helmet, and beat him to the ground; and as he sought to recover himself, a knight, beat him down again, striking him on the thick of the thigh, down to the bone."[1] The men who struck the fatal blows were never known, and probably they themselves fell in the desperate mêlée. The princes Girth and Leofwine were killed in the same fatal onset. This is shown by several authorities, although the Bayeux Tapestry places their death at a much earlier stage of the battle.
Respecting the precise spot where Harold and his standard fell, there is no doubt. William had vowed to build his monastery upon the site of the conflict, and that he built it here, upon the identical place where the crowning-point of his victory happened, is stated by several authorities, and the Chronicle of Battel Abbey, written upon the spot, furnishes conclusive proof of it. When William of Marmoutier and his brethren, some time after the battle, engaged in the work of rearing the abbey, not liking the place on account of its lack of water, they proceeded to build on a more eligible site on the western side of the hill, at a place called Herst;[2] but the Conqueror hearing of what they had done waxed wroth, "and commanded them with all haste to lay the foundation of the temple on the very place where he had achieved the victory over his enemy." The brethren suggested the inconvenience which would arise from the dryness of the site, when William gave utterance to the memorable promise that, if God would spare his life, he would so amply endow the establishment, that wine should be more abundant there than water in any other great Abbey. The chronicler goes on to inform us that, "in accordance with the king's decree, they wisely erected the high altar upon the precise spot where the ensign of Harold, which they call the Standard, was observed to fall."[3]
The place is still pointed out. The noble Abbey-Church had been destroyed at the Reformation, and all traces of its parts and arrangements had been well-nigh obliterated; shrubs and parterres covered the ground once drenched with the blood of patriots and long hallowed by the offices of religion; but the finger of tradition faithfully pointed to a spot which art, and nature, and time had combined to conceal. Sir Godfrey
