Having devoted special study to the art of war in the Norman period, including therein the subject of castles, I may have, perhaps, some claim to deal with the latest work on a topic which requires for its treatment special knowledge. When a treatise assumes a definite character, and is likely to be permanently consulted, it calls for closer criticism than a mere ephemeral production, and on this ground I would here discuss some points in Mr. Oman’s ‘History of the Art of War’ (1898).

Mr. Oman issued, so far back as 1885, ‘The Art of War in the Middle Ages,’ so that he enjoys, on this subject, the advantage of prolonged study. In 1894 he contributed to ‘Social England’[68] an article on “Norman Warfare,” to which I shall also refer. I should add that in his first (1885), as in his later work (1898), Mr. Oman received the help of Mr. F. York Powell, now Regius Professor of Modern History at Oxford.

The first point I propose to consider is that of the famous English “formation” before the Norman Conquest. Mr. Oman originally wrote as follows:

This was also the view of the late Professor Freeman, who wrote of the battle of Maldon that—

At the battle of Hastings (“Senlac”) itself he tells us—

They were ranged, he held, “closely together in the thick array of the shield wall.” He had well observed that “the Norman writers were specially struck with the close array of the English,” and had elsewhere spoken of “the close array of the battle-axe men,” and of “the English house-carls with their ... huge battle axes,” accustomed to fight in “the close array of the shield wall.”[69]

To this formation, it is necessary to observe, the term testudo was applied. At the battle of Ashdown, Freeman wrote:

Florence adopts the same word in describing the formation of the rival hosts on that occasion:

So, too, at the battle of Ethandun:

Again, in 1052:

This is an exact description of the host that faced the Normans, fourteen years later, on the hill of Battle. As William of Malmesbury describes it:

“It is a pleasure,” as I wrote, “to find myself here in complete agreement with Mr. Freeman.”[71] Mr. Freeman saw in this passage “the array of the shield wall,”[72] and aptly compared Abbot Æthelred’s description of the English array at the Battle of the Standard: “Scutis scuta junguntur, lateribus latera conseruntur.”[73] With Mr. Oman also I was no less pleased to find myself in perfect agreement. I myself should speak, as he does, of the “tactics of the phalanx of axemen.”[74] It is particularly interesting to read in his latest work (p. 57), that at Zülpich (A.D. 612), according to Fredegarius:

For precisely the same phenomenon is described at the Battle of Hastings. William of Poitiers says of the English:

And Bishop Guy:

There is nothing strange in this parallel between Zülpich and Hastings, for Mr. Oman observes that:

At Poictiers “the Franks fought, as they had done two hundred years before at Casilinum, in one solid mass,”[77] for their tactics were “to advance in a deep column or wedge.”[78] We have seen that the “column” of English axemen similarly fought, according to Mr. Oman, “arranged in a compact mass.”

Where the agreement is so complete, I need not labour the point further. In my ‘Feudal England’ (pp. 354–8), I showed that Mr. Archer’s views on the subject could not stand for a moment against those of Mr. Freeman and Mr. Oman, to which they were directly opposed.

In ‘Social England’—just as Mr. Freeman had written that both the English and the Danes stood as a “wedge of infantry forming a wall with their shields”[79]—Mr. Oman writes of their “wedge or column.” It is only in his later work that he suddenly shifts his ground, and flatly contradicts his own words:

The writer’s “of course” is delightful.

This contradiction of himself, however, is as nothing compared with that to which we are now coming.

In his first work Mr. Oman wrote under Mr. Freeman’s influence. The Normans, he held, at the Battle of Hastings, were confronted by “impregnable palisades.” Nine years later, in his second description of the battle, he substituted for these “impregnable palisades” an “impenetrable shield wall.”

The faithful réchauffé of his former narrative only renders the more significant Mr. Oman’s change of “impregnable palisades” to “impenetrable shield wall.” For what had happened in the meanwhile to account for this change being made? In July, 1892, there had appeared in the ‘Quarterly Review’ my well-known article on “Professor Freeman,” in which I had maintained that the English defence consisted, not of impregnable “palisades,” but only of an impenetrable “shield wall.” On the furious and famous controversy upon this topic which followed, it is quite unnecessary to dwell. Mr. Oman, we have seen himself adopted the view I had advanced, and not, I hasten to add, on this point alone, for with his whole description of the battle, as given in ‘Social England,’ I am in complete agreement. The “shield wall” he mentions twice.[82] Of “palisades,” intrenchments, or breastworks there is not a word.

And yet Mr. Oman, now, is not ashamed to write:

What is the explanation of Mr. Oman’s statement? Simply that he has again changed his view; and having first adopted that of Mr. Freeman, and then abandoned it to adopt my own, he now, in turn, abandons both, and advances a third (or fourth) at variance with both alike! His Norman knights are still “surging”; but they “surge” against an obstacle which has once more changed its character:

What then were these “impregnable breastworks” which now make their appearance in our old familiar passage? They are described on page 154, where we read that “we must not think ... of massive palisading:[84] they were merely

Let us place, side by side, Mr. Oman’s own words in this his latest work:

That they were, to say the least, “not wholly impassable” is evident from the writer’s own description (p. 159) of the Norman knights’ first charge “against the long front of the breastworks, which, in many places, they must have swept down by their mere impetus.” Nay, “before the two armies met hand to hand,” as Mr. Freeman observes,[85] a single horseman—“a minstrel named Taillefer,” as Mr. Oman terms him—“burst right through the breastwork and into the English line” (p. 158).[86] Such, on Mr. Oman’s own showing, were his so-called “impregnable breastworks” (p. 164). A single horseman could ride through them!

We see then that, in this his latest work, he not only adopts yet another view, but cannot adopt it consistently even when he does.

To me there is nothing strange in all this shift and shuffle. It has distinguished each of my opponents on this subject from the first. Not only are they all at variance with one another: they are also at variance with themselves. Alone my own theory remains unchanged throughout. The English faced their foes that day in “the close array of the shield wall.” Other defences they had none.

Mr. Oman has actually advanced four theories in succession:

(1) “The impregnable palisades.”[87]

(2) “The impenetrable shield wall.”[88]

(3) “An abattis of some sort.”[89]

(4) “Wattled hurdles.”[90]

The third of these made its appearance after his description in ‘Social England.’ “I still hold,” Mr. Oman wrote, “to the belief that there was an abattis of some sort in front of Harold’s line.”

But how can he “still” hold to a belief which he has never expressed before or since? For neither the first, second, or fourth of the defences he gives above can by any possibility describe an abattis. The New English Dictionary describes an abattis as

The ‘Encyclopædia Britannica’ gives us a similar description, speaking of this defence as constructed of “felled trees lengthwise ... the stems inwards.”[91] One is driven to suppose that Mr. Oman is quite unable to understand what an abattis really is.

We have now seen that the writer has actually given in succession four entirely different descriptions of the defences of the English front, while he has not the candour to confess that he has ever changed his mind.

At this I am not in the least surprised. As I have observed in ‘Feudal England,’ p. 342:

Even since these words were published, Mr. Oman has produced his fourth explanation, and has produced it in conjunction with Mr. Archer, who had previously enriched this series of explanations by two further ones of his own. In one of them the “fenestres,” which Wace makes the principal ingredient of the palisade, are rendered by Mr. Archer “windows.”[92] In another he describes the English defence as “a structure of interwoven shields and stakes,” “shields set in the ground and supported by a palisade of stakes,” a defence into which “actual shields have been built.”[93] It is only necessary to add that Mr. Oman, who acknowledges here his “indebtedness to Mr. T. A. Archer,”[94] tacitly, but absolutely, rejects both these phantasies, together with Mr. Archer’s great theory that the English axemen were “shieldless” at the battle,[95] and “could not or did not form the shield wall.”[96] All this Mr. Oman rejects, though, of course, he is careful not to say so; just as Mr. Archer, before him, had rejected views of Mr. Freeman, while professing to defend his account of the battle against me.[97]

I have now shown that my opponents are still as unable as ever to agree among themselves on the subject of the alleged English defence, and that as to Mr. Oman, he contradicts himself, not only in successive works, but even in a single chapter. A little clique of Oxford historians, mortified at my crushing exposé of Mr. Freeman’s vaunted accuracy, have endeavoured, without scruple, and with almost unconcealed anger, to silence me at any cost. And they cannot even wait until they have agreed among themselves.

How entirely impotent they are to stay the progress of the truth is shown by the fact that a German writer, Dr. Spatz, who has independently examined the authorities and the ground, goes even farther than myself in rejecting Mr. Freeman’s narrative, and especially the palisade.[98] Sir James Ramsay also, on similarly independent investigation, has been driven to the same conclusion, which his recently published work embodies. Does Mr. Oman refer to Dr. Spatz, whose work is a well-known one? No, he coolly states that “the whole balance of learned opinion” is against me on this matter,[99] although, as we have seen, neither he nor Mr. Archer accepts Mr. Freeman’s narrative,[100] while their own recorded views hopelessly differ (see pp. 43, 49).

Again, Mr. Oman writes:

And yet he made use of my ‘Feudal England,’ in which I set forth prominently (pp. 409–416), as I had previously done in the ‘English Historical Review’ (viii. 677 et seq.; ix. 237), my theory that the passage in Wace “is nothing but a metrical, elaborate, and somewhat confused paraphrase of the words of William of Malmesbury,” and that he was clearly misled by the words “conserta ... testudine,” which he did not understand. Mr. Archer discussed this theory, but did not venture to reject it (Ibid.). Mr. Oman finds it safer to ignore it, and to profess that he cannot imagine where Wace got the idea from, except from oral tradition.

It is the same with the arrangement of the English host. In his latest work, Mr. Oman states, as a matter of fact, that the “house carles” formed the centre, and that

There is no authority whatever for this view in any account of the battle, and it is wholly at variance with Mr. Oman’s own view, as stated in his earlier works.

In perfect agreement with these passages, I hold that “the well-armed house carles,” as Mr. Oman terms them, formed the English front, and were “backed” by the rest of the host.[101] Mr. Oman’s later view involves a tactical absurdity, as I have maintained throughout.[102] But here again Mr. Oman finds it the safest plan to ignore an argument he cannot face.

Let me, however, part from his narrative of the great struggle with an expression of honest satisfaction that, even in his latest work, he treats “the English host” as ranged “in one great solid mass” (p. 154). This is the essential point on which I have insisted throughout.[103] “No feature of the great battle is more absolutely beyond dispute”;[104] and it absolutely cuts the ground from under Mr. Archer’s feet.[105]

I may add that the denseness of the English host is similarly grasped by Sir James Ramsay, who has made an independent examination of the battle, and has set forth his interesting and original conclusions in his recently-published ‘Foundations of England.’ The ground plan of the battle in his work should be carefully compared with that which is found in Mr. Freeman’s History. For the two differ so hopelessly that the wholly conjectural character of Mr. Freeman’s views on the matter will at once be vividly shown. The bold conclusion of Sir James Ramsay that the English host held only the little plateau at the summit of the Battle hill, is at least in harmony with their dense array, and is very possibly correct.[106]

I now turn from battles to castles—those castles which played so prominent a part in Anglo-Norman warfare.

Let us first glance at the moated mound, and then at the rectangular keep. I do not desire, on the moated mound, to commit myself to all Mr. Clark’s views; but practical archæologists, I need scarcely say, are aware that the outer works of these most interesting strongholds were normally of horseshoe or crescent form, the mound being “placed on one side of an appended area.”[107] Mr. Oman, while acknowledging in his book, and in the columns of the ‘Athenæum,’ his indebtedness to Mr. Clark’s “admirable account of the topographical details of English castles,” describes the old English burhs as “stake and foss in concentric rings enclosing water-girt mounds” (p. 111). I pointed out in the ‘Athenæum’[108] that “Mr. Clark, who did more than any one for our knowledge of these burhs, was careful to explain,” in his plans,[109] that their outer defences were not concentric, as Mr. Oman asserts.

Determined never to admit a mistake, Mr. Oman retorted:

Yet, in dealing with the Norman shell keeps on these “old palisaded mounds,” Mr. Oman actually, in his own book, admits, of their “outer defences,” that

This is the feature of these striking works for which I myself contended, and which, on that account, Mr. Oman at once denied.

As to the Towcester burh, I will place side by side my criticism and Mr. Oman’s reply:

Any archæologist comparing the plans will see at once that my statement is correct, and that the plan (compare the section) shows absolutely nothing beyond the actual ditch of the mound. I offered to submit the question to Mr. St. John Hope’s decision,[114] but Mr. Oman would submit it to no one but his friend and coadjutor, Mr. York Powell, who is not known as an authority on these works, and who is hostile to myself because I exposed Mr. Freeman![115]

Having now shown that, in his own words, Mr. Oman “cannot read the simplest military sketch,” I pass to the siege of Rochester Castle, famous for its rectangular keep, in 1264. This was an event that deserves attention in a ‘History of the Art of War,’ for John had breached the keep by mining half a century before, and the stately structure had now to stand an energetic siege at the hands of Simon de Montfort. A striking passage in Rishanger’s Chronicle tells us that, advancing from London,

The barons promptly stormed the ‘outer bailey’ of the castle (April 19),[117] and strove desperately to gain the keep, till, a week later, they fled suddenly at the news of the king’s advance on London.[118] But so vigorous were the siege operations by attack, battery, and mining, that they were on the point of succeeding when they had to raise the siege.[119]

Surely a ‘History of the Art of War’ should mention the above remarkable allusion to Simon’s mastery of siege operations, and to his teaching the English, who were then ignorant of the subject. But all that Mr. Oman tells us is that—

We have seen that, on the contrary, the keep was on the point of being taken. But what are we to say to the words, “Gundulf’s Norman keep”? “It was long the custom,” as Mr. Clark wrote, “to attribute this keep to Gundulf, making it contemporaneous, or nearly so, with the Tower of London”; but, more than thirty years ago, it was shown by Mr. Hartshorne (in the ‘Archæological Journal’) that it was built in later days under William of Corbeuil (1126–1136).[120] No one, in the present state of our knowledge, could suppose that Gundulf was its builder; and it is obvious that a writer who does must have yet everything to learn on Norman military architecture.

I must lastly deal as briefly as possible with the subject of knight service. The view of modern historians has been that this was gradually evolved during the Norman period out of a pre-conquestual obligation to provide one armed man for every five hides held. As against this I have advanced the theory[121] that the whole arrangement was introduced de novo at the Conquest, when the Conqueror assessed the fiefs he granted in terms of the five-knight unit irrespective of hidation. Put in a less technical form my theory is that the Conqueror called on the holder of every considerable fief to furnish a contingent of five knights, or some multiple of five, to the feudal host.[122] And this he did arbitrarily, without reckoning the ‘hides’ that might be contained in the fief. Further, by the argumentum ad absurdum, I showed that if every five hides had to provide a knight, there would be nothing, or less than nothing, left for the tenant-in-chief.[123] It was of this new theory that Professors Pollock and Maitland observe, in their history of English Law (i. 238–9), that they regard it “as having been proved by Mr. Round’s convincing papers.”

Mr. Oman, however, leans to the now exploded theory, and holds that under Norman rule “the old notion that the five hides must provide a fully armed man was remembered;”[124] and that though “some lay tenants-in-chief” got off easily, “the majority were obliged to supply their proper contingent.”[125] He then proceeds:

Now apart from the fact that this “eminent inquirer,” my friend Professor Maitland to wit, gives me full credit for having been first in the field[126]—a fact which Mr. Oman, with my book before him, of course carefully ignores—his words show that he cannot understand the simplest historical theory. Professor Maitland and I have dwelt on the antiquity of this assessment, with which “the compilers of Domesday Book” had no more to do than Mr. Oman himself, and which indeed the compilation of that book has almost utterly obscured.

From the fact of the five-hide unit Mr. Oman argues “that there was little difficulty in apportioning the military service due from the tenants-in-chief who owned them,”[127] though such apportionment, as I have shown, would result in an actual absurdity.[128] Indeed, Mr. Oman himself observes that the tenant-in-chief, to discharge his obligation, “might distribute the bulk of his estate in lots roughly averaging five hides to subtenants, who would discharge the service for him,”[129] although a moment’s consideration will show that this process would absorb not “the bulk,” but the whole of his estate.

But all this is insignificant by the side of Mr. Oman’s double error on the vetus feoffamentum. This begins on p. 359, which is headed “The old enfeoffment,’” and which describes the distribution of fiefs by William among the tenants-in-chief. On the next page he writes of “the knights of ‘the old enfeoffment,’ as William’s arrangement was entitled,” and proceeds to vouch my ‘Feudal England’ as his authority for this statement! On the same page we read of the landholder’s “servitium debitum according to the assessment of the vetus feoffamentum of the Conqueror”; and further learn that Henry II.

We also read that—

Again, on page 364 we read of “the ‘old enfeoffment’ of the eleventh century,” and the phrase (which Mr. Oman quite properly places within quotation marks) occurs in at least three other passages.

It is quite evident that Mr. Oman imagines the vetus feoffamentum to be (1) the original distribution by the Conqueror (2) among the tenants-in-chief. Both ideas are absolutely wrong. For (1) it had nothing to do with “William’s arrangement”—which determined the servitium debitum, a very different matter; and (2) it referred to the sub-enfeoffment of knights by tenants-in-chief. The dividing line between the “old” and the “new” feoffments, was the death of Henry I. in 1135. All fees existing at that date were of the antiquum feoffamentum; all fees created subsequently were of the novum feoffamentum. This essential date is nowhere given by Mr. Oman, who evidently imagined that the latter were those “of more recent establishment” than “the old enfeoffment of William I.”

The frightful confusion into which Mr. Oman has been led by his double blunder is shown by his own selected instance, the carta of Roger de Berkeley in 1166. According to him, “Roger de Berkeley owed (sic) two knights and a half on the old enfeoffment.”[130] Two distinct things are here hopelessly confused.

(1) Roger “owed” a servitium debitum (not of 2½, but) of 7½ knights to the Crown; and his fief paid scutage[131] accordingly in 1168, 1172, and 1190.

(2) Roger “has” two and a half knights enfeoffed under the old feoffment[132] (that is, whose fiefs existed in 1135), the balance of his servitium debitum being, therefore, chargeable on his demesne,[133] as no knights had been enfeoffed since 1135.

It is difficult to understand how the writer can have erred so grievously, for it was fully recognised by Dr. Stubbs and by myself (‘Feudal England,’ pp. 237–239) that 1135 was the dividing point.[134] It may be as well to impress on antiquaries that fees “de antiquo feoffamento” were fees which had been in existence in 1135, at the death of Henry I., just as tenures, in Domesday Book, ‘T.R.E.,’ were those which had existed in 1066, at the death of Edward; for with these two formulas they will frequently meet. It is the “servitium debitum,” not the “antiquum feoffamentum,” which “runs back,” as Mr. Oman expresses it, to the Conquest.

The result of his confusion is that his account of the origins (in England) of knight service is not only gravely erroneous, but curiously topsy-turvy. This is scarcely wonderful when we find on page 365 that he is hopelessly confused about knights and serjeants, not having grasped the elementary distinction between tenure by serjeanty and tenure by knight service. From what I have seen of the author’s account of the battle of Bannockburn, his errors, I imagine, are by no means restricted to the subjects I have here discussed. A curious combination of confidence and unwillingness to admit his mistakes, with a haste or confusion of thought that leads him into grievous error, is responsible, it would seem, for those misconceptions which render untrustworthy, as it stands, his ‘History of the Art of War.’