There, in the faint light, were the English on a hill; a wood behind them; in their midst, the Royal banner, representing a fighting warrior, woven in gold thread, adorned with precious stones; beneath the banner, as it rustled in the wind, stood King Harold on foot, with two of his remaining brothers by his side; around them, still and silent as the dead, clustered the whole English army--every soldier covered by his shield, and bearing in his hand his dreaded English battle-axe.
On an opposite hill, in three lines, archers, foot-soldiers, horsemen, was the Norman force.

Of a sudden, a great battle-cry, 'God help us!' burst from the Norman lines.

The English answered with their own battle- cry, 'God's Rood! Holy Rood!' The Normans then came sweeping down the hill to attack the English.
There was one tall Norman Knight who rode before the Norman army on a prancing horse, throwing up his heavy sword and catching it, and singing of the bravery of his countrymen.

An English Knight, who rode out from the English force to meet him, fell by this Knight's hand.

Another English Knight rode out, and he fell too.