brother, and this Norwegian King, joining their forces against England, with Duke William's help, won a fight in which the English were commanded by two nobles; and then besieged York. Harold, who was waiting for the Normans on the coast at Hastings, with his army, marched to Stamford Bridge upon the river Derwent to give them instant battle.
He found them drawn up in a hollow circle, marked out by their shining spears. Riding round this circle at a distance, to survey it, he saw a brave figure on horseback, in a blue mantle and a bright helmet, whose horse suddenly stumbled and threw him, "Who is that man who has fallen?" Harold asked of one of his captains.
"The King of Norway," he replied.
"He is a tall and stately king," said Harold," but his end is near."
He added, in a little while, "Go yonder to my brother, and tell him, if he withdraw his troops, he shall be Earl of Northumberland, and rich and powerful in England."
The captain rode away and gave the message.
"What will he give to my friend the King of Norway?" asked the brother.
"Seven feet of earth for a grave," replied the captain.
"No more?" returned the brother, with a smile.
"The King of Norway being a tall man, perhaps a little more," replied the captain.
"Hide back!" said the brother, "and tell King Harold to make ready for the fight! "
He did so, very soon. And such a fight King Harold led against that force, that his brother, and the Norwegian King, and every chief of note in all their host, except the Norwegian King's son, Olave, to whom he gave honorable dismissal, were left dead upon the field. The victorious army marched to York. As King Harold sat there at the feast, in the midst of all his company, a stir was heard at the doors; and messengers all covered with mire from riding far and fast through broken ground came hurrying in, to report that the Normans had landed in England.
The intelligence was true. They had been tossed about by contrary winds, and some of their ships had been wrecked. A part of their own shore, to which they had,
