The battle had lasted since early morning; and just as the sun went down an arrow pierced Harold's right eye.
The king dropped his battle-axe, and fell forward with a short, sharp cry of pain.
The Death of Harold.
Twenty Norman knights rushed forward, seized the standard, and dealt Harold a mortal blow as he lay beside the dead bodies of his two brothers.
The English, having lost their leader, left the field fighting to the last, and then scattered over the country to carry far and wide the ill-tidings that King Harold was slain and the Norman master of England.
All was quiet when the moon rose over the hill where the Golden Dragon had been hauled down and the sacred banner of the Normans raised in its stead. The ground having been hastily cleared, William's tent was pitched upon the spot where Harold and his brothers had made their last stand, and the duke slept there all night.
The next day was a Sunday, and as the bells tinkled mournfully in the churches, Englishwomen came flocking to the field of battle, with pale faces and eyes red with weeping, to beg leave to look for their husbands and brothers and sons among the slain. Among them was the mother of Harold, offering William its weight in gold for the body of her son.
The conqueror gave her leave to search, and for a long time the noble English lady wandered over the battle-field, seeking vainly among the dead.