The fleet was reached by the war-worn Norwegians, but afforded them no refuge, for the Saxons pressed on to the attack, and captured ship after ship, and in some instances appear to have fired the vessels, failing to carry them by the sword, for the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” says:—“And the English from behind hotly smote them, until they came, some to their ships, some were drowned, and some also burned; and thus in divers ways they perished, so that there were few left. The King then gave his protection to Olave, son of the King of the Norwegians, and to their bishop and to the Earl of Orkney, and to all those who were left in the ships: and they then went up to our King, and swore oaths that they ever would observe peace and friendship toward this land, and the King let them go home with twenty-four ships.”

On the low plain of Riccall the dead lay thickly, and to this day the villagers point out to the curious visitor the huge earthen mounds that cover the bones of the Norwegians.

The Harold Hardrada Saga gives us a last glimpse of the remnant of the forlorn fleet, as it sailed from the ancient port of Ravenser:—“Olafr, son of Harold Sigurdson, led the fleet from England, setting sail at Hrafnseyri, and in the autumn came to Orkney. Of whom Stein Herdisson makes mention:

‘The King the swift ships with the flood
Set out, with the autumn approaching,
And sailed from the port, called
Hrafnseyri (the raven tongue of land).
The boats passed over the broad track
Of the long ships; the sea raging,
The roaring tide was furious around the ships’ sides.’”

The memory of the Norwegian giant who held the bridge was perpetuated by the people of Stamford, for Drake tells us that they “have a custom, at an annual feast, to make pies in the form of a swill, or swine tub, which tradition says was made use of by the man who struck the Norwegian on the bridge, instead of a boat.”

Harold is accused of having disgusted his army by refusing them a share of the spoil; but this is difficult to reconcile with the known generous character of the man; and no prince could have been more nobly seconded by his troops than was Harold on the field of Senlac.

Brief indeed was the victor’s respite from the dangers of the field; for, as he was presiding at a great feast of his chieftains and officers at York, a messenger entered the hall in haste, and delivered his ominous message that William of Normandy had disembarked his army at Pevensey, unopposed, on the 29th of September.

The march south was at once commenced; and on the 14th of October a murderous battle was fought at Senlac, raging with unwavering fury from sunrise to sunset. King Harold, his brothers Leofwin and Gurth, fell in the front of battle, with the flower of the army; and from that day the Norman rule commenced in England.