"Now," said William, "they must either use their shields to guard their
heads--and their axes are useless--or while they smite with the axe they
fall by the shaft. On now to the ramparts. I see my crown already
resting on yonder standard!"

Yet despite all, the English bear up; the thickness of the palisades, the
comparative smallness of the last enclosure, more easily therefore manned
and maintained by the small force of the survivors, defy other weapons
than those of the bow. Every Norman who attempts to scale the breastwork
is slain on the instant, and his body cast forth under the hoofs of the
baffled steeds. The sun sinks near and nearer towards the red horizon.

"Courage!" cries the voice of Harold, "hold but till nightfall, and ye
are saved. Courage and freedom!"

"Harold and Holy Crosse!" is the answer.

Still foiled, William again resolves to hazard his fatal stratagem. He
marked that quarter of the enclosure which was most remote from the chief
point of attack--most remote from the provident watch of Harold, whose
cheering voice, ever and anon, he recognised amidst the hurtling clamour.
In this quarter the palisades were the weakest, and the ground the least
elevated; but it was guarded by men on whose skill with axe and shield
Harold placed the firmest reliance--the Anglo-Danes of his old
East-Anglian earldom. Thither, then, the Duke advanced a chosen column
of his heavy-armed foot, tutored especially by himself in the rehearsals
of his favourite ruse, and accompanied by a band of archers; while at the
same time, he himself, with his brother Odo, headed a considerable
company of knights under the son of the great Roger de Beaumont, to gain
the contiguous level heights on which now stretches the little town of
"Battle;" there to watch and to aid the manoeuvre. The foot column
advanced to the appointed spot, and after a short, close, and terrible
conflict, succeeded in making a wide breach in the breastworks. But that
temporary success only animates yet more the exertions of the beleaguered
defenders, and swarming round the breach, and pouring through it, line
after line of the foe drop beneath their axes. The column of the
heavy-armed Normans fall back down the slopes--they give way--they turn
in disorder--they retreat--they fly; but the archers stand firm, midway
on the descent--those archers seem an easy prey to the English--the
temptation is irresistible. Long galled, and harassed, and maddened