"This is a bad sign," cried others.
"Lords, what is it you say?" exclaimed William, rising with a spring. "Why are you amazed? See you not that I have taken seizin of this land with my hands, and all that it contains is our own?"
It is said that after landing, William ordered the ships forming his fleet to be burned, that the Normans, seeing all hope of retreat cut off, might be induced to fight the more desperately; and then he marched towards Hastings.
On a broad plain, between Pevensey and Hastings, the Normans pitched their camp. Having erected two wooden castles, brought with them to serve as receptacles for provisions during the campaign, or as places of refuge in case of disaster, they sent out bodies of troops to overrun the neighbourhood. The inhabitants, terrified at the approach of foes whom they were utterly unprepared to meet, fled from their dwellings to the churches; and the country seemed to lie so open, that many of the invaders indulged in the anticipation of taking possession without resistance.
Far otherwise, however, was it ordered. In fact, the Anglo-Saxons were rising from the Thames to the Tweed; and William soon received warning from one of the Normans settled in England not to trust to appearances.
"Be upon your guard," was the message, "for in four days the son of Godwin will be at the head of a hundred thousand men."
The warning was well meant, but somewhat unnecessary. William was not the man to be taken by surprise, as Hardrada had been. His camp was carefully guarded; and his outposts, extending to a great distance, kept watch night and day with unceasing vigilance. At length, on the morning of Friday, the 13th of October, horsemen galloped into the camp in such haste, that they had scarcely breath sufficient to communicate their intelligence.
"With what tidings come you?" asked the Normans eagerly.
"With tidings," answered the horsemen, "that the Saxon king is advancing furiously."
