第 47 页

incursions that lasted for three generations.

William of Normandy, on the contrary, was absolutely merciless in warfare.

He was not cruel for the sake of cruelty, but where he deemed that the

policy demanded it, he was ruthless, and spared neither age nor sex. He was

lavish to the church, but it was rather because he needed and obtained its

aid than from any feeling of real piety.

In point of ability, both civil and military, the Duke of Normandy and

Harold of England were perhaps about equal; in point of nobility of

character there was no comparison between them. We may be sure that the

night before the battle Harold prayed as earnestly as he had prayed at

Waltham for the aid of Heaven.

Wulf and Beorn lay down among the thanes, after Harold, sitting with them

round a fire, had explained his plans for the battle. So calmly and

confidently did he speak, and so strong was their position, that even those

who had, like Wulf, doubted the wisdom of an advance until the whole force

of England had assembled, now felt something like an assurance of victory,

and all lay down to sleep with the belief that the victory at Stamford

Bridge would be repeated.

On waking, Wulf visited his men. They were already astir, and he was

astounded at seeing among them the towering figure of Osgod.

"Why, what means this, Osgod?" he exclaimed. "Did I not order you to rest

quietly at York?"

"That did you, my lord," Osgod said, "and no man obeys your orders more

readily than I, and anything that you bid me do I am willing to do if

possible; but in this it was not possible, for I could not remain at York,

either in rest or quiet. I should have had fever in my blood, and would by

this time have been lying as deep in the earth as Harold of Norway himself.

Therefore, in order to get the rest and quiet you had ordered, it was

necessary for me to come south. As you had left me well supplied with

money, I was able to do so in comfort, and though I could well enough walk

I have had myself carried in a litter by easy stages. I reached London on

Wednesday night, having been a fortnight on the way, and I arrived here an

hour since. Each day I walked a little, so as to keep my health and

exercise my limbs, and so well have I succeeded that my wound has well-nigh

healed; and although I doubt whether I shall be able to use a heavy axe, I

trust I shall be able to strike hard enough with the right hand to split a

few Norman helms."

"But the exertion may set your wounds bleeding afresh, Osgod," Wulf said,

unable to repress a smile at Osgod's argument.

"Methinks there is no fear of that. The most nights I have slept at

monasteries, and have inquired from the monks, whom I told that I must

needs stand by your side to-day, whether I should be fit. They said at

first that there would be some risk in the matter, but that if I continued

to take rest and quiet as I was doing, and the wound continued to heal

favourably, it was possible, if I abstained from actual fighting, I might

do so; but of late they have spoken more confidently. I told the monk who

seared my arm to do it heartily, for a little pain more or less was of

small account, so that he made a good job of it. And so, what with the rest

and quiet and my mind being at ease, it went on so well that a monk who

examined it at Westminster on Wednesday evening told me that save for the

healing of the skin the wound was pretty nigh cured, and that he thought

there was no chance whatever of its breaking out afresh. He bandaged it

tightly to prevent any rush of blood into the veins, and though when I

drove an axe just now into that stump yonder, I felt that I had not got

back my strength fully, I expect when I warm to the work I shall strike as

strongly as most."

"Well, at any rate you must take care of yourself, Osgod. You can aid me

in keeping our men steady, but I charge you not to fight yourself unless

you see the line waver. Then you can, of course, throw yourself into the

fray."

"I will keep myself back for that, master; but I am sure we shall all have

to do our best before sunset, and as all will be risking their lives there

is no reason why I should not do so as well as the rest."

The troops made a hearty breakfast from the food they carried, and quenched

their thirst at the little stream that ran down by the side of the slope,

then they were told off to the ground they were to occupy.

At nine in the morning the vanguard of the Norman army appeared over the

brow of a rise, and the English at once took up their positions. In the

centre were the housecarls of the royal house and those of the thanes,

together with the men of Kent, whose right it was ever to be in the front

of a battle, and the London citizens under their sheriff. All these were

armed and attired like the housecarls. In the centre of this array flew the

royal standard, and around it were the three royal brothers, Aelfwig their

uncle, with his monk's cowl over his helmet, and their nephew, Hakon, the

son of Sweyn. The housecarls were in a triple line. To the left and right

of them were the levies, as brave as their more heavily armed comrades, but

altogether without discipline, and armed in the most primitive manner. A

few only carried swords or axes, the majority had spears or javelins. Many

had only forks or sharp stakes, while some carried stone hammers and axes,

such as were used by their primitive ancestors.

As the Norman army wound down from the opposite hill and formed up in the

order of battle, Harold rode along in front of his line exhorting all to

stand firm.

"They were there," he said, "to defend their country, and to defend their

country they had but to hold the hill. Were they steadfast and firm they

could assuredly resist the attack of this host who came to capture and

plunder England."

The order in which the Normans prepared for battle was similar to that of

the English. Both commanders had been well informed by spies of the

strength and position of their opponents, and the duke placed his tried

Norman troops in the centre to match themselves against the English

housecarls. His Breton contingent was on his left, while on the right were

the French, the Flemings, and the other foreign adventurers who had come to

fight under his banner. In the front line were the archers and slingers,

who were to open the battle and shake the line of the defenders. Behind

these came the infantry, who were to hew down the palisades and clear a way

for the cavalry charge full into the centre of the English host.

A Norman trumpet gave the signal for the commencement of the battle, and

the archers along the whole line poured a storm of arrows into the English.

It was unanswered, for there were few bowmen among the defenders of the

hill, and the distance was too great for the javelin-men to hurl their

missiles. After the archers had shot several volleys of arrows they fell

back, and the infantry advanced against the hill; but before they did so

Taillifer, a Norman minstrel, dashed forward on horseback, and spurring up

the ascent, tossing his sword in the air and catching it as it fell, rode

up to the English line. One man he pierced with a lance, another he cut

down with his sword, and then fell dead under the blow of a heavy axe.

This mad exploit had scarce terminated when the Norman infantry advanced up

the hill. They were greeted with a shower of stones and javelins, which

slew many, but with unbroken front they pressed upwards until they reached

the palisade. Here a desperate struggle began. The Norman sword and spear

were met by the axes of the housecarls, and the clubs, spears, and forks of

the levies. In vain Norman, Breton, Frenchmen, and Fleming strove to break

the English line. The high position of the defenders gave them a great

advantage over their assailants, among whose crowded ranks the javelin-men

did great execution, while the Normans could receive little aid from their

archers. Both sides fought with obstinate valour. The Norman battle-cry was

"God help us!" the English "God Almighty and the Holy Cross!" The latter

invocation being to the relic at Waltham, which was the king's special

object of devotion.

With jeering cries too they greeted the efforts of their assailants to

cross the palisade and break their line. At last the Norman infantry fell

back broken and baffled, having suffered terrible loss, and now the knights

and horsemen, who formed the backbone of William's army, rode up the hill.

The duke himself, as well as his brother Odo, Bishop of Bayeau, who fought

beside him, had laid aside their Norman swords, and were armed with heavy

maces, weapons as formidable as the English axe. But the valour of the

horsemen, the strength of their armour, the length of their lances, and the

weight of their horses, availed no more against the shield-wall of the

housecarls than the infantry had done. The superior height and strength of

the English, and the sweep of their terrible battle-axes, counterbalanced

the advantage the horses afforded to the Normans, and the hitherto

irresistible chivalry of Normandy and France were, for the first time,

dashed backwards by trained infantry.

In front of the English line the ground was thickly covered with fallen men

and horses. There were but few wounded among them, for where the English

axe fell, whether on horse or rider, it did its work thoroughly. But the

English, too, had suffered. The action of swinging the axe with both arms

above the head left the neck and upper part of the body exposed, and many

had fallen pierced through and through by the Norman spears. A great shout

of triumph rose from the English line as the Norman horsemen, unable to do

more, fell sullenly back down the hill. As in the centre the king with his

thanes and housecarls had repelled the attack of the Normans, so on the

flanks the English levies had held their ground against the Bretons and

French; but, carried away by their exultation, the levies on the right,

forgetful of Harold's express orders that no man was to stir from his place

until he himself gave the signal for pursuit, broke their line, and rushing

down the hill fell on the retreating Bretons.

Unable to withstand the onslaught, and already disheartened by their

failure, the Bretons fled in wild alarm, and rushing towards the centre for

protection threw the Normans also into confusion. The panic spread rapidly,

the host wavered, and had already begun to fly, when William, throwing off

his helmet, rode among them, and exhorting some and striking others with a

lance he had caught up, at last restored order, and the Breton infantry

rallied and fell upon their pursuers, killing many and driving the rest

back up the hill.

Again the Norman infantry and cavalry together advanced up the hill, and

the terrible struggle recommenced. William and his brother the bishop

performed prodigies of valour, but not less valiantly fought Harold of

England and his brothers. The palisade was by this time destroyed in many

places, and desperate hand-to-hand contests now took place. Cutting his way

through meaner foes the duke strove to reach the royal standard and

encounter Harold himself. He was nearing his goal, when Gurth sprang

forward, eager above all things to protect Harold from harm. He hurled a

javelin at William, but the dart struck the Norman's horse only, and it

fell beneath him. William leapt to his feet, and springing upon Gurth smote

with his heavy mace full on his helmet, and the noble Earl of East Anglia

fell dead at his feet. Almost at the same moment his brother Leofwin,

fighting sword in hand, was slain. But the fall of the two royal brothers

in no way changed the fate of the battle. The men of Kent and Essex,

furious at the fall of their beloved earls, fought even more fiercely than

before to avenge their deaths.

William had remounted, but his second horse was also slain. Eustace of

Boulogne offered him his horse, and himself mounting that of one of his

followers they fell together upon the English line, but all the valour of

the duke and his chivalry failed to break it. On the French left the

Bretons had, indeed, succeeded in completely destroying the palisade, but

the levies stood firm, and no impression was made upon their solid line.

The attack had failed, and even William saw that it was hopeless any more

to hurl his troops against the shield-wall, but the manner in which the

English irregulars had been induced to break their array led him to try by

a feigned retreat to induce them to repeat their error. While the fight yet

raged around him he sent orders to the Bretons to turn and flee, and then

if the defenders pursued them to turn upon them while he ordered a portion

of his Norman force to make straight for the gap as soon as the English

left their posts.

The stratagem was successful. Again with exulting shouts the levies poured

out in pursuit of the Bretons. These fled for some distance, and then

suddenly turning fell on their pursuers. Ill-armed and undisciplined as the

levies were, and unable to withstand the attack of such overwhelming

numbers, they bore themselves gallantly. One party took possession of a

small outlying hill, and with showers of darts and stones they killed or

drove off all who attacked them. The greater part, however, made their way

to broken ground to the west of the hill, and made a stand on the steep

bank of a small ravine. The French horsemen charging down upon them,

unaware of the existence of the ravine, fell into it, and were slaughtered

in such numbers by the knives and spears of the English that the ravine was

well-nigh filled up with their dead bodies.

But gallantly as the levies had retrieved their error, it was a fatal one.

As soon as they had left their line, the Normans told off for the duty

pressed into the gap, and were followed by the whole of their main body,

and thus the English lost the advantage of position, and the contending

hosts faced each other on the hill, the ground now occupied by the Normans

being somewhat higher than that on which the housecarls stood. It was now