The distinctive peculiarity of the English tactics, we learn from Mr Freeman at the outset, is found in an entirely novel device introduced on this occasion by Harold. Instead of merely forming his troops in the immemorial array known as the shield-wall, he turned 'the battle as far as possible into the likeness of a siege',[5] by building around them a 'palisade' of solid timber. How large a part this 'palisade' plays in Mr Freeman's story may be gathered from the fact that it is mentioned at least a score of times in his account of the great battle. This 'fortress of timber', with its 'wooden walls', had 'a triple gate of entrance', and was composed of 'firm barricades of ash and other timber, wattled in so close together that not a crevice could be seen'. It would be easier for me to deal with this 'palisade' if one could form a clear idea of what it represented to Mr Freeman's mind. Judging from the passages quoted above, and from his praising Henry of Huntingdon for his 'admirable comparison of Harold's camp to a castle';[6] I was led to believe that he imagined precisely such a timber wall as crowned in those days a castle mound. Such a defence is well shown in the Bayeux Tapestry, crowning the castle mound which William threw up at Hastings. Now, this very parallel is suggested by Mr Freeman himself. Describing Harold's position as 'not without reason called a fortress' [where?] he suggested that 'its defences might be nearly equal to those of William's own camp at Hastings' (p. 447). Following up this parallel, we find Mr Freeman writing of this latter: A portion of English ground was already entrenched and _palisaded_, and changed into a Norman fortress (p. 418).... He saw the carpenters come out with their axes; he saw the fosse dug, and the _palisade_ thrown up (p. 419). They had already built a fort and had fenced it in with a _palisade_ (p. 420). Without binding Mr Freeman down to a defence precisely of this character--and, indeed, in this as in other matters, he may not even himself have formed a clear idea of what he meant--it gives us, I think we may fairly say, a general idea of his 'palisade'. It was certainly no mere row of stakes,[7] no heap of cottage window frames,[8] no fantastic array of shields tied to sticks,[9] no '_abattis_ of some sort'[10] that Mr Freeman had in view, whatever his champions may pretend. As for the defenders of the 'palisade', they cannot even agree among themselves as to what it really was. Mr Archer produces a new explanation, only to throw it over almost as soon as it is produced.[11] One seeks to know for certain what one is expected to deal with; but, so far as it is possible to learn, nobody can tell one. There is only a succession of dissolving views, and one is left to deal with a nebulous hypothesis.[12]