beasts to the ground. Then the cavalry either threw their lances and wheeled away, stopped and prodded at the English line with their lances- or swept sideways this way and that seeking a gap in the English line. Norman horses were brought down by spears or javelins and the stunned horsemen killed, usually before they could regain their feet. The Normans found that the axe-men could, with a single well-aimed blow, cleave through shield, man and horse together.
Alan, Robert and Hugh de Berniers stood beside their destriers and watched as spectators from a distance of about 250 paces, becoming more and more morose as the battle wore on. A change-over in the Norman cavalry in the centre was about to take place, with the third rank readying to take their turn.
The banners of both Duke William and Count Geoffrey indicated they were engaged in the attack on the English centre, when suddenly the situation changed completely in almost a moment.
The Bretons and the other allies on the left flank suddenly collapsed. Their commander had asked too much for too long. At first the infantry broke and ran, disorganising the horsemen behind them, who soon joined in the general flight. Many of the right, or western, flank of the Englishmen, who had now for several hours suffered continuous assault, were overcome with bloodlust and anger and believed that victory was close. They boiled past the shield-wall and down the hill. Here the stream and marshy ground was only 250 paces away from the English line, and the English fyrdmen and thegns hit the struggling and floundering Breton infantry and horsemen, hacking, cutting and slashing as they killed every Breton they caught.
Alan and the rest of de Mandeville’s men mounted immediately without needing any order.
“Fucking Bretons! I knew we couldn’t rely on them!” swore Robert.
No instructions came. Alan looked to Hugh de Berniers, who in turn was looking frantically to the north for de Mandeville.
Taking the situation into his own hands Alan raised his lance and bellowed what he saw as the obvious order. “Squadron advance left at the canter!” he roared as he spurred Odin forward. His squadron and the two on each side, glad that an order had been given, advanced at first at a trot and then a canter, heading west- parallel to the English shield-wall and on reasonably firm ground. The fifty horsemen rode stirrup to stirrup over a front about 100 yards wide.
At first they encountered stray Englishmen who were only looking towards the Bretons. Then, at a full gallop, they smashed into the unprotected flank of the large disorganised mass of Englishmen who had followed the Bretons down the hill.
Trying to keep a level head in his first major engagement, Alan was nearly unseated when Odin swerved to run down a thegn carrying an axe and who was looking the other way. He then used his lance to quickly spear one after the other three unarmoured fyrdmen, two of whom were spearmen, before his lance shattered in the third and was wrenched from his grasp. Drawing his sword he angled towards the next horseman in line, shouting to the other cavalrymen to form an arrow-head formation and trying to recover control of the charge, which had now progressed about 300 yards in distance to be level with a small hillock behind the Bretons’ starting position.
They had compressed the English on the western flank to the point that continued progress by the cavalry would be foolhardy. The charge had taken the pressure off the Bretons, whose own cavalry now rejoined the fray from the swamp to the south. At the same time Duke William’s half-brother Bishop Odo of Bayeux, who ostensibly for religious reasons had not so far taken part in the battle, had gathered de Mandeville’s final rank of cavalry who had not followed Alan’s charge, his own bodyguard and whatever other loose horsemen he could find, and had begun to press along the stream to the south closer to the marshy ground than Alan had led his charge.
In the meantime the Norman centre had disengaged and fallen back to its start-line, the left flank of the Normans angled to protect its now vulnerable flank. On the right flank, the Flemish and French commanded by William fitzOsbern, a cousin of the duke, also disengaged and moved back out of missile range of the English line.
Alan’s men returned to their starting position, where they saw Duke William. The duke had removed his helmet and was galloping around proclaiming he was alive. Eustace of Boulogne had seized the papal banner and was carrying it as close to William as he could. Alan gathered that a rumour had arisen that William had been killed, and the duke was in the process of overcoming that rumour. William gathered what cavalry was available on the Norman left flank, including Alan and the men of de Mandeville that Alan had just led, and then led them back into the English still below the shield-wall. There some of the English were making a forlorn last stand on the hillock near the stream, some 200 yards from the main English shield-wall at the top of Caldbec Hill. Hacking and slashing, the Norman horsemen cut them down and stabilized the line.
A protracted break in hostilities then occurred while the English moved troops to their now weakened right flank. At the same time the Normans and their allies re-established their lines, watered their horses at the streams and sat to eat whatever food they had thought to bring with them. In Alan’s case it was a piece of bread and some jerked beef, washed down by clean water he carried in a water-skin tied to Odin’s saddle.
Hugh de Berniers walked up to Alan and handed him a replacement lance before sitting down next to him and clapping him on the shoulder. “That was warm work! By God’s grace we suffered few casualties,” he said as he accepted a swallow of Alan’s water. “It was quick of you to size up the situation and take control over what had to be done. I’ll see that Count Geoffrey hears of it. I’d better get moving, as we’ll be back at it again soon!”
Hugh was correct. After a break of about an hour and a half the Norman infantry and cavalry followed the archers up the now blood-soaked and churned ground of the hill. New supplies of arrows had arrived and this time the bowmen aimed higher, allowing the arrows to fall on the lesser-protected fyrdmen in the rear ranks. The crossbowmen were more effective, with their bolts smashing through shields and into the men beyond.
The infantry struggled past dead and dying men and horses from the previous attacks. Again the English war chants rang out, increasing in volume as the foreigners reached the shield-wall and once again the bitter hand-to-hand fighting resumed. Again the Norman infantry were unsuccessful and were repulsed. Again the Norman cavalry were sent up the hill, but still the Normans couldn’t force the English off the hill or force a way through the shield-wall.
The Normans had noticed that the banners of Harold’s brothers, the earls Leofric and Gyrth, had both disappeared- but still the Dragon Standard and the banner of ‘The Fighting Man’ flew over the centre of the English line. Time and again the Norman horsemen battered against the English line, each time falling back and allowing the hail of Norman arrows and crossbow bolts to resume.
Alan participated in two of these charges. Odin
snorted and cavorted as he rolled his eyes in a mixture of fear and excitement resulting from the smell of blood, the constant shouting- and empathy with Alan’s own feelings of fear. Labouring up the hill, slipping on the spilled blood and stumbling over the fallen bodies of the dead and living, Odin pressed gamely up to the shield-wall to allow Alan to prod with his lance at whatever target presented itself beyond.
In the next charge Alan saw Hugh de Berniers fall from his horse, hit in the thigh by a throwing-axe. Alan forced Odin over to where Hugh stood gamely on one leg, offered him a hand and pulled him onto the pommel of the saddle before turning to trot back to the Norman lines. There, as Hugh was assisted to the ground he slapped Alan’s hand in thanks for saving his life, saying nothing as he was hit by a wave of pain as his injured leg touched the ground.
By now any precision in the Norman attacks, always hampered by the terrain, was a thing of the past. Duke William appeared to have given up on the Norman heavy-infantry, accepting they were not up to the task of forcing their way uphill and through the shield-wall. Instead he was relying on waves of the heavy cavalry that had won him each of his previous victories, supporting them with archers and cross-bowmen.
The horsemen were no longer organised into their original squadrons, and attacks were mounted sporadically as sufficient knights and men-at-arms at the base of the hill felt that they and their mounts were ready for another tilt at the enemy. Blown and exhausted horses were led to the streams to be watered. Some men, on foot and on horseback, could be seen going up Telham Hill on their way back to Hastings. Others were shuttling backwards and forwards to the large tents that been erected on the level ground near Starr’s Green, where the injured were being treated.
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