Harold drew up his bodyguard on the crest of the hill, where he had planted his standard, the Golden Dragon of Wessex. Close by were the men of London, who had the right of fighting by the side of their king. These men were all clad in coats of mail, and carried battle-axes, and javelins for throwing. On the sides of the hill were posted the other soldiers and the country people, many of whom were armed only with darts, knives, and pitchforks, for they had come in very hastily from the fields. Round the hill the men had dug a trench, and fortified it with a stockade; and behind the stockade Harold posted a line of soldiers, standing close together, shield touching shield. Then Harold and his two brothers rode through the army, saying, 'Keep your ranks, men! Stand shoulder to shoulder, and we shall win the day. But if you leave your line, or allow the Normans to break it, we are lost. Stand firm!' After having passed from rank to rank, and spoken to all the men, Harold and his brothers rode back to the royal standard and dismounted, for they were resolved to fight on foot and take what came like the meanest of their soldiers. Meanwhile Duke William had drawn up his men in three divisions, with a long line of archers in front. In the centre were posted the Norman knights with William at their head; and the sacred banner, the three lions of Normandy, floating above them. Suddenly there burst from the Norman lines their battle-cry of 'God aid us!' and the vast army began to move across the plain. At the head rode a minstrel-knight, singing an old battle-song, and whirling up his sword in the air and catching it again as it fell. Now the battle began in real earnest. A flight of arrows was let loose upon the English host, then the Normans charged up to the palisade. As well might they have flung themselves against a stone wall. Standing shoulder to shoulder, the English swung their huge battle-axes, which clove their way through armour and shirts of mail. Again and again the Normans charged against the barricade, the duke himself at their head, his eyes shining like balls of living fire and his voice like a trumpet; but they were driven back like waves breaking around the base of a cliff. On all sides the battle raged. Lances clashed, sword rang upon sword, arrows whizzed through the air, and battle-axes crashed through steel armour; while the cries of the wounded mingled with the blasts of the war-horn and English cries of 'Out, out!' answered the Norman shouts of 'God aid us!' Stoutest of the English was Harold, whose heavy battle-axe would cut down horse and rider at a blow. Among the Normans there arose a cry that the duke was slain. 'Here am I,' shouted William, tearing off his helmet, 'and by God's aid will yet win the day!'