tents
and around the camp fires. At length they all retired to rest, feeling
an additional sense of safety in respect to the work of the morrow by
having, as they supposed, entitled themselves, by their piety, to the
protection of Heaven.

In the morning, too, in William's camp, the first thing done was to
convene the army for a grand celebration of mass. It is a curious
illustration of the mingling of the religious, or, perhaps, we ought
rather to say, the superstitious sentiment of the times, with the
spirit of war, that the bishop who officiated in this solemn service of
the mass wore a coat of mail under his pontifical attire, and an
attendant stood by his side, while he was offering his prayers, with a
steel-pointed spear in his hand, ready for the martial prelate to assume
as soon as the service should be ended. Accordingly, when the religious
duty was performed, the bishop threw off his surplice, took his spear,
and mounting his white charger, which was also all saddled and bridled
beside him, he headed a brigade of horse, and rode on to the assault of
the enemy.

William himself mounted a very magnificent war-horse from Spain, a
present which he had formerly received from one of his wealthy barons.
The name of the horse was Bayard. From William's neck were suspended
some of the most sacred of the relics over which Harold had taken his
false oath. He imagined that there would be some sort of charm in them,
to protect his life, and to make the judgment of Heaven more sure
against the perjurer. The standard which the pope had blessed was borne
by his side by a young standard bearer, who was very proud of the honor.
An older soldier, however, on whom the care of this standard officially
devolved, had asked to be excused from carrying it. He wished, he said,
to do his work that day with the _sword_. While making these preliminary
arrangements for going into battle, William, with the party around him,
stood upon a gentle eminence in the middle of the camp, and in sight of
the whole army. Every one was struck with admiration at the splendid
figure which their commander made--his large and well-formed limbs
covered with steel, and his horse, whose form was as noble as that of
his master, prancing restlessly, as if impatient for the battle to
begin.

When all were ready, the Norman army advanced gayly and joyously to
attack the English lines; but the gayety and joyousness of the scene
soon disappeared, as corps afte