The castle was at once set on fire, the Welsh
ships on the Avon were also given to the flames, and the very same day
Harold led his troops away and by easy marches took them back to
Gloucester. Here they halted. The housecarls from the south, who had never
been in contact with the Welsh, were inclined to murmur among themselves at
having been led back without striking a blow, but the contingents from the
western counties, who had had experience of this wild warfare, told them
that they might consider themselves fortunate.
"You know not what a war with these savages is," an old housecarl who had
fought them again and again said to a listening group of Wulf's men. "You
might as well fight with the evil spirits of the air as with them. Fight!
there is no fighting in it, save when they have with them Danes from the
North, or Norwegians. With these to bear the brunt of the battle the Welsh
will fight valiantly in their fashion, but alone they know that they cannot
withstand us for a moment. I have been after them a score of times, and it
is a night-mare. You go up hills and through forests, you plunge into
morasses, you scramble up precipices; you are wet, you are hungry, you are
worn out, but never do you catch sight of one of them.
"Now and then, as you wind along the face of a hill, rocks will come
thundering down; in the woods and swamps you hear their mocking yells and
laughter. At the end of the day you drop down where you halt, and then just
as you fall off to sleep there is a wild yell, and in a moment they are
swarming among you, slashing and ripping with their long knives, crawling
on the ground and springing upon you, getting among the horses and
hamstringing or cutting them open.
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