first victim of his prowess was an English standard-bearer; then fell a second; in the third attempt, amidst a clashing of swords upon helmets and a shower of Norman arrows, he himself fell.[1]
The close order in which Harold's army was drawn up is noticed by several of our authorities. The Carmen says:—
"Anglorum stat fixa solo densissima turba,[2]
Tela dat et telis, et gladios gladiis;"
and Huntingdon compares it to a castle, impenetrable to the Normans—"quasi castellum impenetrabile Normannis." "Each side," says Wace, "defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith; and the Normans say that the English hark (as in more modern times they tell us they whistle with 'la langue des oiseaux,' and for the same reason)—because they understand not their speech;" and thus the war of bitter words and still bitterer wounds went on. For some hours, apparently, little progress towards a decision of the conflict was made. The men of Harold stood well together, as their wont in battle was, and woe to the hardy Norman who ventured to enter their redoubts; for a single blow of a Saxon war-hatchet would break his lance and cut through his coat of mail.[3] What force therefore could not do was at length effected by stratagem. To quote the words of the monk of Battel: "By a preconcerted scheme the duke feigned a retreat with his army, and Eustace the valiant count of Boulogne, nimbly following the rear of the English who were scattered in the pursuit, rushed upon them with his powerful troops."[4] It was during this retreat and pursuit that there occurred an incident of a frightful character, which is particularly described by Wace. "In the plain" says he, "was a fosse .... The English charged and drove the Normans before them, till they made them fall back upon this fosse, overthrowing into it horses and men. Many were to be seen falling therein, rolling one over the other, with their faces to the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English also, whom the Normans drew down along with them, died there.
