In the woulda-coulda-shoulda / what-if scenarios for 1066, it’s been said and written that Harold did right to hustle back to the south to meet the new threat (he no doubt had good intel), but that a pause to continue to muster in, for example, his capital, would have been prudent, and might have made the difference.
Unreconstructed Marxist and media entertainer James Burke attributed William the Bastard’s victory at Battle / Senlac / Hastings to the use by his forces of the stirrup. Ultimately, you’re spot on — the English army was possibly the best in Europe at that time (until that day, heh), but “a bit little thin on the ground”.
Perhaps my favorite anecdote from that tumultuous month is the parley held between the enemies at Stamford Bridge. The English spokesperson offered Tostig everything north of the Humber. Tostig asked, what do you offer my ally, Harald (Haardrada) of Norway? The Englishman said, six feet of English turf, or however much taller he is than other men. Tostig refused these terms, and the spokesperson turned and rode back to his lines with his small party. King Harald asked Tostig, “who was that man?” Tostig answered, “Harold, King of England.” Harald added that he sat his horse well.
One of those “those were the days” moments.
The English surprised the invading force by reaching the area so quickly. It parallels the northern campaign by Aethelstan over 100 years earlier — Aethelstan arrived in force and quite without warning, attacking the two enemy allies separately and defeating them as it were in detail, piecemeal. Harold II seems to have had very good advance warning of the invasion, mustering, marching, and actually catching the Norse sans armor (it was a hot day) and cutting them off from their boats.
Britain didn’t get to be mostly England by accident. :’)
Thanks for your reply.
Read a book some years ago that noted the dryer-than-usual September weather in southern England in the weeks leading up to the Battle of Hastings. The author felt that the firm, dry ground would have favored the Norman calvary in their ability to gather speed charging uphill toward the Saxon shield wall and allowed sustained attacks over ground that, in a more typically wet fall, would have been churned into a man and horse-immobilizing morass. In such an event, the stirrup would have counted for little. (When thinking of the muddy battlefield alternative, I conger up images of the Kenneth Branagh depiction of Agincourt: rain, mud, clanging steel, and blood.)
IIRC, the battle lasted far longer than normal for those times; a testament to the stubborn courage of the House Carls, depleted as their ranks were, and all the more admirable after the death of King Harold sealed their fate.