case of the worst. The battle that ensued the next day, September 20,
1066, is forever memorable in English history.

Snorro gives vividly enough his view of it from the Icelandic side: A
ring of stalwart Norsemen, close ranked, with their steel tools in
hand; English Harold's Army, mostly cavalry, prancing and pricking all
around; trying to find or make some opening in that ring. For a long
time trying in vain, till at length, getting them enticed to burst out
somewhere in pursuit, they quickly turned round, and quickly made an
end, of that matter. Snorro represents English Harold, with a first
party of these horse coming up, and, with preliminary salutations,
asking if Tosti were there, and if Harald were; making generous
proposals to Tosti; but, in regard to Harald and what share of England
was to be his, answering Tosti with the words, "Seven feet of English
earth, or more if he require it, for a grave." Upon which Tosti, like
an honorable man and copartner, said, "No, never; let us fight you
rather till we all die." "Who is this that spoke to you?" inquired
Harald, when the cavaliers had withdrawn. "My brother Harold,"
answers Tosti; which looks rather like a Saga, but may be historical
after all. Snorro's history of the battle is intelligible only after
you have premised to it, what he never hints at, that the scene was on
the east side of the bridge and of the Derwent; the great struggle for
the bridge, one at last finds, was after the fall of Harald; and to
the English Chroniclers, said struggle, which was abundantly severe,
is all they know of the battle.

Enraged at that breaking loose of his steel ring of infantry, Norse
Harald blazed up into true Norse fury, all the old Vaeringer and
Berserkir rage awakening in him; sprang forth into the front of the
fight, and mauled and cut and smashed down, on both hands of him,