Harold further feeling that he had not the power to prevent the enemy’s horse outflanking him, ordered “that all should be ranged with their faces towards the enemy”—that they should front three sides at least of the square. We see them ([Plate XIV.]) sustaining an attack from opposite quarters, and in both cases fronting the foe. He moreover issued directions “that no one should move from where he was; so that whoever came might find them ready; and that whatever any one, be he Norman or other, should do, each should do his best to defend his own place.” He planted his standard—the dragon of Wessex—on the most elevated part of the hill, and there he resolved to defend it to the last. Nobly Harold fulfilled his purpose—nothing could tempt him from his post—and ere the Saxon ensign bowed to the banner blessed by the Pope, his blood had drenched the soil.
Harold’s men consisted but in part of regularly trained troops. Amongst them were many “villains called together from the villages, bearing such arms as they found—clubs and great picks, iron forks and stakes.” These undisciplined Saxons exhibited no lack of that indomitable energy for which the English race is famous; but, as Harold’s brother, Gurth, remarked, “a great gathering of vilanaille is worth little in battle.”
The numbers of the two armies have been variously stated. Probably Wace is right in saying that they were nearly equal. He sets down the army of William at sixty thousand, and speaks thus of his opponent’s: “Many and many have said that Harold had but a small force, and that he fell on that account. But many others say, and so do I, that he and the Duke had man for man. The men of the Duke were not more numerous, but he had certainly more barons, and the men were better. He had plenty of good knights, and great plenty of good archers.”
The Norman forces, having finished their devotions by an early hour in the morning, were ordered to form in three divisions, the Duke himself commanding the centre, which consisted of Normans. William then addressed his army, saying, “If I conquer, you will conquer; if I win lands, you shall have lands”—telling them, at the same time, that he came not merely to establish his own claims, but also to punish the English for the massacre of the Danes, and other felonies which they had committed against his people. Then they began to cry out, “You will not see one coward; none here will fear to die for love of you if need be.” And he answered them, “Strike hard at the beginning; stay not to take spoil; all the booty shall be in common, and there will be plenty for every one. There will be no safety in peace or flight. The English will neither love nor spare Normans. Felons they were, and are; false they were, and false they will be.”
William was continuing his speech, when Fitz-Osborne, who had been one of his principal advisers in the whole business, interrupted him: “Sire, said he, we tarry here too long; let us arm ourselves. Allons! Allons!”
When William began to prepare for battle, he called first for his good hauberk, and a man brought it on his arm and placed it before him; but, in putting his head in to get it on, he inadvertently turned it the wrong way, with the back in front. He quickly changed it; but when he saw that those who stood by him were sorely alarmed, he said, “I never believed in omens, and I never will. I trust in God. The hauberk which was turned wrong and then set right, signifies that I who have hitherto been but duke, shall be changed into a king. Then he crossed himself, and straightway took his hauberk, stooped his head, and put it on aright; and laced his helmet and girt his sword, which a varlet brought him.”
There is something poetical in the error which William made. He was too good a general to be boastful—he had been too often in the field not to know the difference between the putting on and the putting off of the armour—he knew too well, moreover, the serious nature of the venture which he had made to pay much attention to the duties of his military toilet. His capacious mind
was weighing the chances of victory or defeat, and for the last time reviewing all the arrangements which he had made for either alternative. The Norman Duke, notwithstanding his usual exemption from superstitious influences, did not consider his preparation for battle complete until he had strung around his neck a portion of the relics over which Harold had taken his faithless vow. William entrusted the standard which the Pope had given him to Turstin Fitz-Rou. His demeanour, rendered even more than usually commanding by the greatness of the occasion, seems to have attracted the attention of his companions in arms;—“Never (said the Viscount of Toarz), never have I seen a man so fairly armed, nor one who rode so gallantly, or bore his arms or became his hauberk so well; neither any one who bore his lance so gracefully, or sat his horse or manœuvred so nobly. There is no such knight under heaven! a fair knight he is, and a fair king he will be!”