The name ‘William the Conqueror’ evokes
thoughts of 1066 and the iconic Battle of Hastings, William seizing the throne from
King Harold and establishing a dynasty that would last eighty-eight years. However, every icon of history has their beginnings
and William’s first great struggle was for the mastery of his own duchy. Still only 19 years old, the young duke had
the support of King Henry I and other influential nobles. But several of William’s kinsmen, including
Guy of Burgundy, his cousin, believed themselves to have a better claim to the title. A large coalition of Norman barons formed
to take control of the duchy by force. William will have to fight to retain his title. In early 1035, William’s father Duke Robert
the Magnificent bade farewell to both William and his errant vassals, setting off for the
Holy Land and leaving the government in the steady hands of Robert, his uncle, and the
Archbishop of Rouen. Before leaving he also gathered the Norman
magnates, having them swear an oath to recognise William as their future ruler; however, this
clearly irked some of his kinsmen. At this point, it is useful to consider young
William’s parentage, as this would provide the casus belli for William’s early enemies. William’s illegitimacy may have divided
opinion, but at the time attitudes were still ambiguous. Normandy itself had been established in 911
by treaty, by William’s Viking ancestor Rollo and taking wives ‘in the Danish manner’
was hardly unheard of, though the practice was a source of unease for men like William
of Jumièges, one of the main sources for William’s life. Indeed, Duke Robert had never found a suitable
wife, though he had had a liaison with a girl from the town of Falaise called Herleva. Fulbert, her father, has been described as
an undertaker and commonly a ‘tanner’ though it is unlikely he was of such low-status
stock, probably being a burgess at the ducal court and becoming a chamberlain. Even so, this illegitimate status and the
perceived lack of a strong sword behind ducal authority would set the stage for the first
rebellions against young Duke William’s rule. As for Duke Robert himself: he did make it
to Jerusalem, though he died at Nicaea on the return journey, leaving his bastard son
William his successor back home. Unfortunately for the boy Duke, Archbishop Robert was an elderly
man who did not long outlast his nephew. He died in 1037 and the Duchy became a decidedly
more dangerous place for the young William. Unlicensed castles appeared with no central
authority to keep local rivalries in check. Magnates fought to gain the upper hand over
each other with Orderic Vitalis providing us with a particularly gruesome account of
one William Giroie, who was seized by his enemies at a wedding feast and had his nose
and ears cut off, as well as his eyes gouged out. William himself had been appointed various
guardians, but they proved of little avail. The most powerful died quickly, with Alan
the Duke of Brittainy falling in a siege in 1040 and the Count of Brionne Gilbert assassinated
while on a morning ride. More personal stewards fared no better, with
his tutor Turold murdered in 1041 and his household steward Osbern having his throat
slit, apparently while he slept in the same chamber as the young duke himself. Orderic Vitalis once again provides a colourful
annotation, put in William’s own mouth and supposedly uttered years later on his deathbed: “Many times, I was smuggled secretly out
of the castle at night by my Uncle Walter and taken to the cottages and hiding places
of the poor, to save me from discovery by traitors who sought my death...” Matters darkened around 1043 when the French
King sponsored a rebellion in the heart of Normandy itself. A viscount had been so bold as to seize William’s
birthplace of Falaise and King Henry I even invaded the south of the Duchy to support
this move. What is significant is that the decision to
move against the threat was William’s, an early demonstration of his steely resolve. William had come of age and was invested with
arms by his erstwhile enemy King Henry himself. William’s relationship with his nominal
overlord would prove crucial in the coming years. William’s father Robert had gained Henry’s
recognition of him as his heir, Robert having forged a bond with Henry by harbouring him
for a time from the faction of his mother Constance, who favoured his younger brother
Robert as King. Yet support for William did not necessarily
translate to support for those men surrounding him. In the following years up to 1047, William
removed many from his entourage, with two new major lieutenants emerging by the mid-1040s
in the persons of William fitz Osbern and Roger of Montgomery. With such faithful men at his side, William
began reining in the rebellious lords who had in all the years of his minority simply
ignored his government. The year of 1047 was the breaking point. In late 1046 another rebellion sparked, this
time with the objective of killing and replacing William as duke. William’s cousin Guy was a legitimate grandson
of Duke Richard II and led a disgruntled group of viscounts from western Normandy who were
not about to allow their young overlord to assert his own authority over them. Unfortunately, no contemporary source delves
into any of the details of the battle and events, though luckily a Norman historian
writing around a century later, called Wace, does provide us with a vivid account, which
is likely true in its essential narrative, given the other known facts about the time. Trouble erupted while William rested in the
Western town of Valognes. According to Wace, he was abruptly woken from
his slumber and warned of the approach of Guy’s rebels. It was a close-run thing, with William scarcely
dressed in just his breeches and shirt, and barely having time to fasten on a cloak before
fleeing ingloriously on a horse into the night. He rode hard, reaching the Church of St Clement
(near Isigny) where he caught his breath and prayed for a safe route away from his pursuers,
before crossing the Vire river and reaching Rye before sunrise. At Rye, the fugitive Duke was fortunate to
encounter Hubert, a loyal local lord, who furnished the duke with a fresh horse, as
well as the guard of his three sons before remaining on the bridge to meet with William’s
pursuers. Hubert then led them astray, while William
escaped to his birthplace of Falaise. Having failed in their ambush at Valognes,
Guy and the viscounts quickly seized control of western Normandy and raised an army to
contest William. As for William, unlike in his earlier years
of rule he would not be shunted about from castle to castle instead seeking the aid of
his overlord King Henry, who had agreed to his accession and personally invested him
with arms. This was a shrewd move on William’s part. William was Henry’s vassal, which entailed
Henry protecting and aiding him and so the King mustered an army and marched to William’s
aid in early 1047. William had also mustered as many men as he
could in the East and the two set out to confront the rebels who had amassed their own sizable
force near Caen at a place called Val-ès-Dunes. The battlefield was a wide, flat area, devoid
of woods or rocks: perfect ground for the cavalry clashes that would characterise the
battle. Norman cavalry training was performed in groups
of around half a dozen men, the proto-knights of the era having long swapped out their longships
for warhorses. The conroi was the basic combat unit, consisting
of around twenty to thirty riders arranged two or three ranks deep. With the use of flags for command and control,
these units (contributing to the larger army) could perform controlled charges, flanking
manoeuvres and even ‘feigned retreats,’ though the last of these is highly contentious. The knights of both armies would have fought
with spears, shields, and swords, as we see depicted around two decades later in the Bayeux
Tapestry. The typical Norman knight would have been
trained from a young age, with even the horses themselves specifically bred to carry their
armoured masters. The spears were used for thrusting, but were
often thrown as javelins too, again as seen in the Bayeux Tapestry. The Rebels under the overall leadership of
Guy advanced from the west near the river Orne, while Ralph Tesson of Thury converged
with them from the south-west and the direction of the Laize river. The outnumbered army of Duke William and King
Henry meanwhile also converged from separate routes, King Henry’s marching through Mézidon,
across the Laizon River and then through Valmeray across the Muance to the sight of the battle
just north of Conteville. William himself joined Henry from the direction
of Argences. King Henry and his Frenchmen clashed with
the men of the Cotentin under Nigel, thrusting wildly with spears and when these were broken
or thrown drawing swords. At this point, King Henry was struck from
his horse by an unknown Norman knight, though he fell into his own ranks and was quickly
remounted. The unfortunate assailant however was trampled
by Frenchmen after being surrounded and thrown down. The king then rode throughout his men, encouraging
and striking hard at the Normans, aware that any rumour of his fall may cause his men to
despair and flee the field. Next to engage Henry was Hamon Dentatus, the
rebel lord of Thorigny who also managed to unhorse the king, an unnamed and enraged French
knight in turn charging at him and striking him dead. As for William, a colourful description has
him: “Rushing in, [then] he spread such terror by his slaughter that his adversaries
lost heart and their arms weakened...” Indeed the furious young duke charged at Hardè,
a vassal of viscount Ranulf himself, driving his sword into the area between his throat
and chest, his armour proving useless. It was also around this point that Ralph Tesson,
who had positioned himself to the south-west struck his former allies. Rannulf after this realised which way the
day was turning and led the withdrawal from the fighting, though as knights peeled off
from combat this devolved into a rout. The Royal army followed the great mass of
fugitives west as they attempted flight across the Orne, many being cut down or drowned so
that the mills downstream became clogged with the press of dead bodies. The Battle proved a resounding success for
William, though the victory was largely Henry’s and also crucially arguably a result of Ralph
Tesson’s defection. Count Guy, the revolt’s nominal leader,
fled the field to his own castle of Brionne where William besieged him for around three
years before subduing him and then allowing him to return to Burgundy. Another rebel leader, Grimoald of Plessis,
was not so lucky. It had been Grimoald who had been personally
responsible for the assassination attempt on William at Valognes. Having been captured, the duke imprisoned
and then later executed him as an example. Grimoald’s unlicensed castle was also destroyed,
among others. With his victory at Val-ès-Dunes, the young
Duke William of Normandy had vindicated his right to rule. In the autumn after the battle in nearby Caen,
William convened a great council of his magnates and bishops where a Truce of God was proclaimed:
now private warfare was restricted to certain days of the week, which would serve to curb
the violence and disorder suffered during his minority, with William, of course, exempted
from this prohibition. The balance of power had decisively shifted,
though William was far from secure in his power and would have many more years of struggle
ahead of him on his ultimate path towards the throne of England. The precarious minority of Duke William of
Normandy was firmly set aside with his victory alongside King Henry I of France at the Battle
of Val-ès-Dunes. Yet the young William the Bastard would have
many struggles ahead of him before the iconic conquest that would immortalise him in the
annuals of history. In the years following Val-ès-Dunes, William
consolidated his hold on the duchy, tearing down unlicensed castles and generally enforcing
his own authority on his irritable vassals. Guy of Brionne had fled following his defeat
at the battle, holding out in his near-impregnable castle at Brionne for three years before William
slowly starved him out by building siege castles. With this challenge to his authority dealt
with, the great and the good surrounding the young duke were eager to have him married
to secure the succession and newly-strengthened regime. It was decided that William should wed Matilda,
daughter of the Count of Flanders, a wise match given it would secure an ally to the
east. Curiously, given subsequent events, it may
have been William and Count Baldwin’s overlord King Henry himself who suggested the match,
the potential bride being his own niece and thus of royal stock. Despite the initial objection of the Pope
to the match on grounds of consanguinity, the two were wed by 1051. Yet, though William of Poitiers has the Norman
capital of Rouen celebrating the match, across the Channel Duke William’s cousin King Edward
the Confessor likely lamented it, the Flemish being a traditional haven of England’s enemies. By 1051, King Edward also faced a crisis that
would in time ultimately transform the prospects of William. In what began as a dispute over the appointment
of archepiscopal positions eventually devolved into open conflict between Edward and his
most powerful Earl, Godwin. On visiting the realm in 1051, Eustace the
king’s brother-in-law was involved in a brawl with some of the men of Dover, resulting
in deaths on both sides. Godwin exercised a powerful influence over
the king. Resentful of the overmighty Earl’s power Edward leapt at the chance to topple
Godwin, using the incident at Dover to corner Godwin into a dilemma: either punish his own
people at Dover or rebel. Having chosen the latter, Edward had forced
Godwin’s exile (to Flanders) in 1051. It was around this time that the Confessor
likely confirmed a choice made earlier at a council in March, that William of Normandy
be his preferred successor to the throne of England. Indeed, with Godwin banished Edward set aside
his daughter Queen Edith, hoping to divorce and remarry. The D version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle
confirms a visit by the duke: “...then soon came Duke William from beyond
the sea with a great retinue of Frenchmen, and the king received and as many of his companions
as it pleased him, and let him go again.” According to the historian Marc Morris, the
descriptive “received” meaning as a vassal. That Edward took William as his man indicates
a mutual bond of convenience. King Edward was no fool and likely knew Godwin
and his family would make a bid to return. One safeguard to his own newly-won authority,
as well as to offset the new Norman-Flemish alliance, was to draw William closer to him
with an offer of preference for his succession to the throne of England. If this was the plan then events unravelled
this ambition, given Godwin’s triumphant return to power in 1052. The exiled Earl of Wessex had not been idle
during the previous months in Flanders and, leveraging support within England, he raided
along the coast, ultimately compelling Edward’s climbdown in London by later 1052. Duke William was likely informed of this ill-turn
of fortune by the newly-exiled Robert of Jumièges in the same year, though the banished archbishop
did drag along with him valuable Godwinson hostages that William gladly accepted. Yet the English succession was far from William’s
only concern around this time. Geoffrey Martel, the formidable Count of Anjou,
pursued an expansionist foreign policy by moving into Maine in 1047 and even seizing
the bishop of Le Mans and clapping him in irons. However, such brazen acts provoked the ire
of William’s ally and overlord King Henry, who after summoning an alliance of his vassals,
pushed into Angevin territory. Naturally William, given his debt of gratitude
for Henry’s aid at Val-ès-Dunes, backed his sovereign, participating in the capture
of Mouliherne castle near Angers itself. In retaliation, Geoffrey pushed north in 1051
by Alençon, well within William’s own backyard. William reacted by raising his own force and
heading south to meet Geoffrey head on. The count sensibly avoided open battle, instead
strengthening the defences of Domfront, and daring William to attack it, in the hopes
of drawing the duke into a long siege of attrition, which would drain Norman resources and the
will to fight. Having committed to the siege of Domfront,
William also seized the initiative in confronting the men of Alençon. In what would have been a stunning success,
the duke rode hard for the town, almost catching the men there completely unawares. Luckily for them the burghers of the town
slammed the gates shut. It was then that an infamous series of events
progressed. The brash men of Alençon, certain that William
could not lay siege to both them and Domfront simultaneously, mocked William’s illegitimacy
by reportedly shouting “Hides! Hides for the tanner,” referring to his
grandfather. These insults struck a dangerous nerve and
provoked a brutal response from William, who marched thirty-two recently captured citizens
of Alençon to within sight of their people and had their hands and feet hacked off. This gruesome spectacle was enough to induce
the immediate surrender of the defenders in the citadel and, as word spread to the defenders
of Domfront, they too gave in following assurances that they would not suffer the fate of the
thirty-two at Alençon. Importantly too, the Bellême border region
was now firmly placed under William’s influence, with one of his chief lieutenants Roger of
Montgomery marrying Mabel of Bellême. The siege of Alençon was probably over by
the end of 1051, allowing the duke’s aforementioned journey to England. Unfortunately for William, these successes
also concerned King Henry. Henry had viewed the rise of Geoffrey as the
greater evil, but by August of 1052 a charter places Geoffrey, Count of Anjou, at the king’s
court in Orléans. William was clearly the greater threat given
both his success in the 1051 campaign and then his close bond and promised succession
in England. Given this, it’s hardly surprising Henry
decided to act as a vassal with the vast resources and wealth of England behind them had the
capacity to pose a serious challenge. King Henry’s chance came with the rebellion
of another of William’s relations in 1053. William, Count of Arques, was a legitimate
son of Duke Richard II and though a prominent figure in the duke’s government during his
youth, relations had soured, the count even deserting the ducal army during the siege
of Domfront. For this, William had confiscated the count’s
castle at Arques. In the first half of 1053, Count William struck
back by bribing the garrison of the castle and reoccupying it. Duke William responded quickly, fearing the
entirety of Upper Normandy may declare for the count. The duke succeeded in confining his rival
within the castle, while building his own siege castle hoping to starve him out. Alas, the Count of Arques had the backing
of King Henry himself, who intended to crush the upstart duke through overwhelming force. He planned for two royal armies to invade
the duchy simultaneously, with the first under Enguerrand, Count of Ponthieu, invading eastern
Normandy, with his own advancing on Rouen itself. In addition, Geoffrey Martel would come up
from the south. Luckily for William, the invasions were poorly
coordinated. Enguerrand’s men were surprised and dealt
heavy casualties at St-Aubin-sur-Scie on the October 25th, with their general too being
cut down. Worse for Henry, his man in Arques was forced
into ignominious surrender, once again after promises that he and his men would retain
their hands and feet. Unfortunately for William, his success only
enraged King Henry, who invaded with an even more formidable force in February of 1054. William’s victories had also provoked envy
and concern in other great men, such as William of Aquitaine and Theobald of Blois, as well
Geoffrey Martel himself, all of whom accompanied their king in a two-pronged invasion of Normandy. The Allied force under Henry’s brother Odo
entered into the north-eastern area of the duchy while the king himself marched from
the south-east, the likely objective being for the two to close a large pincer around
Rouen itself. William mirrored the division of the invading
forces by splitting his own, leading one himself by shadowing and harassing the king’s as
he advanced. Contrary to popular perception pitched-battles
were not often sought given the huge stakes involved, usually combatants only resorting
to such a desperate gamble when at their last ebb, as William had done with Henry at Val-ès-Dunes. Instead, the duke harassed the royal army,
picking off those foolish enough to break off for supplies. In this way, William aimed to bleed the enemy
dry and force its retreat. While William dealt with the king, another
Norman force led by Robert the Count of Eu, Hugh of Gournay and Walter Giffard moved to
counter the northern royal army. The invading army under Odo were confident
of a free passage to harry the land and people as they pleased and having entered close to
Aumale, the invaders cut a trail of blood, rapine, and pillage through the land before
reaching the town of Mortemer. In the town, according to Wace, Odo’s men:
“By day... delivered the country up to pillage, and devoted the night to revelry, searching
out the wine and killing the cattle, eating, and drinking their fill.” However, the Normans were not idle, having
carefully concealed their camps and movements in the woods and forests of the country. Informed of Odo’s movements by their own
spies, the barons decided to march through the night to surprise and eliminate the incautious
French. They reached the town just prior to sunrise
and blocked every exit in and before setting fires throughout the place. Panic and confusion spread as swiftly as the
flames, the French scurrying towards the exits only to be met with the enraged faces and
war-cries of the Normans. The fighting at these chokepoints was fierce
and hard-fought, the French likely spurred on to fight to the last given there was no
other means of escape. However, the initial surprise, general unpreparedness
of the invaders and determination of the Normans proved decisive. Odo’s army was ground down to defeat in
a general melee that lasted from daybreak until 3pm. Odo escaped the bite of a Norman blade, instead
being taken captive, as was Guy the Count of Ponthieu, who would languish for two years
in captivity in Bayeux. Walerand, the brother of the recently deceased
Enguerrand of Ponthieu, was not so lucky. William learned quickly of his barons’ success
and took the opportunity to strike a psychological blow to Henry’s army. Sending a man to where the royal army was
encamped, William ordered that he disrupt the French as they slept with the words: “Frenchmen,
Frenchmen, arise! Make ready for your flight, ye sleep too long! Go forth at once to bury your friends, who
lie dead at Mortemer.” Demoralisation soon soured into full-blown
panic. Henry ordered a general withdrawal, heading
back to Paris, while the other great lords retired to their respective domains. William had proved himself a truly skilled
commander, having successfully turned back this latest threat to his authority through
use of Fabien tactics, good intelligence, and the decisive actions of his own lieutenants. King Henry for his part fumed as he conceded
a grudging peace with his over-mighty vassal. In exchange for those men taken at Mortemer,
he pledged non-interference in William’s expansion to the detriment of Geoffrey. For Henry though William’s rise as the preeminent
lord of his kingdom still remained an intolerable reality he would soon move to crush once and
for all. As the year of 1054 ended William,
Duke of Normandy, had proven he was not a man to be crossed, even by kings.
In just a few short years, the illegitimate son of Duke Robert the Magnificent had gone from
virtual fugitive from his own vassals – presiding over an anarchic and broken duchy – to
arguably the supreme warlord of France. Thus far William had survived his first
dangerous years as Duke, triumphing with the help of King Henry I over a coalition of
Norman rebels. And just seven years later, the steely young duke had bested his
erstwhile ally and king, as well. King Henry was compelled to accept a humiliating
peace to ensure the return of French nobles languishing in Norman captivity, and was
further required to pledge non-interference in any conflict between William and his rival
Geoffrey, the expansionist count of Anjou. But, privately, the King in Paris was
resolute to bring down the young Duke… After the battle of Mortemer, William had
scores to settle with those who fought for his destruction. The chief figure of discord –
William of Arques – had been contained and starved into submission in the formidable stronghold of
Arques before being packed off into exile. William awarded the confiscated lands of his
recent detractors to those more worthy of trust, in the process strengthening
his hold over Upper Normandy. However, one leading opponent that couldn’t so
easily be removed was Mauger, the brother of William of Arques and William’s own half-uncle.
Mauger too was a legitimate son of Duke Richard II and likely a victim of association, rather
than having a solid connection with his brother’s rebellion. Yet as the Archbishop
of Rouen, William could not easily dismiss him and required a special church council held
at Lisieux to have him exiled to Guernsey. As it turns out, William was wise to remove
even those merely suspected of opposition. The years of 1055 to 1057 were ones of peace
in the duchy, though William elected to take the fight to Geoffrey, who enjoyed a firm
control over the border county of Maine. Just weeks following his peace agreement
with Henry, William pressed into Maine. He began construction of a new castle
at Ambrières, located around thirteen miles south of Domfront, the site of
an earlier victory over his rival. William clearly aimed to provoke Geoffrey into
acting or else undermine his grip on the area; Geoffrey indeed responded but only
after William’s departure from the area. Besieging the fortress, he promptly withdrew
on receiving news of William’s approach. But this further victory would have its
cost. Though the following years of 1055 to 1057 were ones of rare quiet and peace
both within and without William’s domain, they would turn out to be the proverbial “calm
before the storm.” Geoffrey was not about to take his defeat lying down and found a kindred spirit
in King Henry, who himself had not forgotten his own humbling at Mortemer and desired to
crush the upstart Duke once and for all. The two convened in Tours in January of 1057,
meeting again after this at Angers on the March 1st to hammer out the details of a two-pronged
invasion, this time focusing their wrath on the duchy west of the Seine.
Unfortunately for the allies, the campaign was characterised by a lack
of internal opposition to William that had proved helpful in the previous conflicts. And
the young Duke sensed danger. He likely had spies inform him of this build-up and moved to
cleanse his lands of potential collaborators. In August of 1057, King Henry’s army crossed
the frontier into Normandy, aiming to split it in two by harrying the land up to Dives.
William of Poitiers informs us that the Royal army was not so large, but was still
more numerous than the Duke’s. This time William initially allowed Henry’s
army to penetrate deep into his territory, with the probable aim being to strike Henry on his
return journey, when his men were laden with loot. Unlike in 1054 though, William’s masterful
grasp on his enemies’ movements appeared to have slackened, as the smaller royal force
managed to move with greater secrecy than its larger counterpart three years before.
On balance, the duke also calculated that delayed action was impossible given the
sheer devastation of the land. The king’s army reached the sea, putting the Bessin region
to the sword and even sacking Caen itself. Though much of their movements were unheeded
and unopposed, it’s likely around this stage that scout reports of Henry’s progress
made William realise that a strike was essential to maintain ducal authority. Such
punitive expeditions were as much exercises in undermining a lord’s authority as they were booty
runs, as a lord who couldn’t protect or at least avenge his people was no real lord at all.
William, however, was patient. He had mustered his force at Falaise and waited for the opportune
moment to strike. On receiving news of Henry’s likely crossing of the Dives, the duke raced
to the area to strike the king unawares. Henry had planned to get his entire force
across the river at low tide; however, Wace informs us that the mass of men, horses and
baggage were in an unorganised and long column. Each man rushed to be the first across
the bridge, which delayed the crossing significantly, as the tide rose ominously.
William, meanwhile, had moved from Falaise and gathered further troops as he went. Like other
great men of his age, he was actually reluctant to commit to set-piece battles given the huge risk
of death or capture, and the very real prospect of losing all in a single day. Normally, his main
concern would be to blunt the invaders’ ability to forage, which, if successful, would
sap their will to continue the fight. But the area near Varaville proved too tempting
a chance for victory and valuable ransoms. The future Conqueror perceived the odds
were very much stacked in his favour. Upon contacting the French rear, a fierce melee
broke out. According to Wace, William’s knights striking with their swords and lances were
supplemented by increasing numbers of infantry and some archers, though other sources suggest his
was a small and mobile force, suggesting he mostly fell on Henry’s divided host with knights.
Whatever the exact composition of the attacking army, we do know what happened
next. Wace writes that: “The great press was at the bridge. Everyone
being eager to reach it. But the bridge was old, the boards bent under the throng, the water rose,
and the stream was strong; the weight was heavy, the bridge shook and at length fell,
and all who were upon it perished.” As word quickly spread through the French ranks
that the bridge was gone, panic intensified to pandemonium, many French breaking off to seek for
other crossings, only to be isolated and cut down, having cast away their plunder and arms.
Having already crossed, King Henry could do little but watch the slaughter from his vantage
point on a nearby hill. The defeat was near-total, with all those trapped on the western side
of the river taken, drowned, or killed. To his credit, the king held on to hope of
finding some passage across to aid his rear-guard, even turning to his other great men for advice
to this end. However, by this point even the unaffected portion of Henry’s army had no stomach
for the fight, replying “Sire, you shall not go; you shall return another time and destroy all the
land, taking captive all their richest men.” This refusal proved the final straw for the
humiliated French king and in rage and sadness he withdrew for the final time from Normandy,
leaving his lords’ prediction unfulfilled. William meanwhile was left the
undisputed master of the field. Following Varaville, William only accepted peace
if Henry gave up the disputed border fortress of Tillières. This was conceded and a ceasefire of
sorts was agreed, but not a formal peace given that William – ambitious and ruthless as ever –
further seized the fortress of Thimert, which was squarely within French territory. This proved a
step too far, even for the defeated and humiliated Henry, which meant that peace was not formalised
until after the king’s death in 1060. Not only did King Henry
expire on the 4th of August, but his other great rival Geoffrey Martell
also breathed his last on November 14th. Now the throne of France was occupied by
Henry’s eight-year-old son Phillip and the demise of Geoffrey destabilised the county
of Anjou, which fell into civil war. 1060 had proved a fortuitous year, yet the
County of Maine still loomed to William’s south as an obvious danger to his territory’s
underbelly. As such it had to be subdued. In preparation, William once more demonstrated a
strong political intelligence by recalling some exiled Norman lords, as well as allying
himself with the Count of Blois. Furthermore, according to William of Poitiers,
William held another trump card in the person of Herbert II, Count of Maine, who since 1051
had languished under Geoffrey’s domination. At some point, however, he had escaped to William’s
protection and supposedly made William his heir. As with the more famous similar incident
with Edward the Confessor in England, the duke’s ally died before any solid hold could
be had on Maine itself in March of 1062. The pro-Angevin party within Le Mans
itself rejected William’s claim, electing Walter instead, providing
William his casus belli. William’s subsequent campaign
into Maine was conclusive. The duke harrying the land around Le Mans.
The capital was a symbolic prize indeed, given it had been the crown jewel of
Geoffrey’s domination of the territory. William thus slowly ground-down the city.
As with his earlier sieges on the border, he promised his rule would be good if they
surrendered, but not so much otherwise. The city gave in without hard fighting,
leaving only the intransigent stronghold of Mayenne which the ducal forces
eventually took by storm. Thus by 1063, William, Duke of Normandy was the
undisputed prime power of the French kingdom. Having defeated his Angevin, French and
internal foes, Normandy’s borders were secure and though he would campaign briefly in
Brittainy during 1064, the formidable duke of Normandy was poised to press his claim to
an even greater prize across the sea. But, you can find out more about that
in our Battle of Hastings 1066 video. It is the 14th of October, 1066.
An Anglo-Saxon army, made up of a small number of professional troops and men from the local
shires, gathered on a gentle sloping ridge under the banner of King Harold Godwinson to protect
the kingdom against the Norman invaders. The invading host was well equipped,
highly trained amalgam of Norman knights, archers, and infantry, led by the formidable
Duke William of Normandy, who came to stake his claim to the crown of England
On the fields and slopes of Senlac Hill, near the town of Hastings,
history is about to be made. It is the late 9th century. Having already
pillaged and wrought terror upon numerous settlements across the North Sea, Viking
raiders appeared on the shores of Francia. Despite his best efforts, King Charles the
Simple could not check the growing Norse power and, after the devastating siege of Chartres in
911, he was forced to cede a swathe of northern territory to Rollo, the leader of the Norse
raiding parties, giving him rights for his people to intermarry with the Frankish
locals and make the land their home. This paved the way for the Duchy of Normandy
and, with Duke Rollo as its founder, established a dynasty that would leave
a lasting legacy on Western Europe. Four successors later, Robert I inherited
control of the duchy amidst a civil war that caused much instability .
But despite troubles at home, he intervened in the civil war in Flanders,
meddled in the affairs of the French crown, led a military campaign
against his rebellious vassal, the Duchy of Brittany, and, at best, had
a rocky relationship with the Church. Faced with excommunication, Robert attempted
reconciliation, by restoring church property that he and his vassals seized, and
setting off on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, leaving the duchy in the hands of his
illegitimate 8-year-old son, William. Across the channel, Edward of Wessex, Duke
Robert’s cousin, inherited the throne of England from his half-brother Harthacnut .
Their mother, Queen Emma of Normandy, who was first married to Aethelred the
Unready, and then to Cnut the Great, used her significant political clout to coordinate
the transfer of power between her sons. With Edwards accession, the House of Wessex was
restored to the throne, ending the decades-long rule of the Danish Jelling dynasty in England,
that was established after Cnut the Great’s decisive victory at the battle of Assandun.
From early on in his reign, Edward drew advisors, nobles, and priests from his, and
his mother’s, Normano-French circles to build his own power base.
He further solidified his position by marrying Edith, daughter of the most powerful
earl in England, Godwin of Wessex. But Godwin opposed the rise of Norman
influence in the Anglo-Saxon royal court, and years of political infighting followed,
testing the power of the two men. Edward finally managed to negotiate the backing of
earls of Mercia and Northumbria, to exile Godwin, along with his wife and
sons, in September 1051. Knowing that the powerful earl would return,
the childless king of England used his lack of an heir as political leverage, by naming a
distant relative, Duke William of Normandy, as his successor, further solidifying
his ties with the Norman aristocracy. Just months later , Godwin returned with an army
and quickly gained support of the navy, burghers, and the peasants. This compelled Edward to
restore his earldom, but Godwin refrained from openly opposing the naming of a
Norman aristocrat as heir to the throne, aware that the King was backed by earls of
Northumbria, Mercia, and could possibly count on the support of the duke of Normandy as well.
Having inherited the duchy as an eight-year old illegitimate son of a duke, William and his
supporters struggled to consolidate their control over Normandy. Prominent members of the
aristocracy vied to place themselves in power or at least bend the child duke’s arm to
increase their own influence. It took William a number of years to secure his rule, but
the prolonged fight for his position turned him into a shrewd politician and a tenacious
military leader . By the time he was in his 30s, he exacted either direct or indirect control
over most of the northern coast of France. Back in England, Godwin died suddenly. His
son Harold succeeded him as Earl of Wessex, while his other sons gained control over
several major earldoms, in effect bringing most of England under the control of the Godwins.
Meanwhile , the aging and increasingly ill King Edward withdrew from the affairs of the state,
becoming increasingly dependent on the Godwins. He gradually deteriorated, before falling into a
coma, dying just days later in early January 1066. Unsurprisingly , in the wake of the king’s death,
prominent nobles were not far, ready to joust for position on the vacant throne.
According to some of those present, before drawing his last breath Edward briefly
regained consciousness and pointed a finger at someone in the room. Conveniently, the Godwin
dominated royal court interpreted this to be Harold, chosen to protect the kingdom.
The powerful earl seized the moment, crowning himself King of England, the very next day.
When the news reached Normandy, William was outraged, claiming his right
to the English crown . Almost immediately, he began preparations to take the throne by force,
ordering the building of a large fleet that could transport his army across the Channel, and moving
to rally political support for his invasion. Many nobles of Normandy answered the call,
and more banners came from Flanders, Brittany, and France, after being promised vast wealth,
land, and political positions in England. But, unfortunately for the shaky rule of Harold
Godwinson, William wasn’t the only contender for the throne. Prior to his death, Edward named yet
another successor, Edward the Exile, who had spent the last 40 years in Hungary, and had returned
from banishment in 1057 with a family of his own, but had died shortly afterwards. However, his
son Edgar Ætheling inherited his father’s claim, but lacked any significant support
to take the crown of England. Complicating matters further for Harold, his
brother Tostig fell out of favour for overtaxing the inhabitants of Northumbria, leaving the king
with no choice but to revoke his earldom. Plotting vengeance, Tostig contacted
the King of Norway, Harald Hardrada, persuading him to invade England.
Harald was yet another pretendant, having inherited the claim to the English throne from
Magnus, the former king of Norway and Denmark, who had made an agreement with the
late King Harthacnut of England, that if either died, the other would inherit
their lands. Despite his claim, however, the Norwegian king was under no illusion that
he would have to fight to take the throne… Back across the channel, William was
ready after months of preparation, but unfavourable north winds kept the ships
anchored in Normandy. Regardless, the duke was in no hurry, as intelligence reports revealed
that Harold deployed his forces along the coast, so he decided to bide his time until
he could make an unopposed landing. Indeed, the king of England kept his
troops on high alert throughout the summer, ready to contest the Norman invasion, but supply
shortages and the arrival of the harvest season forced him to disband much of
his army in early September. Just as he returned to London,
more bad news came for Harold. Aided by Tostig, Harald Hardrada invaded
Northumbria and defeated a much smaller force, led by the newly appointed earl Morcar.
Once news reached Harold that a 10,000-strong Viking force had landed in the north, he
rushed to meet them. In barely a few days, he scrambled a resistance force, marching all the
way from London to York in under four days. On September 25th, Godwinson’s force
pulled off a heroic victory against Hardrada’s invasion force at Stamford Bridge.
It was a glorious day for the king of England, but the sweet taste of victory was short felt.
Receiving news that the Normans had landed in the south, celebrations were cut short, as Harold
had to turn back to rescue his throne. Aware that the king of England was busy
in the north, Duke William took his time to set up a strong position, aware that
resupplying his army would be difficult in case of a long campaign. He captured
Pevensey, then advanced on Hastings further up the coast. Both towns were fortified, from
where he could now raid the surrounding area. To the east, a few ships were blown off course, landing at Romney, where the
Normans fought the local fyrd. By early October, Harold reached London after a
gruelling forced march, his troops still exhausted from the battle at Stamford Bridge that took place
just a few days ago. The army encamped near the capital for a week, preparing their equipment
for the upcoming engagement, and attempting to catch up on some much needed rest.
He probably could’ve waited to assemble a larger army, but as soon as his troops were
sufficiently ready, Godwinson eagerly marched to meet the Normans, confident after his
recent stunning victory. He wanted to use the element of surprise, just as he had against
Hardrada’s invasion force in the north. But as the Anglo-Saxon army closed in,
Norman scouts spotted their movement. With William now marching to meet him, Harold
chose the grounds suitable for his army, some 10km north west of Hastings,
where he waited for William... Harold’s army was comprised
almost entirely of infantry. Lacking mobility, he took up a defensive
position on the Senlac Hill, atop of a south sloping plateau, with dense woodland and
swamps protecting his flanks and rear. Professional contingents of
housecarls formed in the center, though their ranks were fairly depleted after
the bloody encounter just two weeks ago. The rest of the troops were the highly motivated,
but poorly trained fyrd peasant militia, mobilised just days prior
from the local shires. In contrast, the invading host was well
equipped, generally highly trained amalgam of Norman knights, archers, and infantry in
the center, with Franco-Flemish and Brittonic infantry and cavalry on the flanks. The duke’s
army was fairly experienced, well organised, and eager to fight.
In the early hours of the morning, William sent forth his archers, planning to
weaken the tight Anglo-Saxon formation. But Harold packed his men in a tight
formation, knowing that sticking together and taking a strong defensive stance
was their best bet at a victory. The arrow volleys shot up hill and were largely
ineffective, directly hitting the shield wall at a flat angle. Most of the arrow fire
was absorbed by the Anglo-Saxon shields Nonetheless, the duke ordered his infantry to
pass through the archers and head up the slope, to test Harold’s line. He counted on his footmen
to provide the main fighting grunt of the battle, but despite their best efforts, they were
unable to open gaps in the solid shield wall. William then led his knights up the slope, hoping their shock charge would punch
through the embattled enemy infantry. But the shield wall held. By midday, the combined
push of heavy infantry and mounted knights failed to break the resolve of the defenders.
Norman cavalry struggled to fight against Harold’s men, who were swift to cut
down the horses with their axes. They were forced to fall back
and regroup for another charge, but the Bretons on the left mistook this
maneuver for a rout and began to flee. Some in the Anglo-Saxon line broke
formation, leaving the solid shield wall to pursue the enemy.
Seeing the rout on his left, William ordered the rest of his troops to
disengage, and withdraw back down the slope. It was reported that the duke had two horses
slain under him during the chaotic fighting, fueling a rumour that he was struck
down, which added to the confusion. To prevent a complete rout, William
removed his helmet and rode through the ranks in full view of his troops,
yelling at the men that he is alive. He then commanded a contingent of Norman knights
to strike the flank of the pursuing fyrd militia and managed to rally some of the
fleeing troops on the left. As the reformed infantry faced
about and the knights closed in, the Anglo-Saxons were forced onto a small hillock,
where they were surrounded and destroyed. Wanting to seize the moment, now that Godwinson’s
line had thinned out after heavy fighting, William launched a general assault,
personally leading the charge. Archers again shot uphill at the shield
wall, but just like the last time, their arrows bounced off the tightly
packed shields of the defenders. The advancing Norman infantry, followed
by the mounted knights, were met with a barrage of spears, axes, and stones, before
locking weapons with the Anglo-Saxons. Unable to force openings in the shield
wall, once again the attack failed, and the Normans retreated back off the ridge. A break in the fighting probably occurred
early in the afternoon, as both armies needed rest and food. With losses mounting for the Normans, it
seemed that Harold’s plan was working. Seeing the futility of the attacks
against the solid Anglo-Saxon line, William revised his strategy, this time
sending only his knights forward. Looking to recreate the accidental
success on the left flank that drew out some of the Anglo-Saxon
infantry earlier in the day, the knights were tasked with charging
Harold’s line at various points and then retreating back, to try and lure the
defenders into giving chase down the slope. The Normans engaged the defenders in a
brief skirmish, before pulling back. However, the feigned retreat failed to draw out
the enemy, but the brief clash further thinned out the ranks of the formidable housecarls in the
shield wall, who were replaced by fyrd units. With archers in support,
the knights charged again, now with more conviction, exchanging blows with
the Anglo-Saxons for much of the afternoon. Then , they broke and
retreated in disarray. Some of the defenders left the shield
wall in pursuit of the fleeing Normans. It is not known whether Harold wanted
to give chase or if it was spontaneous, though it is likely that the king
ordered the troops to hold the line, but failed to control some of the men.
And this time the feigned retreat worked… William’s knights wheeled about
to face the incoming infantry. During the pursuit, the
Anglo-Saxons lost cohesion, and were now caught in the open without
the protection of the shield wall. Spending much of their energy
charging down the slope, the footmen stood no chance against the mounted
Norman knights, and were quickly overrun. Having dismantled part of the shield wall, the
rest of William’s army struggled up the hill, bearing down on Harold’s remaining units.
With a renewed fervour on the invading side, the duke’s infantry and cavalry
struck the Anglo-Saxon line. Unable to fight effectively against the better
armed Normans and French, the Anglo-Saxon units rapidly crumbled, with their forces breaking apart
and being surrounded by the invading parties. It was at this chaotic time that legend has
it Harold was tragically shot in the eye, according to some by friendly fire. He was
subsequently toppled from his horse and brutally hacked to pieces by several Norman knights.
The death of their king was a horrendous morale blow to the Anglo-Saxons Englishmen, who began to
flee the field, chased down by Norman soldiers. And so it was, the historic Battle of Hastings
fell to a decisive victory for the invading Norman forces, and a tragic defeat for the
Anglo-Saxons, who lost their king, a man who would ultimately become immortalised not only on
the Bayeux Tapestry, but in history itself. In the following days and weeks, William,
Duke of Normandy and now the “Conqueror” marched onwards to London to receive
submission and put down all opposition. On Christmas day, 1066, he was crowned the first Norman king of England, bringing
the Anglo-Saxon rule to an end. Cultural changes followed in the wake of the
battle and the Norman conquest of England. French became the language of the king’s court,
gradually blending with the Anglo-Saxon tongue to form modern English. William proved an effective
rule and would go on to become one of England’s greatest kings, building dozens of castles and
fortifications all over the country, consolidating the kingdom against attackers, and ultimately
beginning the Plantagenet monarchical dynasty.
