The Battle of Hastings, fought on 14 October 1066, stands as one of the most transformative events in English history. It ended Anglo-Saxon rule and installed a Norman dynasty that reshaped the kingdom’s language, landholding structures, and governance. Yet the battle itself was not merely a military engagement; it became a cultural touchstone, its meaning constructed and contested through the art and literature of the medieval period. Far from being simple records of fact, these works shaped how the conquest was remembered, justified, and romanticised for centuries. By examining the visual and textual depictions, we see not only what happened but how the victors wrote and wove their version of history into the fabric of European memory.

Medieval Art Depictions of the Battle

Visual representations of the Battle of Hastings survive in several forms, the most celebrated being the Bayeux Tapestry. This remarkable embroidery, over 70 metres long, recounts the events from the death of Edward the Confessor to the Norman victory at Hastings. Despite its name, it is not a woven tapestry but an embroidered linen panel, executed in woollen yarns of eight colours. It was likely commissioned in the 1070s or 1080s by Bishop Odo of Bayeux, William the Conqueror’s half‑brother, and created by English embroiderers, almost certainly in Kent.

The Bayeux Tapestry: Narrative and Propaganda

The Tapestry’s narrative structure is unique. It combines a continuous pictorial strip with tituli – short Latin inscriptions that explain the scenes. The story unfolds in a sequence that emphasises Norman justification: Harold Godwinson swears an oath to William in Brittany, then breaks it by accepting the English crown, thereby bringing divine wrath upon himself. The battle itself occupies nearly half the length, with vivid depictions of cavalry charges, archers, and the infamous death of King Harold – possibly struck in the eye by an arrow, though the exact moment is ambiguously framed.

Artistically, the Tapestry draws on Roman triumphal art, Anglo-Saxon manuscript illumination, and Carolingian narrative cycles. But its purpose was not neutral documentation. Every scene reinforces the Norman claim: William is a pious, wise leader; Harold is a perjured usurper. The comet of 1066 (Halley’s Comet) is shown in the upper border, interpreted as a portent of doom for the English. The Tapestry also includes scenes of feasting, shipbuilding, and the construction of fortifications, demonstrating Norman logistical superiority. For modern scholars, the Bayeux Tapestry remains an unparalleled primary source, albeit one filtered through the lens of victory.

Other Visual Sources: Manuscripts and Sculpture

Beyond the Tapestry, medieval art from the 12th to 15th centuries revisited the battle. Illuminated manuscripts of chronicles – such as the 12th-century Historia Anglorum or the early 14th-century Abbreviatio Chronicorum – include marginal illustrations of knights fighting, sometimes with captions referencing Hastings. These images tend to simplify the battle into a generic mêlée, but they kept the event alive in monastic libraries and courtly circles. Church architecture also contributed: the Norman cathedrals at Durham, Ely, and Lincoln incorporated carved capitals and friezes that alluded to the conquest, often pairing secular military imagery with biblical scenes to associate William’s victory with God’s will. At the church of Saint‑Étienne in Caen, founded by William, sculpted corbels may reference the battle. Such works served both liturgical and political functions, embedding the Norman victory into the sacred landscape.

Literary Accounts of the Battle

Alongside visual art, a rich literary tradition developed around Hastings. The earliest accounts were written within a generation of the battle, mostly by Norman clerics loyal to the new dynasty. Their works combined eyewitness testimony (or purported eyewitness), classical rhetorical conventions, and moral frameworks that legitimised the conquest.

William of Poitiers and the Norman Perspective

The most detailed contemporary narrative is the Gesta Guillelmi (Deeds of William) by William of Poitiers, a Norman archdeacon and former knight. Written around 1073–1075, it praises William as a just and divinely favoured ruler. The description of the battle is dramatic: William’s speech before the fight, the retreat feigned to break the English shield‑wall, and Harold’s death are presented as providential. William of Poitiers used classical models – Virgil, Caesar, and Livy – to elevate the Norman duke into a hero of epic proportions. The work also vilifies Harold, accusing him of perjury and sacrilege. Though written for a courtly audience, the Gesta Guillelmi established the narrative template that later chronicles would follow.

Orderic Vitalis and the Anglo‑Norman Synthesis

Orderic Vitalis, writing his Historia Ecclesiastica in the early 12th century, offers a more complex picture. He was born in England to a Norman father and English mother, and his writing reflects a dual perspective. While he repeats the Norman justification, he also records stories of English suffering – the devastation of the Harrying of the North, the dispossession of English thegns, and the sorrow of the conquered. His account of Hastings includes details not found elsewhere, such as the role of Norman knights like Robert de Beaumont. Orderic’s blend of monastic piety, moral reflection, and ethnic identity makes his work a vital counterpoint to pure Norman propaganda.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and English Voices

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a set of annals maintained in English monasteries, provides a brief but powerful native perspective. The entry for 1066 in the ‘D’ version (associated with Worcester and later Evesham) is stark: “King Harold came against him [William] unexpectedly … and there was great slaughter on both sides. There King Harold fell, and Earl Leofwine his brother, and Earl Gyrth his brother, and many good men.” The language is terse, understated, and deeply mournful. Unlike Norman accounts, there is no attempt to justify William’s claim; the Chronicle simply records the disaster. Later entries – notably the ‘E’ version – omit the battle entirely for a time, perhaps reflecting English reluctance to dwell on defeat. The Chronicle reminds us that the conquered also wrote history, even if their voices were often muted or erased in official records.

Later Medieval Chronicles and Romances

By the 12th and 13th centuries, writers such as Henry of Huntingdon and William of Malmesbury synthesised earlier sources. Henry of Huntingdon’s Historia Anglorum (c. 1130) includes a colourful account of the battle, introducing the line that Harold was killed by “a random arrow.” He also moralises: the English were punished for their sins, especially their neglect of the church. William of Malmesbury’s Gesta Regum Anglorum (c. 1125) offers a more balanced view, praising William’s learning while condemning his cruelty. In the 14th century, the battle appeared in vernacular romances and chronicles such as the Brut, which translated Latin histories into Anglo‑Norman and Middle English for a wider audience. These later works often romanticised the combat, turning Harold and William into chivalric archetypes.

The Interplay of Art and Literature

Medieval art and literature did not exist in separate spheres. The Bayeux Tapestry’s visual narrative was shaped by textual sources available to its designers – possibly a lost written account by a cleric at Odo’s court. Conversely, chroniclers like Orderic Vitalis may have known the Tapestry or its iconographic tradition; his description of the Norman cavalry charge echoes the Tapestry’s composition. Together, these media reinforced a coherent message: the Norman victory was both inevitable and righteous. The image of King Harold’s broken oath, for instance, appears in both the Tapestry’s border inscriptions and in William of Poitiers’ text, creating a self‑reinforcing propaganda loop that persuaded a Christian audience steeped in the idea of divine justice.

Yet the interplay was not always harmonious. Some later manuscript illuminators, working in English monastic scriptoria, subtly altered the iconography. In the 12th‑century Vita Ædwardi Regis, Harold is shown crowned but with a troubled expression, while William appears as a crowned king, but the book is dedicated to English saints. Such tensions suggest that the visual and verbal record of Hastings remained a contested space, where artists and scribes could express lingering English loyalty even under Norman patronage.

The Impact on Later Historical Consciousness

The medieval depictions of Hastings did more than serve contemporary politics; they shaped the way later generations understood the conquest. During the 16th‑century Tudor period, antiquarians rediscovered the Bayeux Tapestry and claimed it as evidence of English history – even though it was made in England for Norman patrons. The chronicles of William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon were printed and widely read, influencing Shakespeare’s King John and other early modern works. The battle became a symbol of both nation‑forming and foreign tyranny, a dual meaning that persisted through the 19th‑century revival of medievalism.

Scholarly Reassessment in the 20th and 21st Centuries

Modern historians have subjected the medieval sources to rigorous critique. They note that the Bayeux Tapestry is not a straightforward source but a political document designed to legitimise the Norman regime. The literary accounts, too, are now read with an awareness of their rhetorical strategies. Scholarship has also highlighted the absence of English women’s voices and the near‑invisibility of common soldiers. Interdisciplinary studies – combining art history, literary analysis, and archaeology – have shown how the battle was re‑imagined in different medieval contexts. For example, the discovery by David Bernstein that the Tapestry’s scenes echo Roman triumphal columns has deepened understanding of how Normans used classical models. The ongoing work of the TextExchange project has digitised and analysed the inscriptions, revealing previously unnoticed paleographic details.

The Bayeux Tapestry Today

The Tapestry remains the most famous single object of medieval English history. Housed in the Centre Guillaume le Conquérant in Bayeux, France, it draws hundreds of thousands of visitors annually. Its recent display in the UK for the first time in 2022–2023 as a temporary loan provoked new discussions about national heritage and the politics of ownership. The Tapestry’s enduring power lies in its visual storytelling, which transcends language barriers. It has inspired novels, films, and even video games – each new adaptation a fresh interpretation of the same medieval raw material.

Conclusion: A Battle Remembered Through Art and Word

The Battle of Hastings was not only fought with swords and shields on Senlac Hill; it was also fought on parchment, linen, and stone. Medieval artists and writers created a version of the battle that served the political and spiritual needs of their time. Through the Bayeux Tapestry, the chronicles of William of Poitiers and Orderic Vitalis, and the quiet elegy of the Anglo‑Saxon Chronicle, we see a struggle not just for a crown but for the meaning of history itself. Later generations – including our own – continue to interpret these sources, recognising that every depiction is a choice, every narrative a perspective. To study the Battle of Hastings in its medieval context is to understand how art and literature construct the past, and how the past, in turn, shapes identity.