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Updated: June 21, 2025
"'Tis merry in the hall When beards wag all." But Hereward's beard began to wag somewhat too fast, as he sat by Torfrida's side, when some knight near began to tell of a wonderful mare, called Swallow, which was to be found in one of the islands of the Scheldt, and was famous through all the country round; insinuating, moreover, that Hereward might as well have brought that mare home with him as a trophy.
Then, too late, he took Hereward's advice, or, rather, half of it, and sailed north; but only to commit more follies. He dared not enter the Thames. He would not go on to the Wash; but he went into the Orwell, and attacked Ipswich, plundering right and left, instead of proclaiming King Sweyn, and calling the Danish folk around him.
I hear that thou hast left thy true lady, like a fool and a churl, and goest to London, or Winchester, or the nether pit, I care not which, to make thy peace with the Mamzer." The man was a surly brute: but what he said was so true, that Hereward's wrath arose. He had promised Torfrida many a time, never to quarrel with an Englishman, but to endure all things.
Only Geri dwelt in a corner of the house, and with him Leofric the Unlucky, once a roistering housecarle of Hereward's youth, now a monk of Crowland, and a deacon, whom Lady Godiva had sent thither that he might take care of her poor.
Still he could honour a valiant enemy; those who resisted to the last fared best. All the legends of Hereward's later days speak of him as admitted to William's peace and favour. One makes him die quietly, another kills him at the hands of Norman enemies, but not at William's bidding or with William's knowledge.
Hereward struck so valiant a last blow for England that he won the admiration of his great opponent; but William was not the man to rest content with aught short of victory, and every successful act of defence on the part of the English was met by a new movement of assault. Despite all Hereward's efforts, the causeway slowly but surely moved forward across the fens.
"You are young, and do not know me; and no shame to you. Go and tell William the King, that Hereward is come to put his hands between the King's, and be the King's man henceforth." "You are Hereward?" asked one, half awed, half disbelieving at Hereward's short stature. "You are I know not who.
Alef shouted to the combatants to desist; but ere the party could reach them, Hereward's opportunity had come. Ironhook, after a fruitless lunge, stumbled forward. Hereward leapt aside, and spying an unguarded spot below the corslet, drove his sword deep into the giant's body, and rolled him over upon the sward. Then arose shouts of fury. "Foul play!" cried one.
If Roland is the ideal of Norman feudal chivalry, Hereward is equally the ideal of Anglo-Saxon sturdy manliness and knighthood. An account of one of Hereward's adventures as a youth will serve as illustration of the stories told of his prowess.
Several of his companions in arms were thus gained over; for it will easily be guessed, that these memorials were intrusted to the keeping of Achilles Tatius, and he, to further their joint purposes, imparted them to Agelastes, who thus obtained a general credit for supernatural knowledge among these ignorant men. But Hereward's blunt faith and honesty enabled him to shun the snare.
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