and setting himself upon a high place, so that all might hear him, he said to them, “My true and loyal friends, ye have crossed the seas for love of me, and for that I cannot thank ye as I ought; but I will make what return I may, and what I have ye shall have.  I am not come only to take what I demanded, or to get my rights, but to punish felonies, treasons, and breaches of faith committed against our people by the men of this country.  Think, moreover, what great honor ye will have to-day if the day be ours.  And bethink ye that, if ye be discomfited, ye be dead men without help; for ye have not whither ye may retreat, seeing that our ships be broken up, and our mariners be here with us.  He who flies will be a dead man; he who fights will be saved.  For God’s sake, let each man do his duty; trust we in God, and the day will be ours.”

[Illustration:  William the Conqueror reviewing his Army——­357]

The address was too long for the duke’s faithful comrade, William Fitz-Osborn.  “My lord,” said he, “we dally; let us all to arms and forward, forward!” The army got in motion, starting from the hill of Telham or Heathland, according to Mr. Freeman, marching to attack the English on the opposite hill of Senlac.  A Norman, called Taillefer, “who sang very well, and rode a horse which was very fast, came up to the duke.  ‘My lord,’ said he, ’I have served you long, and you owe me for all my service:  pay me to day, an it please you; grant unto me, for recompense in full, to strike the first blow in the battle.’  ’I grant it,’ quoth the duke.  So Taillefer darted before him, singing the deeds of Charlemagne, of Roland, of Oliver, and of the vassals who fell at Roncesvalles.”  As he sang, he played with his sword, throwing it up into the air and catching it in his right hand; and the Normans followed, repeating his songs, and crying, “God help!  God help!” The English, intrenched upon a plateau towards which the Normans were ascending, awaited the assault, shouting, and defying the foe.

The battle, thus begun, lasted nine hours, with equal obstinacy on both sides, and varied success from hour to hour.  Harold, though wounded at the commencement of the fray, did not cease for a moment to fight, on foot, with his two brothers beside him, and around him the troops of London, who had the privilege of forming the king’s guard when he delivered a battle.  Rudely repulsed at the first charge, some bodies of Norman troops fell back in disorder, and a rumor spread amongst them that the duke was slain; but William threw himself before the fugitives, and, taking off his helmet, cried, “Look at me; here I am; I live, and by God’s help will conquer.”  So they returned to the combat.  But the English were firm; the Normans could not force their intrenchrnents; and William ordered his men to feign a retreat, and all but a flight.  At this sight the English bore down in pursuit:  “and still Norman fled and Saxon pursued, until