On Saturday, October 14, 1066, the rays of the early morning
sun revealed a dramatic scene near England’s southern coast.
Approximately eight thousand Englishmen, called Saxons, had
gathered in an open i eld about 7 miles (11 km) northwest of
the coastal town of Hastings. h e mood among these men was
solemn, and many of them wore grim looks. All were carrying
weapons, and those who could af ord it were decked out in chain
mail and other kinds of armor.
h ese warriors had carefully lined up across the i eld, standing
in ranks, one behind another, in preparation for a bloody
battle. Each was well aware that he might be among those unfortunate
individuals who would be lying dead a few hours later,
and fear was in the air. Hoping for reassurance, some of the
soldiers looked toward their leader. A tall, handsome man in
his mid-forties—and known for his formidable i ghting skills—
stood, his expression determined, beside the national banners
atop a low hill in the center of the i eld. He was King Harold II.
Less than nine months before, he had ascended the throne upon
the death of the former Saxon ruler, Edward the Confessor.
Gazing out across the meadows, Harold could see the
crowded ranks of the opposing army arrayed directly in front
of his own forces. A large proportion of the enemy i ghters were
cavalry (mounted warriors). It was clear that they would soon
push forward and attack the lines of his infantry (foot soldiers),
who he hoped would be able to hold their ground and keep the
invaders from winning the day.
Harold and his troops viewed their opponents as invaders for good
reason. h ese adversaries had recently crossed the English Channel with
the intention of conquering Saxon England. h eir leader, William, Duke
of Normandy (in northwest France), believed that he, not Harold, was
the rightful heir to Edward’s throne, and he had come to claim it.
After gathering a Norman army at least as large as Harold’s, William
had loaded his forces onto small ships, crossed the channel, and landed
at Pevensey, on the English coast several miles southwest of Hastings. His
spies had told him that Harold’s army was approaching the area, so the
duke had hastily marched his own forces northeastward. He had no way
of knowing that the ensuing encounter would turn out to be one of the
largest and most fateful battles of Europe’s medieval era.
World History
