In later centuries the Saxons themselves fell upon evil times, and were overcome by stronger races, or waged inconclusive defensive wars with other oversea marauders. Thus the isles were the scene of a hostile descent from Brittany in A.D. 918. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells us, in doleful language, of the miseries of that time; how a numerous fleet, commanded by Earls Ohtor and Rhoald, pillaged either shore from these fastnesses, and how finally they were defeated and Earl Rhoald slain, on the mainland; when “few of them got away, except those alone who there swam out to the ships. And then they sat down on the island of Bradanreolice, until such time as they were quite destitute of food; and many men died of hunger, because they could not obtain any food.” At length a famished remnant at last dispersed to South Wales and Ireland, and thus ingloriously faded out of history. Seventy years later, that is to say A.D. 988, the Danes, ravaging these coasts, made Steep Holm a base, and in 1066, after the Battle of Hastings, Gytha, mother of the brave but unfortunate Harold, took refuge here from the Norman. Steep Holm, one and a half miles round, is not an easy place to approach, having only two landings. It is the nearest of the two from Weston, being but three miles offshore, while Flat Holm is five and a half miles distant. The area of Steep Holm is, roughly, seventy acres. Geographically it is situated in the parish of Brean. It is the property of Mr. Kemeys-Tynte, of Cefn Mably, Cardiff, and is partly leased to the War Office, which maintains six heavy batteries here; the Gordon, Rudder Rock, Split Rock, Laboratory, Summit, and Tombstone forts, mounted with modern heavy guns, crowning the cliffs. Here also is a Lloyd’s signalling station, together with an inn, formerly a residence built by Mr. Kemeys-Tynte, who at one time resided here. Steep Holm was formerly known as the home of the single peony, a wild flower peculiar to the island; but enthusiastic botanists would appear to have by this time collected it so extensively from the wild, ivy-hung cliffs that it is not now to be found. But wild birds, of aquatic and other varieties, still abound. Scanty remains of an obscure fourteenth-century priory, in the shape of a dilapidated wall with no architectural features, are left. A ruined inn, roofless, a melancholy sight to thirsty souls, is left on the island, relic of the illegitimate enterprise of a fugitive publican and sinner, who, fleeing to this sanctuary for debtors, outside the ordinary jurisdiction of the petty courts, imagined himself, wrongly as it appeared, also beyond the reach of the Inland Revenue.