Had we met here but to commemorate the one great disaster of our English annals, we should not be so eager to be here, and should look abashed upon the ground. But we meet here in the proud knowledge that since that fatal Saturday, no foe has lorded it over our peaceful vales. Only when England felt sick to her heart's core, under the tyrant
John -- when England kept not true unto herself,did foreign banners flaunt fitfully on English soil. Since then full many a mighty host and fleet have hovered threateningly around our coasts, but never dared to face us on our shores; to meet us,man to man; to listen to an English cheer; or stand the charge of English steel.
We feel so far removed from that sad day, so fraught to us with weal and woe, that we can calmly gaze on these quiet dales, once filled with strife, but hardly listen unmoved to the spirit-stirring tale.
It is not for me to say, what all know so well, how it chanced that the two boldest warriors of that age -- who had each in his own land no other peer, to whose standards victory seemed chained , and who had fought together as brothers in arms-- both claimed to themselves the right to wield the sceptre of this realm . Nor they alone; for, Hardrada, Norway 's giant-king, and Toustain, Harold 's traitor-brother, alike contended for this princely prize.
On the 5th of January, 1066, King Edward the Confessor died ; (and be it observed, that the difference of style would throw all events forward about a week;) on the 6th, the great Thanes of England and the men of London chose -
