On came the Norman column. Steadily awaited them the English phalanx.
"Dieu aide!" or "God is our help!" shouted the assailing knights.
"Christ's rood! the holy rood!" roared back the English warriors. Nearer
they came, till they looked in each other's eyes, and the battle was
ready to begin.
And now, from the van of the Norman host, rode a man of renown, the
minstrel Taillefer. A gigantic man he was, singer, juggler, and champion
combined. As he rode fearlessly forward he chanted in a loud voice the
ancient "Song of Roland," flinging his sword in the air with one hand as
he sang, and catching it as it fell with the other. As he sang, the
Normans took up the refrain of his song, or shouted their battle cry of
"Dieu aide."
Onward he rode, thrusting his blade through the body of the first
Englishman he met. The second he encountered was flung wounded to the
ground. With the third the "Song of Roland" ended; the giant minstrel
was hurled from his horse pierced with a mortal wound. He had sung his
last song. He crossed himself and was at rest.
On came the Normans, the band of knights led by William assailing
Harold's centre, the mercenary host of French and Bretons attacking his
flanks.
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