Having exchanged peril for security, and glory for ease, Hereward indulged in dreams of peace and comfort. But the Normans were not disposed to spare so formidable a foe. Determined to rid the country, by some means, of one who might again prove a mighty adversary, they several times attacked his house without success. One day, however, Fortune placed him in their power.
It was a summer afternoon; and, after having dined, Hereward stretched himself in his orchard, with his hound at his feet, to enjoy some repose. He was without a coat of mail, but beside him lay his sword and a short spear, which Saxons of his rank always carried with them. As Hereward slept, a band of armed men, led by Asselm, a Norman, and Raoul de Dol, a knight of Brittany, cautiously penetrated into the orchard; and he, suddenly awakened by the barking of the hound, found himself hemmed in. But even in this emergency the heart of the hero did not fail him. Rising with a bound, before which the armed band recoiled, he faced his foes and demanded their errand.
"Whom seek you?" he asked, sternly.
"You," was the significant answer.
"False traitors!" he cried; "the king has granted me his peace. Seek you me for my goods or my life?"
"Both."
"Then," exclaimed Hereward, "ye shall pay for them dearly!" and with these words he thrust his short spear with such force against a Norman knight who stood near, that it pierced through the hauberk into the heart, and came out dripping with life's blood.
The Normans, startled, but confident in their numbers, now attempted to close with Hereward, and inflicted numerous wounds. But the Saxon hero returned blow for blow. When his spear broke he drew his sword, and made so desperate a resistance, that, at times, the issue of the combat appeared doubtful. Even when his sword broke on the helmet of one of his antagonists, he continued to fight with the pommel; and fifteen Normans had fallen beneath his hand, when he, at once, received four lance thrusts, and felt himself borne to the ground. Still he continued to struggle. Seizing a buckler, he struck Raoul de Dol so fiercely in the face, that the warlike Breton fell dead on the spot. But strength and life were now spent, and Hereward sank and expired.
As Hereward lay dead, Asselm, the Norman, cut off the hero's head, but not without an emphatic expression of admiration. "By the virtue of God!" he exclaimed, "I swear that I have never in my life seen so valiant a man!"
