WHAT DEEDS OF ARMS DUKE WILLIAM DID; AND HOW
HAROLD WAS SLAIN AND THE ENGLISH FLED.
Duke William pressed close upon the English with his lance; striving
hard to reach the standard with the great troop he led; and seeking
earnestly for Harold, on whose acconnt the whole war was. The Normans
follow their lord, and press around him; they ply their blows upon the
English; and these defend themselves stoutly, striving hard with their
enemies, returning blow for blow.
One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, who did great
mischief to the Normans with his hatchet; all feared him, for he struck
down a great many Normans. The duke spurred on his horse, and aimed a
blow at him, but he stooped, and so escaped the stroke; then jumping on
one side, he lifted his hatchet aloft, and as the duke bent to avoid the
blow, the Englishman boldly struck him on the head, and beat in his
helmet, though without doing much injury. He was very near falling
however, but bearing on his stirrups he recovered himself immediately;
and when he thought to have revenged himself on the vagabond by killing
him, the rogue had escaped, dreading the duke's blow. He ran back in
among the English, but he was not safe even there, for the Normans
seeing him, pursued and caught him; and having pierced him through and
through with their lances, left him dead on the ground.
Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the men of Kent and of
Essex fought wondrously well, and made the Normans again retreat, but
without doing them much injury. And when the duke saw his men fall back,
and the English triumphing over them, his spirit rose high, and he
seized his shield by the 'enarmes'[1], and his lance, which a vassal
handed to him, and took his post by his gonfanon.
Then those who kept close guard by him, and rode where he rode, being
about a thousand armed men, came and rushed with closed ranks upon the
English; and with the weight of their good horses, and the blows the
knights gave, broke the press of the enemy, and scattered the crowd
before them, the good duke leading them on in front[2]. Many pursued and
many fled; many were the Englishmen who fell around, and were trampled
under the horses, crawling upon the earth, and not able to rise. Many of
the richest and noblest men fell in that rout, but still the English
rallied in places; smote down those whom they reached, and maintained
the combat the best they could; beating down the men and killing the
horses. One Englishman watched the duke, and plotted to kill him; he
would have struck him with his lance, but he could not, for the duke
struck him first, and felled him to the earth.
Loud was now the clamour, and great the slaughter; many a soul then
quitted the body it inhabited. The living marched over the heaps of
dead, and each side was weary of striking. He charged on who could, and
he who could no longer strike still pushed forward. The strong struggled
with the strong; some failed, others triumphed; the cowards fell back,
the brave pressed on; and sad was his fate who fell in the midst, for he
had little chance of rising again; and many in truth fell who never rose
at all, being crushed under the throng.
And now the Normans had pressed on so far, that at last they reached the
standard[3]. There Harold had remained, defending himself to the utmost;
but he was sorely wounded in his eye by the arrow, and suffered grievous
pain from the blow. An armed man came in the throng of the battle, and
struck him on the ventaille of his helmet, and beat him to the ground;
and as he sought to recover himself, a knight beat him down again,
striking him on the thick of his thigh, down to the bone.
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Gurth saw the English falling around, and that there was no remedy. He
saw his race hastening to ruin, and despaired of any aid; he would
have fled, but could not, for the throng continually increased. And the
duke pushed on till he reached him, and struck him with great force.
Whether he died of that blow I know not, but it was said that he fell
under it, and rose no more.
The standard was beaten down, the golden gonfanon was taken, and Harold
and the best of his friends were slain; but there was so much eagerness,
and throng of so many around, seeking to kill him, that I know not who
it was that slew him.
The English were in great trouble at having lost their king, and at the
duke's having conquered and beat down the standard; but they still
fought on, and defended themselves long, and in fact till the day drew
to a close. Then it clearly appeared to all that the standard was lost,
and the news had spread throughout the army that Harold, for certain,
was dead; and all saw that there was no longer any hope, so they left
the field, and those fled who could[4].
I do not tell, and I do not indeed know, for I was not there to see, and
have not heard say, who it was that smote down king Harold, nor by what
weapon he was wounded; but this I know, that he was found among the
dead. His great force availed him nothing; amidst the slain he was found
slain also[4].
The English who escaped from the field did not stop till they reached
London, for they were in great fear, and cried out that the Normans
followed close after them[5]. The press was great to cross the bridge,
and the river beneath it was deep; so that the bridge[6] broke under the
throng, and many fell into the water.
William fought well; many an assault did he lead, many a blow did he
give, and many receive, and many fell dead under his hand. Two[7]
horses were killed under him, and he took a third when necessary, so
that he fell not to the ground, and lost not a drop of blood. But
whatever any one did, and whoever lived or died, this is certain, that
William conquered, and that many of the English fled from the field, and
many died on the spot. Then he returned thanks to God, and in his pride
ordered his gonfanon to be brought and set up on high, where the English
standard had stood; and that was the signal of his having conquered, and
beaten down the standard. And he ordered his tent to be raised on the
spot among the dead, and had his meat brought thither, and his supper
prepared there.
But behold, up galloped Galtier Giffart; "Sire," said he, "what are you
about? you are surely not fitly placed here among the dead. Many an
Englishman lies bloody and mingled with the dead, but yet sound, or only
wounded and besmeared with gore; tarrying of his own accord, and meaning
to rise at night, and escape in the darkness[8]. They would delight to
take their revenge, and would sell their lives dearly; no one of them
caring who killed him afterwards, if he but slew a Norman first; for
they say we have done them much wrong. You should lodge elsewhere, and
let yourself be guarded by one or two thousand armed men, whom you can
best trust. Let a careful watch be set this night, for we know not what
snares may be laid for us. You have made a noble day of it, but I like
to see the end of the work." "Giffart," said the duke, "I thank God, we
have done well hitherto; and, if such be God's will, we will go on, and
do well henceforward. Let us trust God for all!"
Then he turned from Giffart, and took off his armour; and the barons and
knights, pages and squires came, when he had unstrung his shield; and
they took the helmet from his head, and the hauberk from his back, and
saw the heavy blows upon his shield, and how his helmet was dinted in.
And all greatly wondered, and said, "Such a baron (ber) never bestrode
warhorse, nor dealt such blows, nor did such feats of arms; neither has
there been on earth such a knight since Rollant and Oliver."
Thus they lauded and extolled him greatly, and rejoiced in what they
saw; but grieving also for their friends who were slain in the battle.
And the duke stood meanwhile among them, of noble stature and mien; and
rendered thanks to the king of glory, through whom he had the victory;
and thanked the knights around him, mourning also frequently for the
dead. And he ate and drank among the dead, and made his bed that night
upon the field.
The morrow was Sunday; and those who had slept upon the field of battle,
keeping watch around, and suffering great fatigue, bestirred themselves
at break of day, and sought out and buried such of the bodies of their
dead friends as they might find. The noble ladies of the land also came,
some to seek their husbands, and others their fathers, sons, or
brothers[9]. They bore the bodies to their villages, and interred them
at the churches; and the clerks and priests of the country were ready,
and, at the request of their friends, took the bodies that were found,
and prepared graves and lay them therein.
King Harold was carried and buried at Varham[10]; but I know not who it
was that bore him thither, neither do I know who buried him. Many
remained on the field, and many had fled in the night.
[Footnote 1: The enarmes were two thongs, or loops of leather, fixed to
the inside of the shield, by which it was borne on the arm. There was
besides a leather strap and buckle, by which the shield was, when not in
use, strung to the warrior's neck. This extra strap was called the
guige; and left the bearer the use of both hands, which were necessary
when fighting with the battle axe.]
[Footnote 2: L'_Estoire de Seint Ædward le Rei_ puts an energetic
exhortation into William's mouth at this crisis:
Ke put estre, dist-il, ceste
Cuardie, segnurs Normantz,
Ki ancesurs avea si grants?
Rois Rou, ki as coups de lance
Descumfist le rei de France,
E le mata en mi sa terre,
Par force de bataille e guerre;
E ducs Richard k'apres li vint,
Ki _li diable_ ateint e tint.
E le venquit e le lia.
E vus failliz, forlignez ja!
Sivet moi, ma gent demeine!]
[Footnote 3: _William of Poitiers_ and _William of Malmsbury_ give the
following description of this gonfanon or standard: 'Memorabile quoque
vexillum Heraldi, hominis armati imaginem intextum habens ex auro
purissimo.' 'Vexillum illud ... quod erat in hominis pugnantis figurâ,
auro et lapidibus arte sumptuosâ contextum.']
[Footnote 4: _Benoit_ and the author of the _Estoire de Seint Ædward_,
describe the result of the battle and Harold's fall in a few lines. See
appendix.]
[Footnote 5: Some discrepancy has been pointed out between the account
here given by Wace and that found in _William of Jumieges_ and _William
of Poitiers_. The Latin historians say more as to resistance to the last
in the battle. There can, however, hardly be said to be any material
variance. The fight being ended, all agree that the English army
dispersed and ultimately fled; and what Wace dwells upon seems to have
reference to the circumstances of this final retreat. _Benoit_ says,
Cele occise, cele dolor
Tint tant cum point i out deu jor,
Ne la nuit ne failli la paine
Ci que parut le Diemaine.
--si quide l'om bien e creit
Qu'a cinc milliers furent esmé
Sol eu grant champ del fereiz,
Quant qu'il fussent desconfiz
Estre l'occise e la martire
_Qui fu tute la nuit a tire._]
[Footnote 6: The author of the '_Chronicles of London Bridge_' has
missed recording this notice of the early history of that structure;
which seems till the reign of Hen. I, to have been of a very fragile
character, probably a bridge of boats.]
[Footnote 7: _William of Poitiers_ and _William of Malmsbury_ mention
three horses, as killed under William. _William of Poitiers_ states his
prowess to have been hailed in songs, as well as verbal applause;
'plausibus et dulcibus cantilenis efferebant.']
[Footnote 8: _William of Jumieges_ makes it the middle of the night,
before William returned from the pursuit; though his subsequent
expression would rather imply daylight: 'ad aream belli regressus,
reperit stragem, quam non absque miseratione conspexit.']
[Footnote 9: Other authority supplies the fact that free leave was
given, expressly for the purpose of seeking and interring the dead; see
_William of Poitiers_, and _Benoit de Sainte-More_ on the same subject.]
[Footnote 10: WALTHAM ABBEY, founded or restored by Harold. According to
_William of Poitiers_, and _Ordericus_, the body was brought to William;
and being refused to Ghita, Harold's mother, was committed to William
Malet, to be buried on the sea shore. _William of Malmsbury_ has a
different account: he says the body was given to Ghita, who bore it to
Waltham. Perhaps this and other variations of the story were subsequent
inventions, to suppress the dishonourable truth, as to William's
revenge. The accounts in _Benoit_, the _Brut_, and _L'Estoire de Seint
Ædward_, are in our appendix. The story told in the _Waltham MS_. (Cott.
Jul. D. vi.) as to the pious offices of Osgod Cnoppe, and Ailric the
childemaister, two of its monks, and the more romantic legend, in
Harold's life, (Harl. MS. 3776),--see our appendix,--are both quoted in
Palgrave's _History of England_, 1831. As to the Editha brought to
Osgod's aid in discerning the body, and as to her being different from
'Eddeva pulchra' of Domesday, see _Introd. Dom_. ii. 79.]
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