Normanni simulantque fugam fugiuntque fugantes,
Intercepit eos undique præpes equus.
Ilico cæduntur; sic paulatim minuuntur,
Nec minuebatur callidus ordo ducis.
This account is both intelligible and consistent, but differs wholly from that of Mr Freeman. It had, however, been virtually anticipated by Mr Oman, who in his Art of War in the Middle Ages (p. 25), points out, with much felicity, that
the archers, if unsupported by the knights, could easily have been driven off the field by a general charge. United, however, by the skilful tactics of William, the two divisions of the invading army won the day. The Saxon mass was subjected to exactly the same trial which befell the British squares in the battle of Waterloo: incessant charges by a gallant cavalry were alternated with a destructive fire of missiles. Nothing can be more maddening than such an ordeal to the infantry soldier, rooted to the spot by the necessities of his formation.
Let us compare the two theories. Mr Freeman's, here again, is not even consistent. He first tells us that for the knights to charge, with 'the triple palisade still unbroken, would have been sheer madness'; in fact it was 'altogether useless' for them to advance until the infantry had broken down the palisade.[118] But this the infantry failed to do,[119] whereupon—the cavalry charged 'the impenetrable fortress of timber' (p. 479)! One is surely reminded of the immortal Don, when 'a todo el galope de Rocinante', he charged the windmill.
My own theory involves no such inconsistencies. I hold—not as a conjecture based on a hypothetical palisade, but on the excellent authority of Baudri and William of Poitiers, that the infantry were used for the definite purpose of galling the English by their missiles, and so enticing them to leave their ranks and become a prey to the horse. As soon as their line had thus been broken, the cavalry were to charge.
Up to this point, the English army, as a whole, had kept its formation; but now the strain on its patience had become too great to be borne. Breaking its ranks, with one accord, the whole host rushed upon its foes, and drove them before it in confusion right up to the Duke's post: