[III.—AFTER STAMFORD BRIDGE.]
William, Duke of Normandy, landed at Pevensey on the eve of St. Michael, 1066, and cast up fortifications for the protection of his army. Not venturing to penetrate into the country, he awaited the approach of the Saxon army. He had not long to wait. The route from York to Hastings was covered by forced marches, and, with a decimated and wearied army, Harold Godwinson took up his position before the Norman host. His rear was protected by rising ground; his front and flanks by trenches and huge wooden piles. He had especially to fear the Norman cavalry and archers, and took every precaution to defend his troops against them.
On the eve of the battle the Saxons regaled themselves with strong ale, and chanted legendary songs by their bivouac fires; but the Normans occupied themselves in religious services, as befitted hired cut-throats and the “scum of Europe.”
Harold’s banner, embroidered in gold with the figure of a warrior, in battle attitude, was fixed near the “hoar apple tree.” The men of Wessex brought with them their great banner, emblazoned with a golden dragon.
On the 14th October, Harold’s birthday, the battle was fought. The Norman army advanced in three lines: the light infantry and archers under Roger de Montgomerie; the men-at-arms under Martel; and the knights, esquires, and picked men-at-arms under the command of the Duke.
As the Normans advanced they raised the song of Roland, and the minstrel Taillefer claimed first blood, as a sturdy Saxon fell to his sword.
The Norman archers shot their arrows fast and well, point-blank against the Saxons, but the palisades proved a most efficient protection, and from their bows, and slings, and military machines, the Saxons replied, but they were not famous in missile warfare. Then the Norman lines closed on front and flanks, with thrust of lance, and fierce axe-play against the stout wooden piles, and all the while the heavy Saxon twibils rose and fell, crashing through Norman helm and shield, as horse and rider bit the dust, and from the Saxon rear the heavy javelins came whirling through the air. The dead and wounded lay thick on both sides of the palisades, and blood trickled and curdled in the dust. With unflinching courage the conflict was maintained, amid a tumult of discordant sounds: the clash and clatter of steel against steel, the groans of the wounded, and the sudden death-yells of those whose spirits fled as the axes came crashing through helm and brain-pan, or lance was driven sheer through corset and breast: above the heat and roar of the melee pealed the Saxon war-cry: “Christ’s Rood! the Holy Rood!” answered by the sonorous Norman death-cry: “Our lady of help! God be our help!”
The day sped to the heat and languor of the mid October noon, and the Normans toiled before the Saxon front, and belted it with flashing steel.
With painful anxiety Duke William saw his repeated charges spent against the Saxon army, saw his ranks shaken and thinned, without one foot of ground being won. He now bade his archers shoot high in the air, so that their arrows might descend upon the heads of the Saxons. By this the slaughter was dreadfully increased within the Saxon lines, but the warriors were unshaken in their resolution to maintain their ground.