They moved slowly down the bill towards the brook, man after man falling and dotting the green sward of the hill with struggling, writhing bodies.

Meanwhile, Cynewulf was attempting to rally the flying foot, which had been cut almost in two by the charge of the Mercian cavalry:  he succeeded, with great difficulty, in doing so at the brook which ran along the bottom of the valley, and, with the stream in their front, they prepared to afford a refuge to their own, and to resist the hostile horse.

Edwy saw the opportunity, and, raising himself in his stirrups, called upon his friends to follow him:  he leapt the brook, and galloped round behind the foot, where nearly all the unwounded horsemen followed him.  He had fought well, had slain more than one foe with his own royal hand, as became a descendant of Cerdic, and now he but retired to organise another and stouter resistance to the daring foe.

But he was forced to admit now that Cynewulf was right in his conjecture, and that they were utterly outnumbered, for the foe poured forth from their entrenchment and advanced in good order down the slope; while the Mercian cavalry, forming in two detachments to the left and right, crossed the brook and charged along its banks upon the flanks of the Wessex infantry, at the same moment.

The warrior upon whose advice Edwy had been told to depend had fallen:  he was left to his own resources.  Alas! he forgot he was a commander, and, waving his plumed cap as a signal for his brother knights to follow, charged upon the horsemen who were advancing up stream at like speed, forgetting that a similar body was advancing in the opposite direction, and that as all his force were following his lead, the opposite flank of the foot was unprotected.

In a single minute they were all engaged in the fiercest melee which imagination can well paint, fighting as furiously as men of the same blood only seem to fight when once the claims of kindred are cast aside.  Swords ascended and descended with deadly violence; horses raised themselves up on their hind legs, and, catching the deadly enthusiasm, seemed to engage their fellows; riders fell, sternly repressing the groan which pain would extort, while their steeds, less self controlled, uttered, when wounded, those ear-piercing cries only heard from the animals in deadly terror or pain.

In the midst of this tumult Elfric engaged a Mercian of superior size and strength; it was his second personal encounter; in his first, he had seen his adversary fall with a warrior’s stern joy, but now he was overmatched; borne down by an arm twice as strong as his own, his guard was broken down, and a deadly blow laid open his shoulder, cutting the veins in the neck of his horse at the same fell sweep.  The animal, blinded with blood, staggered, fell, and he was down amongst the horses’ feet, confined by one leg, for his horse rolled partly upon him in its dying struggles; while he felt the hoofs of other chargers in close proximity to his heed.