Now, let us consider what is involved in the theory here set forth. 'Harold's skilful tactics', we find, consisted in entrusting his weakest point, the least defensible portion of his position, to 'the least trustworthy portion of the English army'. The natural result of these insane tactics was that his weak point was forced, and the English right turned.[78] And Mr Freeman, having made this clear, complains of 'the criticisms of monks on the conduct of a consummate general', and insists that 'nowhere is Harold's military greatness so distinctly felt as when ... we tread the battlefield of his own choice'. But there is worse to come. Such tactics as these would have been mad enough, even if these raw peasants had stood behind a barricade; but if, as I hold, that barricade is a purely imaginary creation, we ask ourselves what would have happened to these unhappy creatures, protected by no 'shield-wall', and armed with 'such rustic weapons as forks and sharp stakes',[79] when, first riddled by Norman arrows and then attacked by Norman infantry, they were finally, broken and defenceless, charged by heavy cavalry. The first onslaught would have scattered them to the winds, and have won, in so doing, the key of the English position.[80] Remembering this, it is strange to learn that 'the consummate generalship of Harold is nowhere more conspicuously shown than in this memorable campaign', and that his was 'that true skill of the leader of armies, which would have placed both Harold and William high among the captains of any age'. But if the generalship of Harold was shown by entrusting to his worst troops his weakest and most important point, while posting 'the flower of the English army' just where his ground was strongest, what are we to say of 'the generalship of William, his ready eye, his quick thought', if he failed to detect and avail himself of this glaring blunder? For instead of concentrating his attack upon Harold's weak point, he left it to be assailed, we learn, by 'what was most likely the least esteemed' portion of his host,[81] while he himself with his picked troops dashed himself against an impregnable position like a mad bull against a wall. 'We read,' says Mr Freeman, 'with equal admiration of the consummate skill with which Harold chose his position and his general scheme of action, and of the wonderful readiness with which William formed and varied his plans.' For myself, I should have thought that the tactics he describes—tactics which stirred him to a burst of admiration for 'the two greatest of living captains'—would have disgraced the most incompetent commander that ever took the field.

But Harold, after all, was no fool. Are we then justified in accusing him of this supreme folly? Mr Freeman held that 'the relative position of the different divisions in the two armies seems beyond doubt'. There is, however, as I said, absolutely no evidence for Mr Freeman's assumption that the English right was entrusted to the raw levies. Against it is the fact that in this quarter the first assault was soonest repulsed: against it also is all analogy drawn from the study of English tactics. Snorro's description of Stamfordbridge is evidence, at least, that 'the fortress of shields' had a continuous line of bucklers along its whole front: Æthelred gives us the reason in his story of the Battle of the Standard; namely, that it was the front line which had to meet the shock ('periculosum dicebant si primo aggressu inermes armatis occurrerent'). It was therefore an essential principle of tactics 'quatinus armati armatos impeterent, milites congrederentur militibus'.[82] Therefore on Cowton Moor (1138), as (I hold) on the hill of Battle (1066), we find the 'strenuissimi milites in prima fronte locati'.[83]

The words 'and the lighter troops behind them', which originally followed here, have been objected to by Miss Norgate, who had originally made the same statement,[84] but who now wishes to withdraw it.[85] Henry of Huntingdon, however—like Æthelred, a contemporary authority—agrees with him in describing the dismounted knights, men with shields and loricæ like the 'housecarls' at Hastings, as forming an 'iron wall' along the English front.[86] If then mailed warriors formed the front line, it is difficult to see where the 'inermis plebs', as Æthelred terms it, could be but 'behind them'. The fact is that the Battle of the Standard, for which we have excellent authorities, is of no small value for the study of the Battle of Hastings, as my opponents seem to be uncomfortably aware. 'The tactics,' Mr Freeman admits, 'were English.' We find there again the same dense array,[87] the same tactics for defence, though now rendered less passive by the development of the bowman.[88] There can, I think, be little question, if we combine the several accounts, that the Standard, with the older chiefs around it, formed the kernel of the host;[89] that the rude levies of the shire were massed round about them;[90] and that the outer rim was formed by the mailed knights, with the archers crouching for shelter behind their 'iron wall'.

Harking back to Sherstone fight (1016), we encounter precisely the same formation. 'The King,' Mr Freeman writes, 'placed his best troops in front, and the inferior part of his army in the rear.' And he added, 'we must remember these tactics when we come to the great fight of Senlac'.[91] This was, unhappily, just what he failed to do. 'William of Poitiers,' he strangely complained, 'has his head full of Agamemnon and of Xerxes, but this obvious analogy does not seem to have occurred to him.' Have we also the reason why our author himself overlooked these obvious analogies in the fact that to illustrate the Battle of Hastings he quotes some five and twenty times from the Odyssey and the Iliad, from Herodotus and Xenophon, from Æschylus, Plutarch, and Dio Cassius; from Livy, Tacitus, Ammianus, and even Ælius Spartianus? In his later edition, however, he inserted in a footnote the words: 'On placing the inferior troops in the rear, see the tactics of Eadmund at Sherstone.'[92] 'In the rear?' Yes, but that is precisely my contention. The assumption that I am assailing is that they formed the wings.

But we are not even here at the end of Mr Freeman's confusion. He had meanwhile, in another work, published about the same time as the first edition of his third volume, written thus:

As far as I can see, King Harold put these bad troops in the back ... But his picked men he put in front, where the best troops of the enemy were likely to come.[93]

This is exactly my own view; it is that 'essential principle of tactics' on which I have insisted throughout, and on which Miss Norgate has rashly endeavoured to pour contempt.[94] Mr Freeman, moreover, further on, wrote of his 'light armed' as 'the troops in the rear',[95] which is again my contention. What seems to have happened is that he got into his head (I can imagine how) that the 'light-armed' formed the wings, and arranged the battle on that assumption. Then remembering, when it was too late, that, according to his own precedent, they ought to have been in the rear, he hesitated to introduce a change which would affect his whole theory of the battle, and compel him to approach it de novo.[96]

But indeed, even apart from this, it seems doubtful, examining Mr Freeman's narrative, whether he had formed a clear conception of how the English troops were arranged, and whether, if so, he kept it in view, consistently, throughout. If we honestly seek to learn what his conception was, a careful comparison of pp. 472, 473, 475, 490, and 505, with the ground-plan, will show that the whole right wing was composed of 'light-armed troops, who broke their line to pursue'. And this view seems to be accepted and defended by Miss Norgate, who, writing as his champion, declares that to her the conclusion embodied in his ground-plan 'seems irresistible'.[97] On the other hand, pp. 471, 480, 487, and 732 most undoubtedly convey the impression that, as I have maintained, the heavy-armed English were extended along the whole front,[98] and that their defeat, in Mr Freeman's words (p. 732), was 'owing to their breaking the line of the shield-wall'. I suspect that he was led thus to contradict himself by the obvious concentration of his interest on 'the great personal struggle which was going on beneath the standard' (p. 487). Here, as is often the case throughout his work, Mr Freeman's treatment of his subject was essentially dramatic. To bring his heroes into high relief, he thrust into the background the rest of his scene as of comparatively small account. In this spirit, for instance, he wrote:

A new act in the awful drama of that day had now begun. The Duke himself, at the head of his own Normans, again pressed towards the standard.... A few moments more and the mighty rivals might have met face to face, and the war-club of the Bastard might have clashed against the lifted axe of the Emperor of Britain (p. 483).