The Battle of Hastings

[Wizzie]

Hey folks, just "discovered" the historical battles today (I knew they existed, but hadn't really looked at them yet). But anyway, I was really taken with them. They provide a welcome change from campaig mode and endless sieges! Anyway, I wrote a story about how the Battle of Hasting transpired for me. I might use it as a lead in to a campaign diary for a shot English campaign, if I can summon the energy

By the way, if this is posted in the wrong forum, feel free to move it. I'm not quite sure what's the deal here with AARs.

The Battle of Hastings

I remember that battle more vividly than any other detail of my life. Everything else; my wedding, the birth of my sons, or the death of my wife pale in comparison to the world-shattering events that occurred on that autumn’s day fourteen years ago.

The details that led to this day of days are well known and documented, so I will only briefly bore you with the history, my son.
Edward the Confessor had died without son, leaving many contenders squabling for the throne of England. However, only my lord Duke William had any rightful claim. But the treachorous saxon beast Harold Godwinson stole away the crown, making himself king on the very same day Edward left this world. Rightfully, Duke William drew his armies together and sailed for England, and he was not the only one to do so. The Vikings, under their King Harold Hardrada and Tostig Godwinson, Harold’s own brother, marched on England for the same purpose as William. Harold met them outside York and sent them reeling from his shores at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, but his victory was short lived.

We landed at Pevensey unopposed, and such an army of men you have never seen! Eight thousand proud Norman warriors marched under Williams banner, and met with the Saxon pretender-King at what is now known as Senlac hill. The Saxons had formed a great spearwall across the top of the hill, their backs and flanks guarded by the forests of Anderida – a tangle of vegetation our nimblest horses could not penetrate.
Harold had entrusted his flanks to his two brothers, the Earls Leofwine and Gerth. From their command positions amongs their ranks of Huskarl warriors these two men dominated their respective flanks, while Harold himself kept his beady eyes watchful over the center.

William had deployed his men in three long lines. The archers stood foremost, backed up by the ranks of armoured sergeants. At the rear were the cavalry, the proud Norman Knights who would carry that day. However, despite his vast host, William had a conundrum. Harold commanded a dominant tactical position, and needed not move to win the battle. William, on the other hand, would be attacking uphill, with fewer troops, against a fortified position. The Conquerer’s solution was quite ingenious in it’s own way. The Saxons are a bloody and warlike people, and the success of Harold’s strategem depended on his shield wall remaining in it’s dominating position. If William could eliminate the Saxons leaders on the flanks, or at least stir them into a bloodlust, he could tempt some of the Saxons down the hill where they would be butchered by our superior Norman strength. The weakened spearwall would then be vunerable to crumbling under the weight of an all-out attack.


The Norman Army deploys.

The horns blared and the flags fluttered as the William’s army positioned itself to his orders. The archers ran forward to pepper the saxon flanks with their arrows, while the cavalry moved out to positions where they could flank the long Norman line. The missile barrage went on for hours, yet still the saxons would not move. How terrible was the slaughter of those men, that they cowered under their great shields and prayed a feathered arrow would not pluck the lifeblood from their chest. It was only when it became clear the saxons would not break under the Norman missiles did William decide to send in his knights.

Lucky was I that I was not chosen to take part in that suicide attack. A unit of nearly five hundred knights on each flank trotted up the hill to take the battle to the Earls’ huskarls. The Saxons had braced their spears, and the charge was a massacre. Horses screamed as spears broke deep within their chests, and men were clawed from their horses and ripped limb from limb as the saxons sought revenge for the terrible losses they had suffered under the Norman arrows. Tales of the tortures visited on those poor knights haunted our camp for many nights after, yet William was unpreturbed. His ruse had succeeded, as the surviving knights fled back towards the Norman lines, drawing chunks of the Saxon spearwall after them in pursuit.


The Saxons are drawn down the glacis.

They caught the knights towards the right of the slope and butchered them there. But once their bloodlust had receded their eyes were drawn down the hill, towards two units of armoured sergeants marching towards them. They were stranded, as Harald sealed the gaps in the spearwall with his reserve units, leaving the pursuers to die on the slopes.


Norman Knights charge into the melee on the slope.

The butchery on the right slope lasted for many hours, as William refused to commit more men to the fight than necessary. Mailed knights charged again and again at the saxon’s rear, as our sergeants engaged them from the front. And by God did the saxons fight. But they were ultimately doomed, as they were all caught and butchered in a slow, grinding melee. Now the time was right to blast apart this Saxon army. The spearwall had been severely thinned now that many saxons had been drawn out, and William could scent victory.


The Bloodbath on the glacis.

Ordering his Knights to the left flank, his armoured sergeants marched up the hill to meet the saxon line. And as the spearmen charged Harold’s defences, the most destructive heavy cavalry charge seen since the wars in Heaven hit the saxon right flank. I remember the sheer savage joy as the wind rushed past my helmet, as my lance slammed back into it’s couch under the force of it’s impace upon a saxon huskarl. Never have I felt the fires of war run in my veins as I did that day, as we rode through the saxon flank as we would ride through wheat. They crumbled and ran, screaming and yelling for their lives.


The Storming of Senlac Hill

Harold, seeing the cavalry breakthrough, led his personal retinue of household warriors to meet us in battle. And barely pausing to take stock, King William led us on a wild, headlong charge into Harold’s own men. However, these were not the thegns who would buckle under our charge. These were handpicked warriors, defending their king, and they fought like lions. I remember how my sword arm grew weary as I hacked and slashed at the saxon warriors, how my left arm was broken along with my shield under a tortuous hammer blow. My own horse seemed ready to collapse from exhaustion, but God spared me that day. Fate had decreed Harold must die, and this he did, under the swords of Duke William’s own household Knights. And upon seeing their King’s standard fall, the saxon army let up a great cry of sorrow and dropped their weapons, fleeing for their homes. All but the huskarls. Those warriors who had sworn an oath to their King, and would defend that oath to the death. They rallied upon the hilltop, and bade us come and fight. The Norman army fell on the Huskarls with a savagery rarely seen, and never have men died in a more noble and brave fashion. But die they did, and with their final sword swipes, England was surrendered to William.


The Saxons Route as the King's Standard Falls

P.S. Apologies for poor quality screenshots - my computer is not the powerhouse able to produce some of the amazing graphics you'll see on other screenshot about the forums