even attempted, had not William been able to paint in glowing colours a seductive picture of booty to be taken, and place to be won. The whole adventure was essentially piratical.
The preparations for the expedition are graphically portrayed in the Bayeux Tapestry.[1] "Workmen," says Wace, "were employed in all the ports, cutting of planks, framing of ships and boats, stretching of sails, and rearing of masts." Many of the craft were built, no doubt, with a view to the particular service, and no other; just as, more than seven centuries later, Napoleon's invasion flotilla was brought into being. For the most part, they were clearly not of the type of the regular sea-going fighting ships of the day, but much smaller, and of lighter scantling. A few only appear to have been of stouter character.
It is quite impossible to say how many ships were assembled. Wace gives the number at 696; Simeon of Durham, at 900; the 'Chronique de Normandie,' at 907 "great ships"; William of Jumièges, at "three thousand which carried sails"; and a contemporary manuscript, preserved in the Bodleian,[2] at 1000. William of Poitiers notes that while Agamemnon needed but 1000 vessels to conquer Troy, William required more to win the crown of England. Thierry's conclusions are that the fleet consisted of 400 capital ships, and more than a 1000 transports, carrying 60,000 troops.
This estimate gives a mean of about forty-two men per ship; but nothing like that number can be distinguished on board any of the craft figured in the Bayeux Tapestry. Even in William's flagship, the Mora, only ten are visible, although thirteen shields are to be seen ranged along the starboard gunwale, and although these and the corresponding shields on the port side may lead us to suppose that at least twenty-six fighting men were present.
How far the Tapestry should be trusted as a real, and not merely a conventional representation of the events of the expedition, is a problem excessively difficult to solve; but if it be recollected that the work of illustration was done by women; that, in all probability, none of these women were with the fleet; and that in no age have women been the most accurate and trustworthy delineators of episodes in naval history, we may perhaps safely decline to consider this interesting and remarkable piece of needlework as a very serious historical document. Yet, as regards some details, it is corroborated by outside evidence. The Bodleian manuscript already
