Feudal England: Historical Studies on the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries

by John Horace Round

To resume: accepting provisionally Mr Freeman's view (iii. 770) that there were two disasters to the horse, one 'happening comparatively early in the battle', and the other 'which William of Poitiers, Orderic and the Battle chronicler place at the very end of the battle', as occurring in the pursuit of the defeated English, we find that the former is mentioned by five writers. The Tapestry and Wace agree absolutely in making it an episode of the real flight of the Normans before the great rally; Henry of Huntingdon assigns it to the great feigned flight, later in the battle; William of Malmesbury seems to make it happen during the pursuit by the Normans after their feigned flight; the anonymous writer quoted by Andresen (ii. 713) from Le Prevost may be left out of the question. Yet, in spite of all this contradiction, Mr Freeman assigns this striking episode, not as a conjecture, but as historic fact, to the pursuit of the English by the 'Bretons'[¹²⁶] after the feigned flight (p. 489). Let me make my position clear. We expect an historian to weigh, as an expert, the evidence before him: we look to him for guidance where that evidence is conflicting. But we have a right to protest against the statement, as historic fact, of hypotheses which cannot be established, and which are quite possibly wrong. Where the evidence is flatly contradictory, the fact that it is so should be made clear; conflicting statements should not be evaded, nor evidence, such as that of the Tapestry, appealed to, when it proves to be opposed to, not in favour of, the writer's hypothesis. Dealing with the Conqueror's march on London, after his great victory, Mr Parker has insisted with much force, on the principle for which I am contending.

Though, by leaving out here and there the discrepancies, the residue may be worked up into a consecutive and consistent series of events, such a process amounts to making history, not writing it. Amidst a mass of contradictory evidence, it is impossible to arrive at any sure conclusion.... It is, however, comparatively easy to piece together such details as will fit of the various stories, and still more easy to discover reasons for the results which such mosaic work produces ... [but] it cannot be reasonably regarded as real history. The method by which the results are obtained bears too close a resemblance to that by which ... some of the legends described in the fifth chapter have come to be accepted as historical narratives.[¹²⁷]

That is the danger. Such a narrative as that which Mr Freeman has given us must 'come to be accepted as historical' if allowed to pass current without a grave warning. It will doubtless be replied that in his appendices, he frankly admits that 'it is often hard to reconcile the various accounts'; but the question at issue is whether one is justified when, as here, the various accounts are not only 'hard' but impossible to reconcile, in constructing a definite narrative at all, instead of honestly admitting that the matter must be left in doubt.

THE GREAT FEIGNED FLIGHT

There is no feature of the famous battle more familiar or more certain than that of the feigned retreat. It is necessary here to grasp Mr Freeman's view, because he discovers in this manœuvre and its results the decisive turning point of the day.[¹²⁸]

That there was a great feigned flight, which induced a large portion of the English to break their formation and pursue their foes, is beyond question.[¹²⁹] But Mr Freeman, on this foundation, built up a legend, for which, we shall find, there exists no evidence whatever. He first assumed that it was 'most likely' the left wing of the assailants which 'turned in seeming flight'[¹³⁰] (p. 488), and that it was, consequently, 'the English on the right wing' who 'rushed down and pursued them'. Thus:

Through the rash descent of the light-armed on the right, the whole English army lost its vantage ground. The pursuing English had left the most easily accessible portion of the hill open to the approach of the enemy (p. 490).

The result, of course, was that 'the main body of the Normans made their way on the hill, no doubt by the gentle slope' at this point (Ibid.).

The great advantage of the ground was now lost; the Normans were at last on the hill. Instead of having to cut their way up the slope, and through the palisades, they could now charge to the east right against the defenders of the standard (Ibid.).