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Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts), 1856-1913

"A Prince of Cornwall A Story of Glastonbury and the West in the Days of Ina of Wessex"

I
do not think that we harmed many of them in the hurry and the dark,
but we scared them terribly. Here and there one rolled under the
horses' hoofs, and we paid no heed to such as fell thus, and they
rose again and fled the faster. All but one, that is, so far as I
was concerned. I charged a man, and my spear missed him as he leapt
aside, and he struck at my horse as I passed him, and the next
moment I was rolling on the ground with the good steed, and the man
behind me had to leap over us as we lay. That was one of the Sussex
thanes, and he was no mean horseman or unready, luckily. Then he
chased my enemy out of the camp, and came back to see if I were
hurt. But I was not, and I bade him go on with the rest. We were
almost across the camp at this time.
"Take my horse rather," he said. "See, there is a bit of a stand
being made yonder."
There were yet some valiant and cooler-headed Welshmen whom the
panic had not carried away, and they were getting together to our
right. The camp was full three hundred paces across, and as we
spread over it our line had gaps here and there, so that some at
least had seen what our numbers were. They had passed into the camp
again over the earthworks, or had been passed by in the place by
us, and they were gathering round one who wore the crested helm and
gilded arms of a chief, and he was raving at the cowards who had
left him.


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