lves and quivers
full of arrows; then the knights in coats of mail, with long lances
and two-edged swords; Duke William steps out last from the ship, and
falls foremost on both hands. His men gather about him in alarm, but
he says, "See, my lords, I have taken possession of England with both
my hands. It is now mine, and what is mine is yours."

Word is sent to Harold to surrender the throne, but he returns answer
as haughty as is sent. Brave and noble, he plants his standard, a
warrior sparkling with gold and precious stones, and thus addresses
his men:--

"The Normans are good knights, and well used to war. If they pierce
our ranks, we are lost. Cleave, and do not spare!" Then they build
up a breastwork of shields, which no man can pass alive. William of
Normandy is ready for action. He in turn addresses his men: "Spare
not, and strike hard. There will be booty for all. It will be in vain
to ask for peace; the English will not give it. Flight is impossible;
at the sea you will find neither ship nor bridge; the English would
overtake and annihilate you there. The victory is in our hands."

From nine till three the battle rages. The case becomes desperate.
William orders the archers to fire into the air, as they cannot pierce
English armor, and arrows fall down like rain upon the Saxons. Harold
is pierced in the eye. He is soon overcome and trampled to death by
the enemy, dying, it is said, with the words "Holy Cross" upon his
lips.

Ten thousand are killed on either side, and the Saxons pass forever
under foreign rule. Harold's mother comes and begs the body of her
son, and pays for it, some historians say, its weight in gold.

Every foot of ground at Battle Abbey is historic, and all the country
round most interesting. We drive over the smoothest of roads to a
palace in the distance,--Normanhurst, the home of Lady Brassey, the
distinguished author and traveller. Towers are at either corner and
in the centre, and ivy climbs over the spacious vestibule to the roof.
Great buildings for waterworks, conservatories, and the like, are
adjoining, in the midst of flower-gardens and acres of lawn and
forest. It is a place fit for the abode of royalty itself.

In no home have I seen so much that is beautiful gathered from all
parts of the world. The hall, as you enter, square and hung with
crimson velvet, is adorned with valuable paintings. Two easy-chairs
before the fireplace are made from ostriches, their backs forming