When this was said, and when the keen eye of Hereward had made survey of the whole field, he and his sword-bearer, and all his matchless band, who had been trained to war in a hundred fights and surprises, rushed towards the spot where floated the proud banner of Duke William. They were soon upon that prime of the Norman army; and then was seen how the Lord of Brunn and his Saxons true bore them in the brunt of war. Thunder the battle-axes; gride the heavy swords! Broad shields are shivered, and the Norman left arms that bore them are lopped off like hazel twigs; helms are broken, and corslets reft in twain; and still this true Saxon band shouted, “Holy rood! holy rood! Out! out! Get ye out, Normans! Hereward for England! Saxons, remember Hastings!” Stout young Raoul of Caen, the page that carried the arms and the shield (_arma ac scuta_) of the Duke, was slain by Hereward’s sword-bearer; and where Raoul met his untimely death, other Normans perished or bled. Duke William shouted, “Notre Dame! Notre Dame! Dieu aide! Dieu aide!” but was forced to give ground, and the Duke retreated beyond the earth-raised mound or great embankment which girded the Camp on that side. “The patrimony of Saint Etheldreda is not easy to conquer! We have beaten off the two brothers!” Thus spoke Elfric. “So far is well,” quoth Hereward! “but what is this I see and hear? What are those cravens doing in the centre of the Camp? By the Lord of Hosts, some of them be throwing down their weapons, and crying for quarter! Wipe the blood from out thine eyes, Elfric; keep close to my side, and come on, brave men all!” And away from the earth-raised mound, over which he had driven the Norman Duke, went the Lord of Brunn with his warrior band; and then was the fight renewed in the midst of the Camp, where some of the disheartened Saxons were using all the French they knew in crying, “Misericorde! misericorde! Grace! grace!”