The Boy's Book of Heroes. Helena Peake

In the days of Edward the Confessor there lived in Mercia a noble Anglo-Saxon youth named Hereward. He was brave, stedfast, and spirited, but so violent and overbearing, so ready to quarrel and to use his sword, if everything he desired was not conceded to him at once that the youths he played and wrestled with around his home at Bourne[1], resolved to make complaint of him to his father, Leofric, the great Earl of Mercia.

      Leofric was a very valiant man, and he had done King Edward good service at the time of Earl Godwin's rebellion. He had three sons; of these Hereward was the second; the eldest was Algar, whom the Confessor made lord over East Anglia.

      Leofric was very much grieved when he heard, day after day, of the unruly deeds of his son, and found that he paid little heed to the reproofs he so justly deserved. And if Leofric was grieved, far more so was his wife, the saintly lady Godiva, who passed nearly the whole of her time in the performance of good works, feeding and clothing the poor, nursing the sick, and praying long hours for those she loved, and it may be most of all for her wayward son, Hereward. Besides this, she gave large sums of money for the support of religious houses, and founded the monastery at Coventry, which is said to have contained greater treasure of gold, silver, and jewels, than any other in England.

      But father and mother at last were wearied out, and Leofric persuaded King Edward to outlaw his turbulent son, as the only means of preserving peace in the neighbourhood of his castle of Bourne.

      The youth, not the least dismayed when sentence was passed upon him, set out on his travels accompanied by one servant, named Martin, as brave and as reckless as himself, and who followed him because he loved him. Perhaps some of his relations were sorry after all to see him go, for they could not help admiring his free, brave spirit, and amongst those who cared for him was his uncle Brand, abbot of Peterborough, a very pious man, as the chroniclers say, but haughty and unbending to the enemies of his land.

      Let us glance at Hereward as he bade farewell for many a year to the home of his youth. He was of middle height, broad shouldered, and sturdy limbed, but active and graceful in all his movements. His features were handsome, his golden hair fell in long curls over his shoulders, according to the Saxon fashion; one of his large eyes being blue and the other grey, gave a strange expression to his countenance.

      It is supposed that he lived chiefly in the woods and forests during the early days of his exile, but a few months after he quitted Bourne, we find him "beyond Northumberland" with the Fleming, Gilbert of Ghent, who bore him good-will, and had sent for him as soon as he heard that he was outlawed. Hereward had not been long in his friend's house, which was in some part of Scotland, when an event occurred which redounded very much to his credit.

      It was the custom then for rich men to have various kinds of sports at Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide, and they used to keep a number of wild beasts in enclosures, which were led forth at these seasons, that the noble youths assembled might try their strength against them.

      It was Christmas time when Hereward arrived "beyond Northumberland." He had passed some joyous days hunting in the wintry forests, and had become a great favourite with the company, because he excelled in all manly sports, and could charm the ladies besides by singing sweetly, and playing on the harp, in the long winter evenings. But when he looked at the wild beasts in their cages, he only saw one that he thought he should like to fight with, and that was a huge white bear, which was known to be exceedingly fierce. And beyond this it was said that its parent was the famed Norwegian bear, which lived far away in the pine woods of the north, and, according to the fable believed in at the time, was endowed with human sense, and could understand human speech.

      Now it happened one day that the white bear broke the bars of its enclosure, and rushed out, killing and tearing to pieces all the animals that came in its path. This must have been very alarming, and worse still, it was making its way towards a room, opening out of the court where the women and children belonging to the house had taken refuge, and some knights in their terror had followed them, instead of trying to drive back the fierce creature with their lances. Hereward had just come in from hunting, and saw at a glance what had happened; he went straight up to the bear, and thrusting his sword through its head, he laid it dead on the ground.

      His praises after this were sung far and wide; but amidst all the joy there was a secret plot made to destroy him by some of the knights who had shown themselves to be cowards, and were jealous of the bold deed he had performed. So one day they concealed themselves in the wood and tried to kill him as he came slowly along the mossy paths followed by his servant Martin. The story tells how Hereward slew two of these knights in self-defence, and another crept away, or was carried wounded to the house. Soon after this he bade Gilbert of Ghent farewell; he said that he could not live happily where there were traitors, but those who loved him were grieved when he rode away, and the women shed many tears, remembering how he had saved them with his strong right arm from a cruel death.

      From Scotland he went to Cornwall, and there we are told he performed some brave deeds, and rescued a Cornish princess by slaying in combat a fierce and cruel Pict, a giant in height, whom her father had commanded her to marry against