Having thus deprived the Northumbrians of their allies, William assembled an army composed of picked soldiers, and, by forced marches, suddenly appeared at York. The Northumbrians, taken by surprise, and dispirited by the departure of the Danes, nevertheless girded themselves up for the combat, resisted with the courage of despair, and fell by thousands while attempting to oppose the Conqueror's passage through the breaches of the walls. But long as was the struggle, and dearly-purchased as was William's success, his victory was complete. Edgar Atheling left as a fugitive the land of his ancestors, and all who could, made their escape northward. Finding himself once more master of York, William determined to extend his conquest to the Tweed. Cruelly and savagely the work was begun. Precipitating themselves on Northumberland, the Normans wreaked their fury on all that the land contained. Flocks and herds were massacred as well as men; corn-fields were burned with the towns and hamlets they surrounded; and the devastation seems to have been pursued on such a scale as to render the country uninhabitable. Wasting, burning, slaughtering as they went, the Normans at length reached Durham, which in the previous year had witnessed the death of Robert Comine. When, one winter's day, news of the Conqueror's approach reached Durham, the bishop and his clergy were well-nigh in despair. It was the very depth of the season. Nevertheless, they resolved to be gone. "Let us fly," they cried, "to some place where neither Norman, nor Burgundian, nor brigand, nor vagabond can reach us." Accordingly they set out for Holy Island, carrying with them the bones of St. Cuthbert and all their moveables of value. They left, however, a crucifix, richly adorned with gold and silver gems, which had, in other days, been presented to the church by Tostig, the son of Godwin, and his haughty countess, Judith of Flanders. This crucifix appears to have been too heavy for the monks to carry. But they consoled themselves with the idea that, instead of tempting sacrilege, it would act as a protection to the church, and to the sick and infirm persons who had crawled to seek refuge within the sacred precincts, and who, overcome with pain, and misery, and fatigue, lay in crowds on the bare stones. While the bishop and clergy were flying, William entered Durham, and the Normans took possession of the city, without being disturbed in their slumbers as Robert Comine had been. Indeed, resistance was now scarcely thought of, even by the most desperate; and the conquering army traversed Northumberland in all directions, killing the unresisting. The sufferings of the inhabitants were fearful. Between the Humber and the Tweed, more than a hundred thousand human beings perished by famine and the sword; and many, bidding farewell for ever to the fields and homesteads of their fathers, hurried northward, and sought safety in the Merse and Lothian.