^/<k, 
 
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THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
Constable's 
 OLibi'ais ot Ibistotical Bovels ati& IRomanccs 
 
 EDITED BY GEORGE LAURENCE GOMME 
 
 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
Iimmiam I. 
 
 THE 
 
 CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 BY CHARLES MACFARLANE 
 
 EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION 
 
 AND NOTES BY 
 GEORGE LAURENCE GOMME 
 
 THa c s t m i n s t e r 
 ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. 
 
 1897 
 
\ 
 
 
 Edinburgh . T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Maiet.ty 
 
PREFACE 
 
 England does not possess a national epic and but few 
 national traditions. But its literature is enriched by 
 romances, dramatic and narrative, founded on the 
 events of almost all epochs in the national history. 
 The quality of these romances varies, of course, but 
 some of them are of classical value, many ai'e far above 
 the average of fiction, and nearly all are of interest and 
 value to the literary history of the country. 
 
 It is proposed to reproduce such of these romances 
 as are available and suitable for the purpose, in a 
 uniform series, arranged under the reigns of the 
 sovereigns to which they belong. 
 
 The value which this series must possess for 
 educational purposes has influenced to a very con- 
 siderable extent the plan adopted by the editor for 
 presenting each volume to the public. The well- 
 known attraction of a good historical novel to the 
 young will be made use of to direct attention to 
 the real history of the period of which each story 
 was intended by its author to be a representation. 
 To refer the reader to the genuine authorities of the 
 period ; to give as far as possible a short account of the 
 
ii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 period, and of the characters introduced ; to present 
 illustrations of costumes, buildings, and facsimiles of 
 signatures ; and to give examples of the language of 
 the period, is not only to introduce young students to 
 these books as interesting examples of English litera- 
 ture and phases of English literary history, but to 
 bring home to them, in connection with pleasant 
 associations, most of the really important events in 
 English history. Every reign, practically, will be 
 represented by at least one stoiy and sometimes by 
 more than one, and in this way the series will 
 gradually take the reader through the entire annals 
 of English history. 
 
 Many works of established reputation, together 
 with others not so well known to the modern reader 
 as they deserve to be, will thus appear in a new light 
 and with new surroundings, among the most distin- 
 guished of the authors being Scott, Thackeray, 
 Kingsley, Lytton, Leigh Hunt, Daniel Defoe, John 
 Gait, Oliver Goldsmith, Charles Dickens, Lord 
 Beaconsfield, Ainsworth, and others. 
 
 The first volumes of the series cover the period of 
 the Norman Conquest, namely. Lord Lytton's Harold, 
 the Last of the Saxons (1848), and the present volume. 
 
 The issue will not be in chronological order, but 
 will rather aim at dealing with the different reigns in 
 accordance with the interest of the subject matter 
 treated of by the author of the representative story. 
 Gradually, however, the several reigns will be filled up ; 
 and while the unity of the series will not therefore be 
 affected, the interest of readers will be quickened by 
 
PREFACE iii 
 
 tlieir attention not being confined to a strictly chrono- 
 logical order of events. For educational purposes, too, 
 it is desirable that books relating to different periods 
 should be available as early as possible. 
 
 Having treated of the greatest event in English 
 history in the two first volumes of the series, namely, 
 the Norman Conquest, the next volume to be issued 
 will refer to a scarcely less important event, namely, 
 the attempted Spanish Conquest of England in the 
 reign of one of our greatest sovereigns, Elizabeth. 
 This volume is, of course, Charles Kingsley's Westward 
 Ho! 
 
 The editor has received many letters of suggestion 
 and encouragement, and will always be thankful for 
 communications on books belonging to the series. 
 
 G. L. GOMME. 
 
 24 Dorset Square, N.W. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION ........ ix 
 
 GLOSSARY AND NOTES ...... Ixviii 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. THE MESSENGER ...... I 
 
 II. THE SrCCURSAL CELL . . . . . 1 5 
 
 III. THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY .... 34 
 
 I\'. THE MONKS OF EI,Y FEAST .... 48 
 
 V. THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL. . , 64 
 
 VI. IV'O TAILLE-BOIS AND THE LADIE LUCIA . . 8 1 
 
 VII. HEREWARd's RETURN ..... 90 
 
 VIII. LORD HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN . . I03 
 IX. ELFRIC THE EX-NOVICE, AND GIROLAMO OF 
 
 SALERNO, PREPARE TO PLAY AT DEVILS . 1 26 
 
 X. THE HOUSE AT CROWLAND . . . -133 
 
 XI. THE LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE . 1 50 
 
 XII. THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE . . 1 63 
 
 XIII. HOW LORD HEREWARD AND HIS LADIE LIVED AT EY 1 78 
 
 XIV. HEREWARD IS MADE KNIGHT . . . . I89 
 
 XV. THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE AND A BATTLE . 204 
 
 XVI. THE TRAITOROUS MONKS OF PETERBOROUGH . 21 5 
 
 XVII. HEREWARD GOES TO BRUNN, AND IS DISTURBED 
 
 THERE ....... 228 
 
vi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVIIl. THE DANES AND THEIR KINg's SON . . 247 
 
 XIX. THE NORMAN WITCH . . . . .271 
 
 XX. THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN . . . 282 
 
 XXI. THE MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT . 296 
 
 XXII. HEREWARD BRINGS CORN AND WINE TO ELY . 319 
 
 XXIII. A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON . . 345 
 
 XXIV. THE DUNGEON ...... 367 
 
 X.XV. THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP . . • .381 
 
 XXVI. A FIRE AND A RESCUE ..... 397 
 
 XXVII. HEREWARD STILL FIGHTS .... 407 
 
 XXVIII. THE HAPPY END . . . . . .41$ 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACE PAGE 
 
 ANGLO-SAXON 5IINSTRELS (Cottonictn 3ISS.) . . xxi 
 
 ANGLO-SAXON SIINSTRELS AND GLEEBIEN {CottOYlian 
 
 MSS.) xxiii 
 
 ANGLO-SAXON PRINKING AND MINSTRELSY {Harhiail 
 
 MSS. No. 603) xxiv 
 
 A N0R.MAN CAROUSAL {Bdyeux Tapcstry) . . xxvi 
 
 S. GUTHLAC'S CROSS ...... XXXV 
 
 SITE OF HEREWARd's CASTLE .... XXXvii 
 
 MAP SHOWING THE ROUTE BY WHICH WILLIAM I. 
 
 APPROACHED ELY xlvii 
 
 HEREWARd's MOUND AT ELY, SUPPOSED TO BE THE SITE 
 
 OF THE LAST STAND ..... xlix 
 
 A MAPP OF THE GREAT LEVELL (pROM DUGDALe's Hisfori/ 
 
 q/ Imhanking) ...... Hii 
 
 MAP OF THE DISTRICT, FROM THE ORDNANCE SURVEY liv 
 
 KENNEPh' S BOUNDARY — STONE IN WELLAND WASH . Ivi 
 
 THORNEY ABBEY CHURCH ..... Ivii 
 
 SECTION OF CANOE FOUND NEAR LYNN {CuDlhndgi' Allti- 
 
 qnnrian Society, vol. iv.) . . . . Iviii 
 
 CROWLAND ABBEY CHURCH . . . . • 
 
 vii 
 
 lix 
 
viii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 FACE PAGE 
 CASTLE MOUND AT CAMBRIDGE .... Ix 
 
 PRECINCT OF THE PRIORY OF SPALDING (fROM DVGDALe's 
 
 Monasticon) ...... Ixi 
 
 CASTLE MOUND AT CAMBRIDGE .... Ixi 
 
 ECCLESIASTICAL SCULPTUItES SHOWING COSTUME IN SAXON 
 
 TIMES ....... Ixii 
 
 ANGLO-SAXON HOUSE {Hurlciau MSS. No. HO-')) . Ixiv 
 
 SILVER PENNY OF WILLIAM I. . . . . Ixvii 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 The point in the romance of English history which 
 was reached in Lord Lytton's Harold was the defeat 
 of the West Saxon army at Hastings, resulting in 
 the death of the last of the Saxon Kings and the 
 triumph of William Duke of the Normans, henceforth 
 to be known as King of the English. The next stage 
 in English fiction is only four years forward, and 
 belongs practically to the same cycle of events. Two 
 books have been devoted to these events : one is 
 Charles Kingsley's Heretvard the Wake, and the other 
 is Macfarlane's Camp of Refuge. It is not possible to 
 include Kingsley's fine romance in the present series, 
 but in adopting Macfarlane's book for the purpose it 
 will be found that ample justice is done to the fictional 
 representation of the struggle of the English against 
 the Norman. 
 
 The hero of that struggle was Hereward, a name 
 which has become absorbed into English historical 
 romance as typical of some of the best qualities of the 
 English character. 
 
 If Harold, last of the Saxon kings, is the foremost 
 English hero of the Norman Conquest, Hereward, un- 
 crowned and almost unknown, assuredly stands next. 
 Gurth and Leofwine Godwinsson, as great perhaps as 
 
 h 
 
X THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Harold, are overshadowed by their brother ; Edwin 
 and Morcar are overshadowed by tlieir own acts ; 
 Waltheof was the hero of one desperate fight^ and was 
 then cruelly murdered ; Siward Barn, Leofric of Peter- 
 borough, Godric of Berkshire, heroes all, were not 
 heroes of the people ; while all other of the Saxons 
 are the unnamed heroes of a conquered nation. It is 
 not, however, the lessening of the fame of others 
 which causes the fame of Hereward to rise. His is 
 true fame. It was won in a desperate and, as it turned 
 out, a hopeless cause ; it was won in the cause of his 
 countrymen, and it was voiced from the hearts of those 
 who loved the cause. Whatever view be taken of 
 Hereward as an historical character, the plain fact 
 remains that after Harold had died in defending his 
 country from the last foreign invader who has landed 
 on her shores, Hereward alone of all who remained to 
 fight was staunch and faithful, was unselfish and un- 
 blemished, Hereward alone was able to make a stand 
 and teach William that England was not entirely won 
 even by such a victory as Hastings. 
 
 The events in which Hereward was the chief actor 
 are fairly well recorded in history, but the personality 
 of Hereward himself is a matter of much doubt, in 
 which different historians have taken different views. 
 
 Harold, marching from Stamfordbridge in the north, 
 placed himself across William's path at Hastings. 
 William, marching over the dead bodies of the defenders 
 to begin the conquest of the country then laid open to 
 his attack, had to meet local insurrections at Exeter, 
 at York, in the north and elsewhere, the only effective 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 stand being made at Ely under the leadership of Here- 
 ward in 1070, four years after Hastings. Who then 
 was this Hereward, able to withstand the conqueror of 
 Harold, who had previously shown himself the greatest 
 of soldiers by conquering the foremost captain of his 
 age at Starafordbridge ? Clearly, this last of the 
 English, as Kingsley unhappily calls him, was a great 
 soldier if only by comparison of the success he gained 
 with the failure of those who had preceded him in 
 the fight. But he is known to history only in his 
 capacity as leader in the defence of Ely against William, 
 and there is not much recorded of him. Where history 
 has failed, however, legend and song have been busy, 
 and the difficulty is to separate what is true in the 
 legendary account in order to add it to the meagre 
 account of history. It is necessary to attempt this 
 task, however, before proceeding to the actual events 
 which are the ground-work of Macfarlane's story. 
 There are difficulties and contradictions and myth to 
 contend with in the legendaiy accounts, but they are 
 undoubtedly the traditions of the people concerning a 
 hero who has forced his name into English history, and 
 of whom those who related the traditions were proud. 
 The historical authorities who record facts about 
 Hereward are : — 
 
 Domesday (edited by Sir H. Ellis). 
 
 Anglo-Saxo7i Chronicle (in Rolls Series of Chronicles). 
 
 Florence of Worcester (in English Historical Society 
 Series, 2 vols.). 
 
 Henry of Huntingdon (in 'Anglicarum rerum Scrip- 
 tores ' by Savile). 
 
xii THE CAMPOF REFUGE 
 
 Simeon of Durham (in ' Anglicanae Historiae Scrip- 
 tores ' by Twysden). 
 Hugo Candidiis (in Sparke's ' Historiae Anglicanae 
 Scriptores'). 
 And the legendary authorities are : 
 
 Gahnar Estorie des Engles (in Caxton Society's 
 
 Series). 
 GestaHereivardi Sa.ronis (in Caxton Society's Series). 
 higulf Historia Croylandensis (in Gale's ' Rerum 
 
 Anglicarum Scriptores/ vol. i.). 
 Historia Eliensis (edited by D. J. Stewart, 1848). 
 My first point will be to ascertain how history and 
 legend respectively deal with the pre-heroic times of 
 Hereward's career — that is to say, his life before the 
 defence of Ely. 
 
 If we begin with Domesday we find two classes of 
 entries, distinguished from each other in an important 
 particular, relating to a Hereward (namely Hereuuard) 
 having lands in Lincolnshire in the time of King 
 Edward and not at the formation of the survey, and 
 Hereuuard having lands in Warwickshire in the time of 
 King Edward and also at the formation of the survey, 
 when he also held lands in Worcestershii-e. Moreover, 
 there is another important distinction in these entries. 
 The Warwickshire Hereward held his lands prin- 
 cipally of the Earl of Mellent, but it is recorded that 
 in the time of King Edward he held them as a free- 
 man. The Lincolnshire Hereward has no such dis- 
 tinction stated of him, for he held his land of the 
 Abbot of Peterborough, or of the Abbot of Crowland. 
 These distinctions raise the presumption that the 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 entries relate to different persons, a presumption which 
 Mr. Freeman hints at (Hist. Nor7ti. Conq. iv. 826), and 
 Mr. Round concludes to be a fact (Feudal England, -p. l62). 
 If this be so we may dismiss the Warwickshire and 
 Worcestershire Hereward, and turn to the entries 
 relating to the Lincolnshire Hereward. He held of 
 the Abbot of Peterborough at Witham and Manthorp 
 and Toft with I.ound, 12 bovates of land. This hold- 
 ing was his patrimony, but besides this entry there are 
 two others which occur in the Clamores de Cketsteven 
 (torn. 1. fol. 376 b.) : ' Terram Asford in Bercham hund. 
 dicit Wapentak non habuisse Herewardura die qua 
 aufugiit/ and on folio 377, ' Terram S. Guthlaci quam 
 tenet Ogerus in Repinghale dicunt fuisse dominicam 
 firmam monachorum. VIchel abbatem commendasse 
 earn ad firmam Hereuuardo, sicut inter eos conueniret 
 unoquoque anno, sed abbas resaisiuit eam antequam 
 Hereuuardus de patria fugeret, eo quod conuentionem 
 non tenuisset.' 
 
 The latter of these entries takes us back to the days 
 before the Conquest. It relates that the lands of 
 S. Guthlac (i.e. Crowland Abbey) in Ripinghale had 
 been let out to Hereward by Abbot Ulfcytel on terms 
 to be agreed upon between themselves; but as Here- 
 ward did not keep his agreement, Ulfcytel took the 
 land back into his own hands. Now Abbot Ulfcytel 
 was not appointed until 1062, and so tliis event cannot 
 have happened until after that date. This gives only 
 four years to the battle of Hastings, and eight to the 
 chief events in the defence of Ely which have 
 made Hereward's name famous. Professor Tout in his 
 
xiv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 intei'esting account of Hereward in the Dldiofiari/ of 
 National Biography suggests that ' tlie unruly character 
 of Hereward is borne out both by this' and by the 
 other passage in the survey. But this point appears 
 to me at least doubtful^ and would probably not have 
 occurred to his biographer had not the Hereward which 
 Kingsley has depicted for us gi'own into the ideal of 
 Hereward in modern times. 
 
 The other entry is more important, for it bears upon 
 the story of Hereward's banishment from England, 
 which is stated in the Gesla Herewardi to have taken 
 place when he was eighteen years old. Kingsley 
 makes the most of this episode, and introduces into his 
 story the romantic adventures attributed to Hereward 
 in Northumberland, Ireland, and Cornwall, and then in 
 Flanders. But Macfarlane, in the only passage Avhere 
 he could have introduced it, namely, in the account of 
 Hereward put into the mouth of Father Adhelm (see 
 pp. 68-70), not only ignores it but makes Hereward fight 
 by the side of Harold in Wales, at Stamfordbridge, and 
 at Hastings. There is no historical evidence for this, 
 but on the other hand the silence of all the Chronicles 
 as to the names of the English heroes at Hastings 
 would allow us to think that Hereward might have 
 been there, if only we can get over one or two points 
 in the more or less legendary history. And this I 
 think can be done. The event, or alleged event, which 
 it is clearly necessary to meet, is the outlawry of Here- 
 ward for his unruly conduct when he was a youth of 
 eighteen. We have only legend for it, except for the 
 very curious reference to his flight in the fii'st of the 
 
INTRODUCTION xv 
 
 two entries above quoted from Domesday. Now this 
 reference^ ' die qua aufugiit,' must in the absence of 
 evidence to the contrary, as Mr, Round points out, be 
 referred to Hereward's escape from the isle of Ely 
 when, in 1071, in the words of Florence, ' cum paucis 
 evasit.' This too, adds Mr. Round, would at once 
 explain the Domesday entry as to Asford, ' for he 
 would of course have forfeited his holding before that 
 date' (Feudal Eiiglcuid, Y>. l62). This explanation not 
 only accounts for the single historical reference to 
 Hereward having been at any time a fugitive, but, in 
 fixing the date to be after his exploits at Ely, disposes 
 of any probability in the legendary theory that he was 
 a fugitive before the battle of Hastings. 
 
 Now here, then, we have a position which distinctly 
 gives a clue to the probable course of events. They 
 may be summed up as follows : — 
 
 1. That Hereward was a young man, being by 
 
 tradition only eighteen, when his career 
 began to interest his countrymen. 
 
 2. That he was in England after 1062. 
 
 3. That suddenly, without preliminary note, his 
 
 name appears in English history as success- 
 fully withstanding William's conquest of 
 England. 
 
 4. That popular tradition has, in order to supply 
 
 him with heroic [adventures, banished him to 
 
 other lands before he took part in the defence 
 
 of Ely. 
 
 If the three first of these propositions may be 
 
 accepted, the fourth is the only one that needs 
 
xvi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 correction in order to fit it in with the historical 
 evidence. What, then, was the foundation for it ? 
 Before going to Ely Hereward must have had experi- 
 ence and knowledge of war, otherwise he would not 
 have been chosen leader when Morcar and other more 
 illustrious men were there. This much is perfectly 
 certain, for men like Morcar do not readily give up 
 the position of leader, and this much therefore of the 
 popular tradition may be accepted. Now Macfarlane's 
 suggestion in the story is that he won this experience 
 and knowledge at Stamfordbridge and Hastings. This 
 seems at least a possible solution, for it is remarkable 
 that all the historical facts fit in with it, at least so far 
 as Hastings is concerned. This is a very interesting 
 point, and I will show how it is arrived at. There is 
 first the important fact that of the English shires which 
 sent men to fight at Hastings, Lincolnshire is one (see 
 the list of shii'es in Wace's Chi-onicle and Mr. Freeman's 
 note in Hist. Norm. Conq. iii. 425) ; while of the few 
 English names preserved from that fight, one is no less 
 a person than Leofric the Abbot of Peterborough, who 
 came back to his home sick and wounded, "^and waes 
 daed sone thaera?fter' (Chi-on. Peterborough, 1066). 
 
 But Hereward was, according to the authority of 
 Hugh Candidus (for the first time pointed out by Mr. 
 Round, Feudal England, p. l6l), a 'man' of the Abbot 
 of Peterborough, that is to say, a tenant bound to per- 
 form military service for his lord. That Hereward, 
 of all the abbot's tenants, should have followed his 
 lord to Hastings is more than likely — the strange thing 
 would be that he should not have done so ; that, going 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 thither nameless among the many, he should gain ex- 
 perience under the genius of Harold, though no fame 
 has come to him through the historians from a field 
 where Saxon fame was buried ; that his own genius 
 should make him use his experience when need arose ; 
 that among the English all survivors from that fatal 
 field who were still unwilling to bow the knee to 
 William would be reckoned as heroes ; that on this 
 account alone he would be given rank above Morcar, 
 who had weakly, if not traitorously, kept away ; — are 
 conclusions not drawn from the recorded facts of 
 history, only because history has recorded no facts 
 about any one Avho fought at Hastings. That they are 
 not out of harmony with the few records of the 
 nameless Hereward, who in 1070 was to plant his 
 name for ever high among the heroes of English tradi- 
 tion, seems to me to warrant much for their accept- 
 ance as the probable truth. 
 
 It seems, then, that although the historical Herewai'd 
 is not so well known as most of us would like, the 
 Iiistory that is known fixes upon him as a Lincoln- 
 shire land -holder, who was in England within four 
 years of Hastings and a fugitive at the time of the 
 compilation of Domesday ; who by the terms of his 
 holding ought to have followed his lord to Hastings, 
 when that lord — one of the few English heroes who 
 are known by name, Leofric, Abbot of Peterborough 
 — rode forth to take his part, and only came back 
 to die ; who by right of his own individuality was 
 chosen leader of the fenland patriots, and who de- 
 fended the last shelter of English freedom against 
 
xviii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the might of WilHam. ' His heart failed him not 
 when the hearts of the noblest of the land quaked 
 within them. Our most patriotic Latin annalist adorns 
 his name with the standing epithet with which he 
 adorns the name of Harold, vir strenu'tssimus, and our 
 native chronicler records his deeds in words which 
 seem borowed from the earlier record of the deeds of 
 iElfred ' (Freeman, Hist. Norm. Conq. iv. 455). I 
 always think there is one undoubted fact on record 
 which illumines the defence of Ely and makes it 
 assume more of a national than a local character^ — - 
 makes it certain that Hereward was a leader whom 
 all Englishmen had learned to trust. This event is 
 the effort of a small band of the men of Berkshire, 
 tenants of the Abbey of Abingdon, to join the new 
 champions of England. Their line of march lay 
 right across the country, and they were surprised 
 by a body of Normans, surrounded, and either 
 killed or captured (Freeman, Hist. Norm. Conq. iv. 
 467). And let it be noted in connection with what 
 has already been suggested about Hereward' s fame 
 having been gained at Hastings, that Godric, the 
 Sheriff of Berkshire, was one of the few heroes of 
 Hastings whom we know by name, and that for a man 
 to have been a thegn of Berkshire seems at that time 
 to have implied almost as a matter of course that he 
 had died at Hastings {ibid. S3). For the sons and 
 companions of such men as these to flock to Hereward 
 is an indirect testimony, of no little weight, to the 
 other indirect testimony of Hereward's fame as a hero 
 of that fight. 
 
INTRODUCTION xix 
 
 Intervening, however, between our own times and 
 the actual Hereward as made known by history and by 
 such conchisions as histoiy allows us to draw, there is 
 a mass of legend and tradition which, after the nature 
 of legend and tradition, has accumulated itself round 
 the name and deeds of the hero. So far as this legend 
 and tradition deals with the period when Hereward 
 was at Ely, it is difficult to sejiarate it from real 
 history ; but so far as it deals with his earlier life, 
 before the defence of Ely, it may be considered apart 
 from the few facts which we have already seen are 
 due to historical evidence. 
 
 This consideration is all the more necessary because 
 Kingsley's superior genius as a romance writer has re- 
 stamped these early adventures upon the minds of the 
 people, and is apt therefore to influence judgment as 
 to the merit of Macfarlane's work. At a later stage 
 the literary merits of the two books will be touched 
 upon ; all that I am anxious to make clear now are the 
 historical merits of Macfarlane's story. If we cannot 
 positively affirm that Hereward was at Hastings, there 
 is nothing in history to oppose the theory, and there 
 is much to support it. The only opposition to it 
 comes not from history but from tradition. 
 
 Of the element of popular tradition there can be no 
 doubt. Mr. Round gives the sanction of his great 
 authority to the importance of the false historian of 
 Crowland Abbey (Ingulph) incidentally stating that 
 the daring deeds of Hereward ' adhuc in triviis canun- 
 tur,' as an allusion 'to a ballad history surviving, it 
 may be, so late as the days when the forgery was 
 
XX THE CAMPOF REFUGE 
 
 compiled' {Feudal England, p. l66). The Gesta and 
 Gaimar's Estorie are evidences of the existence of 
 popular accounts of the hero which have been taken 
 up into historical or would-be histoi-ical chronicles, 
 namely, Ingulph and the Historia Eliensis. 
 
 The Liber Eliensis (cap. 102-107) gives only Here- 
 ward's doings in the isle of Ely, and says nothing of 
 his other adventures, of his wife, of his death, nor 
 of his doings after his firing of the siege works of 
 William. There is a good deal of the language in 
 the Liber Eliensis (cc. 104-106") common also to the 
 Gesta, especially in chapter 106. 
 
 In Geffrei Gaimar's L'Estorie des Engles (vv, 5457- 
 5710) there is nothing before the uprising in the fens. 
 It describes him as a ' noble man, one of the best of 
 the country ' ; it tells of the fortifying of the isle, of 
 Hereward's firing of William's bridge, of his plunder- 
 ing of Peterborough. It seems further to imply that 
 he married Alftruda, no mention being made of 
 Turfrida ; and it gives at considerable length (5615- 
 5700) an account of his murder by certain Norman 
 knights. It mentions (5609) that he had taken part 
 in an expedition of King W'illiam into Maine. 
 
 Mr. Searle has devoted a separate volume of the 
 Cambridge Antiquarian Society's publications to a 
 study of Ingulf and the Historia Croylandensis , and his 
 summaries are very valuable. Ingulf begins with Here- 
 wai'd's pedigree (of which more hei'eafter), his youth, 
 and his exile about 1062 ; his journey to Northumbria, 
 Cornwall, and Ireland, and his exploits in Flanders ; 
 tells of his marriage with Turfrida, her becoming a 
 
AX(;I,(»-SA X( I X M I N8TU ELS 
 
 (Cot tonkin il/,s>'.) 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 nun, the attack upon Petei'borough, capture of Torold ; 
 and concludes the story of his life that he ended it 
 in peace and was buried at Croyland by the side of his 
 wife, nothing being said of a second wife, or of Alftruda. 
 This leaves us with the principal legendary account, 
 the Gesta Hereivai-di Saxonis, contained in a Latin ms. 
 of the twelfth century, printed by Mr. T. Wright in a 
 volume of the publications of the Caxton Society 
 published in 1850. Mr. Wright has also published a 
 sort of free translation of this ms. in the second volume 
 of his Essays on the Middle Ages, from which the 
 following account is chiefly abridged. The second 
 chapter commences a retrospective account of Here- 
 ward, the first chapter having related his landing at 
 Bourne in 1068. This account makes Hereward the 
 son of Leofric, Earl of Chester and Mercia, and of 
 his wife Mdiva., the famous Lady Godiva of the 
 Coventry legend. As he grew up, his adventurous 
 disposition gave rise to continual feuds and tumults, 
 which drew upon him the enmity of his family. He 
 collected some of his father's rents to distribute amonsr 
 his wild followers, and his kinsmen were often obliged 
 to rescue him from some imminent danger. His father 
 at last obtained from King Edward an order of banish- 
 ment, and he was driven from home with only one 
 attendant, Martin with the Light Foot (cum solo servo, 
 Martino, cui cognomen erat Levipes). From this time 
 he was known as Hereward the Exile (Herewardus 
 Exul). The third chapter relates that he first 
 journeyed to the borders of Scotland, where he was 
 received into the household of his godfather, Gisebritus 
 
xxii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 de Gant. Gisebert kept a number of wild beasts of 
 various kinds, which at the festivities of Easter, Whit- 
 suntide, and Christmas he let out, to try the strength 
 and courage of the youths who were candidates for the 
 honour of knighthood (qui militare cingulum expec- 
 tabant et arma). Among the rest, he had a large 
 Norwegian bear which escaped, slew every person it 
 met, and spread terror through the castle. Hereward 
 rushed forth to meet it, and after a desperate struggle 
 succeeded in destroying it. By this action he secured 
 the favour of the ladies (et mulieres ac puellae de eo 
 in choi-is canebant), but the envy of his companions. 
 After having escaped a plot laid against his life, he 
 left the castle, and proceeded to the extreme part of 
 Cornwall, which was then governed by an independent 
 British chief named Alef, who had a beautiful daughter, 
 who appears by the sequel to have bestowed her 
 affections upon an Irish prince. Her father, more 
 from fear than inclination, had promised her hand to 
 Ulcus Ferreus, one of her countrymen, a popular man 
 among the Cornishmen for his strength and valour. 
 Hereward soon became an object of hatred to him, 
 which broke out in a quarrel resulting in a victory for 
 Hereward. The Cornishmen, enraged at the loss of 
 their champion, called for vengeance, and Alef, under 
 pretence of throwing him into prison, shielded him. 
 He escaped with the lady's aid to the Irish prince, 
 and to the king his father. 
 
 Soon after Hereward's ai-rival in Ireland, he was 
 joined by two of his kinsmen, named Siward the White 
 and Siward the Red (Siwardo albo et Siwardo rufo), 
 
ANGLO-SAXON MINSTREIiS AND GLEEMEN 
 
 (Cottunian MSS.) 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiii 
 
 who brought him intelligence of his father's death, and 
 urged him to return home. But he remained to assist 
 the king, at whose court he was living, in a war agahist 
 another Irish king. Meanwhile the Cornish princess 
 was betrothed to another suitor, and she sent a 
 messenger to the Irish prince, to beg his assistance 
 in averting it. He, with Here ward, was engaged in a 
 descent on the coast of Cornwall, and immediately sent 
 forty of his soldiers as messengers to claim the lady's 
 hand in fulfilment of a former promise of her father. 
 Hereward, doubting the result, disguised himself, and 
 with three of his companions arrived on the day of the 
 nuptial feast, and learned that the Irish messengers had 
 been thrown into prison, and that the intended bride- 
 groom was to carry home his wife on the following day. 
 He entered the hall with his companions, and they 
 seated themselves at the lowest end of the table. The 
 princess^ thinking she recognised Hereward^ ordered 
 him to be served. Hereward affected rudeness, which 
 excited her suspicions. It was the custom at this time 
 in Cornwall that, after dinner on the day before she 
 left her father's house, the lady in her bridal robes 
 should assist her maidens in serving round the cup to 
 the guests, while a harper went before and played to 
 each as the cup was offered to him. (Sponsa namque 
 post prandium regalibus ornata indumentis, sicut mos 
 provinciae est, cum puellis potum convivis et conservis 
 patris et matris in extrema die a paterna domo disced ens 
 ministratura processit, quodam praecedente cum cithara 
 et unicuique citharizante cum poculo.) Hereward, in 
 fulfilment of a vow, refused to accept anything except 
 
xxiv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 at the hands of the princess herself, whoj finding out 
 this, took some wine to him herself, and, being sure 
 that it was Hereward, threw a ring to him, and excused 
 his rudeness because he was unacquainted with their 
 customs. The minstrel, however, remained dissatisfied 
 when Hereward seized the harp from his hands and 
 played with skill. He was requested to proceed, and 
 again played, not only accompanied by his own voice, 
 but his companions joined at intervals, 'after the 
 manner of the Saxons.' The princess, to aid him, sent 
 him a rich cloak, the common reward of successful 
 minstrels, and her husband, unwilling to be behindhand 
 in his liberality, offered him any gift he would ask, 
 except his wife and his lands. Herewai-d demanded 
 the release of the Irish messengers w-ho had been 
 imprisoned. The prince Avas at first inclined to grant 
 his request, when one of his followers exclaimed, ' This 
 is one of their base messengers, who is come to spy thy 
 house, and to mock thee by carrying from thee thy 
 enemies in return for his frivolous performances.' 
 The Cornish chief's suspicions were easily aroused, but 
 Hereward, with the aid of the princess, escaped with 
 his companions. When they had left the house, they 
 followed the road along which the Cornish chief and 
 his bride would pass, and concealed themselves on the 
 banks of a river which formed the boundary of his 
 dominions. 
 
 The prince, determining to deprive each of the Irish 
 messengers of their right eye, took them into his 
 own territory. When he came to the river, Hereward 
 and his companions rushed out, slew the prince, re- 
 
ANGLO-SAXON nUINKING AND MINSTRELSY 
 
 (Harkian M,SS. No. 603) 
 
INTRODUCTION xxv 
 
 leased the Irishmen, carried away the princess, 
 and met the Irish prince, who was on his way to 
 avenge the insult offered him in the person of his 
 messengers. Hereward accompanied the Irish prince 
 and his bride to Ireland, and prepared to return 
 with his friends to England. A tempest arose, one of 
 his two ships was lost, and the storm carried the 
 second to the coast of Flanders, and wrecked them in 
 the neighbourhood of S. Bertin, where they were first 
 arrested as spies, but received with hospitality when his 
 name was known, and the Count of Flanders accepted 
 his assistance in the wars in which he was engaged. 
 Hereward's bravery gained him the affections of Tur- 
 frida, whom he married. News then arrived that the 
 Normans had conquered Britain; and, leaving his wife to 
 the care of the two Siwards, he repaired to England. 
 
 In the year IO69, Hereward returned to his native 
 land, bringing with him the two Siwards, and other 
 Saxons who had joined him, and his wife Turfrida. 
 Finding that his estates had remained unoccupied by 
 the Normans, he proceeded direct to Bourne, where 
 some of his bravest kinsmen were waiting for him. He 
 then made a signal by setting fire to three cottages on 
 the highest part of the Brunneswold, whei'e he was soon 
 joined by a gallant band of Saxon outlaws. Amongst 
 those who joined him there were : Leofric the Mower 
 (Lewinus Moue, id est falca), so called because, being 
 once attacked by twenty armed men whilst he was 
 mowing alone in the field, with nothing but his 
 scythe to defend himself, he had defeated them all, 
 killing several and wounding many ; Leofric, named 
 
 c 
 
xxvi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Pratt (Lefwiiius Pratt id est astutus) or the Cunnings 
 because, though often taken by his enemies, he had 
 always found means of escape, often having slain the 
 keepers ; Wulric the Black (Wluncus Niger), so named, 
 because on one occasion he had blackened his face 
 with charcoal, and, thus disguised, had penetrated 
 unobserved among his enemies, and killed ten of them 
 with his spear before he made his retreat; Wulric 
 Hragra, or the Heron (Wluricus Rahen, vel Ardea), 
 who, passing the bridge of Wrexham when four 
 brothers, unjustly condemned to be hanged, were led 
 by that road to the place of execution, had ventured to 
 expostulate with their guards, but the latter called him 
 in mockery a heron, and he rushed upon them, slew 
 several, drove away the rest, and delivered their 
 prisoners. At this time the monks of Ely, with their 
 abbot Thurstan, fortified themselves in their almost 
 inaccessible island among the wild fens. As soon as 
 they heard of Hereward's arrival, they sent to urge him 
 to join his strength with theirs, which he determined 
 to do. 
 
 This is the point in the legendary account where 
 Macfarlane's story may be said to commence, in con- 
 trast to Kingsley's story, which, as may readily be 
 seen, absorbs the whole of these traditions. Looked 
 at closely, these adventures are sufficiently parallel to 
 the events of current mythic legend and of the 
 chivalrous romance of the age to be accounted for as 
 the product of post-Herewardian times. The hero 
 of the people must be clothed with the traditions of 
 the people according to the well-known process of 
 
A NOR5IAN CAROUSAL 
 
 (Bayeux Tapestry) 
 
INTRODUCTION xxvii 
 
 attachment of existing traditions to a popular hero. 
 For instance, there is the curious legend of Hereward 
 pretending to be dead, and so being carried into a 
 castle and slaying the inhabitants — a story well 
 known, as Mr. Freeman reminds us, to comparative 
 mythologists (Hist. Norm. Conq. iv. 82S) — and there are 
 his fight with the bear and his fight with the giant, 
 two more episodes of mythic rather than historic 
 events. But if these adventures can be safely put 
 aside as the work of popular tradition according to 
 laws of human thought quite well understood by all 
 students of folklore, there is not much of moment 
 left, except, indeed, the geography of his supposed 
 travels — a geography which belongs to the very home 
 of tradition, the unknown territories of the Celts, 
 Ireland, Cornwall, and Scotland, and the equally un- 
 known foreign countries. And let me point out that 
 there is ground for attributing to people of the fen dis- 
 trict a considerable fund of traditional lore ready to be 
 adapted to personages who strongly influenced them. 
 Thus there are the legend of the Pedlar of Swaffham, 
 and the story of Tom Hick-a-thrif't. The former is a 
 world-wide myth, and the latter, which has been 
 examined by me in a special edition, is closely con- 
 nected with primitive tradition ; and yet both are 
 attached to the locality of the fens. There are other 
 stories of the peasantry equally interesting from this 
 point of view, and, perhaps, belonging to the Here- 
 ward cycle, as, for instance, the ' Legend of Byard's 
 Leaps' (Arch. Assoc, xxxv. 283). The point need not, 
 however, be laboured. All I am anxious to establish 
 
xxviii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 is, that in giving Hereward an early romantic career, 
 
 popular tradition would easily fit him with its own 
 
 adventures. 
 
 Before dismissing this part of the subject, however, 
 there is also the work of the pedigree-makers to look 
 into. Hereward's holding 'was situated at Witham 
 on the Hill with its hamlets of Manthorpe and Toft 
 with Lound not far from Bourne, and at Barholme 
 with Stow a few miles off, all in the extreme south- 
 west of the country.' Mr. Round, starting from 
 this, goes on to examine (Feiulnl Ejigland, p. l6l) a 
 passage from Hugh Candidus showing how Baldwin 
 Wake possessed the holdings of Hugh de Euremou 
 (the man who, according to Ingulph, married Here- 
 ward's daughter) and of Ansford. Here then, says 
 Mr. Round, 'we see how this legendary name and 
 legendary position of Hereward were evolved. The 
 Wakes, Lords of Bourne, held among their lands, some 
 not far from Bourne, which had once been held by 
 Hereward. Thus arose the story that Hereward had 
 been Lord of Bourne ; and it was but a step further 
 to connect him doubly with the Wakes, by giving him 
 a daughter and heir married to Hugh de Euremou, 
 whose lands had been similarly passed to the Lords 
 of Bourne. The pedigree-makers' crowning stroke 
 was to make Hereward himself a Wake' (p. l6l). 
 
 This name of Wake, so generally given to Hereward 
 by modern writers, is first mentioned by John of Peter- 
 borough, a writer of uncertain date and personality. 
 Under date IO69 occurs the passage, 'Obiit Brando 
 Abbas Burgi, patruus dicti Herewardi le Wake, cui 
 
INTRODUCTION xxix 
 
 ex Regis collatione successit Turoldus/ and again, 
 under 107 1^ he is called ' Herewardus le Wake.' 
 
 But the legendary account, as we have seen {ante, 
 p. xxi.), also makes him a son of Leofric, Earl of Mercia, 
 and of the famous countess the Lady Godiva — in other 
 words, a brother of Alfgar and uncle of Edwin and 
 Morcar. Mr. Kingsley defends this pedigree, in the 
 introductory chapter of his story, on historical grounds. 
 Sir Henry Ellis also lent his authority to this parentage 
 (Introd. to Domesday, ii. 146). But it comes only from 
 a genealogical roll of the fifteenth century, and Mr. 
 Freeman has sufficiently exposed the worthlessness 
 of this testimony {Hist. Norm. Conq. iv. 830). In the 
 meantime, there is to note that Here ward being ' a 
 man ' of Leofric, Abbot of Peterborough, is perhaps 
 a sufficient datum from which to start the idea that 
 he was son of a Leofric, and then, at the last stage, 
 that he was son of the Leofric. 
 
 I will now deal with the events from the commenc- 
 ing point of Macfarlane's story. It opens in the spring 
 of 1070, when the rising began by the English folk 
 joining the Danish fleet and attempting thereby to 
 throw off the Norman yoke. The prospect of being 
 ousted from his Peterborough lands by a follower of 
 the new French abbot would, as Mr. Round says, 
 have added a personal zest to Hereward's patriotic 
 zeal ; but whatever the personal interest, the zeal was 
 undoubtedly there, and it broke out at the time when 
 the Norman monk Turold or Thorold was marching at 
 the head of an armed body of Frenchmen to take 
 possession of his monastery. 
 
XXX THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 This event is told by an unimpeachable authority, 
 the Anglo-Saxo7i Chronicle; and as it is one of the few 
 undoubted historical facts recorded of Hereward, I 
 shall quote this passage in full : 
 
 'Then, in the same year (1070) came Svein, king of 
 Denmark, into the H umber, and the country people 
 came to meet him, and made peace with him, weening 
 that he would overrun the land. Then came to Ely 
 Christian, the Danish bishop, and Asbiorn jarl, and 
 the Danish " huscarls " with them ; and the English 
 folk from all the fenlands came to them, weening that 
 they would win all the land. Then the monks of Peter- 
 borough heard say that their own men would plunder 
 the monastery, that was Hereward and his company. 
 That was because they had heard say that the king 
 had given the abbacy to a French abbot named Turold, 
 and that he was a very stern man, and was then come 
 to Stamford with all his Frenchmen. There was then 
 a church-ward there named Yware, who took by might 
 all that he could ; that was, gospels, mass-mantles, 
 cantor-copes, and robes, and such little things, what- 
 ever he could ; and went forthwith, ere day, to the 
 Abbot Turold, and told him that he sought his protec- 
 tion, and informed him how the outlaws were to come 
 to Peterborough, and that he did all by the advice of 
 the monks. Then soon on the morrow all the outlaws 
 came with many ships and would enter the monastery, 
 and the monks withstood so that they could not come 
 in. They then set it on fire and burned all the 
 monks' houses and all the town save one house. 
 They then came in through fire, in at Bolhithe gate, 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxi 
 
 and the monks came to meet them, praying for peace. 
 But they recked of nothing, went into the monastery, 
 clomb up to the holy rood, then took the crown from 
 our Lord's head, all of beaten gold ; then took the 
 "foot-spur" that was underneath his foot, which was 
 all of red gold. They clomb up to the steeple, 
 brought down the crosier that was there hidden; it 
 was of gold and of silver. They took there two 
 golden shrines, and nine of silver, and they took 
 fifteen great roods, both of gold and silver. They 
 took there so much gold and silver, and so many 
 treasures in money, and in raiment, and in books, as 
 no man may tell to another, saying that they did it 
 from affection to the monastery. They then betook 
 themselves to the ships, proceeded to Ely, and there 
 deposited all the treasures. The Danish men weened 
 that they should overcome the Frenchmen ; they then 
 dispersed all the monks, none remaining there save 
 one monk named Leofwine Lange. He lay sick in 
 the sick man's ward. Then came Abbot Turold and 
 eight times twenty Frenchmen with him, and all fully 
 armed. When he came thither, he found within and 
 without all burnt, save only the church. The outlaws 
 were then all afloat, knowing that he would come 
 thither. This was done on the day the ivth of the 
 Nones of June (June 2nd). The two kings, William 
 and Svein, became reconciled, when the Danish men 
 went out from Ely with all the aforesaid treasure, 
 and conveyed it with them. When they came in the 
 middle of the sea, a great storm came and scattered 
 all the ships in which the treasures were : some went 
 
xxxii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 to Norway, some to Ireland, some to Denmark ; and 
 all that thither came were the crosier and some 
 shrines, and some roods, and many of the other 
 treasures ; and they brought them to a king's town 
 called . . ., and placed them all in the church. 
 Then afterwards, through their heedlessness, and 
 through their drunkenness, on one night the church 
 was burnt, and all that was therein. Thus was the 
 monastery of Peterborough burnt and plundered. 
 May Almighty God have compassion on it through 
 His great mercy. And thus the Abbot Turold came 
 to Peterborough, and the monks then came again, 
 and did Christ's service in the church, which had a 
 full sennight before stood without any kind of rite. 
 When Bishop ^Egelric that say, he excommunicated 
 all the men who had done the evil.' 
 
 Mr. Freeman seems to think of this event as telling 
 against Hereward's character (Hist. Norm. Conq. iv. 
 461) ; but remembering that the English hero was a 
 'man' of the Abbot of Peterborough, it is not difficult 
 to see that he might have deemed himself loyal to the 
 English abbot by opposing his French successor. Mr. 
 Round takes this view. ' Details recorded by Hugh 
 Candidus, which the Peterborough Chronicle omits,' he 
 says, ' place Hereward's conduct in a somewhat 
 different light, and suggest that he may really have 
 been loyal to the abbey whose man he was. His 
 plea for bringing the Danes to Peterborough was that 
 he honestly believed that they would overthrow the 
 Normans, and that the treasures of the Church would 
 therefore be safer in their hands. He may perfectly 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxiii 
 
 well have been hostile to the Normans and yet faith- 
 ful to the abbey so long as Brand held it ; but the 
 news that Turokl and his knights were coming to 
 make the abbey a centre of Norman rule against him 
 (William of Malmesbury iti loco) would drive him 
 to extreme courses' (Feudal England, p. 163). 
 
 After these opening events things are not so clear. 
 The best summary from all the chronicle sources is 
 given by Sir William Dugdale in his History of Inibank- 
 m^ (pp. 185-91), and I shall use this narrative in the 
 following pageSj checking it where necessary by later 
 research. One important point is worth mentioning 
 here, to show a great distinction which exists between 
 the legendary accounts of Hereward before and after 
 the Ely events begin. I have already alluded to the 
 fact that the legendary events before Ely are placed 
 in a district which is the home of legend and romance. 
 This is in contrast to the events after Ely, when, if 
 we must mistrust some of the stories — and that is 
 matter of no absolute certainty — we cannot mistrust 
 the geography, for it is all true to the fenland. This 
 seems to give a warrant of truth to the Ely events. 
 
 Understanding that Hereward, Lord of Bourne, in 
 Lincolnshire, was returned from beyond sea, those 
 who had fled into the isle forthwith sent for him, 
 desiring that he would repair thither with all his 
 power, and join with them in the defence of their 
 native country, and redeeming their just liberties : 
 and in particular they importuned in behalf of 
 Thurstane, then abbot of that place, and his monks, 
 whose the said island wholly was, and on whose behalf 
 
xxxiv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the same was then fortified against the king, that he 
 would make no delay, because the said king brought 
 in a foreign monk out of France, to obtrude upon 
 them as abbot there ; and that he proposed to do the 
 like in all churches throughout England. (hignlpki 
 Hist., p. 511 n. 20; Ex vet. memhr. penes Georgium 
 Pin-cscy, de Wadley, in com. Berks, arm. cmno. l653 ; 
 Ex Regist. de Peterborough penes Will. Pierpoint arm. 
 f. 234 a.) 
 
 To which request of theirs he willingly con- 
 descended, and forthwith began his journey towards 
 them accordingly : whereof the Earl Warren having 
 notice, whose brother, long before, the said HereAvard 
 had killed, he laid ambushes for him on the outside 
 of the fens belonging to this isle, and kept guards 
 about the waters near to the land, hoping to take him 
 cunningly without any slaughter of his own men ; but 
 Hereward being aware thereof, as also that some of 
 those guards had encountered with part of his soldiers, 
 and pursued them, he came unto their aid, and by 
 taking some of them, discovering that the said earl 
 had set these ambushes for him, and likewise that he 
 was on the morrow to be at Pokei'hed, he hastened 
 thither with his ship, and placing some armed soldiers 
 near the bank of the river, he went himself with 
 three horsemen and four archers, well armed, unto the 
 mouth thereof; where the earl himself with his men 
 was then also come on the other side; and seeing 
 them, sent some of his party nearer ; who inquiring 
 whether they belonged to Hereward, and finding that 
 they did, endeavoured to persuade them to forsake 
 
S. GL'THLAC S CROSS 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxv 
 
 him ; but prevailing not, they returned to the earl, 
 and told him, that Hereward himself was on the other 
 side of the water. Whereupon the said earl animated 
 his soldiers to swim over with him presently, and 
 revenge his brother's death. But they told him, that 
 it was not possible so to do, saying, that his coming 
 thither was purposely thus to delude them : where- 
 upon the eai'l, sighing, said to them on the other side 
 of the water, ' O that I had that devilish fellow (your 
 master) here ! I would certainly torment him to 
 death.' To which words of his Hereward replied, ' If 
 w^e should happen to be so fortunate as to meet alone 
 in any fit place, you would not wish me in your feeble 
 hands, nor like well of my company ' ; and having so 
 said, stooping a little, he bent his bow, and letting fly 
 an arrow, hit the earl on his breast, but his coat of 
 mail would not suffer it to enter ; nevertheless, it came 
 with such a force, that it struck him off his horse, so 
 that his servants took him for dead in their arms. In 
 the meanwhile Hereward went away, and came with 
 his company into the isle the same day, when he was 
 received with great honour by the abbot and his 
 monks ; as also by these noble persons that were there, 
 viz. Morkere, Earl of Warwick, and other eminent 
 men of the country, who, having been much oppressed 
 by the said Conqueror, fled thither. 
 
 Whereof the king hearing, and being much enraged 
 thereat, he resolved to get the isle by assault ; and to 
 that end caused a rendezvous of his whole army at 
 Alrehede (near which place there is a military rampire 
 yet to be seen), where the fen was four furlongs in 
 
xxxvi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 breadth ; and having brought store of wood, stone, and 
 faggots of all kinds, with a multitude of trees and great 
 pieces of timber, fastened them together underneath 
 with cow hides ; and to the end that they might the 
 better pass over them, they stript off the skins of 
 beasts, and filled them with mud like bladders, which 
 being done, there were so many that pressed on to get 
 over, being greedy of the gold and silvei*, whereof they 
 supposed store to be in the isle, that they that went 
 foremost were drowned, with their bridge, and those 
 in the midst became swallowed up in the depth of the 
 fen ; but of those that were hindmost, a few, throwing 
 away their weapons, made a shift by the mud to escape. 
 Nevertheless multitudes perished in this adventure, 
 whose bodies were long after found, putrified in har- 
 ness, and dragged out from the bottom of the water ; 
 but one only man (whose name was Beda) getting into 
 the isle. 
 
 The king therefore, beholding this lamentable 
 disaster, and much grieving thereat, departed thence 
 with those few which he had left, without any hope 
 to conquer it, placing guards of soldiers about it to 
 prevent those within from wasting the country. In 
 the meantime the said Beda, being taken, and brought 
 before the chief persons that were in the isle, and 
 asked why he so boldly adventured himself, he told 
 them, that the king did promise, that whosoever 
 should first enter, and do some notable exploit there 
 to the danger of those that defended it, let him ask 
 what he would of any man's therein, and he should 
 obtain it ; which when they heard, they commended 
 
yNWERSlTY OF CALlFORMif- 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
r 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxvii 
 
 his valour, and kept him there with them for cei'tain 
 days, using him with great respect. Having therefore 
 had this experience of their civihties, and observing 
 how secure the place was by reason of the fortifications 
 there made, as also the number and valour of the 
 soldiers therein, he professed, that as he had often 
 heard them reputed to be persons more expert in 
 war than others, he now found it to be true, and 
 faithfully promised them, upon liberty to go back to 
 the king's camp, that he Avould there relate as much ; 
 which he accordingly did, all being joyful to see him 
 safe returned, even the king himself, for he was one 
 of his most eminent soldiers, unto whom he related the 
 strength of the isle, and his own adventure, and that 
 those earls before mentioned were there, with two 
 noblemen, viz. Orgar and Thirchitell, surnamed Child e ; 
 but extolled Hereward not only beyond them all, com- 
 paring him with the most famous knights which he 
 had seen through France, the whole Roman Empire, 
 or Constantinople. 
 
 At which story the Earl of Warren took no small 
 offence, not enduring to hear such a commendation of 
 him that had slain his brother (as hath been observed) ; 
 and suggested to the king, that the relator was bribed 
 to make so partial a report. But the king, going on 
 in making more inquiry of his particular observations 
 there, had this further account from him, that the 
 monks of this place, fearing to be subject to a foreigner, 
 in regard the king had designed to bi'ing over such out 
 of France, to be chief in all monasteries and churches 
 of England, did entertain those persons there for this 
 
xxxviii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 defence, and thereupon fortified the said isle ; affirm- 
 ing that they were much more willing to live by the 
 labour of their hands than to be reduced to such a 
 servitude, and that the same isle was not then at all 
 burthened by those forces. ' For (quoth he) they 
 matter not the siege, the husbandman not neglecting 
 his plow, nor the hunter his sports ; neither doth the 
 fowler cease from his employment ' : concluding, that 
 they were securely defended by their own soldiery. 
 ' Nay, I shall tell you more (saith he), both what I know 
 and saw. This isle is extraordinary fruitful in all sorts 
 of grass, there being no place in England that hath a 
 more fertile turf; and, moreover, it is compassed about 
 with huge waters and fens, as it were with a strong 
 wall, and aboundeth not only with domestic cattle, but 
 with a multitude of wild beasts, viz. harts, dogs, goats, 
 and hares, both in the woods and near the fens ; as also 
 ermines, pole-cats, weasels, and the like vermin, which 
 are taken with traps and other engines in the winter 
 time. And of fish and fowl which there breed, what 
 shall I say } At the flood-gates upon the skirts of those 
 waters, what a vast company of eels do they take in 
 nets ! as also mighty pikes and pickerells, perch, i-oach, 
 and sometimes greater and royal fishes. Of birds like- 
 wise these be innumerable. So also of geese, bitterns, 
 sea-fowl, water-crows, herons, and ducks, abundance, 
 especially in the winter season, or when they moult 
 their feathers, whereof I have seen three hundred 
 taken at one time ' {Ex Hist. Eccl. Elien. in Bibl. Bodl. 
 f. 30 a). 
 
 Adding, that every day whilst he stayed with them, 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxix 
 
 the fashion of their sitting at dinner and supper in 
 the common hall was a knight and a monk ; and at 
 the upper table the abbot himself, with the said earls ; 
 as also Hereward and Turkill before specified. Like- 
 wise, that above the head of each knight and monk 
 himg a target and lance upon the wall ; and in the 
 midst of the room, upon forms, lay coats of mail and 
 helmets, with other arms ; that, when any occasion 
 should be, the monks always, as well as the soldiers, 
 might be ready to go to fight, whom he found to be 
 most expert men at their weapons. And, moreover, 
 magnified their plenty of all things there, that he said 
 he thought it much better and more safe for the king 
 to come to peaceable terms with them than to adven- 
 ture to assail them by force, and miscarry in the 
 attempt (Ex Regist. de Peterborough, id supra). 
 
 Which speech of his being thus ended, there stept 
 out one of those soldiers that the king had employed 
 to keep the fort made at Reche, in order to the siege 
 of this isle, who being but newly returned from thence, 
 having heard this relation of the before-mentioned 
 Beda, said : ' Do you think this to be a vain report, and 
 not to be believed } I assure you, that yesterday I 
 myself saw a party of the enemy make a sally out of 
 the isle, whereof but seven of them were armed ; and all 
 monks except two, who behaved themselves in every 
 point like soldiers, and fired the town of Burwell, doing 
 much mischief otherwise : which, when our men saw, 
 ten of them issued out of the fort, with a purpose to 
 take them in their return, because they were fewer in 
 number ; but in the skirmish, they slew all our men. 
 
xl THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 except one, a stout soldier, whose name was Richard, 
 and nephew to Osbert the shireeve, with whom one 
 Wenothus had a single encounter ; wherein neither 
 prevailing, though they fought a good while, some of 
 our men went to part them ; whereof the famous 
 Hereward taking notice (for he was within view), he 
 would not suffer any one to meddle, saying, that it was 
 not just that two or three should set upon one man, 
 and that he would not suffer any of his to do so base a 
 thing. But our men followed them to their ships, and 
 killed one of their mariners with a dart ; and taking 
 another prisoner, he told us who they all were, and 
 their names ; viz. Hereward the General, Wenothus, 
 Thurstane (a young man, afterwards surnamed Provost), 
 Boter of S. Edmonds Bury, Siward, Leuric, and Acer, 
 for his stoutness surnamed Hardy. These, notwith- 
 standing they were monks, being skilful men in arms, 
 often gave testimony of their valour in preference of 
 the said Herewai'd.' 
 
 All which the king hearing, as he would not speak 
 an evil word of them, deeming it a most unworthy thing 
 to give bad language of such valiant men, so did he 
 forbear to commend their courage above his own 
 soldiers; but considered to make peace with them, in 
 regard the isle was so strongly fortified, and that he 
 knew not how to prevent their coming out thereof, or 
 return. Whereupon calling together his nobles and 
 counsellors, he told them his thoughts ; alleging, that 
 now he was to march against the army of the Danes, 
 and soon after of necessity to go into Normandy, it 
 would not be safe to leave such an enemy behind him 
 
INTRODUCTION xli 
 
 in the midst of the land, at his back. But some of his 
 nobles, then present, and who were most of his Privy 
 Council, dissuaded him fi'om so doing ; urging, that if 
 he dealt thus favourably with those that had embroiled 
 his kingdom for so long a time, others would not be 
 afraid to do the like {ibid. 188). 
 
 To whom the king in anger replied, that he was not 
 able to conquer them, considering the place naturally 
 so defensible. Whereupon, one Ivotael le Bois, moved 
 with some indignation, told him, that he had long 
 known a certain old witch, who, if she were there, 
 would by her art soon destroy their whole strength 
 and places of defence ; and drive them out as cowards 
 from the island : which was no sooner said, but that all 
 who stood by became earnest suitors to the king, 
 that he would make no delay to encourage and well 
 reward whomsoever that could by any art or skill 
 vanquish his enemies. The king, therefore, yielding 
 to these their persuasions, caused this old woman to be 
 privately sent for, that it might not be talked of; and 
 brought his army together again, placing it on all 
 parts of the isle, making fortifications on every side 
 thereof, and appointing strict guards, to prevent the 
 issuing forth of any that were within, lest they should 
 know what was in hand, and use any means to hinder 
 the same. 
 
 All which being done, and understood by those that 
 were within, it put them to no little disturbance of 
 mind, and likewise fear ; they not knowing what to 
 do, because the king had learned some new way of 
 warring against them. They therefore consulting what 
 
 d 
 
xlii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 was best to be done, concluded to send out some fit 
 person to make a discovery what it was that their 
 enemies were in hand, but finding no man fit for such 
 a task, the valiant Hereward resolved to undergo it 
 himself, either as a scout or traveller, or to alter his 
 habit, though all were against it ; and at length did 
 set forwards, taking with him only his mare called 
 Swallow, which was always very lean and ill-shapen, 
 but of pace exceedingly swift, and nimble for action. 
 
 And when he went out, he changed his clothes, cut 
 his hair and beard; and being so clad, met with a 
 potter, whose pots he took from him, and feigning 
 himself a potter, took his way to the king's court, then 
 at Brandon in Suffolk. And being got thither, it 
 happened that he lodged at the house of a widow, 
 where that old witch was entei-tained, who was to be 
 brought privily, for the destruction of all those in the 
 isle ; where he heard them discourse in Latin what art 
 was to be used for the subduing thereof, they deem- 
 ing him to be a plain country fellow, and ignorant of 
 what they then discoursed. And, about the dead 
 time of the night, discerning the woman of the house 
 and that old sorceress to go out of doors, he secretly 
 followed them, and saw that they went to a certain 
 spring, which was by the side of a garden, and ran 
 towards the east ; and hearing them discourse, he 
 understood that they designed to murther him ; but, 
 to prevent their purpose, he got away very early in the 
 morning with his pots ; and wandering about the king's 
 court on every side, he cried (as potters use to do), 
 ' Pots, pots, good pots and pitchers ; all good earthen- 
 
INTRODUCTION xliii 
 
 ware.' Whereupon being called into the king's 
 kitchen, that they might buy some of his pots, there 
 came in one of the constables of the town, and looking 
 upon him, said, that he never saw any man in favour 
 of face and stature so like Hereward, as a poor man 
 might be like to a rich, and a country man to a 
 soldier ; insomuch as divers came about him, desiring 
 to see a man like so much famed a person. But some 
 when they saw him said, that a man of no greater 
 limbs could not be of that valour and courage as 
 Hei-eward was said to be. Others asked him, if he 
 knew, or had ever seen, that wicked follow, scilicet 
 ' Hereward.' To whom he answered, ' I wish that he 
 were now here amongst us, he being the greatest enemy 
 that I have, for he took a cow and four sheep from me 
 which were all the goods in the woi-ld that I had, 
 except my pots and this mare, and the only livelihood 
 for myself and my two sons.' 
 
 About this time, the king's dinner being making 
 ready, Herewai-d retired into the kitchen ; and, after 
 dinner, the servants, cooks, and grooms of the kitchen 
 gave him wine and beer, that they might make him 
 drunk, and laugh at him, scoffing at him diversly, 
 having a purpose to shave his crown, and pull off the 
 hair of his beard ; and then to hoodwink him, to the 
 intent that he might break his own pots, which they 
 had set about him. But refusing to be thus abused, 
 one of them struck him, whom he requited pre- 
 sently with a blow that knocked him down ; insomuch 
 as the rest took up tongs and other things to beat 
 him; which he discerning, forthwith snatched up a fire- 
 
xliv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 shovel, and laying about him stoutly, killed one, and 
 wounded divers of them. Whereupon, it being made 
 known in the house, they apprehended him, and put 
 him in ward : and soon after, the king being gone out 
 to hunt, one of the keepers came, and brought a naked 
 sword in one hand, and a pair of fetters in the other, 
 which he threatened to put upon him ; but Hereward, 
 being too nimble for him, wrested the sword out of 
 his hold and slew him ; and so, over hedges and 
 ditches hasted to the king's outer court, where he 
 found his mare; and though some pursued him, got 
 safe away to Somersham Wood, where he hid himself 
 till the moon shone after midnight, and then came 
 into the isle. 
 
 But whilst he was thus in the wood, he chanced to 
 meet with a person whose horse was tired, and himself 
 too ; and demanding of him who he was, he told him 
 that he was one of the king's servants, who had 
 pursued a man who had killed one of the kitchen boys 
 and another that had the custody of him after he was 
 apprehended for that fact ; and desired him, that for 
 the love of God, and generosity's sake, he would 
 discover to him, whether he saw such a fellow or not, 
 whom he then described. To whom he replied, 
 ' Because thou requirest me to tell thee, for the love 
 of God, and of generosity, I will. Know, therefore, 
 that I am the man. And now, that thou mayest be 
 infallibly assured that I am so, and that thou hast 
 spoken with me, take this my sword with thee for a 
 testimony, and leave thy lance with me.' All which 
 he reported to the king, who, with those that were 
 
INTRODUCTION xlv 
 
 then present, admired Hereward for an excellent 
 soldier (p. 189). 
 
 The king, therefore, according to his former pur- 
 pose, having prepared divers warlike instruments, 
 brought his whole army to Aelreheth (now Audrey), 
 causing great store of wood and stone, with divers 
 sorts of fagots, and suchlike materials to be carried 
 thither. And summoned all the fishermen in these 
 parts, with their boats, to meet at Cotingelade, that 
 they might transport thither whatsoever was brought, 
 and raise large hills and heaps on this side Aelreheth, 
 whereupon to fight. Amongst which fishermen came 
 Hereward himself also with a boat, using all show of 
 diligence ; and the same day, before sun-setting, 
 having set fire on what was so brought, and killed and 
 drowned divei'S, he made his escape away. And to the 
 end he might not be known, he coloured his head and 
 beard red, neglecting no way to disguise himself, 
 which might further the doing of mischief to his 
 adversai'ies. Whereof the king hearing, commanded, 
 that if ever he could be taken, he should be brought 
 alive to him without any hurt. 
 
 But, having warning by these losses, the king caused 
 more strict guards and watches day and night in every 
 place ; and within seven days raised four or five 
 mounts of earth and other materials, in which they 
 placed certain warlike engines ; intending, on the 
 morrow, with all their force, to assault the isle ; and, 
 that they might the better succeed therein, set that 
 old witch, before mentioned, upon the highest place, 
 in the very midst of them ; that, being so well 
 
xlvi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 guarded, she might exercise her wicked art. Who, 
 being so set up, made long speeches against the isle, 
 and all those that were in it, making signs and shows 
 of their being vanquished ; and always at the end of 
 each spell, she turned up her bare buttocks towards 
 the isle. Howbeit as she was beginning with her 
 third spell, there were those in the isle that set fire on 
 the reeds growing in the fen all thereabouts, which, 
 by the help of wind, spread itself no less than two 
 furlongs ; and making a horrible noise of crackling 
 amongst the willows, and suchlike vegetables, did so 
 affright the assailants, that they hastened away as 
 fast as they could ; but, being troubled with the 
 smoke, could not tell which way to betake themselves, 
 insomuch as many were drowned, the defendants 
 having the advantage of the wind and smoak getting 
 out of the isle, and showering multitudes of arrows 
 upon them. - 
 
 And in this pi'odigious rout and confusion of the 
 assailants, down tumbled the old witch from the 
 place where she was set, and broke her neck ; nay, 
 the king himself hardly escaped death, there being 
 an arrow shot into his target, which he carried away 
 with him to his tent : which so soon as his soldiers saw, 
 they feared he had been wounded ; but he told them 
 that he was not at all hurt, otherwise than by evil 
 counsel, in being deceived and abused through the 
 cunning of that wicked sorceress, expressing that 
 all the mischief which had happened did befall him 
 deservedly, in putting any trust in her devilish art. 
 
 At that time it was that Raphe, surnamed Waer 
 
tIBRARY 
 WtVERSITY OFCA'TOr-' 
 
c 
 
 o 
 
INTRODUCTION xlvii 
 
 (Earl of the East Angles), having privately got together 
 a great strength, inviting divers of the English to his 
 wedding, obliged them to his party deceitfully, by 
 oath; and wasted the whole country from Norwich 
 to Thetford; whereof the two earls, and all the rest 
 of the chief persons who then were in this isle, having 
 notice, repaired to them, leaving only Hereward, with 
 the monks and his own soldiers, to defend this place. 
 
 Things standing therefore thus, the king discern- 
 ing that all his endeavours were fruitless, as to the 
 conquering this isle by war or power, having lost so 
 many men in his attempt to that purpose : he at 
 length, by the counsel of William, then Bishop of 
 Hereford, and others, determined that all the goods 
 and possessions belonging to that abbey, which lay 
 without the compass of the isle, should be seized on 
 and divided amongst his soldiers (Ex Hist. Elien. Eccl. 
 in Bibl. Cotton, sub effigie Titi, A. If. 87 a.), to the end 
 that they might keep guard on the outsides thereof. 
 Of which the monks having knowledge, they forth- 
 with consulted together, their abbot being returned 
 (who, dissembling to go with those earls, fled with 
 the ornaments and treasure of the church to Anger- 
 hale), and resolved not only to yield peaceably to the 
 king, in case he would restore unto them peaceably and 
 honourably all the lands belonging to their church, 
 but to give him a thousand marks. And accordingly 
 sent cunningly, without the knowledge of the noble 
 Hereward, to make that tender to him, the king being 
 then at Warwick, who acceptably entertaining it, they 
 gave admission to him and his soldiers, to come 
 
xlviii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 privately into the isle, when Hereward was gone out 
 with his men to forage, to the end that the business 
 might be done without resistance (Ex Regist. de Peterb., 
 ut supra) : which being discovered to Hereward, by one 
 of the said monks (whose name was Alwyne, the son 
 of Orgar), he grew so enraged that he resolved to set 
 fire to the church and the town ; but, at the earnest 
 entreaty and prayer of that monk, wishing him rather 
 to have regard to his own safety, as also telling him 
 that the king with all his army was then at Wyccheford 
 (within the distance of one furlong), and desiring him 
 that he would secure himself by flight, in case he had 
 no mind to make his peace ; he yielded to those, his 
 persuasions, because he had often accompanied him in 
 his military adventures, and been faithful to him ; and 
 thereupon presently betook himself to those his ships 
 which he had to guard the isle into a large and spacious 
 meer, called Wide, not far from Welle (this being 
 the seventh year of their so holding of the same isle 
 against the king) ; and sailed thither, in regard there 
 were free passages out of it. And there resolving to 
 stay a while, employed some of his soldiers towards 
 Soham, to plunder and pillage the country ; to whom 
 he sent out scouts to bring them back to him, lest 
 they should be taken. Which scouts, finding them in 
 a little island, called Stuntney, thought them to be 
 their enemies; and therefore two of them (viz. 
 Scarfulte and Broher) got amongst the reeds ; and 
 with their swords each shaved the other's crown, 
 expecting thereby to find the more favour being 
 taken ; but at length discovering that they were all of 
 
'# 
 
 # 
 
 J^ 
 
 
INTRODUCTION xlix 
 
 a side they went away together^ and soon got to their 
 master^ Avho had not been long in the said meer, but 
 that the country people and king's soldiers so beset 
 them, that being forced to flee, he killed his own 
 horse, lest any mean fellow should boast that he had 
 taken him. And so getting away into Bruneswald 
 and the great woods of Northamptonshire, he very 
 much wasted the country thereabouts. 
 
 Leaving Sir William Dugdale's narrative at this 
 point, the last act of Hereward in connection with 
 the Camp of Refuge is too important not to quote in 
 the words of the Anglo-Saxon Chro?ucle. It shows him 
 unconquered to the last. Whatever legend may do in 
 suggesting that he made his peace with the Conqueror, 
 history leaves him the unconquerable hero. ' And 
 thus all the outlaws went and surrendered to the 
 king ; these were Bishop JEgehvine and Earl Morkere 
 and all who were with them, except Hereward only, 
 and all who could flee away with him. And he boldly 
 led them out, and the king took their ships and 
 weapons and many treasures' (a.d. 1071). Except 
 Hereward only ! ' Buton Herewerde anum,' as the 
 Saxon tongue has it. These are words which may 
 well stand side by side with those more pitiful words 
 attached to Harold, ' Hie Haroldus rex interfectus 
 est,' to be remembered to an English hero's glory. 
 
 We are now, I think, sufficiently acquainted with 
 the history and the legends of Hereward to judge of 
 the use to which they have been put by the romance 
 writer. It may seem a long preface to the considera- 
 tion of Macfarlane's story, but I think it will help to 
 
1 THECAMPOFREFUGE 
 
 make that story clearer. The dramatis personx are as 
 
 follows : — 
 
 Historical — 
 Hereward. 
 
 Alftrude (Hereward's wife). 
 Ivo Taille-Bois (Norman Count of Spalding). 
 Thurstan (Abbot of Ely). 
 
 Lucia (a Saxon lady, wife of Ivo Taille-Bois). 
 Eaoid (Norman Lord of Brunn). 
 Torold (Norman Abbot of Peterborough). 
 Knid (Prince of Denmark). 
 William the Conqueror. 
 Odo (Bishop of Bayeux). 
 Robert (Earl of Moreton). 
 
 Imaginative — 
 
 Elfric (a novice of Spalding, afterwards Here- 
 wax'd's sword-bearer). 
 
 Father Adhelm (the sub-prior of Crowland Abbey). 
 
 Father Cedric (a monk of Crowland). 
 
 Mildred (hand-maiden to the Lady Alftrude). 
 
 Girolamo of Salerno (an Italian, friend of Here- 
 ward). 
 
 Geoffroy Taille-Bois (brother of Ivo Taille-Bois). 
 
 Prior and other monks of Ely. 
 
 It is difficult to make out from history who among 
 the English were really with Hereward at Ely at 
 this time. Mr. Freeman decides against Archbishop 
 Stigand and Abbot Frithric being there, for good and 
 sufficient grounds. But there is no doubt that Earl 
 
INTRODUCTION li 
 
 Morcar^ Bishop Ethelwine, Siward Barn, and Abbot 
 Thurstan were all there. Edwin, Morcar's ill-fated 
 brother, Avas of course not there, for he had been done 
 to death on his way to Scotland by his own followers ; 
 but that there were other chiefs of the patriot party 
 there can be little doubt, unnamed though they must 
 ever be. 
 
 It will be well to compare with the legendary and 
 historical stories of Hereward which have been con- 
 sidered above, the events which make up Macfarlane's 
 romance. And the existence of Kingsley's fine story 
 supplies the opportunity for a comparative study of 
 the manner in which this episode of English history 
 has been treated by different authors. The following 
 is a synopsis of the events as they appear in the two 
 stories : — 
 
 KINGSLEY. 
 
 MACFARLANE. 
 
 1. Outlawry of Hereward by 
 
 
 Edward the Confessor. 
 
 
 
 2. Journey beyond Northumber- 
 
 
 land to Gilbert of Ghent. 
 
 — 
 
 3. Hereward kills tlie bear. 
 
 — 
 
 4. Fight with three knights who 
 
 
 attack him. 
 
 — 
 
 5. Journey to Cornwall. 
 
 — 
 
 6. Rescue of princess from a 
 
 
 giant lover. 
 
 — 
 
 7. Journey to Waterford. 
 
 — 
 
 8. Rescue of the Cornish princess 
 
 
 for the second time. 
 
 — 
 
 9. Wrecked on the coast of 
 
 
 Flanders. 
 
 — 
 
 10. Wars in Flanders and else- 
 
 
 where. 
 
 — 
 
lii 
 
 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 KINOSLEY. 
 
 MACFARLANE. 
 
 11. 
 
 The cajituro of a famous 
 
 
 
 horse. 
 
 — 
 
 12. 
 
 Marriage with Torfrida. 
 
 
 
 13. 
 
 News of Hastings, arrival of 
 
 
 
 fugitives. 
 
 — 
 
 14. 
 
 Landing at Bourne and slay- 
 
 Landing at Bourne and turning 
 
 
 ing of Normans there. 
 
 out the Normans without blood- 
 shed. 
 
 15. 
 
 Sack of Peterborough. 
 
 Sack of Peterborough. 
 
 16. 
 
 The fight at Aldreth. 
 
 The fight at Aldreth. 
 
 17. 
 
 Hereward's visit in disguise 
 
 
 
 to William's camp. 
 
 — 
 
 18. 
 
 The burning of the witch. 
 
 The burning of the witch. 
 
 19. 
 
 Treason of the Ely monks. 
 
 Treason of the Ely monks. 
 
 20. 
 
 Hereward kills his famous 
 
 
 
 mare. 
 
 — 
 
 21. 
 
 Escape from the fens into 
 
 
 
 Bruueswald. 
 
 — 
 
 22. 
 
 Capture of Abbot Thorold. 
 
 Capture of Abbot Thorold. 
 
 23. 
 
 Torfrida enters Crowlaud 
 Monastery. 
 
 _ 
 
 24. 
 
 Fight with Sir Letwold. 
 
 — 
 
 25. 
 
 Marriage with Alftruda. 
 
 Marriage with Alftruda. 
 
 26. 
 
 Hereward comes in to the 
 
 Hereward comes in to King 
 
 
 king. 
 
 William. 
 
 27. 
 
 Slaying of Hereward by 
 
 
 
 several knights. 
 
 — 
 
 28. 
 
 — 
 
 Hereward dies in peace. 
 
 The events which ai'c common to both stories do 
 not follow each other in the same order in each story. 
 Hereward's marriage with Alftruda occurs eai'ly in 
 Macfarlane's story, and is his only marriage ; it occurs 
 late in Kingsley's story, and is his second and un- 
 wise marriage. The capture of Thorold occurs late 
 in Kingsley's story and early in Macfarlane's story. 
 But this question of the sequence of events aside, it 
 
o^j,.jriJ 
 
 ^yz^jp- 
 
 
 t^^" 
 
 '% 
 
 [from iiLGnALE's Histovy of Imhanking] 
 
INTRODUCTION liii 
 
 will be seen that Macfarlane's story is less crowded 
 with detail than Kingsley's. 
 
 These being the events of this memorable episode 
 of English history, the next point to consider is the 
 part of the country where they occurred. The land 
 of the fens is not now what it was, but fortunately 
 there is preserved to us a very good account of the 
 operations which changed fens into fertile fields, wide 
 lakes into rivers and water courses — fenland, in fact, 
 into modern Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, and 
 Lincolnshire. To Dugdale's Hislonj of Imhanking the 
 historian owes a great debt, for it is possible with its 
 help to get back to the condition of things which 
 preceded the great drainage schemes of the seven- 
 teenth century. By comparing the three maps of 
 Celtic, Roman, and Saxon Britain, which Mr. Pearson 
 gives in his Historical Maps of England, it will be seen 
 how the great fen district, which stretched fi*om the 
 Wash more than sixty miles southward, and from 
 twenty to forty eastward, isolated the Anglian pro- 
 vinces from the Mercian ; while we know that the 
 rivers which traversed these fens had such depths of 
 water as to facilitate attack from the sea. The Danes 
 sailed up the Witham as far as Lincoln, and up the 
 Ouse as far as Ely ; and ship's ribs and timbers have 
 been found in the Witham, deep sunk in the bed of 
 the river (Pearson, op. cit, p. 3). 
 
 Before the diversion of the waters of the Ouse 
 from what is now called the Old Ouse, or Old West 
 River, to the magnificent artificial cuts known as 
 the Bedford Rivers, the access to the islands of the 
 
liv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 fen must have been always difficult, and often nearly 
 impossible. 
 
 This naturally inaccessible country was made 
 accessible by the arts of man. British roads and 
 Roman roads traversed the entire area, and they are 
 not obliterated even by the different requirements of 
 modern times. The Soham causeway crossed Soham 
 mere to Ely, and thence from east to west to St. Ives ; 
 south of this and almost parallel was Haddenham 
 causeway from Stretham in the east to St. Ives in the 
 west. Crossing these two causeways at right angles, 
 and running therefore from south to north, was Aldreth 
 causeway from Cambridge to Witcham, which served as 
 a way from the drier lands near Cambridge to the 
 islands in the fen. Another great causeway ran 
 irregularly from St. Ives to Cold Harbour, then bifur- 
 cated in one direction to Peterborough across Whittle- 
 sey mere, and in the other direction northwards to 
 Ingleborough. Besides these, the work of the fen- 
 people themselves, there was the work of their 
 conquerors the Romans. Akeman Street ran from 
 Cambridge through Thetford and Ely straight up to 
 Lynn ; the great fen-road crossed from west to east 
 from Durobrivae south-west of Peterborough to SwaflF- 
 ham and the coast of Norfolk at Happisburgh. Near 
 Eastrey this road stands from one to two feet above 
 the present surface of the land, and is nearly 60 feet 
 wide and as hard as stone (Babbington, A71C. Cam- 
 bridgeshire, p. 69) ; and Dugdale, in describing this 
 roadway in l662, speaks of it as 60 feet wide "^ in all 
 places where they have cut through it' (^Hist. of 
 
MAP OK THE DISTRICT, FROM THE ORDNANCE SURVEY 
 
INTRODUCTION Iv 
 
 Imhanking, p. 175; Brown's Post. Works, p. 4). Ely 
 was connected with Spalding by a roadway which 
 branched from Akeman Street at Littleport and went 
 by the way of Wilney, probably along the line of the 
 old causeway dyke to Upwell and Elm, and from thence 
 in a direct line to Spalding (Babbington, op. cit. 73). 
 
 But Ely was at this time strictly an island, and it is 
 so described by Macfarlane (see p. 35). It is a tract 
 slightly raised above the level of the surrounding 
 country, and on the highest point the present cathedral 
 church of Ely now stands. The main approach was 
 not by the Roman road, but by Aldreth causeway. It 
 was at this point that the isle was most accessible ; 
 and here is the spot where William the conqueror of 
 England had to contend with Hereward the defender 
 of England. 
 
 Kingsley has left us a picture of these fens which is 
 difficult to pass over without drawing attention to, for 
 there is nothing like it in Macfarlane's story. ' They 
 have a beauty of their own, these great fens,' says this 
 great romancist, and then he describes this beauty, with 
 the enthusiasm of one who has realised it and drunk it 
 into his being, in a singularly fine passage which occurs 
 at the opening of his story of Hereward the Wake 
 (see p. 11 of the 1883 edition). 
 
 One further point must be borne in mind in deciding 
 the true significance of Hereward's defence of Ely, and 
 that is the character of the people, other than the 
 leaders, who fought with him — a subject not brought 
 into prominence by the romance writer. The fen- 
 landers were not what the rest of the English were. 
 
Ivi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 even if they were English at all. So recently as the 
 beginning of the present century an agricultural 
 surveyor reports of the fens that ' the labourers are 
 much less industrious and respectable than in many 
 counties. In the fens it is easily accounted for : they 
 never see the inside of a church, or any one on a 
 Sunday but the alehouse society. Upon my asking my 
 way, towards the evening, in the fens, I was directed 
 with this observation from the man who informed 
 me, '^Are you not afraid to go past the bankers 
 at work yonder, sir ? " I was told these bankers were 
 little better than savages ' (Gooch, Agriculture of Cam- 
 bridgeshire, p. 289). If we carry this evidence back 
 to the period of Hereward's defence we find there is 
 good reason to believe that these people were as 
 untamed by the civilisation that surrounded them as 
 could well be. A passage from the early historian of 
 Ramsey (c. 86) seems to point to the existence of 
 British, that is pre-Saxon, robbers in the fenland at 
 the time of Knut. The English tenants of an oppres- 
 sive Danish thegn say, ' Quousque alienigenae istius 
 vitam donandum gratis Britonibus latronibus continuis 
 noctium excubiis ad nostrum dedecus et damnum 
 conservamus.' An unconquered people, fighting on 
 their own ground with their own Aveapons and in 
 their own familiar fashion, could, if situated as the 
 fenlanders were situated, make a stout resistance 
 when they were properly led. 
 
 Arms and armour, and, above all things, boats, have 
 been from time to time dug up in the fens as silent 
 witnesses to the doings of these times ; and in some 
 
KENiNEPH S BOUNnARY — STONE IN WELLAXD WASH 
 
THORNEY ABBEY CHURCH 
 
INTRODUCTION Ivii 
 
 places the skeletons of -warriors, with the remains of 
 their shields and arms, have been discovered. At Wil- 
 braham a shield was discovered with the handle yet 
 remaining grasped by the finger-bones of a human 
 hand ; while in another grave the skeletons of a man 
 and a horse were found together Avith a sword placed 
 between them (Gent. Mag. Lib. Archceology, ii. 174). 
 This latter is sure indication of Scandinavian influence, 
 and the grim memorial of war represented by the 
 skeleton hand brings to mind in a very dramatic 
 fashion the struggle of the fens. In Wilburton fen not 
 far from Haddenham (referred to in the story as the 
 birthplace of Elfric the novice, p. 48), and about two 
 miles from Aldreth, a great hoard of bronze implements, 
 including spear-heads and swords, was found in 1882. 
 It was examined and described by Sir John Evans 
 {Archoeologia, xlviii. 106-114), and this great autho- 
 rity, considering the broken condition of the imple- 
 ments, their varied nature, and other circumstances, 
 could not give a very definite opinion as to the origin 
 of their deposit at this spot. From the point of view 
 of the archaeological age to which they belong, the 
 difficulties stated by Sir John Evans are no doubt great, 
 but I think there is another side to the question. The 
 people of this district were not advanced in civilisation 
 in Hereward's time, and it is probable that they used the 
 weapons of their far-off forefathers just as they came 
 to hand. It is stated on good authority that some of 
 Harold's soldiers at Hastings fought with stone weapons; 
 and that the fen-people should have fought with bronze 
 weapons seems to me not an unreasonable conjecture. 
 
 e 
 
Iviii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 In 1635^ according to Andrew Burrell in his Relotion 
 touching the Fens, l642, several boats were discovered 
 in the silt upon the deepening of the Wisbech river. 
 
 In 1839 a canoe-boat was found in Deeping fen. 
 This was hollowed out of a single tree, and was 40 feet 
 long, 3 feet across, aud its stern 5 feet 8 inches broad 
 and 4 feet deep. A keel ran along the bottom (Walker 
 and Craddock, History of Wisbech, ^p. 36). About 1851, a 
 very fine canoe-boat was found at Haddenham in North 
 fen (Cambridge Ajiiiq. Soc. iv. 195). In 1881, at a point in 
 the river Ouse about half-way between Denver Sluice and 
 Lynn, just above the Great Horse-shoe Bend, commonly 
 called ' Maudlin Bend,' a canoe-boat was found (ibid. 203). 
 The boats described in the story as belonging to the in- 
 vading Danes (p. 250) might be of the type found ; and 
 when compared with the famous boat found at Christi- 
 ania a few years ago, this conclusion seems warranted. 
 
 The monasteries of Peterborough, Ely, Crowland, 
 and Spalding are referred to in the story, and it will 
 be well to say a word about these and their remains 
 as they appear at the present day. 
 
 As far back as a.d. 655, Saxulf, a Mercian thane, 
 founded a monasteiy on the spot where the cathe- 
 dral church of Peterborough now stands. King Edgar 
 richly endowed it, as did Earl Leofric and his famed 
 Countess Godiva, and the Abbot Leofric, who died 
 from wounds at Hastings. After its sack by the Danes 
 and Hereward, its glory departed until the church was 
 rebuilt during the Norman period. Its choir dates 
 from 1118, the transepts from thirty or forty years 
 later, and the nave from the end of the twelfth century. 
 
j/t4' 
 
 >■ 
 
 J 
 
 SECTION OF CANOE FOUND NEAR LYNN 
 
 (Cmnhridije Antiqnarian Society, ml. iu.) 
 
p 
 
 CROWLANl) ABBEY CHURCH 
 
INTRODUCTION lix 
 
 At the latter part of the fifteenth century^ the choir 
 aisle was erected (Arch. Assoc, xxxv. 323). It is now 
 being destroyed by the so-called restorers. 
 
 Ely is perhaps sufficiently described on pp. 37-39 of 
 the story, for the present cathedral church does not 
 contain any portion of the ancient Saxon foundation. 
 
 Of Crowland there is more to be said. S. Guthlac's 
 house and chapel were on what is still called Anchorite 
 or Anchor Church Hill, about a quarter of a mile north- 
 east of the abbey, on the east side of the road to 
 Spalding, and a few hundred yards south of S. James 
 Bridge. He seems to have at first selected a mound, 
 which had previously been dug into, most likely as a 
 gravel-pit, and to have built partly over this pit. 
 A ground-plan of the last portion of the foundations 
 of what has been traditionally supposed to be the 
 anchorite's cell is given in the Archaeological Associa- 
 tion Journal (xxxv. 133). It was exhumed in 1866, 
 in order to get out the foundation-stones on which 
 it stood. The foundations then exposed consisted 
 of two parallel walls, running east and west, about 
 14 feet apart, and 84 feet in length. On either side, 
 towards the western end, was a room, making the 
 whole width of the western end 42 feet. These 
 foundations consisted of concrete walls, nearly 3 feet 
 thick, with at intervals substantial bases of unhewn 
 stone, more than 8 feet square, three on each side, 
 opposite to each other, about '12 feet apart, with an 
 intermediate base (half the size of the other bases) 
 between the two easternmost bases on the south 
 side. Full two hundred tons of Barnack rag-stone were 
 
Ix THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 carted away from these foundations at this time. As 
 this operation was carried on by the new proprietor very 
 privately, only a few relics, such as portions of deers' 
 horns, the metal lid of a small cup, came to light. 
 Prior to this act of vandalism, the site was a cultivated 
 mound. In the year 1708, Dr. Stukeley says he 'saw 
 the remnant of a chapel there, which was then turned 
 into a dwelling-house or cottage.' He says, moreover, 
 that the ruins of this stone cottage were pulled down 
 about 1720, and the field was known as 'Anchor Church 
 Field.' Here, there is little doubt, was the cell of 
 S. Guthlac, and not on the site of the abbey, which 
 was erected full three centuries after his death. 
 
 Crowland is a dull, decayed village. Many of the 
 cottages look as mouldy as if they had remained un- 
 touched since the dissolution, when the glory of Crow- 
 land departed. The wondrous triangular bridge still 
 exists in the village street, though even a deluging 
 rain now fails to make a stream run beneath its finely 
 moulded and ancient arches, which for five hundred 
 years have attested the skill of all its builders. The 
 villagers will have the seated effigy on the bridge to 
 be Cromwell, with a loaf of bread in his hand. 
 It may have been that the figure was originally 
 intended to represent ^thelwald, king of Mercia, one 
 of the first benefactors of the abbey ; others, again, 
 think it to be the figure of a saint from a niche in the 
 church. The story goes, that about the year 710 iEthel- 
 wald was a fugitive, and sought refuge with his kins- 
 man Guthlac, who prophesied his future greatness. In 
 acknowledgment of the fulfilment of this prophecy. 
 
PRECINCT OF THE PRIORY OP SPALDING^ FROM DUGDAI,e's Moiiasticnn 
 
INTRODUCTION Ixi 
 
 ^thelwald built a church of stone as a memorial to 
 S, Guthlac, and around this the monastic buildings 
 gathered. They were destroyed by the Danes when 
 they invaded the country in 806. Ninety years later 
 Abbot Thurkytel began a new churchy but it was not 
 till the latter days of the Confessor that the present 
 building was begun ; and, indeed, it is possible that 
 some of the older foundations, excavated a few years 
 ago, wei'e of this date (^Arch. Assoc, xxxv. 319). 
 
 Of Spalding there are practically no remains. In 
 1789 the ruins of the priory consisted of some cottages 
 with Gothic windows, and part of the church and gate- 
 way, but these have since been almost demolished. 
 Dugdale, in the original edition of his Monasticon, gives 
 an engraved plan of the precinct of the priory as it 
 stood in his time, and a reduced wood-block of this 
 is given in the later edition (vol. iii. p. 214). 
 
 Two other places sacred to Hereward's history are 
 the remains of the castle at Cambridge, from which 
 William delivered his attack on Ely, and ' Hereward's 
 mound ' at Ely, still pointed out as the spot where the 
 hero made his last stand. 
 
 Besides the character of Hereward and his followers 
 and the events with which they were connected, the 
 story deals with the monastic life of the period. We 
 have the picture of Ely brought very vividly before 
 us, and it may be generally stated that Macfarlane's 
 details are very fairly correct. He is severe and 
 sarcastic upon the attention the monks paid to feast- 
 ing and wine-drinking, but apparently not without 
 reason. The elaborate details of the refectory afford 
 
Ixii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 evidence of the importance attached to the supper of 
 the monks. This room was a large hall. Within the 
 door on the left hand was an almery where stood the 
 grace cup out of which the monks after grace every 
 day drank round the table ; and another large one on 
 the right with smaller within^ where stood the mazers, 
 of which each monk had his peculiar one. At the 
 south end of the high table was an iron desk, on 
 which lay a Bible from which one of the novices read 
 a part in Latin during dinner. At the east end was 
 a table for the master of the novices, the elects, and 
 the novices to dine and sup at. Two windows opened 
 into the refectory from the great kitchen, the one 
 large for principal days^ the other smaller for every 
 day ; and through these the meat was served. Over 
 against the door in the cloister was a conduit or 
 lavatory for the monks to wash their hands and faces. 
 This description, quoted from Fosbrooke's British 
 Monachism, is no doubt more particularly applicable 
 to Norman times, but it is probable that the late 
 Anglo-Saxon an-angements at a large abbey like Ely 
 would not be very different. 
 
 The costume of the monks is a matter of some 
 interest, especially as Mr. R. A. S. Macalister has 
 quite recently investigated the subject of ecclesiastical 
 vestments, generally from the point of view of their 
 historical origin in pagan civil costume. On p. 317 
 a list of articles belonging to the monks is recited by 
 the chamberlain, and these, as may be seen by refer- 
 ence to the glossary, are probably taken from the 
 authority of Fosbrooke. Fosbrooke figures a bishop 
 
(yt:Ae/ctft>-'u>u-<i./ty[ 
 
 'l^nc/u!j/^^Kj^6::). 
 
 ECCLKSIASTICAL SCUM'Tl'RP^S SH<)VVIi\(i ('((STl'IMi; 
 IN SAXOX TIMES 
 
INTRODUCTION Ixiii 
 
 from a Saxon ms. about 1066 (British Monachism, 
 p. 291, plate i.), and two sculptm-es of about the same 
 date from Peterborough (ibid, plate ii.)- The dress 
 of monks, says Mr. Macalister, usually consists of the 
 vestis, tunic, or closed gown ; the scapular, roughly 
 speaking, a narrow chasuble-like dress, with the front 
 and back portions rectangular, and of uniform width 
 throughout ; one or more open gowns (pallium or 
 cappa), and the caputium or hood fastened at the back 
 and capable of being drawn over the head. Different 
 vestments are worn by individual orders or houses 
 (Ecclesiastical Vestments, p. 235). 
 
 Minor details which are illustrated by Macfarlane's 
 story may be briefly referred to. The opening 
 chapter describes the use of the curious fen-poles, 
 ' such as the fenners yet use in Holland, Lindsey, and 
 Kesteven' (p. l), an illustration of which is given in 
 Wheeler's History of the Fens, p, 91- The men of 
 Spalding are described as wearing 'sheepskin jackets, 
 and with bows and knives in their hands' (p. 22). 
 The game of bowls referred to on p. 49 is probably 
 quite warranted by the history of the game, though 
 there is no actual evidence of it being played in 
 Anglo-Saxon times; but I should doubt there being 
 a bowling-alley at Ely. The game of pitching the 
 bar (p. 315) may also have been a Saxon game. The 
 manor-house of stone and moated, ' proper to stand a 
 siege ' (p. 3, et alii), is, I am afraid, not true to Anglo- 
 Saxon times, and is particularly not true of the fen 
 district, where very little stone was used. Macfarlane 
 makes a point about Saxon architecture being of 
 
Ixiv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 stone, and objects to the theory that the 'churches 
 and abbeys and monasteries were built almost entirely 
 of wood ' (p. 39). It is true that controversy has 
 ranged round this subject and that authorities differ, 
 but I think on the whole it must be admitted that 
 the evidence for a very extensive use of stone prior to 
 the Norman Conquest is not forthcoming (see a 
 discussion in Gentleman s Magazine, reprinted in the 
 'Ecclesiology' volume of the Gent. Mag. Lib., pp. 17-61), 
 while it is certain that bricks were not used at all 
 (see Gomme, Village Conuminittj, p. 46). The houses 
 of the villagers, however, are very well described on 
 p. 329 in the account of the raid upon Dereham. 
 
 The house customs described on p. l79 are in 
 accord with what is known of Anglo-Saxon life, but 
 the bath mentioned on p. 181 is probably an ana- 
 chronism. The Norman baptismal feast described in 
 chapter vi. is probably correct, and the illustration, 
 from an early Ms., given in Wright's Domestic Manners, 
 p. 64, of a Norman carousal may be referred to. 
 
 Affectionate regard is paid to Harold. He is 
 believed to have escaped alive from Hastings (see 
 p. 57), and to have been preparing to again head the 
 English against the Norman Conqueror. This has, 
 however, only the warrant of a ms. life of Harold of 
 the thirteenth century, which has been reprinted by 
 Mr. Walter de Gray Birch, and of a story related by 
 Giraldus Cambrensis, that Harold survived the battle, 
 became a monk in Chester, and before he died had a 
 long and secret interview with Henry the First. No 
 historian except Palgrave gives credit to this, but the 
 
ANGLO-SAXON HOUSE 
 
 (Harleian MSS. No. 603) 
 
INTRODUCTION Ixv 
 
 uncertainty as to Harold's burial would account for it 
 having arisen. According to most of the English 
 writers, the body of Harold was given by William to 
 Githa, without ransom, and buried at Waltham. 
 But William of Poitiers, who was the Duke's own 
 chaplain, expressly says that William refused Githa' s 
 offer of its weight in gold for the supposed corpse of 
 Harold, and ordered it to be buried on the beach, 
 with the well-known taunt, ' Let him guard the coast 
 which he madly occupied ' ; and on the pretext that 
 one whose cupidity and avarice had been the cause 
 that so many men were slaughtered and lay un- 
 sepultured, was not worthy himself of a tomb. Orderic 
 confirms this account, and says the body was given to 
 William Mallet for that purpose. 
 
 It is also put in the story, as a matter of belief, 
 that Hastings 'was lost by foul treachery' (seep. 58), 
 but of this there is absolutely no proof. 
 
 Other more specific matters of history or archaeo- 
 logy are dealt with in the glossary and notes. 
 
 Of the literaiy merits of Macfarlane's story there can 
 be little question. It is written as the simple narrative 
 of a chronicler, and touches one with the charm of 
 ancient days. It indicates rather than describes the 
 scenery ; it relates rather than explains the events ; 
 it records rather than extols the heroic ; it tells part 
 of the conversations that took place rather than puts 
 into the mouths of men and women talk that might 
 have taken place. It is obvious that these character- 
 istics bring it into sharp contrast with Kingsley's 
 story. Kingsley is more dramatic and lifelike ; Mac- 
 
Ixvi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 fai'lane is more penetrating. There is nothing in 
 Macfarlane to equal Kingsley's remarkably fine descrip- 
 tions of Hereward's relationship to Tostig Godwinsson ; 
 of his reception of the news of Stamfordbridge, and his 
 scornful surprise that Harold Sigurdsson should have 
 been defeated and slain by Harold Godwinsson ; of 
 his reception of the news of Hastings and his indignant 
 protest against England being lost in consequence — 
 ' Sussex is not England, nor Wessex either ' ; of his pain- 
 ful cry to have been there ^to go with them to Valhalla'; 
 of his touching reception of Githa, the widow of God- 
 win and mother of Harold^ in her flight from defeated 
 England to Flanders, Again, there is nothing like the 
 picture of the fierce Danish nature of Hereward, the 
 same nature that brought out in Kingsley's story the 
 war-song of Surturbrand the blind Viking, ' Hereward 
 is come, Ahoi ! he is wet with blood/ when he met 
 Hereward when, landing at Bourne, he recaptured his 
 own homestead. Indeed, in the treatment of this event 
 by the two authors their difference of method is very 
 plainly illustrated. The Hereward of Macfarlane is a 
 more polished knight. And who shall say which is the 
 truer portrait } Let them both exist. There is room for 
 both pictures, for both characters : — for the wild, blood- 
 thirsty, generous, and wayward Hereward of Kingsley, 
 who would not fight at Hastings, because he would not 
 accept Harold as king, and yet cried out to know 
 where Edwin and Morcar fought at the battle, and 
 scoi'ned them as vain babies when he was told of their 
 unmeaning action ; who went over to fight for his 
 country when there was little chance left of his success ; 
 
^x 
 
 />V--i::.^-^ 
 
 
 ,C7 
 
 SILVER PENNY OF WILLIA.M I. 
 
INTRODUCTION Ixvii 
 
 who played with the faithful heart of his wife, as his 
 mood and passion taught him ; who came in to William 
 at lastj and died fighting and killing to the last : and 
 there is room, too, for that other Hereward of Mac- 
 farlane's story, who earned his right to championship 
 by fighting by the side of Harold at Hastings; who kept 
 on the struggle because he would not give in so long 
 as there was a chance ; who lived the life of the times, 
 and died the death of one who had earned his peace. 
 There is room for both heroes and both stories, and 
 history and literature claim them for the light they 
 shed upon a glorious page of England's history. 
 
 The author of this book was born in Scotland, 
 and died as a 'poor brother of Charterhouse' in 1858. 
 He was a voluminous writer, but his only thorough 
 piece of work is the Civil and Military History of England, 
 which he contributed to Knight's Pictorial History, and 
 which has been reprinted with additions once or twice 
 since. 
 
 The Camp of Refuge was published anonymously in 
 two volumes, 12mo, in 1844. It then appeared with 
 other stories in Old English Novelettes, four volumes, 
 ISmo, 1846-7. It was next reprinted by itself in 1880, 
 and again in 1887. The present edition is a reprint of 
 the 1846-7 edition. 
 
GLOSSARY AND NOTES 
 
 Abbat, or Abbot (j). 41). 
 
 The head of an abbey, elected by the chapter. He was deposable 
 for various causes by the ceremony of breaking his seal, as was done 
 at his natural demise, by a hammer upon one of the steps before 
 the altar, and depriving him of the stole and ring. — Fosbrooke's 
 Monachism, p. 85. 
 
 Accolade (p. 193). 
 
 Properly an embrace or clasping about the neck ; the technical name 
 of the salutation marking the bestowal of knighthood, applied 
 at different times to an embrace, a kiss, and a slaji on the shoulders 
 with the flat blade of a sword. 
 
 AsSOILED (p. 299). 
 To absolve from sin, grant absolution to, pardon, forgive. 
 
 Athelstan's Sono of Victory (p. 176). 
 
 This is for the famous victory of Brunanbui-gh of which so much 
 has been written. The best account of Athelstan and his deeds is 
 to be found in William of Malmesbury's Clironicle, lib. ii. cap. 6, 
 who quotes a portion of the celebrated song. 
 
 Banded (p. 293). 
 
 Published, promulgated ; but the use of the word in this sense is 
 not noticed in Dr. Wright's English Dialect Dictionary. It is from 
 the Anglo-Saxon hannan. 
 
 Bed and Bedding of the Monks (p. 317). 
 
 This is described in detail by Fosbrooke in British Monachism, 
 p. 227. The abbot's bed was in the middle of the dormitory near 
 the wall, and the novices had their beds on the south. Their bedding 
 included blankets, curtains, pillows, and coverlids. 
 
 Bell, Book, and Candle (p. 114). 
 
 The form of excommunication in the Church of Rome, ending by 
 closing the book against the offender, extinguishing the candle, and 
 ringing the bell. — Halliwell, Diet. Arch. Words. 
 
GLOSSARY AND NOTES Ixix 
 
 BiBEBES (p. 17). 
 
 Drinkings which were usual in summer after nones. 
 
 BoBBixo FOR Eels (p. 49). 
 
 Bob is north-country dialect for 'to fish.' The particular method 
 of taking eels called bobbing is described in Blome's Gentleman's 
 Recreation, 1686, ii. 185. See also Mr. Ernest Suffling's Land of the 
 Broads, p. 300. 
 
 BOBHMAN (p. 333). 
 
 Borh is Anglo-Saxon for sui-etj', pledge ; but borhman here means 
 the chief man of the town. 
 
 BoT (p. 113). 
 Compensation ; an Anglo-Saxon word. 
 
 Bowling-Alley (p. 49). 
 
 Bowling-allej's were prevalent in later times, but in Anglo-Saxon 
 days, if bowls were played, they were probably played in the open 
 fields. In 1571 they were prohibited during church service. See 
 Halliwell, Diet. Archaic Words. 
 
 BURGH-GEMOT (p. 184). 
 
 The meeting of the burghers of cities and boroughs in council. 
 See Stubbs, Select Charters. 
 
 Camise (p. 109). 
 A light, loose dress of silk or linen ; a chemise, shirt, timic. 
 
 Cantel-Copes (p. 222). 
 
 A kind of cope or cape. 
 
 Carricks (p. 335). 
 
 A small fishing-boat is noted in Holinshed's Description of Scotland, 
 p. 22, as 'carrocks.' 
 
 Catatalk (p. 343). 
 
 From the French catafalque. A temporary structure re[)resenting 
 a tomb, placed over the coffin of a distinguished person in churches 
 or over the grave. Here used in a more general sense. 
 
 Cautelous (p. 72). 
 Crafty, artful, cautious ; stated l)y Halliwell to be a very common 
 word. 
 
Ixx THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Cellarer (p. 40). 
 
 The officer of an abbey who had the care of everything relating 
 to the food of the monks, and vessels of the cellar, kitchen, and 
 rcfectorj'. He was allowed absence from masses, completory, and 
 all the hours except matins, vespers, and prime. He was to weigh 
 the bread daily, and in collecting the sjjoons after dinner he was to 
 carry the abbot's in his right hand, and the rest in his left (see 
 p. 317). — Fosbrooke, British Monachism, p. 118. 
 
 Chamberlain {p. 79). 
 
 He was the officer to find everything necessary for the clothes, 
 bedding, cleanliness, and shaving of the monks (see p. 317). — Fos- 
 brooke, British Monachism, p. 141. 
 
 Chapter (p. 64). 
 
 The governing body of the monastery, held daily in most orders, 
 but only once a week in others. No person was allowed to enter the 
 cloister while the chapter was held, on accovmt of the secrets of it, 
 which were never to be revealed. The chapter-house had three rows 
 of stone benches one above the other, a reading-desk and a bench, a 
 place called the Judgment in the middle, a seat for the abbot, 
 higher than the others, and a Crucifix. — Fosbrooke, British 
 Monachism, p. 222. 
 
 Churchyard Devils (p. 308). 
 
 The churchyard demons were always a prominent part of popular 
 
 superstitions. 
 
 Churchyard Feasts (p. 297). 
 
 A very ancient and prevalent superstition was that were-wolves and 
 wizards used to dig up the dead from their graves to feast upon. 
 
 Combs (p. 317). 
 
 The monks used various kinds made of box or ivory, but the use 
 of combs was not general among the Anglo-Saxons. 
 
 Compline (p. 19). 
 
 The last service of the daj', completing the services of tlie canonical 
 hours. 
 
 Cresset (p. 193). 
 
 A vessel of iron or the like, made to hold grease or oil, or an iron 
 basket to hold pitched rojje, wood, or coal, to be burned for light ; 
 usually moimted on the top of a jjole or building, or suspended from 
 a roof. Frequent as a historical word ; in actual use api^lied to a fire- 
 basket for giving light on a wharf, etc. 
 
GLOSSARY AND NOTES Ixxi 
 
 Crosier (p. 361). 
 
 The pastoral crook, which was sometimes barely curled, sometimes 
 more ornamented, and sometimes like beadles' staves. — Fosbrooke, 
 British Monachism, ]). 103. 
 
 CUCULLIS (p. 108). 
 
 The hood or cowl of a monk. 
 
 Dalmatic (p. 361). 
 
 An ecclesiastical vestment, with a slit on each side of the skirt, and 
 ^vide sleeves, and marked with two stripes, worn in the Western 
 Church by deacons and bishops on certain occasions. A similar robe 
 worn by kings and emperors at coronation and other solemnities. 
 
 Devils (p. 139). 
 
 The names of the demons in popular superstition are many and 
 verj- curious. Dr. Harsnet in 1605 published a little book, A 
 Declaration of Egregious Popish Imiwstures, which contains many of 
 these names, and Grimm's Teutonic Mythology should be consulted 
 as to their significances. 
 
 Ely as a Camp of Refuge. 
 
 Nigel, Bishop of Ely, and Alexander, Bishop of Lincoln, established 
 a camp of refuge at Ely in the time of Stephen. Many jiartisans of 
 the popidar jjarty fled thither in the time of John. After the battle 
 of Evesham [temp. Hem-y iii.) Simon de Montford and the barons 
 defended the isle against the king and Prince Edward. 
 
 Evanish (p. 332). 
 To vanish out of sight, disappear from view. 
 
 Fautor (p. 105). 
 Aider, supporter. 
 
 Featy (p. 87). 
 Neat, clever, dexterous, elegant. 
 
 Foster-brother (p. 117). 
 
 The institution of fosterage is general among all the Indo-European 
 peoples. It was of exceptional imjiortance in Ireland, but existed 
 among the Anglo-Saxons as well. Sir Henry JMaine's Early History 
 of Institutions, p. 241, should be consulted. It occurs in the laws of 
 Ina and of Edmund. 
 
 Frith (p. 221). 
 Peace ; Anglo-Saxon. 
 
Ixxii THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Frith Svlot (p. 311). 
 A spot or plot of ground encircling some stone, tree, or well con- 
 sidered sacred, and therefore affording sanctviary to criminals. — 
 Thorpe, Ancient Laics and Institutes of England (glossary). 
 
 Gorgets (p. 28). 
 A defence for the neck. 
 
 Gride (p. 386). 
 To pierce, cut through, give out a harsh, creaking sound; from 
 O.E. girdcn, to strike, A.-S. gracdan, to cry. 
 
 Grith (p. 221). 
 Peace, truce, protection, asylum, guarantee of safety or immunity 
 (Anglo-Saxon). 
 
 Hauberks (p. 194). 
 A part of mail-armour intended originally for the protection of the 
 neck and shoulders, but as generally used a long coat of mail coming 
 below the knees and even nearly to the ankles, slit up the sides, and 
 sometimes in front and behind, to allow the wearer to mount a 
 horse. 
 
 Horrent (p. 372). 
 
 Standing erect, as bristles ; covered Avith bristling points ; bristling, 
 
 horrible, abhorring. 
 
 ' Him round 
 A globe of fierj' seraphim inclosed, 
 With bright imblazonry and horrent arms.' 
 
 Milton, Paradise Lost, ii. 513. 
 
 Hospitaller (p. 40). 
 
 An occasional officer of an abbey. He was to observe the officers 
 whether they had proper servants and regular chambers, and to 
 make comijlaints of their ill-behaviour. He conducted visitors to 
 their places at the various functions of the monastery.— Fosbrooke, 
 British Monachism, p. 140. 
 
 Hugeous (p. 83). 
 
 Huge, big. 
 
 ' She made his hawke to fly 
 With hogeous showte and crye.' 
 
 Skelton, Ware the Hawke. 
 
 Incubus and Succubus (p. 139). 
 Terms used in the Middle Ages to denote male and female devils 
 with whom wizards and witches were thought to have intercourse. 
 It was a horrible conception altogether, and is one of the black spots 
 of that terrible belief in ^vitchcraft which so generally prevailed. 
 
GLOSSARY AND NOTES Ixxiii 
 
 Jarls. 
 
 Our atheling, ceorl, and slave are found in the oldest tradition of 
 the north as jarl, carl, and thrall ; in later times, carl Ijegat the 
 bonder, and jarl the king. — J. R. Green, Conq. of Eng., p. 57. 
 
 Mauound (p. 297). 
 
 1. Mahomet or IMahommed : an old form of the name of the 
 Arabian prophet. 
 
 2. The devil ; an evil spirit : so called as confused, or identified in 
 the medieval mind, which regarded all heretics and false prophets 
 as instigated l^y the devil, with Mahomet, or JIahommed, the False 
 Prophet. 
 
 Manumitted Churls (p. 181). 
 
 Slaves freed hj their lords. For the custom of manumission, 
 the student should consult Kemble's Saxons in England, vol, i. 
 Appendix C. 
 
 Mats (p. 31G). 
 
 Mats were used in the choir to put under the feet of the monks in 
 the Vigil of All Saints ; also under those of the boys and youths. 
 They were also used in the chapter, cloistei', in both the parlours, 
 and upon the stairs of the dormitory. — Fosbrooke, British 
 Monachism, p. 130. 
 
 Mead (p. 55). 
 
 A fermented liquor made from honey and water flavoured with 
 spices. 
 
 Mitre (p. 3G1). 
 
 Mitres appear to have been worn by abbots like those of bishops. 
 — Fosbrooke, British Monachism, pp. 103, 285. 
 
 NoociiN (i). 31G). 
 
 A vessel of wood ; also a mug, or similar vessel of any material. 
 The contents of such a vessel ; a small amount of liquoi', as much as 
 might suffice for one person. 
 
 Nones (p. 323). 
 About 2 or 3 p.m., one of the canonical hours. 
 
 Oaths. 
 
 See the remarks of Hcniy, Hist, of Britain, on this head. From 
 the lavish abuse of oaths, pcrjur}- had come to be reckoned one of the 
 national vices of the Saxon. 
 
 / 
 
Ixxiv THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Obedientiarii (p. (JO). 
 
 Offices under the abbot, often conferred by the abbot for favour 
 or money. — Fosbrooke, British Monachism, p. 110. 
 
 Octave. 
 
 The eighth day from a festival, the feast-day itself being counted 
 as the first. The octave necessarily falls on the same day of the 
 week as the feast from which it is counted. 
 
 Omens (p. 249). 
 
 A hare crossing the path, sneezing, and a picture falling from the 
 wall are all modern superstitions. It is not out of place to sub- 
 stitute the falling of a shield for the latter, and to consider all these 
 as omens of the eleventh-century Dane. 
 
 Palmer (p. GO). 
 
 Properly a pilgrim who had visited the Holj- Land, from the palm 
 or cross which he bore as a sign of such visitation ; but Chaucer 
 seems to consider all pilgrims to foreign parts as jjalmers, and the 
 distinction was never much attended to in this country. — Halliwell, 
 Diet. 
 
 Pasque (p. GG). 
 
 The Jewish feast of the Passover, and hence the Christian feast of 
 Easter. 
 
 Passing Bell (p. 52). 
 
 The bell which is tolled at the time a person is dying, i.e. at the 
 time the soul is passing away. Brand's Popular Antiquities, vol. i. 
 p. 202, contains a sufficiently good account of this custom. 
 
 Pigment (p. 55). 
 
 This is meant for 'piment,' which was a drink made up from wine, 
 honey, and spices. — Fosbrooke, British Monachism, p. 217, note. 
 
 Prior (p. 40). 
 
 The head of a prior}-, and in an abbey the officer next to the 
 abbot. He had the first place in the choir, chapter, and refectory. 
 He was censed after the abbot, could depose malversant officers, 
 and could call at pleasure a chapter of the servants and punish 
 delinquents. — Fosbrooke, Monachism, p. 112. 
 
 QlTINZANE. 
 
 The fourteenth day after a feast-day, or the fifteenth if the day of 
 the feast is included. 
 
GLOSSARY AND NOTES Ixxv 
 
 Respectuously (p. 8). 
 
 Deserving of respect ; used in 1610 by Knolles in Hist, of Turks, 
 and quoted by Halliwcll, Diet. Archaic Words. 
 
 ROCUET (p. 216). 
 
 A loose upper garment, which was adopted by the clergy in the 
 IMiddle Ages, and is still worn. — Fairholt, Costume, ii. 350. 
 
 Saciust (p. 70). 
 
 The secretary of the monaster}', and an officer who had many and 
 important duties. — Fosbrooke, British Monachism, p. 126. 
 
 S. OviN AND HIS Cross (p. 4). 
 
 This saint was said to descend from the ancient Britons, and 
 had been minister to Etheldreda. See p. 38. The cross iu Ely 
 Cathedral dedicated to S. Ovin was removed from Haddenham in 
 1770. For description of the cross, see Archceological Association 
 Transactions, xxxv. pp. 388-396. 
 
 Sedges (p. 337). 
 
 The ])opular name of an extensive genus of grass-like plants, grow- 
 ing mostly in marshes and swamps and on the banks of rivers, dis- 
 tinguished from the grasses by having the stems destitute of joints. 
 From Anglo-Saxon sccg, a reed. 
 
 Shire-Gejiot (p, 184). 
 The council or assembly of the shire or county. 
 
 SURIEVE (p. 229). 
 
 An obsolete form of shrive. To prescribe penance for sin, im- 
 jrosc penance on. To receive a confession from a penitent and grant 
 absolution. 
 
 Sortilege (p. 148). 
 
 Divination by drawing lots ; from Latin sortilcr/us. 
 
 SouLscoT (p. 244). 
 In old ecclesiastical law, a funeral jiayment, formerly made at the 
 grave, usually to the parish priest in whose church service for the 
 dei)arted had been said. 
 
 SriTTiNo {p. 299). 
 
 The jjractice of spitting to express dislike of a jierson, or to place 
 spittle lietwcon oneself and an enemy, is a general superstition, and 
 it is perfectly justifiable to use it as in the text. 
 
Ixxvi THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 SuccuRS.\x Cell (p. 4). 
 A suborilinato branch of a inoiiasterj% 
 
 SwiNKED (p. 185). 
 
 Swinke, to labour (iVnglo-Saxon). Brockett in hia North- Coimtrii 
 Glossari/ has swinked, meaning oppressed, vexed, fatigued. 
 
 TlTHINGM.U^ (p. 147). 
 
 The headman of a tithing, that is, the union of the free households 
 for mutual security, and hence the part of a village or parish. 
 
 ToxsuRE (p. 30). 
 
 The tonsure signified the crown of thorns worn bj our Savioiu-, 
 and also denoted humilitj' and the service of God, slaves being shorn. 
 The Westerns used a small circle of short hair round the head called 
 the tonsure of S. Peter. — Fosbrooke, British Monachism, p. 284. 
 The bare place on the head of a priest or monk, formed by shaving 
 or cutting the hair ... Of : the ecclesiastical tonsm-e there were 
 known to the Anglo-Saxons, in the earlj' period of their Church, two 
 distinctive shapes, the Roman and the Irish : the Roman form was 
 pcrfectl}' round ; the Irish was made by cutting away the hair from 
 the ujjper part of the forehead in the figure of a half-moon, with the 
 convex side before. — Rock, Church of our Fathers, p. 186. 
 
 Troth Plight (jj. 126). 
 The passing of a solemn vow either of friendship or marriage. 
 
 Un-v^'ealed (p. 368). 
 
 Not having received extreme unction ; from Anglo-Saxon an, not, 
 and dan, to oil. 
 
 To think ill of. 
 
 Vilipend (p. 77). 
 
 "SVakdering Jew (p. 309). 
 
 This refers to a widespread legend of the Middle Ages, to which 
 ]\Ir. Moncure Conway has devoted a s])ecial volume. The legend goes 
 that a Jew mocked at Jesus on His way to the Cross, and his 
 doom was never to die and never to rest, but to wander from land 
 to land untQ the Day of Judgment. Mr. Keary in Outlines of 
 Primitive Belief draws attention to the parallel legend in northern 
 mythologj-. 
 
GLOSSARY AND NOTES Ixxvii 
 
 Wassails (p. 58). 
 
 From the Anglo-Saxou ivaes had, be in health. It was anciently 
 the pledge-word in drinking. The wassail-bowl appeared at Christ- 
 mas iu the country until quite recently. 
 
 Wimple (p. 82). 
 
 A covering of silk, linen, or other material laid in folds over the 
 head and round the chin, the sides of the face, and the neck, formerly 
 worn by women out of doors, and still retained as a conventual di'ess 
 for nuns. Consult Fairholt, Costume, ii. 413. 
 
 Wolf Month (p. 178). 
 January. 
 
THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE MESSENGER 
 
 It was long ago ; it was in the year of grace one thou- 
 sand and seventy, or four years after the battle of 
 Hastings, which decided the right of power between 
 the English and Norman nations, and left the old 
 Saxon race exposed to the goadings of the sharp 
 Norman lance, that a novice went on his way from the 
 grand abbey of Crowland to the dependent house or 
 succursal cell of Spalding, in the midst of the Lincoln- 
 shire fens. The young man carried a long staff or 
 pole in his hand, with which he aided himself in leaping 
 across the numerous ditches and rivulets that inter- 
 sected his path, and in trying the boggy ground before 
 he ventured to set his feet upon it. The upper end of 
 his staff was fashioned like unto the staff of a pilgrim, 
 but the lower end was armed with a heavy iron ferrule, 
 from which projected sundry long steel nails or spikes. 
 It was a fen-pole, such, I wist, as our fenners yet use 
 in Holland, Lindsey, and Kesteven. In a strong and 
 bold hand this staff might be a good war-weapon ; and 
 as the young man raised the skirts of his black garment 
 it might have been seen that he had a short broad 
 hunting-knife fastened to his girdle. He was a fair- 
 haired, blue-eyed, and full-lipped youth, with an open 
 
2 THECAMPOFREFUGE 
 
 countenance and a ruddy complexion : the face seemed 
 made to express none but joyous feelings, so that the 
 grief and anxiety which now clouded it appeared to be 
 quite out of place. Nor was that cloud always there, 
 for whensoever the autumn sun shone out brightly, 
 and some opening in the monotonous forest of willows 
 and alders gave him a pleasant or a varied prospect, or 
 when the bright king-fisher flitted across his path, or 
 the wild duck rose from the fen and flew heaven-ward, 
 or the heron raised itself on its long legs to look at 
 him from the sludge, or the timid cygnet went sailing 
 away in quest of the parent swan, his countenance 
 lighted up like that of a happy thoughtless boy. 
 Ever and anon too some inward emotion made him 
 chuckle or laugh outright. Thus between sadness and 
 gladness the novice went on his way — a rough and 
 miry way proper to give a permanent fit of ill-humour 
 to a less buoyant spirit, for he had quitted the road or 
 causeway which traversed the fens and w^as pursuing a 
 devious path, which was for the greater part miry in 
 summer, but a complete morass at the present season of 
 the year. Notwithstanding all his well-practised agility, 
 and in spite of the good aid of his long staff", he more 
 than once was soused head over ears in a broad water- 
 course. With a good road within view, it may be 
 thought that he had some strong motive for choosing 
 this very bad one ; and every time that his path 
 approached to the road, or that the screen of alders 
 and willows failed him, he crouched low under the tall 
 reeds and bulrushes of the fen, and stole along veiy 
 cautiously, peeping occasionally through the rushes 
 towards the road, and turning his ear every time that 
 the breeze produced a loud or unusual sound. As thus 
 he went on, the day declined fast, and the slanting sun 
 shone on the walls of a tall stone mansion, battle- 
 
THE MESSENGER 3 
 
 mented and moated — a dwelling-house, but a house 
 proper to stand a siege : and in these years of trouble 
 none could dwell at peace in any house if unprovided 
 with the means of holding out against a blockade, and 
 of repelling siege and assault. All round this manor- 
 house, to a wide space, the trees had been cut down 
 and the country drained ; part of the water being 
 can-ied off to a neighbouring mere, and part being 
 collected and gathered, by means of vai-ious cuts, to 
 fill the deep moat round the house. 
 
 Here the young man, in fear of being discovered by 
 those who occupied that warlike yet fair-looking dwell- 
 ing, almost crawled on the ground. Nevertheless he 
 quitted his track to get nearer to the house ; and then, 
 cowering among some reeds and bulrushes, he put his 
 open hand above his eyebrows, and gazed sharply at 
 the moat, the drawbridge, the low gateway with its 
 round-headed arch, the battlements, and the black 
 Norman flag that floated over them. The while he 
 gazed, the blast of a trumpet sounded on the walls, 
 and sounded again, and once again ; and, after the 
 third blast, a noise as of many horses treading the 
 highroad or causeway was heard among the fen reeds. 
 The novice muttered, and almost swore blasphemously 
 (albeit by the rules of the order he was bound to use 
 no strong terms than crede mihi, or plafie, or eerie, or 
 benedicamus Domino) ; but he continued to gaze under 
 his palm until the sounds on the road came nearer and 
 trumpet replied to trumpet. Then, muttering 'This 
 is not a tarrying place for the feet of a true Saxon ! ' 
 he crawled back to the scarcely perceptible track he 
 had left, and kept on, in a stooping posture but at a 
 rapid 2)ace, until he came to a thick clump of alders, 
 the commencement of a wood which stretched, with 
 scarcely any interruption, to the banks of the river 
 
4 THECAMPOFREFUGE 
 
 Welland. Here, screened from sight, lie struck the 
 warlike end of his staff against the trunk of a tree, and 
 said aloud, ' Forty Norman men-at-arms ! by Saint 
 Etheldreda and by the good eye-sight that Saint Lucia 
 hath vouchsafed unto me ! Forty Norman cut-throats, 
 and we in our succursal cell only five friars, two 
 novices, two lay-brothers, and five hinds ! and our poor 
 upper buildings all made of wood, old and ready to 
 burn like tow ! and not ten bows in the place or five 
 men knowing how to use them ! By Saint Ovin and 
 his cross ! were our walls but as strong as those of the 
 monks of Ely, and our war-gear better, and none of us 
 cowards, I would say, " Up drawbridge ! defy this 
 Norman woodcutter, who felled trees in the forest for 
 his bread until brought by the bastard to cut Saxon 
 throats and fatten upon the lands of our thanes and 
 our churches and monasteries ! " I would spit at the 
 beard of this Ivo Taille-Bois, and call upon Thurstan 
 my Lord Abbat of Ely, and upon the true Saxon hearts 
 in the Camp of Refuge, for succour ! ' And the pas- 
 sionate young man struck the trunk of the poor un- 
 offending tree until the bark cracked, and the long 
 thin leaves, loosened by autumn, fell all about him. 
 
 He then continued his journey through the low, thick, 
 and monotonous wood, and after sundry more leaps, 
 and not a few sousings in the water and slips in the 
 mud, he reached the bank of the Welland at a point 
 just opposite to the succursal cell of Spalding. A ferry- 
 boat was moored under the walls of the house. He 
 drew forth a blast-horn ; but before putting it to his 
 lips to summon the ferryman across, he bethought him 
 that he could not be wetter than he was, that he had 
 got his last fall in a muddy place, and that the readiest 
 way to cleanse himself before coming into the pre- 
 sence of his superior would be to swim across the river 
 
THE MESSENGER 5 
 
 instead of waiting to be ferried over. This also suited 
 the impatient mood he was in, and he knew that the 
 serf who managed the boat was always slow in his 
 movements, and at times liable to sudden and un- 
 seasonable fits of deafness. So, throwing his heavy 
 staff before him, like a javelin, and with so much vigour 
 that it reached and stuck deep into the opposite bank, 
 he leaped into the river and swam across after it. 
 Before he came to the Welland the sun had gone 
 down ; but it was a clear autumnal evening, and if he 
 was not seen in the twilight by a lay-brother stationed 
 on the top of the house to watch for his return and to 
 keep a look-out along the river, it must have been 
 because the said lay-brother was either drowsy and 
 had gone to sleep, or was hungry and had gone down 
 to see what was toward in the kitchen. 
 
 The succursal cell of Spalding was but a narrow and 
 humble place compared with its great mother-house at 
 Crowland : it seemed to stand upon piles driven deej) 
 into the marshy groimd ; the lower part of the building 
 was of stone, brick, and rubble, and very strong ; but 
 all the upper part was of wood, even as the wayfaring 
 novice had lamented. A few small round-headed 
 arches, with short thick mullions, showed where was 
 the chapel, and where the hall, which last served as 
 refectory, chapter, and for many other uses. Detached 
 from the chapel was a low thick campanile or bell- 
 tower, constructed like the main building, partly of 
 stone, brick, and rubble, and partly of timber, the 
 upper ])art having open arches, through which might 
 be seen the squat old bell and the ponderous mallet, 
 which served instead of a clapper. The Welland 
 almost washed the back of the house, and a dee]) 
 trench, filled by the water of the river, went round 
 the other sides. Without being hailed or seen by 
 
6 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 any one, tlie young man walked round from the river 
 bank to the front of the house, wliere the walls were 
 pierced by a low arched gateway, and one small grated 
 window a little above the arch. ' The brothers are all 
 asleep, and before supper time ! ' said the novice, ' but 
 I must rouse old Hubert.' He then blew his horn as 
 loud as he could blow it. After a brief pause a loud 
 but cracked voice cried from within the gates, ' Who 
 comes hither, after evening song .'' ' 
 
 'It is I, Elfric the novice.' 
 
 ' The voice is verily that of child Elfric ; but I must 
 see with my eyes as well as hear with mine ears, for 
 the Norman be prowling all about, and these be times 
 when the wolf counterfeiteth the voice of the lamb.' 
 
 'Open, Hubert, open,' cried the novice, 'open, in 
 the name of Saint Chad ! for I am wet, tired, and 
 a-hungered, and the evening wind is beginning to 
 blow coldly from the meres. Open thy gate, Hubert, 
 and let fall the bridge ; I am so hungry that I could 
 eat the jilanks ! Prithee, is supper ready } ' 
 
 To this earnest address no answer was returned ; 
 but after a minute or two the twilight showed a 
 cowled head behind the grates of the window — a head 
 that seemed nearly all eyes, so intensely did the door- 
 porter look forth across the moat — and then the voice 
 which before had been heard below, Avas heard above, 
 saying, ' The garb and figure be verily those of Elfric, 
 and the water streams from him to the earth. Ho ! 
 Elfric the novice — an thou be he — throw back thy 
 hood, and give the sign ! ' 
 
 ' Abbat Thurstan and Saint Etheldreda for the East 
 Englanders ! ' shouted the young man. 
 
 Here, another voice was heard from within the 
 building calling out, ' Hubert, whom challengest } Is 
 it Elfric returning ft-om Crowland } ' 
 
THE MESSENGER 7 
 
 ' Yea/ quoth the portarius, ' it is Elfric the novice 
 safe back from Crowland, but dripping like a water- 
 rat, and shivering in the wind. Come, help me lower 
 the bridge, and let him in.' 
 
 The gate was soon opened, and the naiTow draw- 
 bridge lowered. The youth entered, and then helped 
 to draw up the bridge and make fast the iron-studded 
 door. Within the archway every member of the little 
 community, except those who were preparing the 
 evening repast or spreading the tables in the refectory, 
 and the superior who was prevented by his gout and 
 his dignity from descending to the door-way to meet 
 a novice (be his errand what it might), was standing 
 on tip-toe, and open-mouthed for news ; but Elfric 
 was a practised messenger, and knowing that the 
 bringer of bad news is apt to meet with a cold wel- 
 come, and that the important tidings he brought ought 
 to be communicated first to the head of the house, he 
 hurried through the throng, and crossing a cloistered 
 court, and ascending a flight of stairs, he went straight 
 to the cell of Father Adhelm, the sub-prior of Crow- 
 land Abbey, who ruled the succursal cell of Spalding. 
 The monks followed him into the room ; but the 
 novices and lay-brothers stopped short at the thres- 
 hold, taking care to keep the door ajar so that they 
 might hear whatsoever was said within. ' I give thee 
 my benison, oh, my child ! and may the saints bless 
 thee, for thou art back sooner than I weened. But 
 speak, oh Elfric ! quick ! tell me what glad tidings 
 thou bringest from my Lord Abbat and our faithful 
 brethren at Crowland, and what news of that son of 
 the everlasting fire, our evil neighbour Ivo Taille-Bois } ' 
 
 After he had reverentially kissed the hand of his 
 superior, Elfric the novice spake and said : 
 
 ' Father, I bring no glad tidings ; my news be all 
 
8 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 bad news ! Ivo Taille-Bois is coming against us to 
 complete his iniquities, by finishing our destruction ; 
 and the Abbat and our faithful brethren at Crowland 
 are harassed and oppressed themselves, and cannot 
 help us ! ' 
 
 The faces of the monks grew very long ; but they 
 all said in one voice, ' Elfric, thou dreamest. Elfric, 
 thou speakest of things that cannot be ; for hath not 
 my Loi'd Abbat obtained the king's peace, and security 
 for the lives of all his flock and the peaceful possession 
 of all our houses, succursal cells, churches and chapels, 
 farms and lands whatsoever, together Avith our mills, 
 fisheries, stews, warrens, and all thing appertaining to 
 our great house and order ? ' 
 
 One of the primary duties imposed upon novices 
 was to be silent when the elders sj^ake. Elfric stood 
 with his hands crossed upon his breast and with his 
 eyes bent upon the floor, until his superior said, ' Peace, 
 brothers ! let there be silence until the youth hath 
 reported what he hath heard and seen.' And then 
 turning to Elfric, Father Adhelm added, ' Bring you 
 no missive from our good Abbat ? ' 
 
 ' Yea,' said the novice, ' I am the bearer of an 
 epistle from my Lord Abbat to your reverence ; and 
 lo ! it is here.' And he drew forth from under his 
 inner garment a round case made of tin, and presented 
 it most respectuously to the superior. 
 
 ' I am enduring the pains of the body as well as the 
 agony of the spirit,' said the superior, ' and my swollen 
 right hand refuses its office ; brother Cedric, undo the 
 case.' 
 
 Cedric took the case, opened it, took out a scroll of 
 parchment, kissed it as if it had been a relic, unrolled 
 it, and handed it to the superior. 
 
 'Verily this is a long missive,' said the superior, 
 
THE MESSENGER 9 
 
 running his eyes over it^ 'and alack, and woe the 
 while, it commenceth with words of ill omen ! 
 Brethren^ my eyes are dim and cannot read by twi- 
 light : the body moreover is faint, I having fasted 
 from everything but prayer and meditation since the 
 mid-day refection ; and then, as ye can bear witness, 
 I ate no meat, but only picked a stewed pike of the 
 smallest. Therefore, brethren, I opine that we had 
 better read my Lord Abbat's epistle after supper 
 (when will they strike upon that refectory bell ?), and 
 only hear beforehand what Elfric hath to say.' 
 
 The cloister-monks gladly assented, for they were 
 as hungry as their chief, and, not being very quick at 
 reading, were glad that the superior had not called 
 for lights in the cell, and called upon them to read 
 the letter. 
 
 'Now speak, Elfric, and to the point; tell the tale 
 shortly, and after the evening meal the lamp shall be 
 trimmed and we will draw our stools round the hearth 
 in the hall, and read the abbat's epistle and deliberate 
 thereupon.' 
 
 Upon this injunction of Father Adhelm, the youth 
 began to relate with very commendable brevity, that 
 the abbey of Crowland was surrounded and in good 
 part occupied by Norman knights and men-at-arms, 
 who were eating the brotherhood out of house and 
 home, and committing every kind of riot and excess ; 
 that the abbat had in vain pleaded the king's peace, 
 and shown the letters of protection granted liim by 
 Lanfranc, the new foreign primate of the kingdom ; 
 that the Normans had seized upon all the horses and 
 mules and boats of the community ; and that the 
 abbat (having received disastrous intelligence from 
 the north and from other parts of England where 
 the Saxon patriots had endeavoured to resist the 
 
10 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 conqueror)^ had fallen sick, and had scarcely strength 
 to dictate and sign the letter he brought. 
 
 'These are evil tidings indeed,' said the superior, 
 'but the storm is yet distant, and may blow over 
 without reaching us. It is many a rood from Crow- 
 land to Spalding, and there is many a bog between us. 
 Those accursed knights and men-at-arms will not 
 readily risk their horses and their own lives in our 
 fens ; and now that Ivo Taille-Bois hath so often 
 emptied our granaries, and hath crippled or carried 
 off all our cattle, we have the protecting shield of 
 poverty. There is little to be got here but bare walls, 
 and Ivo, having the grant of the neighbouring lands 
 from the man they call King William, is not willing 
 that any robber but himself should come hitherward. 
 His mansion guards the causeway, and none can pass 
 thereon without his bene placet. But, O Elfric ! what 
 of the demon-possessed Ivo .'* Rests he not satisfied 
 with the last spoils he made on our poor house ? 
 Abides he not ti'ue to his compact that he would 
 come no more, but leave us to enjoy his king's peace 
 and the peace of the Lord ? Heeds he not the 
 admonition addressed to him by Lanfranc ? Speak, 
 Elfric, and be quick, for methinks I hear the step of 
 the cellarer by the refectory door.' 
 
 'The strong keep no compact with the weak,' 
 responded the novice, 'and these lawless marauders 
 care little for William their king, less for their arch- 
 bishop, and nothing for the Lord ! While I was hid 
 in Crowland Abbey waiting for my Lord Abbat's 
 lettei', I heard from one of the friars who can interpret 
 their speech, that some of these Normans were saying 
 that Ivo Taille-Bois wanted the snug nest at Spalding 
 to put cleaner birds into it : that Ivo had made his 
 preparations to dispossess us. And lo ! as I came 
 
THE MESSENGER 11 
 
 homeward through the fens, and passed as near as I 
 might to the manor-house which Taille-Bois made his 
 own by forcibly marrying the good Saxon owner of 
 it, I heard the flourish of trumpets, and anon I saw, 
 tramping along the causeway towards the well-garri- 
 soned manor-house, forty Norman men-at-arms ! ' 
 
 ' Not so, surely not so, Elfric,' said the superior in a 
 quake, ' danger cannot be so near us as that ! ' 
 
 ' His eyes must have deceived him,' cried all the 
 brothers. 
 
 ' Nay,' said the youth, ' I saw, as plainly as I now 
 see the faces of this good company, their lances glint- 
 ing in the setting sun, and their bright steel caps and 
 their grey mail, and . . .' 
 
 ' Fen-grass and willows,' cried the superior, who 
 seemed determined not to give credit to the evil 
 tidings, ' what thou tookest for spears were bulrushes 
 waving in the breeze, and thy steel-caps and grey 
 mails were but the silvery sides of the willow-leaves 
 turned upwards by the wind ! Boy, fasting weakens 
 the sight and makes it dim ! ' 
 
 'Would it were so,' quoth Elfric; 'but so was it 
 not ! I heard the trumpet give challenge from the 
 battlements — I heard the other trumpet give response 
 — I heard the tramping of many hoofs along the hard 
 solid causeway ; and, creeping nearer to the road, I 
 saw lances and horses and men — and they were even 
 forty ! ' 
 
 'It cannot be,' said one of the monks, 'for, when he 
 made his last paction with us, Ivo Taille-Bois swore, 
 not only by three Saxon saints but eke by six saints of 
 Normandie, that he would do us and our house no 
 further wrong.' 
 
 'The senses are deceptious,' said another of the 
 brotherhood. 
 
12 THE CAxMP OF REFUGE 
 
 'The foul fiend, who often lurks in these wilder- 
 nesses and plays fiery j)ranks in our fens, may have 
 put it into this youth's head to mar our peace with 
 false alarms,' quoth another monk. 
 
 'Say ivarning, and not false alarm,' rejoined Elfric 
 rather petulantly. ' If you will not be warned, you 
 will be surprised in your sleep or at your meals. These 
 forty men-at-arms cannot come hither for other purpose 
 than that of finishing our ruin and driving us hence. 
 As sure as the sun riseth they will be here to-morrow 
 morning.' 
 
 'The boy chafes, and loses respect for his elders,' 
 said the monk who had last spoken. 
 
 ' Let him sup with the cats ! ' cried the superior. 
 At this moment a bell was struck below ; and at the 
 signal the novices and lay-brothers ran from the door 
 at which they had been listening, and the superior, 
 followed by the monks, and at a respectful distance by 
 the reproved and vexed novice, hobbled down stairs to 
 the refectory. 
 
 The aspect of that hall, with its blazing wood fire, 
 abundant tapers and torches, and well-spread tables, 
 intimated that the superior's account of the poverty 
 and destitution to which Ivo the Norman had reduced 
 the house was only figurative or comparative. That 
 good father took his place at the head of the table ; 
 the monks took their seats according to their degree of 
 antiquity ; the novices and the lay-brothers sat below 
 the salt ; and poor Elfric, submissive to his penance, 
 sat down cross-legged on the rushes in the middle of 
 the floor, and in the midst of all the cats of the estab- 
 lishment, who, I wist, knew as well as the monks the 
 meaning of the dinner and supper bell, and always 
 trooped into the refectory to share the fragments of 
 the feast. One of the novices ascended a little pulpit 
 
THE MESSENGER 13 
 
 raised high in one of the angles of the hall, and the 
 superior having blessed the good things placed before 
 him, this young novice read from the book of Psalms 
 while the rest of the company ate their meal. After 
 all had been served, even to the meanest of the lay- 
 brothers, Elfric's bread and meat and his stoup of wine 
 were handed to him on the floor — and then was seen 
 what it signified to sup with the cats ; for tabbies, greys, 
 blacks, and whites, all whisked their tails, and purred 
 and mewed, and scratched round about him, greedy to 
 partake with him, and some of the most daring even 
 dipped their whiskers into his porringer, or scratched 
 the meat from his spoon before it could reach his 
 mouth. Nevertheless the young man made a hearty 
 meal, and so, in spite of their fears and anxieties, did 
 all the rest of that devout community. As grace was 
 said, and as the reader was descending from the pulpit 
 to do as the others had done, the superior, after swal- 
 lowing a cup of wine, said rather blithely, ' Now trim 
 the good lamp and feed the fire, close the dooi-, and 
 place seats and the reading-desk round the hearth.' 
 
 As the novices and lay-brothers hastened to do these 
 biddings. Father Cedric whispered to the superior, 
 ' Would it not be fitting to shut out the young and the 
 unordained, and deliberate by ourselves, maturiJ'rairesV 
 
 ' No/ replied the superior, ' we be all alike con- 
 cerned ; let novices and lay-brothers stay where they 
 are and hear the words of our Lord Abbat. If danger 
 be so nigh, all must prepare to meet it, and some may 
 be wanted to run into Spalding town to call upon all 
 good Christians and true Saxons there to come to the 
 rescue.' 
 
 Then turning to the youth on the rushes he said, 
 ' Elfric the messenger, thou mayest rise and take thy 
 seat in thy proper place : I cannot yet believe all 
 
14 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 thy news, and thou spokest when thou oughtest not to 
 have spoken ; but these are days of tribulation, and 
 mischief may be nearer than we thought it. Yet, 
 blessed be God ! that provides food and drink for His 
 creatures, and that makes the bounteous meal and the 
 red wine revive the heart and courage of man, I feel 
 very differently now from what I felt before supper, 
 and can better bear the weight of evil news, and more 
 boldly face the perils that may lie in my path.' By 
 words or by looks all the brotherhood re-echoed this 
 last sentiment. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE SUCCURSAL CELL 
 
 The Abbat of Crowland's letter, read aloud and slowly 
 by the cheerful fire, had no note of gladness in it. It 
 began, ' Woe to the Church ! woe to the servants of 
 God ! woe to all of the Saxon race ! ' and it ended with, 
 ' Woe ! woe ! woe ! ' It related how all the prelates of 
 English birth were being expelled by foreign priests, 
 some from France and some from Italy ; how nearly 
 every Saxon abbat had been deprived, and nearly every 
 religious house seized by men-at-arms and given over 
 to strange shavelings from Normandy, from Anjou, 
 from Picardy, from Maine, from Gascony, and number- 
 less other parts, and how these alien monks, who could 
 not speak the tongue which Englishmen spoke, were 
 occupying every pulpit and confessional, and consign- 
 ing the people to perdition because they spoke no 
 French, and preferred their old masters and teachers 
 to their new ones, put over them by violence and the 
 sword ! Jealousies and factions continued to rage 
 among the Saxon lords and among those that claimed 
 kindred with the national dynasties; sloth and gluttony, 
 and the dulness of the brain they produce, rendered 
 of no avail the might of the Saxon arm, and the courage 
 of the Saxon heart. Hence a dies irce, a day of God's 
 wi'ath. Aldred, the Archbishop of York, had died of 
 very grief and anguish of mind : Stigand, the English 
 
 15 
 
16 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and the true Archbisliop of Canterbury, after wandering 
 in the Danelagh and in Scotland, and flying for his life 
 from many places, had gone in helpless condition to 
 the Camp of Refuge in the Isle of Ely: Edgar Etheling, 
 that royal boy, had been deserted by the Danes, who 
 had crossed the seas in many ships to aid him ; and he 
 had fled once more in a denuded state to the court of 
 Malcolm Caenmore, the Scottish king. In all the north 
 of England there had been a dismal slaughter : from 
 York to Durham not an inhabited village remained — 
 fire and the sword had made a wilderness there — and 
 from Durham north to Hexham, from the Wear to 
 the Tyne, the remorseless conqueror, Herodes Herode 
 ferocior, a crueller Herod than the Herod of old, had 
 laid waste the land and slaughtered the people. York 
 Minster had been destroyed by fire, and every church, 
 chapel, and religious house had been either destroyed 
 or plundered by the Normans. Everywhere the Saxon 
 patriots, after brief glimpses of success, had met with 
 defeat and extermination, save and except only in the 
 Camp of Refuge and the Isle of Ely ; and there too 
 misfortune had happened. Edwin and Morcar, the 
 sons of Alfgar, brothers-in-law to King Harold, and the 
 best and the bravest of the Saxon nobles, had quitted 
 the Camp of Refuge, that last asylum of Anglo-Saxon 
 independence, and had both perished. All men of 
 name and fame were perishing. The Saxon com- 
 monalty were stupefied with amazement and terror, — 
 Pavef actus est Populus. The Normans were making war 
 even upon the dead or upon the tombs of those who 
 had done honour to their country as patriots, warriors, 
 spiritual teachers, and saints. Frithric, the right- 
 hearted Abbat of St. Albans, had been driven from his 
 abbey with all his brethren ; and Paul, a young man 
 from Normandie and a reputed son of the intrusive 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 17 
 
 Archbishop Lanfranc^ had been thrust in his place. 
 And this Paul, as his first act in office, had demolished 
 the tombs of all his predecessors whom he called rude 
 and idiotic men, because they were of the English race ! 
 And next, this Paul had sent over into Normandie for 
 all his poor relations and friends — men ignorant of 
 letters and of depraved morals — and he was dividing 
 among this foul rapacious crew the woods and the 
 farms, all the possessions and all the offices of the 
 church and abbey of St. Albans. Crowland was 
 threatened with the same fate, and he, the abbat, 
 was sick and broken-hearted, and could oppose the 
 Normans only with prayers — with prayers to which, 
 on account of the sins of the nation, the blessed Virgin 
 and the saints were deaf. The brethren in the 
 succursal cell at Spalding must look to themselves, 
 for he, the abbat, could give them no succour ; and he 
 knew of a certainty that Ivo Taille-Bois had promised 
 the cell to some of his kith and kin in foreign parts. 
 
 The reading of this sad letter was interrupted by 
 many ejaculations and expressions of anger and horror, 
 grief and astonishment ; and when it was over, the 
 spirits of the community were so depressed that the 
 superior thought himself absolutely compelled to call 
 upon the cellarer and bid him fill the stoups again, 
 to the end that there might be another short Biberes. 
 When the monks had drunk in silence, and had 
 crossed themselves after the draught, they began to 
 ask each other what was to be done .'' for they no 
 longer doubted that Elfric had seen the forty men-at- 
 arms in the neighbom-hood, or that Ivo Taille-Bois 
 would be thundering at their gate in the morning. 
 Some proposed sending a messenger into Spalding 
 town, which was scarcely more than two good bow- 
 shots distant from the cell, lighting the beacon on the 
 
18 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 tower, and sounding all the blast-horns on the house- 
 top to summon the whole neighbourhood to their aid ; 
 but the superior bade them reflect that this would 
 attract the notice of Ivo Taille-Bois, and be considered 
 as an hostile defiance ; that the neighbourhood was 
 very thinly peopled by inexpert and timid serfs, and 
 that most of the good men of Spalding town who 
 possessed arms and the art of wielding them had 
 already taken their departure for the Camp of Refuge. 
 At last the superior said : 
 
 'We cannot attempt a resistance, for by means of a 
 few lighted arrows the children of Satan would set fire 
 to our upper works, and so burn our house over our 
 heads. We must subinit to the will of Heaven, and 
 endeavour to turn aside the wrath of our arch- 
 persecutor. Lucia, the wife of Ivo Taille-Bois, was 
 a high-born Saxon maiden when he seized upon her 
 (after slaying her friends), and made her his wife in 
 order to have the show of a title to the estates. As a 
 maiden Lucia was ever good and Saxon - hearted, 
 especially devout to our patron saint, and a passing 
 good friend and benefactress to this our humble cell. 
 She was fair among the daughters of men, fairest in a 
 land where the strangers themselves vouchsafe to say 
 that beauty and comeliness abound ; she may have 
 gotten some sway over the fierce mind of her husband, 
 and at her supplications Ivo may be made to forego 
 his wicked purposes. Let us send a missive to the 
 fair Lucia.' 
 
 Here Brother Cedric reminded Father Adhelm that 
 a letter would be of little use, inasmuch as the fair 
 Lucia could not read, and had nobody about her in 
 the manor-house that could help her in this particular. 
 
 'Well, then,' said the superior, 'let us send that 
 trusty and nimble messenger Elfric to the manor- 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 19 
 
 house, and let him do his best to get access to the 
 lady and acquaint her with our woes and fears. What 
 say est thou, good Elfric ? ' 
 
 Albeit the novice thought that he had been but 
 badly rewarded for his last service, he crossed his arms 
 on his breast, bowed his head, and said : 
 
 ' Obedience is my duty. I will adventure to the 
 manor-house, I will try to see the Lady Lucia, I will 
 go into the jaws of the monster, if it pleaseth your 
 reverence to command me so to do. But, if these 
 walls were all of stone and brick, I would rather stay 
 and fight behind them : for I trow that the fair Lucia 
 hath no more power over Ivo Taille-Bois than the 
 lamb hath over the wolf, or the sparrow over the 
 sparrow-hawk . ' 
 
 ' But,' said the superior, ' unless Heaven vouchsafe a 
 miracle, we have no other hope or chance than this. 
 Good Elfric, go to thy cell and refresh thyself with 
 sleep, for thou hast been a wayfarer through long and 
 miry roads, and needest rest. We too are weary men, 
 for we have read a very long letter and deliberated 
 long on weighty trying business, and the hour is 
 growing very late. Let us then all to bed, and at 
 earliest morning dawn, after complines, thou wilt gird 
 up thy loins and take thy staff in thine hand, and I 
 will tell thee how to bespeak the Lady Lucia, an thou 
 canst get to her presence. I will take counsel of my 
 pillow, and call upon the saints to inspire me with a 
 moving message that I shall send.' 
 
 Elfric humbly saluted the superior and all his elders 
 by name, wished them a holy night, and withdrew 
 from the refectory and hall to seek the rest which he 
 really needed ; but before entering his cell he went to 
 the house-top to look out at the broad moon, and the 
 wood, and the river, and the open country, intersected 
 
20 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 by deep cuts and ditches, which hiy in front of the 
 succursal cell. The night had become frosty, and the 
 moon and the stars were shining their brightest in a 
 transparent atmosphere. As the novice looked up the 
 course of the Welland he thought he distinguished 
 something afar off floating on the stream. He looked 
 ao-ain, and felt certain that a large boat was descending 
 the river towards the house. He remained silent and 
 almost breathless until the vessel came so near that he 
 was enabled to see that the boat was filled with 
 men-at-arms, all clad in mail, who held their lances in 
 their hands, and whose shields were fastened to the 
 sides of the boat, glittering in the moonlight. 
 
 ' I count forty and one lances and forty and one 
 shields,' said the youth to himself, 'but these good 
 friars will tell me that I have seen bulrushes and 
 willow-leaves.' 
 
 He closed his eyes for a time and then rubbed them 
 and looked out again. There was the boat, and there 
 were the lances and the shields and the men-at-arms, 
 only nearer and more distinct, for the current of the 
 river was rapid, and some noiseless oars or paddles 
 were at work to increase the speed without giving the 
 alarm. 
 
 ' I see what is in the wind,' thought Elfric ; ' the 
 Normans would surprise us and expel us by night, 
 without rousing the good people of Spalding town.' 
 
 He ran down the spiral staircase ; but, short as was 
 the time that he had been on the housetop, every 
 light had been extinguished in the hall during the 
 interval, every cell-door had been closed ; and a chorus 
 of loud snores that echoed along the corridor told him 
 that, maugre their troubles and alarms, all the monks, 
 novices, and lay-brothers were already fast asleep. 
 ' I will do what I can do,' said the youth, * for if I 
 
THESUCCURSALCELL 21 
 
 wake the superior he will do nothing. If the men of 
 Spalding town cannot rescue us, they shall at least be 
 witnesses to the wrongs put upon us. Nay, Gurth the 
 smith, and Wybert the wheelwright, and Nat the 
 weaver, and Leolf the woodsman, be brave-hearted 
 knaves, and have the trick of archery. From the yon 
 side of those ditches and trenches, which these heavy- 
 armed Normans cannot pass, perchance a hole or two 
 may be driven into their chain jerkins !' 
 
 Taking the largest horn in the house he again 
 ascended to the roof, and turning towards the little 
 town he blew with all his strength and skill, and kept 
 blowing until he was answered by three or four horns 
 in the town. By this time the boat was almost under 
 the walls of the monastery, and an arrow from it came 
 whistling close over the youth's head. 
 
 'There are neither battlements nor parapets here,' 
 said he, 'and it is now time to rouse the brethren.' 
 
 In a moment he was in the corridor rapping at the 
 doors of the several cells, wherein the monks slept on, 
 not hearing the blowing of the horns ; but before half 
 the inmates were roused from their deep slumber the 
 Normans had landed from the boat, and had come 
 round to the front of the house shouting : 
 
 'Taille-Bois ! Taille-Bois ! Notre Dame to our aid ! 
 and Taille-Bois to his own ! Get up, ye Saxon churls, 
 that be ever sleeping or eating, and make way for 
 better men ! ' 
 
 The superior forgot his gout and ran to the hall. 
 They all ran to the hall, friars, novices, lay-brothers, 
 and hinds, and lights were brought in and hurried 
 deliberations commenced, in which every one took 
 part. Although there was overmuch sloth, there was 
 little cowardice among these recluses. If there had 
 been any chance of making good the defence of the 
 
22 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 house, well I ween the major part of them would have 
 voted for resistance ; but chance there was none, and 
 therefore, with the exception of Elfric, whose courage, 
 at this time of his life, bordered on rashness, they all 
 finally agreed with the superior that the wisest things 
 to do would be to bid Hubert the portarius throw 
 open the gate and lower the bridge ; to assemble the 
 whole community in the chapel, light up all tapers on 
 the high altar and shrines, and chant the Libera Nos, 
 Domine — Good Eord, deliver us ! 
 
 ' It is not psalmody that will save us from expul- 
 sion,' thought Elfric. 
 
 Now Hubert the porter was too old and too much 
 disturbed in spirit to do all that he had to do without 
 help; and Father Cedric bade the sturdy novice go 
 and assist him. 
 
 ' May I die the death of a dog — may I be hanged 
 on a Norman gibbet,' said Elfric to himself, 'if I help 
 to open the gates to these midnight robbers ! ' 
 
 And instead of following Hubert down to the gate, 
 he went again (sine Abhatis licentid, without license or 
 knowledge of his superior) to the house-top, to see 
 whether any of the folk of Spalding town had ven- 
 tured to come nigh. As he got to the corner of the 
 roof from which he had blown the horn, he heard loud 
 and angry voices below, and curses and threats in 
 English and in Norman-French. And he saw about 
 a score of Spalding-men in their sheepskin jackets and 
 with bows and knives in their hands, menacing and 
 reviling the mail-clad men-at-arms. The Saxons soon 
 got themselves well covered from the foe by a broad 
 deep ditch, and by a bank ; but some of the Normans 
 had brought their bows with them, and a shaft let fly 
 at the right moment when one of the Saxons was 
 exposing his head and shoulders above the bank, took 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 23 
 
 effect, and was instantly followed by a wild scream or 
 yell: 
 
 ' Wybert is down ! Wybert is slain ! ' 
 
 ' Then this to avenge him, for Wybert was a good 
 man and true ' ; and Elfric, who had brought a bow 
 with him from the corridor, drew the string to his ear 
 and let fly an ari-ow which killed the Norman that had 
 killed Wybert the wright. It was the men-at-arms 
 who now yelled ; and, even as their comrade was in 
 the act of falling, a dozen more arrows came whistling 
 among them from behind the bank and made them 
 skip. 
 
 Ivo Taille-Bois lifted up his voice and shouted, 
 
 * Saxon churls, ye mean to befriend your faineant 
 monks ; but if ye draw another bow I will set fire to 
 the cell and grill them all ! ' 
 
 This was a terrible threat, and the poor men of 
 Spalding knew too well that Ivo could easily do that 
 which he threatened. The noise had reached the 
 chapel, where the superior was robing himself, and 
 Father Cedric came to the house-top to conjure the 
 Saxons to retire and leave the servants of the saints to 
 the protection of the saints. At the top of the spiral 
 staircase he found the novice with the bow in his 
 hand ; and he said unto him : 
 
 ' What dost thou here, et sine licentid } ' 
 
 ' I am killing Normans,' said Elfric ; ' but Wybert 
 the wright is slain, and the men of Spalding are losing 
 heart.' 
 
 ' Mad boy, get thee down, or we shall all be burned 
 alive. Go help Hubert unbar the gate and drop the 
 bridge.' 
 
 'That will I never, though I break my monastic 
 vow of obedience,' said the youth. ' But hark ! the 
 chain rattles ! — the bridge is down — the hinge creaks 
 
24 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 — by heaven ! the gate is open — Ivo Taille-Bois and 
 his devils are in the house ! Then is this no place 
 for me ! ' 
 
 And before the monk could check him, or say 
 another word to him, the novice rushed to the opposite 
 side and leaped from the roof into the deep moat. 
 Forgetting his mission — which was to conjure the 
 Saxons in the name of Father Adhelm the superior 
 of the house not to try the arms of the flesh, — old 
 Cedric followed to the spot whence the bold youth 
 had taken his spring, but before he got there Elfric 
 had swum the moat and was making fast for the 
 Welland, in the apparent intention of getting into the 
 fens beyond the river, where Norman pursuit after 
 him could be of no avail. The monk then went 
 towards the front of the building and addressed the 
 Saxons who still lingered behind the ditch and the 
 bank, bemoaning the fate of Wybert, and not knowing 
 what to do. Raising his voice so that they might hear 
 him, Cedric beseeched them to go back to their homes 
 in the town ; and he was talking words of peace unto 
 them when he was struck from behind by a heavy 
 Norman sword which cleft his cowl and his skull in 
 twain : and he fell over the edge of the wall into the 
 moat. Some of the men-at-arms had seen Elfric bend- 
 ing his bow on the house-top, and the Norman who 
 had been slain had pointed, while dying, in that 
 direction. After gaining access they had slain old 
 Hubert and the lay-brother who had assisted him in 
 lowering the drawbridge; and then, while the rest 
 rushed towards the chapel, two of the men-at-arms 
 found their way to the roof, and there seeing Cedric 
 they despatched him as the fatal archer and as the 
 daring monk who had blown the horn to call out the 
 men of Spalding. As Father Cedric fell into the 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 25 
 
 moat, and the Normans were seen in possession of 
 the cell, the men of Spalding withdrew, and carried 
 with them the body of Wybert. But if they withdrew 
 to their homes, it was but for a brief season and in 
 order to carry off their moveable goods and their 
 families ; for they all knew that Ivo Taille-Bois would 
 visit the town with fire and sword. Some fled across 
 the Welland and the fens to go in search of the Camp 
 of Refuge, and others took their way towards the wild 
 and lonesome shores of the Wash. 
 
 But how fared the brotherhood in the chapel below.'' 
 As Ivo Taille-Bois at the head of his men-at-arms 
 burst into the holy place — made holy by the relics of 
 more than one Saxon saint, and by the tomb and 
 imperishable body of a Saxon who had died a saint 
 and martyr at the hand of the Danish Pagans in the 
 old time, before the name of Normans was ever heard 
 of — the superior and friars, dressed in their stoles, as 
 if for high mass, and the novices and the lay-brothers, 
 were all chanting the Libera Nos ; and they seemed 
 not to be intimidated or disturbed by the flashing of 
 swords and lances, or by the sinful imprecations of 
 the invaders ; for still they stood where they were, 
 in the midst of tapers and flambards, as motionless 
 as the stone effigies of the saints in the niches of the 
 chapel ; and their eyes moved not from the books of 
 prayer, and their hands trembled not, and still they 
 chanted in the glorious strain of the Gregorian chant 
 (which Time had not mended). Libera Nos, Domitie ! 
 ' Good Lord, deliver us ! ' and when they had finished 
 the supplication, they struck up in a more cheerful 
 note, Deus Nosier llefugium, God is our Refuge. 
 
 Fierce and unrighteous man as he was, Ivo Taille- 
 Bois stood for a season on the threshold of the chapel 
 with his mailed elbow leaning on the font that held 
 
26 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the holy water ; and, as the monks chanted, some of 
 his men-at-arms crossed themselves and looked as if 
 they were conscious of doing unholy things which 
 ought not to be done. But when the superior glanced 
 at him a look of defiance, and the choir began to sing 
 Quid glonaris? 'Why boasteth thou thyself, thou 
 tyrant, that thou canst do mischief?' Ivo bit his lips, 
 raised up his voice — raised it higher than the voices 
 of the chanting monks, and said : 
 
 ' Sir Priest, or prior, come forth and account to the 
 servant of thy lawful King William of Normandie for 
 thy unlawful doings, for thy gluttonies, backslidings, 
 and rebellions, for thy uncleanliness of life and thy 
 disloyalty of heart ! ' 
 
 But Father Adhelm moved not, and still the monks 
 sang on : and they came to the versets — ' Thou hast 
 loved to speak all words that may do hurt ; oh ! thou 
 false tongue — therefore shall God destroy thee for 
 ever : He shall take thee and pluck thee out of thy 
 dwelling.' 
 
 ' False monk, I will first pluck thee out of thine,' 
 cried Ivo, who knew enough church Latin to know 
 what the Latin meant that the monks were chanting ; 
 and he strode across the chapel towards the superior, 
 and some of his men-at-arms strode hastily after him, 
 making the stone floor of the chapel ring with the 
 heavy tread of their iron-bound shoon ; and some of 
 the men-at-arms stood fast by the chapel door, playing 
 with the fingers of their gloves of mail and looking in 
 one another's eyes or down to the ground, as if they 
 liked not the work that Ivo had in hand. 
 
 The monks, the novices, the lay-brothers, all gathered 
 closely round their superior and linked their arms to- 
 gether so as to prevent Ivo from reaching him ; and 
 the superior, taking his crucifix of gold from his girdle. 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 27 
 
 and raising it high above his head and above the 
 heads of those who girded him in, and addressing 
 the Norman chief as an evil spirit, or as Sathanas 
 the father of all evil spirits, he bade him avaunt ! 
 Ivo had drawn his sword, but at the sight of the cross 
 he hesitated to strike, and even retired a few steps in 
 arrear. The monks renewed their chant ; nor stopped, 
 nor were interrupted by any of the Normans until 
 they had finished this Psalm. But when it was done 
 Ivo Taille-Bois roared out : 
 
 ' Friars, this is psalmody enough ! Men-at-arms, 
 your trumpets ! Sound the charge.' 
 
 And three Normans put each a trumpet to his lips 
 and sounded the charge ; which brought all the men- 
 at-arms careering against the monks and the novices 
 and the lay-brothers ; so that the living fence was 
 broken and some of the brethren were knocked down 
 and trampled under foot, and a path was opened for 
 Ivo, who first took the golden crucifix from the uplifted 
 hand of Fatlier Ad helm and put it round his own neck, 
 and then took the good father by the throat and bade 
 him come forth from the chapel into the hall, where 
 worldly business might be done without offering insult 
 or violence to the high altar. 
 
 ' I will first pour out the curses of the Church on 
 thy sacrilegious head,' said the superior, throwing off 
 the Norman count, and with so much strength that 
 Ivo reeled and would have fallen to the ground among 
 the prostrate monks, if he had not first fallen against 
 some of his men-at-arms. Father Adhelm broke away 
 from another Norman who clutched him, but in so 
 doing he left nearly all his upper garment in the 
 soldier's hand, and he was rent and ragged and with- 
 out his crucifix when he reached the steps of the altar 
 and began his malediction. 
 
28 THECAMPOF REFUGE 
 
 'Stop the shaveling's tongue, but shed no blood 
 here,' cried Ivo ; ' seize him, seize thein all, and bring 
 them into the refectory ! ' — and so saying the chief 
 rushed out of the chapel into the hall. 
 
 It was an unequal match — thirty-nine men-at-arms 
 against a few monks and boys and waiting men ; yet 
 before the superior could be dragged from the high 
 altar, and conveyed with all his community into the 
 hall, several of the Normans were made to measure 
 their length on the chapel floor (they could not 
 wrestle like our true Saxons), and some of them were 
 so squeezed within their mail sleeves and gorgets by 
 the grip of Saxon hands, that they bore away the 
 marks and smarts that lasted them many a day. It 
 was for this that one of them cut the weazen of the 
 sturdy old cook as soon as he got him outside the 
 chapel door, and that another of them cut off the ears 
 of the equally stout cellarer. 
 
 At last they were all conveyed, bound with their 
 cords or girdles, into the hall. The Taille-Bois, with 
 his naked sword in his hand, and with a man-at-arms 
 on either side of him, sat at the top of the hall in the 
 superior's chair of state ; and the superior and the 
 rest of the brotherhood were brought before him like 
 criminals. 
 
 ' Brother to the devil,' said Ivo, ' what was meant 
 by thy collecting of armed men — rebel and traitor 
 serfs that shall rue the deed ! — thy sounding of horns 
 on the house-top ; thy fighting monks that have killed 
 one of my best men-at-arms ; thy long delay in opening 
 thy doors to those who knocked at them in the name 
 of King William ; thy outrages in the chapel, and all 
 thy other iniquities which I have so oft-times pardoned 
 at the prayer of the Lady Lucia } Speak, friar, and 
 tell me why I should not hang thee over thine own 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 29 
 
 gateway as a terror and an example to all the other 
 Saxon monks in this country, who are all in their 
 hearts enemies and traitors to the good king that 
 God and victory have put over this land ! ' 
 
 Had it not been that Father Adhelm was out of 
 breath, from his -WTestling in the chapel, I wist he 
 never would have allowed Ivo Taille-Bois to speak so 
 long without interruption. But by the time the Nor- 
 man paused, the superior had partly recovered his 
 breath ; and he did not keep the Norman waiting for 
 his answer. 
 
 'Son of the fire everlasting,' cried Adhelm, 'it is 
 for me to ask what meanest thou by thy transgres- 
 sions, past and present.^ Why hast thou from thy 
 first coming among us never ceased from troubling me 
 and these other servants of the saints, the brothers 
 of this poor cell .'' Why hast thou seized upon and 
 emptied our granaries and our cellars (more the 
 possessions of the saints and of the poor than our 
 possessions) ? Why hast thou carried off the best of 
 our cattle ? Why hast thou and thy people lamed 
 our horses and our oxen, and killed our sheep and 
 poultry ? Why hast thou caused to be assailed on 
 the roads, and beaten with staves and swords, the 
 lay-brothers and servants of this house ? Why didst 
 thou come at the dead of night like a chief of robbers 
 with thy men-at-arms and cut-throats to break in upon 
 us and to wound and slay the servants of the Lord, 
 who have gotten thy king's peace, and letters of pro- 
 tection from the Archbishop Lanfranc ? O, Ivo Taille- 
 Bois ! tell me why thou shouldst not be overtaken by 
 the vengeance of man's law in this world, and by 
 eternal perdition in the next ? ' 
 
 Ivo was not naturally a man of many words ; and 
 thinking it best to cut the discussion short, he grinned 
 
30 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 a grim grin, and said in a calm and business-like tone 
 of voice : 
 
 ' Saxon ! we did not conquer thy country to leave 
 Saxons possessed of its best fruits. This house and 
 these wide domains are much too good for thee and 
 thine : I want them, and long have wanted them, to 
 bestow upon others. Wot ye not that I have beyond 
 the sea one brother and three cousins that have shaved 
 their crowns and taken to thy calling — that in Nor- 
 mandie, Anjou, and Maine there are many of my 
 kindred and friends who wear hoods and look to me 
 for provision and establishment in this land of ignor- 
 ance and heresy, where none of your home-dwelling 
 Saxon monks know how to make the tonsure in the 
 right shape ? ' 
 
 ' Woe to the land, and woe to the good Christian 
 people of it ! ' said the superior and several of his 
 monks ; ' it is then to be with us as with the brother- 
 hood of the great and holy abbey of St. Albans ! 
 We are to be driven forth empty-handed and broken- 
 hearted, and our places are to be supplied by rapaci- 
 ous foreigners who speak not and understand not the 
 tongue of the English people ! Ah woe ! was it for 
 this that Saxon saints and martyrs died and bequeathed 
 their bones to our keeping and their miracles to our 
 superintendence; that Saxon kings and queens de- 
 scended from their thrones to live among us, and 
 die among us, and enrich us, so that we might give 
 a beauty to holiness, a pomp and glory to the worship 
 of heaven, and ample alms, and still more ample em- 
 ployment to the poor ? Was it for this the great and 
 good men of our race, our thanes and our earls, be- 
 queathed lands and money to us } Was it to fatten 
 herds of alien monks, who follow in the bloody track 
 of conquest and devastation, and come among us with 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL 31 
 
 swords and staves, and clad in mail even like your 
 men-at-arms, that we and our predecessors in this 
 cell have laboured without intermission to drain these 
 bogs and fens, to make roads for the foot of man 
 through this miry wilderness, to cut broad channels 
 to carry off the waste waters to the great deep, to turn 
 quagmires into bounteous corn-fields, and meres into 
 green pastures ? ' 
 
 While the Saxon monks thus delivered themselves, 
 Ivo and his Normans (or such of them as could under- 
 stand what was said) ofttimes interrupted them, and 
 spoke in this wise : 
 
 ' King William hath the sanction of his holiness 
 the Pope for all that he hath done or doth. Lanfranc 
 loveth not Saxon priests and monks, and Saxon priests 
 and monks love not the king nor any of the Normans, 
 but are ever privately preaching and prating about 
 Harold and Edgar Etheling, and putting evil designs 
 into the heads of the people. The Saxon saints are 
 no saints : who ever heard their names beyond sea .'' 
 Their half-pagan kings and nobles have heaped wealth 
 here and elsewhere that generous Norman knights and 
 better bred Norman monks might have the enjoyment 
 of it. The nest is too good for these foul birds : we 
 have better birds to put into it. Let us then turn 
 these Englishers out of doors.' 
 
 The last evil deed was speedily done, and superior, 
 monks, novices, lay-brothers, were all thrust out of 
 the gateway, and driven across the bridge. If the 
 well-directed arrow of Elfric had slain one man-at- 
 arms and the folk of Spalding town had slightly 
 wounded two or three others, the Normans had killed 
 Father Cedric, Hubert the porter, and the man that 
 assisted him, had killed the cook, and cut off the ears 
 of the cellarer. The conquerors, therefore, sought to 
 
32 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 shed no more blood, and the Taille-Bois was satisfied 
 when he saw the brotherhood dispossessed and turned 
 out upon the wide world with nothing they could call 
 their own, except the sandals on their feet, and the 
 torn clothes on their backs, and two or three church 
 books. When a little beyond the moat they all shook 
 the dust from their feet against the sons of the ever- 
 lasting fire ; and the superior, leisurely and in a low 
 tone of voice, finished the malediction which he had 
 begun in the chapel against Ivo Taille-Bois. This 
 being over. Father Adhelm counted his little flock 
 and said : 
 
 ' But oh, my children, where is the good Cedric ? ' 
 
 ' Cedric was killed on the house-top, and lies dead 
 in the moat,' said one of the lay-brothers who had 
 learned his fate when the rest of the community were 
 ignorant of it. 
 
 ' Peace to his soul, and woe to him that slew him ! ' 
 said the superior ; ' but where is Elfric .^ I see not 
 the brave boy Elfric' 
 
 * I saw Elfric outside the walls of our house and 
 running for the Welland, just as the Normans were 
 admitted,' said the lay-brother who had before spoken, 
 ' and it must have been he that sent the arrow through 
 the brain of the man-at-arms that lies there on the 
 green sward.' 
 
 ' He will send his arrows through the brains of many 
 more of them,' said the superior. ' My children, I feel 
 the spirit of prophecy speaking within me, and I tell 
 ye all that Elfric, our whilom novice, will live to do 
 or cause to be done more mischief to the oppressors 
 of his country than all the chiefs that have taken up 
 arms against them. He hath a head to plan, and a 
 heart to dare, and a strong hand to execute. I know 
 the course he will take. He will return to the Isle of 
 
THE SUCCURSAL CELL S3 
 
 Ely, the place of his birth, in the midst of the many 
 waters, and throw himself into the Camp of Refuge, 
 where the Saxon motto is " Death or Indepen- 
 dence. " ' 
 
 Before moving to the near bank of the Welland, or 
 to the spot to which the Normans had sent doAvn the 
 ferry-boat. Father Adhelm again counted his little 
 flock, and said, ' Cedric lies dead in the moat, Hubert 
 and Bracho lie cold under the archway, Elfric the 
 novice is fled to be a thorn in the sides of these 
 Normans, but, oh tell me ! where is good Oswald the 
 cook ? ' 
 
 'After they had dragged your reverence into the 
 hall, a man-at-arms cut his throat, even as Oswald 
 used to cut the throats of swine, and he lies dead by 
 the chapel-door.' 
 
 ' Misericordia ! (O mercy on us !) Go where we will, 
 we shall never find so good a cook again ! ' 
 
 Although it seemed but doubtful where or when 
 they should find material for another meal the afflicted 
 community repeated the superior's alacks and miseri- 
 cordias ! mourning the loss of old Oswald as a man 
 and as a Saxon, but still more as the best of cooks. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 
 
 Islands made by the sea, and yet more islands, inland, 
 by rivers, lakes, and meres, have in many places ceased 
 to be islands in everything save only in name. The 
 changes are brought about by time and the fluctua- 
 tions of nature, or by the industry and perseverance 
 of man. 
 
 We, the monks of Ely that now live (Henrico Secun- 
 do regnante), have witnessed sundry great changes in 
 the Fen Country, and more changes be now contem- 
 plated ; in sort that in some future age, men may find 
 it hard to conceive, from that which they see in their 
 day, the manner of country the Fen country was 
 when the Normans first came among us. Then, I 
 wist, the Isle of Ely was to all intents an inland 
 island, being surrounded on every side by lakes, meres 
 and broad rivers, which became still broader in the 
 season of rain, there being few artificial embankments 
 to confine them, and few or no droves or cuts to carry 
 off the increase of water towards the Wash and the 
 sea. The isle had its name from Helig or Elig, a 
 British name for the Willow, which grew in great 
 abundance in every part of it, and which formed in 
 many parts low but almost impenetrable forests, with 
 marshes and quagmires under them, or within them. 
 Within the compass of the waters, which marked the 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 35 
 
 limits of the country, and isolated it from the neigh- 
 bouring countries — which also from south to north, 
 for the length of well-nigh one hundred miles, and 
 from east to west, for the breadth of well-nigh forty 
 miles, were a succession of inland islands, formed like 
 Ely itself — there were numerous meres, marshes, 
 rivers, and brooks. The whole isle was almost a 
 dead flat, with hei-e and there an inconsiderable 
 eminence standing up from it. These heights Avere 
 often surrounded by water; and when the autumnal 
 or the sprii^g rains swelled the meres and streams, 
 and covered the flats, they formed so many detached 
 islets. Though surrounded and isolated, they were 
 never covered by water ; therefore it was upon these 
 heights and knolls that men in all times had built 
 their towns, and their churches and temples. Com- 
 munications were kept up by means of boats, carricks, 
 and skerries, and of flat-bottomed boats which could 
 float in shallow water ; and, save in the beds of the 
 rivers, and in some of the meres, the waters were but 
 shallow even in the season of rains. But if it was a 
 miry, it was not altogether a hungry land. When the 
 waters subsided, the greenest and richest pasture 
 sprung up in many parts of the plain, and gave 
 sustenance to innumerable herds. The alluvial soil 
 was almost everywhere rich and productive ; and the 
 patches which had been drained and secured re- 
 warded the industry and ingenuity of the inhabitants 
 with abundant crops. The Roman conquerors, with 
 amazing difficulty, had driven one of their military 
 roads through the heart of the country ; but this 
 noble causeway was an undeviating straight line, 
 without any branches or cross roads springing from 
 it ; and it was so flanked in nearly its whole extent 
 by meres, pools, rivers, rivulets, swamps, and willow 
 
36 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 forests, that a movement to the one side or the other 
 •was almost impracticable, unless the Romans, or those 
 who succeeded the conquerors in the use of the cause- 
 way, embarked in boats and travelled like the natives 
 of the country. In all times it had been a land of 
 refuge against invaders. In the days of Rome the 
 ancient Britons rallied here, and made a good stand 
 after all the rest of England had been subdued. Again, 
 when Rome was falling fast to ruin, and the legions of 
 the empire had left the Britons to take care of them- 
 selves, that people assembled here in great numbers 
 to resist the fierce Saxon invaders. Again, when the 
 Saxons were assailed by the Danes and Norwegians, 
 and the whole host of Scandinavian rovers and pirates, 
 the indwellers of the Isle of Ely, after enjoying a long 
 exemption from the havoc of war and invasion, defied 
 the bloody Dane, and maintained a long contest with 
 him ; and now, as at earlier periods, and as at a later 
 date, the isle of Ely became a place of refuge to many 
 of the people of the upland country, and of other and 
 more open parts of England, where it had not been 
 found possible to resist the Danish battle-axes. The 
 traditions of the ancient Britons had passed away 
 with that unhappy and extinct race ; but the whole 
 fenny country was full of Saxon traditions, and stories 
 of the days of trouble when war raged over the isle, 
 and the fierce Danes found their way up the rivers, 
 which opened upon the sea, into the very heart of the 
 country. The saints and martyrs of the district were 
 chiefly brave Saxons who had fought the Danes in 
 many battles, and who had fallen at last under the 
 swords of the unconverted heathen. The miracles 
 that were wrought in the land of many waters were 
 for the most part wrought at the tombs of these Saxon 
 warriors. The legends of patriotism were blended 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 37 
 
 with the legends and rites of rehgion. Every church 
 had its patriot saint and martyr : in every rehgious 
 house the monks related the prowess, and chanted 
 daily requiems, and said frequent masses for the soul 
 of some great Saxon warrior who had fallen in battle ; 
 or for some fair Saxon maid or matron, who had pre- 
 ferred torture and death to a union with a pagan ; or 
 for some Saxon queen or princess, who, long before the 
 coming of the Danes, and at the first preaching of the 
 Gospel among the Saxons by Saint Augustine and his 
 blessed followers, had renounced a thi'one and all the 
 grandeurs and pleasures of the world, and all her 
 riches (reliclis J'orlunis omnihiis /), to devote herself 
 to the service of heaven, to found a monastery, and 
 to be herself the first lady abbess of the monastery 
 she founded. 
 
 The foremost and most conspicuous of all the heights 
 in this fen country was crowned by the abbey and 
 conventual house of Ely, around which a large town, 
 entirely governed by the Lord Abbat (or, in the Lord 
 Abbat's name, by the Cellarius of the abbey), had 
 grown. The fii'st conventual church was founded in 
 the time of the Heptarchy, about the year of our Lord 
 six hundred and seventy, by Saint Etheldreda, a queen, 
 wife, virgin, and saint. Etheldreda was wife to King 
 Egfrid, the greatest of the Saxon kings, and daughter 
 of Anna, king of the East Angles, whose dominions 
 included the Isle of Ely, and extended over the whole 
 of Suffolk and Norfolk. This the first abbey church 
 was built by Saint Wilfrid, bishop of York, who, with 
 his sainted companion, Benedict, bishop of North- 
 umberland, had travelled in far countries to learn 
 their arts, and had brought from Rome into England 
 painted glass, and glaziers, and masons, and all manner 
 of artificers. When the chui'ch was finished, a mon- 
 
38 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 astery was built and attached to it by the same royal 
 devotee. Neither the love of her husband nor any 
 other consideration could make Etheldreda forego her 
 fixed purpose of immuring herself in the cloisters. 
 Many of her attached servants of both sexes, whom 
 she had converted, followed her to Ely, and were pro- 
 vided with separate and appropriate lodgings. Ethel- 
 dreda was the first abbess of Ely ; and after many 
 years spent in the exercise of devotion, in fasting, 
 penitence and prayer, she died with so strong an odour 
 of sanctity that it could not be mistaken ; and she was 
 canonised foi-thwith by the Pope at Rome. Some of 
 her servants were beatified : one, the best and oldest 
 of them all, Ovin, who was said to descend from the 
 ancient Britons, and who had been minister to her 
 husband the king, or to herself as queen, was canonised 
 soon after his death. Huna, her chaplain, after assist- 
 ing at her intei'ment, retired to a small island in the 
 Fens near Ely, where he spent the rest of his days as 
 an anchorite, and died with the reputation of a saint. 
 Many sick resorted to Huna's grave and recovered 
 health. Her sister Sexburga was the second abbess 
 of Ely, and second only to herself in sanctity. She 
 too was canonised ; and so also were her successors the 
 abbesses Ermenilda and Withburga. The bodies of all 
 the four lay in the choir of the church. The house 
 had had many good penmen, and yet it was said that 
 they had failed to record all the miracles that had been 
 wrought at these tombs. But the holiness of the place 
 had not always secured it. In or about the year 870 
 the unbelieving Danes, by ascending the Ouse, got 
 unto Ely, slew all the monks and nuns, and plundered 
 and destroyed the abbey. And after this, Saxon kings, 
 no better than heathens, annexed all the lands and 
 revenues of the house to the crown, to spend among 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 39 
 
 courtiers and warriors the substance which Saint 
 Ermenilda and the other benefactors of the abbey had 
 destined to the support of peace-preaching monks, and 
 to the sustenance of the poor. And thus fared it with 
 the abbey of Ely, until the reign of the great and 
 bountiful King Edgar, who in course of his reign 
 founded or restored no fewer than fifty monasteries. 
 In the year 970 this ever-to-be-revered king (Rex 
 Veneraiidus) granted the whole of the island of Ely, 
 with all its appurtenances, privileges, and immunities, 
 to Ethelwald, bishop of Winchester, who rebuilt the 
 church and the monastery, and provided them well 
 with monks of the Benedictine order. The charter of 
 Edgar, as was recorded by that king's scribe in the 
 preamble to it, was granted 'not privately and in a 
 corner, but in the most public manner, and under the 
 canopy of heaven.' The charter was confirmed by 
 other kings, and subsequently by the Pope. The great 
 and converted Danish King Canute, who loved to glide 
 along the waters of the river and listen to the monks 
 of Ely singing in their choir, and who ofttimes visited 
 the Lord Abbat, and feasted with him at the seasons 
 of the great festivals of the Church, confirmed the 
 charter ; and the cartularies of the house contained like- 
 wise the confirmation of King Edward the Confessor, 
 now a saint and king in heaven {in ccelo sandus et rex). 
 Theoretical and fabulous are the tales of those who 
 say that the Saxons had no majestic architecture ; that 
 their churches and abbeys and monasteries were built 
 almost entirely of wood, without arches or columns, 
 without aisles or cloisters ; and that there was no 
 grandeur or beauty in the edifices of England until 
 after the Norman conquest. The abbey built at Ely 
 in the tenth century by the Saxon bishop Ethelwald 
 was a stately stone edifice, vast in its dimensions, and 
 
40 THE CAxMP OF REFUGE 
 
 richly ornamented in its details. Round-headed arches 
 rested upon rows of massive columns ; the roof of the 
 church and the roof of the great hall of the abbey were 
 arched and towering ; and, high above all, a tower and 
 steeple shot into the air, to serve as a landmark 
 throughout the flat fenny country, and a guide to such 
 as might lose themselves among the meres and the 
 labyrinths of the willow forests. If the monks of Ely 
 were lords of all the country and of all the people 
 dwelling in it, those people and all honest wayfarers 
 ever found the hospitable gates of the abbey open to 
 receive them ; and all comers were feasted, according 
 to their several degrees, by the Lord Abbat, the prior, 
 the cellarer, the hospitaller, the pietancer, or some 
 other officer of the house. Twenty knights, with their 
 twenty squires to carry arms and shield (anna ac scuta), 
 did service to the Lord Abbat as his military retainers ; 
 and in his great stables room was left for many more 
 horses. The house had had many noble, hospitable, 
 Saxon-hearted heads, but never one more munificent 
 and magnificent than the Abbat Thurstan. He had 
 been appointed to the dignity in the peaceful days of 
 Edward the Confessor ; but King Harold, on ascending 
 the throne, had shown him many favours, and had 
 given him the means of being still more generous. 
 This last of our Saxon kings had begun his reign with 
 great popularity, being accessible, affable, and cour- 
 teous to all men, and displaying a great regard for 
 piety and justice. In the Confessor's time, under the 
 title of earl, he had ruled as a sovereign in Norfolk 
 and Suffolk and part of Cambridge, and he was a 
 native of East Anglia. He had been open-handed and 
 open-hearted. From all these reasons the people of 
 this part of England were singularly devoted to his 
 cause, and so thoroughly devoted to his person that 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 41 
 
 they would not for a very long time believe that he 
 had perished in the battle of Hastings ; their hope and 
 belief being that he had only been wounded, and would 
 soon re-appear among them to lead them against the 
 Norman. 
 
 When Duke William had been crowned in West- 
 minster Abbey, and when his constantly reinforced 
 and increasing armies had spread over the country, 
 many of the great Saxon heads of religious houses, 
 even like the Abbot of Crowland, had sent in their 
 submission, and Ivid obtained the king's peace, in the 
 vain hope that thus they would be allowed to retain 
 their places and dignities, and preserve their brethren 
 from persecution, and the foundations over which they 
 presided from the hands of foreign spoilers and intru- 
 ders. Not so Thurstan, my Lord Abbat of Ely. He 
 would not forget the many obligations he owed, and 
 the friendship and fealty he had sworn, to the gener- 
 ous, lion-hearted Harold ; and while the lands of other 
 prelates and abbats lay open everywhere to the fierce 
 Norman cavalry, and their hinds and serfs, their armed 
 retainers and tenants, and all the people dwelling near 
 them were without heart or hope, and impressed with 
 the belief that the Normans were invincible, Thurstan, 
 from the window of the hall, or from the top of the 
 abbey tower, looked across a wide expanse of country 
 which nature had made defensible ; and he knew that 
 he was backed by a stout-hearted and devoted people, 
 who would choke up the rivers with the dead bodies 
 of the Normans, and with their own corpses, ere they 
 would allow the invaders to reach the abbey of Ely 
 and the shrine of Saint Etheldreda. Hence, Thurstan 
 had been emboldened to give shelter to such English 
 lords, and such persecuted Saxons of whatsoever de- 
 gree, as fled from the oppression of the conquerors to 
 
42 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the isle of Ely. Thanes dispossessed of their lands, 
 bishops deprived of their mitres, abbats driven from 
 their monasteries to make room for foreigners, all 
 flocked hither ; and whether they brought much money 
 or rich jewels with them, or whether they brought 
 nothing at all, they all met with a hospitable reception; 
 so large and English was the heart of Abbat Thurstan. 
 When it was seen that William was breaking all the 
 old and free Saxon institutions, and the mild and 
 equitable laws of Edward the Confessor, which he had 
 most solemnly sworn to preserve and inaintain ; that 
 the promptest submission to the conqueror ensured no 
 lasting safety to life or property ; and that the Nor- 
 mans, one and all, laity and clergy, knights and bishops, 
 were proclaiming that all men of Saxon blood ought to 
 be disseised of their property, and ought to be reduced 
 to servitude and bondage, and were acting as if this 
 system could soon be established, more and more fugi- 
 tives came flying into the fen country. The town of 
 Ely was i*oomy, but it was crowded ; vast were the 
 monastery, and hospitium, and dependencies, but they 
 were crowded also : and far and near, on the dry hill- 
 ocks, and in the green plains fenced from the waters, 
 were seen huts and rude tents, and the blue smoke of 
 many fires rising above the grey willows and alders. 
 
 It were long to tell how many chiefs and nobles 
 of fame, and how many churchmen of the highest 
 dignity, assembled at dinner-time, and at supper-time, 
 in my Lord Abbat's great hall, where each had his 
 seat according to his rank, and where the arms of 
 every great chief were hung behind him on the wall, 
 and where the banner of every chief and noble floated 
 over his head, pendant from the groined roof. All 
 the bravest and most faithful of the Saxon warriors 
 who had survived the carnage of Hastings, and of the 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 43 
 
 many battles which had been fought since that of 
 Hastings^ were here ; and in the bodies of these men, 
 scarred with the wounds inflicted by the Norman 
 lances, flowed the most ancient and noble blood of 
 England. They had been thanes and earls, and owners 
 of vast estates, but now they nearly all depended for 
 their bread on the Lord Abbat of Ely. Stigand, the 
 dispossessed Saxon Primate of all England, was here ; 
 Egelwin, the dispossessed Saxon Bishop of Durham, 
 was here ; Alexander, Bishop of Lincoln, was here ; 
 and on one side of Alexander sat the good Bishop of 
 Lindisfarn, while on the other side of him the pious 
 Bishop of Winchester ate the bread of dependence and 
 sorrow. Among the chiefs of great religious houses 
 were Eghelnoth, the Abbat of Glastonbuiy, and 
 Frithric the most steadfast and most Saxon-hearted of 
 all Lord Abbats. A very hard man, an unlettered, 
 newly-emancipated serf, from one of the hungriest 
 parts of Normandie or Maine, had taken possession of 
 the great house at Glastonbury, and had caused the 
 bodies of his predecessors, the abbats of English race, 
 to be disinterred ; and, gathering their bones together, 
 he had cast them in one heap without the gates, as if, 
 instead of being the bones of holy and beatified 
 monks, they had been the bones of sheep, or oxen, or 
 some unclean animals. Fi'ithric of Saint Albans, who 
 had been spiritual and temporal lord of one of the fair- 
 est parts of England, of nearly all the woodland and 
 meadow-land and corn-fields that lay between Saint 
 Albans and Barnet on the one side, and between Luton 
 and Saint Albans on the other side — Frithric, who had 
 maintained one score and ten loaf-eaters or serving- 
 men in his glorious abbey, had wandered alone and 
 unattended through the wilds and the fens, begging 
 his way and concealing himself from Norman pursuit 
 
44 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 in the huts of the poorest men ; and he had brought 
 nothing with him to Ely save two holy books which 
 had comforted him on his long wayfaring, and which 
 he carried under his arm. Every great house was 
 wanted by the conquerors for their unecclesiastical 
 kindred ; but Saint Albans was one of the greatest of 
 them all, and Frithric had done that which the Normans 
 and their duke would never forgive. When, months 
 after that great assize of God's judgment in battle, the 
 battle of Hastings (and after that the traitorous Saxon 
 Witan, assembled in London, had sent a submissive 
 deputation to William the Bastard at Berkhamstead to 
 swear allegiance to him, and to put hostages into his 
 hand), the Normans were slaying the people, and 
 plundering and burning the towns and villages, upon 
 drawing nigh unto Saint Albans, they found their pas- 
 sage stopped by a multitude of great trees which had 
 been felled and laid across the road, and behind which 
 — if there had not been traitors in London and false 
 Saxons everywhere — there would have been posted 
 expert archers, and valorous knights and hardy yeomen, 
 and nathless every monk, novice, lay-brother, and hind 
 of the abbey, in such sort that the invaders and their 
 war-horses would never have gotten over those barri- 
 cades of forest trees, nor have ever ascended the hill 
 where the great saint and martyr Albanus suffered his 
 martyrdom in the days of the Diocletian persecution, 
 and where Offa the true Saxon king of Mercia erected 
 the first church and the first great monastery for one 
 hundred monks, that they might keep alive the 
 memory of the just, and pray over his tomb seven 
 times a-day. Wrathful was Duke William ; for, albeit 
 none stood behind those ramparts of timber to smite 
 him and his host, he could not win forward, nor enter 
 the town, nor approach the abbey, until his men-at- 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 45 
 
 arms and the followers of his camp should with long 
 toil clear the road, and remove one after the other 
 those stout barriers of forest trees. Red was he in 
 the face as a burning coal when he summoned to his 
 presence Frithric the Lord Abbat, and demanded 
 whose work it was, and why these oaken barriers were 
 raised in the jurisdiction of the monastery. Abbat 
 Frithric, whose heart was stouter than his own oaks, 
 looked, as became the free descendant of Saxon 
 thanes and Danish princes, right into the eyes of 
 the conqueror, and said unto him in a loud voice : 
 
 ' I have done the duty appertaining to my birth and 
 calling; and if others of my rank and profession had 
 performed the like, as they well could and ought, it 
 had not been in thy power to penetrate into the land 
 thus far ! ' 
 
 We have said his voice was loud when he spoke to 
 the conqueror : it Avas so loud that the hills re-echoed 
 it, and that men heard it that were hid in the woods 
 to watch what the Normans would do, and avoid their 
 fury ; and when the echoes of that true Saxon voice 
 died away, the thick growing oaks seemed to speak, 
 for there came voices from the woods on either side 
 the road, shouting, ' Hail ! all hail 1 Lord Frithric, our 
 true Lord Abbat ! If every Saxon lord had been true 
 as he, Harold would now be king ! ' 
 
 Quoth Duke William, in an angered voice, ' Is the 
 spirituality of England of such power } If I may live 
 and enjoy that which I have gotten, I will make their 
 power less ; and especially I mind to begin with thee, 
 proud Abbat of St. Albans ! ' 
 
 And how behaved Abbat Frithric when his domains 
 were seized, and ill-shaven foreign monks thrust into 
 his house, and savage foreign soldiers ? — when, after 
 that the conqueror had sworn upon all the relics of 
 
46 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the church of St. Albans, and by the Holy Gospels, 
 to respect the abbey and all churches, and to preserve 
 inviolate the good and ancient laws which had been 
 established by the pious kings of England, and more 
 especially by King Edward the Confessor, he allowed 
 his Normans to kill the Saxon people without bot or 
 compensation, plundered every church in the land, 
 oppressed and despoiled all the abbeys, ploughed with 
 ploughshares of red hot iron over the faces of all 
 Saxons, and yet demanded from Frithric and his 
 compeers a new oath of allegiance, and fuller securities 
 for his obedience — what then did the Lord Abbat of 
 Saint Albans ? He assembled all his monks and 
 novices in the hall of the chapter, and taking a 
 tender farewell of them, he said, 'My brothers, my 
 children, the time is come when, according to Scrip- 
 ture, I must flee from city to city before the face of 
 our persecutors — Fiigiendum est a facie persequentium 
 a civitate i?i civifatem.' And rather than be forsworn, 
 or desert the good cause, or witness without the power 
 of remedying them the sufferings and humiliations 
 and forcible expulsions of his monks, he went forth 
 and became a wanderer as aforesaid, imtil he crossed 
 the land of willows and many waters, and came unto 
 Ely, a lone man, with nought but his missal and his 
 breviary under his arna. Now the Abbat Frithric 
 was old when these years of trouble began ; and 
 constant grief and toil, and the discomforts of his long 
 journey on foot from the dry sunny hill of Saint 
 Albans to the fens and morasses of Ely, had given 
 many a rude shake to the hour-glass of his life. 
 Since his arrival at Ely he had wasted away daily : 
 every time that he appeared in the hall or refectoiy, 
 he seemed more and more haggard and worn : most 
 men saw that he was dying, but none saw it so clearly 
 
THE GREAT HOUSE AT ELY 47 
 
 as himself. When the young and hopeful would say 
 to him : 
 
 ' Lord Frithrie, these evil days will pass away, the 
 Saxons will get their own again, and thou wilt get 
 back as a true Saxon to thine own abbey/ he would 
 reply : 
 
 ' Young men, England will be England again, but 
 not in my day ; my next move is to the grave : Saint 
 Albans is a heavenly place, but it is still upon earth, 
 and, save the one hope that my country may revive, 
 and that the laws and manners and the tongue of 
 the Saxons may not utterly perish, my hopes are all 
 in heaven ! ' 
 
 Some of the best and wisest of those who had 
 sought for refuge in the isle of Ely feared that when 
 this bright guiding light should be put out, and other 
 old patriots, like the Abbat Frithrie, should take 
 their departure, the spirit which animated this Saxon 
 league would depart also, or gradually cool and 
 decline. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 
 
 It was on a wet evening in autumn, as the rain was 
 descending in torrents upon swamps that seemed to 
 have collected all the rains that had been falling 
 since the departure of summer, and just as the monks 
 of Ely were singing the Ave Maria {Duke canlaverunt 
 Monachi in Ely .') that Elfric, the whilom novice of 
 Spalding, surrounded by some of the Lord Abbat's 
 people, and many of the town folk, who were all 
 laughing and twitching at his cloak, arrived at the 
 gate of the hospitium. Our Lord Abbat Frithric 
 had brought with him two holy books. Elfric, our 
 novice, had brought with him two grim Norman 
 heads, for he had not been idle on the road, but had 
 surprised and killed, on the borders of the fen country, 
 first one man-at-arms, and then another ; and the 
 good folk of Ely were twitching at his mantle in 
 order that they might see again the trophies which 
 he carried under his broad sleeve. At his first coming 
 to the well-guarded ford across the Ouse, the youth 
 had made himself known. Was he not the youngest 
 son of Goodman Hugh, who dwelt aforetime by Saint 
 Ovin's Cross, hard by the village of Haddenham, and 
 only a few bow-shot from the good town of Ely. And 
 when the Saxons had seen the two savage Norman 
 heads, and had looked in the youth's face, the elders 
 
 48 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 49 
 
 declared that he was the very effigies of the Goodman 
 Hugh; and some of the younkers said that, albeit 
 his crown was shorn, and his eye not so merry as it 
 was, they recalled his face well, and eke the days 
 when Elfric the son of Goodman Hugh played at 
 boAvls with them in the bowling-alley of Ely, and 
 bobbed for eels with them in the river, and went 
 out with them to snare wild water-fowl in the fens. 
 Judge, therefore, if he met not with an hospitable 
 reception from town and gown, from the good folk 
 of Ely, and from all the monks ! 
 
 So soon as Elfric had refreshed himself in the 
 hospitium, he was called to the presence of Abbat 
 Thurstan, and in truth to the presence of all the 
 abbat's noble and reverend guests, for Thurstan was 
 seated in his great hall, where the servitors were 
 preparing for the supper. Elfric would have taken 
 his trophies with him, but the loaf-man who brought 
 the message doubted whether the abbat Avould relish 
 the sight of dead men's heads close afore suppertime, 
 and told him that his prowess was already known ; 
 and so Elfric proceeded without his trophies to the 
 great hall, where he was Avelcomed by the noble 
 company like another David that had slain two 
 Goliaths. When he had told the story of Ivo Taille- 
 Bois's long persecution and night attack, and his 
 own flight and journey, and had answered numerous 
 questions put to him by the grave assembly, Abbat 
 Thurstan asked him whether he knew what had 
 happened at Spalding since his departure, and what 
 had become of Father Adhelm and his monks, and 
 what fate had befallen the good Abbat of Crowland. 
 
 ' After my flight from the succursal cell/ said the 
 youth, ' I dwelt for a short season at Crowland, hidden 
 in the township, or in Deeping-fen, whither also came 
 
 D 
 
50 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 unto the abbey Father Adhelm and the i-est of that 
 brotherhood of Spalding ; and there we learned how 
 Ivo Taille-Bois had sent over to his own country to 
 tell his kinsmen that he had to offer them a good 
 house, convenient for a prior and five friars, ready 
 built, ready furnished and well provided with lands 
 and tenements ; and how these heretical and unsound 
 Norman monks were hastening to cross the Channel 
 and take possession of the succursal cell at Spalding. 
 My Lord Abbat of Crowland, having what they call 
 the king's peace, and holding the letters of protection 
 granted by Lanfranc ' 
 
 ' They will protect no man of Saxon blood, and the 
 priest or monk that accepts them deserves excom- 
 munication,' said Frithric, the Abbat of Saint Albans. 
 
 ' Amen ! ' said Elfric ; ' but our Abbat of Crowland, 
 relying upon these hollow and rotten reeds, laid his 
 complaints before the king's council at that time 
 assembled near unto Peterborough, and sought redress 
 and restitution. But the Normans sitting in council 
 not only refused redress and absolved Taille-Bois, but 
 also praised him for what he had done in the way of 
 extortion, pillage, sacrilege, and murder ; and ' 
 
 ' My once wise brother thy Abbat of Crowland 
 ought to have known all this beforehand,' said the 
 Abbat of St. Albans ; ' for do not these foreigners all 
 support and cover one another, and form a close 
 league, bearing one upon another, even as on the body 
 of the old dragon scale is laid over scale .'' ' 
 
 'Sic est, my Lord Abbat,' said the youth, bowing 
 reverentially to the dignitary of the Church and the 
 best of Saxon patriots, ' so is it, my lord ! and dragons 
 and devils are these Normans all ! Scarcely had the 
 decision of the king's council reached our house at 
 Crowland, ere it was surrounded by armed men, and 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 51 
 
 burst open at the dead of night, as our poor cell at 
 Spalding had been, and Father Adhelm and all those 
 who had lived under his rule at Spalding, were driven 
 out as disturbers of the king's peace ! I should have 
 come hither sooner, but those to whom my obedience 
 w^as due begged me to tarry awhile. Now I am only 
 the forerunner of Father Adhelm and his brethren, 
 and of my Lord Abbat of Crowland himself ; for the 
 abbat can no longer bear the wrongs that are put upon 
 him, and can see no hope upon earth, and no resting- 
 place in broad England, except in the Camp of Refuge.' 
 
 ' Another abbat an outcast and a wanderer ! This 
 spacious house will be all too full of Saxon abbats and 
 bishops; but I shall make room for this new comer,' 
 said Frithric of St. Albans to Egelwin, Bishop of 
 Durham. 
 
 Divers of the monks of Ely, and specialiter the 
 chamberlain, who kept the accounts of the house, and 
 the cellarer, who knew the daily drain made on the 
 winebutts, looked blank at this announcement of more 
 guests ; but the bounteous and big-hearted Abbat of 
 Ely said, ' Our brother of Crowland, and Father 
 Adhelm of Spalding, shall be welcome here — yea, and 
 all they may bring with them ; but tell me, O youth, 
 are they near at hand, or afar off in the wilderness .'' ' 
 
 ' The feet of age travel not so fast as the feet of 
 youth,' said Elfric ; ' age thinks, youth runs. I wot 
 I was at Ramsey mere before they got to the Isle of 
 Thorney, and crossed the Ouse before they came to 
 the Nene, but as, by the blessing of the saints,' and 
 the youth might have said, in consequence of exercise 
 and low living, ' Father Adhelm's podagra hath left 
 him, they can hardly fail of being here on the day of 
 Saint Edmund, our blessed king and martyr, and that 
 saint's day is the next day after to-morrow.' 
 
52 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' It shall be a feast-day/ said Thurstan ; ' for albeit 
 Saint Edmund be not so great a saint as our own saint, 
 Etheldreda, the founder of this house, and the monks 
 of Saint Edmund-Bury (the loons have submitted to 
 the Norman !) have more to do with his worship than 
 we have. King Edmund is yet a great saint — a true 
 Saxon saint, whose worship is old in the land ; and it 
 hath been the custom of this house to exercise hospi- 
 tality on his festival. Therefore will we hold that 
 day as we have been wont to hold it ; and our brothers 
 from Crowland and Spalding, who must be faring but 
 badly in the fens, shall be welcomed with a feast.' 
 
 So bounteous and open-handed was the true Saxon 
 Abbat of Ely. But the chamberlain set his worldly 
 head to calculate the expense, and the cellarer mut- 
 tered to himself, ' By Saint Withburga and her lioly 
 well, our cellars will soon be dry ! ' 
 
 On Saint Edmund's eve, after evening service in the 
 choir and after saying his prayers apart in the chapel 
 of Saint Marie, Frithric, the Abbat of Saint Albans 
 departed this life. His last words were, that England 
 would be England still; and all those who heard the 
 words and had English hearts believed that he was 
 inspired, and that the spirit of prophecy spoke in his 
 dying voice. The Abbat of Crowland was so near that 
 he heard the passing-bell, as its sad sounds floated 
 over the fens, telling all the faithful that might be 
 there of their duty to put up a prayer for the dead. 
 On Saint Edmund's day the wayfarers from Crowland 
 arrived, and that abbat took possession of the cell, and 
 of the seat in the refectory which had been occupied 
 by Frithric. Fitting place was also found for Father 
 Adhelm, who had grown so thin upon the journey that 
 even Elfric scarcely knew him again. The feast in the 
 hall was as magnificent as any that had been given 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 53 
 
 there to King Canute, or even to any that had been 
 given in the happy days of King Edward the Con- 
 fessor ; and the appetites of the company assembled 
 wei-e worthy of the best times. Fish^ flesh, and fowl, 
 and pasties of venison — nothing was wanting. The 
 patrimony of Saint Etheldreda, the lands and waters 
 appertaining unto the abbey, and administered by the 
 bountiful abbat, furnished the best portions of the 
 feast. Were there in the world such eels and eel- 
 pouts as were taken in the Ouse and Cam close under 
 the walls of the abbey ? Three thousand eels, by 
 ancient compact, do the monks of Ramsey pay every 
 Lent unto the monks of Peterborough, for leave to 
 quarry stone in a quarry appertaining to Peterborough 
 Abbey ; but the house of Ely might have paid ten 
 times three thousand eels, and not have missed them, 
 so plenty were they, and eke so good ! The fame of 
 these eels was known in far countries ; be sure they 
 were not wanting on this Saint Edmund's day. The 
 streams, too, abounded with pike, large and fit for 
 roasting, with puddings in their bellies ; and the meres 
 and stagnating waters swarmed with tench and carp, 
 proper for stewing. Ten expert hinds attended to 
 these fresh-water fisheries, and kept the abbat's stews 
 and the stews of the house constantly filled with fish. 
 It is said by an ancient historian that here in the 
 fenny country is such vast store of fish as astonishes 
 strangers ; for which the inhabitants laugh at them : 
 nor is there less plenty of water-fowl ; and for a 
 single halfj^enny five men may have enough of either, 
 not only to stay their stomachs, but for a full meal ! 
 Judge, then, if my Lord Abbat was well provided. 
 It was allowed on all sides that, for the Lenten 
 season, and for all those fast-days of the Church 
 when meat was not to be eaten, no community in the 
 
54 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 land was so well furnished as the monks of Ely ; and 
 that their fish-fasts were feasts. While the bx-ethren 
 of other houses grew thin in Quadragesima, the monks 
 of Ely grew fat. Other communities might do well 
 in roast meats and baked meats ; but for a fish dinner 
 — for a banquet in Lent — there was not in the land 
 anything to compare with the dinners at Ely ! Nor 
 was there lack of the fish that swim the salt sea, or 
 of the shell-fish that are taken on the sea-coast, or of 
 the finny tribe that come up the river to spawn ; the 
 fishermen of Lynn were very devout to Saint Ethel- 
 dreda, and made a good penny by supplying the 
 monks ; they ascended the Ouse with the best of their 
 sea-fish in their boats, and with every fish that was 
 in season, or that they knew how to take. And so, 
 at this late November festival, there were skates and 
 plaice, sturgeon and porpoises, oysters and cockles 
 spread upon my Lord Abbat's table. Of the sheep 
 and beeves we speak not ; all men know the richness 
 of the pasture that springs up from the annually 
 inundated meadows, and the bounty of the nibbling 
 crop that grows on the upland slo})es with the wild 
 thyme and the other savoury herbs that turn mutton 
 into venison. Of the wild boars of the forest and fen 
 only the hure or head was served up in this Aula 
 Magna, the inferior parts being kept below for the use 
 of the lay-brothers and hinds, or to be distributed by 
 the hospitaller to the humbler degrees of pilgrims and 
 strangers, or to be doled out to the poor of the town of 
 Ely — for wot ye, when the Lord Abbat Thurstan 
 feasted in Ely none fasted there : no ! not the poorest 
 palmer that ever put cockle-shell in his cap or took the 
 pilgrim's staff in his hand to visit the blessed shrine of 
 Saint Etheldreda! Of the wild buck, though less 
 abundant in this fenny country than the boar, nought 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 55 
 
 was served up for my Lord Abbat and his own par- 
 ticular guests except the tender succulent haunch ; the 
 lay-brothers and the loaf-eaters of the house, and the 
 poor pilgrims and the poor of the town, got all the rest. 
 The fat fowls of Norfolk, the capons of Caen in Nor- 
 tnandie, and the pavoni or peacocks that first came from 
 Italic a present from Legatus a latere of his holiness 
 the Pope, M'ere kept and fattened in my Lord Abbat's 
 farm-yard ; and well did his coquinarius know how to 
 cook tliem ! To the wild-fowl there was no end, and 
 Elfric, our bold novice, the son of Goodman Hugh, 
 who dwelt by Saint Ovin's Cross, hard by the village 
 of Haddenham, and who had been a fen-fowler from 
 his youth, could have told you how facile it was to en- 
 snare the crane and the heron, the wild duck and teal, 
 and the eccentric and most savoury snipe. Well we 
 ween, before men cut down the covering woods, and 
 drained the marshes, and brought too many people 
 into the fens and too many great ships up the rivers, 
 the whole land of Saint Etheldreda was like one great 
 larder ; and my Lord Abbat had only to say, ' Go forth 
 and take for me so many fowl, or fish, or boars,' and it 
 was done. It is an antique and venerable proverb, 
 that which sayeth good eating demands good drinking. 
 The country of the fens was not productive of ajiple- 
 trees, and the ale and beer that were drunk in the 
 house, and the mead and idromel likewise, were brought 
 from Norfolk and other neighbouring countries; but 
 the abbat, and the officials, and the cloister monks 
 drank better wine than apple-wine, better drink than 
 mead or than pigment, for they drank of the juice of 
 the generous vine, which Noah planted on the first dry 
 hill-side he found. The monks of Glastonbury and 
 Waltham, and of many other houses of the first reputa- 
 tion, cultivated the grape on their own soil, where it 
 
56 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 seldom would ripen, and drank English grape-wine 
 much too sour and poor. Not so our lordly monks of 
 Ely ! They sent the shipmen of Lynn to the Elbe, and 
 to the Rhine, and to the Mosel, to bring them more 
 generous dx-ink ; and they sent them to the south even 
 so far as Gascony and Espaing for the ruby wine ex- 
 pressed from the grapes which grow in the sunniest 
 clime. In the good times four keels, two from the 
 German Ocean and two from the Gulf of Biscay e, steered 
 every year through the sand-banks of the Wash to 
 Lynn, and from Lynn up the Ouse even unto Ely, 
 where the tuns were landed and deposited in the 
 cellars of the abbey, under the charge of the sub- 
 cellarer, a lay-brother from foreign parts, who had been 
 a vintner in his youth. And in this wise it came to be 
 a passant saying with men who would describe any- 
 thing that was super-excellent, ' It is as good as the 
 wine of the monks of Ely ! ' Maugre the cellarer's 
 calculation of quantities, the best wine my Lord Abbat 
 had in hand was liberally circulated at the feast in 
 silver cups and in gold-mounted horns. Thus were the 
 drinks equal to the viands, as well in quantity as in 
 quality ; and if great was the skill of the vintner, 
 great also was the skill of the cook. In other houses 
 of religion, and in houses, too, of no mean fame, the 
 monks had often to lament that their coquinarius fed 
 them over long on the same sort of dishes ; but it was 
 not so with our monks of Ely, who possessed a cook 
 that had the art of giving variety to the selfsame 
 viands, and who also possessed lands, woods, and waters 
 that furnished the most varied materials for the cook 
 to try his skill upon. 
 
 As Father Adhelm finished his last slice of porpoise, 
 curiously condimented with Eastern spices, as fragrant 
 to the nose as they were savoury to the palate, he lifted 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 57 
 
 up his eyes toAvards the painted ceiling, and said, ' I 
 did not hope, after the death of Oswald our cook at 
 Spalding, to eat of so perfect a dish on this side tlie 
 grave ! ' 
 
 Flowers there were none to strew upon the floor ; 
 but the floor of the hall was thickly strewed with sweet- 
 smelling hay, and with the rushes that grow in the 
 fens ; and the feet of the loaf-men of the abbat and of 
 the other servitors that waited on the lordly company 
 made no noise as they hurried to and fro with the 
 dishes and the wine-cups and drinking horns. While 
 dinner lasted, nought was heard but the voice of the 
 abbat's chaplain, who read the Psalms in a corner of 
 the hall, the rattle of trenchers and knives, and, time- 
 ously, such ejaculations as these : ' How good this fish ! 
 how good this flesh ! how good this fowl ! how fine this 
 pastry ! how rich this wine ! ' 
 
 But when the tables were cleared, and grace after 
 meat had been said, and my Lord Abbat's cupbearer 
 had filled the cup of every guest with bright old 
 Rhenish, Thurstan stood up at the head of the table, 
 and said, ' Now drink we round to the health of Eng- 
 land's true king, and this house's best friend, the 
 Saxon-hearted Hai'old, be he where he will ! And 
 may he soon come back again ! Cups off at a draught, 
 while we drink Health to King Harold ! ' 
 
 ' We drink his health, and he is dead — we wish him 
 back, and he is lying in his coffin in the church of the 
 Abbey of Waltham, safe in the keeping of the monks 
 of Waltham ! The wine is good, but the toast is foolish.' 
 
 Thus spake the envious prior to the small-he<arted 
 cellarer. But the rest of the goodly company drank 
 the wassail with joy and exultation, and seemingly with- 
 out any doubt that Harold was living and would return. 
 In their minds it was the foul invention of the enemy 
 
58 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 • — to divide and discourage the English people — which 
 made King Harold die at Hastings. Who had seen 
 him fall ? Who had counted and examined that noble 
 throng of warriors that retreated towards the sea-coast 
 when the battle was lost by foul treachery, and that 
 found boats and ships, and sailed away for some foreign 
 land ? Was not Harold in that throng, wounded, but 
 with no deadly wound ? Was it not known throughout 
 the land that the Normans, when they counted the 
 slain, not being able to find the body of Harold, sent 
 some of our Saxon slaves and traitors to seek for it — 
 to seek but not to find it ? Was it not a mouldering 
 and a mutilated corpse that the Normans caused to be 
 conveyed to Waltham, and to be there entombed, at 
 the east end of the choir, as the body of King Harold ? 
 And did not the monks of Waltham close up the grave 
 with brick-work, and inscribe the slab, Hic jacet 
 Harold infelix, without ever seeing who or what was 
 in the coffin ? So reasoned all of this good company, 
 who loved the liberties of England, and who had need 
 of the sustaining hope that the brave Harold was alive, 
 and would come back again. 
 
 Other wassails followed fast one upon the other. 
 They were all to the healths of those who had stood 
 out manfully against the invader, or had preferred exile 
 in the fens, and poverty in the Camp of Refuge, to sub- 
 mission to the conqueror. 
 
 ' Not less than a brimming cup can we drink to the 
 last arrived of our guests, our brother the Lord Abbat 
 of Crowland, and our brother the prior of Spalding,' 
 said Thurstan, filling his own silver cup with his own 
 hand until the Rlienish ran over upon the thirsty 
 rushes at his feet. 
 
 ' Might I be allowed,' said Father Adhelm at a later 
 part of the feast, ' might my Lord Abbat vouchsafe me 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 59 
 
 leave to call a wassail for an humble and unconsecrated 
 member of the Saxon church — who is nevertheless a 
 child of Saint Etheldreda, and a vassal of my Lord 
 Abbat, being native to this place — I would just drink 
 one quarter of a cup, or it might be one half, to Elfric 
 the Novice, for he travelled for our poor succursal cell 
 when we were in the greatest perils ; he carried my 
 missives and my messages through fire and water ; he 
 forewarned us of our last danger and extremity ; and 
 albeit he had not our order for the deed, and is there- 
 by liable to a penance for disobedience — he slew with 
 his arrow Ivo Taille-Bois's man-at-arms that had 
 savagely slain good Wybert our wheelwright.' 
 
 ' Ay/ said Thurstan, ' and he came hither across the 
 fens as merry as David dancing before the ark ; and 
 he brought with him the heads of two Norman thieves, 
 who with their fellows had been murdering our serfs, 
 and trying to find an opening that should lead them 
 to the Camp of Refuge ! Father Adhelm, I would 
 have named thy youth in time ; but as thou hast 
 named him, let us drink his name and health even 
 now ! And let the draught be one half cup at least : — 
 " Elfric the novice of Spalding ! " ' 
 
 'This is unbecoming our dignity, and the dignity 
 of our house : next we shall waste our wine in drink- 
 ing wassail to our loaf-eaters and swineherds,' muttered 
 the cellarer to the prior. 
 
 But while the cellarer muttered and looked askance, 
 his heart not being Saxon or put in the right place, 
 the noblest English lords that were there, and the 
 highest dignitaries of the Church, the archbishop and 
 the bishops, the lord abbats, and the priors of houses, 
 that were so high that even the priors were styled 
 Lords, Domini, and wore mitres, stood on their feet, 
 and with their wine-cups raised high in their hands, 
 
Go THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 shouted as in one voice, ' Elfric the novice ' ; and all 
 the obedientiarii or officials of the Abbey of Ely that 
 were of rank enow to be bidden to my Lord Abbat's 
 table, stood up in like manner and shouted, ' Elfric 
 the novice ! ' and, when the loud cheering was over, 
 off went the wine, and down to the ringing board the 
 empty silver cups and the golden-bound horns. He 
 who had looked into those cu})s and horns might have 
 smiled at Father Adhelm's halves and quarters : they 
 were nearly all filled to the brim ; yet wlien they had 
 quitted the lip and were put down upon the table, 
 there was scarcely a heel-tap to be found except in the 
 cup of the cellarer and in that of the envious prior of 
 Ely. So strong were the heads and stomachs of our 
 Saxon ancestors before the Normans came among us 
 and brought with them all manner of people from the 
 south with all manner of effeminacies. 
 
 Judge ye if Elfric was a pi-oud man that day ! At 
 wassail-time the wide doors of the Aula Magna were 
 thrown wide open ; and harpers, and meni-singers, 
 and men that played upon the trumpet, the liorn, the 
 flute, the pipe and tabor, the cymbal and the drum, or 
 that touched the strings of the viola, assembled out- 
 side, making good music with instrument and voice ; 
 and all that dwelt within the precincts of the abbey, 
 or that were lodged for the nonce in the guest-house, 
 came, as they chose, to the threshold of the hall, and 
 saw and heard what was doing and saying inside and 
 what outside. Now Elfric was there, with palmers 
 and novices trooping all around him, and repeating 
 (albeit drj'-mouthed and Avithout cups or horns to 
 flourish) the wassail of the lords and prelates, 'Elfric 
 the novice ! ' If at that moment my Lord Abbat 
 Thurstan or Father Adhelm had bidden the youth go 
 and drive the Normans from the strong stone-keep of 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 6l 
 
 their doubly-moated and trebly-M'alled castle by Cam- 
 Bridge, Elfric would have gone and have tried to do it. 
 He no longer trod upon base earth, his head struck 
 the stars, as the poets say. 
 
 The abbat's feast, which began at one hour before 
 noon, did not end until the hour of Ave Maria ; nay, 
 even then it was not finished, but only suspended for 
 a short season by the evening service in the choir ; 
 for, after one hour of the night, the refectoriarius, or 
 controller of the refectory, re-appeared in the hall 
 with waxen torches and bright lanterns, and his 
 servitors spread the table for supper. 
 
 As Abbat Thurstan returned to the refectory, lead- 
 ing by the hand his guest the Abbat of Crowland, 
 that dispossessed prelate said to his host, ' To-night for 
 finishing the feast; to-morrow morning for counsel.' 
 
 'Ay,' responded Thurstan, 'to-morrow we will 
 hold a chapter — our business can brook no further 
 delay — our scouts and intelligencers bring us bad 
 news — King Harold comes not, nor sends — the Camp 
 of Refuge needs a head — our warriors want a leader 
 of fame and experience, and one that Avill be true to 
 the Saxon cause, and fearless. Woe the while ! where 
 so many Saxons of fame have proved traitors, and 
 have touched the mailed hand of the son of the harlot 
 of Falaise in friendship and submission, and have 
 accepted as the gift of the butcher of Hastings the 
 lands and honours which they held from their ances- 
 tors and the best of Saxon kings — where, I say, may 
 we look for such a Saxon patriot and liberator } O 
 Harold ! my lord and king, why tari'iest thou ? Holy 
 Etheldreda, bi'ing him back to thy shrine, and to the 
 Camp of Refuge, which will cease to be a refuge for 
 thy servants if Harold cometh not soon ! But courage, 
 my Lord of Crowland ! The Philistines are not upon 
 
62 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 us ; our rivers and ditches and marshes and meres 
 are not yet drained, and no Saxon in these parts will 
 prove so accursed a traitor as to give the Normans 
 the clue to our labyrinths. The saint hath provided 
 another joyous meal for us. Let us be grateful and 
 gay to-night ; let us sup well and strongly, that we 
 may be invigorated and made fit to take strong and 
 wise counsel in the morning.' 
 
 And heartily did the monks of Ely and their guests 
 renew and finish their feast, and hopefully and boldly 
 did they speak of wars and victories over the Normans, 
 until the drowsiness of much wine overcame them, 
 and the sub-chamberlain of the house began to extin- 
 guish the lights, and collect together the torches and 
 the lanterns, while the cellarer collected all the spoons, 
 taking care to carry the Lord Abbat's spoon in his 
 right hand, and the spoons of the monks in his left 
 hand, according to the statutes of the order. It was 
 the last time that the feast of Saint Edmund the 
 Martyr was kept in the true Saxon manner in the 
 great house at ¥Ay. The next year, and the year 
 following that, the monks had little wine and but 
 little ale to drink ; and after the long years of trouble, 
 although the cellars were getting filled again, the true 
 old Saxon brotherhood was broken up and mixed, a 
 foreigner was seated in the place of Abbat Thurstan, 
 and monks with mis-shaven tonsures and mis-shaped 
 hoods and gowns filled all the superior offices of the 
 abbey, purloining and sending beyond sea what my 
 Lord Thurstan had spent in a generous hospitality, 
 among true-born and generous-hearted Englishmen. 
 But in this nether world even the gifts of saints and 
 the chartered donation of many kings are to be kept 
 only by the brave and the united : conquest recognises 
 no right except as a mockery : the conquered must 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY FEAST 63 
 
 not expect to be allowed to call their life and limbs 
 their own, or the air they breathe their own, or their 
 wives and children their OAvn, or their souls their 
 own : they have no property but in the grave, no right 
 but to die at the hour appointed for them. Therefore 
 let men perish in battle rather than outlive subjuga- 
 tion, and look for mercy from conquerors ! and, there- 
 fore, let all the nations of the earth be warned by the 
 fate of the Anglo-Saxons to be always one-hearted 
 for their country\ 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 
 
 At as early an hour as the church services and de- 
 votional exercises would allow, Thurstan opened a 
 chapter in the chapter-house, which stood on the 
 north side, hard by the chief gate of the church. As 
 his lordship entered, he said — the words that were 
 appointed to be said on such occasions — ' May the 
 souls of all the deceased brethren of this house, and 
 the souls of all true believers, rest in peace ! ' And 
 the convent replied, ' Amen ! ' Then the Lord Abbat 
 spoke again, and said, ' Benedicite,' and the convent 
 bowed their heads. And next he said, ' Oh Lord ! in 
 Thy name ! ' and then, ' Let us speak of the order.' 
 And hereupon all present crossed themselves, and 
 bent their heads on their breasts, and the business of 
 the chapter commenced. Only the prior, the sub- 
 prior, the cellarer or bursar, the sacrist, and sub- 
 sacrist, the chamberlain or treasurer, and the other 
 chief officials or ohedientiarii, and the other cloistered 
 monks, matnri J'raires, whose noviciate had been long 
 passed, and whose monastic vows had been all com- 
 pleted, had the right of being present in chapter, and 
 of deliberating and voting upon the business of the 
 house and order. All that passed in chapter was, in 
 a manner, sub sigillo confessionis, and not to be dis- 
 closed by any deliberating member to the rest of the 
 
 64 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 65 
 
 convent, or to any of them, and much less was it to 
 be revealed to any layman, or to any man beyond the 
 precincts of the abbey. In these consultations, on 
 the day next after the festival of Saint Edmunds, the 
 monks of Ely sat long with closed doors. When they 
 came forth of the chapter-house it was noticed that 
 the face of the Lord Abbat was very red, and that 
 the faces of the prior and cellarer were very pale. 
 A lay-brother, who had been working on the top of 
 the chapter-house outside, repairing some chinks in 
 the roof, whispered to his familiars that he had heard 
 very high Avords passing below, and that he had dis- 
 tinctly heard my Lord Abbat say, ' Since the day 
 of my election and investiture no brother of this 
 house has been loaded with chains, and thrown into 
 the underground dungeon ; but, by the shrine of 
 Saint Etheldreda, were I to find one traitor among 
 us, I would bind him and chain him, and leave him 
 to rot ! And were there two of our brotherhood un- 
 faithful to the good cause, and to King Harold, and 
 plotting to betray the last hopes of England and this 
 goodly house, and its tombs and shrines and blessed 
 relics, to the Noi*man, I would do what hath been 
 done aforetime in this abbey — I would bury them 
 alive, or build them up in the niches left in our deep 
 foundation walls ! ' 
 
 Now the gossips of the house, making much out of 
 little, went about the cloisters whispering to one 
 another that some sudden danger was at hand, and 
 that my Lord Abbat suspected the prior and the 
 cellarer of some secret correspondence with the Nor- 
 man knights that garrisoned Duke William's castle 
 near unto Cam-Bridge. 
 
 ' If it be so,' said Elfric, the novice from Spalding, 
 ' I would advise every true Saxon monk, novice, and 
 
 E 
 
66 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 lay-brother, to keep their eyes upon the cellarer and 
 the prior ! ' 
 
 * That shall be done,' said an old lay-brother. 
 
 'Ay, we will all watch their out-goings and their 
 comings-in,' said several of the gossips ; ' for the prior 
 is a hard-dealing, peremptory man, and cunning and 
 crafty at the same time, never looking one in the face ; 
 and ever since last pasque the cellarer hath shown an 
 evil habit of stinting us underlings and loaf-eaters in 
 our meat and drink.' 
 
 ' He hath ever been given too little to drink him- 
 self to be a true Saxon,' said another ; ' we will watch 
 him Avell ! ' 
 
 And they all said that they would watch the cellarer 
 and eke the prior; that they would for ever love, 
 honour, and obey Thurstan their good and bountiful 
 Lord Abbat ; and that they would all die with swords 
 or spears in their hands i-ather than see the Normans 
 enter the Camp of Refuge. So one-hearted was the 
 community at this time. 
 
 Shortly after finishing the chapter in the usual 
 manner, and coming out with his chaplains, singing 
 Verba Mea, Lord Thurstan went into his own hall, 
 and there assembled all the high and noble guests 
 of the house, whether laics, or priests, or monks, and 
 all the ohediejitiarii and cloistered brothers of the 
 abbey, except the prior and the cellarer, who had 
 gone to their several cells with faces yet paler than 
 they were when they came forth fi'om the chapter- 
 house. In my Lord Abbat' s hall no business was 
 discussed that appertained exclusively to the house or 
 order : the deliberations all turned upon the general 
 interests of the country, or upon the means of prolong- 
 ing the struggle for national independence. 
 
 Thurstan, after reminding the assembly that the 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 67 
 
 Saxon heroes of the Camp of Refuge had foiled the 
 Normans in two attempts they had made to penetrate 
 into the Isle of Ely — the one in the summer of the 
 present yeai', and the other in the summer of the 
 preceding year, IO69 — and that it was four good 
 years since the Battle of Hastings, which William 
 the Norman had bruited on the Continent as a 
 victory which had given him possession of all Eng- 
 land, frankly made it known to all present that he 
 had certain intelligence that the Normans were 
 making vast preparations at Cam-Bridge, at Bury, 
 at Stamford, at Huntingdon, and even at Brunn, in 
 order to invade the whole fenny country, and to 
 press upon the Isle of Ely and the Camp of Refuge 
 from many opposite quarters. My Lord Abbat further 
 made it known that the duke had called to this service 
 all his bravest and most expert captains, and a body 
 of troops that had been trained to war in Brittanie 
 and in other parts wherein there were fens and rivers 
 and meres, and thick-growing forests of willow and 
 alder, even as in the country of East Anglia. He also 
 told them how Duke William had sworn by the splen- 
 dour of God's face that another year should not pass 
 without seeing the Abbey of Ely in flames, the Camp 
 of Refuge broken into and scattered, the rule of the 
 Normans established over the whole land, and the 
 refractory Saxons exterminated. 
 
 ' Now,' said my Lord Abbat, ' it behoves us to devise 
 how we shall withstand this storm, and to select some 
 fitting and experienced captain that shall have author- 
 ity over all the fighting men of our league, and that 
 shall be able to measure swords with these vaunted 
 leaders from foreign parts. Our brave Saxon chiefs 
 in the camp, or in this house, and now present among 
 us, are weary of their jealousies of one another, and 
 
68 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 have wisely agreed to obey, one and all, one single 
 leader of experience and fame and good fortune, if 
 such a leader can anywhere be found, having a true 
 Saxon heart within him, and being one that hath 
 never submitted to or negotiated with the invader. 
 Let us then cast about and try and find such a chief. 
 Let every one speak his mind freely, and then we 
 can compare and choose.' 
 
 Some named one chief, and some another : many 
 brave and expert men were named successively and 
 with much applause, and with many expressions of 
 hope and confidence ; but when Father Adhelm, the 
 expelled prior of the succursal cell at Spalding, stood 
 up in his turn, and with the briefest preamble named 
 Hereward, the son of Leofric, the late Lord of Brunn, 
 Hereward the truest of Saxons, the other chiefs seemed 
 to be all forgotten, even by those who had severally 
 jiroposed them, and the assembly listened in silence, 
 or with a silence interrupted only by shouts of triumph, 
 while this good prior and whilom neighbour of Here- 
 ward related the chief events of that warrior's life, 
 and pointed out the hereditary and personal claims 
 he had to the consideration of his countrymen. Ever 
 since the earliest days in which the Saxons gained a 
 footing on the land, the Lords of Brunn, the ancestors 
 of Hereward, had been famed for their valour in the 
 field, famed for their prudence in the Witan and in 
 all other councils, had been famed above all their 
 neighbours for their hospitality ! And when the 
 Saxons embraced the Gospel as preached by Saint 
 Augustine and his disciples, who had been so devout 
 as the Lords of Brunn .'' who so bountiful to the 
 shrines of saints and religious houses ? who so ready 
 to fight unto death in defence of the Church ? Notable 
 it was, and known unto all that dwelt in the land of 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 69 
 
 fens, that the house of Crowland, and the house of 
 Ely, and the shrine of Saint Etheldreda, had been 
 served in the hour of need by many of Hereward's 
 forefathers. When the unconverted, heathenish Danes 
 •were ravaging the country, and burning all the monas- 
 teries, and tethering their horses in the chapels of 
 royal palaces, one Lord of Brunn fought in the ranks 
 by the side of Friar Tolli, from sunrise to sunset, for 
 the defence of the Abbey of Crowland, nor ceased 
 fighting until three of the Danish sea-kings had been 
 slain, and the monks had had time to remove their 
 relics, and their books, and their sacred vases, into 
 the impenetrable marshes of that vicinity. Another 
 Lord of Brunn, who at the call of the monks had 
 marched across the fens with all his people, and with 
 all his family that could wield a sword, had perished 
 close under the walls of Ely Abbey, after defeating 
 the pagans, and driving them back towards their 
 ships. The blood of each of these Lords of Brunn 
 ran in the veins of Hereward, and his deeds had 
 proved him worthy of the blood. In his youth — in 
 the days of Edward the Confessor — when the cunning 
 Normans were beginning to beset the court of the 
 childless king, and to act as if the inheritance was 
 already their own, and the people of England already 
 their slaves, it chanced that our Hereward, who had 
 been on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, came back to the 
 sea by Dover, and found Count Eustace of Boulogne, 
 and his French men-at-arms engaged in a fierce quarrel 
 with the men of Dover, and galloping through the 
 streets with their naked swords in their hands, striking 
 men and women, and crushing divers children under 
 their horses' hoofs. Hereward, though but a stripling, 
 drew his blade, rallied the dull townsfolk, who before 
 had no leader (and so were fighting loosely and with- 
 
70 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 out order, and without any science of war), and renew- 
 ing the battle at a vantage, he slew with his own 
 hand a French knight : and then the men of Dover 
 slew nineteen of the strangers, wounded many more, 
 and drove Count Eustace and the rest out of the town 
 to fly in dismay back to King Edward. Later, when 
 Harold, as earl of the eastern counties, and chief of 
 King Edward's armies, marched into Wales to curb 
 the insolent rage of King Griffith, Hereward attended 
 him, and fought with him among the mountains and 
 glens, and lakes and morasses of Wales, until that 
 country was reduced by many victories, and Harold 
 took shipping to return to King Edward with the head 
 of Griffith stuck upon the rostrum or beak of his 
 galley. Later still, when Hereward was of manly age, 
 and King Edward the Confessor was dead, having 
 bequeathed his crown to Harold, and Harold as our 
 true king raised his banner of war to march against 
 his own unnatural brother Earl Tostig, who liad 
 brought the King of Norway and a great army of 
 Norwegians into the country of York to deprive him 
 of his throne or dismember his kingdom, Hereward 
 marched with him with many of his father's stout 
 men of Brunn, and fought under Harold's eye in the 
 great battle at Stamford Bridge — that battle which 
 ceased not until Earl Tostig and the King of Norway 
 were both slain, and the river was choked up with 
 the Norwegian dead. From Stamford Bridge the 
 march of bold Harold was to Hastings, for the 
 Normans had landed while he had been vanquishing 
 the Norwegians. On that long and rapid march, when 
 hundreds of tried soldiers lagged behind, Hereward 
 kept pace with his royal master ; and when the battle 
 was arrayed he was seen riding by Harold's side ; and 
 when the battle joined, his battle-axe was seen close 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 71 
 
 by the battle-axes of Harold and the king's two loyal 
 and brave brothers, Gurth and Leofwin, dealing 
 terrible blows, and cutting the steel caps and the 
 coats of mail of the Normans like chaff. Saxons, 
 remember that he fought at Hastings through 
 nine long hours, and did not yield until ye saw that 
 ye were betrayed ! Separated from his king in the 
 fury of the last melee, Hereward attempted to rally 
 the East Angles and the men of Kent; and failing in 
 that, and hearing a mighty rumour that Hai-old the 
 king was slain, he galloped to the port of Winchelsey 
 with a few of his father's trusty people, and there 
 embarked for foreign parts, vowing that he Avould 
 never bow his head to the conqueror. The father of 
 Hereward, being old and infirm, and infected by the 
 unmanly fears which made so many Saxons throw 
 aside the sword before the conquest of England was 
 well begun, had made haste to tender his allegiance 
 to the son of the harlot, had obtained his peace, and 
 had been allowed to retain his lordship of Brunn, after 
 paying sundry fines for his son's patriotism. But 
 latterly the old Lord of Brunn had been gathered to 
 his fathers, and a Norman chief had seized his manor- 
 house and all liis lands, and was now keeping them as 
 his patrimony. 
 
 Such, being told briefly, was the story which Father 
 Adhelm told to my Lord Abbat of Ely and his 
 guests and officials ; and Avhen he had done, he 
 asked, where could a better chief be found for the 
 Camp of Refuge than Hereward the true Saxon, and 
 legitimate Lord of Brunn } And, hereupon, there 
 was a clapping of hands and shouting of voices in all 
 that noble and devout assembly — a shouting so loud 
 that it echoed through all the abbey, and was heard 
 as far off as Saint Ovin's Cross ; and the indwellei's of 
 
72 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the town of Ely, albeit they knew not what it meant, 
 took up the cry, and shouted, ' Hereward to the Camp 
 of Refuge ! Hereward for England ! ' 
 
 '^ Bethinks me,' said the cautelous Abbat of Crow- 
 land, when the noise had ceased, ' that perchance 
 Hereward will not come to us at our summons. He 
 must know how false our country has proved to her- 
 self, and how great the progress the conqueror hath 
 made in it : his lands and all his inheritance are gone, 
 a price is set upon his head in England, and his valour 
 and experience in war, and his other good qualities, 
 have made for him a prosperous and honourable home 
 in a foreign land. While yet in my poor house at 
 Crowland, a shipman from the Wash, who trades to 
 the opposite coast, told me that he had lately seen at 
 Ypres my Lord Hereward, living in great affluence 
 and fame ; and the mariner further told me that 
 Hereward had said to him that he would never wend 
 back to a land of cowards and traitors ; that he had 
 carved himself out new estates in the fattest lands of 
 the Netherlands, and that England had nothing to 
 give him except dishonour or a grave.' 
 
 These representations damped the hopes of some of 
 the company ; but as Hereward's mind could not be 
 known without a trial, it was determined to send 
 some trusty messenger across the seas, who might 
 gain access to the presence of the chief, and at the 
 same time purchase and bring back with him a supply 
 of arms and warlike harness, with other things much 
 needed in the Camp of Refuge. The difficulties of 
 this embassage struck all that were present : 
 
 ' And who,' said the Lord Abbat, ' shall be this 
 trusty and expert messenger } ' 
 
 ' Were it not for the greenness of his years and the 
 lowliness of his condition,' said the Prior of Spalding, 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 73 
 
 * I would even venture to recommend for the mission 
 my bold-hearted, clear-headed, and nimble-footed 
 novice, Elfric' 
 
 ' Brother, thou hast said it/ responded Thurstan ; 
 ' thy novice shall go ! Let the youth be summoned 
 hither.' 
 
 The novice was soon kneeling at my Lord Abbat's 
 feet, and was soon made acquainted as well with the 
 difficult task he was expected to perform, as with the 
 uncomfortable doubts which had been propounded by 
 the Abbat of Crowland. When asked by his own 
 immediate superior, Father Adhelm, whether he would 
 undertake the task, he answered : 
 
 ' Marry, and that I will right gladly. When I first 
 went to Spalding, I knew well Hereward, the son of 
 the Lord of Brunn, and some of those that were 
 nearest to him. If England is to be saved, he is the 
 man that will save it. I would go to the world's end 
 to find him and bring him hither. I love my country, 
 and I love travelling better than my meat and drink. 
 I have ofttimes prayed to Saint Ovin that he would 
 vouchsafe me the grace of going into foreign parts ! 
 Moreover, my prime duty is obedience to my superiors. 
 Let me depart instantly, and I will the sooner bring 
 you back Lord Hereward ! ' 
 
 ' Thou art very confident,' said the Abbat of Crow- 
 land ; ' how knowest thou that Hereward will come 
 with thee .'' ' 
 
 ' My lord and master,' said the novice, ' I ween I 
 can take over with me a word of command, or 
 a prayer more potential than a command, and one 
 which Hereward could not withstand even if he 
 were king of all the Netherlands country, and sure 
 death stood upon the English beach to seize him on 
 return ! ' 
 
74. THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' What does this young man mean ? ' said the Abbat 
 of Crowland. 
 
 Elfric blushed, stammered^ and could not go on. 
 
 ' What dost thou mean ? ' said his Prior of Spalding. 
 
 Elfric stammered more than before^ which angered 
 his superior, and brought down some harsh words 
 upon his head. 
 
 'Nay/ said the good old Bishop of Lindisfarn, 
 ' chide not the young man, but give him time to col- 
 lect his thought and frame his speech. He may know 
 more of Lord Hereward than any one here knoweth. 
 But . . . but I hope that this novice of a goodly 
 house doth not think of employing any witchcraft or 
 unlawful spell ! De maleficio libera nos! From witch- 
 craft and sacrilege, and all the arts of the devil, good 
 Lord, deliver us ! ' 
 
 The bishop crossed himself; they all crossed them- 
 selves ; and Elfric not only crossed himself, but like- 
 wise said ' Libera nos ! ' and ' Amen 1 ' But when he 
 had so done and so said, his merry eye twinkled, and 
 there was as much of a smile about his mouth as 
 the reverence due to the company allowed of in a 
 novice. 
 
 ' If there be magic,' said he, ' it is all white magic ; 
 if there be a spell, it is not an unholy spell.' 
 
 And as Elfric said these words he looked into the 
 good-natured, right hearty, and right English face of 
 my Lord Abbat Thurstan. 
 
 'Speak on, boy,' said the abbat; 'speak out, my 
 brave boy, and fear nought ! ' 
 
 Being thus heartened, Elfric said : 
 'Then, to speak with reverence before this noble 
 and reverend company, I wot well there were, when I 
 was first at Spalding, and when my Lord Hereward 
 was at Brunn, certain love-passages ' 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 75 
 
 ' Certain wliat ? ' said the expelled Abbot of Cocker- 
 mouth, who was somewhat deaf. 
 
 ' Love-passages/ said Elfric, looking very archly, 
 and with a laugh in his eyes, if not on his lips ; 
 ^certain love-passages between the son of the Lord of 
 Brunn and the noble maiden Alftrude, the young 
 daughter and heiress to the lord of the neighbouring 
 town, that old Saxon lord, Albert of Ey.' 
 
 ' Truth, the two houses stood not very far apart,' 
 said the Abbat of Crowland ; ' but Albert of Ey was 
 no friend to the old Lord of Brunn.' 
 
 ' Most true, my lord ; but Albert died before his 
 neighbour, and left his wide estates to his fair daughter 
 Alftrude, having first given her in ward to this Lan- 
 franc, who is by some called Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 and whose will and power few can gainsay. More- 
 over, the Ladie Alftrude is cousin to the Ladie Lucia, 
 whom Ivo Taille-Bois hath made his wife ; and as that 
 arch-enemy of our house extends his protection to his 
 wife's cousin, not wishing that her lands should be 
 seized by any hungry Norman other than a relation of 
 his own, the heiress of Ey hath been allowed to live 
 in the old manor-house, and to enjoy such proportion 
 of her father's wealth as Lanfranc chooseth to allow 
 her. Many Norman knights have sought her hand, 
 as the best means of obtaining her land, but the Saxon 
 maiden hath ever said Nay ! And Lanfranc, who hath 
 done violence to the very Church for his own interest, 
 and Ivo Taille-Bois, who got his own Saxon wife by 
 violence, have hitherto had power enough to prevent 
 any great wrong or violence being done to Ladie 
 Alftrude, the heiress of Ey. Now the Ladie Alftrude 
 remembers the times that are past, and sighs and 
 weeps for the return of Hereward, vowing that she 
 will wed none but him, and that ' 
 
76 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 'Thou seemest -well informed in these matters,' 
 said one of the monks ; ' but prithee, how didst thou 
 obtain thine information ? ' 
 
 Elfric stammered a little, and blushed a good deal 
 as he said : 
 
 ' The young Ladie Alftrude hath long had for her 
 handmaiden one Mildred of Haddenham, a daughter 
 of my late father's friend, a maiden well behaved and 
 well favoured, and pious withal ; and when I was sent 
 to the manor-house of Ey upon the business of our 
 own house at Spalding, and when I met Mildred at the 
 church, or wake, or fair, we were ever wont to talk 
 about my Lord Hereward and my Ladie Alftrude, as 
 well as of other matters.' 
 
 ' Father Adhelm,' said my Lord Abbat of Crowland 
 in a whisper, 'surely thou hast allowed too much 
 liberty to thy convent.' 
 
 ' My lord,' replied the Prior of Spalding, ' it is but 
 a novice that speaks ; Elfric is not a cloister monk.' 
 
 * No, and never will be,' said the Abbat of Crow- 
 land, in another whisper. 
 
 'I now see thy spell,' said Thurstan, addressing 
 Elfric, who was standing silent, and still blushed ; ' I 
 now see the witchcraft that thou wouldst use. And 
 dost thou believe that the Ladie Alftrude so loves 
 Hereward that she will jeopardise her estates for him, 
 and call home and marry him, though an outlaw } 
 And dost thou believe that Lord Hereward so loveth 
 the Ladie Alftrude as to quit his new-found fortunes 
 for her, and to come at her bidding into England ? ' 
 
 ' I believe in loving hearts,' replied Elfric ; ' I 
 believe in all that Mildred ever told me about Ladie 
 Alftrude ; and I can guess better than your shipman 
 and trader of the Wash what it was that made Lord 
 Hereward talk so high about his greatness in foreign 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 77 
 
 parts, and vilipend liis own country, and make declara- 
 tions that he would never return to a land of cowardice, 
 and treachery, and falsehood. The exile hath heard 
 that the Ladie Lucia hath become the wife of Ivo 
 Taille-Bois, probably without hearing the violence and 
 the craft which brought about that unholy marriage ; 
 and probably without knowing how much the Ladie 
 Lucia grieves, and how very a prisoner she is in her 
 own manor-house, and in the midst of her own lands 
 and serfs. My Lord Hereward may also have heard 
 some unlucky rumours about a mai*riage between the 
 Ladie Alftrude and some brother or cousin of Taille- 
 Bois, which idle gossips said was to take place with 
 the sanction of Lanfranc ; and judge ye, my lords and 
 holy fathers, whether this would not be enough to 
 drive Hereward mad ! But a little wit and skill, and 
 a little good luck, and all these cross and crooked 
 things may be made straight. If I can win to see the 
 Ladie Alftrude, and get from her some love-token and 
 some comfortable messages to the exiled Lord of 
 Brunn, and if I can declare and vow, of mine own 
 knowledge, that the heart of the fair Saxon is aye the 
 same, write me down a traitor or a driveller, my lords, 
 an I bring not Hereward back with me.' 
 
 ' Of a surety he will do it,' said Abbat Thurstan, 
 rubbing his hands joyously. 
 
 ' I understand not much of this love logic, but I 
 think he will do it,' said the Abbat of Crowland. 
 
 ' He will do anything,' said the Prior of Spalding ; 
 'but once let loose on this wild flight, we shall never 
 again get the young hawk back to hand.' 
 
 The rest of the business was soon arranged, and 
 precisely and in every part as the novice himself 
 suggested. No one thought of exacting oaths of 
 fidelity from Elfric. His faith, his discretion, and 
 
78 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 his valour had been well tried already, and his honest 
 countenance gave a better assurance than oaths and 
 bonds. As Saxon monks were the least acceptable of 
 all visitors to the Normans, and as the dress of monk 
 or palmer no longer gave protection to any man of 
 English birth, and as the late novice of Spalding 
 might chance to be but too well known in Ivo Taille- 
 Bois's vicinity, Elfric disguised himself as one of the 
 poorest of the wandering menestrels — half musician, 
 half beggar and idiot ; and in this guise and garb, he, 
 on the second day after the feast of Saint Edmund, 
 set out alone to find his way across the fens, thi'ough 
 the posts and watches of the Normans, and so on to 
 the manor-house and the jealously guarded bower of 
 the Ladie Alftrude. He was to return to Ely, if good 
 fortune attended him, within seven days ; and then 
 he would be ready to proceed to the country of the 
 Netherlanders, to seek for Lord Hereward, and to 
 purchase the warlike harness that was wanted. As 
 soon as he had taken his departure from the abbey, a 
 quick boat was sent down the Ouse with orders to the 
 steadiest and oftenest tried shipman of Lynn to get 
 his good bark in readiness for a sea voyage, and to 
 bring it up to Ely, in order to take on board an 
 important passenger bound on an embassage for my 
 Lord Abbat. 
 
 Although the love of the Ladie Alftrude might 
 perchance bring back Lord Hereward, it was not 
 likely that it should buy from the trading men of 
 Ypres, or Ghent, or Bruges, the bows and the cross- 
 bows, the swords and the lance-heads, the coats of 
 mail, and the other gear that were so much wanted ; 
 and therefore Abbat Thurstan^ after collecting what 
 little he could from his guests and in the Camp of 
 Refuge^ and after taking his own signet-ring from his 
 
THE MONKS OF ELY TAKE COUNSEL 79 
 
 finger, and his own prelatical cross of gold and chain 
 of gold from his neck, called upon the chamberlain 
 and the cellarer and the saci'ist for all the coin that 
 had been put by the pilgrims into the shrine-box. 
 This time the livid-faced cellarer was silent and 
 obedient ; but the chamberlain, demurring to the 
 order of my Lord Abbat, said : 
 
 ' Surely these contributions of the faithful were at 
 all times devoted to the repairing and beautifying of 
 our church ! ' 
 
 ' Thou sayest it/ quoth my Lord Abbat ; ' but if we 
 get not weapons and harness wherewith to withstand 
 the invaders, we shall soon have no church left us to 
 repair or beautify. By the holy face and incorruptible 
 body of Saint Etheldreda, I will strip her very shrine 
 of the gold plates which adorn it, and of the silver 
 lamps which burn before it, and melt the gold and the 
 silver, and barter the ingots for arms, rather than see 
 the last refuge of my countrymen broken in upon, and 
 the accursed Noratians in my house of Ely ! ' 
 
 'But doth not this savour of sacrilege?' said the 
 sacrist. 
 
 ' Not so much as of patriotism and of real devotion 
 to our saint and foundress. Saint Etheldreda, a true 
 Saxon and East Anglian saint, will approve of the 
 deed, if it should become necessary to strip her shrine. 
 Her honour and sanctity depend not on lamps of silver 
 and plates of gold, however rich and rare : the faith- 
 ful flocked to her tomb, and said their orisons over it 
 when it was but a plain stone block, with no shrine 
 near it ; and well I ween more miracles were wrought 
 there, in the simple old times, than we see wrought 
 now. Should the Normans get into our church, they 
 will strip the shrine, an we do not ; and they will rifle 
 the tombs of Saint Sexburga, Saint Ermenilda, and 
 
80 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Saint Withburga, and cast forth the bodies of our 
 saints upon the dung-heap ! O sacrist ! know ye 
 not how these excommunicated foreigners are every- 
 where treating the saints of Saxon birth, and are 
 everywhere setting up strange saints, whose names 
 were never before heard by Englishmen, and cannot 
 be pronounced by them ! The reason of all this is 
 clear : our Saxon hagiology is filled with the names 
 of those that were patriots as well as saints, and we 
 cannot honour them in one capacity without think- 
 ing of them in the other.' 
 
 ' This is most true,' said the chamberlain ; ' and the 
 Normans be likewise setting up new shrines to the 
 Blessed Virgin, and bringing in Notre Dames, and our 
 Lady of Walsingham, and other ladies that were never 
 heard of before ; and they are enforcing pilgrimages 
 in wholly new directions ! If these things endure, 
 alack and woe the while for our house of Ely, and for 
 the monks of Saint Edmund's-Bury, and for all Saxon 
 houses ! Our shrine boxes will be empty ; we shall be 
 neglected and forgotten in the land, even if the Nor- 
 mans do not dispossess us.' 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 IVO TAILLE-BOIS AND THE LADIE LUCIA 
 
 Within the moated and battlemented manor-house 
 near to the bank of the Welland^ which Elfric had 
 stopped to gaze upon as he was travelhng from Crow- 
 land to Spalding, thei'C was held a feast on the fourth 
 day after the feast of Saint Edmund, for the said fourth 
 day from the great Saxon festival was the feast-day of 
 some saint of Normandie or of Anjou, and the Ladie 
 Lucia, maugre her sorrow and affliction, had given birth 
 to a male child a moon agone, and the child was to be 
 baptized on this day with much rejoicing. Ivo Taille- 
 Bois and his Norman retainers were glad, inasmuch as 
 the birth of a son by a Saxon wife went to secure them 
 in their possession of the estates ; and the Ladie Lucia 
 was glad of heart, as a mother cannot but rejoice at 
 the birth of her first-born ; and her Saxon servants, 
 and all the old retainers of her father's house, and all 
 the Saxon serfs, were glad, because their future lord 
 would be more than one half Saxon, being native to 
 the country, a child of the good Ladie Lucia, the 
 daughter of their last Saxon lord. So merry were all, 
 that grievances seemed to be forgotten : the Noi'mans 
 ceased to oppress and insult ; the Saxons ceased, for 
 the time being, to complain. The feast was very 
 bountiful, for the Ladie Lucia had been allowed the 
 ordering of it ; and the company was very numerous 
 
 F 
 
82 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and much mixed, for many Saxons of name had been 
 bidden to the feast, and pledges had been given on 
 both sides that there should be a truce to all hostilities 
 and animosities ; that there should be what the Nor- 
 mans called the Truce of God until the son of Ivo 
 Taille-Bois and Lucia, the presumptive heir to all the 
 lands of the old lord, should be christened, and his 
 christening celebrated in a proper manner. No less a 
 man than the prelate Lanfranc had interfered in making 
 this salutary arrangement. And for the first time since 
 the death of her father, Lanfranc's fair ward, the Ladie 
 Alftrude, had come forth from her own manor-house 
 to attend at the earnest invitation of her cousin the 
 Ladie Lucia. The Saxon heiress had come attended 
 by sundry armed men and by two aged English priests 
 who stood high in the consideration and favour of the 
 potent Lanfranc. When, landing from her boat (the 
 country was now nearly everywhere under water), she 
 walked up to the gate of the house, and entering, drew 
 aside her wimple and showed her sweet young face 
 and bright blue eyes, there rose a murmur of admir- 
 ation from all that were assembled there : the Saxons 
 vowed in good old English that the Ladie Alftrude was 
 the fairest and noblest maiden in all England ; and the 
 Normans swore in Norman-French and with many a 
 Five Dieu that they had never beheld anything equal 
 to her either on the other side of the seas or on this ! 
 Nay, some of the Norman knights and more than one 
 whose beard was growing grey while he was yet in 
 poverty or wholly unprovided with any English estate, 
 forgot the broad lands that Alftrude inherited, to think 
 only of her beautiful face. Yet when Alftrude kissed 
 her fair cousin and her cousin's child, and sat down by 
 the side of the Ladie Lucia at the top of the hall, it 
 was hard to say which was the more lovely, the young 
 matron, or the scarcely younger maiden. 
 
IVO TAILLE-BOIS AND THE LADIE LUCIA 83 
 
 ' Benedicite,' said a young monk of Evreux who had 
 come over for promotion in some English abbey, ' but 
 the daughters of this land be fair to look upon ! ' 
 
 'They be,' said a starch man in mail, 'and they will 
 conquer the conquerors of England, and soon cause the 
 name and distinction of Norman to be swallowed up 
 and forgotten in the country.' 
 
 ' Had I come hither before taking my vows at 
 Evreux, the devil might have been a monk for me, but 
 I would have been none of it ! ' 
 
 Peaceably, ay, and merrily, passed off the day. The 
 fair Ladie Alftrude stood at the font, and was one of 
 the sponsors for her cousin's first-born. The banquet 
 succeeded to the baptism, and dancing and music in 
 the hall followed on the banquet. The old times 
 seemed to be coming back again, those peaceful days 
 of good King Edward, Cceli delicice, when every free- 
 born Englishman enjoyed his own, and every noble 
 thane or earl held hospitality to be one of his primary 
 duties. 
 
 But Ivo Taille-Bois, though he boasted of being 
 cousin to Duke William, was a greedy low-born churl, 
 and therefore he needs must mar the happiness of his 
 young wife (who ever since the birth of her son had 
 been striving to forget how she had been made his 
 wife), by talking of his unprovided brother, who had 
 arrived in England, and was now tarrying about the 
 Conqueror's court in the hope of obtaining from Lan- 
 franc the hand of his rich Saxon ward. The Ladie 
 Lucia, knowing full well how her cousin's heart lay 
 toward Here ward, tried often to change the strain, 
 but her Norman lord, forgetful even of courtesy to his 
 guests, would still keep vexing her ear with his 
 brother's suit, and Instead of continuing to be thankful 
 to his saints for his own good fortune in getting so vast 
 
84 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 an heritage^ and so fair a wife, and then so promising- 
 a child, he spoke as though he should feel himself 
 a beggar until all the domains of the Ladie Alftrude 
 were in the hand of his family. An anger that would 
 not be concealed flashed in his eye whenever he saw 
 any well-fa'red knight or gallant youth discoursing with 
 Alftrude, and whether it were a Norman or a Saxon 
 his wrath seemed equal. Desperate thoughts and 
 dark designs flitted through his mind. At one time he 
 thought that now that he had got the young heiress 
 into his house he would forcibly keep her where she 
 was until his brother should arrive and press his own 
 suit in the ungodly manner of the first Norman con- 
 querors ; but he cowered under the dread of Lanfranc 
 and a Norman sentence of excommunication, and he 
 saw that the thing was not to be done without great 
 peril and much bloodshed under his own roof, for the 
 Saxon guests were numerous far above the Normans, 
 and though, mayhap, several of his Norman guests 
 would not have scrupled about the deed if it had been 
 for their own profit, they could not be expected to con- 
 cur in it, or even to allow it, when it was only for the 
 profit of him and his brother. Vanity, thy name was 
 Nonnan ! There was young Guiscard of Avranches, 
 there was tall Etienne of Rouen (and verily a tall and 
 well-proportioned young man was he, and one that 
 could talk glibly both in English and in French), there 
 was Baldwin of the Mount, a most nimble dancer, and 
 with a fine gilded cloak over his shoulders and not a 
 crown in his purse (even like all the rest of them) ; 
 there was old Mainfroy of La Ferche, who had followed 
 Robert Guiscard into Italic and Grecia, and had lost an 
 eye and half of a nose in those wars before Ladie Alf- 
 trude was born ; and thei'e was old Drogo from Chinon 
 who looked as though he had added to his own nose 
 
IVO TAILLE-BOIS AND THE LADIE LUCIA 85 
 
 that half of a nose Mainfroy had lost (so hugeous and 
 misshapen was Drogo's nose !) ; and not one of these 
 gay knights but thought that the Ladie Alftrude having 
 once seen and heard him must prefer him to all the 
 world. In their own conceit they were, one and all of 
 them, already Lords of Ey and husbands of Alftrude. 
 Judge you then whether Ivo Taille-Bois could have 
 safely ventured to stay his fair guest against her will, 
 or shut up his wife's cousin in close bower for his as 
 yet unknown and unseen brother ! 
 
 But there was now in the hall a merrier eye, and one 
 more roguish withal, than ever shone under the brows 
 of a Norman. The drawbridge being down, and the 
 gate of the house wide open, that all who list might 
 enter and partake according to his degree of some of 
 the good things that were provided, a young Saxon glee- 
 man or menestrel came over the bridge unchallenged, 
 and only paused under the low archway of the gate. 
 His dress was tattered and torn, and not free from the 
 mud and slime of the fens, but sweet and clear was his 
 voice, and merry and right old English his song ; and 
 so all the Saxons that heard him gave him welcome, 
 and bade him enter the hall and sing a lay in honour 
 of the Ladie Lucia and of her first-born son, who would 
 be good lord to all Saxon folk as his grandfather had 
 been before him. But before going into the hall, 
 where the feast was just over, and all the tables cleared, 
 the glee-man went aside into the buttery to renew his 
 strength with a good meal, and refresh his voice with 
 a cup of good wine. When he entered the hall the old 
 Saxon seneschal cried, 'A glee-man ! another glee-man 
 come to sing an English song !' The Norman menestrels 
 looked scornfully at him and his tattered cloak ; and 
 the Saxon menestrels asked of one another who he might 
 be ; for none of them knew him, albeit the menestrels, 
 
86 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 like the beggars and other happy vagabonds of old 
 England, were united in league and brotherhood, in 
 sort that every menestrel of East Anglia was thought to 
 know every other menestrel or glee-man of that country. 
 But when the new and unknown comer had played his 
 preludium on his Saxon lyre of four strings, and had 
 sung his downright Saxon song with a voice that was 
 clear as a bell, and at times loud as a trumpet, the 
 English part of the company, from the highest degree 
 to the lowest, shouted and clapped their hands ; and 
 all the English menestrels vowed that he was worthy of 
 their guild ; while even the Norman glee-men confessed 
 that, although the words were barbarous and not to be 
 understood by civil men, the air was good, and the 
 voice of the best. Whether the words were ancient as 
 the music, or whether they were made in part or 
 wholly for the occasion by the singer, they went deep 
 into the hearts both of the Ladie Alftrude and the 
 Ladie Lucia ; and while the young matron of the house 
 put a little ring into a cup, and bade her little Saxon 
 page fill the cup with the best wine, and hand it to the 
 Saxon menestrel, the maiden Alftrude went straight to 
 the spot where that menestrel was standing, and asked 
 him to sing his song again. And when the glee-man 
 had knelt on his knee to the mistress of the house, 
 and had drained her cup of wine until not so much as 
 the ghost of a drop was left in it, and when he had 
 sung his song over again, and more deftly and joyously 
 than he had sung it before, the Ladie Alftrude still 
 kept near him, and, discoursing with him, took three 
 or more turns across the lower part of the hall. Saxon 
 lords and Saxon dames and maidens of high degree 
 were ever courteous to the poor and lowly, and ever 
 honoured those who had skill in minstrelsy. At first 
 the Ladie Alftrude smiled and laughed as if at some 
 
IVO TAILLE-BOIS AND THE LADIE LUCIA 87 
 
 witty conceit let fall by the menestrel ; but then those 
 who watched her well, and were near enough to see, 
 saw a cloud on her brow and a blush on her cheek, and 
 then a paleness, and a short gasping as if for breath. 
 But all this passed away, and the maiden continued to 
 discourse calmly with the menestrel, and whenever the 
 menestrel raised his voice it was only to give utterance 
 to some pleasant gibe. 
 
 Ivo Taille-Bois, albeit he had seen him often under 
 another hood, might not know him, and all the English 
 glee-men might continue to wonder who he was ; but 
 we know full well that the menestrel was none other 
 than Elfric the novice. He had found his way un- 
 scathed to Ey, and not finding the Ladie Alftrude there, 
 he had followed her to the manor-house of her fair 
 cousin, well pleased that such a celebration and feast 
 would make easy his entrance into the house. A 
 maiden of Alftrude's degree could not travel and visit 
 without a featy handmaiden attendant upon her. 
 Rough men that bend bows and wield swords and 
 spears, and make themselves horny fists, are not fit to 
 dress a ladies hair or tie her sandals ; and well we Aveen 
 it becometh not priests with shaven crowns to be lacing 
 a maiden's bodice ; and so, besides the armed men and 
 the two churchmen, the Ladie Alftrude had brought 
 with her Mildred of Haddenham, that maiden well- 
 behaved and well-favoured and pious withal, whom 
 Elfric was wont to entertain with talk about my Lord 
 Hereward, as well as of other matters. Now Mildred 
 of Haddenham was there at the lower end of the hall, 
 seated among other handmaidens ; and as soon as 
 Elfric entered, or, at the latest, as soon as he finished 
 the first verse of his song, she knew who the menestrel 
 was as well as we do. While the Ladie Alftrude was 
 before their eyes, few of the noble company cared to 
 
88 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 look that way or upon any other than her ; but if a 
 sharp eye had watched, it would have seen that Mildred 
 several times blushed a much deeper red than her mis- 
 tress, and that the young glee-man's eyes were rather 
 frequently seeking her out. And at last, when the 
 Ladie Alftrude returned to her cousin at the head of 
 the hall, and the floor of the hall was cleared for an 
 exhibition of dancers, the glee-man, after some gyra- 
 tions, found his way to the side of Mildred of Hadden- 
 ham, and kept whispering to her, and making her blush 
 even redder than before, all the other handmaidens 
 wondering the while, and much envying Mildred, for, 
 albeit his cloak was tattered and his hose soiled, the 
 young menestrel, besides having the sweetest voice, was 
 surpassingly well-favoured in form and face, and had 
 the happiest-looking eye that ever was seen. 
 
 The Ladie Alftrude talked long in a corner with her 
 cousin the Ladie Lucia, and then there was a calling 
 and consulting with Mildred of Haddenham, as though 
 her mistress's head-gear needed some rearrangement. 
 And after this the two cousins and the waiting-woman 
 quitted the hall, and went into an upper and inner 
 chamber, and tarried there for a short while, or for 
 about the time it takes to say a score of Aves. Then 
 they come back to the hall, and the Ladie Lucia and 
 the Ladie Alftrude sit down together where the com- 
 pany is most thronged. But where is the curiously 
 delicate little ring that was glittering on Ladie Alf- 
 trude' s finger .''... Ha ! Ha ! we wot well that Elfric 
 hath got it, and other love-tokens besides, that he may 
 carry them beyond seas, and bring back Hereward to 
 his ladie-love and to England that cannot do without 
 him. But where is that merriest of glee-men ? . . . 
 Many in the hall were asking the question, for they 
 wanted to hear him again. But Elfric was gone, and 
 
IVO TAILLE-BOIS AND THE LADIE LUCIA 89 
 
 none seemed to knoAv how or when he went. Mayhap, 
 maid Mildred knew something about it, for when the 
 EngUsh part of the company began to call for the glee- 
 man with the tattered cloak, that he might sing an- 
 other merry song, she turned her face to the wall and 
 wept. 
 
 Well, I ween, had our simple dull Saxons out-witted 
 the nimbi e-witted Normans ! Well had the menestrel 
 and the ladies and the waiting-maid played their several 
 parts ! Could Ivo Taille-Bois but have known his 
 errand, or have guessed at the mischief that he was 
 brewing for him, either Elfric would never have entered 
 those walls, or he would never have left them alive. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 HEREWARD S RETURN 
 
 There may be between Thamesis and the Tyne worse 
 seas and more perilous rocks ; but when the north-east 
 wind blows right into that gulf, and the waves of the 
 German Ocean are driven on by the storms of winter, 
 the practised mariner will tell you that the navigation 
 of the Wash, the Boston Deeps, and the Lynn Deeps, is 
 a fearful thing to those who know the shoals and coasts, 
 and a leap into the jaws of death to those that know 
 them not. Besides the shallows near shore, there be 
 sandbanks and treacherous shoals in the middle of the 
 bay, and these were ofttimes shifting their places or 
 changing their shapes. Moreover, so many rivers and 
 broad streams and inundations, that looked like regular 
 rivers in the wet seasons of the year, poured their 
 waters into the Wash, that it required all the skill of 
 the mariner and pilot to find a way into the proper bed 
 of any one particular river, as the Ouse, the Nene, or 
 the Welland. Here are many quicksands, fatal to 
 barks, when concealed under the water ; and even in 
 summer-tide, when the waters are dried, the shep- 
 herds and their flocks are often taught by a woeful 
 experience that these quicksands have a wonderful 
 force in sucking in and holding fast whatsoever cometh 
 upon them. In this sort the perils of shipmen are not 
 over even when they reach the shore, and are advan- 
 
 90 
 
HEREWARD'S RETURN 91 
 
 cing to tread upon what seemeth like terra firma. The 
 Wash and its sandbanks and the quicksands had 
 made more East-Anglian widows and orphans than 
 were made by any other calamity besides, save always 
 the fierce Norman conquest. 
 
 It was under one of the fiercest and loudest tem- 
 pests that ever blew from the sky of winter, and upon 
 one of the roughest seas that ever rolled into the 
 Wash, that five barks, which seemed all to be deeply 
 laden and crowded with men, drove past the shoal 
 called the Dreadful, and made for that other shoal 
 called the Inner Dousing. The sun, which had not 
 been visible the whole day, now showed itself like a 
 ball of fire as it sank in the west behind the flats 
 and fens of Lincolnshire ; and when the sun was down 
 the fury of the tempest seemed to increase. When 
 they had neared the Inner Dousing, four of the barks 
 took in all their sail and lay-to as best they could in 
 the trough of the sea ; but the fifth bark stood 
 gallantly in for the Wash, with nearly all her sails 
 up. Swift as it bounded over the waves, it was dark 
 night before the foremost bark reached the little cape 
 where stands the chapel of Our Ladie. Here the 
 bark showed three lights at her mast-head, and then 
 three lights over her prow, and then three over her 
 stern. Quickly as might be, these lights from on 
 board the fifth and foremost bark were answered by 
 three times three of lights on the belfry of Our 
 Ladie's chapel ; and had it not been for the roaring 
 of the winds and the loud dashing of the sea on the 
 resounding shore, those on land by Our Ladie's chapel 
 might have heard a three times three of hearty cheers 
 from those on shipboard, and those on the ship might 
 have heard every cheer given back with interest and 
 increase by the crowd of true Saxons that stood by 
 
92 THECAMPOF REFUGE 
 
 the chapel. The bark next showed at her masthead 
 a broad bhie light, such as had never been seen before 
 in these parts ; and presently from the lee side of the 
 Inner Dousing four other bright blue lights gleamed 
 across the black sky ; and having in this wise answered 
 signal, the four barks followed in the track of the 
 fifth and came up with it off Our Eadie's chapel. 
 Still keeping a little in advance, like the pilot and 
 admiral of the little fleet, the bark that had first 
 reached the coast glided into Lynn Deeps ; and as it 
 advanced towards the mouth of the Ouse, signal- 
 lights or piloting lights rose at every homestead and 
 hamlet, from Kitcham to Stone's-end, from Stone' s- 
 end to Castle Rising, and from Castle Rising to the 
 good town of Lynn. And besides these stationary 
 lights, there were other torches running along the 
 shore close above the line of sea foam. And much was 
 all this friendly care needed, the deeps being narrow 
 and winding and the shoals and sand-banks showing 
 themselves on every side, and the wind still blowing 
 a hurricane, and the masts of the barks bending and 
 cracking even under the little sail that they now 
 carried. On this eastern side of the Wash few could 
 have slept, or have tarried in their homes this night ; 
 for when — near upon midnight, and as the monks of 
 Lynn were preparing to say matins in the chapel of 
 Saint Nicholas — the five barks swirled safely into the 
 deep and easy bed of the Ouse, and came up to the 
 prior's wharf, and let go their anchors, and threw 
 their stoutest cordage ashore, to the end that the 
 mariners there might make them fast, and so give a 
 double security against wind and tide, the wharf and 
 all the river bank was covered with men, women, and 
 children, and the houses in the town behind the river 
 bank were nearly all lighted up, as if it had been 
 
HEREWARD'S RETURN 93 
 
 Midsummer's Eve, instead of being the penultimate 
 night of the Novena of Christmas. It was not difficult 
 to make out that the foremost of the barks and one 
 other belonged to Lynn, inasmuch as the Lynn folk 
 leaped on board of them as soon as they were made 
 fast at the wharf, calling upon their town fellows, 
 their brothers or sons, and hugging them 7nore Saxonico 
 when they found them out on the crowded decks. 
 The other barks were of foreign structure, and the 
 mariners seemed to be all foreigners ; but the many 
 passengers in each of them were all Englishmen, and 
 landsmen besides ; for they had all been veiy sea-sick, 
 and were now very impatient to get their feet upon 
 diy land. 
 
 The first that landed from the foremost bark was a 
 tall, robust, and handsome man, dressed as Saxon 
 noblemen and warriors Avere wont to di*ess before the 
 incoming of the ill fashions of Normandie. 
 
 He carried in his right hand a long straight and 
 broad sword, the blade of which was curiously 
 sheathed, and the hilt of which formed a cross. 
 When he had crossed the plankings of the wharf, and 
 reached the solid ground, he knelt on one knee and 
 kissed the cross of his sword ; and then throwing 
 himself prone upon the earth, and casting wide his 
 arms as though he would embrace it and hug it, he 
 kissed the insensate soil, and thanked his God and 
 every saint in the Saxon calendar for that he had 
 been restored to the land which gave him birth, and 
 which held the dust and bones of his fathers. Some 
 who had seen him in former days on the Spalding 
 side of the Wash, and some who had been apprised 
 of his coming, began instantly to shout, ' It is he ! — 
 it is Lord Hereward of Brunn ! It is Hereward the 
 Saxon ! It is the Lord of Brunn, come to get back 
 
94 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 his own and to help us to drive out the Normans.' 
 The shouts were taken up on every side, mariners 
 and landsmen, foreigners and home-born fensmen, 
 and women and children, crying, ' It is Hereward 
 the Saxon ! Long live the young Lord of Brunn, 
 who will never shut his hall-door in the face of a 
 poor Englishman, nor turn his back on a French- 
 man ! ' Some hemmed him in, and kissed his hands, 
 and the sheath of his long straight sword, and the 
 skirts of his mantle, and the very sandals on his 
 feet ; while others held their glaring torches close 
 over his head, that they might see him and show 
 him to their mates. It was one Nan of Lynn, and a 
 well-famed and well-spoken Avoman, that said, as she 
 looked upon the Lord Hereward, 'We Englishwomen 
 of the fens will beat the men-at-arms from Nor- 
 mandie, an we be but led by such a captain as this ; 
 With that steel cap on his head, and that scarlet 
 cloak over his shoulders, he looks every inch as 
 stalwart and as handsome a warrior as the archangel 
 Michael, whose portraiture we see in our church ! ' 
 
 The person nearest in attendance on Lord Here- 
 ward was that lucky wight Elfric, who had been to 
 seek him in foreign parts ; but it was Elfric no longer 
 attired either as a tattered menestrel or as a shave- 
 ling novice, but as something betwixt a blithesome 
 page and an armed retainer. He too had more than 
 one tear of joy in his eye as he trod upon the shore ; 
 but this tender emotion soon gave way to a hearty if 
 not boisterous mirth, and so he kept shouting, ' Make 
 way for Hereward the Lord of Brunn ! ' and kept 
 squeezing the hands of all the men and women and 
 children he knew in Lynn, as they walked towards 
 the convent where Hereward was to rest until day- 
 light. Next to Elfric, the man that seemed most 
 
HERE WARD'S RETURN 95 
 
 entirely devoted to the service and to the person of 
 Hereward was a sHght, slim man of middle stature 
 and very dark complexion ; his hair was long, and 
 would have been blacker than the plumage of the 
 raven save that time had touched it here and there 
 with grey ; his nose was arched like the beak of a 
 goshawk ; and his eye, that looked out from under 
 a very black and bushy but very lofty eyebrow, was 
 blacker and keener than the eye of any hawk or 
 other fowl of prey. Some, who had seen now and 
 then a wandering Israelite, thought that this stranger 
 looked marvellously like a Jew ; but this was a mar- 
 vellous mistake. None could think him either young 
 or handsome ; yet was thei*e something about his 
 person and in his face that none could help looking 
 at, and then remembering for aye. Among the stout 
 Saxons were some that could have taken the dark, 
 slim stranger between their finger and thumb, and 
 have squeezed the life out of him with as much ease 
 as boys crack nuts ; but there was a quickness and 
 sharpness in the stranger's eye that seemed to say he 
 could outwit them all if he chose. On the way to 
 the convent Hereward several times addressed him in 
 some foreign tongue, and seemed by his looks to be 
 taking advice of him. 
 
 As the convent was but a dejjendency of my Lord 
 Abbat Thurstan, and a succursal cell to Ely, ye may 
 judge whether the Lord of Brunn and those who 
 came with him met with hospitality ! Saxons and 
 strangers (and all landed from the barks as soon as 
 might be, and hastened to the convent) found suppers 
 and beds, or suppers and clean sweet rushes to lie 
 upon, either with the sub-prior or in the guest-house. 
 
 In the morning, as soon as it was light, Hereward, 
 Elfric, and the dark stranger, and a score of armed 
 
96 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 men, re-embarked in the good ship that had brought 
 them to Lynn, and proceeded up the river Ouse, 
 leaving the other four barks at their moorings under 
 the prior's wharf. These four craft were to keep a 
 good look-out, and in case of any armed ships coming 
 into the Wash they were to run, through the most 
 intricate passage, for Spalding ; but if no enemy 
 should appear (and of this there was scarcely a 
 chance, as the weather continued stormy, and the 
 Normans were bad seamen, and very badly provided 
 with shipping), they were all to wait at Lynn until 
 Lord Hereward should come back from Ely to lead 
 them to Spalding, and, further still, to his own house 
 at Brunn. 
 
 Broad and free was the river Ouse, and up as high 
 as the junction of the Stoke Lord Hereward's bark 
 was favoured by the tide as well as by the wind. 
 Above the Stoke the tide failed ; but the wind blew 
 steadily on, and many boats, with lusty rowers in 
 them, came down from Ely and Chettisham and 
 Littleport, and took the bark in tow, for the signal- 
 lights and fires which had guided the fleet into Lynn 
 had been can-ied across the fens and to the Abbey of 
 Ely, and had told my Lord Abbat that the Lord 
 Hereward was come. No bark had ever made such 
 voyage before, nor have many made it since ; but a 
 good while before the sun went down our Lynn 
 mariners made their craft fast to my Lord Abbat's 
 pier, and Hereward and his bold and trusty followers 
 landed in the midst of a throng ten times greater 
 and ten times more jubilant than that which had 
 welcomed them at Lynn. Before quitting the ship 
 Elfric put on his monastic habit. This he did not do 
 without a sigh ; and he carried with him under his 
 novice's gown the gay dress he had worn while in 
 
HE REWARD'S RETURN 97 
 
 foreign parts and on shipboard. Maybe he expected 
 that services might be required from him in which 
 such an attire would be useful ; or perhaps he hoped 
 that his superior of Spalding and the Abbat of 
 Crowland Avould, in considering the services he had 
 rendered already, determine in their wisdom that the 
 dress and calling of a monk were not those which 
 suited him best. Although not bound by any irrevoc- 
 able vow, Elfric was bound by the ties of gratitude 
 to Father Adhelm^ who had taken him into the 
 succursal cell at Spalding when a very young and 
 helpless orphan ; and Elfric would never have been 
 the man he proved himself if he had been forgetful 
 of duties and obligations. 
 
 At the outer gate of the convent Lord Hereward 
 was met and embraced and welcomed by the high- 
 hearted abbat of the house, by the Archbishop Sti- 
 gand, the Abbat of Crowland, and by all the prelates 
 and high churchmen ; and next by all the cloistered 
 monks of Ely ; and next by the lay lords and the 
 Saxon warriors of all parts : and all this right reverend 
 and right noble company shouted, ' Welcome to our 
 chief and our deliverer ! Honour and welcome to the 
 young Lord of Brunn ! ' 
 
 As Thurstan led the Saxon hero by the hand 
 towards his own Aula Magna, he said, ' But for the 
 solemn season, which brooks not much noise' (the 
 town folk, and the hinds that had come in from the 
 fens, and the novices and lay-brothers, wei-e continuing 
 to shout and make noise enough to wake the dead 
 that were sleeping in the cloisters), 'we would have 
 received you, my lord, with a great clattering of bells 
 and show of flags and banners ! Nevertheless thou 
 comest at a most suitable moment and on the very 
 verge of the most joyous of all seasons ; 'tis the vigil 
 
 o 
 
98 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 of the Nativity. On this Christmas Eve, like all well- 
 regulated religious houses and all good Chi'istians, we 
 fast upon a banquet of eels and fish. At midnight we 
 have the midnight mass, chanted in our best manner ; 
 and to-morrow we feast indeed, and give up all our 
 souls to joy. To-morrow, then, our bells shall be 
 struck upon so that the Norman knights and men-at- 
 arms shall hear them in Cam-Bridge Castle, and shall 
 tremble while they hear ! And our Saxon flags, and 
 the banners of our saints, yea, the great banner of 
 Saint Etheldreda itself, shall be hung out on our 
 walls ! And when the other duties of the day are 
 over, we will sing a Te Deiim laudamus for thy coming. 
 My Lord Hereward, I have not known such joy, or 
 half so much hope, since the day on which our good 
 Edward (Rex venerandus) put this ring upon my finger 
 and confirmed my election as abbat of this house ! 
 My hope then was that I should be enabled to be a 
 good ruler of this ancient brotherhood, and good lord 
 to all the Saxon folk that dwell on the land of Saint 
 Etheldreda. Now my higher hope is that thou wilt 
 be enabled, O Hereward, to free all England from 
 this cruel bondage ! ' 
 
 The young Saxon noble, being wholly a man of 
 action, and gifted with much modesty, made but a 
 very short reply to this and to other very long 
 speeches ; he simply said that he had come back to 
 get back his own, and to help his good countrymen 
 to get back their own ; that the Norman yoke was all 
 too grievous to be borne ; that it was very strange and 
 very sorrowful that brave King Harold came not back 
 to his faithful people of East Anglia ; and that, until 
 King Harold should come, he, Hereward, would do 
 his best for his friends and for himself. 
 
 Though all were eager to be informed of the 
 
HE REWARD'S RETURN P9 
 
 strength which the Lord of Brunn brought with him, 
 and of the plans he proposed to pursue, Thurstan 
 thought it churlish to question any man fasting. 
 Hereward, however, declared that he had fared well 
 on board the bark, and could well wait till supper- 
 time. And so, having closed the doors of the abbat's 
 great hall, the lords and prelates proceeded to de- 
 liberate with the dispossessed Lord of Brunn. The sum 
 of Hereward's replies to many questions and cross- 
 questions (he having no genius for narration) was 
 simply this : Elfric had found him out in Flanders, 
 and had delivered to him letters, and messages, and 
 tokens which had determined him to quit his adoptive 
 countiy and return to England. Many English exiles 
 who had been living in the Netherlands had made up 
 their minds to come over with him. Such money as 
 they could command among them all, or borrow at 
 interest from the traders of Flanders, who seriously 
 felt the loss of their trade with England, had been 
 applied to the purchase of warlike harness, and to 
 the hiring and equipping of three foreign barks. The 
 master of a bark from Lynn that chanced to be in 
 those parts had offered his bark and the services of 
 himself and crew for nothing, or for what his liege 
 lord the Abbat of Ely might at any time choose to 
 give him. The gold and silver which my Lord Abbat 
 had sent with Elfric had been properly and profitably 
 employed ; and, besides speax'-heads, and swords, and 
 bows, and jackets of mail, the Lynn bark now lying 
 at my Lord Abbat's pier, and the other Lynn bark 
 left behind at that town, had brought such a quantity 
 of Rhenish and Mosel wine as would suffice for the 
 consumption of the whole house until next Christmas. 
 Counting the men that had come in all the barks, 
 there were more than one hundred and ten true- 
 
100 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 liearted Saxons, well armed and equipped, and well 
 practised in the use of arms, as well in the Saxon 
 fashion as in the fashions used abroad ; and every one 
 of these men was proper to become a centurion, or 
 the trainer and leader of a hundred of our fenmen. 
 It was Lord Hereward's notion that our great house 
 at Ely and the Camp of Refuge would be best relieved 
 or screened from any chance of attack, by the Saxons 
 making at once a quick and sharp attack all along the 
 Norman lines or posts to the north and north-west of 
 the isle of Ely, or from Spalding to Brunn, and Crow- 
 land, and Peterborough. Some thought that his lord- 
 ship preferred beginning in this direction because 
 his own estates and the lady of his love were there : 
 we will not say that these considei*ations had no 
 weight with him, but we opine that his plan was a 
 good one, and that no great commander, such as 
 Hereward was, would have begun the war upon the 
 invaders in any other manner, time or place. Twenty 
 of the armed men he had brought with him from their 
 wearisome exile — or more than twenty if my Lord 
 Abbat thought fit — he would leave at Ely ; with the 
 rest, who had been left with the ships at Lynn, he 
 would go to the Welland river, and make a beginning. 
 
 ' But thou canst not go yet awhile,' said Abbat 
 Thurstan, thinking of the Christmas festivals and of 
 the Rhenish wines ; ' thou canst not quit us, my son, 
 until after the feast of the Epiphany ! 'Tis but 
 tAvelve days from to-morrow, and the Normans are 
 not likely to be a-stirring during those twelve days.' 
 
 'True, my Lord Abbat,' said Hereward, 'the 
 Normans will be feasting and rejoicing ; but it is on 
 that very account that I must go forthwith in order 
 to take them unprepared and attack their bands 
 separately^ while they are feasting. An ye, holy 
 
HEREWARD'S RETURN 101 
 
 brothers, give me your prayers, and the saints grant 
 me the success I expect, I shall have recovered for ye 
 the house at Spalding and the Abbey of Crowland, 
 and for myself mine humble house at Brunn, before 
 these twelve days be over.' 
 
 ' Then/ said the abbat, ' thou mayest be back and 
 keep the feast of the Epiphany with us.' 
 
 Hereward thought of keeping the feast in another 
 place and with a different company, but the eager 
 hospitality of Thurstan was not to be resisted, and 
 so he promised that he would return, if he could do 
 so without detriment to the business he had on hand. 
 But when he spoke of setting forth on the morrow 
 after high mass, not only the Lord Abbat, but every- 
 one that heard him, raised his voice against him, 
 and Hereward yielded to the argument that it would 
 be wicked to begin war on Christmas Day, or to do 
 any manner of thing on that day except praying and 
 feasting. 
 
 Something did Hereward say in praise of Elfric, 
 and of the ability, and courage, and quickness of 
 invention, he had displayed while on his mission in 
 foreign parts, and on shipboard. 
 
 ' Albeit,' said he, ' I would not rob my good friends 
 the Abbat of Crowland and the Prior of Spalding of so 
 promising a novice, I needs must think that he would 
 make a much better soldier than monk ; nor can I 
 help saying that I would rather have Elfric for my 
 messenger and aid in the field than any Saxon youth I 
 know, whether of low degree or high.' 
 
 ' My good brother of Crowland and I have been 
 thinking of these things,' said Abbat Thurstan ; ' and 
 these are surely days when the saints of England 
 require the services of men with steel caps on their 
 heads as much as they require the services of men 
 
102 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 with shaven crowns. Not that some of us that 
 wear cowls have not wielded arms and done good 
 battle in our day for the defence of our shrines and 
 houses.' 
 
 At this moment the eels and fish of the Christmas 
 Eve supper were all ready, and the best cask of Rhenish 
 which the bark had brought up to my Lord Abbat's 
 pier was broached. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LORD HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 
 
 In no time had there been at the house of Ely so 
 great and glorious a festival of the Nativity as that 
 holden in the year of grace one thousand and seventy, 
 the day after the return of the Saxon commander 
 Hereward, Lord of Brunn. Learned brothers of the 
 house have written upon it, and even to this day the 
 monks of Ely talk about it. On the day next after 
 the feast, several hours before sunrise, the mariners 
 in the unloaded bark were getting all ready to drop 
 down the Ouse to the good town of Lynn, and Lord 
 Hereward was communing with the Abbat Thurstan, 
 the Abbat of Crowland, and the Prior of Spalding, 
 in my Lord Abbat's bedchamber. The rest of the 
 prelates and lay lords were sleeping soundly in their 
 several apartments, having taken their leave of Here- 
 ward in a full carouse the night before. Many things 
 had been settled touching correspondence or communi- 
 cation, and a general co-operation and union of all 
 the Saxons in the Camp of Refuge and all that dwelt 
 in the fen country, whether in the isle of Ely, or in 
 the isle of Thorney, or in Lindsey, or in Holland, or 
 in other parts. Fresh assurances were given that 
 the chiefs and fighting men would all acknowledge 
 Hereward as their supreme commander, undertaking 
 nothing but at his bidding, and looking to none but 
 
 103 
 
104 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 him for their orders and instructions. Abbat Thur- 
 stan agreed to keep the score of men that had been 
 brought up to Ely in the bark, but he demurred 
 about receiving and entertaining, as the commander 
 of these men, the dai-k stranger with the hooked nose 
 and sharp eye. Hereward said that the stranger 
 was a man remarkably skilled in the science of war, 
 and in the art of defending places. Thurstan asked 
 whether he were sure that he was not a spy of the 
 Normans, or one that would sell himself to the 
 Normans for gold ? Then the Lord of Brunn told 
 what he knew, or that which he had been told, con- 
 cerning the dark stranger. He was from Italic, from 
 a region not very far removed from Rome and the 
 patrimony of St. Peter ; from the name of his town 
 he was hight Girolamo of Salerno. His countiy 
 had been all invaded, and devastated, and conquered 
 by Norman tribes, from the same evil hive which had 
 sent these depredators into merry England to make 
 it a land of woe. Robert Guiscard, one of twelve 
 brothers that were all conquerors and spoilers, had 
 driven Girolamo from his home and had seized upon 
 his houses and lands, and had abused the tombs of 
 his ancestors, even as the followers of William the 
 Bastard were now doing foul things with the graves 
 of our forefathers. After enduring wounds, and 
 bonds, and chains, Girolamo of Salerno had fled from 
 his native land for ever, leaving all that was his in 
 the hands of the Normans, and had gone over into 
 Sicilie to seek a new home and settlement among 
 strangers. But the Normans, who thought they had 
 never robbed enough so long as there were more 
 countries before them which they could rob and 
 conquer, crossed the sea into Sicilie under Roger 
 Guiscard, the brother of Robert, and made prey of 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 105 
 
 all that fair island seven years before the son of the 
 harlot of Falaise crossed the Channel and came into 
 England. Now Girolamo of Salerno had vowed upon 
 the relics of all the saints that were in the mother 
 church of Salerno, that he would never live under 
 the Norman tyranny ; and sundi*y of the Norman 
 chiefs that went over with Roger Guiscard to PaleiTno 
 had vowed upon the crosses of their swords that they 
 would hang him as a dangerous man if they could 
 but catch him. So Girolamo shook the dust of Sicilie 
 and Mongibel from his feet, and, crossing the seas 
 again, went into Grecia. But go where he would, 
 those incarnate devils the Normans would be after 
 him ! He had not long lived in Grecia ere Robert 
 Guiscard came over from Otrantum and Brundisium, 
 to spoil the land and occupy it ; therefore Girolamo 
 fled again, cursing the Norman lance. He had 
 wandered long and far in the countries of the Oi'ient : 
 he had visited the land of Egypt, he had been in 
 Palestine, in Jerusalem, in Bethlehem : he had stood 
 and prayed on the spot where our Lord was born, 
 and on the spot where He was crucified ; but, weary- 
 ing of his sojourn among Saracens, he had come 
 back to the Christian west to see if he could find 
 some home where the hated Normans could not 
 penetrate, or Avhere dwelt some brave Christian people 
 that were hopeful of fighting against those oppressors. 
 He was i-oaming over the earth in quest of enemies 
 to the Normans when Hereward met him, two years 
 ago, in Flanders, and took his hand in his as a sworn 
 foe to all men of that race. Was, then, Girolamo of 
 Salerno a likely man to be a spy or fautor to the 
 Normans in Enghmd ? Thurstan acknowledged that 
 he was not. 
 
 ' But,' said he, ' some men are so prone to suspicion 
 
106 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 that they suspect everybody and everythmg that is 
 near to them ; and some men, nay, even some monks 
 and brothers of this very house, are so envious of my 
 state and such foes to my peace of mind, that when- 
 ever they see me more happy and fuller of hope than 
 common, they vamp me up some story or conjure 
 some spectrum to disquiet me and sadden me. Now, 
 what said our prior and cellarer no later than last 
 night ? They said, in the hearing of many of this 
 house, inexpert novices as well as cloister-monks, that 
 the dark stranger must be either an unbelieving Jew 
 or a necromancer ; that when, at grand mass, the Host 
 was elevated in the church, he shot glances of fire at 
 it from his sharp eyes ; and that when the service was 
 over they found him standing behind the high altar 
 muttering what sounded very like an incantation, in a 
 tongue very like unto the Latin.' 
 
 Hereward smiled and said, ' Assuredly he was but 
 saying a prayer in his own tongue. My Lord Abbat, 
 this Girolamo of Salerno hath lived constantly with 
 me for the term of two years, and I will warrant him 
 as true a believer as any man in broad England. He 
 is a man of many sorrows, and no doubt of many 
 sins ; but as for his faith ! — why he is a living and 
 walking history of all the saints and martyrs of the 
 Church, and of every miraculous image of Our Ladie 
 that was ever found upon earth. His troubles and 
 his crosses and his being unable to speak our tongue, 
 or to comprehend what is said around him, may 
 make him look moody and wild, and very strange : 
 and I am told that in the country of his birth most 
 men have coal-black hair and dark flashing eyes ; but 
 that i^in Salerno there be no Israelites allowed, and 
 no necromancers or warlocks or witches whatsoever; 
 albeit, the walnut-tree of Beneventum, where the 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 107 
 
 witches are said to hold their sabbat, be not very 
 many leagues distant. In truth, my good Lord 
 Abbat, it was but to serve you and to serve your 
 friends and retainers, that 1 proposed he should stay 
 for a season where he is ; for I have seen such good 
 proofs of his skill in the stratagems of war, and have 
 been promised by him so much aid and assistance in 
 the enterprises I am going to commence, that I would 
 fain have him with me. I only thought that if he 
 stayed a while here in quiet, he might learn to speak 
 our tongue ; and that if during my absence the Nor- 
 mans should make any attempt from the side of Cam- 
 Bridge upon this blessed shrine of Saint Etheldreda, he 
 might, by his surpassing skill and knowledge of arms, 
 be of use to your lordship and the good brothers.' 
 
 ' These are good motives,' said Thurstan, ' and do 
 honour to thee, my son. It is not in my wont to bid 
 any stranger away from the house. . . . But — but this 
 stranger doth look so very strange and wild, that I 
 would rather he were away. Even our sub-sacrist, who 
 hath not the same nature as the prior and cellarer, 
 saith that all our flaxen-headed novices in the convent 
 are afraid of that thin dark man, and that they say 
 whenever the stranger's large black eye catches theirs 
 they cannot withdraw their eyes until he turns away 
 from them. I think, my Lord Hereward, the stranger 
 may learn our tongue in thy camp. I believe that the 
 Normans will not try on this side now that the waters 
 are all out, and our rivers and ditches so deep ; and if 
 they do we can give a good account of them — and that 
 I really do think that thou wilt more need than we 
 this knowing man's services : what say ye, my brother 
 of Crowland ? ' 
 
 The Abbat of Crowland was wholly of the opinion 
 of the Abbat of Ely, and so likewise was the prior of 
 
108 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Spalding. It was therefore agreed that Girolamo of 
 Salerno should accompany the young Lord of Brunn. 
 
 ' But/ said Hereward, ' in proposing to leave you 
 this strange man from Italic, I thought of taking from 
 you, for yet another while, that Saxon wight, Elfric, 
 seeing that he knoweth all this fen country better 
 than any man in my train ; and that, while I am going 
 round by the river and the Wash, I would fain despatch, 
 by way of the fens, a skilled and trustful messenger in 
 the direction of Ey ' 
 
 ' To salute the Ladie Alftrude, and to tell her that 
 thou art come/ said the Abbat of Crowland. 
 
 ' Even so/ quoth Hereward ; ' and to tell her more- 
 over to look well to her manor-house, and to let her 
 people know that I am come, and that they ought to 
 come and join me at the proper time.' 
 
 ' It is clear,' said the Prior of Spalding, ' that none 
 can do this mission an it be not Elfric, who knoweth 
 the goings and comings about the house at Ey ' 
 
 ' Ay, and the maid-servant that dwelleth within 
 the gates,' quoth the Abbat of Crowland. 
 
 The Prior of Spalding laughed, and eke my Lord 
 Abbat of Ely ; and when he had done his laugh, 
 Thurstan said, ' This is well said, and well minded ; 
 and as we seem to be all agreed that, upon various 
 considerations, it would be better to unfrock the young 
 man at once, let us call up Elfric, and release him 
 from his slight obligations, and give him to Lord 
 Herewai-d to do with him what he list. . What say ye, 
 my brothers ? ' 
 
 The two dignified monks said ' yea ' ; and Elfric 
 being summoned was told that henceforth he was Lord 
 Hereward's man, and that he might doff his cucullus, 
 and let his brown locks grow on his tonsure as fast as 
 they could grow. 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 109 
 
 The monk that sleeps in his horse-hair camise, and 
 that has nothing to put on when he rises but his hose 
 and his cloak, is not long a-dressing ; yet in less time 
 than ever monk attired himself, Elfric put on the 
 soldier garb that he had worn while abroad. And 
 then, having received from Hereward a signet-ring 
 and other tokens, and a long message for the Ladie 
 Alftrude, together with instructions how he was to 
 proceed after he had seen her ; and having bidden a 
 dutiful farewell and given his thanks to the Prior of 
 Spalding and to the two abbats, and having gotten the 
 blessing of all three, Elfric girded a good sword to his 
 loins, took his fen-staff in his hand, and went down to 
 the water-gate to get a light skerry, for the country 
 was now like one great lake, and the journey to Ey 
 must be mostly made by boat. 
 
 It was now nigh upon day-dawn. The Lord Abbat 
 and a few others accompanied the Lord of Brunn to 
 the pier, and saw him on board ; then the mariners 
 let go their last mooring, and the bark began to glide 
 down the river. 
 
 Before the light of this winter day ended, Hereward 
 was well up the Welland, and the whole of his flotilla 
 was anchored in that river not far from Spalding, 
 behind a thick wood of willows and alders, which 
 sufficed even in the leafless season to screen the barks 
 from the view of the Norman monks in the succursal 
 cell. 
 
 As soon as it was dark, Hereward, the liberator, took 
 one score and ten armed men into the lightest of the 
 barks, and silently and cautiously ascended the river 
 until he came close to the walls of the convent. The 
 caution was scarcely needed, for the Normans, albeit 
 they were ever reproaching the Saxons with gluttony 
 and drunkenness, were feasting and drinking at an 
 
no THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 immoderate rate, and had taken no care to set a watch. 
 Brightly the light of a great wood fire and of many 
 torches shone through the windows of the hall as 
 Hereward landed with his brave men and surrounded 
 the house, while the mariners were taking good care 
 of the ferry-boat. 
 
 ' If these men were in their own house,' said Here- 
 ward, ' it is not I that would disturb their mirth on 
 such a night ; but as they are in the house of other 
 men, we must even pull them forth by the ears. So ! 
 where be the ladders 'i ' 
 
 A strong ladder brought from the bark was laid 
 across the moat, and ten armed men passed one by 
 one over this ladder to the opposite side of the moat. 
 The well-armed men were led by the brother of 
 Wybert the wright, and by another of the men who 
 had fled from Spalding town on that wicked night when 
 Ivo Taille-Bois broke into the house. Now these two 
 men of Spalding well knew the strong parts and the 
 weak parts of the cell — as well they might, for they 
 had ofttimes helped to repair the woodwork and the 
 roof of the building. Having drawn the strong ladder 
 after them to the narrow ledge of masonry on which 
 they had landed, they raised it against the wall, and 
 while some steadied it, first one armed man and then 
 another climbed up by the ladder to the top of the 
 stone and brick part of the walls. Then the brother 
 of Wybert, climbing still higher, by clutching the 
 beams and the rough timber got to the house-top, and 
 presently told those below in a whisper that all was 
 right, that the door at the head of the spiral staircase 
 was unfastened and wide open. 
 
 In a very short time ten armed men and the two 
 hinds from Spalding town were safe on the roof; and 
 the brother of Wybert said, ' Now, Saxons ! ' and as he 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 111 
 
 heard the signal, Lord Hereward said, ' Now, Saxons, 
 your horns ! ' And three stout Saxons, well skilled in 
 the art of noise-making, put each his horn to his 
 mouth and sounded a challenge, as loud as they could 
 blow. Startled and wrathful, but not much alarmed, 
 was the intrusive prior from Angers when he heard 
 this noise, and bade his Angevin sacrist go to the 
 window, and see what the Saxon slaves wanted at this 
 time of night with their rascally cow-horns ! But 
 when the sacrist reported that he saw a great bark 
 lying in the river, and many armed men standing at 
 the edge of the moat (in the darkness the sacrist took 
 sundry stumps of willow-trees for warriors), the man 
 of Angers became alarmed, and all Ivo Taille-Bois's 
 kindred became alarmed, and quitting the blazing fire 
 and their good wine, they all ran to the windows of 
 the hall to see what was toward. As they were a 
 ruleless, lawless, unconsecrated rabble, who knew not 
 what was meant by monastic discipline, and respect, 
 and obedience, they all talked and shouted together, 
 and shouted and talked so loud and so fast that it was 
 impossible for any Christian man to be heard in answer 
 to them. But at length the pseudo-prior silenced the 
 gabble for a minute, and said, 'Saxons, who are you, 
 and what do you want at this hour, disturbing the 
 repose of holy men at a holy season ? ' 
 
 Even this was said in Norman-French, which no 
 man understood or could speak, except Hereward and 
 the dark stranger who had attended him hither. But 
 the Lord of Brunn gave out in good round French, 
 ' We are Saxons true, and true men to King Harold, 
 and we be come to pull you out of this good nest 
 which ye have defiled too long ! ' 
 
 ' Get ye gone, traitors and slaves ! ' cried the false 
 prior from Angers; 'ye cannot cross our moat nor 
 
112 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 force our gates, and fifty Norman lances are lying 
 hard by.' 
 
 ' False monk, we will see/ quoth the Lord of 
 Brunn. ' Now, Saxons, your blast-horns again ; blow 
 ye our second signal ! ' 
 
 The hornmen blew might and main ; and before 
 their last blast had ceased echoing from an angle of 
 the walls, another horn was heard bloAving inside the 
 house, and then was heard a rushing and stamping of 
 heavy feet, and a clanging of swords in the hall, and a 
 voice roaring, ' Let me cleave the skull of two of these 
 shavelings for the sake of Wybert the wright ! ' 
 
 ' Thou art cold and shivering, Girolamo,' said Here- 
 ward ; ' but step out of that quagmire where thou art 
 standing, and follow me. We will presently warm 
 ourselves at the fireside of these Frenchmen.' Giro- 
 lamo followed the Lord of Brunn to the front of the 
 house ; and they were scarcely there ere the draw- 
 bridge was down, and the gate thrown open. 
 
 ' Well done, Ralph of Spalding,' said Here ward, who 
 rushed into the house followed by the score of armed 
 men. But those who had descended from above by 
 the spiral staircase had left nothing to be done by 
 those who ascended from below. The false prior and 
 all his false fraternity had been seized, and had been 
 bound with their own girdles, and had all been thrown 
 in a corner, where they all lay sprawling the one on 
 the top of the other, and screaming and begging for 
 Misericorde. The brother of Wybert the wright had 
 given a bloody coxcomb to the prior, and one of Here- 
 ward's soldiers had slit the nose of a French monk 
 that had aimed at him with a pike ; but otherwise 
 little blood had been shed, and no great harm done, 
 save that all the stoups of wine and all the wine-cups 
 had been upset in the scuffle. The brother of Wybert 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 113 
 
 begged as a favour that he might be allowed to cut 
 the throats of two of the false monks ; but the Lord 
 of Brunn, so fierce in battle, was aye merciful in 
 the hour of victory, and never would allow the slaying 
 of prisoners, and so he told the good man of Spalding 
 town that the monks must not be slain ; but that, 
 before he had done with them, they should be made 
 to pay the price of his brother's blood; nay three 
 times the price that the Saxon laAvs put upon the life 
 of a man of Wybert's degree. 
 
 ' I would give up that bot for a little of their blood ! ' 
 said Wybert's brother. But, nevertheless, he was 
 obliged to rest satisfied ; for who should dare gainsay 
 the young Lord of Brunn ? 
 
 Girolamo of Salerno, who understood nought of the 
 debate between Hereward and the brother of Wybert, 
 thought that the intrusive monks ought to be put into 
 sacks and thrown into the river, inasmuch as that the 
 Normans, when they conquered Salerno, threw a score 
 of good monks of that town and vicinity into the sea ; 
 but when he delivered this thought unto the Lord 
 Hereward, that bold-hearted and kind-hearted Saxon 
 said that it was not the right way to correct cruelties 
 by committing cruelties, and that it was not in the 
 true English nature to be prone to revenge. All this 
 while, and a little longer, the false alien monks, with 
 their hands tied behind them, lay sprawling and 
 crying Misericorde : howbeit, when they saw and 
 understood that death was not intended, they plucked 
 up their courage and began to complain and reprove. 
 
 ' This is a foul deed,' said one of them, ' a very foul 
 deed, to disturb and break in upon, and smite with 
 the edge of the sword, the servants of the Lord.' 
 
 ' Not half so foul a deed,' quoth Hereward, ' as that 
 done by Ivo Taille-Bois, the cousin of ye all, and the 
 
114 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 man who put ye here, and thrust out tlie Saxon 
 brotherhood at the dead of night, slaying their cook. 
 Ye may or may not liave been servants of the Lord in 
 the countries from which he came, but here are ye 
 nought but intruders and usurpers, and the devourers 
 of better men's goods.' 
 
 Here the prior from Angers spoke from the heap in 
 the corner, and said : 
 
 ' For this night's work thou wilt be answerable unto 
 the king.' 
 
 'That will I,' quoth the Lord of Brunn, ' when bold 
 King Harold returns.' 
 
 ' I will excommunicate thee and thy fautors,' said 
 the intrusive prior. 
 
 ' Thou hadst better not attempt it,' said Hereward, 
 ' for among my merry men be some that know enough 
 of church Latin to make out the difference between a 
 Maledicite and a Benedlcite ; and I might find it difficult 
 to prevent their cutting your weazens.' 
 
 ' Yet would I do it by bell, book, and candle, if I 
 could get the bell and candle, and read the book,' said 
 the intrusive prior. 
 
 ' Thou hadst better not attempt it,' said two or three 
 voices from the heap ; but another voice, which seemed 
 buried under stout bodies and habits and hoods, said : 
 
 ' There is no danger, for our prior cannot read, and 
 never had memory enough to say by heart more 
 Latin than lies in a Credo. Beshrew you, brothers 
 all, bespeak these Saxons gently, so that they may 
 give us leave to go back into Normandie. If I had 
 bethought rae that I was to play the monk in this 
 fashion, Ivo Taille-Bois should never have brought me 
 from the plough-tail ! ' 
 
 When the Lord of Brunn and Girolamo of Salerno 
 had done laughing, the Lord Hereward said : 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 115 
 
 ' Let this goodly hall be cleared of this foul rubbish. 
 Girolamo, see these intruders carried on board the 
 bark and thrown into the hold. We will send them 
 to my Lord Abbat at Ely, that they may be kept as 
 hostages. But tell the shipmen not to hurt a hair of 
 their heads.' 
 
 When the alien monks understood that they must 
 go, they clamoured about their goods and propei'ties. 
 This made Hereward wroth, and he said : 
 
 ' When ye thrust out the good English monks, ye 
 gave them nought ! Nevertheless 1 will give ye all 
 that ye brought with ye.' 
 
 Here the voice that had spoken before from under 
 the heap said : 
 
 ' We all know we brought nothing with us — no, not 
 so much as the gear we wear ! Therefore let us claim 
 nothing, but hasten to be gone^ and so hope to get 
 back the sooner into Normandie.' 
 
 But the prior and the sacrist and divers others 
 continued to make a great outcry about their goods, 
 their holy-books, their altar vases, their beds and their 
 bed-clothes ; and as this moved Lord Hereward' s ire, 
 he said to his merry men that they must turn them 
 out ; and the merry men all did turn them out by 
 pulling them before and kicking them behind : and in 
 this manner the unlettered and unholy crew that Ivo 
 Taille - Bois had thrust into the succursal cell of 
 Spalding were lugged and driven on shipboard, and 
 there they were made fast under the hatches. 
 
 As soon as they were all cleared out of the convent, 
 Lord Hereward bade his Saxons put more fuel on the 
 fire, and bring up more wine, and likewise see what might 
 be in the buttery. The brother of Wybert the wright 
 knew the way well both to cellar and buttery ; and 
 finding both well filled, he soon reappeared with wine 
 
116 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and viands enough. And so Hereward and his men 
 warmed themselves by the blazing fire, and ate and 
 drank most merrily and abundantly; and when all 
 had their fill, and all had drunk a deep health to 
 Hereward the liberator, they went into the monks' 
 snug cells, and so fast to sleep. 
 
 On the morrow morning they rose betimes. So 
 featly had the thing been done over night, that none 
 knew it but those who had been present. The good 
 folk that yet remained in Spalding town, though so 
 close at hand, had heard nothing of the matter. 
 Hereward now summoned them to the house ; but 
 having his reasons for wishing not to be known at 
 this present, he deputed one of his men to hold a 
 conference with them, and to tell the few good men 
 of Spalding that the hour of deliverance was at hand, 
 that their false monks had been driven away, and 
 that Father Adhelm and their true monks would soon 
 return : whereat the Spalding folk heartily rejoiced. 
 In the present state of the road, or rather of the 
 waters, there was no fear of any Norman force ap- 
 proaching the succursal cell. Therefore Lord Hereward 
 ordered that much of his munition of war should be 
 landed and deposited in the convent ; and leaving 
 therein all his armed men with Girolamo of Salerno, 
 he embarked alone in the lightest of his barks, and 
 went up the river as far as the point that was nearest 
 to Brunn. There, leaving the bark and all the 
 sailors, and taking with him nought but his sword and 
 his fen-staff, and covering himself with an old and 
 tattered seaman's coat, he landed and struck across 
 the fens, and walked, waded, leaped, and swam, until 
 he came within sight of his own old manor house and 
 the little township of Brunn. It was eventide, and 
 the blue smoke was rising from the manor-house and 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 117 
 
 from the town, as peacefully as in the most peaceful 
 days. Hereward stopped and looked upon the tranquil 
 scene, as he had done so many times before at the 
 same hour in the days of his youth, when returning 
 homeward from some visit, or from some fowling in 
 the fens ; and as he looked, all that had since passed 
 became as a dream ; and then he whistled and stepped 
 gaily forward, as if his father's house was still his own 
 house, and his father there to meet and bless him. 
 But, alack ! his father was six feet under the sod of 
 the churchyard, and a fierce Norman was in the house, 
 with many men-at-arms. Awakening from his evening 
 dream, and feeling that the invasion of England was 
 no dream — the bloody battle of Hastings no dream — 
 the death of his father no dream — and that it was a 
 sad reality that he was a dispossessed man, barred out 
 by force and by fraud from his own, the young Lord 
 of Brunn avoided the direct path to the manor-house, 
 and struck into a narrow sloppy lane which led into 
 the township. As he came among the low houses, or 
 huts, the good people were beginning to bar their 
 doors for the night. 
 
 ' They will open,' said Hereward, ' when they know 
 who is come among them ! ' 
 
 He made straight for the abode of one who had 
 been his foster-brother ; and he said as he entered it : 
 
 ' Be there true Saxon folk in the house .'' ' 
 
 ' Yea,' said the man of the house. 
 
 'Then wilt thou not be sorry to see Hereward the 
 Saxon and thy foster-brother ' ; and so saying he un- 
 muffled himself and threw off his dirty ship cloak. 
 
 And his foster-brother fell at his feet and kissed his 
 hand, and hugged his knee, and said, 'Is it even my 
 young Lord Hereward ? ' and so wept for joy. 
 
 ' It is even I,' said the young Lord of Brunn ; 'it is 
 
118 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 even I come back to get mine own^ and to get back 
 for every honest man his own. But honest men must 
 up and help. Will the honest folk of Brunn strike a 
 blow for Hereward and for themselves ? Will the 
 town-people^ and my kith and kindred and friends in 
 the old days^ receive and acknowledge me ? ' 
 
 It was the wife of the foster-brother that was now 
 kneeling and clasping Hereward's knee, and that said : 
 
 'The women of Brunn would brand every caitiff in 
 the township that did not throw up his cap and rejoice, 
 and take liis bill-hook and bow in his hand for the 
 young Lord of Brunn ! ' 
 
 Every one of the notables was summoned presently ; 
 and they all recognised Hereward as their true lord 
 and leader, vowing at the same time that they would 
 follow him into battle against the Normans, and do 
 his bidding whatever it might be. Many were the 
 times that Hereward was forced to put his finger upon 
 his lip to recommend silence ; for they all wanted 
 to hail his return with hearty Saxon shouts, and he 
 wanted to avoid rousing the Normans in the manor- 
 house for the present. The welcome he received left 
 him no room to doubt of the entire affection and devo- 
 tion of the town-folk ; and the intelligence he gleaned 
 was more satisfactory than he had anticipated. Raoul, a 
 Norman knight, and, next to Ivo Taille-Bois, the most 
 powerful and diabolical of all the Normans in or near 
 to the fen-country, held the manor-house, and levied 
 dues and fees in the township ; but many of those who 
 dwelt in the neighbourhood, and who had held their 
 lands under the last quiet old Lord of Brunn, had 
 never submitted to the intruder, nor had Raoul and 
 his men-at-arms been able to get at them in their 
 islands among the fens and deep waters. There was 
 John of the Bogs, who had kept his house and gear 
 
HEREVVARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN II9 
 
 untouched, and who could muster a score or twain of 
 lusty hinds, well armed with pikes and bill-hooks and 
 bows ; there was Ralph of the Dyke, the chamberlain 
 of the last Lord of Brunn, who had beaten off Raoul 
 and his men-at-arms in a dozen encounters ; there 
 were other men, little less powerful than these two, 
 who would be up and doing if Lord Hereward would 
 only show himself, or only raise his little finger. The 
 manor-house was well fortified and garrisoned ; but 
 what of that ? For Lord Hereward it should be 
 stormed and taken, though it should cost a score or 
 twain of lives. Here the young Lord of Brunn told 
 them that he hoped to get back his house without 
 wasting a single drop of the blood of any of them, 
 inasmuch as he had practised men of war not far 
 from hand, together with engines of war proper for 
 sieges. He bade them spread far and near the news 
 of his return : he begged them to do this cautiously, 
 and to remain quiet until he should come back among 
 them ; in the meanwhile they might be making such 
 preparations for war as their means allowed. To- 
 morrow night it would be the full of moon : and as 
 soon as the good town-folk should see the moon rising 
 over Elsey Wood they might expect him and his 
 force. And now he must take a short repast and a 
 little sleep, so as to be able to commence his return 
 to the Welland river before midnight. 
 
 Long before midnight Hereward was on his way; 
 but he travelled with much more ease than he had 
 done in coming to Brunn, for his foster-brother and 
 two other trusty men can*ied him in a boat the 
 greater part of the way. 
 
 Being again at Spalding, the apjn-oaches to which 
 had been curiously strengthened, during his short 
 absence, by Girolamo of Salerno, Hereward sent off 
 
120 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 one of the barks for Ely to convey the news of his 
 first success and the prisoners he had made to the 
 Lord Abbat, and to bring back the good prior of 
 Spalding to his own cell ; he left one bark moored 
 below Spalding to watch the lower part of the river, 
 and prevent any but friendly boats from ascending 
 (there was little danger of any Norman coming this 
 way ; but a good commander like the Lord of Brunn 
 leaves nothing to chance, and neglects no precaution) ; 
 and with the three other barks and Girolamo and 
 twenty of his armed men he began to move up the 
 river on the following morning. Ten men were left 
 to hold the succursal cell, and protect the township 
 of Spalding ; and all such war-stores as were not 
 immediately required were left in the convent. The 
 three barks were to be moored near to the point of 
 debarkation, so as to prevent any communication be- 
 tween Crowland and Spalding, it being very ex- 
 pedient to keep the intrusive monks at Crowland 
 ignorant of what had passed and what was passing. 
 True, these unholy Norman friars were feasting and 
 keeping their Christmas, and wei'e little likely to 
 move out at such a season, or to take heed of any- 
 thing that was happening beyond the walls of their 
 own house : but Hereward, as we have said, neglected 
 no precaution ; and therefore it was that the Lord of 
 Brunn was ever successful in war. 
 
 When he and his troops landed at the bend of the 
 river that was nearest to Brunn, it was made visible to all, 
 and not without manifest astonishment, that Girolamo 
 of Salerno could do many wondrous things. Under his 
 direction light and shallow skerries, and boats made 
 of wicker-work, and lined with skins, had been pre- 
 pared ; and while these were capable of carrying men 
 and stores across the deeper streams that lay between. 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 121 
 
 the bend of the Welland and the town of Brunn, they 
 \vex*e so Hght that they could easily be carried on 
 the men's shoulders. A catapult and another engine 
 which Hereward had purchased in Flanders were 
 taken to pieces in oi'der to be carried in these boats 
 and skerries ; the more precious parts of the munition 
 of warj which Girolamo had made with his own hands 
 before embarking for England, were most carefully 
 wrapped up in many cloths and skins^ so that even 
 in that wettest of countries they could not be wetted. 
 There was one small package, a very small package 
 was it, of which the dark stranger took especial care, 
 carrying it himself, and telling Hereward that with 
 its contents he could open the gates of the strongest 
 of houses. 
 
 Notwithstanding the weight of their arms, and of 
 the other burdens they had to bear from one stream 
 or mere to another, the whole party pushed steadily 
 forward across the more than half-inundated fens ; 
 and although some of the men, not being native fen- 
 men, were not practised in such travelling, and al- 
 though some of them could not swim, they all reached 
 in safety a broad dry dyke near to the back of the 
 township of Brunn a good hour before the full moon 
 began to rise over Elsey-Wood. Having seen every- 
 thing safely landed, Hereward walked alone into the 
 town, going straight to the house of his foster-brother. 
 But before he got into the rambling street he was 
 accosted by three tall Saxons, who said, ' Is it our 
 Lord Hereward ? ' 
 
 ' Yea ; and are ye ready to be stirring } Have ye 
 collected a few true men that will strike a blow for 
 the houseless Lord of Brunn .'' ' 
 
 'Thou shalt see, my Lord,' said one of the three, 
 who was no less a man than John of the Bogs, and 
 
122 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 clapping his hands thrice, three score and more 
 Saxons armed with bows and bills, and some of them 
 with swords and battle-axes, started forth from behind 
 so many alders and willow-trees ; and at that moment 
 the broad full moon showed her bright, full face over 
 the bare trees of Elsey-Wood. The men had been 
 well taught, and so they did not rend the air with a 
 shout which might have startled the Normans in the 
 manor-house ; but every man of them, whether free- 
 man or serf, knelt at Lord Herewai-d's feet, and kissed 
 his hand. 
 
 The score of armed men and all that had been 
 brought with them from Spalding were soon carried 
 into town. A supper was all ready, and smoking on 
 the table of Lord Hereward's foster-brother. Every 
 man was welcomed as one amongst brethren, albeit 
 these simple-minded men of Brunn started and looked 
 askance when they saw the dark stranger with the 
 hooked nose and fiery eyes ; and much they marvelled 
 all when they heard the young Lord of Brunn talking 
 with this stranger in an unknown tongue. 
 
 ■^VVouldst thou have possession of thine house to- 
 night or to-morrow morning.''' said Girolamo. 'At 
 the hazard of burning a part of it I could gain thee 
 admittance in less than half an hour by means of my 
 Greek fire.' 
 
 ' I would not have a plank of the dear old place 
 burned,' said Hereward. 'I would rather delay my 
 entrance till the morning.' 
 
 ' Then this must be a busy night,' replied the dark 
 man. 
 
 And a busy night it was ; for lo ! in the morning, 
 when Raoul the Norman knight awoke from the 
 deep sleep which had followed his heavy overnight's 
 carouse, and looked forth from his chamber in the 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 123 
 
 tower over the gateway of the manor-house, he saw 
 what seemed another and a taller tower on the 
 opposite side of the moat ; and what seemed a bridge 
 of boats laid across the moat ; and in the tower were 
 archers with their bows bent, and men-at-arms with 
 swords and battle-axes. Raoul rubbed his eyes, and 
 still seeing the same sight, thought it all magic or a 
 dream. But there was more magic than this, for 
 when he called up his sleepy household, and his care- 
 less and over-confident men-at-arms, and went round 
 the house, he saw another bridge of boats leading to 
 the postern-gate at the back of the house, and beyond 
 that bridge he saw a catapult with a score of armed 
 men standing by it. But look where he would, there 
 were armed men ; the manor-house was surrounded, 
 and surrounded in such fashion that there could be no 
 egress from it, and small hope of defending it. The 
 despairing Norman knight, therefore, went back to 
 his tower over the gateway, and called a parley. 
 
 ' What would ye, O Saxons .-* ' said Raoul ; ' know 
 ye not that ye are breaking the king's peace ? Who 
 is your leader, and what wants he .'' ' 
 
 ' I am their leader and lord,' quoth Hereward, 
 speaking from that marvellous wooden tower which 
 Girolamo had caused to be raised ; ' I am their leader 
 and the Lord of Brunn, and all that I want is to get 
 possession of my house and lands. So come forth, 
 Norman, and fear not ! Thou and thy men shall 
 have quarter and kindly treatment. But if ye seek 
 to resist, or let fly so much as one arrow upon these 
 my good people, by all the saints of old England I 
 will hang ye all on one gibbet.' 
 
 ' What shall we do in this strait ? ' said Raoul to 
 his seneschal. 
 
 ' Take terms and surrender,' quoth the seneschal ; 
 
124 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 'for the house cannot be defended against the host 
 that is come against it, and against the engines of war 
 that are raised against it. Three butts of that catapult 
 would shiver the postern gate ; that tower in front 
 commands the battlements ; the bridges of boats will 
 give access to every part of the walls. This could not 
 be done in one short night, except by magic ; but 
 magic is not to be withstood by sinful men-at-arms, 
 and our chaplain is gone to feast with the monks of 
 Crowland. Moreover, O, Raoul, we have consumed 
 nearly all our jirovisions in our own feastings, and so 
 should starve in a day or two if we could hold out so 
 long — but that is impossible.' 
 
 ' But/ said Raoul, ' be there not some twenty or 
 thirty Norman lances no further off than in the town 
 of Stamford } ' 
 
 ' But they cannot cross the wide watery fens ; and 
 if they were here they could not charge among these 
 accursed bogs.' 
 
 '^'Tis all too true,' quoth Raoul, 'and therefore must 
 we surrender.' 
 
 The Norman knight spoke again to Hereward, who 
 stood on the tower, looking like the good soldier and 
 great lord that he was ; and Raoul bargained to give 
 immediate admittance to the Saxons, if the Saxons 
 would only grant life and liberty to him and his gar- 
 rison, with permission to carry off such arms and pro- 
 perty as were their own. 
 
 '^Life and security of limb ye shall have,' said Here- 
 ward, ' and liberty ye shall have likewise when good 
 King Harold comes back and peace is restored ; but, 
 in the meantime, I must have ye kept as hostages, and 
 sent to Ely to do penance for your sins ; your anns 
 must remain with us who want them; but an ye brought 
 any other property with ye beyond the clothes on your 
 
HEREWARD GOES TO GET HIS OWN 125 
 
 backs, it shall be restored upon your solemn oaths that 
 ye did not get it by robbery here in England ! ' 
 
 ' These are harsh terms,' muttered Raoul ; ' but, 
 Saxon, thou art no knight.' 
 
 ' I soon shall be one,' quoth Hereward ; 'but that is 
 nought to thee. So come out of mine house^ and save 
 me the trouble of hanging thee. Come out, I say, ye 
 Norman thieves, and give me up mine own ! ' 
 
 And Raoul, seeing nothing better for it, pulled down 
 a flag which some too confident wight had raised over 
 the battlements ; and the drawbridge being let down, 
 and the front gate opened, he and all his Normans 
 came forth and laid down their armour and their arms 
 at the feet of Hereward the Saxon. 
 
 Even thus did the young Lord of Brunn get his own 
 again. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 ELFRIC THE EX-NOVICE, AND GIROLAMO OF SALERNO, 
 PREPARE TO PLAY AT DEVILS 
 
 A FEAST was prepared in the great hall of the manor- 
 house, and the young Lord of Brunn wns about sitting 
 down to table with his kinsmen and the good friends 
 that had rallied round him in the hour of need, when 
 Elfrie arrived at Brunn from the house of the Ladie 
 Alftrude at Ey. To look at Lord Hereward's glad 
 countenance as he talked in a corner of the hall with 
 the new comer, one Avould have thought that he had 
 won a fairer house and a wider domain than those of 
 his ancestors of which he had repossessed himself in the 
 morning. And for that matter he had won or was win- 
 ning his way to a better house and greater estate ; for 
 had not the fair young heiress of Ey sent again to tell 
 him that she abided by her troth-plight, and looked 
 for him to come and rescue her from that burthensorae 
 and dishonouring protection of the Normans under 
 which she had been living ! The retainers of her father's 
 house, and all the hinds and serfs, were devoted to her 
 and ready to receive the young Lord of Brunn as their 
 own liege lord and deliverer. Her friends and neigh- 
 bours had all been consulted, and would assemble in 
 arms and meet Lord Hereward at any hour and place 
 that it might suit him to name. Save some few men- 
 at-arms that were at Crowland to protect the intrusive 
 
 126 
 
C ROWLAND DEVILS 127 
 
 Norman monks, there was no Norman force nearer to 
 Ey than Stamford. The season of the year and all 
 things were favourable for recoverhig the whole of the 
 fen-country, and for driving the invaders from every 
 country in the neighbourhood of the fens. 
 
 After putting a few questions to Elfric, such as 
 lovers usually put to their pages when they come from 
 seeing their ladie-loves, Hereward asked what force 
 there might be in Crowland Abbey. Elfric said that 
 there might be one knight and from ten to fifteen 
 men-at-arms ; but then all the monks that had been 
 so recently brought over from France were fighting 
 men, at a pinch ; and these intruders were from thirty 
 to forty in number, and well provided with weapons 
 and warlike harness. The young man also bade I^ord 
 Hereward reflect that the great house at Crowland 
 was not like the cell at Spalding, but a lofty and 
 very strong place, and built mostly of stone and 
 brick. Elfric too had learned that Crowland was well 
 stored with provisions, so that it might stand a long 
 siege. 
 
 'And yet,' said the Lord of Brunn, 'it is upon the 
 great house of Crowland that I would fain make my 
 next attempt ; and great in every way are the advan- 
 tages that would follow the capture of that strong and 
 holy place, and the immediate restoration of the true 
 Saxon Lord Abbat and his dispossessed brethren.' 
 
 ' My silly head hath been venturing to think of this,' 
 said Elfric, ' and I very believe that with the aid of 
 Girol\mo and with a little of that blue fire and stink- 
 ing smoke wliich he hath the trick of making, I could 
 drive knight, men-at-arms, and monks all out of the 
 abbey without any loss or let to our good Saxons.' 
 
 ' Why, what wouldst do } ' said Hereward. 
 
 ' Only this, my lord. I would make the Normans 
 
128 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 believe that all the blubber-devils of Crovirland were 
 come back to earth to drive them from the house.' 
 
 ' I see, yet do not fully comprehend,' said Lord 
 Hereward ; ' but we will talk of these things with 
 Girolamo to-night, when this my first feast as Lord of 
 Brunn is over, and when every Saxon shall have seen 
 that the hospitality of mine ancestors is not to know 
 decrease in me.' 
 
 And late that night, when Hereward's first and most 
 bountiful feast was over, and when his guests had be- 
 taken themselves to the town of Brunn, or to their 
 beds or to clean hay and rushes in the manor-house, 
 Elfric and Girolamo followed Hereward to his inner 
 chamber, and consulted with him about the best means 
 of driving out the French from Crowland. First cross- 
 ing himself — for although he feared not man, he had a 
 lively dread of all manner of goblins and demons — the 
 Lord of Brunn said, ' Elfric, thou mayest now tell us 
 about thy Crowland devils.' 
 
 ' You wist well, my lord,' said Elfric, ' for who should 
 know it better, that in the heathenish times the Avhole 
 of the isle of Crowland and all the bogs and pools 
 round about were haunted day and night, but most at 
 night, by unaccountable troops and legions of devils, 
 with blubber-lips, fiery mouths, scaley faces, beetle 
 heads, sharp long teeth, long chins, hoarse throats, 
 black skins, hump shoulders, big bellies, burning loins, 
 bandy legs, cloven hoofs for feet, and long tails at 
 their buttocks. And who so well as your lordship 
 knoweth that these blubber-fiends, angered at that 
 their fens and stinking pools should be invaded, 
 allowed our first monks of Crowland no peace nor truce, 
 but were for ever gibing and mowing at them, biting 
 them with their sharp teeth, switching them with their 
 filthy tails, putting dirt in their meat and drink, nipping 
 
C ROWLAND DEVILS 129 
 
 tliera by the nose, giving them cramps and rheums and 
 shivering agues and burning fevers, and fustigating 
 and tormenting not a few of the friars even to death ! 
 And your lordship knows that these devils of Crowland 
 were not driven away until the time when that very 
 pious man Guthlaeus became a hermit there, and cut 
 the sluices that lead from the fetid pools to the flowing 
 rivers. Then, in sooth, the devils of Crowland were 
 beaten off by prayer and by holy water, and the 
 horrible blue lights which they were wont to light 
 upon the most fetid of the pools, ceased to be seen of 
 men.' 
 
 ' All this legend I know full well,' said the Lord of 
 Brunn, explaining it to Girolarao of Salerno, who 
 crossed himself many times as he heard the descrip- 
 tion of the very hideous Crowland devils. 
 
 ' All that dwell in the fen-country know the legend,' 
 continued Elfric ; ' the house of Crowland is full of 
 the legend, and the usurping Norman crew must 
 know the legend well, and in the guilt of their con- 
 science must needs tremble at it ! The devils are 
 painted in cloister and corridor, their blue lights are 
 painted, as they used to appear to our first good 
 monks ; land the most pious anchorite Guthlaeus is 
 depicted in the act of laying the evil ones. If a 
 Saxon saint laid them, these Norman sinners have 
 done enough to bring them back again ; and it can 
 only be by the bones of our saints and the other 
 Saxon relics that lie in the church of Crowland, that 
 the devils of Crowland are prevented from returning. 
 Now all that I would do is this : I would haunt the 
 house and the fens round about with sham devils, 
 and so make these Norman intruders believe that the 
 old real blubber-fiends were upon them ! I do not 
 believe they would stand two days and nights of such 
 
 I 
 
130 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 a siege as I could give them, if your lordship would 
 but consent and Girolamo lend his aid.' 
 
 ' But were it not sinful for christened Saxon men to 
 play at devils ? ' 
 
 'Assuredly not, when playing against devils like 
 these Normans, and for a holy end, and for the 
 restoration of such good men and true Saxons as 
 my Lord Abbat of Crowland and his expelled brother- 
 hood.' 
 
 Hereward put the question, as a case of conscience, 
 to Girolamo, as vir bonus ct sapiens, a good man and 
 learned ; and Girolamo was of opinion that, as the 
 wicked ofttimes put on the semblance of saints to do 
 mischief, the good might, with certain restrictions, be 
 allowed to put on the semblance of devils to do good. 
 His patx'on Hereward, he said, would give him credit 
 for being a true believer, and a devout, though weak 
 and sinful, son of the church, yet would he think it no 
 sin to play the part of a Crowland devil, or to give to 
 Elfric the benefit of his science in making ghastly blue 
 lights, or in causing flames to appear on the surface of 
 the stagnant waters, or in fact in doing anything that 
 might be required of him in order to scare away the 
 Normans. Hereward had still some misgivings, but he 
 yielded to the representations of Elfric and the exceed- 
 ing great earnestness of Girolamo ; and when he dis- 
 missed them for the night he said : 
 
 ' Well, since you will have it so, go and play at devils 
 in Crowland. Only have a care that ye be not taken or 
 slain, and be back to this house as soon as ye can ; for 
 if Crowland cannot be taken, we must try and blockade 
 it, and proceed to Ey to collect more strength.' 
 
 ' I have good hope, my lord,' said Girolamo ; ' for 
 with my white magic I can do things that will cai-ry 
 terror to the hearts of these untaught Normans ; and 
 
CROW LAND DEVILS 131 
 
 then this young man Elfric hath ever succeeded in 
 all that he hath attempted : he already knoweth 
 enough of my language (thanks to the little Latin 
 he got as a novice) to make out my meaning and to 
 act as my interpreter to others. He tells me that 
 even should the devil experiment fail, he can assure 
 our reti'eat, with scarcely any chance of danger.' 
 
 ' Then go, Girolamo, and take with thee such men 
 and boats and other appliances as thou mayest need. 
 But have a care, for I have work on hand that cannot 
 be done without thee ; and if I lose Elfric I lose the 
 nimblest- witted of all my Saxons. So good night, and 
 may the blessed saints go with you both, although you 
 be dressed in devils' skin ! ' 
 
 'Brother devil, that is to be,' said Elfric to the 
 Salernitan, ' there be bulls' hides and bulls' horns in 
 the out-houses ; and good coils of iron chain in the 
 kitchen, to do the clanking.' 
 
 ' Boy,' said Girolamo, ' thou hast but a vulgar idea 
 about demons ! Dost think I am going to make jack- 
 pudding devils, such as are gazed at at wakes and 
 comitry fairs ? No, no ; I Avill give you devils of another 
 sort, I guess. But leave all that to me, and apply your 
 own mind to the means of getting into the house at 
 Crowland or of establishing a correspondence therein, 
 so that the Normans may be devil-ridden inside as well 
 as outside.' 
 
 ' And do thou, great master Girolamo, leave that to 
 me,' said Elfric, ' for I know some that are within the 
 house of Crowland that would face the real devil and 
 all his legions for the chance of driving out the French 
 abbat and friars ; and if I myself do not know every 
 dark corner, every underground passage, and every 
 hiding-hole in and about the house, why there is no 
 one living that hath such knowledge.' 
 
132 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Here the two separated. The young Saxon lay 
 down on some ruslies near the door of Lord Hereward's 
 chamber, and pulling his cloak over his face was soon 
 fast asleep : the Salernitan, who had a chamber all to 
 himself, sat up till a late hour among the packages and 
 vessels he had brought with him : and yet was he 
 ready to start on his journey for Crowland at the first 
 glimpse of day. Those who entered his room in the 
 morning, just after he was gone, smelt a strong smell 
 of sulphur : and, sorely to Girolamo's cost, some louts 
 remembered this smell at a later season. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE HOUSE AT CROAVLAND 
 
 Compared with Crowland, Ely was quite a dry place : 
 there the abbey church and conventual buildings stood 
 upon a hill and on firm hard ground ; but here all the 
 edifices stood upon piles driven into the bog, and 
 instead of a high and dry hill, there was nothing but 
 a dead wet flat, and, unless in those parts where the 
 monastery and the town stood, the ground was so rot- 
 ten and boggy that a pole might be thrust down thirty 
 feet deep. Next to the church was a grove of alders, 
 but there was nothing else round about but water and 
 bogs, and the reeds that grow in water. In short this 
 Crowland, both in the situation and nature of the 
 place, was a marvel even in the fen-country ; and, 
 certes, it was different from all places in any other 
 part of England. Lying in the worst part of the fens, 
 it was so enclosed and encompassed with deep bogs 
 and pools, that there was no access to it except on the 
 north and east sides, and there too only by narrow 
 causeways. Even in the summer season the cattle 
 and flocks were kept at a great distance, there being 
 no pasture-land upon which they could be placed with- 
 out danger of seeing them swallowed up ; so that when 
 the owners would milk their cows they went in boats, 
 by them called skerries, and so small that they would 
 carry but two men and their milk-pails. There was 
 
 133 
 
134 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 no corn growing within five miles of Crowland. The 
 greatest gain was fi'ora the fish and wild-ducks that 
 were caught ; and the ducks were so many that the 
 Crowland fowlers could at times drive into a single 
 net three thousand ducks at once ; and so the good 
 people called these pools their real corn-fields. For 
 this liberty of fishing and fowling they paid yearly to 
 the Lord Abbat a very round sum of money : and, we 
 ween, the abbat and the monks had ever the choice of 
 the best fowls and fishes they caught. That holy man 
 Guthlacus, who had laid the Crowdand devils, and who 
 had cut the sluices that led from the fetid pools to the 
 flowing rivers, had also made the causeways which 
 gave access to the town and monastery. Those narrow- 
 but solid roads of wood and gravel ran across the 
 deepest marshes, and had wullows and aldei's growing 
 on either side of them : they were marvellous works 
 for the times ; and do we not see in our own day a 
 ])yramidal stone on the causeway leading to the north, 
 inscribed with the name of Guthlacus ? Much had 
 this beatified anchorite done to alter the face of the 
 country ; yet many of the foulest pools remained, and 
 could not be purified. The town was separated from 
 the abbey by a broad stream, and three other streams 
 or water-courses flowed through the town, separating 
 the streets from each other ; the streets were planted 
 with willows ; and the houses raised on piles driven 
 into the bottom of the bog; and the people of one 
 street communicated with the people of another street 
 by means of light flying-bridges or by means of their 
 skerries. A bold people they were, and hardy and 
 dexterous withal, for their lives were spent in hazard- 
 ous fowling and fishing, and in toiling over measure- 
 less waters and quagmires. Fenners must be bold 
 and expert men, or they must starve. Moreover the 
 
THE HOUSE AT CROWLAND 135 
 
 folk of Crowland town were very devout and constant 
 in their worship of the Saxon saints and had a laud- 
 able affection for their dispossessed Saxon monks and 
 Lord Abbat : although in the time of King Edward, 
 of happy memory^ when they knew not what real 
 sorrow or trouble was^ they would at times murmur 
 to my Lord Abbat's chamberlain about the money 
 they were called upon to pay, and at times they would 
 even quarrel lustily with the purveyors of the house 
 about eels and wild-ducks, pikes and herons, and such 
 like trivialities. But the usurping abbat from France 
 had already nearly doubled their rents and dues, and 
 for every fish or fowl that the Saxon purveyors had 
 claimed, the Norman purveyors laid their hands upon 
 a dozen. Ye may judge, therefore, whether the good 
 folk of Crowland town did not abhor the Norman 
 monks and wish them gone. 
 
 In turning away the good Lord Abbat and all his 
 obedientiarii or officials, and all his superior monks, 
 the intruders had left in the house a few inferior 
 monks, and about half a score of servientes and lay- 
 brothers to hew their wood and draw their water. 
 And they had so overwrought these Saxon laics, and 
 had so taunted and vilipended them, that the poor 
 hinds, one and all, wished them in the bottomless 
 pit. 
 
 On the night after Lord Hereward's feast at Brunn 
 and the fifth night from the festival of the Nativity, 
 Alain of Beauvais, the intrusive abbat, was feasting 
 in the hall with his Norman friars, who had never 
 passed through a noviciate, and with his Norman 
 men-at-arms, who were neither more nor less godly 
 than his monks. One or two of the English laics 
 were waiting upon these their lords and masters ; the 
 other lay-brothers were supposed to be gone to their 
 
136 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 straw beds. Alain the pseudo-abbat, being warm 
 with wine, was talking in the manner of all French- 
 men about dames and demoiselles, and was telling 
 his company what a sweet lady it was that broke her 
 heart when he first left Beauvais to seek his fortune 
 Avith Duke William. Just at this juncture of time 
 there came into the hall an invisible devil in the 
 essence of a stink. It was such a stench as mortal 
 nose had never smelt before — it was so intense, so 
 foul and diabolical, that no mortal man could bear 
 it long ! Alain the pseudo-abbat, putting both his 
 hands to his nose, said, ' Notre Dame de la miseri- 
 corde ! what smell is this ? ' They all put their 
 hands to their nostrils, and roared ' What stink is 
 this } ' 
 
 Before the English lay-brothers could make any 
 answer, the foul smell, which kept growing stronger, 
 was accompanied by a terrible rumbling noise : — and 
 then there came most violent gusts of wind, which 
 extinguished all the lamps, cressets, torches, and 
 candles ; and then, upon the darkness of the hall, 
 there burst a livid, ghastly, blue light, and above and 
 below, from side to side, the hall seemed filled with 
 streaming blue flames, and still that atrocious stench 
 grew stronger and stronger ! Abbat, monks, men-at- 
 arms, and all, rushed out of the hall, some crying 
 that it was the eve of the day of judgment, and some 
 roaring that it must be the devils of Crowland come 
 back again. Outside the hall, in the darkened corri- 
 dor (and by this time there was not a single lamp 
 left burning in any part of the house, but only the 
 altar-lights in the church) they ran against and 
 stumbled over other Frenchmen who were running 
 up from the inferior offices and from the stables, for 
 they had all and several been driven away by blue 
 
THE HOUSE AT CROW LAND 137 
 
 lights and foul smells ; and every mother's son of 
 them believed that the Ci'owland devils had been sent 
 to dispossess them and drive them back to Normandie. 
 The corridor was long and straight, but as dark as 
 pitch ; some fell in their flight and rolled the one 
 over the other, and some stood stock still and silent 
 as stocks, save that their knees knocked together and 
 their teeth chattered ; and some ran forward howling 
 for mercy, and confessing their sins to that hell- 
 darkness. But, when near the end of the long dark 
 passage, a French monk and a man-at-arms that ran 
 the foremost of them all fell through the flooring 
 with a hideous crash, and were heard shrieking, from 
 some unexplored regions below, that the fiends had 
 gotten them — that the devils of Crowland were whirl- 
 ing them off to the bottomless pit ! The pit or fetid 
 pool into which these two evil-doers were thrown was 
 not bottomless, though deep ; yet I wist nothing was 
 ever more seen either of that monk or of that man- 
 at-arms. As these piercing shrieks were heard from 
 below, the Normans roared in the corridor — some 
 blaspheming and cursing the day and hour that they 
 came to England, others praying to be forgiven, with 
 many a Libera nos ! and Salve ! and others gnashing 
 their teeth and yelling like maniacs. But some there 
 were that made no noise at all, for they had swooned 
 through excess of fear. 
 
 And now there came an exceeding bright light from 
 the chasm in the floor through which the monk and 
 the man-at-arms had fallen ; but the light, though 
 bright, was still of a ghastly blue tinge ; and by 
 that light full twenty devils, or it might be more, 
 were seen ascending and descending to and from 
 the flaming pit, or chasm in the floor. Some of 
 these fiends had blubber-lips, beetle heads, humped 
 
138 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 shoulders, and bandy legs, and were hirsute and 
 black as soot ; others of them were red and altogether 
 shapeless ; others were round and yellow ; but all 
 their visages were most irregular and frightful, and 
 they had all long tails tipped with fire, and flashes of 
 red, green, and yellow flames came out of the mouths 
 of every one of them. As for hoarse throats, no 
 voices could be hoarser and more dreadful than the 
 voices of these blubber-fiends as they went up and 
 down the pit, like buckets in a well, or as they roared 
 in the dark cavities under the passage, and beneath 
 the very place where the Normans lay huddled. The 
 intrusive abbat tried to say a De profimdis, but the 
 words stuck in his throat, not being very familiar 
 with that passage. 
 
 By degrees that exceeding bright light from the 
 chasm in the floor died away, leaving the corridor as 
 black as Erebus. ' An we could but get to the church 
 door,' said one of the false monks, 'we might be 
 safe! Will no man try? — Is there no brave man-at- 
 arms that will adventure along this passage and see 
 whether we can cross that chasm and get out of it ? ' 
 
 The men-at-arms thought that this was a reconnais- 
 sance to be more properly made by monks, who were 
 supposed to know more about the devil and his ways 
 than did plain soldiers ; nevertheless several of them 
 said they would adventure, if they had but their 
 swords or their pikes with them. But they had all 
 left their weapons in their several lodgings ; and so, 
 not one of them would budge. The darkness con- 
 tinued, but the voices which had been roaring below 
 ground ceased. At last Alain of Beauvais, fortifying 
 himself with such short prayers and Latin interjections 
 as he could recollect, and crossing himself many score 
 times, resolved to go along the dark passage and try 
 
THE HOUSE AT C ROWLAND ISp 
 
 whether there could be an exit from it. Slowly he 
 went upon his hands and knees, groping and feeling 
 the floor with his hands, and now and then rapping on 
 the floor with his fist to essay whether it was sound. 
 Thus this unrighteous intruder went on groping and 
 rapping in the dark until he came close to the edge of 
 the chasm. Then a quivering blue light shot out of 
 the pit, and then — monstrum horrendum ! a head, 
 bigger than the heads of ten mortal men, and that 
 seemed all fire and flame within, rose up close to the 
 intrusive abbat's nose, and a sharp shrill voice was 
 heard to say in good Norman French, ' Come up, my 
 fiends, from your sombre abodes ! Come up and clutch 
 me my long while servant and slave Alain of Beauvais ! ' 
 
 The intrusive abbat rushed back screaming, and fell 
 swooning among the swooned. Again the long corri- 
 dor was filled with that intense and intolerable blue 
 light, and again the blubber-fiends ascended and de- 
 scended like buckets in a well, and again the horrible 
 noise was heard below, and the devil that spoke the 
 good Norman French was heard shouting, ' Devil 
 Astaroth, art thou ready ? Devil Balberith, hast thou 
 lit thy fires on the top of the waters ? Devil Alocco, 
 are thy pools all ready to receive these Norman 
 sinners ? Fiends of the fen, are your torclies all pre- 
 pared ? Fire fiends, are ye ready with your unquench- 
 able fires ? Incubuses and succubuses, demons, devils, 
 and develings all, are ye ready ? ' And the hoarse 
 voices, sounding as if they came from the bowels of 
 the earth, roared more fearfully than before ; and one 
 loud shrill voice, that sounded as if close to the mouth 
 of the pit, said in good Norman French, ' Yea, great 
 devil of Crowland, we be all ready ! ' 
 
 ''Tis well,' said the other voice, 'then set fire to 
 eveiy part of this once holy building, over which the 
 
140 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 sins of these Norman intruders have given us power ! 
 Fire it from porch to roof-tree, and if they will seek 
 to abide here, let them perish in the flames, and be 
 buried under the cinders and ashes.' 
 
 ' If the devil had spoken Saxon,' said one of the 
 monks, ' I should have known nought of his meaning, 
 but since he parleys in Norman, it is not I that will 
 neglect his warning ! ' 
 
 And rushing back into the hall where they had 
 so lately been feasting, and bursting open one of 
 the windows, this well-advised intruder leaped from 
 the window into the stinking moat. As Avhen a 
 frighted ram is seized by the horns and dragged by 
 the shepherd hind through the brake, all the silly 
 flock, that could not move before, follow him one 
 by one, even so did our Norman monks and men-at- 
 arms follow the first monk through the window 
 and into the foul moat ! Such as had swooned were 
 brought, if not to their senses, to the use of their legs 
 and arms, by the renewal of that exceeding bright 
 light, or by the pinches and twitches of their com- 
 rades, which they took for pinchings of the devil — 
 roaring accordingly. But in a wondrously short space 
 of time every one of the intruders was outside of the 
 house, and was either sprawling in the foul moat, or 
 wading through muck and mud towards the firm, dry 
 causeway. There was great peril of drowning or of 
 being suffocated in the bogs ; nor were they yet free 
 from the supernatural terrors, for ghastly blue fires 
 were burning on the surface of sundry of the deeper 
 pools, and there was an overpowering stench of sul- 
 phur. Not one of them doubted but that the lights 
 were from hell ; yet, truth to say, those blue flames 
 showed them how to avoid the deep pools in which 
 they might have been drowned, and how to find their 
 
THE HOUSE AT CROW LAND 141 
 
 way to the causeway ; for the moon had not yet risen, 
 and except when ilkmimated by these unearthly lights 
 the fens were as dark as chaos. When they had 
 floundered a long while in the mud and fen-bogs, 
 they got to the firm and dry causeway which the holy 
 Guthlacus had made for the use of better men. They 
 were so exhausted by the fatigue, fright, and agony of 
 mind they had undergone, that they all threw them- 
 selves flat upon the narrow road, and there lay in 
 their soaked clothes, and shivering in the cold winds 
 of night. They were still so near to Crowland that 
 they could see bright lights, with nothing blue or 
 unearthly about them, streaming from the windows 
 of the abbey and from almost every house in the 
 township, and could very distinctly hear the ringing 
 of the church bells and the shouting of triumphant 
 voices. 
 
 ' The like of this hath not been seen or heard,' said 
 Alain of Beauvais ; ' the serfs of Crowland are in 
 league with the devils of Crowland ! The Saxon 
 rebels to King W^illiam have called the demons to 
 their assistance ! ' 
 
 ' Nothing so clear,' said one of the men-at-arms, 
 ' but let my advice be taken. The moon is rising 
 now, therefore let us rise and follow the road that lies 
 before us, and endeavour to get out of these infernal 
 fens to the town of Huntingdon or to the castle at 
 Cam-Bridge, or to some other place where there be 
 Normans and Christians. If the men of Ci'owland 
 should come after us, Saxons and slaves as they are, 
 they may drive us from this causeway to perish in the 
 bogs, or cut us to pieces upon the narrow road, for we 
 have not so much as a single sword among us all ! ' 
 
 ' We have nothing/ groaned Alain of Beauvais. 
 
 ' Ay,' grunted one of his friars, ' we brought little 
 
142 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 with us and assuredly we take less away with us ! 
 VVe be poorer than when we came and drove the 
 English abbat out of his house with nought but his 
 missal and breviary.' 
 
 ' But we men-of-war depart much poorer than we 
 came,' said one of the soldiers ; ' for each of us brought 
 a good stout English horse with him, and arms and 
 armour — and all these are left to the devils of Crow- 
 land ; and we shall all be laughed at for being 
 devil-beaten, though how men-at-arms can contend 
 with demons I cannot discover. But hark ! what new 
 din is that .'' ' 
 
 The din was a roar of voices proceeding from Crow- 
 land town. It soon came nearer, and still nearer ; 
 and then the hurried trampling of many feet, and the 
 tramp of horses as well as of men, were heard along 
 the causeway ; and, as tlie moon shone out, the head 
 of a dense moving column was seen on the narrow 
 road, and sundry skerries or light skiffs were seen 
 gliding along the canals or broad ditches which ran 
 on either side the causeway ; and shouts were heard 
 of ' Hereward for England ! Hereward for England ! ' 
 
 Hereupon the Normans all rose from the cold 
 ground, and began to run with all the speed and 
 strength that was left in them along the narrow road, 
 the hindmost hardly ever ceasing to cry ' Misericordia/ 
 or 'Have pity upon us, gentle Saxons!' But run 
 as they would, the cry of ' Hereward for England ' 
 was close behind them ; and the horses, being put 
 into a trot, broke in among them. More than one 
 of the men-at-arms had the mortification of being 
 knocked down and ridden over by a Crowland man 
 mounted on his own war-horse ; several of the monks 
 ffot fresh immersions in the canals. Had the Saxons 
 so disposed, not a Norman of all that company would 
 
THE HOUSE AT C ROWLAND 143 
 
 have escaped with his life, for they were all as helpless 
 as babes in their swaddling-clothes. But Hereward 
 of the true English heart had conjured Elfric and 
 the Salernitan to shed as little blood and destroy 
 as few lives as possible ; and Girolamo well knew 
 that the terror and panic these fugitives would carry 
 into whatsoever Norman camp or station they went 
 would do far more good to the good cause than was to 
 be done by despatching or by making prisoners of 
 this score or two of obscure rogues. 
 
 Thus Elfric, who led the van on a stately horse, 
 called a halt when he had carried his pursuit to some 
 three miles from Crowland abbey. 
 
 ' And now,' said he, ' with the permission of good 
 Guthlacus, we will cut such a trench as shall prevent 
 these robbers from returning to Crowland. So dig 
 and pull away, ye lusty fenners and nimble boys of 
 Crowland that lately made such good sham devils ! 
 Dig away for one good hour by this bright moonlight, 
 and to-morrow ye may make the trench broader and 
 deeper by daylight ! Oh, Guthlacus, we will repair 
 thy good work when the good times come back again, 
 and when honest men may walk along the road in 
 peace, without any fear of Norman cut-throats ! ' 
 
 Two score and more lusty hinds came forward with 
 axes and spades and mattocks ; and within the hour 
 a trench was dug quite broad and deep enough to 
 stop the march of any heavily armed man or war- 
 horse. The Saxons then returned to Crowland, and 
 as they went they sang in chorus a joyous war-song, 
 and shouted ' Hereward for England ! ' 
 
 Girolamo the Salernitan, who had remained in the 
 abbey with the Saxon lay-brothers, had put the house 
 so completely in order and had so cleansed it of the 
 foul odours he had made by his art, and had so 
 
144 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 sweetened it with frankincense brought from the 
 church, and with barks and fragrant spirits taken 
 from his own packets, that no man could have con- 
 ceived that anything extraordinary had taken place. 
 Save that the good Lord Abbat and his cloister 
 monks were missing, the whole house looked just as 
 it did before the Normans broke in upon it and drove 
 away the Lord Abbat and his brethren. Honest and 
 merry English voices rang again through hall, corridor, 
 and cloister, instead of Norman speech that whistles 
 in the nose ; and Saxon saints were once more in- 
 voked instead of the unknown saints of France. 
 
 Other men had been busy in the house besides the 
 Salernitan and his assistants. No joyful occurrence 
 ever took place among the Saxons without its being 
 noted by a feast— provided only that such good 
 Saxons had wherewith to feast upon. The Normans 
 had gone off in much too great a hurry to think of 
 taking anything with them. In the buttery remained, 
 among other rich drinking-horns, all carved and 
 ornamented with silver, that femed horn which Witlaf, 
 king of Mercia, had given from his own table to 
 Crowland monastery, in order that the elder monks 
 mifht drink thereout on festivals, and in their bene- 
 dictions remember sometimes the soul of the donor. 
 It was a mighty large horn, such as became a great 
 king: and it was an ancient custom of the house 
 that when any new Lord Abbat came, they filled the 
 horn with strong wine, and offered to him to drink, 
 and if he happened to drink it all off cheerfully, 
 they promised to themselves a noble Lord Abbat and 
 many good years in his time. Now for this high 
 festival the subcellarer brought forth this ancient 
 and royal drinking-horn, which held twice the quan- 
 tity of our modern horns ; and in order that there 
 
THE HOUSE AT CROW LAND 145 
 
 might be no delay in filling it, the good subcellarer 
 caused to be brought up from below an entire cask of 
 wine, and as soon as the cask was in the refectory 
 the head of it was stove in. Old Robin the cook, 
 who had been pastor and master in the art culinary 
 to that good cook of Spalding, had so bestirred him- 
 self, and had put so many other hands and feet in 
 motion, that there was a good supper ready for all of 
 the house, and all of the town, and all of the vicinage 
 of Crowland who had been aiding in the good work 
 of disseising, now so happily accomplished ; and by 
 the time Elfric and his friends got back to the 
 monastery, the feast was ready. The thin and dark 
 Salernitan, being but a puny eater and no di'in^er, 
 and not fully versed in our vernacular, partook only 
 of three or four dishes and of one cup of wine ; and 
 then went straight to the bed which had been pre- 
 pared for him. The homely Saxons felt a relief when 
 he was gone. They sent the wine round faster, and 
 began to discourse of the wonders they had done and 
 seen. Elfric gave thanks to the lay-brothers of the 
 house without whose aid the sham devils of Crowland 
 could never have gotten within the house. 
 
 ' And how suitably attired ! ' said Roger the tailor. 
 
 ' Yet what nimble devils we were ! ' said Orson the 
 smith. 
 
 ' What vizards ! what tails ! That thin dark 
 stranger made the vizards ; but it was I that made 
 the tails, and proud am I of the work ! How they 
 twisted ! How lism they were ! How I switched 
 mine about by pulling the strings under my jerkin ! ' 
 
 ' I wish,' said Hob the carpenter, ' that thou hadst 
 not switched thy devil's tail into mine eye as I was 
 coming up after thee through tlie trap-door. That 
 trap-door was a good device, and it was all mine own ; 
 
146 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 for who went and cut away the beams just at the 
 right time but Hob ? ' 
 
 ' All did well,' said Elfric, ' but there were some 
 that did wondrously. Colin Rush, thou madest a 
 very pretty nimble devil ! Hugh, thy roar was per- 
 fection ! Joseph the novice, thou wast so terrible a 
 devil to look upon, that although I dressed thee 
 myself, I was moi'e than half afraid of thee ! ' 
 
 'And I,' responded Joseph, 'was wholly terrified 
 at thee, master Elfric ! nor can I yet make out how 
 thou didst contrive to throw about all that fire and 
 flame, through eyes, mouth, and nostrils, without 
 burning thy big vizard. Hodge the miller set fire to 
 his big head and burned it to pieces, and so could do 
 nothing but stay below in the cellar and help in the 
 roaring.' 
 
 ' And not much did I like that dark underground 
 place,' quoth Hodge : ' and when the lights were all 
 out, and goodman Hugh, groping his way in the 
 dark, caught my tail in his hand and pulled it till it 
 nearly came away from my breech, I 'gan fancy that 
 the Crowland devils were angered, and that some 
 real devil was going to haul me off! I wot that the 
 roar I then gave was quite in earnest ! My flesh 
 still quivers, and ice comes over my heart as I think 
 of it ! ' 
 
 ' Then melt thine ice with good warm wine,' said 
 Elfric, pushing him a cup : ' I thought thou hadst 
 known that all the Crowland devils had been laid for 
 aye by the good Guthlacus, and that thou hadst had 
 nothing to fear whilst engaged in so good a work and 
 all for the service of thy liege lord the abbat, and for 
 the honour and service of the church and the liberties 
 of England. Did I not besprinkle thee with holy 
 water before thou didst don thy devil-skin .'' ' 
 
THE HOUSE AT CROW LAND 147 
 
 ' For my part/ said another, ' what most feared 
 me was that awful stench ! I was told, that as a 
 devil I must not cough, but help coughing I could 
 not as I stirred up the pan over the charcoal fire, 
 and kept throwing in the foul drugs the dark stranger 
 gave me to throw in. In sooth I neither frisked 
 about nor hauled myself up by the rope over the 
 trap-door ; nor did I howl, nor did I help to carry 
 the blue links and torches ; but the stinking part did 
 I all myself, and I think I may be proud of it ! Not 
 to defraud an honest man and good artisan of his 
 due, I may say it was Hob the carpenter that bored 
 the holes through the floor so that the incense might 
 rise right under our Norman abbat's nose ; but for 
 all the rest it was I that did it. That hell-broth still 
 stinks in the nose of my memory. Prithee, another 
 cup of wine, that I may forget it.' 
 
 ' Well,' said old Gaffer the tithing-man of Crowland, 
 ' we have done the thing, and I hope it hath been 
 honestly done ; and without offence to the saints or to 
 the beatified Guthlacus.' 
 
 ' Never doubt it/ quoth Elfric : ' the Norman spoilers 
 and oppressors are gone to a man, and as naked as 
 they came. I, the humble friend and follower of my 
 Lord Hereward the liberator, am here to dispense 
 hospitality to-night ; your own Lord Abbat will be 
 here in a few days ; and the dread of our demons of 
 the fens and Crowland devils will make the invaders 
 run from all the fen country. So much good could 
 not have come out of evil ; if the means employed had 
 been unlawful or in any way sinful, we should have 
 failed, and never have met with such easy and com- 
 plete success.' 
 
 ' Nevertheless,' continued Gaffer, ' the things which 
 I have seen fill me with doubt and amaze. Who ever 
 
148 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 saw the like before ? Fire burning upon the top of 
 water, flames not to be quenched by water from below 
 nor by water from above ! Smoke and flames not of 
 their natural colours, but blue, and green, and scarlet, 
 and bright yellow ! and the light from these flames so 
 dazzling and so ghastly ! In truth I wot not how this 
 can be done by mortal man ! ' 
 
 ' Nor wot I,' said Elfric, ' but this I know full well, 
 that there was no magic or sortilege in the prepara- 
 tion, and that the stranger is as good and devout a 
 Christian as any that dwells in the land. Many are 
 the things which I have seen done by the hand of 
 man that I cannot understand ; but am I therefore to 
 think that the Evil One hath a finger in them ? I have 
 carried on my back, and have handled with mine own 
 hands, the liquids and the substances which have been 
 used, and yet have felt neither cramp nor any other 
 ache. And plain homely things those substances and 
 liquids do appear to be — the quietest and dullest trash 
 until mixed together and compounded. Girolamo, 
 who hath studied in the schools in foreign parts, even 
 as our young clerks studied at Cam-Bridge before 
 the detestable Normans came and built their donjon 
 there, calls this art of compounding by the name of 
 Chemeia, or Chimia, and he says that things much 
 more wondrous are to be done by it. Further, he 
 says, that his own proficiency has been acquired by 
 long fasting and diligent study, by prayers to heaven 
 and votive offerings to the saints. Methinks it were 
 better to give God credit for these inventions and 
 combinations, and for the wit and ingenuity of man, 
 than to be always atti'ibuting them to the devil, as 
 our uninformed clowns do.' But these last words the 
 ex-novice spoke under his breath. 'And this also do 
 I know — the stranger sprinkled his powders with holy 
 
THE HOUSE AT CROW LAND 149 
 
 water, and prayed the prayers of our church all the 
 while he was doing his preparations.' 
 
 ' But what makes him look so grim and black, and 
 so wild about the eyes/ said the old cook. 
 
 ' Nothing but sorrow and anxiety, sun and climate,' 
 replied Elfric. ' In the country of the south where 
 he was born there be no blue eyes or flaxen heads of 
 hair ; and the Normans drove him from his home and 
 seized his house and lands, even as they are now 
 doing with Englishmen ; and he hath known long 
 captivity and cruel torture, and hath wandered in 
 the far climates of the East where the hand of the 
 Arab is lifted against every man.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Hob the carpenter, ' two things are 
 clear — the Normans are gone from CroAvland, and we 
 have gotten their wine butts. And, therefore, I 
 submit to this good company that we should leave 
 off talking and be jolly. Goodman Hodge, pass me 
 down the cup.' 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE 
 
 The restored Lord of Brunn, having done so much in 
 a few days, made full report thereof unto the good 
 Lord Abbat and the great prelates and Saxon thanes 
 that had made the isle of Ely and the Camp of Refuge 
 their homes. Right joyous was the news ; and prudent 
 and unanimous were the counsels which followed it. 
 The Abbat of Crowland and the Prior of Spalding, 
 and such of their monks as had gone with them or 
 followed them to Ely to escape from the oppression of 
 Ivo Taille-Bois, now, without loss of time, returned to 
 the banks of the Welland. 
 
 The abbat and the prior were soon comfortably re- 
 established in their several houses ; the rest of the 
 expelled monks came flocking back to their cells, 
 and the good Saxon fen-men began to renew their 
 pilgrimages to the shrines. Many pilgrims too came 
 from the countries bordering on the fens ; and while 
 some of these men remained to fight under the Lord 
 of Brunn, others going back to their homes carried 
 with them the glad intelligence that the Camp of 
 Refuge was more unassailable than it had ever been, 
 and that a most powerful Saxon league was forming 
 for the total expulsion of the Normans from England. 
 
 Besides his own dependence and the chiefs of his 
 own kindred, many Saxon hinds, and not a few chiefs 
 
LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE 151 
 
 of name, began now to repair to Hereward's standard. 
 There came his old brother-in-arms Winter of Wisbech, 
 who had never touched the mailed hand of the con- 
 queror in sign of peace and submission ; there came 
 his distant relative Gherik, who bore on his brow the 
 broad scar of an almost deadly wound he had gotten 
 at Hastings ; there came Alfric and Rudgang, and 
 Sexwold and Siward Beorn, that true Saxon soldier 
 who had formerly been a companion to Edgar Etheling 
 in his flight, and who had come back from Scotland 
 because he could not bear to live in ease and plenty 
 while his country was oppressed. Not one of these 
 Saxon warriors but would stand against three Normans 
 on foot ! Here ward afterward gave proof, and more 
 times than once, that he could keep his ground 
 against seven ! As for the hungry outlandish men 
 the Conqueror was bringing from all the countries in 
 southern Europe, to help him to do that which he 
 boasted he had done in the one battle of Hastings, 
 they were not men to face any of our lusty Saxons of 
 the old race ; but they fell before them in battle like 
 reeds of the fen when trampled upon. But the skill 
 and craft of these alien men were great : many of 
 them were drawn from Italic, though not from the 
 same part of that country which gave birth to Girolamo; 
 and therefore were the services of the Salernitan the 
 more valuable ; and therefore was it that the young 
 Lord of Brunn had need of all his own strategy, and 
 of all the inborn and acquired qualities which made 
 him the foremost captain of that age. 
 
 Ivo Taille-Bois, whom some did call the devil of 
 the fens, was not in the manor-house of the Ladie 
 Lucia, near unto Spalding, when Hereward first came 
 to claim his own, and to turn out his false monks. 
 Being weary with living among bogs and marshes, 
 
152 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and having occasion to consult with the Norman 
 vicomte who held command at Stamford, Ivo had 
 gone to that town, some few days before the feast of 
 the Nativity, and had carried with him his Saxon wife 
 and her infant child, leaving none in the moated and 
 battlemented house save a few servants, and some ten 
 or twelve armed Normans. The house was strong and 
 difficult of access ; but if it had not been for the 
 respect due to the Ladie Lucia, the kinswoman of his 
 own Ladie Alftrude, Hereward, on his gaining possession 
 of Spalding, would have made a rough attempt upon 
 it ; and such was the temper of the Saxons within the 
 house, that doubtlessly they would have played into 
 his hands. For several days the Noi-mans remained 
 wholly ignorant of the great things which had been 
 done in the succursal cell, at Brunn and at Crowland, 
 for they could not venture outside the walls of the 
 manor-house, and even if there had been no danger in 
 their so doing, the inundated state of the country, 
 and the cold wintry weather, offered few temptations 
 to rambling. At length the passing of many skerries 
 across the fens, and the frequent passage of larger 
 boats, crowded with people, on the broad and not 
 distant Welland, and the triumphant shouts that were 
 occasionally heard from the banks of the river, caused 
 the men-at-arms to suspect that some insurrection was 
 a-foot. They thanked their stars that the moat was 
 so broad, the house so strong, and the store-house so 
 well stored, and they went on sleeping like dormice, 
 or like squirrels, in the topmost hollow of an oak, 
 whose root is deep under the wintry waters. They 
 could not trust any Saxon messenger to Stamford ; and 
 therefore it was not from his garrison in the manor- 
 house, but directly from Alain of Beauvais and others 
 of that unholy crew, that the fierce Ivo learned all 
 
LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE 153 
 
 that had happened upon or round about his wife's 
 domains. Some of the herd were seized with fever 
 and delirium — the effects of fear and fatigue and wet 
 clothes — and they did not recover their senses for 
 many a week ; but Alain and such of them as could 
 talk and reason related all the horrible circumstances 
 of their expulsion and flight, of the onset of the devils 
 of Crowland, and of the close and self-evident league 
 existing between Beelzebub and the Saxons. All this 
 was horrible to hear ; but Alain of Beauvais pro- 
 nounced a name which was more horrible or odious 
 to Ivo Taille-Bois than that of Lucifer himself: — this 
 was the name of Hereward the Saxon — of Hereward 
 the Lord of Brunn, which the men of Crowland town 
 had shouted in their ears as the Norman monks were 
 flying along the causeway. Partly through the tattle 
 of some serving-women, and more through the con- 
 fidence of his wife, who did not hate her Norman 
 lord quite so much as she ought to have done, Ivo 
 had learned something of the love passages between 
 Hereward and the Ladie Alftrude, and something also 
 of the high fame which Hereward had obtained as 
 a warrior : and he gnashed his teeth as he said to 
 himself in Stamford town : 
 
 ' If this foul game last, my brother may go back to 
 Normandie a beggar, and I may follow him as another 
 beggar, for this Saxon churl will carry off Lanfranc's 
 rich ward, and besiege and take my house by Spalding, 
 and the devil and the Saxon people being all with 
 him, he Avill disseise me of all my lands ! But I will 
 to the Vicomte of Stamford, and ask for fifty lances to 
 join to my own followers, and albeit I may not charge 
 home to Spalding, I can ride to Ey and carry off the 
 Saxon girl before this Hereward takes her. Great 
 Lanfranc must needs excuse the deed, for if I take her 
 
154 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 not, and give her to my brother, the Saxon rebel and 
 traitor will take her. I was a dolt and wife-governed 
 fool ever to have let her depart from mine house after 
 that christening feast. But haply now my brother is 
 here ! The instant we get her he shall wed her. We 
 will carry a ring with us to Ey for that purpose ! ' 
 
 While Ivo Taille-Bois was thus making up his wicked 
 mind in Stamford town, the good Lord Hereward was 
 advancing with one hundred brave Saxons from his 
 fair house at Brunn to the fairer and statelier house of 
 the Ladie Alftrude at Ey, having despatched Elfric 
 the ex-novice before him to make his way straight, 
 and to appoint a place of meeting with his lady-love, 
 and a place of meeting between his friends and 
 retainers, and her retainers and the friends of her 
 house. Now from Brunn to Ey is a much longer 
 distance than from Stamford to Ey ; but while the 
 Normans were obliged to keep to the roundabout 
 roads and to make many preparations beforehand (for 
 fear of the fenners), the Englishmen, aided by skerries, 
 and whatever the country people could lend them, 
 struck directly across the fens. And in this wise it 
 befel that Lord Hereward got a good footing within 
 the Ladie Alftrude's domain many hours before Ivo 
 Taille-Bois and his brother could get within sight of 
 the manor-house of Ey. On the bank of a river 
 which flowed towards the Welland, and which formed 
 the natural boundary of her far-extending lands, the 
 hundred chosen warriors of the Lord of Brunn were 
 met and welcomed by fifty armed men of the Ladie of 
 Ey, and by fifty or sixty more brave men from the 
 neighbouring fens, furnished with long fen-poles, 
 bill-hooks, and bows. While these united warriors 
 marched together towards the manor-house in goodly 
 array, and shouting ' Hereward for England ! ' the 
 
LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE 155 
 
 young Lord of Brunn^ attended by none but Elfric, 
 who had met him by the river, quitted the array and 
 strode across some fields towards the little church of 
 the township which stood on a bright green hillock, 
 with a linden grove close behind it. It was within 
 that ivied church that the heir of Brunn and the 
 heiress of Ey had first met as children ; and it was 
 in that linden-grove that the bold young man Here- 
 ward had first told Alftrude how much he loved her. 
 And was it not within that grove, then all gay and 
 leafy, and now leafless and bai'e, that Hereward had 
 taken his farewell when going to follow King Harold 
 to the wars, and that the Ladie Alftrude had recon- 
 firmed to him her troth-plight .'' And was it not for 
 these good reasons that the Saxon maiden, who loved 
 not public greetings in the hall, amidst shouts and 
 acclamations, had appointed the linden-grove, behind 
 the old church, to be the place where she should wel- 
 come back Hereward to his home and country ? The 
 church and the linden-grove were scarce an arrow- 
 flight from the manor-house. The noble maiden was 
 attended by none but her handmaiden Mildred. When 
 the young Lord of Brunn came up and took the Ladie 
 Alftrude by the hand, that noble pair walked into the 
 grove by a path which led towards the little church. 
 For some time their hearts were too full to allow of 
 speech : and when they could speak no ear could hear 
 them, and no mortal eye see them. With Elfric and 
 the maid Mildred it was not so. They stopped at the 
 edge of the grove, and both talked and laughed enow 
 — though they too were silent for a short space, and 
 stood gazing at each other. It is said that it was the 
 maiden who spoke first, and that she marvelled much 
 at Elfric's changed attire. 
 
 ' Master novice,' she said, ' where are thy gown and 
 
156 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 thy cowl ? When last I saw thee thou wast habited 
 as a wandering glee-man ; and now I see thee armed 
 and attired even like a man-at-arms. What meaneth 
 this ? Is thy war-dress to serve only for an occasion, 
 like thy menestrel cloak ? Tell me, art thou monk, 
 menestrel, or soldier ? I thought thy noviciate was all 
 but out, and that thou wast about to take thy vows.' 
 
 'No vows for me,' said Elfric, 'but vows to serve 
 my country, and vows to love thee, oh Mildred ! 1 
 was not meant to be a cloister-monk — albeit, if the 
 Normans had not come into the fen country, and I had 
 never been sent on the business of the Spalding cell 
 to the house of thy mistress, and had never seen thee, 
 fair Mildred, I might in all possibility have submitted 
 quietly to the manner of life which had been chosen 
 for me. But these accidents which have happened 
 have made me feel that I love fighting better than 
 praying, and loving much better than fasting. My 
 superiors have all come to the same conclusion, and 
 have liberated me, and have given me to the brave 
 and bountiful Lord Hereward to be his page and sword- 
 bearer, and whatsoever he may please to make me.' 
 
 Maid Mildred tried to check her tongue, and to look 
 composed or indifferent ; but not being Avell practised 
 in the art of concealing her feelings, she set up a cry 
 of joy, and then falling on her knees she inwardly 
 and silently thanked heaven that Elfric was not to be 
 a monk, or one that could not be loved by her with- 
 out sin. Perhaps the ex-novice understood what was 
 passing in her mind ; and perhaps he did not : for 
 when he raised her up by her hand, and kept her 
 hand closed within his own, and looked in her bright 
 blue eyes, he said : 
 
 ' Mildred, art thou glad, indeed, at this my change of 
 •condition .'' Art thou indeed happy that I should be a 
 
LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE 157 
 
 soldier, fighting for the good EngHsh cause, and a sword- 
 bearer constantly in attendance on the brave and 
 bountiful Lord of Brunn, to go wherever he goeth, 
 and to dwell with him in mansion and hall, when the 
 battle is over and the camp struck ; or wouldst thou 
 have me back in the house at Spalding, and a monk 
 for all my days ? ' 
 
 'It seemeth to me that when devout and learned 
 men have opined that thou art fitter for a soldier than 
 for a monk, it is not for a weak unlettered maid like 
 me to gainsay it. In sooth thou lookest marvellously 
 well in that soldier jerkin and baldric; and that 
 plumed cap becomes thy merry face better than the 
 hood. Thou carriest that sword too by thy side with 
 a better grace than ever thou didst carry missal or 
 breviary. But — but — alack and woe the while ! — 
 soldiers get killed and monks do not ! Elfric, thou 
 wert safer in thy cell.' 
 
 ' No, Mildred, these are times when war rages in 
 the convent as in the tented field. No house is safe 
 from intrusion ; and where I was, Norman should 
 never intrude without finding at the least one bold 
 heart to defy him and oppose him. A young man of 
 my temper would encounter more danger in the clois- 
 ters than on the field of battle, and would perish 
 unnoticed by the world, and without any service to 
 his country. But as a soldier and follower of Here- 
 ward our great captain, I may aid the liberties of the 
 Saxon people, and if I fall I shall fall, the sword in 
 my hand, fighting like a man, with the broad green 
 earth under me, and the open blue sky above me ! I 
 sliall not die pent in cloister like a rat in his hole ! 
 and men will remember me when I am gone as the 
 slayer of many Noi*mans. . . . But turn not so 
 {)ale, be not discomfited, my merry Mildred, at this 
 
158 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 thought of death ! Of the thousands that go forth 
 into battle the greater part always return^ and return 
 unscathed, whether they have been victorious or van- 
 quished ; but if victorious, the less is their loss. Death 
 turns aside from those who fear him not, or are too 
 busy and too earnest in a just cause to think about 
 him. The brave live when the cowards pei'ish : the 
 dread cai-nage falls upon those who run away, or who 
 are deaf to the voice of their leader. Our cause is 
 just, and will be protected and blessed by heaven. We 
 fight only for our own — for our own country, our own 
 king, our own ancient laws and usages, our own church. 
 The Lord Hereward is as politic as he is brave ; he is 
 famed even beyond seas as one of the greatest of com- 
 manders ; and with such a cause and such a leader, 
 upheld and followed as they must be by all honest 
 and stout-hearted Englishmen, we cannot fail of 
 victory. And when these Norman robbers shall be 
 driven forth of the land, and good King Harold 
 restored, there will be no more war, and no more 
 danger.' 
 
 Mildred felt comforted, and they spoke no more of 
 war. Elfric related all his wondrous adventures, and 
 described all that he had seen in foreign lands when 
 he was in quest of the Lord of Brunn, the maiden 
 listening to him with wide-open, wondering eyes. 
 Next he told her how ingeniously he had played the 
 devil at Crowland, and driven away the Norman 
 shavelings ; and at this Mildred laughed out right 
 merrily, saying that she would like to have seen it, 
 and yet would not like to have seen it, and asking 
 him what sort of vizard he had worn, and what had 
 been his complexion as a devil. Elfric told her that 
 he would appear to her, and frighten her as a devil 
 some night soon, if she did not give him one kiss 
 
LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE 159 
 
 now ; and so Mildred laughed a little, and blushed a 
 little, and said nay a little, and then let the bold 
 youth take what he asked for. It is weened and 
 wotted by some that there had been kisses under the 
 hood before now ; but now the cucullus had given 
 way to the cap, and there was no harm in it. All 
 this talk and dalliance by the edge of the linden- 
 grove occupied much time, yet the Ladie Alftrude 
 and the Lord Hereward did not appear ; and much 
 as Elfric loved his master, and Mildred her mistress, 
 they did not think the time long, nor wish for their 
 reappearing. Both, however, spoke much of the bold 
 lord and the fair ladie, and in settling their matters 
 for them (as handmaidens and pages will aye be 
 settling the loves and marriages of their masters and 
 mistresses), they in a manner settled their own lots. 
 The Lord of Brunn and the Ladie Alftrude, so long 
 torn asunder, must soon be united for ever by holy 
 church — that was quite certain ; Elfric would never 
 quit his lord — that was quite certain ; Mildred could 
 never leave her lady — that was equally certain ; and 
 from this they derived the consequent certainty that 
 he, Elfric, and she, Mildred, must henceforward have 
 a great deal of each other's company. Further than 
 this they did not go ; for just as Elfric was about to 
 propound another proposition, Lord Hereward and 
 the Ladie Alftrude came forth from the grove, and 
 took the direct path towards the manor-house, smiling 
 each upon the youth and upon the maiden as they 
 passed them. The ladle's countenance was happy 
 and serene, although her eyes showed that she had 
 been weeping ; the Lord Hereward had a clear, open, 
 joyous face at all seasons, but now he seemed radiant 
 with joy all over him : and as thus they went their 
 way to the near house, followed by the young soldier 
 
160 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and the young handmaiden, there were four of the 
 happiest faces that ever the sun shone upon. 
 
 When they came to the good old Saxon house, 
 where lowered drawbridge and open gate betokened 
 the Saxon hospitality and the absence of all fear about 
 Norman intruders, there was a universal throwing of 
 caps into the air, with another loud and universal 
 shouting of welcome to the Lord of Brunn ; and every 
 man, woman, and child there, whether a relative or 
 retainer of the one house or of the other, whether a 
 vassal to the young lord or to the young lady, coupled 
 the names of the twain as if they were to be indis- 
 solubly joined, and still cried, 'Long life to Lord 
 Hereward and the Ladie Alftrude ! Long life to the 
 Ladie Alftrude and to Lord Hereward ! God bless the 
 bravest and fairest of the Saxons ! ' The impatience 
 of these good people had been great, for great was 
 their curiosity and great their appetite : they had all 
 been longing to see, side by side, the long-separated 
 and re-united pair, and the feast had been ready in 
 the hall for the space of one hour or more. 
 
 It proved a much merrier feast than that given by 
 Ivo Taille-Bois at the christening of his son; and if 
 Elfric had sung well there, he sang much better here. 
 Sundry kinsmen and kinswomen of the Ladie Alftrude, 
 who had long journeys to make, and who had not been 
 able to arrive before, arrived during the festivity; and, 
 during the same season of joy, sundry scouts and 
 messengers came in, and spoke either with the Lord 
 of Brunn or with his sword-bearer ; for Hereward in 
 the act of being very merry could be very wise, and he 
 could think of fighting at the same time that he was 
 thinking of love : he had sent scouts into many parts, 
 and other good Saxons that were living near Cam- 
 bridge, or Huntingdon, or Stamford, or other Norman 
 
LINDEN-GROVE AND LADIE ALFTRUDE l6l 
 
 stations, were now beginning to send messengers to 
 him with all the information that could be pi'ocured, 
 and with all the good suggestions they had skill to 
 offer, for all good men fixed their hopes upon him. 
 After communing for a short time with one of these 
 trustworthy messengers, Hereward gave a merry peal 
 of laughter, and said aloud, ' So this Ivo Taille-Bois is 
 coming hither to seek my bride ! He shall be wel- 
 come ! Let him come.' 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE 
 
 It was agreed on all sides that too much happiness 
 had been lost already in their long separation, and that 
 Alftrude and Hereward ought now to be married as 
 quickly as possible ; the great heiress whose lands were 
 so coveted could be safe only under the protection of 
 a warlike lord and devoted husband ; and who was 
 there in the land so brave and likely to be so devoted 
 as the Lord of Brunn, who had known and loved her 
 from his youth, and who had gotten her troth-plight ? 
 If the ladie remained single, and the fortune of war 
 should prove for a season unfavourable, the Normans, 
 by mixing fraud with force, might carry her off, as they 
 carried off and forcibly wedded other English heiresses; 
 but if she were once united to Hereward, even the 
 Normans might hesitate ere they broke the sacred tie 
 of the Church. Time was not needed for wooing, for 
 there had been good and long wooing long ago ; and 
 but for the Normans would not Hereward and Alftrude 
 long since have been husband and wife? Thus reasoned 
 all the kinsmen and kinswomen of the Ladie Alftrude ; 
 and yielding to their good advice, the Saxon heiress con- 
 sented that her good old household priest should pre- 
 pare the little church on the hill by the linden-grove, 
 and that the wedding should take place on the morrow. 
 Hereward was urged by a pleasant spirit of revenge 
 
 162 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE l63 
 
 to be thus urgent ; for Ivo Taille-Bois was coming on 
 the morrow with his men-at-arms and with his brother 
 Geoffroy, that unmannerly and unlucky wooer ; and so 
 the Lord of Brunn would fain bid them to his marriage 
 feast, if so it might be. But Hereward kept this plea- 
 sant thought to himself, or explained it to none but 
 Elfric and Girolamo of Salerno. The morning after 
 that happy meeting in the linden-grove was a bright 
 winter's morning. The sun rarely shines so bright in 
 the summer time as in the fen country. The little 
 church was ready, the good old English priest was robed 
 and at the altar; the path leading from the manor-house 
 to the church, in lack of flowers, was strewed with 
 rushes, and the serfs of the Ladie Alftrude were ranged 
 on either side of the path; the ladie herself was attii-ed 
 as became a bride (a Saxon bi-ide in the good old time 
 before our fashions were corrupted) ; her fair young 
 kinswomen, who were to stand by her side at the altar, 
 were dressed and ready, and all other persons and 
 things were ready about two hours before noon. There 
 was music and there were fresh shouts of joy in the 
 hall and outside of the manor-house when Lord Here- 
 ward stepped forth with his blushing bride on his arm 
 and headed the gay procession. But though gay, the 
 attendance was not so great as it might have been, for 
 a great many of the armed men were not there, and 
 even the sword-bearer and the Salernitan were both 
 absent. Maid Mildred thouglit it very strange and 
 very wrong that Elfric should be away at such a happy 
 juncture; but the truth is that Elfric and Girolamo, 
 and many of the fighting men, had something else to 
 do. The goodly procession soon reached the church 
 porch, and then all entered that could find room with- 
 out overcrowding their betters. But most of the 
 armed men who had followed the procession either 
 
164 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 remained in the porch or stationed themselves on the 
 hillside outside the church. It was noticed afterwards 
 that these bold men often looked to their weapons, and 
 that all the hinds and serfs that had been standing by 
 the pathway had bills and bows, or long fen-poles 
 loaded and spiked with iron. The household priest 
 had scarcely said the Benedicite ere the alert Elfric 
 came running up the hill and through the linden-grove 
 and into the porch, and up to his lord's side in the 
 body of the church ; and when Elfric had whispered a 
 few words Herewai-d said : 
 
 'Alftrude, let thy heart rejoice! I have caught as 
 in a trap the villains that would have wronged thee ! 
 Saxons, all rejoice, and remain here, and move not 
 until I return ! ' 
 
 And so, bowing to the priest, and praying his 
 patience, the Lord of Brunn strode out of the church, 
 leaving the fair ladie of Ey looking all astonishment 
 and somewhat pale. Behind the church Elfric helped 
 the lord to his armour and arms. 
 
 While putting on his mail, Hereward said, 'Are they 
 well in ? Art thou sure that thou hast caught this Ivo 
 and his brother ? ' 
 
 ' Well in ! ' said Elfric ; ' as many as we let come 
 over the bridge are in up to their chins, and Ivo and 
 his brother came on first ! ' 
 
 'It pleaseth me well,' quoth Hereward, as he ran 
 down the hill followed by his sword-bearer ; ' it pleaseth 
 me right well ! I did not expect the two caitiffs quite 
 so soon ; but since they are come, I vow by every saint 
 that ever spoke the Saxon tongue, that they shall be 
 witnesses to my marriage, and after they shall be 
 bidden to my wedding feast ! ' 
 
 ' I wish them a good appetite,' said Elfric. 
 
 A scant mile beyond the church hill and the linden- 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE l65 
 
 grove there ran a narrow but very deep stream, which 
 was crossed by an old wooden bridge. All persons 
 coming from Stamford must pass this river ; and Here- 
 ward had been properly advised of all Ivo's intentions 
 and of all his movements. Girolamo had been hard at 
 work over-night upon the bridge, and by his good 
 science the timbers of the bridge were so cut into 
 pieces and put together again^ that he could allow any 
 given number of persons to cross, and then by a simple 
 operation disjoint the bridge and pull it to pieces so 
 that no more should pass. To contain the water with- 
 in its bed some broad embankments of earth had been 
 made in very old times near to the bridge ; and under 
 cover of these embankments nearly all the armed 
 Saxons had been mustered by I^ord Hereward at a 
 very early hour in the morning, yet not until divers 
 other traps and pitfalls had been prepared for the 
 Normans. As the Lord of Brunn and the Ladie 
 Alftrude were walking from the manor-house to the 
 church, the good men lying in ambush by the river 
 side discovered a great troop pressing along the half- 
 inundated road towards the bridge. These Normans 
 had not been able to get their horses across the fens, 
 and therefore were they all coming on foot, cursing 
 the bogs and })ools and making a loud outcry when 
 they ought all to have been silent. 
 
 Girolamo and Elfric, who were holding some coils 
 of rope in their hands behind the embankment, 
 presently heard Ivo Taille-Bois say to his brother, 
 ' Vive Notre Dame, the wooden bridge is standing ! 
 The fools have not had wit enough to see that it 
 ought to be cut down ! Set me down this Hereward 
 for an ass! Come on, GeoffVoy, this detestable foot- 
 march is all but over. Behind that hill and grove 
 stands thy manor-house, and therein thy bride.' 
 
166 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' We shall soon see that/ said Elfric to himself, ' and 
 thou shalt soon see whose bride the Lady Alftrude is.' 
 This while Girolamo was peeping at the head of the 
 Norman column ; and he kept peeping until Ivo Taille- 
 Bois and his brother Geoffroy and some half-score men- 
 at-arms came upon the bridge and fairly crossed it. 
 And then, as the rest of the diabolical band were about 
 to follow, Elfric gave a shrill whistle, and tugged at 
 his rope, and the other good Saxons pulled hard at 
 other ropes, and in the twinkling of an eye the bridge 
 fell to pieces, and Ivo and his brother and such as had 
 followed them remained on this side of the bridge, and 
 the rest of the Normans remained on the other side of 
 the bridge. And then a score of horns sounded lustily 
 along the ambuscaded line, and fourscore well-armed 
 Saxons vaulted from their wet lair to the top of the 
 embankments, and set up a shout, and sent such a 
 flight of arrows across the river as put the Normans on 
 the other side to a rapid flight along the causeway. 
 Ivo and his brother and the rest that had crossed the 
 bridge ran along the inner bank of the river followed 
 by hearty laughter and a few sharp arrows from the 
 Saxons ; but they had not gone far when what seemed 
 hard and dry ground broke in under their feet, and let 
 them all drop into a quagmire or pool, one not quite so 
 foul as some of those by Crowland Abbey, but still foul 
 enough. It was not until he saw them safely deposited 
 in this place that Elfric went in search of his master ; 
 and as he went off for the church he enjoined the 
 Saxons, in Lord Hereward's name, to do the Normans 
 no further hurt. 
 
 Now, as the Lord of Brunn strode down from the 
 hill towards the riverside, and as the Saxons on the 
 embankment shouted, ' Here ward for England ! ' Ivo 
 Taille-Bois, all in his woeful plight, looked hard at the 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE l67 
 
 Saxon warrior, and as Hereward came nearer, Ivo said, 
 ' Peste ! brother Geoffroy, but this Hereward is the 
 very man that shivered my shield with his battle-axe 
 and unhorsed me at Hastings. An I had thought he 
 had been so near I would not have come with thee on 
 thy accursed wooing ! ' 
 
 * Brother Ivo,' said Geoffroy, 'it is thou that hast 
 brought me into this evil with thy mad talk about 
 Saxon heiresses. But let us confess our sins, for our 
 last moment is at hand. My feet are sinking deeper 
 and deeper in the mud : I can scarcely keep my moutli 
 above the surface of this feculent pool ! ' 
 
 When the Lord of Brunn came up to the edge of 
 the pool with Elfric and Girolamo, and all his merry 
 men who had been standing on the embankments, 
 and who could no longer see the Normans who had 
 fled from the opposite side of the river, the Norman 
 men-at-arms that were floundering in the pool with 
 their leader set up a cry about misericorde and ran- 
 som ; and even the great Taille-Bois himself called 
 out lustily for quarter; while his brother, who was a 
 shorter man, cried out that he would rather be killed 
 by the sword than by drowning, and piteously im- 
 plored the Saxons to drag out of that foul pool no less 
 a knight than Geoffroy Taille-Bois. 
 
 ' Verily,' said Elfric, who understood his French, 
 ' verily. Master Geoffroy, thou art in a pretty pickle 
 to come a-wooing to the fairest and noblest maiden in 
 all England.' 
 
 ' That is he ! ' said the Lord of Brunn, who at first 
 took more notice of Geoffroy, nay, much more notice 
 than he took of Ivo ; ' and I believe that if he were 
 in better case, and a Saxon, and no Norman, he would 
 not be a very dangerous rival.' 
 
 ' Hereward of Brunn,' said Ivo, whose teeth were 
 
168 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 chattering with cold, if not with fear ; ' Hereward 
 the Saxon, an thou be he, bid thy churls draw us from 
 this pool, and I will settle with thee the terms of 
 ransom. Thou canst not wish that we should be 
 smothered here ; and if thou art a soldier, thou wilt 
 not put to the sword two knights of name, who have 
 been most unfairly entrapped by a set of boors.' 
 
 ' Ivo Taille-Bois the Norman, an thou be he/ said 
 Hereward, ' I wish neither to drown nor to slay thee 
 by the sword ; at least not at this present ; but I 
 would fain humble thy pride and arrogance, and give 
 thee some reason to remember thy foul attempt to 
 seize and force the will of a noble maiden whom thou 
 believedst to be defenceless ! ' 
 
 'As for being entrapped by boors,' said Girolamo 
 of Salerno, ' thou art mistaken, O Taille-Bois ! in that, 
 for I, thine equal, laid the trap into which thou art 
 fallen.' 
 
 ' And foul designs deserve foul traps,' said Elfric. 
 
 ' I know not what design thou layest to my charge,' 
 said Ivo. ' I am true liege man to King William, the 
 lawful heir of King Edward, of happy memory : the 
 heiress of these lands is in the king's peace, and under 
 the protection of the primate Lanfranc : and I, the 
 Vicomte of Spalding, hearing that there were troubles 
 in these parts, was coming only to place the lady in 
 security.' 
 
 ' Ay, such security as the wolf giveth to the lamb,' 
 said Hereward. ' But Ivo, add not more guilt and 
 dishonour to thy soul by lying ! The intent of thy 
 coming, and the object for which thou hast brought 
 thy brother with thee, are as well known to me as 
 to thyself. Ye Normans be all too talkative to keep 
 a secret, and if King Harold had Saxon traitors that 
 betrayed him, so have ye men in your camps and in 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE 169 
 
 your stations that think it no sin to betray you Nor- 
 mans. Have a heed to it, Ivo ! and bethink thyself 
 in time that all Saxons be not so dull-witted as thou 
 imaginest.' 
 
 Geoffroy Taille-Bois, greatly encouraged by the Lord 
 of Brunn's assurance that death was not intended 
 either by drowning or by the sword, spoke out as 
 boldly and as cleai'ly as the chattering of his teeth 
 would allow, and said, ' Saxon, methinks that thou 
 talkest at an unfair vantage, and that we might settle 
 the matter of ransom the sooner if we were on dry 
 land.' 
 
 ''Tis well thought,' replied Hereward, 'for I have 
 small time to lose in parley. This is my wedding 
 day, Sir Geoffroy. My bride, the Ladie Alftrude, is 
 in the church, and the priest is waiting for me Avith 
 open book at the altar. My humour is that thou 
 and thy brother shall be witnesses to our marriage 
 ceremony. Come, my good Saxons, drag me this pond, 
 and pull out those big Norman fish ! ' 
 
 A score of Saxons instantly threw strong fishing- 
 nets and coils of rope across the pool. The men-at- 
 arms, seeing that quarter was to be given, gladly 
 caught hold of the ropes, and so were landed ; but 
 the mention of the marriage, and of Hereward's 
 humour to have them both present at it as witnesses, 
 had so filled the minds of Ivo and his brother with 
 trouble and shame, that they caught neither at the 
 ropes nor at the nets, seeming to prefer tarrying 
 where they were to going up to the church. The 
 Lord of Brunn waxed impatient ; and making a sign 
 to Elfric, that nimble sportsman threw a noose over 
 the surface of the pool, and threw it with so good an 
 aim that he caught Geoffroy round the neck ; and 
 then giving his coil a good tug, which brought the 
 
170 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 head of the unlucky rival of his master under water, 
 Elfric shouted, 'Come out, thou false Norman, come 
 out, and to the wedding, or be drowned or hanged — 
 I care not which.' 
 
 Geoffrey, thus hardly entreated, waded and struggled 
 to the brink as best he could, and was there pulled 
 out all covered with mud, or with the green mantle 
 of the pool. Ivo, apprehending a rope round his own 
 neck, caught hold of one of the nets that the shouting 
 and laughing Saxons kept throwing at him, and he too 
 was dragged out of the water, all bemired or green, 
 and almost breathless. 
 
 Such of the men-at-arms as had kept their weapons 
 had laid them at the feet of Lord Hereward, in token 
 of unconditional surrender. Geoffroy, the unlucky 
 wooer, had no weapon to give up, having left his 
 sword in the pool ; but his brother Ivo had his broad 
 blade at his side, and when called upon to surrender 
 it, he made a wry face and said that a knight ought 
 to surrender only to a knight, meaning thereby to 
 taunt the Lord of Brunn with his not having been 
 admitted into the high military confraternity. 
 
 'Ivo,' said Hereward, 'I told Raoul, that dis- 
 possessed usurper and robber, and I now tell thee, 
 that I shall soon be a knight, meaning that I shall 
 be one according to usage and rites and ceremonies. 
 True knighthood is in the heart and soul of man, and 
 not in the ceremonies. Were I not already a truer 
 knight than thou, I would hang thee and thy brother 
 to these willow-trees, and butcher thy men here, even 
 as too many of ye Normans have butchered defenceless 
 Saxon prisoners after surrender. Give up thy sword, 
 man, or it may not be in my power to save thee from 
 the fury of my people ! Give up thy sword, I say ! ' 
 
 Ivo began a long protest, which so incensed Elfric 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE 171 
 
 and Girolamo, that they drew their own blades ; but 
 the Lord of Brunn bade them put up their weapons, 
 and then said to the proud Norman knight, 
 
 ' Traitor and spoiler as thou art, talk no more of dark 
 stratagem and treachery ! A people, struggling for 
 their own against numerous and organised armies, 
 must avail themselves of the natural advantages which 
 their soil and country, their rivers and meres, or 
 mountains may afford them. No stratagem is foul : 
 the foulness is all in the invaders and robbers. Armies 
 are not to be bound by the rules of thy chivalry. 
 Until my forces be both increased and improved, I 
 will risk no open battle, or adventure any number of 
 my men in an encounter with the trained troops from 
 Normandie, and from nearly all Europe besides, that 
 have been making a constant occupation and trade of 
 war for so long a season. This I frankly tell thee ; but 
 at the same time I tell thee to thy teeth, that if I and 
 thou ever meet on a fair and open field, I will do thee 
 battle hand to hand for that sword which thou must 
 now surrender. Norman ! I would fight thee for it 
 now, but that the field is not fair here — but that these 
 rough fen-men would hardly allow fair play between 
 us — but that this is my wedding-day, and the priest 
 and my bride are waiting. Man, I will brook no more 
 delay — give me thy sword or die ! ' 
 
 Ivo Taille-Bois stretched out his unwilling arm, 
 and holding the point of his sword in his own hand, 
 he put the hilt of it into the hand of the English 
 champion, who threw it among the heap of Norman 
 swords that lay at his back. 
 
 At this new mark of contempt, Ivo muttered, ' Was 
 ever knight treated in so unknightly a manner ! 
 Must I really be dragged to the church by these 
 dirty clowns } ' 
 
172 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 To this my Lord Hereward replied, ' Did ever 
 knight engage in such unknightly deed ! Yea, Ivo, 
 and thou, Geoffroy, likewise, I tell ye ye must to the 
 church ; and if ye will not go but upon compulsion, 
 these honest men and clean shall drag ye both 
 thither.' 
 
 'Then,' said Geoffroy, speaking mildly, ' permit us 
 at least to wipe this mud from our hose, and this green 
 slime from our coats.' 
 
 ' It needs not,' said the Lord of Brunn, with a 
 laugh ; ' thine hose are not so dirty as the motive 
 which brought thee hither, and thine head is as green 
 as thy coat. So close up, my men, and let us march.' 
 
 The Lord Hereward, however, did not prevent Ivo 
 from rubbing himself down with the skirt of a coat 
 appurtenant to one of his men-at-arms. As for 
 Geoffroy, Elfric would not permit a Norman to ap- 
 proach him ; and when he would have stopped by the 
 hillside to rub himself against a tree, as our fen 
 swine use when they would clean themselves from 
 the mud of the marshes, Elfric or some other zealous 
 Saxon got between him and the tree and pushed him 
 forward. 
 
 In this wise — the Normans groaning and distilling, 
 and the Saxons laughing and shouting — the whole 
 mixed party ascended the hill and came to the church. 
 The Lord Herewai'd's absence from the church had 
 been but short — it had not lasted an hour in all — yet 
 were the priest and the goodly company assembled 
 growing very impatient, and the Ladie Alftrude very 
 much alarmed, albeit she was a maiden of high 
 courage, as befitted one who lived in troublous times, 
 and she had been opportunely advised that the Lord 
 Hereward had only gone to an easy triumph. But 
 bright, though bashfully, beamed her blue eye when 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE 173 
 
 Hei'eward appeared in the porch. But Avho were 
 these two forlorn Norman knights walking close be- 
 hind him with their heads bent on their breasts and 
 their eyes on the ground ? Ha, ha ! sweet Ladie 
 Alftrude, thine own eye became more bashful, and 
 thy blush a deeper red, when thou didst see and 
 imderstand who those two knights were, and why 
 they had been brought into the church ! The dames 
 and damsels of the company all stared in amaze; 
 and the Saxon priest, still standing with open book, 
 started and crossed himself as he looked at Ivo Taille- 
 Bois and his brother Geoffroy. 
 
 'They be but two Avitnesses the more,' said bold 
 Hereward. ' We will tell thee at the feast how pro- 
 per it is that they should be here ; but now, good 
 priest, go on with that which their arrival interrupted. 
 Elfric, make space here near the altar for our two 
 unbidden guests. Dames, come not too near them, for 
 they be very cold strangers ! ' 
 
 The marriage ceremony then went on to its happy 
 completion, Ivo Taille-Bois and his brother Geoffroy 
 grinding their teeth and groaning inwardly all the 
 while : and even thus was it made to come to pass 
 that those who would have carried off the Ladie 
 Alftrude were forced to be witnesses to her union 
 with her old and true love. It was a tale for a 
 menestrel ; and a pretty tale Elfric made of it, at a 
 later date, to sing to his four-stringed Saxon lyre. 
 
 'And now,' shouted the bountiful Lord of Brunn, 
 as they all quitted the church, ' now for the wassail- 
 bowl and the feast in hall ! Ivo Taille-Bois, and thou 
 Geoffroy, much as thou wouldst have wronged us, we 
 bid thee to the feast — the Ladie Alftrude and I bid 
 thee to our marriage feast ! ' 
 
 'Throw me rather into thy dungeon,' said Geoffroy. 
 
174 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' Enough of this farcing/ said Ivo. ' Hereward the 
 Saxon^ name the terms of the ransom, and let us be 
 gone from thy presence. Ladie Alftrude, remember 
 that I am thy cousin by marriage.' 
 
 ' Methinks/ rephed Alftrude, ' that thou oughtest to 
 have remembered that same fact before coming with 
 thy men-at-arms against me.' 
 
 But, after saying these words, the gentle and kind- 
 hearted Saxon bride, stepping aside from the throng, 
 spoke for a while in Lord Hereward's ear; and after 
 that the Lord of Brunn, who was radiant with joy as 
 ever was knight that sat with King Arthur at the 
 Round Table, turned to Ivo and GeofFroy, and said : 
 
 ' Unwilling guests mar a feast. Since you will not 
 come willingly, you need not come at all. A Saxon 
 manor-house hath no dungeon in it or near it, and at 
 present I have no wish to keep you in duresse, Saxon 
 chiefs were ever generous on their happy days, and 
 when shall I find a day so happy as this .^ I will ask 
 no ransom, for thou, Sir GeofFroy, art but a pauper; 
 and thou, O Ivo, albeit thou callest thyself Vicomte 
 of Spalding, thou wilt soon find thyself as moneyless 
 and as landless as thy brother ! I will ask for no vows 
 or promises, for well I ween ye would break them all. 
 I will only ask of thee, O Ivo, that if we twain meet 
 on some field of battle, thou wilt not turn from me ! 
 Thy half score men-at-arms we will send to the Camp 
 of Refuge, that they may be exchanged for a like 
 number of Saxon prisoners ; but for thyself, and for thy 
 brother, I say get ye gone, and tell your Normans in 
 Stamford town, ay, and in London city, all that you 
 have seen and heard this day, and all that they may 
 expect if they come to make war in the fen country.' 
 
 ' How can we get gone .'' The bridge is broken, and 
 we cannot cross that cursed river,' said Ivo. 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE 175 
 
 ' Thy Saxon boors will murder us on the road/ said 
 Geoffroy. 
 
 ' Not on our lands ; not within the bounds of Ladie 
 Alftrude's domains. Elfric, Girolamo, conduct these 
 Norman knights across the river, and send a few good 
 men to escort them to the edge of the fen country. 
 Let not a drop of blood be spilt, nor so much as a hair 
 of their head be injured. It were of ill omen that 
 blood should be shed on this day. There will be a 
 time for that hereafter. Come, make good speed, for 
 the feast will be but dull until Elfric returns.' 
 
 ' But wilt thou not give us back our swords, that we 
 may defend ourselves with them in case of attack .'' ' 
 said Ivo. 
 
 ' No, no,' quoth the Lord of Brunn ; ' we must keep 
 the swords to show that ye have been hereabout — 
 that ye have been our surrendered prisoners. As for 
 self-defence, ye had better not think of that until ye 
 get back to Stamford town. Ye must trust to my 
 escort, and to the respect and obedience paid to me 
 by all this fen country. If our fenners were to fall 
 upon ye, it is not your brace of swords that would be 
 of any use.' 
 
 ' Then I say again we shall be murthered on the 
 road,' said Geoffroy. 
 
 * And I again say nay,' quoth the Lord of Brunn. ' I 
 tell ye again, that ye shall have safe escort to the 
 edge of the fens, and that not a hair of your head shall 
 be injured — provided only ye do not insult homely 
 honest folk by calling them foul names, or by other- 
 wise treating them discourteously, for if ye offend in 
 that way the Saxon blood may boil up and cause my 
 orders to be forgotten. So now go ! — and if I cannot 
 say Fare ye well for aye, I say. May ye fare well as 
 far as Stamford, and until we meet on a fair field, 
 
176 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 where thou and I, Sir Ivo, may prove which is the 
 better man or the better knicfht.' 
 
 As the two Normans walked oft' the ground, they 
 looked so crestfallen and woe-begone that the Ladie 
 Alftrude quite pitied them, and chided her maid 
 Mildred for so loudly laughing at them and pointing 
 the finger of scorn at them. But others wanted this 
 chiding as much as Mildred, seeing that every Saxon 
 maid and every Saxon matron present were laughing 
 and tittering at Geoffi'oy Taille-Bois's unlucky wooing, 
 and his damp and dismal case. 
 
 The marriage feast in the hall was sumptuous and 
 most joyous. It was enlivened and lengthened by 
 tricks of jugglery and legerdemain, by the recitation of 
 tales, legends, and romances, and by lays sung to 
 musical instruments, for although the notice given had 
 been so short, many jugglers and menestrels had hurried 
 to Ey from different parts of the fen country. In 
 nearly all the rest of broad England the art of the 
 Saxon menestrel was now held in scorn ; and the mene- 
 strel himself was oppressed and persecuted, for his tales 
 and songs all went to remind the Saxon people of their 
 past history, of their heroes and native saints, and of 
 their past independence. But this persecution had 
 driven many towards the eastern coasts, and thus it 
 was that the fen country and the Camp of Refuge as 
 much abounded with Saxon menestrels as with dis- 
 possessed Saxon monks. Of those that flocked in 
 troops to the manor-house at Ey, to sing at the marriage 
 feast, it may be judged whether they did not exert 
 their best skill on so solemn an occasion ! Loudly and 
 nobly did they sing Athelstane's Song of Victory, 
 which related how Athelstane the King, the Lord of 
 Earls, the rewarder of heroes, and his brother Edmund 
 of the ancient race, triumphed over the foe at Brunan- 
 
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE 177 
 
 burg, cleaving their shields and hewing their banners ; 
 how these royal brothers were ever ready to take the 
 field to defend the land and their homes and hearths 
 against every invader and robber ; how they had made 
 the Northmen sail back in their nailed ships, on the 
 roaring sea, over the deep water, after strewing the 
 English shore with their dead, that were left behind 
 to be devoured by the sallow kite, the swarth raven, 
 the hoary vulture, the swift eagle, the greedy goshawk, 
 and that grey beast the wolf of the weald. And as 
 the menestrel sang, the drinking-horn, capacious as 
 became the hospitality of that old Saxon house, was 
 handed quickly round by page and waiting-man, who 
 carried great vessels in their hands, and filled the dark 
 horn right up to its silver rim with mead, or wine, or 
 pigment, every time that they presented the horn to 
 gentle or simple. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HOW LORD HEREWARD AND HIS LADIE LIVED AT EV 
 
 Even when the marriage festival was over it was a 
 happy and a merry life that which they led in the 
 good Saxon manor-house, and discreet and orderly 
 withal. It being the wolf-raonth of the year (Janu- 
 arius), when the days are still short and the nights 
 long, Hereward and the Ladie Alftrude, together with 
 the whole household, rose long before it was daylight. 
 Before attending to any household or other duties, 
 prayers were said in the hall by Alefric, the good 
 mass-priest, all the servants of the house and all the 
 indwelling serfs being present thereat. Some short 
 time after prayers the first of the four meals of the 
 day was served by torch or candle-light, and the 
 lord and ladie broke their fast ; and when they had 
 finished the meal the door of the house was thrown 
 open, and the poor from the neighbouring township, 
 or the wanderers that had no home, were admitted 
 into the house, and the lord and ladie with their own 
 hands distributed food among them, and while they 
 distributed it the mass-priest blessed the meat and 
 said a prayer. And this being over they went forth 
 at early-dawn to the little church on the hill behind 
 the linden-grove and there heard mass. The ladie 
 then went home to attend unto domestic concerns, 
 and the lord went forth with his hawks and proper 
 
 17S 
 
LIVING AT EY 179 
 
 attendants to hawk by the river, or he took forth his 
 hounds (of that famous breed of English dogs which 
 hath been famed in all times, and as well for war as 
 for hunting, and which hath been so much coveted 
 by foreign nations that already it beginneth to dis- 
 appear from this land), and he called together the 
 free men of the vicinage that loved the sport, and 
 such of the serfs as were best practised in it, and 
 went well armed with venabula or hunting-spears into 
 the fens and covers to hunt the hart and hind, or the 
 wild goat, or the wild bull of the fens, or the wild 
 boar, or the grey wolf, which was not yet extinct in 
 these parts of England. 
 
 It was a good law of King Canute, which said 
 that every free man in England might hunt in his 
 own woods and grounds, and hunt as much as he list, 
 })rovided only he interfered not with the royal parks 
 and demesnes. But the Norman princes, not content 
 with spreading their parks all over the country, and 
 with seizing upon the lands of the church and the 
 poor to make them great hunting-grounds and deer- 
 parks, established cruel laws therewith, so that whoso- 
 ever slew a hart or a hind should be deprived of his 
 eyesight ; and Duke William forbade men to kill the 
 hart or the boar, and, as our Saxon chronicler saith, 
 he loved the tall deer as if he were their father ! and 
 likewise he decreed that none should kill so much as 
 a hare, and at this the rich men bemoaned and the 
 poor men shuddered. Old England will not be 
 England until these un-Saxon laws be entirely gone 
 from us ! 
 
 From this good sport Lx)rd Hereward returned to 
 the house about an hour before the sun reached the 
 meridian, and then was served the abundant dinner 
 in the hall ; and the not stinted dinner in the kitchen 
 
180 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 for the churls and serfs followed the dinner in the 
 hall. If the weather was fine, the lady as w^ell as 
 the lord went out in the afternoon to hawk, or to fish, 
 or to see the pleasant and profitable spoi't of their 
 expert fenners who snared the wild fowl, or took the 
 animals of the chace by means of fovecL' or deep pit- 
 falls which they cunningly dug in the ground in the 
 likeliest places, and still more cunningly concealed 
 by laying across them sticks, and twigs, and moss, 
 and turf. As the sun set they returned again to the 
 house and sang in concert with all the household 
 the Ave Maria, or they went into the little church 
 and heard the full service of Vespers. Upon these 
 duties of religion there followed a slight 7nerenda or 
 afternoon's drinking, or refection between dinner and 
 supper ; and then Elfric or some other skilful wight 
 made music in the hall by playing upon the harp and 
 singing ; or Alefricus, that learned clerk, brought 
 down a book and read in it, or the freedmen and 
 elders of the township gathered round the cheerful 
 hearth with the lord and ladie, and related tales and 
 legends of the old times, or took counsel with Here- 
 ward as to the future. If a Saxon gleeman came 
 that way he Avas ever welcome ; and these evening 
 hours were often made to pass away the more plea- 
 santly by the arrival of such a stranger, who, mayhap, 
 could sing a new song, or tell an unheard tale, or 
 give some little intelligence of what was passing in 
 the upland country and in the world beyond the fens. 
 No Saxon chief of fame ever stinted the bard ; and 
 whether he went south or north, east or west, the 
 menestrel found every hall open to him, and had but 
 to speak his wants and to raise his grateful voice, 
 and all and more than he wanted was given unto 
 him. When he entered a house they brought him 
 
LIVING AT EY 181 
 
 water to wash his hands and warm water for his feet, 
 or they prepared for him the warm bath, which was 
 ever offered in good Saxon houses on the arrival of 
 an honoured and welcome guest — and where was the 
 guest that could be more welcome than the bard ? 
 So dearly did the Lord of Brunn love the sound of 
 the harp that it was his occasional custom now, and 
 his constant custom in after-life, to place a harper 
 near his bedchamber to amuse and solace him upon 
 occasion, and for the exhilaration of his spirits and 
 as an excitement to devotion. And it was because 
 Hereward so loved menestrels, and pious and learned 
 men of the Saxon stock, that his friends and adherents 
 were so numerous while he was living, and his deeds 
 so faithfully recorded and lovingly preserved when 
 he was dead. Thus music and talk brought on the 
 hour for supper; and after supper the good mass- 
 priest said prayers in the hall to gentle and simple; 
 and then, when a good watch had been set, all of the 
 household went to their beds and prayed to lead as 
 happy a life on the morrow as that which they had 
 led to-day : for, whether serfs, or free-born men, or 
 manumitted churls, all were happy at Ey, and most 
 kindly entreated by lord and ladie twain ; in such 
 sort that what happened in other houses, as the 
 running away of serfs, or the putting collars round 
 their necks and gyves to their legs to prevent their 
 running away, never happened here or at Brunn. 
 
 And if they lived thus happily and orderly for these 
 few days at Ey, when danger was close at hand, and 
 when they might be said to be living in the midst of 
 perils and uncertainties, I wist their rule was not 
 changed at a later time of their lives, when Hereward 
 and yVlftriide came to dwell in safety and tranquillity 
 at the noble old house at Brunn. 
 
182 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 But during these few tranquil clays at Ey the young 
 bride's mind was at times clouded by the thought that 
 her husband must soon leave her, to contend with the 
 pitiless Normans, and to rush into all the hazards of 
 war ; and, Saxon-hearted as she was, this afflictive 
 thought, being aided by the gentleness of her nature, 
 which ever revolted at bloodshed, made her long for 
 a peace upon almost any terms, not even excepting 
 that of submission to the Norman dominion. 
 
 ' My Hereward ! ' said the Ladie Alftrude, ' it is now 
 more than four years since the banner of King Harold 
 was laid low, and yet blood hath never ceased flowing 
 in England ! When will this cruel war come to an 
 end? Oh, Hereward, why wilt thou leave me again, 
 and so soon ? What art thou fighting for ? ' 
 
 ' Sweet Alftrude,' quoth the Lord of Brunn, ' I 
 am fighting for my country, for the Saxon church, 
 and for mine own inheritance ! A man can hardly 
 have more to fight for ! ' 
 
 ' But, Hereward, is not all the country, save this 
 most fenny part of it, quietly submitting to the 
 Conqueror ! Doth not Lanfranc the archbishop give 
 assurance that no lasting usurpation of the goods of 
 the church is contemplated, and that it is his wish 
 and intention only to improve the Saxon church and 
 the great and rich Saxon houses of religion by bring- 
 ing over from foreign parts some more learned priests, 
 and more learned and more active monks? And 
 are not these broad lands enough for thee and me ? 
 Nay, frown not ! and might not thine own lands at 
 Brunn be secured if thou wouldst submit and take 
 the peace of the Norman ruler ? Forgive me if I 
 err, as the error all proceeds from the love I bear 
 thee and the dread I have of losing thee. England, 
 we are told, was happy under the dominion of Canute 
 
LIVING AT EY 183 
 
 the Dane, and what was King Canute in England but 
 a conqueror ? And if Enghshmen were happy under 
 one foreign conqueror, might they not be happy under 
 another ? ' 
 
 ' Not so, sweet Alftrude. Canute was contented 
 to govern according to the old Saxon laws. When 
 he gave some new laws, they were the freest and best 
 that were ever given until those of Edward the Con- 
 fessor, and they were given with counsel of his Witan, 
 a free and honoured assemblage of Saxon lords and 
 Saxon bishops, Saxon abbats and priests, and Saxon 
 eldermen. And in those dooms or laws King Canute, 
 speaking with and for the Saxon Witan, said that 
 just laws should be established, and every unjust law 
 carefully suppressed, and that every injustice should 
 be weeded out and rooted up from this country ; and 
 that God's justice should be exalted; and that thence- 
 forth every man, whether poor or rich, should be 
 esteemed worthy of his folk-right, and have just 
 dooms doomed to him. And likewise did Canute, in 
 those dooms, which were conceived in the mild Saxon 
 spirit, raise his voice and set his face against death 
 punishments and all barbarous penalties. ''And we 
 instruct and command," said he, " that though a man 
 sin and sin deeply, his correction shall be so regulated 
 as to be becoming before God and tolerable before 
 men ; and let him who hath power of judgment very 
 earnestly bear in mind what he himself desires when 
 he thus prays — Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive 
 them that trespass against us. And we command 
 that Christian men be not, on any account, for al- 
 together too little, condemned to death, but rather let 
 gentle punishments be decreed, for the benefit of the 
 people ; and let not be destroyed, for little, God's 
 handiwork, and His own purchase which He dearly 
 
184 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 bought." Thus said King Canute in his dooms, and 
 in his days men in power were made to act according 
 to those mild laws. But how is it now, vmder the 
 Normans ? My gentle-hearted bride, I would not 
 wring thy heart and bring tears into thine eyes, but 
 is it not true that for any wrong done or offence 
 given — nay, for the allowable deed of defending their 
 own, and standing up for their country, Saxons of all 
 degrees are butchered like sheep in the shambles, or 
 are put to slow and horrible deaths, or are mutilated 
 in the limbs, or have their eyes put out, as if it Mere 
 no sin to spoil and destroy God's noblest handiwork ? 
 Nay, is not the life of a Saxon held as a thing of less 
 price than the life of a small deer ? By our old laws, 
 if the greatest thane in the land sIcav but the poorest 
 serf or lowliest churl, he made bot for it ; but now, 
 and even in those parts of England where the war 
 hath ceased, if the meanest Norman soldier kill twenty 
 Saxon serfs or slay a Saxon lord, no heed is taken of 
 it. The Saxons have no redress except that which 
 they may find in their own swords. Even in London 
 city, there is one law for the Saxons and another law 
 for the Normans. If a Saxon be accused of murder or 
 robbery, he is bound to justify himself according to 
 our ancient custom, by compurgation, and by the 
 ordeal of red-hot iron or boiling water ; but if a 
 Frenchman be accused of the like crime by a Saxon, 
 he vindicates himself by duello or single combat, or 
 simply by his oath, according to the law of Normandie. 
 King Canute said, " Let the free people of England 
 manage their own townships and shires, and learn to 
 govern themselves ; let no man apply to the king 
 unless he cannot get justice within his own hundred; 
 let there be thrice a-year a burgh-gemot, and twice 
 a-year a shire-gemot, unless there be need oftener; 
 
LIVING AT EY 185 
 
 and let there be present the bishop of the shire and 
 the elderman, and there let both expound as well the 
 law of God as the law of man." But William the 
 Norman alloweth not of these free things ; William 
 the Norman consulteth not the Witan of the nation, 
 but governeth the country through a Norman council. 
 When he was coming back from his pilgrimage to 
 Rome, King Canute sent a long letter to Egelnoth 
 the metropolitan, to Archbishop Alfric, to all bishops 
 and chiefs, and to all the nation of the English, both 
 nobles and commoners, greeting them all, and telling 
 them all that he had dedicated his life to God, to 
 govern his kingdoms with justice, and to observe the 
 right in all things. " And therefore," said he, " I beg 
 and command those mito whom I have entrusted the 
 government, as they wish to preserve my good will, 
 and save their own souls, to do no injustice either to 
 rich or to poor : and let those who are noble, and 
 those who are not, equally obtain their rights ac- 
 cording to their laws, from which no departure shall 
 be allowed either from fear of me, or through favour 
 to the powerful, or to the end of supplying my 
 treasury, for / fvant no money raised by injustice." But 
 what saith this Norman William ? He saith, " Get me 
 all the money ye can, and ^heed not the means!" 
 And hath he not extorted money by right and by 
 unright ? And have not his greedy followers done 
 worse than he in the land ? And are they not 
 building castles everywhere to make robbers' dens of 
 them ? And have they not made beggars of the rich, 
 and miserably swinked the poor — ay, even where 
 resistance was none after Hastings, and where the 
 Saxons prostrated themselves and trusted to the pro- 
 mises and oaths pledged by William at Westminster 
 and Berkhampsteadj that he would govern the land 
 
186 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 according to our old laws ? For the church, my sweet 
 Alftrude, I see not that it is to be improved by 
 thrusting out peaceful monks and priests of English 
 birth, and by thrusting in turbulent fighting priests, 
 who speak not and comprehend not the tongue of the 
 English people. Better men may come hereafter ; 
 but, certes, it is but an ungodly crew which, as yet, 
 hath followed Duke William and Lanfranc, the whilom 
 Abbat of Caen, into England ! Touching my poor 
 house and lands at Brunn, it is not by a mean sub- 
 mission to Duke William that I should ever keep 
 them from Raoul the Norman plunderer that had 
 seized upon them. They must be kept at the sword's 
 point, and at the SAvord's point must these thine own 
 good house and lands be maintained. The protection 
 of Lanfranc, given to the noble maiden and heiress of 
 Ey, will not be extended to the wife of Hereward of 
 Brunn, whom Normans call a rebel and an outlaw. 
 Oh, Alftrude, the wife of a soldier like me, and in a 
 war like this, hath need of a soldier's heart within her 
 own bosom ! ' 
 
 ' And I will find it or make it there, mine own 
 Hereward ! I knew the danger, and all the risk, and 
 thou thyself toldest me of it all before I became thine. 
 As I live and love thee, and by all the saints to whom 
 I pray for better times, I was thinking less of myself 
 than of thee when I spoke that which I have spoken. 
 Thou knowest the state of these great matters better 
 than a poor woman can know them, albeit I can 
 understand the difference between Canute the Dane 
 and William the Norman. If submission will not avail, 
 or if submission be dishonouring ' 
 
 ' It were in the lowest degree base and dishonour- 
 able ; for although I came over into England at thy 
 summons, it was to fight, and not to submit ; and 1 
 
LIVING AT EY 187 
 
 have since so pledged my faith to the Abbat of Ely 
 and to all the good lords in the Camp of Refuge, that 
 I would rather perish in these the first days of my 
 happiness than forego or wax cold in the good cause.' 
 
 'Then fight on, mine own brave H ere ward ! And 
 come what may, I will never murmur so that I be 
 near to thee ; and whether we live in plenty at Ey or 
 at Brunn, or wander through the wild fens poorer 
 and more unprovided than is the poorest churl that 
 now dwelleth within these gates, thou shalt hear no 
 complaint from me. Let not the wide seas, and evil 
 tongues, and false tales divide us evermore, and I 
 shall be happy.' 
 
 'And with such a bride, and such a wife, I shall be 
 invincible. Cheer up, my own Alftrude. If submission 
 will bring down utter ruin as well as utter shame, a 
 bold and persevering resistance, and an unflinching 
 hand-to-hand fight with the enemy, may bring her 
 old laws and liberties back to England, and bring to 
 us glory and happiness, and a peaceful and honoured 
 life in after-times. I would be a peaceful man, even 
 now, if so I might, and if I had less to fight for ; for, 
 albeit I love the art and stratagems of war, and the 
 rapture that is given by the well-contested combat, 
 I love not much blood, and never could get myself to 
 hate any man, or parties of men, for any length of 
 time. Were their rule less cruel and tyrannical to the 
 English people, and were my good friends and allies 
 secured in their lives, honours, and properties, I could 
 sit down quietly and in good fellowship with these 
 same Norman knights ; nay, I would not refuse a seat 
 on my hearth to Ivo Taille-Bois, or even to his brother 
 Geoftroy.' 
 
 ' Name not that ugly name,' said the Ladie Alftrude, 
 blushing a little. 
 
188 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 And here the discourses ended. The gentle ladie 
 had strengthened her heart with the great love that 
 was in it, so as to bear whatsoever might beftill her 
 as the mate of Lord Hereward, the last champion of 
 the Saxon liberties. 
 
 While the lord and ladie talked this above stairs, 
 there was something of the like discourse below stairs 
 between the waiting-woman and the sword-bearer ; 
 for maid Mildred, merry as she was, could not but 
 feel that Elfric was running a coui-se of great peril, 
 and that peace and tranquillity would be a blessed 
 thing, if it could only be obtained. Albeit the young 
 sword-bearer spoke not so knowingly of the old Saxon 
 laws, and the dooms of King Canute and of Witans 
 and Gemots, as did his lord, he found sufficiently 
 good arguments to show that the war was a just and 
 unavoidable war ; and that while everything was to be 
 hoped from bravery, there was nothing to be gotten 
 by a timid submission. There was another considera- 
 tion : 
 
 ' But for this war,' said Elfric, ' I must have become 
 a monk ! I am now a soldier and liege-man to Lord 
 Hereward, and ready, as soon as the lord and ladie 
 permit, to be thy loving husband, O Mildred of 
 Haddenham ! ' 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 HEREWARD IS MADE KNIGHT 
 
 Before the marriage festival was well ended, the 
 festival of the Epiphany arrived. The Lord of Brunn 
 could not go to Ely ; but he was now in constant 
 correspondence with the good Lord Abbat and the 
 prelates and lay nobles there ; and in sending off his 
 last Norman prisoners, he had sent to tell the abbat 
 that he must hold him excused, and that he would 
 eat the paschal lamb with him, hoping before the 
 Easter festival to have gained many more advantages 
 over the Normans. The returning messenger brought 
 Hereward much good advice and some money from 
 Ely. Among the many pieces of good counsel which 
 the Abbat Thurstan gave was this, that the young 
 Lord of Brunn should lose no time in getting himself 
 made a lawful soldier or knight, according to the 
 forms and religious rites of that Saxon military con- 
 fraternity which had been authorised by the ancient 
 laws of the country, and which had existed long 
 before the Normans came into England with their 
 new-fashioned rules and unholy rites. The great lay 
 lords at Ely and the Camp of Refuge had all been 
 initiated, and their swords had been blessed by Saxon 
 priests ; and as all these knights and lords had agreed 
 in appointing Hereward to the supreme command, it 
 behoved him to be inaugurated in the Saxon knight- 
 
 189 
 
190 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 hood ; otherwise there would be a mark of inferiority 
 upon him, and people might proclaim that he was 
 not a lawful soldier. Now the young Lord of Brunn 
 had thought well of these things before, and had 
 been reminded of them by the taunting Normans. 
 Any Lord Abbat or other prelate could perform the 
 rites. The Abbat of Crowland had now returned to 
 his house, and would rejoice to confer the honour 
 upon Hereward ; but Hereward's own uncle, and by 
 his father's side, was Lord Abbat of Peterborough ; 
 and not only was it more suitable that the rites 
 should be performed by him and in his church, but 
 also was it urgent that the young Lord of Brunn 
 should march speedily upon Peterborough in order to 
 rescue his kinsman and the Saxon monks that yet 
 lived under his rule from the oppression and tyranny 
 of the Normans. This uncle of Hereward and Lord 
 Abbat of Peterboi'ough, whose secular name was 
 Brand, had been sundry times plundered and mal- 
 treated, and now expected every day to be dispos- 
 sessed. Brand had not long been Lord Abbat, and 
 he had put on the Peterborough mitre, of silver 
 gilded, at a time of the greatest trouble. His pre- 
 decessor the Abbat Leofric had gone forth with the 
 English Army of King Harold ; and, after Hastings, 
 he had sickened, and, returning unto Peterborough, 
 he had died on the night of Allhallow mass : God 
 honour his soul ! In his day was all bliss and all 
 good at Peterborough. He was beloved of all. But 
 afterwards, as we shall see, came all wretchedness 
 and all evil on the minster : God have mercy on it ! 
 All that he could do had been done by good Leofric's 
 successor. Abbat Brand had given a large sum of 
 money to Duke William, in the view of keeping the 
 house and convent free from molestation. Always a 
 
HEREWARD IS MADE KNIGHT 191 
 
 rich and always a bountiful man had been the uncle 
 of Lord Hereward ; and while yet a cloister monk 
 and one of the obedientiarii, he had given to the 
 monastery many lands, as in Muscham, Schotter, 
 Scalthorp, Yolthorp, Messingham, Riseby, Normanby, 
 Althorp, and many other parts. Judge ye, therefore, 
 whether the brothers of Peterborough were not largely 
 indebted to Abbat Brand, and whether Abbat Brand 
 was not the proper man to confer Saxon knighthood 
 on his nephew. After the disastrous journey of Ivo 
 Taille-Bois and his brother to Ey, the news of which 
 was rumoured all over the country, Brand had dis- 
 patched an intelligencer to his bold nephew, and had 
 sent other messengers to his neighbours, and to all 
 the good Saxon people that dwelt between Peter- 
 borough and Stamford. He had beseeched Hereward 
 to march to his rescue, and to the rescue of his 
 house ; and Hereward, like the duteous nephew and 
 loving kinsman, had sent to promise that he would 
 be with him with good two hundred armed men on 
 the octave of the Epiphany. 
 
 But, before going for Peterborough, the young Lord 
 of Brunn had much to do in the way of collecting 
 men and arms, strengthening the house at Ey and 
 the house at Brunn, and the Abbey of Crowland, and 
 the succursal cell at Spalding ; and much time he 
 spent with Girolamo of Salerno in devising war 
 stratagems, and in planning the means by which the 
 whole fen country might be rendered still more defen- 
 sible than it was, as by the cutting of new ditches, the 
 making of sluices and flood-gates, movable bridges, 
 and the like. The men-at-arms, left by Ivo Taille- 
 Bois to guard the manor-house near to Spalding, 
 becoming sorely alarmed, and despairing of finding 
 their way across the fens, sent a Saxon messenger to 
 
192 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the returned Prior of Spalding, with an offer to sur- 
 render the house to the soldiers of Lord Hereward, if 
 the good prior would only secure them in their lives 
 by extending over them the shield of the church. 
 The conditions were immediately agreed to : a garri- 
 son of armed Saxons took possession of the moated 
 and battlemented house^ and the Normans were sent 
 as war prisoners to Ely. Hereward gave orders that 
 all due respect should be paid to the house, and to 
 all other the goods and chattels of the Ladie Lucia ; 
 for albeit that ladie was forcibly the wife of Ivo, she 
 was cousin to Alftrude and relative to King Harold, 
 and her heart was believed to be wholly Saxon. As 
 Brunn was a house of greater strength, and farther 
 removed from that skirt or boundary of the fen 
 country upon Avhich the Normans were expected to 
 collect their strength, Hereward removed his bride 
 to Brunn, and there he left her in the midst of friends 
 and defenders ; for his followers were now so numerous 
 that he could keep his promise with his uncle Brand 
 without leaving his bride exposed to danger, and 
 without weakening one of the sundry posts he had 
 occupied, as well along other rivers as upon the banks 
 of the Welland. 
 
 By the octave of the Epiphany, being the thirteenth 
 day of the wolf-month, or kalends of January, and 
 the day of Saint Kentigern, a Saxon abbat and con- 
 fessor, the Lord of Brunn was at the Abbey of 
 Peterborough with more than two hundred well- 
 armed Saxons ! and on that very night — a night of 
 the happiest omen — was begun his initiation in the 
 old abbey church. First, Hereward confessed himself 
 to the prior, and received absolution. After this he 
 watched all night in the church, fasting and praying. 
 At times a cloister monk prayed in company with 
 
HE REWARD IS MADE KNIGHT 193 
 
 him ; but for the most part he was left alone in the 
 ghostly silence of the place, where light was there 
 none save the cressets that burned dimly before the 
 effigies of his patron saint. But while he knelt there, 
 Elfric his faithful sword-bearer stood guard outside 
 the door of the church, whiling away the time as 
 best he could, by calling to mind all the legends and 
 godly stories connected with Peterborough Abbey and 
 its first founders, and specialiter that marvellously 
 pretty miracle which Saint Chad performed in the 
 presence of his recent convert King Wolfere. Which 
 miracle was this, according to the faithful relation of 
 Walter of Whittlesey, a monk of the house : One 
 day, after praying a long while with King Wolfere in 
 his oratory, the weather being warm, Saint Chad put 
 off his vestment and hung it upon a sunbeam, and 
 the sunbeam supported it so that it fell not to the 
 ground ; which King Wolfere seeing, put off his gloves 
 and belt, and essayed to hang them also upon the 
 sunbeam, but they presently fell to the ground, where- 
 at King Wolfere was the more confirmed in the faith. 
 In the morning, at the hour of mass Hereward placed 
 his sword upon the high altar ; and when mass had 
 been said, and he had confessed himself and been 
 absolved again, the Lord Abbat took the now hal- 
 lowed sword and put it upon Hereward's neck with a 
 benediction, and, communicating the holy mysteries, 
 finished the simple and altogether religious ceremo- 
 nial : and from thenceforward Hereward remained a 
 lawful soldier and Saxon knight. In the good Saxon 
 times men were never so vain and sinful as to believe 
 that a knight could make knight or that any lay lord, 
 or even any sovereign prince or king, could give ad- 
 mittance into the confraternity of knights by giving 
 the accolade with strokes of the flat of the sword 
 
194 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 upon the shoulders and with the tying on of spurs 
 and hauberks, and the girding on the sword, and 
 such like vanities. These things were brought in 
 among us by the Normans ; and being brought in, 
 our knights lost their religious character, and ceasing 
 to be the defenders of the Church, and the protectors 
 of all that wanted protection, they became unhal- 
 lowed oppressors, depredators, barefaced robbers, and 
 the scourges of their kind. And it was so at the 
 very first, that these Normans did affect to contemn 
 and abhor our old Saxon custom of consecration of a 
 soldier, calling our Saxon knights in derision priest- 
 made knights and shaveling soldiers, and by other 
 names that it were sinful to repeat. 
 
 The good Abbat Brand had now nothing more to 
 fear for his shrines and chalices. Every Norman 
 that was in Peterborough, or in the vicinage of that 
 town, fled to Stamford ; and the Lord of Brunn, with 
 the help of the Salernitan, strengthened the abbey, 
 and made good works to defend the approaches to it, 
 even as he had done at Crowland and elsewhere. 
 Happy was Abbat Brand, and hopeful was he of the 
 deliverance of all England ; but he lived not long 
 after this happy day, and when he was gone, cowardice 
 and treachery invaded his house, and monks who had 
 lost their English natures made bargains and com- 
 pacts with the Normans, and brought about many 
 calamities and shames, as will be seen hereafter. If 
 Brand had lived, or if Hereward could have I'emained 
 at Peterborough, these things would not have hap- 
 pened, and disgrace would not have been brought 
 down upon a convent which for four hundred and 
 more years had been renowned as the seat of devotion, 
 hospitality, and patriotism. But the Lord of Brunn 
 could not stay long on the banks of the Nene, his 
 
HERE WARD IS MADE KNIGHT 195 
 
 presence being demanded in many other places. Be- 
 tween the octave of the Epiphany and the quinzane 
 of Pasche, Hereward recovered or hberated twenty 
 good townships near the north-western skirts of the 
 great fen-country, fought and defeated Norman troops 
 in ten battles, and took from them five new castles which 
 they had built. A good score of Norman knights were 
 made captive to his sword ; but he had not the chance 
 to encounter either Ivo Taille-Bois or his brother. 
 
 As the paschal festival approached, Hereward re- 
 ceived various urgent messages from the Abbat of 
 Ely. These messages did not at all relate to the coming 
 festivity, and the promise of the Lord of Brunn to 
 be the Lord Abbat's guest : while Hereward had been 
 beating the Normans, and gaining strength on the 
 side of Peterborough and Stamford, the Normans had 
 been making themselves very strong at Cam-Bridge, 
 and were now threatening to make another grand 
 attack upon the Camp of Refuge from that side. 
 Abbat Thurstan therefore required immediate assist- 
 ance, and hoped that Hereward would bring with 
 him all the armed men he could. Moreover, jealousies 
 and heartburnings had again broken out among the 
 Saxon chiefs, who had all pledged themselves to 
 acknowledge the supreme authority of the Lord of 
 Brunn. If Hereward would only come, these dissen- 
 sions would cease. Other weighty matters must be 
 discussed ; and the discussion would be nought if 
 Hereward were not present. Thus strongly urged, 
 Hereward left his young wife in his house at Brunn, 
 and taking with him nearly three hundred armed 
 men, he began his march down the Welland in the 
 hope of raising more men in that fenniest of the fen- 
 countries, which lies close on the Wash, and with the 
 intention of crossing the Wash, and ascending the 
 
196 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Ouse in ships and boats. It grieved him to leave the 
 Ladie Alftrude, and much did it grieve Elfric his 
 sword-bearer to quit maid Mildred ; but Hereward 
 thought that his wife would be safe in his strong 
 house at Brunn, and Elfric was made happy by the 
 assurance that as soon as they came back again he 
 should be allowed to marry Mildred. The Ladie 
 Alftrude had shed a few tears, and her handmaiden 
 had made sundry louder lamentations ; but the ladie 
 was full of heart and courage and hope, nor did the 
 maid lament out of any fear. 
 
 When the Lord of Brunn moored his little fleet of 
 barks, and raised his standard on the shores of the 
 Wash, many more good fen-men came trooping to 
 him, as he had expected. Many came from Holland. 
 And how did they come .'' They came marching 
 through the mires and waters upon high stilts, look- 
 ing all legs, or, at a distance, like herons of some 
 giant breed. Voyagers have related that in that 
 sandy country which lies along the Biscayan gulf, 
 and between Bordeaux and Spain, men and women 
 and children all walked upon high stalking poles or 
 stilts, as the only means of getting across their soft, 
 deep sands ; and here, in the most marshy part of 
 the fens, men, women, and children were trained to 
 use the same long wooden legs, not to get over dry 
 loose sand, but to get over water and quagmire, 
 and broad and deep ditches. These stilted men of 
 Holland, who were all minded to go help in the 
 Camp of Refuge, threw their stilts into Lord Here- 
 ward's bark ; which was as if men of another country 
 should throw away their legs, for without these stilts, 
 we ween, there was no walking or wayfaring in 
 Holland : but the thing was done to show that they 
 were devoted to the good cause and put an entire 
 
HE REWARD IS MADE KNIGHT 197 
 
 trust in the victorious Lord of Brunn, and that they 
 would go with him, legs, arms, and hearts, wherever 
 he might choose to lead them. 
 
 At Lynn, on the other side of the Wash, still more 
 Saxons joined Lord Hereward's army, some of them 
 coming in boats, and some marching by land. Ha ! 
 had there been but five Herewards in England, 
 England would have been saved ! 
 
 It was on the eve of the most solemn, yet most 
 joyous festival of Pasche, or on the 24th day of the 
 month Aprilis, in the year of grace one thousand and 
 seventy-one, that the Lord of Brunn arrived with 
 his host at the great house of Ely, to the inconceivable 
 joy of every true Saxon heart that was there. Pass 
 we the welcome and the feast, and come we to the 
 councils and deliberations in the Aula Magna of the 
 house. On the third day after the paschal Sunday 
 all the Saxon lords and chiefs, prelates and cloister- 
 monks, met early in the morning, or immediately 
 after prime, and ceased not their deliberations until 
 the dinner hour. On one great point there was no 
 difference of opinion — the victorious Lord of Brunn 
 was to hold supreme command over all the troops 
 and bands, of whatsoever description, collected in 
 the Camp of Refuge, and have the entire management 
 of the war wherever it should be carried. On other 
 heads of debate opinions were very various, but the 
 greatest divergency of all was upon the question 
 whether the Danes should, or should not, be invited 
 again to the assistance of the Saxons. When all had 
 spoken on the one side or the other, and with much 
 vehemence of speech, the Lord of Brunn, who had 
 been forced to correct his taciturn habits, and to speak 
 on many occasions at greater length than he had ever 
 fancied he should speak, rose and said : 
 
198 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' Prelates and chiefs, ancients and younger men, if 
 one so young as myself may deliver opinions in this 
 assemblage, I would say let us take heed ere we 
 tamper any more with Danemarck. The woes of the 
 Anglo-Saxons first began when the Danes crossed the 
 seas in their nailed ships and came among them first 
 to rob and plunder, and next to seek a settlement in 
 this fat and fertile land of England. Our rubric is 
 filled with Saxon martyrs butchered by the Danes. 
 This noble house of religion where we now consult 
 was plundered and burned by the Danes ; and the 
 Danes slew all the ancient brotherhood of the house, 
 and did the foulest things upon the tombs of the four 
 Saxon virgins and saints — Saint Etheldreda, Saint 
 Saxburga, Saint Ermenilda, Saint Withburga. I am 
 lately from the Abbey of Peterborough, where 1 read 
 upon the monumental stones the names of the good 
 Saxon abbats and monks of that house that were 
 murthered by the Danes. The same thing happened 
 at Crowland, and at fifty more religious houses. The 
 Danes have been the great makers of Saxon martyr- 
 doms. The worst famed of our Saxon kings are 
 those who submitted to them or failed in conquering 
 them ; the name of King Alfred is honoured chiefly 
 for that he defeated the Danes in an hundred battles, 
 and checked their rapacity and blood-thirstiness.' 
 
 ' O Hereward of Brunn ! ' said the Bishop of 
 Lindisfarn, 'this is all true; but all this happened 
 when the Danes were unconverted Pagans.' 
 
 ' But good my Lord Bishop of Lindisfarn,' quoth 
 the Lord of Brunn, 'let us note well the conduct of 
 the Danes since they have been Christian men, and 
 we shall find as Saxons, that we have not much to 
 praise them for. Had it not been for the unmeet 
 alliance between Lord Tostig and the strangers, and 
 
HE RE WARD IS MADE KNIGHT 199 
 
 the invasion of Northumbria and York, and the need 
 King Harold lay under of breaking that unholy league, 
 and fighting Tostig in the great battle by Stamford 
 Bridge. King Harold would never have been worsted 
 at the battle of Hastings, for his armed forces would 
 have been entire, and fresh for the fight, instead 
 of being thinned as they were by that first bloody 
 combat, and worn out by that long march from York 
 unto Hastings.' 
 
 ' It was an army of Norwegians that fought King 
 Harold by Stamford Bridge,' said the Prior of Ely. 
 
 ' I fought in that battle,' (juoth Hereward, * and 
 know that it was a mixed army of Danes and Nor- 
 wegians, even like most of the armies that, for two 
 hundred years and more, devastated this land and 
 the kingdom of Scotland. But let that pass. Those 
 armies came as open enemies : let us see the conduct 
 of an army that came as friends. Only last year the 
 good Saxon people from the Tyne to the York Ouse 
 were deserted in the hour of success and victory by 
 an army of Danes, commanded by the brothers of 
 the King of Danemarck, who had been invited into 
 the country by the suffering Saxons, and who had 
 sworn upon the relics of saints not to leave this land 
 until it was clear of the Normans. The two royal 
 Danes took the gold of the son of Robert the Devil 
 and the harlot of Falaise, and thereupon took their 
 departure in their ships, and left the Saxons, with 
 their plan all betrayed, to be slaughtered in heaps, 
 and the whole north country to be turned into a 
 solitude and desert, a Golgotha, or place of skulls,' 
 
 ' This is too true,' said the Bishop of Durham ; ' and 
 terrible is all this truth ! ' 
 
 ' But, said the Bishop of Lindisfarn, ' the King of 
 Danemarck's brothers are not the King of Danemarck 
 
200 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 himself. We hear that the king is incensed at what 
 those brothers did, and that he hath banished them 
 from his presence and from the land of Danemarck, 
 and that he hath sworn by the rood that he will send 
 four hundred keels across the ocean, and take himself 
 the command of the army.' 
 
 * Yet even if he come,' quoth the Lord of Brunn, ' he 
 may prove as faithless and as greedy for gold as his 
 brothers ; or he may set up his pretended right to the 
 throne of King Harold, our absent but not lost lord, 
 and in that case we shall find that the Saxon people will 
 fall from our side ; for if they are to be cursed with a 
 new and foreign master, they will not overmuch care 
 whether his name be William of Normandy or Svend 
 of Danemarck.' 
 
 ' Assuredly not quite so/ said the Prior of Ely, who 
 opposed Hereward the more because the Lord Abbat 
 Thurstan was disposed to agree with him ; ' assuredly 
 not quite so, my Lord of Brunn, for there hath been 
 large admixture of Danish blood in our Anglo-Saxon 
 race, and Danes and English sprang, ah origbie, from 
 nearly one and the same great hive of nations in the 
 north.' 
 
 'And so also do these North men, or Normans,' said 
 Hereward, 'only they have more affinity to Danes and 
 Norwegians than to us ; and while the Danish pirates 
 were ravaging the coasts of England^ Rollo ravaged the 
 coasts of France, and gained a settlement of sovereignty, 
 and gave the name of Normandy to the country which 
 has now set forth these new conquerors and devastators 
 upon England. Trace back our blood to the source, 
 and I, and the Lord Abbat Thurstan as well as I, and 
 many other true Englishmen, natives of the English 
 Danelagh, may be called half Danes; but a man can 
 have only one country, and only one people that he can 
 
HE REWARD IS MADE KNIGHT 201 
 
 call countrymen, and these admixtures of blood in pai'ts 
 and parcels of England will not be considered by the 
 English people at large ; and let it be Danes, or let it 
 be NormanSj it will be the same to them.' 
 
 'But,' said the Abbat of Cockermouth, ^the Danes 
 be now very poor, and their king will not be able to 
 raise an army sufficiently strong to aim at any great 
 thing by himself.' 
 
 ' And therefore is it,' quoth the Lord of Brunn, ' that 
 come king or come king's brothers, they will get what 
 they can from us poor Saxons as the price of their 
 assistance, then get all the gold they can get from the 
 Normans as the price of their neutrality, then betray 
 ail such of our secrets as they possess, and then embark 
 and sail away for their own country, leaving us in a far 
 worse plight than before. I say, let us not send for 
 them, or ask their aid at all ! If a people cannot 
 defend themselves by their own swords, they will never 
 be defended at all. If England cannot be saved with- 
 out calling in one foreign people to act against another, 
 she will never be saved. If this king of Danemarck 
 comes this year he will act as his kinsmen did last year 
 and we shall rue the day of his coming. Wherefore, I 
 say, let us pray for the speedy return of King Harold, 
 and let us keep what little store of gold and silver we 
 possess to nurture and pay our own native soldiers, and 
 to purchase in the Netherlands such munition and war- 
 like gear as we may yet need ; but let us not waste it 
 by sending into Danemarck.' 
 
 'Were our enemies less numerous and powerful,' 
 said one of the chiefs, ' we still might hope to stand 
 our ground, in this wet and difficult corner of England 
 alone and unaided ! ' 
 
 'We shall be the better able to stand our ground 
 against any foe if we be on our guard against false 
 
202 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 friends, and keep our money and our own counsels/ 
 said Abbat Thurstan. 'Lord Hereward hath reason 
 for all he saith ; take my word for it he is right.' 
 
 But there were many there that would not take my 
 Lord Abbat's word, and that would not be persuaded 
 by the arguments of the Lord of Brunn ; and in an in- 
 auspicious hour it was determined to send an embassage 
 from the lords and prelates in the Camp of Refuge 
 to the king and lords and free rovers of Danemarck, 
 to implore their aid and assistance, and to present them 
 with a sum of money, as the earnest of a large future 
 reward. The strong money-box at the shrines of Ely 
 church, wherein the pilgrims deposited their offerings, 
 was now in reality broken open and emptied; at 
 which some of the unworthy members of the house 
 who had most opposed Hereward and their Lord Abbat 
 went about whispering and muttering, in the corners of 
 the cloisters, and even among the townfolk of Ely, that 
 sacrilege had been committed. Yet was the total sum 
 thus procured so very disproportionate to the well- 
 known appetites of the Danes for money, that a collec- 
 tion was made in the Camp of Refuge, and even Jews 
 were secretly invited from Norwich and St. Edmund- 
 bury in order to see whether they could be tempted 
 to advance some money upon bonds : and here were 
 raised fresh whisperings and murmurings about impiety, 
 together with severe censures on Abbat Thurstan for 
 want of uniformity or consistency of conduct, seeing 
 that he had formerly been the sworn foe to all the 
 Israelites whom the Normans had brought over in their 
 train ; and that, nevertheless, the convent were now 
 sending for the Jews to open accounts and dealings 
 with them. It suited not these backbiters to remem- 
 ber that they themselves, in determining that the aid 
 of the Danes should be required, had agreed that 
 
HERE WARD IS MADE KNIGHT 203 
 
 money should and must be sent to them, and that 
 when Abbat Thurstan said there was but very little 
 money in the house, they themselves had recom- 
 mended sending for the Israelites who made a trade of 
 usury. All points connected with the unhappy busi- 
 ness had been decided, after the public discussions in 
 the hall, by the members of the house in close chapter, 
 wherein the Lord Abbat had only given his vote as 
 one. But these unfaithful monks and untrue English- 
 men hoped to make people believe that their opinions 
 had been overruled, and that Thurstan was answerable 
 for everything. 
 
 It was also noticed — although not by the abbat and 
 the monks that were faithful unto him, and that were 
 never allowed to hear any of the whisperings and 
 murmurings — that several of those who had most 
 eagerly voted for calling in the assistance of the Danes 
 shrugged their shoulders whenever men mentioned 
 the expected invasion of the fen country and the new 
 attack on the Camp of Refuge, and spoke of the 
 Norman as a power too formidable to be resisted by 
 the English, or by any allies that the English could 
 now procure. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE AND A BATTLE 
 
 When the Normans first came into England, the town of 
 Cam-bridge, or Grant-bridge, was not the stately town 
 which we have seen it since, nor was it the flourishing 
 place which it had been in the time of the Saxon Hep- 
 tarchy. According to the Venerable Bede, Sebert, or 
 Sigebert, King of the East Angles, by the advice of 
 Felix the bishop, instituted within his kingdom a 
 school for learning, in imitation of what he had seen in 
 France ; and this school is believed to have been fixed 
 on the very spot where the town of Cam-bridge now 
 stands. Others there are who say that a school had 
 flourished there in the time of the Romans, and that 
 Sebert, or Sigebert, only restored this school in the 
 year of our Lord six hundred and thirty. Certain it is 
 that from a very early time Cam-bridge was the resid- 
 ence of many students, who at first lived in apartments 
 hired of the townspeople, and afterwards in inns or 
 hostels of their own, where they formed separate com- 
 munities, of which each was under its own head or 
 principal. But in the fiery distraction of the Danish 
 invasion of England, when abbats and monks and 
 religious women were slaughtei-ed at the feet of their 
 own altars, and churches and abbeys and monasteries 
 consumed, the pagan flames fell upon this quiet seat of 
 learning, and left nothing behind but ashes and ruins. 
 
 204 
 
THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE 205 
 
 After this the place lay a long time neglected. There 
 are some who write that when, about the year of grace 
 nine hundred and twenty, King Edward, surnamed the 
 Elder, and the eldest son and successor of Alfred the 
 Great, repaired the ravages of the Danes at Cam-bridge, 
 he erected halls for students and appointed learned 
 professors ; but these facts appear to be questionable, 
 and it is thought that, although learning would no 
 more abandon the place than the waters of the river 
 Cam would cease to flow by it, the scholars were in a 
 poor and insecure condition, and were living, not in the 
 halls or colleges of stately architecture, but under the 
 thatched roofs of the humble burghers, when the blast 
 of the Norman trumpets was first heard in the land. 
 At that sound all humane studies were suspended. 
 The town and territory round it were bestowed upon 
 a Norman chief, and Norman men-at-arms were quart- 
 ered in the houses which had lodged the students. 
 But it was not until the third year after the battle of 
 Hastings, when Duke William became sorely alarmed 
 at the great strength of the Saxons, gathered or still 
 gathering in the neighbouring isle of Ely, that Cam- 
 bridge felt to their full extent the woes attendant on 
 wars and foreign conquest. Then it was made a great 
 military station, and a castle was built to lodge more 
 soldiers, and command and control the town and all 
 the vicinity. Just beyond the river Cam, and opposite 
 to the little township, there stood, as there still stands, 
 a lofty barrow or mound of earth, overgrown with 
 green sward, and looking like those mounds which 
 the traveller observes by Salisbury plains, and on the 
 plain where the ancient city of Troy once stood. This 
 great cone was not raised and shaped by nature. The 
 common people, who will be for ever betraying their 
 ignorance, said that the devil had made it, for some 
 
206 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ridiculous purpose ; but learned men opined that it 
 had been raised by the ancient Britons for some pur- 
 pose of defence, or as some lasting monument to the 
 great dead. When the Romans came and conquered 
 the country, they had made an entrenched camp round 
 about this mound, and had built a tower or guard-house 
 upon the top of the mound ; but these works had 
 either been destroyed by the Danes or had been 
 allowed to fall into decay and into ruin through the 
 too great negligence of the Saxons. Now from the top 
 of this green hillock, looking across rivers and meres 
 and flat fens, where the highest tree that grew was the 
 marsh-willow, a good eye could see for many miles and 
 almost penetrate into the recesses of the isle of Ely 
 and the Camp of Refuge. The old Roman road or 
 causeway, called the Ermine Street, which led into 
 the heart of the fen country, ran close under the 
 mound and a little outside the trenches of the Roman 
 camp. Seeing all the advantages of the spot, as a 
 barrier for the defence of the country behind the Cam, 
 and as an advanced position on the side of the country', 
 and as a place of arms wherein might be collected 
 the means of attacking the indomitable Camp of 
 Refuge, the Normans cleared out the broad ditches 
 which the Romans had dug, and which time and 
 accident or design had filled up, restored the double 
 circumvallation of earthen walls or embankments, 
 erected a strong castle within, and raised the Julius, 
 or keep or main tower of the castle, upon the summit 
 of the mound, where the old Roman tower or guard- 
 house had stood. They had not been allowed to do 
 all this work Avithout many interruptions and night 
 attacks of the daring people of the neighbouring fens, 
 or by the bold Saxons who had fled for refuge into the 
 isle of Ely. But when the work was finished the 
 
THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE 207 
 
 Normans boasted that they had bitted and bridled 
 the wild Saxon horse of the fens. For some time past 
 knights, and men-at-arms, and bowmen, and foot- 
 soldiers, drawn from nearly every country in Europe 
 to aid the son of Robert the Devil in conquering the 
 little island of England, had been arriving at the 
 entrenched camp and castle of Cam-bridge ; whither 
 also had come from the city of London, and from 
 various of the towns and ports which had quietly 
 submitted to the strangers, great convoys of provisions 
 and stores of arms and armour and clothes ; and all 
 these aliens had been telling such of the English 
 people as could understand them, and had not fled 
 from the town, that they were going to assault the 
 great house at Ely and the Camp of Refuge, and hang 
 all the traitors and rebels they might find there, upon 
 the willow trees. Nothing, however, could be under- 
 taken in the land of marshes and rushes until the 
 rainy season should be over and the waters somewhat 
 abated. Now it happened this year that the rains 
 ceased much earlier than was usual, and that the 
 summer sun, as if impatient for empire, began to rule 
 and to dry up the wet ground long before the season 
 of spring was passed. There fell very little rain after 
 the quinzane of Pasche, but after the feast of Saint 
 Walburga the Virgin there fell no rain at all, and the 
 weather became uncommonly dry and hot. It was 
 pleasant to the eye to see the waters of the Cam, the 
 Ouse, the Welland, the Nene, the Witham, and the 
 other rivers retiring as it were into their natural beds, 
 and flowing very smoothly and clearly towards the 
 great Wash ; to see green meadows re-appear where 
 pools and meres had been, and flocks and herds 
 beginning to graze where boats and skerries and men 
 walking upon tall stilts had been seen but a few weeks 
 
208 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 before ; to see, as far as the eye could reach, a 
 beautiful green prospect, with rich pastures, gliding 
 rivers, and adornments of woods and islands. But if 
 this was pleasant to the eye, it was not conducive to 
 the security of the Saxon chiefs. On the vigil of 
 Saint Bede the Venerable, priest and confessor, which 
 falls on the twenty-seventh of the decades of May, 
 Eustache of Ambleville, a Norman captain of high 
 repute, who had come over with William and the first 
 incomers, and had fought at the battle of Hastings, 
 arrived at Cam-bridge with more soldiers, and with 
 orders from William to take the entire command of 
 all the forces collected in the camp and castle. 
 Eustache was so confident of an easy victory that he 
 would not allow himself to think of the possibility of 
 any defeat or reverse. As he looked from the top of 
 the keep towards Ely, he said, triumphantly : 
 
 ' The waters are gone, and I am come. The Camp 
 of Refuge is no more ! In three days' time we shall 
 be feasting in the hall of this rebellious abbat, who 
 hath so long defied us ! ' 
 
 The other knights that were to follow him in this 
 adventure were just as confident as Eustache of 
 Ambleville, and the men-at-arms were already calcu- 
 lating how they should divide the spoil that was to be 
 made at Ely. Little did they think how the shrine- 
 boxes had all been emptied ! Less still did they 
 think of the great loss of goods they themselves were 
 going to sustain ! 
 
 Much did these Normans pretend to despise our 
 Saxon fathers for their ignorance of the stratagems 
 of war, and for their general dulness : and yet it must 
 be confessed that they themselves gave very many 
 proofs of ignorance and dulness, as well as of great 
 negligence, the fruit of the unwise contempt in which 
 
THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE 209 
 
 they held their adversaries. Before the arrival of 
 Eustache some few of the Normans had ridden along 
 the causeway as far as they could conveniently go on 
 horseback ; but for the state of the country beyond 
 their ride they trusted to mere report, taking no pains 
 whatever to inform themselves accurately. They 
 had all been told of the extraordinary deeds which 
 Hereward had performed, but they gave the whole 
 merit of these exploits to Crowland devils and other 
 fiends and goblins that were not to be feared in 
 summer weather or in daylight. They had been told 
 that the Lord of Brunn was a well-skilled commander, 
 but they would not believe that any Saxon what- 
 soever could be a great soldier. Instead of being 
 cautious and silent as to their intended attack, they 
 had been loudly proclaiming it on every side. Certes, 
 Duke William was a knowing soldier himself, and one 
 that did great things in war, being cautelous and 
 discreet; but, wherever he was not, his chiefs in 
 command did not much. It was rather for the sake 
 of avoiding the heat of the day than for any other 
 reason that Eustache resolved to begin his march at 
 midnight. He did not think of surprising the Saxons, 
 and, as for being surprised by them, he scornfully 
 laughed at the notion. He wished, he said, that the 
 rebels and traitors should know that he was coming, in 
 order that they might collect all their forces in the camp, 
 and so afford him the opportunity of destroying them 
 all at one blow. His chief fear was that Herewai-d 
 the Saxon would flee from the mere terror of his 
 name. 
 
 On the midnight which followed the feast of Saint 
 Bede the Normans began to issue from their castle 
 and camp. There shone a bright moon along the 
 causeway where they formed their array. First went 
 
 o 
 
210 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 a great troop of horse with lances and long pennants 
 floating from them. Next went a body of archers 
 bearing long bows and quivers well stocked with long 
 arrows. Then followed a large and miserable com- 
 pany of Saxon serfs and hinds, who had been forcibly 
 impressed into the service, and who were laden like 
 beasts of burthen, carrying stores and provisions on 
 their backs, and hurdles, and planks, and other pieces 
 of timber, by means of which these too confident 
 Normans hoped to be able to cross every ditch, 
 stream, and river. After this unhappy company there 
 marched another band of archers ; and then there 
 went another and still greater body of horse ; and in 
 the rear of all were more bowmen. As the laised 
 road was very narrow the horsemen marched only two 
 abreast, and the footmen only three abreast ; and 
 thus, as the total number of the army was great, the 
 line was very long and thin ; and the knights riding 
 in the rear would seldom either hear or see what was 
 passing in the van. Yet merrily and thoughtlessly 
 they went on singing their Norman war-songs, their 
 bridles ringing shai-p and clear in the cool night air 
 as if to accompany the music of their songs, and their 
 bright lance-heads glinting in the moon-light : thus 
 merrily and thoughtlessly until the van came abreast 
 of Fenny Ditton, where the road or causeway was 
 flanked on either side by a broad deep ditch or canal, 
 and by a long belt of thick-growing willows and alders. 
 But here Eustache, and the other knights that rode 
 in the van, heard a loud voice shouting in very good 
 Norman-French : ' Halt, horse and foot ! No further 
 to-night ! Saxons true do forbid your advance ! ' 
 
 And, well nigh at the same moment those knights 
 and soldiers that rode in the rear heard another loud 
 voice shouting : ' Halt, Normans ! Halt ye must, 
 
THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE 211 
 
 but ye shall not get back to Cam-bridge unless ye can 
 swim the ditch.' 
 
 It seemed as though some hollow willow-trees had 
 spoken, for neither in front nor rear was there a man 
 seen. But presently the loud voices spoke again, and 
 a still louder voice was heard about mid-Avay between 
 the two, and all the three voices cried : ' Saxons, your 
 bow-strings to your ears, and next a charge for 
 England and Lord Hereward ! ' 
 
 As soon as these words were heard in the centre, 
 the Saxon serfs, whom the Normans had impressed, 
 threw the provisions and stores they carried right 
 across the broader ditches ; threw down the hurdles 
 and beams and timber on the road, and then, with a 
 wild yell, rushed into the water and swam across to 
 the covering of the trees. But in the centre those 
 trees were all alive before these men reached them, 
 and no sooner were they seen to be safe than a rush 
 was made towards the ground which they had aban- 
 doned. All fen-men swim, but to make their passage 
 the quicker light bridges were laid across the ditches, 
 and moving from the right-hand side of the road and 
 from the left-hand side two bodies of Saxons, well- 
 armed with bows and billhooks, established themselves 
 on the causeway just where Eustache's long line was 
 broken. In vain did the Normans nearest to it think 
 of closing up that fatal gap ; the Saxon serfs had so 
 thrown about their timber on the road that they could 
 not cross it without falling or stumbling. The Saxons, 
 who had just got into the gap, making themselves 
 shields of the hurdles, fought fiercely with bill and bow, 
 and their comrades behind the willow-trees smote the 
 thin Norman lines on both sides with their arrows. 
 Eustache of Ambleville, without seeing or knowing 
 that his army was cut in twain, went charging along 
 
212 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the causeway with his van, the Saxon arrows rattling 
 on their steel jackets all the while ; for here, as in the 
 centre and rear, every tree that grew on either side the 
 road covered some Saxon bowman. But shoi't was 
 Eustache's career, for he found the causeway cut away 
 before his horse's feet, and a trench, much bi'oader 
 than any horse could leap, cut across from ditch to 
 ditch ; and beyond this trench was a good barricade 
 formed of felled trees, after the fashion used by that 
 true Saxon the late Lord Abbat of Saint Albans : and 
 from behind that breastwork and across the trench 
 there came such a flight of arrows and spears and 
 javelins, and other missiles, that neither Eustache nor 
 any of his people could stand it. Then the trumpet in 
 the van sounded the retreat. The Norman knight, 
 commanding in the rear, had sounded the retreat 
 before this, and finding that he could not force his way 
 forward, he had begun to retrace his steps towards 
 Cam-bridge Castle ; but this rearward knight had not 
 gone further in arrear than Eustache had careered in 
 advance ere he found the road broken, and a barricade 
 of freshly cut willow-ti-ees laid across it with bowmen 
 and bilhiaen behind it. Horsemen and archers being 
 mixed, as in the van, the rear turned back again along 
 the causeway, as if determined to drive the Saxons 
 from off the road and so unite themselves with the van 
 from which they were severed ; and thus van and rear 
 were moving in opposite directions — were rushing to 
 meet and hustle against each other on that narrow 
 way, even as waves beat against waves in a mighty 
 storm. Their meeting would have been very fatal ; 
 but they could not meet at all, for the Saxons that had 
 made the great gap had been reinforced from either 
 side ; they had made barricades of the timber, and 
 they plied with their sharp archery the heads of both 
 
THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE 213 
 
 the Norman columns, while other Saxons assailed those 
 columns on their flanks, and still another band, throwing 
 a flying-bridge over the chasm, where Eustache had 
 been made to halt, and turn back, charged along the 
 causcAvay, still shouting, ' Hereward for England ! 
 Pikes, strike home, for the Lord of Brunn sees ye ! ' 
 
 And foremost of all those pikes was the Lord Here- 
 ward himself, who shouted more than once, ' Stop, 
 Eustache ! Run not so fast, Eustache of Ambleville ! 
 This is not the way to the Camp of Refuge ! ' 
 
 Broken, confused beyond all precedent of confusion, 
 disheartened, assailed on every side, and driven to de- 
 speration, the Normans began to leap from the fatal 
 narrow causeway into the ditches, where many of the 
 heavily-armed men and divers knights were drowned. 
 Some suiTendered to Lord Hereward on the road, and 
 were admitted to quarter. Others were killed in 
 heaps ; and the rest, succeeding in crossing the ditches, 
 and in getting through the willow groves, ran for their 
 lives across the open country towards Cam-bridge. 
 Dry as the season was, there were still many bogs and 
 morasses in those plains, and into these many of the 
 panic-stricken fugitives ran and sank up to their necks. 
 As Girolamo, the Salernitan, led one of the parties of 
 Saxons in pursuit, he muttered to himself in his own 
 tongue, 'Those Normans in English bogs look like to 
 Mariuses in the marshes of Minturnum ! ' Those were 
 the most fortunate that sank where the sedges grew 
 thick, or the bulrushes concealed them. Those who 
 showed their heads above the bog were for the most 
 part slain by spears or arrows. Li all, not one-third of 
 the force, which Sir Eustache had led forth a few 
 hours before with so much pride and confidence, got 
 back alive to the camp and castle at Cam-bridge : all 
 the horses had been drowned or sufibcated, or wounded. 
 
214 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and rendei-ed useless, or killed or taken. Provisions, 
 stores, and all the implements of the army had been 
 lost; and, although Eustache of Ambleville had escaped 
 with life, he had left his standard behind him in the 
 hands of the Lord Hereward, who, after this signal 
 victory, returned in triumph, and with his spolia opimci, 
 to Ely Abbey, where the monks in the choir sang Te 
 Deum Laudavms. 
 
 As for Eustache of Ambleville, he soon quitted the 
 command of the post at Cam-bridge, and cursing the 
 fen country, as a place where knights and horses 
 were of no use, he made the best haste he could back 
 to London city. For many a long day the Normans 
 left at Cam-bridge would not venture outside the walls 
 of their castle. 
 
 It boots not to tell of what became of that other 
 Norman force collected in Huntingdon for the invasion 
 of the isle of Ely. Was it not overthrown and totally 
 discomfited at Fenny Stanton } And was not this, 
 and were not other victories gained by the Saxons 
 from the Camp of Refuge, recited in the songs in 
 praise of Lord Hereward, which the Saxon people now 
 began to sing about the streets of our cities and great 
 towns, even in the hearing of their Norman oppressors? 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE TRAITOROUS MONKS OF PETERBOROUGH 
 
 But the Lord of Brunn could not be everywhere. 
 While he was gaining great victories on the southern 
 side of the Fen Country, the Normans were gaining 
 strength in the north, and were receiving the aid of 
 cowards and traitors. Brand, the uncle of Lord Here- 
 ward, and the good Lord Abbat of Peterborough, who 
 had ever laboured to keep his convent true to their 
 own saints and to their own country, was now lying by 
 the side of the abbats, his predecessors, under the 
 stone-flooring of the abbey-church ; and with him had 
 died all the English spirit of the place. The monks 
 began to murmur, for that they were called upon to 
 contribute to the sustenance of the Saxon fighting men 
 that had been left to guard their house ; and for that 
 they had been called upon to send some small matter 
 of gold and silver for the use of the brave Saxons that 
 were maintaining the liberties of England in the Camp 
 of Refuge. Having, by their own representations and 
 entreaties, brought about the removal of nearly every 
 bowman and billman that Hereward had left behind 
 him, these monks next began to turn up their eyes, 
 and say that they had no armed strength wherewith 
 to withstand the Normans, and that therefore it were 
 better to make terms with Ivo Taille-Bois, and cease 
 all connection and correspondence with the Lord of 
 
216 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Brunn and that faction. But happily even at Peter- 
 borough, when the good Abbat Brand was dead, not 
 all the monks were traitorous. Some of them made 
 haste to inform their late abbat's nephew, and the 
 hope and stay of England, of what was passing ; and 
 the Lord Hereward made haste to apply some remedy 
 to this foul disorder. 
 
 Great had been the wrath excited among the Nor- 
 mans by that last great act of Abbat Brand's life — the 
 Saxon knighthood of Lord Hereward. Duke William 
 had sworn by the splendour of God that the abbat 
 should rue the day on which he had given his benedic- 
 tion to the sword of a rebel ; but a greater than kings 
 had saved good Brand from this kingly fury. When 
 he knew that he was dead, William named as his 
 successor that terrible Norman, the Abbat Torauld of 
 Fescamp, who always wore a coat of mail under his 
 rochet, and who wielded the sword and battle-axe 
 much oftener or much more willingly than he carried 
 the crosier. This terrible Torauld had been wont to 
 govern his monks even in foreign parts as captains 
 govern their turbulent soldiery ; and whenever any 
 opposition was offered to him, it was his custom to cry, 
 ' Come hither, my men-at-arms ! ' and upon men-at- 
 arms he always depended for the enforcing of his 
 ecclesiastical discipline. Where he ruled there were 
 few penances except such as were inflicted with his 
 own hand ; for he was a very choleric man, and would 
 smite his monks and novices over their fleshiest parts 
 with the flat of his heavy sword, and tweak their noses 
 with his sharp steel gloves, and strike them over their 
 shaven crowns with his batoon. Terrible as a man, 
 and still more terrible as an abbat, was this same 
 Torauld of Fescamp. Monks crossed themselves, and 
 said Libera nos, whenever his name was mentioned. 
 
THE TRAITOROUS MONKS 217 
 
 Now Duke William told this terrible Torauld that 
 as Peterborough was so near to the turbulent fen 
 country, and so little removed from the Camj) of 
 Refuge, it was a place well suited to an abbat who was 
 so good a soldier, and that a soldier rather than an 
 abbat was wanted to preside over that abbey. And 
 Torauld was further told, by Ivo Taille-Bois, who was 
 roaring, like a bear bereft of her cub, for the loss of 
 the manor-house at Spalding, that on arriving at Peter- 
 borough he must take good care to disinter the Abbat 
 Brand, and throw his body upon the dung heap ; that 
 he must well scourge the monks for their past con- 
 tumacy, and make a quick clutch at such treasure as 
 might yet remain within the house, seeing that the 
 Norman troops Avere greatly distressed by reason of 
 their poverty, and that, notably, he, the Vicomte of 
 Spalding, had not a denier. 
 
 'Factum est,' said Torauld, 'consider all this as 
 done.' 
 
 And in order that it might be done the more easily, 
 Ivo Taille-Bois superadded one hundred and forty 
 men to those that the fighting abbat brought with 
 him, thus making Torauld's whole force consist of 
 one hundred and sixty well-armed Frenchmen. At 
 the head of this little army, with sword girded round 
 his middle and with battle-axe tied to his saddle-bow, 
 the monk of Fescamp began his march from Stamford 
 Town. As soon as the disloyal monks heard that he 
 was coming, they drove away by main force the very 
 few Saxon soldiers that remained about the house, 
 and began to prepare sackcloth and ashes for them- 
 selves, and a sumptuous feast for the Abbat Torauld, 
 hoping thereby to conciliate him, and make him 
 forget the bold doings of my Lord Abbat Brand. 
 
 But before that uncanonical abbat and his men-at 
 
218 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 arms could get half way to Peterborough, the Lord 
 Hereward, who had been duly apprised of all these 
 late proceedings and intentions, arrived at the abbey 
 with Elfric his sword-bearer, and about three-score 
 fighting men ; and before the monks could make fast 
 their gates he was within the house. There be some 
 who do say that the entrance was not got without a 
 fight, and that some of my Lord HereAvard's people 
 set fire to a part of the monastery ; but I ween there 
 was no fighting or beating of monks until Torauld, 
 that very stern man, got possession of the house, and 
 that there was no fire until a time long after the visit 
 of the Saxons, when the monks of Peterborough, 
 being disorderly and drunken, set fire to the house 
 themselves by accident. The Lord of Brunn made 
 straight for the house which King Etheldred of 
 happy memory had built for the Lord Abbats. A build- 
 ing it was very large and stately ; all the rooms of 
 common habitation were built above-stairs, and under- 
 neath were very fair vaults, and goodly cellars for 
 sundry uses ; and the great hall above was a magni- 
 ficent room, having at the upper end, in the wall, 
 very high above the floor, three stately thrones, 
 whereon were seated the effigies of the three royal 
 founders, carved curiously in wood, and painted and 
 gilt. In this hall stood Hereward and his merry 
 men. Little did the monks wot of this visit. They 
 thought the Lord of Brunn was many a league off, 
 fighting in the fens ; and when he came among them 
 like one dropped from the clouds, and they saw in 
 his honest, plain-speaking face that he was angered, 
 the traitors began to blush, and some of them to 
 turn pale ; and when this first perturbation was over, 
 they began to welcome him in the very words of a 
 speech they had prepared for the welcoming of 
 
THE TRAITOROUS iMONKS 219 
 
 Torauld. But Hereward soon cut their speech short, 
 and asked the prior of the house what was become of 
 the twenty men he had left there for the protection 
 of the house. The prior said that the men had 
 behaved in a riotous manner, eating and drinking all 
 the day long, and had deserted and run away because 
 they had been reproved. 
 
 ' It likes me not to call a priest a liar, but this 
 is false ! ' said the Lord of Brunn ; ' thou and thy 
 French faction have driven away those honest men ; 
 and here be some of them to speak for themselves, 
 and to tell thee, O prior, how busy thou hast been 
 ever since the death of my good uncle (peace to his 
 soul !) in preparing to make terms with the French — 
 in preparing to welcome the shaven cut-throat that is 
 now a-coming to rule over this house ! ' 
 
 The men stood forward, and the loyal part of the 
 monks (alas ! that they were so few) stood forward 
 also, and told the traitors to their faces all that they 
 had been doing. The prior and the chamberlain, the 
 refectorarius and the rest of the officials then began to 
 excuse themselves on the plea of their weakness, and 
 on the plea of the great danger in which they stood. 
 
 ' You confess, then,' said Hereward, ' that you 
 cannot of yourselves defend this house and its 
 shrines.' 
 
 ' Of a surety we confess it,' said the prior ; ' nor 
 is this house to be held against the Normans even 
 with a garrison of armed men. Peterborough is not 
 Ely, good my lord ! There Saxon monks may hold 
 their own ; but here it cannot be done.' 
 
 'So ho ! ' quoth Hereward, ' this is where I would 
 have thee ! and therefore, O prior, since thou canst 
 not keep thy gilded crosses and silver vessels, thy 
 chalices and pateras, thy drapery and rich church 
 
220 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 hangings, and as all these things and all other the 
 property of this house will fall into the hands of the 
 Norman thieves if they are not removed, I will and 
 must carry them all off to Ely, where thou allowest 
 they will be in safe Saxon keeping.' 
 
 'Wouldst thou despoil the temple of the Lord? 
 Wouldst thou rob the shrines of Saxon saints ? ' said 
 the sacrist. 
 
 ' My Lord of Brunn, thou darest not do the deed,' 
 said the prior. 
 
 ' It is not for thee, false monk ! to set the limits to 
 my daring, when my conscience sanctions that which 
 I am doing, and when the cause of my country urges 
 it to be done,' said Hereward. 
 
 'I will excommunicate thee as a sacrilegious 
 robber,' said the prior. 
 
 ' Archbishop Stigand, the true primate of England, 
 will excommunicate thee as a traitor to his country 
 and traitor to his Church,' quoth the Lord of Brunn. 
 'But I have little time to waste in words. Come, 
 my merry men, be stirring ! pack up all the plate, and 
 all the hangings, and everything that we can carry 
 with us.' 
 
 ' They shall not have the keys,' said the chamber- 
 lain or treasurer of the house. 
 
 'We have them already,' quoth Elfric, who had 
 been led to the chamberlain's cell by one of the true 
 Saxon monks. 'We have the keys already, and so 
 have we the engraven seals of silver gilt. The sigillum 
 of so good a man as Abbat Brand shall never be used 
 by so bad a man as Torauld. See ! here it is, my lord ! ' 
 And so saying Elfric handed the good massive seal to 
 his master, who kissed it as though it had been a relic, 
 and then put it in his bosom. 
 
 'This is sacrilege! This is the worst of thefts,' 
 
THE TRAITOROUS MONKS 221 
 
 roared the prior. 'This is done in the teeth of the 
 law, and in outrage of the gospel. Sinful young man^ 
 knowest thou not the old Saxon law which saith : 
 Sevenfold are the gifts of the Holy Spirit to the 
 Churchj and seven are the degrees of ecclesiastical 
 states and holy orders, and seven times should God's 
 servants praise God daily in church, and it is very 
 rightly incumbent on all God's friends that they love 
 and venerate God's Church, and in grith and frith hold 
 God's servants; and let him who injures them, by 
 word or work, earnestly make reparation with a seven- 
 fold bot, if he will merit of God's mercy, because holi- 
 ness, and orders, and God's hallowed houses, ai-e for 
 awe of God, ever to be earnestly venerated ? ' 
 
 ' I know that good Saxon law,' said Hereward, 'and 
 bow my head in reverence to it ! I earnestly venerate 
 this hallowed house and all houses that be hallowed, 
 and all the shrines that belong to them. I do not I'ob, 
 but only remove to safe keeping what others would 
 rob ; and, for any mischief that may be done to the 
 goods of this house by such removal, I will myself 
 make bot, not seven but seventy-fold, whenever 
 England shall be fx'ee, and Harold restored to his 
 throne.' 
 
 ' Dreams ! ' said the prior — ' thy King Harold lies 
 six feet deep in Waltham clay ! ' 
 
 ' Unmannered priest, thou liest in thy throat for 
 saying so ! King Harold is alive, is safe in some 
 foreign land, and at his own good time Avill be back to 
 claim his own. But come he back or come he not 
 back, the Normans shall not have the spoil of this 
 house. Thoy have spoiled too many hallowed houses 
 already ! Look at Saint Albans ! Look at Saint 
 Edmund's-bury ! and at York and Durham and Lin- 
 disfarn, and all other places, and tell me how they 
 
222 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 have respected Saxon saints and the property con- 
 secrate of our monasteries ! ' 
 
 ' Leave that to us/ said the chamberlain. 
 
 'I tell thee again I will leave nought for the Nor- 
 mans !' quoth Lord Hereward. 
 
 And while he was speaking, his mei*ry men all, aided 
 and assisted by the honest monks, who revered the 
 memory of Abbat Brand, were packing ; and before the 
 prior could finish a maledicite which he began, all the 
 gold and silver, all the linen and silks and embroidered 
 hangings, and all the effigies of the Saxon saints, and 
 all the silver-gilded plates from their shrines, were care- 
 fully made up into divers parcels, for facility of carriage, 
 and the relics of the saints were packed up in coffers. 
 Ywere, an un-Saxon monk of the house, had succeeded 
 in concealing the testaments, mass-hackles, cantel- 
 copes, and such other small things, which he after- 
 wards laid at the feet of the French abbat ; but Here- 
 ward's people had gotten all the things of great value : 
 they had climbed up to the holy rood, and had taken 
 away the diadem from our Lord's head, all of pure 
 gold, and had seized the bracket that was underneath 
 His feet, which was all of red-gold : they had climbed 
 up the campanile, or belfry, and had brought down a 
 table that was hid there, all gold and silver ; they had 
 seized two shrines of gold and nine reliquaries of 
 silver, and fifteen large crucifixes of gold and of silver ; 
 and, altogether, they had so many treasures in money, 
 in raiment and in books, as no man could tell another. 
 
 The prior now snivelled and said, ' Lord Hereward, 
 my Lord of Brunn, wilt thou then leave us nothing to 
 attract pilgiums to our shrines ? Thou mightest as 
 well carry off the house and the church as carry these 
 things away with thee ! ' 
 
 ' Our house will be discredited and we shall starve ! ' 
 
THE TRAITOROUS MONKS 223 
 
 said the sacrist. ' Lord of Brunn, leave us at least the 
 bones of our saints ! ' 
 
 'Once more/ said Hereward, 'once more and for 
 the last time I tell ye all that I will leave to the 
 Norman spoilers and oppressors nought that I can 
 carry. If I could carry away the house and the church 
 and the altars, by Saint Ovin and his cross, by Saint 
 VVithburga and her blessed and ever-flowing well, I 
 would do it ! — but only to bring them back again when 
 this storm shall be passed, and when every true Saxon 
 shall get his own,' 
 
 Then turning to Elfric, Hereward said, ' Where is 
 the sacrist's register of all these effects and pro- 
 perties ? ' 
 
 Elfric handed a very long scroll of parchment to 
 his lord. This parchment had been placed in the 
 hands of Elfric by the sub-sacrist, one of the honest 
 party, and the parchment contained, in good Saxon 
 writing, a list of the treasures, even as they had been 
 left on the day of the death of the good Abbat Brand. 
 
 ' Now write me at the bottom of this scroll a receipt 
 and declaration,' said the Lord of Brunn to the sub- 
 sacrist. ' Say that I, Hereward the Saxon, have taken 
 away with me into the Isle of Ely, and unto that 
 hallowed house of the true Saxon Abbat Lord 
 Thurstan, all the things above enumerated. Say that 
 I have removed them only in order to save them from 
 the thievish hands of the Normans, or only to prevent 
 their being turned against ourselves— say that I swear 
 by all my hopes of life eternal to do my best to restore 
 them uninjured so soon as the Normans are driven out 
 of England ; and say that I will make bot for every 
 loss and for every injury. Mortal man can do no more 
 than this.' 
 
 The sub-sacrist, maugre the threats and maledictions 
 
224 T H E C A M P O F R E F U G E 
 
 of his superior the sacrist, and of the prior and re- 
 fectorariiis, and all the iijiper officials, quickly engrossed 
 on the parchment all that the Lord of Brunn wanted ; 
 and Hereward, being himself a scholar and penman, 
 signed it with his name. Next he called for signatures 
 of witnesses. Girolamo of Salerno wrote a sic sub- 
 scrihitur, and wrote his signature, and Elfric, who had 
 improved as much in learning as in the art of war, did 
 the same. Some others made the sign of the cross 
 opposite to their names that were written for them ; 
 but upon the whole it"was a good receipt, and solemn 
 and well Avitnessed. The Lord of Brunn handed the 
 parchment to the prior, bidding him to take care of 
 it, and show it to his new abbat Toi'auld as soon as 
 that Frenchman should arrive Avith his one hundred 
 and sixty men-at-arms ; but the prior cast the parch- 
 ment upon the ground, saying that the house was 
 impiously spoiled — that nothing would ever be gotten 
 back again — that nothing was left in the house but 
 woe, nakedness, and tribulation. 
 
 ' O prior ! ' said Hereward, and he smiled as he 
 said it ; ' O untrue and un-Saxon prior ! the savoury 
 odours that come upwards from thy kitchen tell me 
 that there is something more than this. By Saint 
 Ovin ! it is not Torauld of Fescamp and his men-at- 
 arms that shall eat this thy feast ! Elfric, see those 
 viands served up in the refectory, and we will eat 
 them all, be they cooked or uncooked, done or under- 
 done.' 
 
 ' My Lord,' responded Elfric, ' the roast meats be 
 done to a turn, the boiled meats and the stewed 
 meats, and fowl and fish be all ready. The cook of 
 this house of Peterborough, being no caterer for 
 Normans, but a Saxon true, and one that hath owed 
 his promotion to thine uncle, of happy memory, the 
 
THE TRAITOROUS MONKS 225 
 
 Abbat Brand, hath seen to all these things, and hath 
 advanced the good dinner by an hour or twain.' 
 
 'Then for love of mine uncle's nephew, let him 
 dish up as quickly as may be ! Elfric, what say thy 
 scouts ? Where be the Frenchmen now ? ' 
 
 ' Good ten miles off, my lord ; so do not over-hurry 
 the meal.' 
 
 ' Prior, sacrist, chamberlain, traitors all ! ' said Lord 
 Hereward, 'will ye do penance with us in eating of 
 this feast which ye had prepared for Norman stomachs?' 
 
 ' The wrath of the Lord will overtake thee for this 
 ribaldry ! O Hereward of Brunn, we will not break 
 bread with thee, nor sit at the table with such as 
 thou art.' 
 
 ' Then stay here where ye are, and munch your dry 
 bread to the odour of our roast meats,' said the young 
 Lord of Brunn. 
 
 And so, leaving the false monks under guard of 
 some of his merry men, Hereward with the true 
 monks went straight to the refectory and fared sump- 
 tuously ; and then, like the bounteous lord that he 
 was, he made all his followers, of whatsoever degree, 
 eat, drink, and be merry ; and so heartily did these 
 true Saxons eat and drink, that of that same feast 
 they left nothing behind them for Torauld of Fescamp 
 and his hungry Normans. And when it was time to 
 get gone, and they could drink no more, Elfric and 
 the sub-sacrist went down to the cellars and set every 
 cask running, to the end that there should not be a 
 drop of wine or a drop of ale or a drop of mead to cool 
 the throats of the disapj)ointed Frenchmen. 
 
 Then the Lord of Brunn and his merry men all took 
 their departure from the abbey of Peterborough, 
 taking with them the chalices and pateras, the crosses 
 and candelabra, the shrine-plates and the reliquaries. 
 
226 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the diadems and the tables, the linens, the silks, and 
 hangings, and everything that was worth taking, and 
 everything that Torauld of Fescamp and his men-at- 
 arms most wanted to find and seize. And thus did 
 the great house of Petei'borough cease to be called 
 the rich and begin to be called miserably poor : de 
 aurea erat pauperrima. 
 
 Judge ye the wrath of that terrible false French 
 abbat when he came to the house at Peterborough, 
 and heard and likewise saw all that had been done ! 
 First he pulled at his own hair, and next he snatched 
 at the prior's head and tore his hair away by handfuls. 
 He would not believe one jot of the tale that was told 
 him about Hereward's forcible entry and seizures ; he 
 would believe nothing but that they were all in 
 league with the rebels and robbers of the fens, even 
 as they had been when Abbat Brand blessed the 
 sword of Hereward and made him knight, and took 
 into his house a garrison of armed Saxons. The more 
 they protested and vowed, the more he disbelieved 
 them ; and this first conference between these untrue 
 Saxon monks and their choleric Norman abbat ended 
 in Torauld' s shouting : 
 
 ' Come hither, my men-at-arms, and fustigate these 
 liars ! ' 
 
 And while the men-at-arms beat the commoner 
 monks and the lay-brothers of the house, Torauld 
 himself tweaked the noses of the superiors with his 
 gauntleted hand, and drawing his heavy sword, he 
 applied the flat of it to the prior, the sacrist, the 
 chamberlain, the refcctorarius, and all the rest of the 
 officials, beating them all even as he used to belabour 
 his monks and novices in Normandie. But the true 
 English members of the house did not share in this 
 pain and humiliation, for the sub-sacrist and every one 
 
THE TRAITOROUS MONKS 227 
 
 of them that was a good Saxon had gone off with Lord 
 Hereward more than an hour before. When he grew 
 tired of this, his first hard lesson in ecclesiastical 
 discipline, Torauld caused the prior and the sacrist 
 and every monk that had stayed behind, to be thrown 
 into the dungeon of the house, and there he kept 
 them two days and two nights without food and drink. 
 
 Some few of the new Lord Abbat of Peterborough's 
 men-at-arms thought that instead of fustigating the 
 English monks, they ought to have followed Hereward 
 and the English soldiers, and have made an effort to 
 recover the good things they had carried off; but 
 Torauld, who was bold only where there was no chance 
 of resistance, would not venture a pursuit after an 
 alert and most daring enemy into a difficult country ; 
 and so he swore to his people that the Saxon robbers 
 must have been gone, not one, but more than three 
 hours before his arrival ; that instead of counting- 
 sixty men, they were six hundred strong at the very 
 least. Whether they were sixty or six hundred, none 
 of the men-at-arms who knew anything concerning 
 the fenny country were at all eager for the pursuit, 
 albeit they all imagined that the treasure which Lord 
 Hereward had carried off with him from the abbey 
 was great enough to pay for a king's ransom. 
 
 Thus the new Norman Abbat and his unpriestly 
 and ungodly men entered upon possession of the 
 ancient abbey of Peterborough : but feast that day 
 was there none. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 HEREWARD GOES TO BRUNN, AND IS DISTURBED THERE 
 
 From Peterborough the Lord of Bruiin made one good 
 march across the fen country to Crowland, where he 
 sahited the good Abbat and brotherhood, who had put 
 their house into excellent order. And having tarried 
 for a short season with the trusty monks of Crowland, 
 he went down the river Welland unto Spalding, where 
 he embarked the treasure which he had taken, and 
 sent Girolamo of Salerno to have charge of it and see 
 it safely delivered to the Lord Abbat of Ely. Having 
 done all this, and having seen that the river Welland 
 and the country about Crowland and Spalding were 
 well guarded, Hereward went across the country to 
 Brunn to visit his fair wife, whom he had not seen 
 since the quinzane of Pasche. Elfric went with 
 him, and in this manner there were two happy 
 meetings. The old manor-house at Brunn had been 
 beautified as well as strengthened under the eye of 
 the Ladie Alftrude ; and the old township, being 
 ridded of the Normans, was beginning to look peaceful 
 and prosperous as it used to do in the happy times of 
 the good Lord Leofric of blessed memory. The un- 
 thinking people were already forgetting their past 
 troubles, and beginning to imagine that there would 
 be no troubles for the future, or that, come what 
 might, the Normans would never get footing again in 
 
 22S 
 
HE RE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 229 
 
 the fen country. Elfric was not an unthinking young 
 man, but his love for Maid Mildred caused him to 
 take up the notion of the townfolk. He thought he 
 might soon turn his sword into a reaping-hook, and 
 that it was already time for keeping the promise 
 which his master had made to him. Mildred said 
 nay, nay, but in a manner which sounded very like 
 yea, yea. 
 
 Lord Hereward said, 'Wait awhile; ye are both 
 young, and this war is not over. Beyond the fens the 
 Normans are still triumphant, and the Saxons con- 
 founded and submissive. Elfric, there is work to do, 
 and short is the time that I can abide here.' 
 
 The ex-novice quietly submitted himself to the will 
 of his lord ; and for a short season he led a very easy, 
 happy life, hawking or fishing in the morning, with 
 Hereward and the ladie, and rambling in the eve with 
 Mildred in the wood which lay near the house. One 
 fine summer eve, about fifteen days after their coming 
 to Brunn, Elfric and Mildred went rather further into 
 the wood than it had been usual for them to go ; and 
 reaching the bank of a clear little stream, they sat 
 down among the tall rushes, and after talking and 
 laughing for awhile they became reflective and silent, 
 and gazed at the stream as it glided by, all gilded and 
 enamelled by the setting sun. They had not sate 
 thus long when Elfric was startled by some distant 
 sound, which did not reach the ear of Mildred, for 
 when he said, ' What noise is that ? ' she said she 
 heard none. But Elfric was quite certain he had 
 heard a noise afar off', and a sound of a rustling among 
 the willows and fen-trees. 
 
 'Well,' said Mildred, 'it will be the evening breeze, 
 or the fen-sparrows, or mayhap the marsh-tits tapping 
 the old willow-trees to hollow out their nests.' 
 
230 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 * There breathes not a breath of air, and this is not 
 the season in which the marsh-tit makes its nest in 
 the old willows/ said Elfric. ' But, hark ! I hear the 
 sound again, and . . , Ah ! what is that ? . . . By 
 St, Ovin's cross ! I see afar off a something shining in 
 the red sunbeams that looks like the head of a Norman 
 lance ! See ! look there, behind those trees at the 
 foot of yon hillock ! ' 
 
 The maiden looked, and although at first she saw 
 nothing, she soon turned pale, and said : 
 
 ' In truth, Elfric, I see a spear, and another, and 
 now another. But now they move not ! they dis- 
 appear.' 
 
 'Mildred,' said the young man, 'run back to the 
 manor-house with thy best speed, and tell Lord 
 Hereward what thou hast seen ! ' 
 
 'But wilt thou not go with me? I almost fear to 
 go alone through the wood.' 
 
 ' The path is straight and dry,' said Elfric ; ' there 
 is no danger; but I must go forward and discover 
 what be these new comers, who are coming so stealthily 
 towards the wood and the manor-house, and who 
 bring lances with them and sound no horn.' 
 
 ' But there will be peril for thee, O Elfric, unarmed 
 and all alone as thou art.' 
 
 'Fear not for that, my Mildred; I will crawl 
 through the rushes and keep this winding stream 
 between me and these strangers. But fly to the 
 house, and if thou chancest to meet any of Lord 
 Hereward's people, bid them hasten home and look 
 to their arms.' 
 
 ' Alas ! ' quoth Mildred, ' when will this fighting 
 be over ? ' and having so said, she flew like a lapwing 
 towards the house, while Elfric disappeared among 
 the sedges and buh-ushes. 
 
HERE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 231 
 
 ' Lances so near the wood ! ' said Hereward, ' and 
 no notice given ! Our guard at Edenham must have 
 fallen asleep ! ' 
 
 'Or mayhap they be gone to Corby,' said Mildred, 
 ' for to-day is Corby wake.' 
 
 'Or it may be,' said Hereward, 'that thou and 
 Elfric are both mistaken — albeit his good eyes are 
 not apt to deceive him.' 
 
 Before the Lord of Brunn had time to assemble 
 his people, Elfric was back to speak for himself, and 
 to give more certain and full notice of what was 
 toward. He had gone near enough not only to see, 
 but also to hear. The force was a great Norman force 
 led on by Ivo Taille-Bois and Torauld of Fescamp, 
 who hoped to take Hereward by surprise, and to 
 recover from him the treasure which he had seized at 
 Peterborough ; for, being robbers themselves, they 
 made sure that he meant to keep the treasure for 
 himself. 
 
 ' What be their numbers .'' ' said the Lord of Brunn. 
 
 'Two hundred men-at-arms/ responded Elfric. 
 
 ' Bring they any of their great siege-tools .'' ' asked 
 Hereward. 
 
 ' None, my Lord. They carry nothing but their 
 arms, and even with that burthen they seem sorely 
 fatigued. They are covered with our fen mud, and 
 are all swearing that they should have been forced to 
 travel without their horses.' 
 
 'Then,' said Hereward, 'although Girolamo be 
 away, we can hold good this house and laugh at their 
 attempt to take it. Call in all the good folk of the 
 township, and then up drawbridge, and make fast 
 gates ! ' 
 
 ' Under subjection, my Lord,' quoth Elfric, ' I will 
 say that I think that we can do better than shut 
 
232 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ourselves up in the house to wait for their coming. 
 I heard their plan of approach, and it is this : They 
 are all to remain concealed where they are until it be 
 dark. Then Ivo Taille-Bois is to march through the 
 wood, and surround the house with one hundred men, 
 while that bull-headed Torauld, who seemeth not to 
 relish the fighting with soldiers so much as he doth 
 the fighting with unarmed monks, is to lodge himself 
 with the other hundred men on the skirts of the wood, 
 so as to prevent the people of the township from 
 coming to the manor-house.' 
 
 ' Art thou sure,' said Hereward, ' that thou knowest 
 Norman-French enough to make out all this sense 
 from their words .'' ' 
 
 ' Quite certain, my Lord. I was close to them, 
 and they talked loud, as is their wont. Nay, they 
 talked even louder than common, being angered, and 
 Ivo Taille saying that as it was Church business the 
 churchmen ought to go foremost ; and Torauld saying 
 that Ivo did not enough respect the lives and limbs 
 of Norman prelates. Set me down this Torauld for 
 a rank coward ! They told me at Peterborough that 
 he was as big as a bull, and for that much so he is ; 
 but from my hiding-place in the rushes I could see 
 that he quaked and turned pale at the thought of 
 leading the attack.' 
 
 ' Thou wast ever a good scout,' said the Lord of 
 Brunn, ' but a wary commander never trusts to one 
 report. We have lads here that know the paths and 
 the bye-paths. We will have these Normans watched 
 as it grows dark.' 
 
 In the meantime all the good people of the town- 
 ship were forewarned, and called to the manor-house. 
 The aged, with the women and children, were to 
 stay within those strong walls ; but all the rest were 
 
HERE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 233 
 
 armedj and kept in readiness to sally forth. Of the 
 sixty merry men that had stolen the march upon 
 Torauld and got to Peterborough before him, some 
 had been left at Crowland and some at Spalding, and 
 some had taken up their long stilts and had walked 
 across the bogs to see their kindred and friends in 
 Hollandia. Only one score and ten of these tried 
 soldiers remained ; the good men of the township of 
 Brunn that put on harness and were ready to fight, 
 made more than another score ; and besides these 
 there was about half a score of hardy hinds who had 
 followed the Ladie Alftrude from her home. 
 
 As it grew dark the scouts reported that the Nor- 
 mans were in motion, and that they were moving in 
 two separate bodies, even as Elfric reported they 
 would do. Then the Lord of Brunn went himself to 
 watch their movements. He made out, more by his 
 ears than by his eyes, that one body was coming 
 straight on for the wood and the house, and that the 
 other body was turning round the wood by a path 
 which would bring them to a little bridge near the 
 edge of the wood, this bridge being between the town- 
 ship and the manor-house. By his own prudent 
 order, lights had been left burning in one or two of 
 the better sort of houses, and the whole town thus 
 looked as it usually did at that hour ; while bright 
 lights beamed from every window of the manor-house, 
 to make Ivo Taille-Bois believe that the Lord of Brunn 
 was feasting and carousing and wholly off his guard, 
 
 ' Thus far, well ! ' thought Hereward, as he ran 
 back to the house. ' It will take these heavy Nor- 
 mans a good length of time to cross the stream and 
 get into the wood ; and while Ivo is coming into the 
 wood on the one side, I will go out of it on the other 
 side, and catch this bully monk and his j)eople as in 
 
234 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 a trap. And Taille-Bois shall rue the day that he 
 turned his face towards Brunn.' 
 
 Leaving half a score of his best men in the house, 
 and commanding all that were in the house to be 
 silent and without fear, the Lord of Brunn sallied 
 forth with all the rest of his merry men ; and as 
 soon as he and they were beyond the moat, the little 
 garrison drew up the drawbridge and made fast the 
 gate. When he counted his troop, he found it to be 
 not more than fifty strong; but every man of them 
 was vigorous and well equipped ; and there was truth 
 in the Saxon song which said that every true Saxon 
 in arms was equal to three Frenchmen, and that the 
 Lord of Brunn never turned his back even upon six 
 Frenchmen. Warned by Elfric, that best of all 
 scouts, when Ivo was crossing the stream, and calcu- 
 lating his own time to a nicety, Hereward marched 
 through a corner of the wood and took post on some 
 broken ground near the end of the little bridge. His 
 people were all as silent as the grave, and so they 
 continued ; nor could they be seen any more than 
 they could be heard, for they lay in the hollows of 
 the ground with their faces prone to the earth, and 
 their bows and weapons under them : and the night 
 was now rather dark, and the trees which grew close 
 behind the broken ground cast a deep shadow over 
 it. The Saxons had not been long in this, their 
 ambuscade, when they heard a loud shouting of 'A 
 Taille-Bois ! A Taille-Bois ! ' which came from the 
 side of the manor-house ; and the next instant they 
 heard another loud shouting in their front of ' Torauld ! 
 Torauld ! ' 
 
 'So so!' said Hereward, 'the twain have timed 
 their marches well ! The monk will be here anon ; 
 but let every Saxon among us remain on his face 
 
HE REWARD GOES TO BRUNN 235 
 
 until he cross the narrow bridge, and then up and 
 fall on ! ' 
 
 And as the Lord of Brunn said, so was it done. 
 Eager to get possession of the bridge, the monk from 
 Fescamp avoided the little township, and came straight 
 to the stream whicli flowed between it and the manor- 
 house, and crossed over the bridge with all his people : 
 and uo sooner were they all over than the Saxons 
 started up like armed men springing from the bowels 
 of the earth, and shouting * Hereward for Eng- 
 land ! ' they fell upon their amazed and confounded 
 enemy, who could neither discover their strength, nor 
 form themselves into any order of battle. Instanter 
 some of the Normans screamed that these were the 
 devils of Crowland risen again ; and so, screaming, 
 they made a rush back to the bridge. Now the 
 bridge was very narrow, and walled on either side 
 with a parapet wall of brickwork ; and when the 
 whole of Torauld's force began to follow the first 
 fuyards, with a mad rushing and confusion, they got 
 jammed together upon that narrow bridge, or falling 
 one over the other they obstructed the passage. 
 Torauld, that big monk, could not get upon the 
 bridge at all, or near to it. And as he stood crowded 
 and squeezed by his disordered men, and heard the 
 Saxon battle-axe ringing upon their mailed armour 
 and plated shields, he set up his big voice and cried, 
 ' Quarter ! Quarter ! Mercy, O Lord of Brunn ! ' 
 
 * Dost thou surrender, Torauld of Fescamp ? ' shouted 
 Hereward. 
 
 ' Ay, and at thy discretion,' said the terrible abbat, 
 no longer terrible. 
 
 ' Normans, do ye all surrender upon quarter .^ ' 
 shouted Hereward, who had already slain three of 
 them with his own hand. 
 
236 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 The Normans, not even excepting those on the 
 bridge, or even those five or six that had gotten 
 beyond the bridge, all declared that they surrendered 
 at discretion. 
 
 'Then,' quoth the Lord of Brunn, 'hand me your 
 swords, and come hither and lay down all your arms ! ' 
 
 And, in that grim darkness, Torauld, and the several 
 leaders of the band, stretched out their hands and 
 delivered up their swords to Hereward ; and Hereward 
 as he got them, handed them to his sword-bearer, and 
 Elfric made a bundle of them all under his left arm, 
 singing, as he had wont to do in the choir at Spalding, 
 but with a louder note, ' Injixce sunt genies ! — The 
 heathen are sunk down in the pit that they made : in 
 the net which they hid is their own foot taken ! ' And 
 all the Norman men-at-arms, seeing but dimly what 
 they were doing, and taking the trees on the skirts of 
 the wood for Saxon warriors, piled their arms in a 
 trice, and allowed themselves to be bound with their 
 own girdles and baldrics. When Hereward's people 
 proceeded to bind Torauld, that tamed monster made 
 a miserable lamentation, for he thought that the Saxons 
 would bind him first, and then slay him; and none 
 knew better than himself the intolerable wrongs he 
 had done since his first coming to the kingdom, and 
 the outrages he had been guilty of in the monasteries 
 and churches of England. But Elfric bade him bellow 
 not so miserably, and told him how that it was the 
 custom of the Lord of Brunn not to slay his prisoners, 
 but only to send them to a place of safe keeping, such 
 as the Camp of Refuge, or the strong vault under Ely 
 Abbey. And when the Normans were all bound, 
 Hereward made his sword-bearer count them all ; and 
 Elfric, groping among them as the shepherd does 
 among his sheep when the night is dark, found and 
 
HERE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 237 
 
 reported that there were four score and ten of them. 
 The rest had been slain, or had rushed into the stream 
 to get drowned. 
 
 All this work by the bridge had not been done 
 without much noise. In making their sudden on- 
 slauglit, and in raising their shout for Hereward, the 
 Saxons had made the welkin ring ; and the cries and 
 screams of the discomfited Normans were distinctly 
 heard across the wood and at the manor-house. The 
 Saxons within that house heard both cries, and well 
 understood what they meant : Ivo Taille-Bois and his 
 men also heard them and understood them ; and so, 
 cursing Torauld the monk for a fool, Ivo halted his 
 men under cover of the trees ^ and then, after listen- 
 ing for a brief space of time, and after hearing plainer 
 than before the Norman cry of misericorde, instead of 
 attempting to surround the house, Ivo began to retrace 
 his steps through the wood. And although the night 
 was brightening up elsewhere, it continued so dark in 
 that wood, and his people ran in so great hurry, that 
 at almost every step some of them missed the narrow 
 path, or fell over the roots of the trees. And as Ivo 
 thus retreated, his ear was assailed by the taunting 
 shouts of the Saxons in the manor-house, and by the 
 triumphant shouts of those who had sallied forth with 
 Hereward to smite Torauld in the dark. 
 
 But louder and louder still were the shouts in the 
 good house of Brunn when its young Lord returned 
 unhurt (and not a man of his was hurt) with the captives 
 he had made, and notably with the once terrible Torauld. 
 
 ' Thou seest,' said Hereward, ' that thy friend Ivo 
 hath not stayed to keep his appointed meeting with 
 thee at my humble house ! but stay thou here awhile, 
 
 monk of Fescamp ! and I will even go try whether 
 
 1 can overtake Ivo, and bring him back to meet thee ! 
 
238 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 He hath the stai% but is not so good a fenner as I am. 
 So, come, my merry men all, one horn of wine apiece, 
 and then for a chase through the wood and across the 
 stream ! An we catch not the great wood-cutter, we 
 may perchance cut off part of his tail. But first lock 
 me up these prisoners in the turret. Our women and 
 old men will suffice to take care of them while we 
 follow the chase.' 
 
 The Ladie Alftrude, and sundry other persons, 
 thought and said that Lord Hereward had done 
 enough for this one night ; but the Lord of Brunn 
 thought he had never done enough when there was 
 more to do, and before Ivo Taille-Bois could get clear 
 out of the wood, Hereward was upon his track, with 
 fifty of his merry men. Some of the Normans, missing 
 the ford across the stream, were captured on the bank ; 
 but the rest got safely over, and ran for their lives 
 across the plain, whereon they never could have run at 
 all if the summer had been less hot and dry. They 
 were closely followed by the Saxons, who took a good 
 many more of them, and killed others: but Ivo was too 
 far ahead to be caught ; and it was all in vain that 
 Hereward shouted and called upon him to stop and 
 measure swords with him on dry ground, and on a ffiir 
 field. So the Lord of Brunn gave up the pursuit, and 
 returned to his manor-house, taking with him a good 
 score more prisoners. And if the louts who had been 
 sent to keep guard at Edenham had not gone to Corby 
 wake, and had not drunk themselves drunk there, Ivo 
 Taille-Bois would have been captured or killed, with 
 every man that followed him, before he could have got 
 out upon the road which leads from the fen country to 
 Stamford. The rest of that night was given to festivity 
 and joy. On the morrow morning Hereward brought 
 his Norman captives forth from the turret into the 
 
HERE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 239 
 
 great hall, and made inquest into their names and 
 qualities. There were several knights of name among 
 them ; several that had high rank and good lands in 
 Normandie before ever they came to plunder England. 
 Now these proud foreign knights condescended to 
 address the Lord of Brunn as one of the military con- 
 fraternity, and they spoke with him about ransom as 
 knight speaks to knight. Hereward, knowing well 
 how the Abbat of Ely had been constrained to lay 
 hands on that which had been offered on the shrine of 
 the saints, and to deal with unbelieving and usurious 
 Jews, and how sorely money was needed throughout 
 the Camp of Refuge, did not gainsay these overtures 
 about ransoms ; but he fixed the total ransom at so 
 high a price, that Torauld and the Norman knights all 
 vowed that they could never pay it or get their friends 
 to pay it. The Lord of Brunn, who believed them not, 
 told them that they must pay the three thousand marks 
 he had named, or live and die in the fastnesses of the 
 fen country. 
 
 Torauld, who loved money more than he loved his 
 own soul, and who never doubted but that Here- 
 ward had all the treasures he had taken from Peter- 
 borough, and meant to keep them for his own use 
 and profit, offered, as lawful superior of that house 
 and abbat appointed by King William, to give the Lord 
 of Brunn a title to all those things as the price of the 
 ransom for himself and the Norman nobles. But hereat 
 the Lord of Brunn was greatly incensed, and said : 
 
 ' Robber that thou art, dost thou take me for a 
 sacrilegious robber ? The treasure of Peterborough is 
 not here, but at Ely, in the safe keeping of the good 
 Lord Abbat Thurstan, to be kept or even used for the 
 good of England, and to be restored to Peterborough 
 with bot, and with other treasure, at the proper season. 
 
240 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 But thou, O Torauld of Fescamp, thou hast no right to 
 it, or control over it ; and if thou hadst it, it is not my 
 father's son that would barter with thee for the goods 
 of the Church and the spoils of the altar ! Torauld of 
 Fescamp, and thou Piron of Montpinchon, and thou 
 Olivier Nonant, and thou Pierre of Pommereuil, and 
 the rest of ye, I tell ye one and all, and I swear it by 
 the blessed rood, that I will never liberate ye, or any 
 of ye, until the three thousand marks, as ransom, be 
 paid into my hands, or into the hands of the Lord 
 Abbat of Ely ! So, look well to it. Three thousand 
 marks, or a lifelong home and a grave in the safest and 
 dreariest part of the fens.' 
 
 One and all, they again protested, and even vowed 
 that so large a sum could never be raised for their 
 liberation ; and that they would not so much as name 
 the sum to their friends and families. 
 
 ' Well,' said the Lord of Brunn, ' then to-morrow we 
 will clap ye all on ship-board and send ye across the 
 salt sea Wash for Ely and the Camp of Refuge.' 
 
 And on the morrow, by times, all the Norman 
 captives, gentle or simple, knights or men-at-arms, 
 were marched off to the Welland and put on board 
 ship and under hatches : nor even did they get free 
 from their Saxon prison in the fens until twelve good 
 months after their capture, when they got the money, 
 and paid down the three thousand marks, together 
 with some small jiecunia for their meat and drink, and 
 the trouble they had given during their captivity. 
 And long did Torauld bemoan the day when he 
 accepted the office of abbat of Peterborough, and went 
 to take vengeance on that house on account of Lord 
 Hereward's knighthood. He came forth from the fens 
 an altered and subdued man; and although he tyran- 
 nically ruled a religious house for many years after 
 
HERE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 241 
 
 these his misadventures, he was never more known to 
 tweak his monks by the nose with his steel gloves on, 
 or to beat them with the flat of his sword, or to call 
 out ' Come hither, my men-at-arms.' In truth, although 
 he plucked up spirit enough to rob and revile monks, 
 he never put on armour or carried a sword again. 
 
 Thus had the good Lord of Brunn triumphed on the 
 land which he inherited from his father and recovered 
 with his own sword ; thus within the good manor of 
 Brunn had he foiled the stratagems of his enemies, 
 and beaten them and humbled them, and made them 
 the captives of his sword : but he could not long remain 
 to enjoy his triumph there ; his sword and his counsel 
 were wanted in other parts; and deeming that the 
 unwonted dryness of the season might perchance 
 enable Ivo Taille-Bois or some other Norman lord to 
 make another attempt upon Brunn, he took his ladie 
 with him whither he went. A small but trusty garri- 
 son was left in the old manor-house, together with 
 sundry matrons and maids, but Mildred went with her 
 ladie, as did Elfric with his lord. 
 
 As they came to the Welland, on their way to Ely, 
 there came unto Lord Hereward some brave men from 
 the world beyond the fens, to tell him that a great 
 body of Saxon serfs had gathered together at the edge 
 of Sherwood forest and on the banks of the Trent, and 
 that all these men were ready to join him and be- 
 come his servants and soldiers. Hereward gave the 
 messengers the encouragement they seemed to merit, 
 and sent his sword-bearer back with them to see what 
 manner of men the band was made of, and to bring 
 them across the fens if he should find them worth their 
 bread and meat. 
 
 Now the men that had collected were hardy and 
 fit for war, and many of them, being native to the 
 
 Q 
 
242 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 forests and trained to hunting, were keen bowmen. 
 The Loi-d of Brunn, who knew the worth of the 
 EngHsh bow, much wanted good bowmen ; and thus 
 Elfric would gladly have brought away all these 
 foresters with him. But when the marching time 
 came, sundry of these churls said that they were well 
 where they were in Sherwood ; and for that matter 
 so they were, for the Normans could not easily get at 
 them, and they were lords of the forest and of all the 
 game in it, and they robbed all that came near to the 
 forest. But all the churls were not so churlish, nor so 
 fond of living without law and order, nor so careless 
 as to what became of their countrymen ; and many 
 were the good bowmen that said they would go to the 
 Saxon camp. Some of these upland churls, however, 
 who had not led! so free a life as the fenners, and had 
 not had such good lords as the Abbat of Ely and the 
 Lord of Brunn, began to say to the men of the hills 
 that were following Elfric, that they thought they 
 were engaging in an idle chase and a very useless 
 struggle, inasmuch as they would still be all serfs and 
 bondmen whether the Normans or the Saxons ruled 
 the land. But Elfric, hearing this, bade them all 
 remember that it was one thing to obey a lord that 
 spoke their own tongue, and another to obey a stranger 
 lord who spoke it not and despised it ; that the good 
 Saxon lords were ever merciful and kind, not putting 
 more labour on the serf than the serf could bear, and 
 feeding him and entertaining him well when sickness 
 or when old age allowed him not to work at all ; and 
 that the good old Saxon laws and customs did not 
 leave the eyes, limbs, life, and conscience of the serfs 
 in the hands of their lords and masters, nor allow 
 Christian bondmen to be treated as though they were 
 beasts of the field ; in which fashion the Normans 
 
HE REWARD GOES TO BRUNN 243 
 
 were now treating tliem. Quoth a greybeard in the 
 crowd : 
 
 ' There is some truth in what the young man saith. 
 That was not a bad law which said, " Let the churl 
 keep the fasts of the Church as well as the lord, and 
 let the master that feeds his serfs on fast-days with 
 meat, denying them bread, be put in the pillory." ' 
 
 ' Ay,' said another elder, smoothing his beard, ' but 
 that was a still better law which said, ''Let not the 
 serf be made to work on the feast-days of the Church, 
 nor to do any manner of work on the Sabbath. Let 
 all have rest on the seventh day, which is the day of 
 the Lord God ! ' 
 
 Here one who had been a mass-priest in the upland 
 country, but who had fled from the intolerable persecu- 
 tions of the Normans and was now armed against that 
 people, spoke as one that had tasted books, and said : 
 
 ' Many were our good old Saxon laws for keeping 
 holy the Sabbath-day, and making the seventh day a 
 day of rest for all that live in the land, whether ricli 
 or poor, master or slave. The fourth commandment, 
 which the Normans set at nought in as far as the poor 
 English serf is concerned in it, was a most binding 
 law with all good Saxons, and was enforced by many 
 royal laws and civil enactments, and with the imposing 
 of penalties upon all such as broke the commandment. 
 The laws and ordinances of King Edward the Elder 
 said : " If any one engage in Sunday marketing, let 
 him forfeit the goods and pay a fine of thirty shillings. 
 If a freeman work, let him forfeit his freedom, or 
 redeem it by paying wite ; if a lord oblige his churl to 
 work, let him pay wite." And, after this. King 
 Athelstane said in his dooms " that there should be 
 no marketing and no labour on Sundays, and that if 
 any one did market on Sundays he should forfeit the 
 
 //^f 
 
244 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 goods and pay thirty shillings." And, after this, 
 King Ethelred said in his dooms : " Let Sunday's 
 festival be rightly kept by all, as is becoming, and let 
 marketings and folkmotes be carefully abstained from 
 on that holy day ; let huntings and worldly works be 
 strictly abstained from on that day." And by the 
 laws of King Edgar no man was to work from noontide 
 of the Saturday till the dawn of Monday ; and soulscot 
 was to be paid for every Christian man to the priest, 
 in order that the priest might pray for him and 
 instruct him. And the canons of ^Ifric, inhibiting 
 the breach of the sanctity of the Lord's day, say : 
 "The mass-priests shall on Sundays explain to the 
 people the sense of the Gospels in English, and 
 explain to them in English the Paternoster and the 
 Creed, to the end that all the people may know the 
 faith and cultivate their Christianity." And in this 
 very canon the pious ^Elfric saith, " Let the priest and 
 teacher beware of that which the prophet said — Canes 
 miiti non possiint latrare, Dumb dogs cannot bark ! " 
 But what are these Norman teachers and priests from 
 beyond the sea but dumb dogs to the Saxon people, 
 seeing they know no English and will not learn it .' ' 
 
 ' Yes/ said the ancient who had first spoken, ' until 
 these Normans came among us the bondman had one 
 day in seven to himself, and on every other festival of 
 the Church he was allowed to forget his bonds, and to 
 take rest and enjoyment, and to think of his soul ; 
 but now we be treated as if we had no souls.' 
 
 ' And,' said another of the serfs, ' in former days the 
 laws protected the money and goods of a bondman, if 
 so be he could obtain any, for the Saxon law said that 
 the master must not take from his slave that which 
 the slave had gained by his industry. But now the 
 serf cannot so much as call his life his property.' 
 
HE RE WARD GOES TO BRUNN 245 
 
 'Nor can any other true Saxon call anything his 
 own^ unless he stand up and fight for it, and prove 
 strong enough to keep it/ said Elfric, who was well 
 pleased to see and hear that his discourse on the 
 difference between the old bondage and the present 
 was not thrown away upon the upland serfs. 
 
 Quoth the priest who had before spoken : 
 
 * Our old Saxon laws were chary of blood, and held 
 in tender respect the life of all men, whether they 
 belonged to the nobility or were in a state of villainage. 
 Few crimes were punished with death or even with 
 mutilation. The commandment that man shall do no 
 murder was not only read in churches, but was re- 
 commended and enforced in the laws and dooms of 
 many Saxon kings. " If any one be slain," said the 
 old law, "let him be paid for according to his birth." 
 If a thane slew a churl, he had to pay for it. . . .' 
 
 ' Ay,' said one of the serfs, ' but the value of the 
 life of a churl was not more than the price of a few 
 bullocks ; whereas hides of land or the worth of 
 hundreds of bullocks was to be paid by him that slew 
 a thane.' 
 
 ' Tush ! ' quoth Elfric, ' thou canst not expect that 
 the life of a churl can ever be priced so high as that 
 of a noble, or that the same doom shall await the man 
 that kills a lord and the man that kills a peasant ! ' 
 
 The priest and all the bystanders said that such an 
 expectation would be too unreasonable, and that such 
 a thing could never come to pass in this world ; and 
 so the discontented churl merely nuittered that he 
 thought, since it was allowed the churl had an 
 immortal soul, even as the thane, that the life of a 
 churl was worth more than a few bullocks ; and then 
 said no more about it, bethinking himself that even 
 that price was better than no price at all, and that no 
 
246 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Normans that he knew of had ever yet been made to 
 make bot for maiming or killing a Saxon serf. 
 
 Some few of these men returned into Sherwood 
 forest, to live at large there, but the major part of 
 them tied on their buskins, fastened their sheep-skin 
 jackets, put their bows and quivers to their backs, and 
 marched off merrily with the sword-bearer to join 
 Lord Hereward at Ely or in the Camp. And after 
 this, and at various times, many upland churls, dis- 
 contented with their lot, came from the northern side 
 of the Trent and from other parts of the country to 
 join the Saxon army in the fens. It must not be 
 thought that tlie Lord of Brunn was unmindful of the 
 old laws, which ordained that no lord or free man 
 should harbour or entertain the churl that had fled 
 from his rightful owner; but Hereward felt that no 
 Norman could have the right of property over Saxon 
 serfs, and therefore he harboured and entertained 
 such as came freely to him. If the case had been 
 otherwise, he would, like the just lord that he was, 
 have put collars and chains upon the serfs and have 
 sent them back to their masters. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE DANES AND THEIR KINg's SON 
 
 SvEND EsTRiTHsoN sat upon the throne of Danemarck, 
 and was a powerful king and a great warrior, having 
 fought many battles by sea against his neighbour the 
 King of Norway. When his brother Osbiorn Jarl 
 abandoned the Saxons and returned from England 
 into Danemarck, Svend Estrithson was exceedingly 
 wroth at him, and his anger was the greater because 
 the Jarl had not only lost the treasure which William 
 the Norman had given him as the price of his treasons 
 to the English people, but had lost likewise nearly the 
 whole of the Danish fleet ; for a great storm arose at 
 sea and swallowed up most of the two hundred and 
 forty returning ships. Osbiorn Jarl escaped drowning ; 
 but when he presented himself before the face of his 
 brother the king, Svend loaded him with reproaches, 
 deprived him of his lands and honours, and drove him 
 into a disgraceful banishment. Even thus was bad 
 faith punished, and vengeance taken upon the Danes 
 for that they had both plundered and betrayed the 
 Saxon people, who were fighting for their liberties 
 against the Normans. 
 
 Svend Ethrithson, being of the line of the great King 
 Canute, raised some claim to the throne of England, 
 and had ever considered his right better and more 
 legal than that of William of Normandie. Before the 
 
 247 
 
248 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 arrival at his court of the earnest invitation of the 
 monks of Ely and the great Saxon lords in the Camp 
 of Refuge, he had resolved in his own mind to try his 
 fortune once more on our side the sea^ hoping that if 
 he should do no more he should at least be enabled 
 to make up for the loss of his great fleet, a loss which 
 pressed heavily upon his heart, and destroyed his 
 peace by day and his rest by night. He had sum- 
 moned his jarls and chiefs, the descendants of the 
 sea-kings or great pirates of old, and had taken 
 counsel of the old sea-rovers and warriors who had 
 been in England with the great Canute, or who had 
 served under Canute's sons. King Harold Harefoot 
 and King Hardicanute. Now these jarls and chiefs, 
 together with many of their followers, were well 
 acquainted with all the eastern side of England from 
 the Scottish border to the end of Cornwall ; and they 
 knew every bay, harbour, and creek on the coast, and 
 all the deep inlets of the sea and the rivers which 
 gave access to the interior of the country, for they 
 had warred or plundered in them all, aforetime. 
 Being called upon by King Svend to give their advice, 
 these chiefs and nobles all said that another expedi- 
 tion ought to be attempted without loss of time ; and 
 it was agreed at a great meeting of the Viborgting, 
 which corresponds with the Witenagemot of old Eng- 
 land, that another great fleet should be got ready, and 
 that the king or his eldest son should take the com- 
 mand of it. Some doubts, however, occurred as to 
 the present strength of the Normans and the present 
 condition of the English ; and, although they meant 
 to betray them or conquer them themselves, the 
 Danes proposed to begin merely as allies of the Eng- 
 lish, and felt little good could be done unless the 
 English on the eastern coast were unsubdued by the 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KINGS SON 249 
 
 Normans, and ready to receive the Danes with open 
 arms. At this juncture a ship arrived from Lynn with 
 the envoy from the Camp of Refuge on board. As 
 soon as the Englishman had presented the letters and 
 the gold and silver he brought to Svend Estrithson, 
 the king called together his great council. The envoy 
 from the Camp of Refuge was allowed to speak at 
 great length before the council, and the shipmen of 
 Lynn were more privately examined touching the pre- 
 sent situation of affairs in the fen country. All doubts 
 were removed, and the fleet was forthwith ordered to 
 get ready for the voyage to England. Already many 
 thousands of long- and yelloAv-haired warriors had been 
 collected for the enterprise, and now many thousands 
 more flocked towards the fleet from all parts of Jut- 
 land, Zealand, and Holstein, and from Stralsund and 
 the Isle of Rugen, and the other isles that stand near 
 the entrance of the Baltic Sea ; for whenever an ex- 
 pedition to the rich and fertile country of the Anglo- 
 Saxons was on foot, the hearts of the Danes rejoiced 
 in the prospect of good booty, even as the hearts of 
 the coast-dwelling people rejoice when they hear that 
 a rich wreck or a large fat whale hath been stranded 
 near to their doors. King Svend Estrithson, of a cer- 
 tainty, would have gone himself into England with 
 the fleet, but his royal shield fell to the ground and 
 broke as he was lifting it down from the wall, and a 
 hare crossed his path as he was walking in his garden, 
 and the priest his chaplain sneezed three times while 
 he was saying mass before him, and he was greatly 
 enamoured of the Princess Gyda, and in consequence 
 of all these evil omens the king resolved to stay at 
 home, and send his eldest son Knut into England. 
 Taking with him the royal standard of the black raven, 
 and manyjarls of high renown into his own ship, Knut 
 
250 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 began his voyage forthwith, being followed by two 
 hundred and fifty keels, large and small. The royal 
 ship was rich and splendid ; it had thirty benches of 
 rowers ; its prow was adorned with a dragon's head, 
 the eyes of which were of precious stones and the 
 tongue of red gold ; and the sides and the stern of 
 the ship glowed with burnished gold ; the whole body 
 of the ship glittered in the sun like some great and 
 marvellous fish or some swimming dragon ; and, in 
 sooth, the whole ship was dragon-shaped. The masts 
 and the cordage and the sails were surpassing rich 
 and gay ; the masts were covered with ivory and pearl, 
 the cords seemed to be covered with white silk, and 
 the sails were of many and bright colours. There 
 were cloths of gold spread all about, and the flag that 
 waved at the mainmast-head was all of silk and gold ; 
 and the windlass and the rudder were bepainted with 
 blue and gold. And on board this right royal ship 
 every warrior wore bright steel-chain armour, and 
 carried a shield and battle-axe inlaid with gold and 
 jewels, and each of value enough to purchase a hide 
 of land. A few other ships there were in this great 
 fleet only a little less splendid than that of Knut. 
 The rest were of a coarser make, and with no adorn- 
 ments about them except the figure-head at the prow 
 and the banner at the mast-head ; and they varied in 
 size and burthen from the great ship which could 
 carry two hundred fighting men, down to the little 
 bark which carried but ten. To speak the truth, 
 many of the fleet were little better than fishing barks. 
 The summer Avind blew fresh and fair for England, 
 the waves seethed before their prows, and on the 
 morning of that glad evening at Brunn when Lord 
 Hereward captured Torauld of Fescamp and put Ivo 
 Taille-Bois to flight and shame, nearly the whole of 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 251 
 
 the great fleet came to anchor off the Wash, and not 
 far from the chapel of our Ladie. Knut, the king's 
 son, being macertain and suspicious, like one that had 
 treacherous plans in his own mind, despatched one of 
 his smallest and poorest keels Avith a crafty and keen- 
 sighted chief up the Wash and up the Ouse, to confer 
 with Abbat Thurstan and the Saxon chiefs at Ely, to 
 spy into the condition of the Camp of Refuge, and to 
 invite the Lord Abbat and some of the great chiefs to 
 come down to Lynn, in order to hold there a solemn 
 conference with his jarls and chiefs. The messenger- 
 bark proceeded on her voyage prosperously, and 
 landed the cunning Dane at Ely. Good Abbat Thur- 
 stan wondered and grieved that the prince had not come 
 himself; yet he bade his envoy welcome, and feasted 
 him in his hall. But still more did Thurstan wonder 
 and grieve when he was told that Knut meant not to 
 come to Ely but was calling for a congress at Lynn. 
 
 ' There may be danger,' said the Lord Abbat to the 
 cunning old envoy, ' if I quit this house, and the great 
 thanes leave the Camp of Refuge, though only for a 
 short season ; but there can be no peril in thy prince's 
 coming hither, and assuredly it is only here that we 
 can entertain him as the son of a great king ought to 
 be entertained.' 
 
 The old Dane said that the prince his master had 
 schemes of operation which would not allow him to send 
 his ships up the Ouse for this present ; that he would 
 come hereafter, when good progress should have been 
 made in the war against the Normans ; and that in the 
 meanwhile it were best for my Lord Abbat, and some 
 other of the prelates, and some of the great lay lords, to 
 godown to Lynn and hold a conference, and make a com- 
 bined plan of operations with the prince and the jarls. 
 
 Much did the Saxon lords wish to make out what 
 
252 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 was the nature of the plan tlie prince had already 
 adopted ; but the astutious old envoy would tell them 
 nothing, and protested that he knew nothing about it. 
 The Saxons plied him hard with wine ; but the more 
 he drank, the more close the old Dane became. And 
 although he would tell nothing himself, he wanted to 
 know everything from the English : as, what was the 
 strength of their army in the Camp of Refuge, what 
 their means of subsistance, what the names of all 
 their chiefs — what their correspondence and alliance 
 with other Saxon chiefs in other parts of England — 
 what the strength of the Normans in various parts of 
 England, and which the provinces and the chiefs that 
 had entirely submitted to them, with many other 
 particulars. It was too confiding, and indeed very 
 unwise so to do ; but the Saxons, albeit often betrayed 
 before now, were not much given to suspicion, and so 
 they satisfied him according to the best of their know- 
 ledge on all these points, and conducted him into 
 their camp that he might see with his own eyes how 
 matters stood there, and afforded him all possible 
 opportunities of judging for himself as to the means 
 they had in hand, and the chances they had of 
 successfully terminating a struggle which had already 
 lasted for years. The crafty old man thought the 
 nakedness of the land much greater than it really was, 
 and he afterwards made a report conformably to Knut 
 his master and prince. Yet, on the morrow morning, 
 when he was about to take his departure from the 
 ever hospitable house of El}^, he took the Lord Abbat 
 aside, and with bland looks and most gentle voice 
 asked him whether he had not in the abbey some 
 small matter to send as a present and welcoming gift 
 to the royal Dane. Now good Thurstan, who was 
 never of those that had expected a vast and unmingled 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 253 
 
 good from the coming of the Danes, told him how he 
 had broken open the shrine-boxes and stripped the 
 shrines, and contaminated the house with dealing with 
 usurers, in order to get what had been sent into Dane- 
 marck as a present for the king. 
 
 ' But,' said the greedy Dane, ' have there been no 
 pilgrims to thy shrine since then ? ' 
 
 * Nay,' said the Lord Abbat, ' some few there have 
 been that have left their little offerings ; and, doubt- 
 less, many more will come ere many days be past, for 
 in this blessed month occur the festivals of our saints, 
 to wit, that of Saint Sexburga, queen and second 
 abbess of this house, and that of her kinswoman and 
 successor, Saint Withburga, virgin and abbess. On 
 such seasons the donations of the faithful were wont 
 to be most liberal ; but alas ! few are the Saxons now 
 that have anything left to give to Saxon saints ! And 
 the matter we have in our coffers at this present is too 
 small for a gift to a prince, and is, moreover, much 
 needed by this impoverished brotherhood.' 
 
 To this the cunning, clutching old Dane said that 
 a small matter was better than no money at all ; that 
 it had been the custom in all times to propitiate kings 
 and princes with free gifts ; that the Lord Abbat had 
 better send such gold and silver as he had ; and that 
 the gi'eat Knut might come up to Ely after the festival 
 of the two saints, when the shrine-boxes would be 
 fuller, and so give the monks of Ely occasion to make 
 a more suitable offering. 
 
 At these words Lord Thurstan grew red in the face, 
 and stared at the Dane with a half incredulous look ; 
 and then he said, ' Wouldst thou skin us alive .'' 
 Wouldst take the last silver penny .'' Wouldst see the 
 shrines of four among the greatest of our saints left in 
 dirt and darkness .'' Dane, can it be that thou art 
 
254 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 herein doing the bidding of a royal and a Christian 
 prince? Hast thou thy master's orders to ask that 
 which thou art asking ? ' 
 
 Not a whit discountenanced, the old Dane said that 
 men who lived with princes learned to know their 
 wishes, and hastened to execute them, without waiting 
 for express commands ; and that he must repeat that 
 he thought the best thing the Abbat of Ely could do 
 would be to send Prince Knut all the money he had in 
 the house. 
 
 'By the rood,' quoth Thurstan, still more angered, 
 ' these Danes be as rapacious as the Normans ! By 
 Saint Sexburga and Saint Withburga, and by every 
 other good saint in the calendarium, I will not consent 
 to this ! I will not rob the shrines to get a mere 
 beggar's alms. I cannot do the thing thou askest of 
 mine own authority. Such matters must be discussed 
 in full chajiter, and settled by the votes of the officials 
 and cloister-monks of the house. But I will not do 
 even so much as to name the matter ! ' 
 
 ' Then,' said the phlegmatic old Dane, ' I will speak 
 to the prior, or to the chamberlain, or to some other 
 official ; and as time presses, my Lord Abbat, thou 
 wilt hold me excused if I go and do it at once ! ' 
 
 And thus saying, he left good Thurstan, and went 
 to some of the monks who had been standing near 
 enough to overhear every word that had been said 
 since the Lord Abbat waxed warm. The envious prior 
 was there, and being ever ready to give pain to his 
 superior, he proposed that the chapter should be 
 summoned on the instant. This being agreed to by 
 the major part, the monks withdrew towards the 
 chapter-house, the cunning and cool old Dane saying 
 to some of them as they Avent thither, that he much 
 feared that if any distaste or disappointment were 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 255 
 
 given to Knut, he would take his fleet back to Dane- 
 marck and do nothing for the English. Short, there- 
 fore, Avas the chapter, and decisive the vote, notwith- 
 standing the opposition of Thurstan and a few others : 
 the shrine-boxes were again emptied, and the truly 
 beggar-like amount of silver and gold was put into a 
 silken purse to be carried to Lynn. So incensed was 
 the bounteous Lord Abbat, who ever had a large heart 
 and a scorn for mean and covetous things, that he 
 almost vowed not to go back with the old Dane to 
 salute his royal master, and be present at the delivery 
 of such a gift ; but he bethought him that, if he went 
 not, the prior must go, and that if the prior went some 
 evil might come of it. And so the right noble Abbat 
 of Ely went down to Lynn, together with the exiled 
 abbats of other houses and sundry lords from the 
 Camp of Refuge, much wishing that the Lord of Brunn 
 were with him to aid him in the conference. 
 
 As Thurstan landed at Lynn, where he expected to 
 see the royal ship and a good part of its attendant 
 fleet, he was mortified to find that there were no ships 
 there except a few Lynn barks ; and, upon going 
 into the town, he was yet more disappointed and 
 distressed by hearing, from some good Saxons who 
 had come in from the hamlets on the coast, that the 
 Danish fleet had sailed away to the northward, leaving 
 only a few of the smaller barks at the anchorage near 
 the Wash. Sharply did he question the old Dane as 
 to these movements. The Dane said that it was 
 possible the prince had run a little along the north 
 coast to pick up news, and that it was quite certain he 
 would soon be back. More than this he would not 
 say ; except that patience was a virtue. Some of our 
 Saxons went almost mad with impatience ; but on the 
 next day they received intelligence that the fleet had 
 
256 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 returned to the anchorage off the chapel of our Ladie, 
 and on the day next after that, Knut^ with six of his 
 largest ships, sailed up the Wash. In his run to the 
 northward, if he had not picked up much news, he had 
 picked up every English ship or bark that he found 
 afloat, and he had plundered every defenceless village 
 or township that lay near to that coast. He now cast 
 his anchor a long way before he came to Lynn, and 
 instead of proceeding to that good town to meet the 
 English prelates and nobles, he sent up a messenger 
 to summon them on board his own ship. At this the 
 Abbat of Ely was much vexed and startled ; and he 
 said to himself, ' Who shall tell me that this is not a 
 plot, and that the Danes will not seize us and carry us 
 off, or even deliver us up to the Normans ? ' but nearly 
 all those who had accompanied him from Ely despaired 
 of the salvation of England without Danish assistance 
 and were eager to go on ship-board and meet the 
 prince in the way it pleased him to prescribe, and 
 Thurstan grew ashamed of his fears and suspicions. 
 Other good men, however, had their suspicions as well 
 as the Lord Abbat ; and when he embarked in the 
 small Danish craft which had been left waiting for the 
 envoy at Lynn, many trusty Saxons of the township 
 and vicinage would absolutely go with him, and every 
 bark or boat that could swim was crowded by the bold 
 Lynn mariners, and rowed down to the Wash. 
 
 Knut, the son of the king of Danemarck, standing 
 on his proud gilded ship, received the English prelates 
 and chiefs with great stateliness, yet not without 
 courtesy : and when the silken purse and the scrap- 
 ings of the shrine-treasures had been presented to 
 him (Thurstan blushing the while), he sat down with 
 his jarls on one side of a long table, and the English- 
 men sat down on the opposite side ; and then the 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 257 
 
 conference began. Unhappily for the EngUsh lands- 
 men a summer storm began to blow at the same 
 time, causing the royal ship to roll, and thus making 
 them feel the terrible sickness of the sea. At this 
 Thurstan almost wished that he hud let the prior 
 come, instead of coming himself. Knut, the prince, 
 spoke first in a very few words, and then his jarls 
 further propounded and explained his plan of the 
 war. The Danes indeed had nearly all the talking 
 to themselves, for not many of them understood what 
 the English said, or had patience to hear it inter- 
 preted ; the qualms and sickness of the English 
 almost took away their power of speech, and, more- 
 over, they very soon discovered that nothing they 
 could say had any effect in altering the opinions 
 and decisions of the predetermined Danes. It was 
 grievous, they said, that the English, who had been 
 so rich, should now have so little money to share 
 with their friends and deliverers ! They hoped that 
 the good prelates and lords would be able to hold out 
 in the isle of Ely and throughout the fen country ; 
 and as they had held out so long, no doubt they 
 could hold out longer. In the meanwhile they, their 
 good allies the Danes, would divide their fleet, and 
 scour all the coast, and sail up all the great rivers, 
 for this would distract the attention of the Normans, 
 would alarm them at one and the same time in many 
 different and distant places, and infallibly compel 
 them to recall their forces from Cam-Bridge and 
 Stamford, and to give up all premeditated attacks on 
 the fen country. 
 
 ' Ay,' said a sea-rover, whose yellow hair had 
 grown as white as snow with excess of age, and whose 
 sunken eye glistened at the memory of past adventures 
 of that sort, ' Ay, Saxons ! we will sweep all this 
 
 R 
 
258 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 eastern coast from north to south and from south to 
 north, as with a besom ! We will sail or row our barks 
 up every river that flows into the sea on this side of 
 your island, and that hath keels on its waters or towns 
 on its banks. Tweed, Tyne, and Humber, Trent, 
 Orwell, Stour, and Thamesis, with all the rivers that 
 run between them or into them, shall hear our war- 
 cry as of yore ! ' 
 
 ' But, alas ! ' said one of the Saxon lords, ' who will 
 suffer in this kind of war but the Saxons ? The Normans 
 have very few ships. The ships on the coast and on 
 the rivers, and the townships and hamlets, are all 
 English still, and cannot be seized or destroyed with- 
 out ruin to us and the cause which the King of Dane- 
 marck hath engaged to support.' 
 
 The old sea-rover was silent, and the other Danes 
 pretended not to understand what the Saxon lord said. 
 Abbat Thurstan told the prince that of a surety the 
 Saxons in the Camp of Refuge could continue to de- 
 fend themselves ; but that they could do still better 
 if the Danes would spare them some arms and other 
 warlike harness, and remain for a while in the Wash 
 and in the rivers which empty themselves into it, in 
 order to co-operate with the Saxons. Knut, who well 
 knew that there was nothing to be picked up in those 
 waters, shook his head, and said that his own plan 
 was the best, and could not be altered ; and that, 
 touching the matter of arms and harness, he had none 
 to spare, but that he would send over to the Nether- 
 landers' country and buy, if the Saxons would give 
 him the money. Here the Abbat and the Saxon lords 
 were silent. But when Knut spoke of the great losses 
 which the Danes had suffered in the foundering of 
 their return fleet the year before, Thurstan reddened 
 and said, 'The Jarl Osbiorn acted a traitorous part, 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 259 
 
 and hatli been treated as a traitor by his brother and 
 king. That loss was the direct judgment of Heaven ! 
 The fleet was loaded with the spoils of England and 
 with the money taken from the Norman for betraying 
 the English ! Prince, and jarls all ! if ye be come to 
 do as Osbiorn did last year, I say look to your fleet, 
 and look to the health of your own souls ! ' 
 
 Hereupon Knut and his great chiefs began to cross 
 themselves, and to make many promises and protes- 
 tations ; and then the prince called for wine and 
 pledged the Lord Abbat of Ely and the other English 
 lords, lay and ecclesiastical, severally : and when they 
 had all drunk wine, he broke up the conference and 
 dismissed them in a very unhappy state both of mind 
 and of stomach, for the storm had increased, and the 
 wine was sour and bad. The royal Dane hauled in 
 his anchors and set sail to get out of the Wash and 
 from among the dangerous sandbanks. As soon as 
 the Saxon lords got ashore at Lynn, and free from 
 their exceeding great sickness, Thurstan said that he 
 greatly feared a woeful error had been committed 
 in inviting the Danes back again, and that a short 
 time would show that the Lord of Brunn had been 
 quite right in recommending the Saxons to trust to 
 their own arms and efforts for their independence ; 
 but those lords who had voted for the invitation said 
 that it was clear the Danes would have come back 
 whether they had been invited or not, and that it was 
 equally clear that England could not be saved without 
 the aid of some foreign nation. These lords also 
 thought that a crowned king like Svend Estrithson 
 would not break his royal word, and that the prince 
 his son would not act like Osbiorn, albeit he might, 
 in the ancient manner of the Danes, be too eager to 
 scour the seas and rivers and capture whatever he 
 
260 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 might find, whether it belonged to friend or foe, to 
 Saxon or to Norman. Yet, truth to say, these lords 
 were far from feeling assured, and save one or two, 
 that were afterwards proved to be false traitors in 
 their hearts, they all returned to Ely sadder men than 
 they were when they left it to go to meet Knut. 
 
 That which the white-headed sea-rover had said, 
 and a great deal more than he uttered, speedily came 
 to pass : north and south the English coast was 
 plundered ; and, ascending the many rivers in their 
 lighter vessels and in their boats, the Danes went far 
 into the interior of the country, pillaging, burning, 
 and destroying, even as their forefathers had done in 
 the heathenish times. Up the broad H umber they 
 went until they got into the Yorkshire Ouse, and 
 they would have gone on to the city of York, but 
 that it was strongly garrisoned by Normans, and the 
 whole country a desert — a desert which Osbiorn and 
 his evil company had made in the preceding year. 
 On the river Yare they went as high as the good city 
 of Norwich, but they ventui-ed not to attack the 
 Normans in that place. The Waveney, too, and the 
 Aid they visited, nor left the poor Saxons there so 
 much as a fishing-boat. Up the river Deeben as far 
 as the wood bridge, where a pleasant town hath since 
 risen ; and between the pleasant, green-wooded banks 
 of the Orwell, they sailed many a league. After 
 ravaging the banks of the Stour, Knut collected all 
 his ships together and then spread his sails on the 
 smooth Medway and the broad Thamesis, going up 
 the Thamesis almost to London ; and then mooring 
 his ships, and making a great show as though he 
 intended to land an army and lay siege to the Tower 
 of London, which the Normans were then busily 
 enlarging and strengthening. 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 261 
 
 Not all the doings of the Danes, and the robberies 
 and cruelties they committed upon poor defenceless 
 Saxons, could be known in the Camp of Refuge ; yet 
 enough was known by the report of the country 
 people to grieve every English heart in the camp, and 
 to confirm the worst suspicions which Abbat Thurstan 
 had conceived. On the other hand, it was made 
 apparent that the Normans were greatly distracted by 
 this new invasion, and that, while their vicomtes and 
 knights and men-at-arms were marching in almost 
 every other direction, none of them came near to the 
 last asylum of Saxon liberty. In truth, the posts 
 which had previously been drawn round the fen 
 country were so far Aveakened that the Lord Here- 
 ward, who had again taken a direct and entire com- 
 mand in the Camp of Refuge, made several good 
 sallies from the fens and brought back not a few 
 Norman prisoners, together with good store of pro- 
 vision. 
 
 Matters were in this good train in the camp when 
 intelligence was brought that Knut, with the whole 
 of his mighty fleet, had returned to the Wash. The 
 Danish faction, or all those Saxon lords who counted 
 more upon Danish assistance than upon their own 
 valour and the valour of their countrymen, were 
 greatly rejoiced at these tidings, and would not allow 
 any man to doubt that Knut, having made good 
 seizings and spoils, was now come to co-operate with 
 the English warriors and their great captain the 
 Lord of Brunn ; and these unwise lords, being partly 
 guided or misguided by traitors, outvoted the Lord 
 Abbat, and sent down a deputation to Lynn to salute 
 and welcome the royal Dane, and to invite him and 
 escort him to Ely. And this time Knut was nothing 
 loth to come : and he came up the river with a part 
 
262 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 of his fleet of ships and with many of his jarls and 
 most famed warriors. Crowned kings had visited 
 the great house of Ely before now, and kings of the 
 Danish as well as of the Saxon line, but to none of 
 them had there been given a more splendid feast 
 than was now given to Knut, who as yet was but a 
 jarl and a king's son. The Saxon dames of high 
 name and beauty came in from the Camp of Refuge, 
 or from houses in the township of Ely, or in circum- 
 jacent hamlets, to welcome the princely stranger and 
 adorn the festival ; and fairest among these fair was 
 Alftrude, the young wife of the Lord of Brunn. The 
 Lord Hereward himself was there, but much less 
 cheerful and festive than was his wont; for on his 
 last sally from the fens he had heard more than he 
 kneAv before of the evil doings of the Dane ; and, 
 moreover, he had ever suspected their good faith. 
 
 When the feasting was over, the cunning old Dane 
 that had come up to Ely before as envoy from the 
 prince, began to relate what great mischief Knut had 
 done to Duke William, and what great service he 
 had rendered to the House of Ely and the Camp of 
 Refuge, and the whole fen country, by the diversion 
 he had made with his ships ; and before any of the 
 Saxon lords could reply or make any observation 
 upon these his words, the astute Dane asked whether 
 the festivals of Saint Sexburga and Saint Withburga 
 had been well attended by pilgrims, and whether the 
 shrine-boxes had had a good replenishing ? The 
 chamberlain, who ought not to have spoken before 
 his superior the Lord Abbat, said that the festivals 
 had been thronged, and that considering the trouble- 
 some times, the donations of the pilgrims had been 
 liberal. 
 
 'That is well,' said the old fox, 'for our ships 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 263 
 
 have had much wear and tear, and stand in need of 
 repairs ; and the prince wants some gold and silver 
 to pay his seamen and his fighting men^ who are 
 growing weary and dissatisfied for want of pay.' 
 
 Here the Lord Abbat looked rather grim, and said, 
 ' Of a truth I thought that thy people had made 
 great booty ! By Saint Etheldreda, the founder of 
 this house — the house was never so poor as it now is, 
 or had such urgent need of money as it now hath ! 
 By my soul, it is but a small matter that is in our 
 shrine-boxes, and all of it, and more than all is due 
 unto the Jews.' 
 
 ' It is sinful and heathenish to pay unto Jews the 
 gold and silver which Christian pilgrims have deposited 
 on the shrines of their saints,' said one of the Danish 
 jarls. 
 
 And hereat the Lord Abbat Thurstan blushed and 
 held down his head, much grieving that, though 
 against his vote and will, the house had been driven 
 to traflic with Israelites and money-changers ; yet 
 still remembei'ing that this evil thing had been begun 
 in order to get money to send to the insatiate Danes. 
 All this while Prince Knut kept his state, and said 
 not a word. But the cunning old man went on to 
 say, that hitherto the profits of the expedition had 
 not been half enough to pay King Svend Estrithson 
 the price of half the ships he had lost last year; and 
 that, although the amount of gold and silver in the 
 shrine-boxes might be but small, there was a rumour 
 that there were good treasures in the house. 
 
 Here it was that the Lord of Brunn grew red, for 
 he was the first to understand that the greedy Dane 
 meant to speak of the chalices and pateras, the crown 
 of gold, the gold and silver tables, and the other 
 things of great price that he had brought away with 
 
264 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 him from Peterborough in order that they might be 
 saved from Torauld of Fescamp. Again speaking, 
 ■when he ought not to have spoken — before Abbat 
 Thurstan could speak or collect his thoughts — the 
 chamberlain said, ' Verily, O Dane ! I have under 
 my charge some strong boxes which the Lord of 
 Brunn sent hither from Peterborough ; and, albeit, I 
 know not with precision what these strong boxes 
 contain, . . .' 
 
 Here Abbat Thurstan stopped the talkative 
 chamberlain and said, ' Let the strong boxes contain 
 what they will, the contents are none of ours ! They 
 be here as a sacred deposit, to be returned to the 
 good monks of Petei'borough when they can get back 
 to their house and their church, and live without 
 dread of Saxon traitors and Norman plunderers ! ' 
 
 But many of the Danes, believing the Peterborough 
 treasure to be far greater than it was, said that it 
 would be no such sin to employ it for secular purposes, 
 or to give it for the support of friends and allies 
 who had quitted their homes and their countries, 
 and had crossed the stormy ocean to aid the English ; 
 for that, when the Danes and the English between 
 them should have driven the Normans out of the land, 
 there would be no lack of gold and silver wherewith 
 to replace the sacred vessels, and to give back to 
 Peterborough Abbey far more than had been taken 
 from it. Some of them declared, and severally pro- 
 mised and swore by their own saints, that if Knut, 
 their leader, and the son of their king, was but 
 gratified in this particular, he would land all his best 
 warriors and join Hereward the Saxon, and so go 
 in search of Duke William and bring the Normans to 
 battle : and if Knut did not swear by his saints, or say 
 much by word of mouth, he nodded his head and 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 265 
 
 seemed to consent — the christened infidel, and un- 
 prince-like prince that he was. 
 
 It may be judged whether Lord Hereward was not 
 eager for such an increase of strength as might enable 
 him to carry the war into the heart of England or under 
 the walls of the city of London ! It may be judged 
 whether he did not burn for the opportunity of fight- 
 ing a great and decisive battle : but Hereward had a 
 reverence for the property of the Church, and a great 
 misgiving of the Danes ; and he whispered to his best 
 friend, the Lord Abbat, ' If we put this guilt upon 
 our souls, and give these insatiate Danes all that they 
 ask, they will do not for us that which they promise, 
 but will sail away in their ships with the plunder 
 they have made as soon as the storms of winter 
 approach.' 
 
 This too was the doubt if not the entire belief of 
 Thurstan. But the chamberlain and the prior called 
 out aloud for a chapter ; and those who were of a 
 party with the prior and chamberlain laboured might 
 and main to convince the whole brotherhood that the 
 Danes ought to be gratified, and that they could be 
 gratified without sin. Nay, some of them whispered 
 to the more timid part of the community, that if the 
 Peterborough treasure, as well the shrine-money, 
 were not quietly given to Knut, he would take it by 
 force, as the house and the avenues to it were filled 
 with his armed men, and as his barks were lying close 
 under the abbey walls. The call for a chapter now 
 became so loud and general that the Lord Abbat could 
 not resist it ; and so, leaving his guests in the hall, 
 Thurstan went to the chapter-house, and being 
 followed by all who were competent to vote, the doors 
 were closed, and the brotherhood deliberated. That 
 deliberation was long, and would have been longer 
 
266 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 but for the impatience of the Danes, who vociferated 
 in the hall, and even went the length of running to 
 the door of the chapter-house and striking upon it, 
 with loud and most unmannerly shoutings. At last 
 it was resolved by the majority, and sorely against 
 the will of the Lord Abbat, that the Danes should 
 have the shrine-money, with other Ely treasure, and 
 all the Peterborough treasure, with the exception of 
 the relics, for which it was thought they would care 
 but little, inasmuch as they were not relics of Danish 
 saints. 
 
 Thurstan was so grieved at this resolution that he 
 would not report it in the hall ; but the prior gladly 
 charged himself with the office, and then he and the 
 chamberlain and the sacrist conveyed the cunning old 
 Dane, and the prince, his master, into the treasury of 
 the house, and there counted and delivered over to 
 them all the gold and silver, and all the gilded crosses 
 and silver vessels, and all the silks and hangings, with 
 everything else which had been brought from Peter- 
 borough, except the relics. But even these last were 
 taken out of the reliquaries which held them, as the 
 said reliquaries were made of gold and of silver, or of 
 crystal and amber curiously wrought, and so Knut 
 would carry them away with him. 
 
 Let Petei-borough weep for its own, and Ely weep 
 for that which was its own ! King Canute, who had so 
 loved to keep the festival of the Purification in great 
 solemnity at Ely Abbey, had once brought his wife 
 unto the abbey, and Emma, the queen, had given 
 many rich gifts to the church. A piece of purple 
 cloth, wrought with gold, and set with jewels, such as 
 there was none like it in the kingdom, she offered to 
 St. Etheldreda; and to the other saints there, she 
 offered to each of them a covering of silk, embroidered 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 267 
 
 and set with jewels, but of less value than the former. 
 Also did Emma, the queen of King Canute, give, as 
 a covering for the high altar, a large pall of a green 
 colour, adorned with plates of gold, to be used on the 
 grand festivals ; and to be placed over this she gave 
 a great piece of fine linen of a deep red colour ; and 
 this linen covered the whole of the altar, and reached 
 from the corners quite down to the ground, and it had 
 a gold fringe quite down to the ground, and it had 
 a rich and glorious show. Prince Knut knew of these 
 precious gifts of Queen Emma, for the fame of them 
 had gone into foreign lands, and therefore his cunning 
 old man asked for them, and got them, to the great 
 displeasure of the saints. 
 
 As the Danes were carrying all this treasure down 
 to their ships, the cunning old man renewed his 
 assurances that the prince, being thus gratified, would 
 soon do great things for the Saxon cause. Hereward 
 asked the old man in his plain direct way 7vhen Knut 
 would land his warriors. The cunning man replied, 
 that it was not for him to fix the day and hour, but 
 that his lordship would soon hear news of the fleet. 
 The Lord of Brunn then turned aside and said to the 
 Lord yVbbat : ' By Saint Ovin and his cross, I believe 
 the first news will be that the fleet has started back 
 to Danemarck ! Let us yet stop this treasure and send 
 them away empty-handed, at least from Ely ! I care 
 nought for their serried ranks, and ponderous battle- 
 axes. We have a good force, my Lord Abbat, in the 
 township, and, were that not more than enough, a few 
 blasts of the Saxon horn would bring us warriors from 
 tlie Camp ! ' 
 
 ' My son,' said Thui'stan, ' I fear their battle-axes 
 no more than thou dost ; but I cannot dare act in 
 violation of the decisions of the chapter. Alas ! there 
 
268 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 are jealousies and animosities enough already. As sure 
 as the sun shines in the heavens, that dark-browed, 
 envious prior is in a plot against me ! Could he find 
 the opportunity, he would deprive me of my authority 
 by a vote of the house in chapter. I dare not resist 
 the will of the majority : the gold and the treasure 
 must even go, since traitors and fools, but more fools 
 than traitors, have so willed it.' 
 
 'Then/ quoth the Lord of Brunn, Met us only 
 hope and pray that this Knut may have more good 
 faith and honour than we give him credit for.' 
 
 ' I will speak to him again, ere he depart,' said the 
 Abbat. 
 
 And Thurstan spoke earnestly to Knut, and Knut 
 nodded his head, and uttered many Ahs ! and Ohs ! 
 but said nothing further. It was thought by some 
 that this taciturnity did not proceed from choice but 
 from necessity, as the son of the Danish King had 
 swallowed a prodigious quantity of wine, and could 
 hardly stand on his legs without support. And in the 
 drinking of wine and strong drinks, if other nations 
 marvelled at the Saxons, the Saxons themselves 
 marvelled at the Danes. So great was the quantity 
 consumed on this day that the wine-cellars at Ely, 
 which had not been replenished since Lord Hereward's 
 first return from foreign parts, were left almost dry. 
 And thus, having drunk nearly all the wine and taken 
 off all the treasure of the house, the Danes and their 
 prince got back to their ships. Knut stood up on the 
 deck of the royal galley, just under the royal standard 
 of Danemarck, and made some gestures, as though he 
 would make a speech. Such of the monks of Ely, 
 and such of the Saxon lay lords as had given him their 
 attendance to the water-side, stood a-tip-toe on the 
 river-bank, and strained their eyes to see, and opened 
 
THE DANES AND THEIR KING'S SON 269 
 
 wide their ears to hear ; but nothing came from Knut 
 but an Ah ! and an Oh ! and a loud hiccup ; and the 
 galley being unmoored and the rowers on their banks, 
 Knut waved his hand, and the vessel glided down the 
 river towards Lynn. 
 
 That very night the town of Lynn, which had 
 received the Danish fleet in all friendship and with 
 much hospitality, was plundered and set fire to ; and 
 before the next night the whole fleet had quitted the 
 Wash and the English coast, and was in full sail for 
 Danemarck, loaded with the plunder of England and 
 with the money which had been again paid by the 
 Normans as the price of Danish treachery. 
 
 Even while he was lying in the river Thamesis with 
 his great fleet, and was seeming to threaten the Tower 
 of London, Knut received on board envoys and rich 
 presents from Duke William, and was easily made to 
 sign a treaty of amity and alliance with the Normans, 
 even as his uncle Osbioi-n had done the year before. 
 And did the traitorous Danes enjoy the spoil they had 
 gotten .'' Not so. When they got into the middle of 
 the sea there arose a violent storm and dispersed the 
 ships wherein were lodged the spoils made at Ely and 
 at other places, and some of these ships went to 
 Norway, some to Ireland, and some to the bottom of 
 the sea ; and all of the spoils of Ely and Peterborough 
 that reached Danemarck consisted of a table and a 
 few reliquaries and crucifixes ; and these things, being 
 deposited in the church of a town belonging to King 
 Svend, were consumed by fire ; for the careless and 
 drunken shipmen set fire to the town and church by 
 night, and so caused the loss of much more treasure 
 than that which the shipmen had brought with them 
 from England. The amount of the total treasure jiaid 
 to Knut by Duke William was never known with any 
 
270 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 certainty in England, out of the very vitals of which it 
 was torn ; but it is known in another place, where all 
 these acts of treachery are recorded, and heavily will 
 it press ujDon the soul of Knut, and upon the selfish 
 soul of his father, Svend Estrithson, who ratified the 
 foul bargain he had made. And, even in this world, 
 hath not the avenging hand of Heaven smitten them 
 twain ? Hath not the excommunication of the Holy 
 Church fallen twice upon Svend ? Hath not unnatural 
 warfare raged long between the sons of Svend, and 
 hath not Knut been murdered in his prime — ay, 
 murdered in a church to which he fled for sanctuary ? 
 He had offended the saints by his broken faith, and 
 by plundering the shrines in England ; and therefore 
 no shrine or altar could save him from the treachery 
 and malice of his own subjects. 
 
 All the evils done to England by Knut and his 
 Danes are not yet told, but they will plainly appear 
 hereafter. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE NORMAN WITCH 
 
 So the Danes and their ships were gone with all that 
 they could carry with them ; and the Saxons of Ely 
 and in the Camp of Refuge, after being robbed as well 
 as betrayed, were left to their own devices. Much 
 was Duke William heartened by the departure of Knut, 
 and the treaty he had made with him ; and, seeing no 
 enemy in any other part of England, he gave his whole 
 mind to the war in the fen country. More knights 
 and adventurers had come over from France and from 
 sundry other countries to aid the Conqueror in his 
 enterprises, and to seek provision and fortune in un- 
 happy England. Choosing some of the best of these 
 new comers, and joining them to troops that had been 
 tried in the hard warfare of the fen country, the son 
 of Robert the Devil by the harlot of Falaise sent 
 strong garrisons to Grantham and Stamford, and 
 Peterborough, and Cam-Bridge ; and, carrying with 
 him his chancellor and nearly the whole of his court, 
 he quitted London and went himself to Cam-Bridge 
 to direct the war in person. As he and his mighty 
 great host were marching through the country towards 
 the river Cam, and as the poor Saxon people counted 
 the number of the lances, they said, ' Miserere, Domine! 
 The conquest of our country is complete, and not even 
 Hereward the Brave will be able longer to defend the 
 Camp of Refuge ! ' 
 
 271 
 
272 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 When Duke William arrived in the camp at Cam- 
 Bridge, and examined the fen country which lay 
 before him, he severely censured the folly and rash- 
 ness of Eustache of Ambleville ; and also chiding the 
 impatient and self-confident knights that were now 
 with him and eager to fall on, he swore his terrible 
 oath, by the splendour of God's face, that he would 
 not allow of any fighting until the ancient causeway 
 should be repaired and fortified with towers, and 
 another and a broader causeway carried across the 
 marshes into the very heart of the fens, and opposite 
 to the point whereon the Saxons had constructed the 
 main defence of their Camp of Refuge. Timber and 
 stones and baked bricks were brought from all parts 
 of the covmtry, and every Saxon serf that could be 
 caught Avas impressed, and was forced to labour almost 
 unto death upon works intended for the destruction of 
 his countrymen. Skilful artisans and men experienced 
 in the making of roads and the building of bridges 
 were brought to Cam-Bridge from the city of London, 
 from the city of Caen in Normandie, and from other 
 places beyond the seas ; and the task which William 
 had in hand was made the easier by the long-con- 
 tinued, unwonted dryness of the season. But the 
 Lord of Brunn, although he prayed heartily for rain, 
 did in nowise lose heart ; and in proportion as his 
 difficulties increased, his wit and invention increased 
 also. The working parties on the roads were con- 
 stantly covered and protected by great bodies of troops 
 put under the command of vigilant officers ; but this 
 did not prevent Hereward from stealing through the 
 tall concealing rushes of the fens, and the forests of 
 willows and alders, and falling upon the workmen and 
 destroying their works. On several occasions he cut 
 the Norman guard to pieces before they could form in 
 
THE NORMAN WITCH 273 
 
 order of battle ; and several times he destroyed in a 
 single night the labour of many days, levelling the 
 Norman towers with the ground, breaking up their 
 bridges, and carrying off their timber and their tools 
 and other good spoil. It always happened that when 
 his enemies were surest he would not come, he came ; 
 and when they expected him at one given point, he 
 was sure to make an attack upon another and dis- 
 tant point. At times his ambuscades, surprises, and 
 onslaughts were so numerous and rapid that he 
 seemed to have the faculty of being in many places 
 at one and the same time. Many a Norman knight 
 was surprised at his post, or even carried off from 
 the midst of a camp, and dragged through the rushes 
 and forests at the dead of night, an astonished and 
 helpless captive. Many a time a great body of Nor- 
 man troops would take to flight and leave all their 
 baggage behind them, upon merely hearing the shout 
 of ' Hereward for England ! ' or those other shouts, 
 ' The Lord of Brunn is coming ! Fly, ye Norman 
 thieves ! Out ! out ! ! ' Such were Lord Hereward's 
 successes, and such the Norman awe of his unfore- 
 seen stratagems and unaccountable surprises, that 
 the Normans entirely believed Hereward to be in 
 league with the devil, and to be aided by witches 
 and necromancers and fiends worse than the blubber 
 devils of Crowland. Now it was true that, for many 
 of his stratagems and devices, and for many of the 
 sleights and tricks with which he appalled the Nor- 
 mans, Hereward was indebted to the science and 
 travail of that thin, dark man of Salerno, and Nor- 
 man-hater, Girolamo ; and, by means of deserters 
 from the camp, and by means of ransomed Normans 
 that had been allowed to quit the camp, the Saler- 
 nitan, if he had not been made well known to the 
 
274 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Normans, had been much talked about, and had 
 become the object of so much dread that no knight 
 or man-at-arms ever named his name without cross- 
 ing himself. Nor were the Normans long before they 
 agreed, one and all, that the dark and silent Salerni- 
 tan was Hereward's chief magician, the devil-dealing 
 necromancer to whom he stood indebted for all his 
 successes. Loudly did they raise their voices against 
 this supposed Avickedness ; and yet, when they found 
 that their misfortunes and losses went on increasing, 
 they came to the resolution to meet what was no 
 witchcraft at all with real witchcraft, and they told 
 Duke William in Cam-Bridge Castle that he must 
 send over into Normandie for the most famed witch 
 of that land, where there was no lack either of 
 witches or of warlocks ; and the son of Robert the 
 Devil, whose father, as his name imports, had been 
 liege man to Lucifer, sent over to Normandie ac- 
 cordingly to seek for the most dreaded of Norman 
 witches. Now, whether it was this wickedness that 
 did it, or whether it was that the moist air of the 
 fens and the autumnal season did not suit Duke 
 William, certain at least it is that he fell sick of a 
 fever and ague, and therefore took a hurried depar- 
 ture from Cam-Bridge and travelled towards London, 
 having first sent to call from Stamford town Ivo 
 Taille-Bois to take the command of the great army. 
 Now, when Ivo came to Cam-Bridge, and when Duke 
 William was away in London, matters went far worse 
 with the Normans than before, for the Vicomte was 
 not a great captain, as the Duke assuredly was. 
 Moreover many of the troops took the ague, and 
 others Avere so unmanned by their fears that they 
 could never be made to stand their ground ; and, in 
 fine, all vowed that they would not venture among 
 
THE NORMAN WITCH 275 
 
 the woods and bulrushes, nor attempt any feat of 
 arras whatever until the great witch should arrive 
 from Normandie to countervail the black arts of the 
 Salernitan and the other wizards and witches they 
 falsely believed to be employed by the pious Lord of 
 Brunn. 
 
 At last a terrible Norman witch arrived at Cam- 
 Bridge, and she was received in the entrenched camp 
 and in the castle with transports of exceeding great 
 joy. Loathsome and wicked at the same time were it 
 to describe the person and features, the attire and 
 demeanour, the spells and incantations of this fright- 
 ful and detestable portentum. Her years far exceeded 
 the ordinary length of human life, and they had all 
 been spent in sin and in the practice of infernal arts : 
 in sin and actual devilry had she been conceived and 
 born, for her mortal father was none other than that 
 arch-heresiarch and enemy to the saints, Leutarde of 
 Vertus, in the bishopric of Chalons, who went about 
 with a sledge-hammer breaking the images of God's 
 saints, and preaching that God's prophets had not 
 always prophesied the truth, and that God-living 
 servants and ministers of the altar had no right to 
 their tithes ! Since the day when her sire^ pursued 
 by his bishop, cast himself head foremost into a deep 
 well and was drowned (for the devils, in their compact 
 with him, had only agreed that he should never be 
 burned), this foul strega, his only daughter, had 
 wandered over the face of the wide earth doing 
 mischief, and dwelling most in those forsaken, accursed 
 parts of the earth where witchcraft doth most flourish. 
 It was said that she had been as far north as that 
 dread isle which is covered with snow, and which yet 
 is for ever vomiting smoke and flames ; even to that 
 northern isle which pious men believe to be one of 
 
276 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the entrances into hell, and which has been notori- 
 ously inhabited at all times by devils and devil- 
 worshippers ; that she had lived among the Laps, who 
 call up demons by beat of drum ; and that she had 
 dwelt in the Orcades, where the devil's dam and her 
 handmaidens use to raise great storms, and to sell 
 wind foul or fair. Of a surety was there no witch 
 of all that congregated round the witch-tree of 
 Beneventum more known than this ! It was known, 
 too, how she came by that broken leg which made her 
 limp in her gait. Once in flying through the air to 
 the hellish sabbat at Beneventum she came too near 
 to the cross of Saint Peter's Church at Rome, and so 
 fell to the earth. 
 
 Ivo Taille-Bois, proftine man as he was, would have 
 turned with horror from the witch, but in his sinful 
 ignorance he believed that the devil's arts might be 
 employed against the devil, and he saw that all the 
 soldiery, nay, and all the chivalry put under his com- 
 mand, believed that without witchcraft they could 
 never cope with the Lord of Brunn, nor make any 
 way in the fen country. As for the witch herself, 
 she promised the men immediate and most marvellous 
 victories. Therefore it was agreed that she should go 
 forth with the troops and the working parties and 
 penetrate into the fens, and that she should take her 
 station on a high wooden tower, and thence give her 
 directions as well to the working-men as to the fight- 
 ing men. Now Lord Hereward and Girolamo of 
 Salerno, being advised of the arrival of the hag and of 
 the plans of the Normans, took counsel together, and 
 trusted, with the aid of the saints, to break the spell 
 and sortilege, and consume the witch while in the very 
 act of her witchcraft. Calling in his merry men from 
 all their outposts, and posting them behind a river, 
 
THE NORMAN WITCH 277 
 
 Lord Hereward allowed the Normans to advance a 
 good way into the fens, and he offered them no 
 molestation while they were building a lofty wooden 
 tower in the midst of an open plain. But when the 
 tower was finished and the witch was at her incanta- 
 tions, and when the Norman band was gathered round 
 the foot of the tower in that open plain, Hereward 
 and Girolamo, aided only by Elfric and a few other 
 alert Saxons, came round unseen to the edge of the 
 plain and set fire to the dense reeds and rushes that 
 grew upon it. It is the custom of the fenners to burn 
 their reeds and stubble in the month of November of 
 every year in order to fertilise the soil with the ashes 
 thereof; and at this season one sees all this moorish 
 country in a flame, to his great wonder and surprise, 
 if he be a stranger in these parts. It was noAv the 
 burning-time, and owing to the exceeding dryness of 
 the summer and of the autumn likewise, the reeds and 
 junci in this plain were all as dry as matches : add to 
 this that the Salernitan had brought with him and had 
 sprinkled over the plain some of his marvellous com- 
 pounds which made a raging and inextinguishable 
 fire, and that the wind was blowing keenly from the 
 north-east right across the plain and towards the tall 
 wooden tower; and then it may be, to some degree, 
 imagined how rapidly and awfully the flames, once 
 lit, rolled over that broad open field, crackling, and 
 iiissing, and then roaring in the wind, while columns 
 of thick, pungent, suffocating smoke rolled after them, 
 darkening the sun and sky and making visible the 
 horrible red glare. At the first glimpse of the mighty 
 blaze the hag stopped her incantation and let the 
 hell-broth she was brewing drop from her skinny 
 hands with a hideous yell ; and the men-at-arms and 
 the labourers that were gathered at the foot of the 
 
278 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 tower cast a look of dread and horror to windward and 
 screamed like the witch, and then took to their heels 
 and ran across the plain in the desperate hope of 
 keeping before the winds and the flames, and paying 
 no heed to the witch, who had no means of descending 
 from her tower. ' Ha ! ha ! thou hag ! where is thy 
 witch-tree of Beneventum now, which no mortal axe 
 can cut down or lop, and no earthly fire consume ? 
 Ha ! witch ! where be tlie broad double channels and 
 the rapid and cool streams of the river Calor ? If 
 they flowed by thee close as they used to do when 
 thou wast perched on that witch-tree, high as is thy 
 tower, wouldst not leap headlong into the deep water? 
 Ha ! accursed daughter of Leutarde Iconoclastes, 
 wouldst call upon the saints whose blessed effigies 
 were broken by thy father's sledge-hammer ! What ! 
 dost scream and raise thy skinny hands to Heaven ? 
 'Tis vain, 'tis vain ! the saints in Heaven will not hear 
 thee, so down with thy hands towards earth and the 
 fiery plain, and invoke the fiends to whom thou hast 
 sold thy soul. So ! so ! the fire catcheth and thy 
 tower of Avood crackles in the flames, and the flames 
 mount upward and embrace thee round about and 
 lick thee with their blistering tongues ! Ha ! shriek 
 and writhe ! these flames give only a mild foretaste of 
 thine eternal doom. These flames be but fed with 
 dry rushes and fen-grass, and the wood of the oak 
 and pine ; but the unquenchable flames of the nether- 
 most pit are fed with brimstone and naphtha. See ! 
 the tower falls and she is consumed, flesh and bones, 
 in the hissing fire ! — and so perish all witches ! ' 
 
 Thus spake Girolamo of Salerno, like the true 
 believer that he was, as the Norman witch was burn- 
 ing. But the hag did not perish alone ; the crackling 
 fire, carried onward by the strong wind, overtaking 
 
THE NORMAN WITCH 279 
 
 and consuming nearly all the Normans that had 
 advanced with her into the plains to set up her 
 accursed tower. Ivo Taille-Bois, with the rest of 
 the Norman host, had stopped at the ford where the 
 witcli had crossed before she came into the plain ; but 
 when he saw the fire kindled and roll across the fen 
 almost as rapidly as the waters of a mighty cataract, 
 and saw the smoke arise and shut out the sight of the 
 blessed sun, Ivo turned and fled, and every man with 
 him fled in wild dismay, nor stopped until they came 
 to the castle by Cam-Bridge. And the ford where 
 the hag crossed over into the plain is called unto this 
 day Witchford. 
 
 And when the fire which Girolamo had lit had 
 burned itself out, and the smoke had cleared away, 
 the fierce wind fell and there came on a terrible storm 
 of thunder and lightning ; and when this was over the 
 long delayed rains began to fall in torrents, filling the 
 rivers and brooks and marshpools, and making the 
 whole country once more impassable ; and these rains, 
 intermitting only for brief hours, continued to fall for 
 seven days and seven nights ; and that part of the 
 causeway which had been built by Duke William's 
 orders was undermined and washed away, so that no 
 trace remained of it. And then, while the Normans 
 remained penned up in the castle and in the in- 
 trenched camp, the Lord of Brunn and his Saxons 
 launched their light boats in the rivers and meres, 
 and destroyed all the works which had been built to 
 defend the whole road. Thus in the next year the 
 Conqueror had everything to begin anew. 
 
 In the meanwhile Ivo Taille-Bois gave up the com- 
 mand in despair, and went away to Stamford, where 
 he had left his wife, the Ladie Lucia. During the winter 
 this Vicomte of Spalding made an essay to recover 
 
280 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 possession of the Ladie Lucia's manor-house and 
 
 estates at Spalding; but as the Saxons had still a 
 
 little fleet of barks and the entire command of the 
 
 Welland river, Ivo failed entirely, and was not even 
 
 able to do so much as disturb the tranquillity of the 
 
 good Saxon monks of Crowland. And while the 
 
 Norman vicomte was thus unsuccessful, other and 
 
 great successes attended the Saxon lord. With one 
 
 numerous band collected near his house at Brunn, the 
 
 Lord Hereward found his way across the country as 
 
 far as Newark, where he defeated a great body of 
 
 Normans, and found good spoil ; and after this, with 
 
 another band, drawn mostly from the impenetrable 
 
 bogs of Hollandia, he ascended the Witham as far as 
 
 Boston and there surprised and captured three Norman 
 
 knights, and some three-score Norman men-at-arms. 
 
 And it so chanced that among these three knights 
 
 was that unlucky wooer Geoffroy, the brother of Ivo, 
 
 who had found in some upland part of England a 
 
 Saxon wife and heiress, but one neither so handsome 
 
 nor so rich as the Ladie Alftrude, for it was a widow 
 
 quite old enough to be Sir GeoflTroy's mother, and her 
 
 whole estate was not much larger than one of the 
 
 Ladie Alftrude's farms. Having no money to pay for 
 
 his i-ansom, and his brother having none to give or 
 
 lend him, Geoffroy was sent into the fens and kept 
 
 there as a close prisoner. And before the Lord of 
 
 Brunn had done, he made other members of that 
 
 family know what it Avas to live among the bulrushes. 
 
 But now, having done all these things, and performed 
 
 many other exploits, Hereward, at the approach of 
 
 spring, brought his fair young spouse from Ey to his 
 
 house at Brunn, and a very few days after her arrival 
 
 the ladie gave birth to an heir to the united honours 
 
 of Brunn and Ey. And hereupon followed high 
 
THE NORMAN WITCH 281 
 
 rejoicings, and a christening, and such an hospitable 
 feast as only true Saxon lords knew how to give. The 
 good-hearted Lord Abbat of Crowland baptized the 
 child, and sundry of his monks, and the good prior of 
 Spalding among them, were bidden to the feast. 
 
 ' Elfric, my trusty sword-bearer,' said the Lord 
 of Brunn when the feast was over, ' Elfric, I say, 
 methinks I have given proof, that a man may love 
 and fight, and be a husband and a soldier, at one 
 and the same time, and that if we are to put off thy 
 espousal day with maid Mildred until this war be 
 over, thou wilt run a chance of never being married 
 at all ! • 
 
 ' Good, my lord,' said Elfric, ' this is what I 
 have been thinking for more than these nine months 
 past.' 
 
 'Then beshrew me,' said the Lord of Brunn, 'thou 
 and Mildred shall be made one before the world be a 
 moon older ! ' 
 
 The Lord of Brunn meant what he said ; but 
 Heaven ordered it otherwise. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN. 
 
 William of Normandie sate in his gorgeous hall in 
 the royal citadel of Winchester : the proud crown of 
 England was on his head, and the jewelled sceptre in 
 his hand, and knights, lords, and prelates stood in his 
 presence to do his every bidding, and to tell him that 
 he was the greatest of conquerors and sovereign 
 princes ; yet a cloud was on his broad brow, and his 
 face was sad and thoughtful. 
 
 'I am no king of England,' said he^ ' so long as 
 this Hereward the Saxon holds out against me or 
 lives ! This sceptre is a child's plaything unless I 
 can drive the Saxons out of the Camp of Refuge ! ' 
 
 ' The robbers and outlaws shall be driven out,' said 
 Hugo of Grantmesnil. 
 
 ' Hugo,' said the duke, ' it is five years since thou 
 first toldest me that, and the camp seems stronger 
 now than ever it was.' 
 
 *^If it were not for the drowning waters, and the 
 sinking bogs, and all the abominations of those fens 
 and forests, which are fit only for Saxon hogs to 
 wallow in, the deed were easy to do,' said Peter of 
 Blainville. 
 
 'Be it easy or be it hard,' quoth Duke William, 
 ' the deed must be done, or we must all prepare to go 
 back into Normandie, and give up all that we have 
 
 282 
 
THE NORxMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 283 
 
 gotten ! It bots us little to have bought off the greedy 
 Dane ; for Philip of France, whom some do call my 
 suzerain lord, is one that will prefer conquest to 
 money ; and Philip is not only threatening my 
 dominions in Normandie, but is also leaguing with 
 mine enemies in this island ; he is corresponding 
 with the king of the Scots^ and with Edgar Etheling 
 the Saxon, and guest and brother-in-law to the Scottish 
 king ; and if this rebellion in the fen country be not 
 soon suppressed, we may soon count upon seeing 
 a French army upon the coast, and a Scottish army 
 marching through the north ; and then the wild men 
 will rush from the mountains of Wales and invade us 
 in the west, as they have done aforetime ; and there- 
 upon will ensue a universal rising of the Saxon people, 
 who are nowhere half subdued. By the splendour ! 
 while these things last I am no king ! ' 
 
 One of the Norman prelates lifted up his voice and 
 asked, whether the offer of a free pardon, and the 
 promise of a large sum of money, would not make 
 Hereward the Saxon abandon the Saxon cause, and 
 desert from the Camp of Refuge ? 
 
 ' By Notre Dame of Bayeux ! ' said Bishop Odo, 
 the warlike and always fighting brother of Duke 
 William, 'by Notre Dame, and by my own sword 
 and soul, this young man Hereward is not like other 
 men ! He hath been offered a free pardon, with 
 possession of his lands, whether his by marriage or 
 inheritance, and he hath been promised as much 
 gold and silver as would pay for a king's ransom ; 
 and yet he hath rejected all this with scorn, and hath 
 vowed, by his uncouth Saxon saints, that so long as 
 a hundred men can be kept together in the fen 
 country, he will never submit, or cease his warfare 
 against the Normans ! ' 
 
284 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' But that devil from beyond the Alps/ said the 
 Norman prelate who had spoken before, 'that rebel 
 to the house of Guiscard^ that necromancer, Girolamo 
 of Salerno, is he not to be bought ? ' 
 
 'It hath been tried,' said Bishop Odo, 'but to no 
 effect. That Italian devil is more athirst for Norman 
 blood than is the Saxon devil. Before he quitted his 
 home and fled beyond seas to seek out new enemies 
 to our race, he gained a name which still makes the 
 bravest of our Normans in Italic say a Libera iws 
 when they utter it ! We will burn him alive when 
 we catch him, but until that hour comes there is 
 nothing to hope and much to fear from him, for he 
 hath given up his life and soul to vengeance, and he 
 hath more skill in the art of war, and is more versed 
 in the diabolical arts of magic, than any other man 
 upon earth.' 
 
 ' But what of the Saxon Abbat of Ely ? ' said the 
 prelate who had before spoken about the efficacy of 
 bribes, ' what of this Thurstan ? ' 
 
 ' There is not a stubborner Saxon out of liell,' 
 replied Odo, Bishop of Bayeux ; ' he hath been tried 
 long since. Thou mightest as well attempt to bribe 
 the raging sea ! Thou mightest grill him on a grid- 
 ii'on like Saint Lawrence, or tear him into small 
 pieces with iron pinchers like Saint Agatha, and he 
 would only curse us and our conquest, and pray for 
 the usurper Harold, whom the fools firmly believe to 
 be alive ! ' 
 
 ' But,' said the other prelate, ' among the other 
 clownish monks of Ely, may there not be found 
 a ' 
 
 ' Peace ! ' said Duke William, ' that hath been 
 thought of already, and perhaps something may come 
 of it — that is, if ye be but silent and discreet. Ye 
 
THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 285 
 
 are all too loud-tongued, and overmuch given to talk- 
 ing ; and these walls, though raised by Norman hands, 
 may yet have Saxon ears ! Retire we to the inner- 
 most council chamber.' 
 
 And William rose and Avithdrew to the innermost 
 room, and tiiose who had the right followed, and the 
 chamberlains closed the door and kept guard on the 
 outside, and the heavy door-curtains were drawn 
 within so that none might approach the door, and 
 not even the chamberlains hear what passed inside. 
 That secret council lasted till a late hour of the 
 evening. The words which were said be not known, 
 but the things determined upon were made known 
 but too soon. It was the eve of Saint Mark the 
 Evangelist, and, before the feast of Saint Bede the 
 Venerable, Duke William was again at Cam-Bridge, 
 and with a far greater army and train than he had 
 sent tliither the j)receding year ; and at the same time 
 a great fleet of ships and barks began to be prepared 
 in the London river. No more witches were sent for, 
 but William called over many more experienced 
 warriors from France, and ordered barks to be equipped 
 in the rivers and ports of Normandie. The traitorous 
 Dane had told him that he must leave his war horses 
 in their stalls, and think of ships and boats, if he 
 would drive the amphibious Saxon out of the fen 
 countiy. 
 
 While the banner of William floated over the Julius 
 Tower, or Keep, on the tall mound by Cam-Bridge, 
 country hinds and labourers of all sorts, and horses 
 and draught oxen, and mules and asses too numerous 
 to count, were collected within the fortified camp ; 
 and again timber and stones and burned bricks were 
 brought from all parts of the land, and in greater 
 abundance than before. For several weeks nothing 
 
286 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 was heard but tlie sawing of wood and the hewing and 
 chipping of stone, and a loud and incessant hammer- 
 ing. A stranger to the history and present woes of 
 England might have thought that the Normans were 
 going to build a Tower of Babel, or that, penitent for 
 the mischief they had done, they were going to 
 rebuild the town at Cam-Bridge, in order to bring 
 back the affrighted muses, and the houseless professors 
 of learning, and the pining English students to 
 sumptuous inns and halls. In truth there seemed 
 work and stuff enough to furnish out a great city 
 altogether new. But, upon a near view, a knowing 
 eye would have seen that all this toil was for the 
 making of engines of war, of towers to place along 
 the causeway, of bridges to throw across the streams, 
 and of other ponderous machines to aid the Normans 
 in crossing the fens, and in carrying the horrors of 
 war into the last asylum of Saxon liberty. 
 
 And while they travailed thus on the south side of 
 the Island of Ely under the watchful and severe eye of 
 Duke William, other Normans and other Saxon serfs 
 (poor slaves constrained to this unpalatable task) 
 laboured in the north under the eyes of various chiefs 
 who had been promised in fiefs all the lands which 
 they should conquer. With such of the ships and 
 barks of the fleet as were first ready, a host was 
 sent up the Wash and up the fen waters as high as 
 Wisbech ; and these ships carried with them good 
 store of timber and other materials, and, besides the 
 soldiei's, many good builders, who began foi'thwith to 
 build a causeway and a castle at Wisbech. Thus 
 threatened on both faces of the fen country, Eord 
 Hereward had much to do : but he flew from side to 
 side as the occasion called for his presence ; and, 
 with the aid of Girolamo, that cunning man, and the 
 
THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 287 
 
 willing and ready labour of the fen people, he speedily 
 built up another castle, partly of wood and partly of 
 earth and turves, to face the Normans' castle at 
 Wisbech, and to render their causeway there of none 
 avail : and is not the ruin of this castle seen even in 
 our day ? And is it not called Castle Here ward ? 
 And do not the now happy and peaceful fenners relate 
 how many assaults and bickerings and battles took 
 place on the spot ? 
 
 When his own preparations were well advanced on 
 the side of the river Cam, Duke William sent his 
 half-brother Robert, whom he had made Earl of 
 Moreton, to take more ships and men, and go from 
 the river Thamesis to the Wash and the new castle 
 at Wisbech, and there tarry quietly until the day 
 next after the Festival of Saint John the Baptist, 
 when he was to attack Castle Hereward with all his 
 force, and press into the Isle of Ely from the north, 
 while he, the Duke, should be preparing to invade 
 the island from the south. But this Count Robert, 
 being but a gross and dull-witted man, did not com- 
 prehend all the meaning of his orders, and because 
 he reached Wisbech Castle sooner than had been 
 expected, and got all ready to fight two days before 
 Saint John's Day, he must needs fall on at once. 
 Now the Lord of Brunn, with one eye upon Count 
 Robert, and one upon Duke William, gathered great 
 force to a head at Castle Hereward, beat the dull- 
 witted man, slew with the edge of the sword or drove 
 into the fens more than half his knights and men-at- 
 arms, set the new castle at Wisbech in a blaze, and 
 bunied a good part of it, and was back at Ely and 
 with the Saxon army in the great camp before Count 
 Robert had recovered from his amaze, and long before 
 Duke William could learn anything of the matter. 
 
288 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 And so it chanced that wlien, on the day next after 
 Saint John's Day, Duke WilHam moved with his 
 mighty host and machines of war from the castle at 
 Cam-Bridge towards the Camp of Refuge, in the full 
 belief that the attention of the Saxons would be all 
 distracted, and that Hereward, their great leader, 
 would be away on the shores of the Wash and hotly 
 engaged with Count Robert, the bold Lord of Brunn 
 had his eye solely upon him, and with men elate 
 with victory was watching his approach, even as he 
 had long been watching and preparing for it. The 
 broken old road was repaired, and the now diminished 
 streams were made passable by means of the Avooden 
 bridges which the Norman soldiers carried or caused 
 to be carried with them, and by throwing down 
 stones, and timber, and bricks, and dry earth in 
 strong wooden frames, Duke William, after three 
 days of cruel labour and toils, which killed many of 
 his people, got within sight of the deep waters of 
 Ely, and caught a distant view of the Witchford, 
 where his Norman witch had crossed over. But the 
 ford was now guarded by a double castle, or double 
 fort ; the one on this side of the sti'eam, and the other 
 on that ; and the further bank and the plain 
 beyond it seemed, as the Duke approached a little 
 nearer, to be covered with a Saxon army, and with 
 trophies taken from the Normans. Onward, however, 
 he went until he saw the banner of his half-brother 
 Count Robert held out over the wooden walls of the 
 Saxons ; but then he understood full well what had 
 befallen his people at Wisbech ; and so, like the per- 
 severing and prudent commander that he was, he 
 ordered an immediate retreat. But it passed his 
 skill and his might to conduct this retreat in a safe 
 and orderly manner; the Normans got confused, and 
 
THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 289 
 
 Herewanl, crossing at the ford, charged through thick 
 and thin, through bog and dry ground, and along the 
 temporary causeway which had been made : the bridges 
 of wood broke down under excess of weight ; Duke 
 WiUiam himself fell into deep water and was nearly 
 drowned, and many of his people were wholly drowned 
 or smothered, while many more were slain by the 
 sword or taken prisoners. And still the bold Saxons, 
 as they followed, shouted ' Hereward for England ! 
 Stop, thou Bastard William ! Thou art running as fast 
 as thy brother Robert ran from Castle Hereward ! * 
 
 After this misadventure Duke William judged moi'e 
 favourably of the conduct of his many commanders 
 who had failed in the same enterprise ; and seeing all 
 the difficulties of the war, and the inexhaustible 
 resources of that cunning captain, the Lord of Brunn, 
 he called a council in the castle at Cam-Bridge, and 
 there determined to try no more battles and assaults, 
 but to rely solely upon a close blockade of the Isle of 
 Ely. Forthwith orders were sent to all the com- 
 manders of posts round the fen country (the dull- 
 witted Count Robert was recalled from Wisbech, and 
 an abler captain sent to that vicinage) to strengthen 
 themselves in their several positions by building towers 
 and walls, and digging trenches, and by inci'easing the 
 numbers of their men-at-arms ; but at the same time 
 they were strictly commanded to make no movement 
 beyond the limits of their defensive works, however 
 great the temptation to attack the Saxons might be. 
 The great fleet so long collecting in the river Thamesis, 
 and which was in good part composed of English 
 vessels which the Danes had captured and then sold to 
 Duke William, was sent round the coast well filled 
 with fighting men, and piloted by some of those 
 Danish mariners and sea-rovers who knew so well all 
 
290 THE CAiMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the bays and rivers on this eastern coast ; and by the 
 end of the month of July, or a little before the Feast 
 of Saint Ethelwold, every station on the coast, from 
 the mouth of the Orwell to the broader mouth of the 
 river Humber, was watched and guai'ded, and every 
 estuary, river, or creek that gave egress from the fen 
 country was blocked up by ships and barks, in such 
 sort that the Saxons in the Camp of Refuge could no 
 longer have any communication with the sea, or with 
 the countries beyond the sea, from whence they had 
 been wont to draw arms and munitions of war, and 
 corn, wines, and oil, and other supplies. By the same 
 means all aid and friendly intercourse were completely 
 cut off; the good Saxons dwelling in a sort of in- 
 dependence on the northern shores of England, and 
 the good Englishmen that had fled into Scotland, 
 could no longer send their barks up the Wash and the 
 Ouse with provisions and comfort for the house of Ely 
 and the Camp ; and thus the whole Isle of Ely was 
 cut off, by land and by water, from all the rest of the 
 world, and was girded by a mighty chain, the links of 
 which seemed every day to grow stronger. 
 
 Many were the bold essays which the Lord of 
 Brunn made to break up this blockade. Twice, 
 descending the Ouse, or the Welland, with the barks 
 he had stationed at Ely, and near to Spalding, he 
 defeated and drove away the enemy's ships, and 
 burned some of them with that unquenchable fire 
 which the Salernitan knew how to make ; but after 
 these actions the Normans and their shipmen became 
 more watchful and cautious, keeping outside of the 
 mouths of the rivers, and continuing to increase their 
 force ; for other ships and barks, both great and 
 small, came over from Normandie, and others were 
 hired for this service among the sea-dwelling Nether- 
 
THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 291 
 
 landers, who seemed evermore disposed to serve 
 whatever faction could pay them best. And alas ! 
 the Normans had now their hands in the great and 
 ever-filling treasury of broad England, and the true 
 sons of England, whether at Ely or in the Camp, 
 had no longer any gold or silver, or any means of 
 sending forth that which can bring back money or 
 the money's worth. Horned cattle had they still in 
 some abundance, nor was there, as yet, any scarcity 
 in sheep, or in wool, or in hides ; but of corn to 
 make the bread, which is the staff of life, and of 
 wine, which maketh glad the heart of man, was 
 there little or none left in this part of the land ; 
 forasmuch as that the fen country did not grow 
 much corn at any season, and the last season had 
 been one of dearth, and only a few butts of wine had 
 been brought over since the departure of the Danes, 
 owing to the lack of money above mentioned. Those 
 sea-rovers, having drunk almost the last drop of 
 wine as well as carried off the last treasures of the 
 house, had greatly disheartened and troubled many 
 of the monks of Ely, and murmurs, and censures, 
 and base thoughts now began to rise among several 
 of the cloister monks who, down to this evil time, 
 had been the steadiest friends of the Lord Abbat, 
 Thurstan. Truly, truly, their trial was hard, and 
 difficult for true Saxon stomachs to bear ! The 
 octave of Saint John had come and passed without 
 anything that could be called a feast : on the day 
 of Saint Joseph of Arimathea they had no wine to 
 drink, and on the day of that high Saxon saint, 
 Osevald, king and martyr, they had no bread to eat 
 with their roast meats. These were sad things to a 
 brotherhood that had been wont to fare so well, and 
 whose feasts, it hath been said by our old poet (a 
 
292 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 monk of the liouse), were as superior to the feasts 
 of all the other monasteries of England as day is 
 superior to night : — 
 
 Pnevisis aliis, Elieusia festa videre 
 Est, quasi pnievisa uocte, videre diem. 
 
 Yet the bountiful Abbat Thurstan, who had given 
 the best feasts of all that the house had ever known, 
 and who loved as much as any man to see the drinking- 
 horn go round, kept up his good spirit without wine — 
 it was sustained by his generous love of country and 
 liberty ! — and he reasoned well with those he heard 
 murmur, and yet held out to them the prospect of 
 better times when corn should come in from the 
 upland country in abundance, and good wine from 
 beyond sea. 
 
 If want began to be felt among the monks of Ely, 
 it is not to be believed but that it was felt still more 
 sharply among the Saxon fighting men collected in the 
 Camp of Refuge. But the stomachs of these warriors 
 were not so dainty as the stomachs of the monks, and 
 the commonalty of them, being accustomed to fare 
 hard before now, made no complaint. Alas, no ! It 
 was not through the malecontent of these rude men, 
 nor through these lay stomachs, but through the malice 
 and gluttony of cloister-monks, that the sanctuary was 
 violated. 
 
 Tlie Lord of Brunn having emptied his own granaries 
 and cellars for the behoof of the liouse at Ely, made 
 sundry very desperate forays, breaking through the 
 Norman chain of posts, and going far in the upland 
 countiy in search of supplies, and risking his noble 
 life, more than once, for nought but a sack of wheat, or 
 a cask of ale, or a firkin of mead. While the blockade 
 was as yet young, a few devout pilgrims, who would 
 
THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 293 
 
 not be shut out from the shrines of the Saxon saints at 
 Ely, nor fail to offer up their little annual offerings, and 
 a few sturdy friends who knew the straits to which the 
 monks were about to be reduced, eluded the vigilance 
 of the Normans, and found their way, through those 
 mazes of waters and labyrinths of woods, to the abbey, 
 and carried with them some small supplies : but as 
 time went on and the force of the Normans increased 
 as well by land as by water, these hazardous journeys 
 were stopped, and divers of the poor Saxons were 
 caught, and were then pitilessly hanged as rebels and 
 traitors ; and then a law was banded that every man, 
 woman, or child, that attempted to go through the 
 fen country, either to Ely Abbey or the Cauip of 
 Refuge, would be hanged or crucified. But, alack ! 
 real traitors to their country were afterwards allowed 
 to pass the Norman posts, and go on to Ely Abbey, and 
 it was through their agency and the representations of 
 some of the Normans that were taken prisoners in war 
 and carried to the monastery, that the envious prior, 
 and the chamberlain, and the cellarer, and the rest of 
 that foul faction were emboldened to raise their voice 
 publicly against the good Abbat, and to lay snares in 
 the path of the Lord of Brunn. Now the same troubles 
 arose out of the same causes in Crowland Abbey, 
 where sundry of the cloister monks began to say that 
 since they could get no bread and wine it were best to 
 make terms with the Norman Abbat of Peterborough 
 (that Torauld of Fescamp who had been released upon 
 ransom, and was again making himself terrible), give 
 up the cause of Lord Hereward, who had restored 
 them to their house, and had given up wealth and 
 honours abroad to come and serve his country, and 
 submit like peaceable subjects of King William, whose 
 power was too great to be any longer disputed. But 
 
294. THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 here, at Crowland, these things were for a long time 
 said in great secrecy, and whispered in the dormitories 
 by night. It was the same in the succursal cell at 
 Spalding; and the coming danger was the greater 
 from the secrecy and mystery of the traitorous part of 
 these communities. Father Ad helm, the good prior of 
 Spalding, knew of no danger, and could believe in no 
 treachery until the Philistines were upon him ; and it 
 was mainly owing to this his security, and to his repre 
 sentations of the safety of that corner of the fens, that 
 the Lord of Brunn sent his wife and infant son, with 
 maid Mildred and other women, to dwell in the strong: 
 manor-house at Spalding, which belonged to the Ladie 
 Lucia, wife of Ivo Taille-Bois, and cousin to the Ladie 
 Alftrude. The Camp of Refuge and the town of Ely 
 had not, for some time past, been fitting abiding-place 
 for ladies and delicate children ; but now the Normans 
 were closing in their line of blockade on that side, and, 
 although they meant it not, they seemed to be on the 
 eve of making a desperate assault on the Camp, having, 
 with incredible labour, laid down under the eyes and 
 with the direction of Duke William, another causeway, 
 which was far broader and more solid than any of the 
 others, and which ran across the fens towards the 
 waters of Ely for the distance of two well-measured 
 miles. It Avas Elfric that commanded the party which 
 gave convoy to the Ladie Alftrude ; and well we wot 
 he wished the journey had been a longer one : yet 
 when his duty was done, and the whole party safely 
 lodged in the battlemented and moated house at Spald- 
 ing, he quitted maid Mildred, though with something 
 of a heavy heart, and hastened back to join his toil- 
 oppressed master. And careworn and toil-oppressed 
 indeed was now that joyous and frank-hearted Lord of 
 Brunn, for he had to think of everything, and to pro- 
 
THE NORMAN DUKE TRIES AGAIN 295 
 
 vide for everything ; and save in Girolamo the Saler- 
 nitan, and Elfric his armour-bearer, he had but few 
 ready-witted men to aid him in his increasing difficul- 
 ties. Nevertheless, the defences at the Witchford were 
 strengthened, numerous trenches and canals were dug 
 to render the Witch plain impassable, even if the river 
 should be crossed, and bands of Saxons, armed with 
 bows, bills, pole-axes, swords and clubs, or long fen- 
 poles, were kept on the alert by night as well as by 
 day, to march to any point which the Normans might 
 attack. 
 
 Now, we have said it, William the Norman was a 
 great and cunning commander (ye might have searched 
 through the world at that time, and have found none 
 greater !), and being thus skilled, and having a fearless 
 heart withal, and a sort of lion magnanimity, he was 
 proper to judge of the skill of other captains, and not 
 incapable of admiring and lauding that skill even in an 
 enemy. And as from his causeway (even as from a 
 ship in the midst of the waters) he watched the 
 defences which Hereward raised, and all the rapid and 
 wise movements he made, he ofttiiTies exclaimed, ' By 
 the splendour ! this Saxon is a right cunning captain ! 
 It were worth half a realm could I win him over to 
 my service. But, O Hei'eward, since thou wilt not 
 submit, thou must perish in thy pride through hunger, 
 or in the meshes which I am spreading for thee.' 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 
 
 As no corn camC;, and no wine could be had, the 
 tribulations and murmurings in the monastery grew 
 louder and louder. Certain of the monks had never 
 looked with a friendly eye upon Girolamo the Saler- 
 nitan, but now there was suddenly raised an almost 
 universal clamour among them that that dark-visaged 
 and thin-bodied alien was, and ever had been, a necro- 
 mancer. Unmindful of the many services he had done, 
 and forgetting how many times they had, when the 
 drinking-horns could be well filled, rejoiced and jubil- 
 ated at his successes, and specialUer on that not far by- 
 gone day when he had burned the Norman witch, in 
 the midst of her incantations, with the reeds and grass 
 of the fen, the monks now called him by the foulest 
 and most horrible of all names, and some of them even 
 called out for his death. These men said that if 
 Girolamo were brought to the stake and burned as he 
 had burned the Norman witch, the wrath of Heaven 
 would be appeased, and matters would go much better 
 with the house of St. Etheldreda, and with all the 
 English people. Albeit they all knew how innocently 
 those devils had been made ; and, albeit they had seen 
 with their own eyes that Girolamo was constant at 
 prayers, mass, and confession, and that he never pre- 
 pared his mixtures and compounds until after prayer 
 
 296 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 297 
 
 and long fasting (to say nothing of his frequently 
 partaking in the Sacrament of our Lord's Supper), they 
 rumoured, even like the Normans, that he had raised 
 devils, and employed fen-fiends, and incubuses, and 
 succubuses, and had lit hell-fires upon the pools and 
 within the holy house at Crowland ; that he was ever 
 attended by a demon, called by him Chemeia ; that he 
 had been a Jew, and next a follower of Mahound ; that 
 he had sold his soul to the devil of devils at Jerusalem 
 or Mecca : that he did not eat and drink like Saxons 
 and Christians, only because he went to graves and 
 charnel-houses at the dead of night, and feasted upon 
 the bodies of the dead with his fiends and hell- 
 hounds — with a great deal more too horrible and 
 obscene to mention. 
 
 Now before a breath of this bad wind reached him, 
 Girolamo had begun to gi'ow a-weary of the fen 
 country ; and but for his deadly hatred to the Norman 
 race and his great love for the Lord of Brunn, he would 
 have quitted it and England long before this season, 
 to wander again into some sunny climate. Ofttimes 
 would he say to himself in his solitary musings : ' O 
 flat, wet, and fenny land, shall mine eyes never more 
 behold a mountain ? O fogs, and vapours, and clouds 
 for ever dropping rain, shall I never see a bright blue 
 sky again .'' O fireless, watery sun, scarcely brighter 
 or warmer than the moon in my own land beyond the 
 Alps and the Apennines, shall I never see thee 
 again in thy glory .'' Am I to perish in these swamps 
 — to be buried in a bog ? Oh for one glimpse, before 
 I die, of mine own blue mountains, and bright blue 
 seas and skies ! — one glance at thy bay, O beautiful 
 Salerno, and at the mountain of Saint Angelo and the 
 hills of Amalfi, at the other mountains, and hills, and 
 olive-groves, and gay vineyards that gird thee in ! 
 
298 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 There be no hills here but mud-banks ; no trees but 
 dull alders and willows. But courage, sinking heart, 
 or sinking, shivering frame, for there is food here for 
 my revenge ; there be Normans here to circumvent 
 and kill ! ' 
 
 So did the Salernitan commune with himself in his 
 many lonely hours (many because he sought them 
 and avoided the society of men) before the evil 
 tongues were wagged against him. Upon his first 
 hearing what the monks were then beginning to say 
 of him, he only muttered to himself, ' This is a dull- 
 witted generation that I have fallen among ! These 
 Saxons go still on all-fours ! They are but ultra- 
 montanes and barbarians, knowing nothing of the 
 history of past ages, or of the force and effect of the 
 natural sciences ! Dolts are they all except the Lord 
 Hereward, and his share of wit is so great that none 
 is left for his countrymen. But Hereward is worthy 
 of ancient Rome ; and it is not the stupid sayings of 
 his people that will make me quit his side and 
 disappoint my vengeance. I have done these same 
 Saxons some good service, and I will do them more 
 before I die or go hence. They will think better of 
 me when they know more of me, and of the natural 
 means wherewith I work mine ends. Ha ! ha ! I 
 needs must laugh when I hear that Girolamo of 
 Salerno, the witch-seeker and the destroyer of witches, 
 the sworn foe to all magic save the Magia Alba, which 
 is no magic at all, but only science, should be named 
 as a wizard and necromancer ! Oh ! ye good doctors, 
 and teachers of Salerno who flourished and began to 
 make a school for the study of Nature before the 
 Normans came among us, think of this — think of your 
 pupil, penitent, and devotee, being taken in these dark 
 septentrional regions for a sorcerer ! Ha ! ha ! ' 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 299 
 
 But when Girolamo saw that the Saxon people 
 were beginning to avoid him as one that had the pest, 
 and that the monks of Ely Avere pointing at him with 
 the finger, and that silent tongues and angry eyes, 
 with crossings and spittings on the ground and coarse 
 objurgations, met him wherever he went, he grew 
 incensed and spoke freely with the Lord of Brunn 
 about it. 
 
 'Girolamo, my friend and best coadjutor,' said 
 the Lord of Brunn, ' think nothing of it ! This is 
 but the talk of ignorance or malice. Beshrew me an 
 I do not think that the Normans have gotten some 
 traitor to raise this babel and thereby injure us. But 
 the Lord Abbat Thurstan, who hath shrieved and 
 assoiled thee so often, will now answer for the purity 
 of thy faith as for his own, and will silence these 
 murmurers.' 
 
 But it was not so : Hereward made too large an 
 account not of the good will, but of the power of 
 Thurstan, not knowing all that passed in the chapters 
 of the house, nor so much as suspecting half of the 
 cabals that were framing in secret meetings and in 
 close discussions by night in the dormitories. No 
 sooner had the Loi'd Abbat begun to reprehend such 
 as spoke evil of the Salernitan, than the factious and 
 false parts of the monks declared among themselves 
 that. Christian prelate as he was, he had linked him- 
 self with a sorcerer ; and in charges they had already 
 prepared, and with great privacy written down upon 
 parchment, they inserted this : that Abbat Thurstan, 
 unmindful of the duties of his holy office, and in 
 contempt of the remonstrances of the prior, the 
 chamberlain, and others, the majority of the house of 
 Ely, had made himself the friend and defensor of the 
 said Girolamo of Salerno, that dark mysterious man 
 
300 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 who had notoriously sold himself to the arch-fiend^ 
 Avho had gone into the depths and iniquities of necro- 
 mancy beyond all precedent, and who had, by his truly 
 diabolical art, raised devils, trafficked with witches, and 
 brought hell-fires upon earth. 
 
 It was at this juncture of time that two pretended 
 pilgrims and devotees of Saint Etheldreda arrived at 
 the guest-house of Ely, giving out that they had with 
 great risk and real danger found their way through 
 the lines of the beleaguering Normans, but that, so 
 entire was their devotion to the saint, no jierils could 
 prevent them from coming to the shrine. It was not 
 much noted at the time, but it was well remembered 
 afterwards, and when it was all too late, that these 
 two palmers spent much more of their time in walk- 
 ing and talking outside the abbey walls with the 
 prior and the chamberlain, than in praying inside the 
 church and in the chapel of the saint ; that they 
 seemed to shun the Lord Abbat, and that they took 
 their departure in a sudden manner, and without 
 taking leave of the Abbat as good pilgrims were wont 
 to do. And almost immediately after the departure 
 of the two false palmers, a proclamation was made 
 by sound of trumpet and by Duke William's orders^ 
 that the Abbat of Ely, having leagued himself with 
 a sorcerer (having long before leagued himself with 
 traitors and rebels and robbers), had incurred the 
 anathemas of the Church, which would soon be pro- 
 nounced upon him by bell, book, and candle, and 
 with all the formalities in use. And after this had 
 been proclaimed by sound of trumpet in the Camp, 
 and at the cross of the town of Cam-Bridge, and at 
 the crosses of Peterborough, Huntingdon, Stamford, 
 and many other town, the cloister monks most ad- 
 verse to the Lord Abbat began to throw off all secrecy 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 301 
 
 and disguise, and to talk as loud as trumpets both 
 in the streets of Ely and in the monastery, calling 
 Girolamo a sorcerer and worse. Upon this the dark 
 Salernitan came up from the Camp to the monastery, 
 and demanded to be heard in the church or in the 
 hall, in the presence of the whole house. Thurstan, 
 with right good will, assented ; and although some of 
 the monks tried to oppose it, Gii'olamo was admitted 
 to plead his own defence and justification in the 
 great hall. It was the envious prior's doing, but the 
 novices and all the younger monks were shut out, for 
 the prior feared greatly the effect of the speech of 
 the Salernitan, who by this time had made himself 
 master of the Saxon tongue, while in the Latin 
 tongue and in Latin quotations, Girolamo had few 
 equals on this side the Alps. He presented himself 
 alone, having forcibly and successfully opposed the 
 Lord Hereward, who would fain have accompanied 
 him to the abbey. 
 
 ' If you should be with me,' he had said to the 
 Lord of Brunn, ' they will impute it to me, in case of 
 my effacing these vile stigmas, that I have only been 
 saved by your favour and interference, or by the respect 
 and awe which is due to you, or by the dread they 
 entertain of your arms ; and should I fail in my 
 defence, they might afterwards work you great mischief 
 by representing you as mine advocate. No ! good my 
 Lord, alone will I stand upon my defence, and bring 
 down confusion upon these calumniators ! ' 
 
 And thus it was all alone that the dark and thin 
 and sad Salernitan entered the great hall, in the 
 midst of a coughing and spitting, and an uplifting 
 and a turning away of eyes, as if the monks felt 
 sulphur in their gorges, and saw some fearful and 
 supernatural object with their eyes. Nothing abashed, 
 
302 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the Salernitan threw off the black mantle which he 
 ordmarily wore, and stepping into the midst of the 
 hall — the monks being seated all round him — he 
 made the blessed sign of the crosSj threw up his 
 hands for a moment as if in prayer, and then spoke. 
 And when he first began to speak, although he more 
 immediately faced the abbat and his friendly honest 
 countenance, his coal-black eyes, which seemed all of 
 a blaze, rested and were fixed upon the envious false 
 visage of the prior, who wriggled in his seat, and 
 whose eyes were bent upon the ground, all unable to 
 encounter the burning glances of that animated, irate 
 Italian. 
 
 ' My good Lord Abbat,' said Girolamo, looking, as 
 we have said, not at Thurstan, but at the prior, 
 ' what is this horrid thing that I hear ? What are 
 these evil rumours which have been raised against 
 me, while I have been adventuring my life for the 
 service of this house and the good Saxon cause ? ' 
 
 'There hath been some idle talk about sortilege, 
 and it grieves me to say that this idle talk hath 
 of late become very loud in this house,' responded 
 Thurstan. 
 
 ' And who be they who first raised this talk ? ' said 
 Girolamo ; ' where are my accusers .'' Who are the 
 members of this house that have not seen as well 
 my devotion to Heaven as the earthly and natural 
 and legitimate means by which I have worked out 
 mine ends for the furtherance of the good cause .'' 
 Where are they, that I may speak to them and tell 
 them to their faces how much they have erred or how 
 greatly they have lied ? But they dare not look me 
 in the face ! ' 
 
 And as he said these words he turned his burning eyes 
 from the prior to the chamberlain, and then from the 
 
MONKS OF ELY COiMPLAIN AND PLOT 303 
 
 chamberlain to anothe cankerous monk, and to another, 
 and another, and they all pulled their cowls over their 
 brows and looked down upon the floor. 
 
 But at last the chamberlain found voice and courage 
 enough to raise his head a little ; and he said, ' O 
 stranger ! since thy first coming amongst us thou hast 
 done things most strange — so strange that wise and 
 good men have thought they have seen the finger of 
 the devil in it.' 
 
 Quoth the Salernitan, ' It was to do strange things 
 that I came hither, and it was because I could do 
 them that the brave and pious Lord of Brunn brought 
 me with him to bear part in a contest which was 
 desperate before we came. But I tell thee, O monk, 
 that all of even the strangest things I have done have 
 been done by legitimate and natural means, and by 
 that science which I have acquired by long study and 
 much fasting, and much travelling in far-off countries, 
 where many things are known which are as yet un- 
 known in these thy boreal regions. To speak not of 
 the marvels I have witnessed in the East, I tell thee, 
 Saxon, that I have seen the doctors who teach, or 
 who used to teach, in the schools of my native town 
 before the Norman barbarians came among us, do 
 things that would make thy dull eyes start out of 
 their sockets, and the hair stand erect round thy 
 tonsure ; and yet these doctors and teachers were 
 members of that Christian Church to which thou, 
 and I, and all of us belong — were doctors in divinity, 
 and priests, and confessors, and men of holy lives ; 
 and it never passed through their bright and pure 
 minds that what the ignorant could not understand 
 should be imputed to them or to their scholars as a 
 crime. Saxon, I say, take the beam of ignorance out 
 of thine eye, and then wilt thou see that man can do 
 
304 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 marvellous things without magic or the aid of the 
 devil. The real wizard or witch is the lowest and 
 most benighted of mankind, and necromancy can be 
 employed only for the working out of wicked and 
 detestable ends. But what was and what is the end 
 I have in view .'' Is it wicked to defend this house 
 and the shrines of your national saints from violence 
 and spoliation ? Is it detestable in one who hath 
 known in his own person and in his own country the 
 woes of foreign conquest^ to devote his sword and his 
 life, his science, and all the little that is his, to the 
 cause of a generous people struggling against fearful 
 odds for their independence, and fighting for their 
 own against these Norman invaders ! ' 
 
 ' By Saint Etheldreda,' said Abbat Thurstan, ' these 
 ends and objects cannot be sinful ! and as sinful means 
 can be employed only for sinful ends, so can righteous 
 ends be served only by righteous means. Fire mingles 
 with fire, and water with Avater : but fire and water 
 will not mingle or co-exist.' 
 
 And divers of the cloister monks, who had never 
 been touched by the venom that was about to ruin 
 the house of Ely and the whole country of England, 
 took up and repeated the Abbat's words, speaking 
 also of the facts in evidence, as that Girolamo the 
 Salernitan had many times conferred great benefit 
 on the Saxon cause, and the like. And even some of 
 the house who had turned too ready an ear to their 
 own fears, or to the evil and crafty whisperings and 
 suggestions of the prior and his faction, assented to 
 Thurstan's pi'oposition, and said that verily it appeared 
 the Salernitan was free from the damnable guilt 
 wherewith he was charged, and that if he had used 
 any magic at all, it was only that Magia Alba, or 
 White Magic, which proceeded from the study and 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 305 
 
 ingenuity of man, and Avhich might be used without 
 sin. 
 
 Now as these things were said in the hall, the 
 prior, fearing that his plot might be counter-plotted, 
 and the meshes he had woven be torn to pieces, and 
 blown to the winds, waxed very desperate ; and, after 
 whispering for awhile in the ear of the chamberlain 
 who sat by him, he threw his cowl back from his 
 head, and, standing up, spoke passionately. But while 
 the prior spoke he never once looked at Girolamo, 
 who remained standing in the middle of the great 
 hall, firm and erect, and with his arms crossed over 
 his breast. No ! desperate as he was, the prior could 
 not meet the fiery glances of that dark thin man ; and 
 so he either looked at the round and ruddy face of 
 Thurstan, or in the faces of those monks of his own 
 faction who had made up their minds to support him 
 in all that he might say or do. 
 
 ' It seemeth to me,' said the prior, ' that a wicked 
 man may pretend to serve a good cause only for the 
 sake of injuring it, and that a weak man may be 
 brought to believe that good can come out of things 
 that are evil, and that witchcraft and all manner of 
 wickednesses may be employed against an enemy, 
 albeit this is contrary to the doctrine of our Church, 
 and is provocative of the wrath of Heaven. Now, 
 from the first coming of this alien among us, things 
 have gone worse and worse with us. Not but that 
 there have been certain victories and other short 
 glimpses of success, meant only to work upon our 
 ungodly pride, and delude us and make our present 
 misery the keener. When this alien first came, the 
 Lord Abbat liked him not — I need not tell ye, my 
 brethren, that the Lord Abbat said to many of us, 
 that he liked not the looks of the stranger the Lord 
 
306 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Hereward brought with him ; or that I and the 
 cellarius, and many more of us, thought from the 
 beginning that the man was a Jew — an Israehte — 
 yea, one of that accursed race that crucified our 
 Lord! . . .' 
 
 'Liar or idiot/ said the fiery man of Itahe, 'thou 
 wilt be cursed for saying it ! ' 
 
 'That which 1 have said I have said/ quoth the 
 prior ; ' we took thee for a Jew, and the Lord Abbat 
 confessed, then, that thou didst verily look like one, 
 although he hath altered his tone since. And, 
 stranger, I now tell thee to thy face' — but still the 
 prior looked not in Girolamo's face — 'that I believe 
 thou mayest well be that wandering Jew that caiuiot 
 die until the Day of Judgment come.' 
 
 The Salernitan shrieked rather than said, ' This is 
 too horrible, too atrocious ! Malignant monk, wouldst 
 drive me mad, and make me slay thee here in the 
 midst of thy brothers } ' 
 
 ' In this hallowed place I am safe from thy magic 
 and incantations,' said the prior. 
 
 Girolamo could not speak, for the words stuck in 
 his throat, but he would, mayhap, have sprung upon 
 the prior with his dagger, if the Lord Abbat had not 
 instantly raised his hand and his voice, and said : 
 
 ' Peace ! stranger, peace ! Let the prior say all that 
 he hath to say, and then thou shalt answer him. 
 Nay, by Saint Etheldreda ! by Saint Sexburga, and by 
 every saint in our Calendarium, I will answer him 
 too ! For is he not bringing charges against me, and 
 seeking to deprive me of that authority over this 
 house which was given me by heaven, and by King 
 Edward the Confessor, and by the unanimous vote of 
 the brethren of Ely in chapter assembled ? Prior, I 
 have long known what manner of man thou art, and 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 307 
 
 how thou hast been pining and groaning and plotting 
 for my seat and crozier ; but thou art now bolder 
 than thou wast wont to be. 'Tis well ! Therefore 
 speak out, and do ye, my children, give ear unto him. 
 Then speak, prior ! Go on, I say ! ' 
 
 In saying these words. Lord Thurstan was well nigh 
 as much angered as Girolamo had been ; but his anger 
 was of a different kind, and instead of growing deadly 
 pale and ashey like the Salernitan, his face became as 
 red as fire ; and instead of moving and clenching his 
 right hand, as though he would clutch some knife or 
 dagger, he merely struck with his doubled fist upon 
 the table before him, giving the table mighty raps. 
 All this terrified the craven heart of the prior, who 
 stood speechless and motionless, and who Avould have 
 returned to his seat if the cellarer had not approached 
 him and comforted him, and if several cloister monks 
 of the faction had not muttered, ' Go on to the end, 
 O prior ! thou hast made a good beginning.' 
 
 And then the prior said, ' I will go on if they will 
 give me pledge not to interrupt me until I have done.' 
 
 ' I give the pledge,' said the Abbat ; and the 
 Salernitan said, ' The pledge is given.' 
 
 Being thus heartened, the prior went on. ' Gii-olamo 
 the Salernitan,' he said, ' had been seen gnashing his 
 teeth and shooting fire out of his eyes at the elevation 
 of the Most Holy ; had been heard muttering in an 
 miknown tongue behind the high altar, and among 
 the tombs and shrines of the saints ; and also had he 
 often been seen wandering by night, when honest 
 Christians were in their beds, among the graves of 
 the poor of Ely, and gazing at the moon and stars, 
 and talking to some unseen demon. He had never 
 been seen to eat and drink enough to support life ; 
 and therefore it was clear that he saved his stomach 
 
308 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 for midnight orgies in the churchyard with devils 
 and witches. It was not true that all the devils at 
 Crowland were sham devils, for some of the novices 
 and lay-brothers of the house, and some of the clowns 
 of CroAvland town, who had been seduced, and made 
 to disguise themselves in order to give a cover to 
 what was doing, had since declared that, although 
 all their company made only twelve in number, they 
 had seen twice twelve when the infernal lights were 
 lit in the dark cellars of the house where their pranks 
 began ; and it was a notable fact that one of the 
 Crowland hinds, first cousin to Orson the smith, had 
 been so terrified at this increase of number and at 
 all that he had heard and seen on that fearful night, 
 that he had gone distraught, and had never yet 
 recovered it. It was known unto all men how, not 
 only on that night and in that place, but also on 
 many other nights and in many other places, the 
 alien had made smells that were not of earth, nor 
 capable of being made by earthly materials, and had 
 made fire burn upon water, mixing flame and flood ! 
 Now, the Lord Abbat himself had said that fire and 
 water would not mingle ! Nor would they but by 
 magic. The convent would all remember this ! Not 
 content with possessing the diabolical arts himself, 
 Girolamo had imparted them to another. Elfric the 
 sword-bearer, from whom better things might have 
 been expected, considering his training in a godly 
 house, had been seen mixing and using these hellish 
 pi'eparations which he could not have done if he had 
 not first spat upon the cross and covenanted with 
 witches and devils. Nay, so bold-faced had this young 
 man been in his crime that he hath done this openly ! 
 The stranger had been seen many times in battle, and 
 in the thickest of the fight, yet, while the Saxons fell 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 309 
 
 thick around him, and every man that was not killed 
 was wounded, he got no hurt — no not the smallest ! 
 When the arrows came near him they turned aside 
 or fell at his feet without touching him. There was a 
 Norman knight lately a prisoner in the Saxon Camp, 
 who declared that when he was striking at the thin 
 stranger with the certainty of cleaving him with his 
 battle-axe, the axe turned aside in his firm strong hands 
 as though some invisible hand had caught hold of it. 
 Moreover, tliere was a Norman man-at-arms who had 
 solemnly vowed that he had thrust his sword right 
 through the thin body of the alien, had driven the hilt 
 home on his left breast ; and that when he withdrew 
 his sword, instead of falling dead to the earth, the 
 stranger stood erect, laughing scornfully at him, and 
 losing no blood, and showing no sign of any wound. 
 Now all these things fortified the belief that the stranger 
 was the Jew that could not die ! ' 
 
 Seeing that a deep impression was made upon many 
 of his hearers who had gone into the hall with the 
 deteniiination of believing that there had been no 
 magic and that nothing unlawful had been done by 
 the defenders of the liberties of the Saxon people and 
 the privileges of the Saxon Church, the cunning prior 
 turned his attack upon Thurstan. ' It was notorious,' 
 he said, 'that Thurstan had been a profuse and waste- 
 ful abbat of that house, taking no thought of the 
 morrow, but feasting rich and poor when the house 
 was at the poorest ; that he was a man that never kept 
 any balance between what he got and what he gave ; 
 and that he had always turned the deaf side of his 
 head to those discreet brothers the chamberlain, the 
 sacrist, the cellarer and refectorarius, who had long 
 since foretold the dearth and famine which the convent 
 were now suffering.' Here nearly every monk present 
 
310 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 laid his right hand upon his abdomen and uttered a 
 groan, ' It was known unto all of them/ said the 
 prior, ' that under the rule and government of Thurstan 
 such things had been done in the house as had never 
 been done under any preceding abbat. The shrine- 
 boxes had been emptied ; the plates of silver and of 
 gold, the gifts of pious kings and queens, had been 
 taken from the shrines themselves ; the treasure 
 brought from the abbey of Peterborough had only 
 been brought to be given up to the Danes and sent for 
 ever from England, together with the last piece of 
 silver the pilgrims had left in the house of Ely ! And 
 then the Jews ! the Jews ! Had not dealings been 
 opened with them ? Had not a circumcised crew been 
 brought into the patrimony of Saint Etheldreda, and 
 lodged in the guest house of the abbey ? Had not the 
 abbat's seal been used in sealing secui'ities that were 
 now in the hands of the Israelites ? And was not all 
 the money gotten from the Jews gone long ago, and 
 was not the treasury empty, the granary empty, the 
 cellar empty, — was there not an universal void and 
 emptiness in all the abbey, and throughout the patri- 
 mony of Saint Etheldreda?' The monks groaned 
 again. In concluding his long discourse the prior 
 raised his unmanly voice as high as it could be raised 
 without cracking, and said : ' Upon all and several the 
 indubitable facts I have recited, I accuse this Girolamo 
 of Salei-no of magic and necromancy ; and I charge 
 Thurstan, abbat of this house, and Elfric, whilom 
 novice in the succursal cell of Spalding, of being 
 defensors, fautors, and abettors of the necromancer. 
 And what saith the sixteenth of the canons enacted 
 under the pious King Edgar .'' And how doth it 
 apply to our abbat .'' The canon saith this : " And we 
 enjoin, that every priest zealously promote Christianity 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 311 
 
 and totally extinguish every heathenism ; and forbid 
 necromancies and divinations and enchantments^ and 
 the practices which are carried on with various spells, 
 and with frith-splots and with elders, and also with 
 various other trees, and with stones, and with many 
 various delusions, with which men do much of what 
 they should not." I have done.' 
 
 For a while there was silence, the monks sitting and 
 gazing at each other in astonishment and horror. At 
 length, seeing that the abbat was almost choked, and 
 could not speak at all, Girolamo said, ' My lord, may I 
 begin .'' ' 
 
 Thurstan nodded a yea. 
 
 Hei'eupon the Salei-nitan went over the whole his- 
 tory of his past life, with all its sorrows, studies, and 
 wanderings ; and bade the monks reflect whether such 
 a life was not fitted to make a man moody and sad and 
 unlike other men. He acknowledged that, as com- 
 pared with Saxons, and more especially with the Saxon 
 monks of Ely, he ate and drank very little ; but this 
 was because his appetite was not good, and his habit 
 of life very different from theirs. He allowed that he 
 was fond of wandering about in lonely places, more 
 especially by moonlight ; but this was because, eating 
 little, he required the less sleep, and because the sad- 
 ness of his heart was soothed by solitude and the quiet 
 aspect of the moon and stars. All this, and a great 
 deal more, the Salernitan said in a passably composed 
 and quiet voice, but when he came to deny and I'efute 
 the chai'ges which the prior had made, his voice pealed 
 through that hall like thunder, and his eyes flashed 
 like lightning. In concluding he said : ' I was ever a 
 faithful son of Mother Church. The blessed Pope at 
 Rome — Pope Alexander it was — hath put his hand 
 upon this unworthy liead and given me his benediction. 
 
312 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 The pious abbat of the ancient Benedictine house 
 of La Cava that stands in the chasm of the moun- 
 tain between Salerno and the city of Neapolis held 
 me at the baptismal font ; cloister monks were my 
 early instructors, and learned doctors of the Church 
 were my teachers in youth and manhood. I have 
 been a witch-seeker and a witch-finder in mine 
 own country. Ye have known me, liere, burn, or help 
 to burn, a witch almost under your own eyes. Jews 
 have I ever abhorred, even as much as witches, necro- 
 mancers, and devils ! Saracens and Moors, and all 
 that follow Mahound, have I ever hated as Jews, and 
 as much as good Christians ought to hate them ! O 
 prior, that makest thyself my accuser, thou hast been 
 a home-staying man, and hast not been called upon to 
 testify to thy faith in the lands where heathens rule 
 and reign, and Mahound is held to be the prophet of 
 God, and superior to God's own Son. But I tell thee, 
 prior, that I have testified to my faith in such places, 
 and openly on the threshold of Mahound's temples 
 braving death and seeking a happy martyrdom which, 
 alas ! I could not find. Saxons ! in a town in Palestine 
 wherein, save a guard of Saracens, there were none 
 but Jews, I took the chief rabbi by the beard at the 
 gate of his synagogue. Saxons ! to show my faith I 
 have eaten swine's flesh at Jerusalem, in the midst of 
 Saracens and Jews. Saxons ! in the Christian coun- 
 tries of Europe I never met an Israelite without kicking 
 him and loading him with reproaches. Bethink ye 
 then, after all this, whether I, Girolamo of Salerno, be 
 a Jew, or Mahounder or necromancer ! If ye are 
 weary of me let me be gone to the country from 
 which I came. I brought little with me, and shall 
 take still less away. If ye would repay with torture 
 and death the good I have done ye, seize me now. 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 313 
 
 throw me into your prison, load me with chains, put 
 me to the rack, do with me what ye will, but call me 
 not Jew and wizard ! ' 
 
 Sundry of the monks said that the words of the 
 strangers sounded very like trutli and honesty, and 
 that of a surety the good Lord Hereward would not 
 have brought a wizard with him into England, or have 
 lived so long in friendship with a necromancer. Others 
 of the cloister monks, but they were few in number, 
 said that Girolamo had disproved nothing, and that it 
 could be but too well proved that woe and want had 
 fallen upon the good house of Ely — that the treasury, 
 granary, wine-cellar were all empty. The Lord Abbat 
 now spoke, but his anger had cooled, and his speech 
 was neither loud nor long. He declared that every 
 man, being in his senses and not moved by private 
 malice^ must be convinced that the Salex'nitan was a 
 good believer and no wizard ; and that, whatever he 
 had done, however strange some things might appear, 
 had been done by means not unlawful. This being 
 the case there could be no sin or blame in his having 
 made himself the defensor of the stranger, and no sin 
 in Elfric's having associated with him, and assisted in 
 his works. ' But,' said the Abbat, ' though the prior 
 hath not been bold enough to name that name, ye 
 must all know and feel that, if this man were a necro- 
 mancer, charges would lie far more against Hereward, 
 our great captain, then against me or that poor young 
 man, Elfric. Would ye accuse tlie Lord of Brunn of 
 sorcery and witchcraft ? I see ye dare not, nay, I see 
 ye would not ! ' 
 
 As to the daring, Thurstan was right ; but as to tiie 
 will, he was wrong ; for the prior and the chamberlain, 
 and some others, would have accused Hereward if 
 they had only had courage enough so to do. 
 
314 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 The Abbat next told the prior and all the members 
 of the house that were present, that he had taken no 
 important step without the advice and vote of the 
 chapter ; that of late, in many cases, the vote in 
 chapter had been in direct opposition to his own 
 wishes and declared feehngs ; and that whether it 
 were the taking of the shrine-money, or the bargain- 
 ing with the Israelites, or the calling back of the 
 Danes (that source of so much woe), or the giving up 
 of the Peterborough treasure, he had been out-voted 
 by the majority, at the head of which had always 
 stood the prior and the chamberlain. If honest- 
 hearted Thurstan had called for a vote of the brother- 
 hood at this moment it would have gone for him, and 
 the prior and his coadjutors would have been con- 
 founded ; if he had ceased speaking altogether, and 
 had dismissed the assembly, some mischief might have 
 been avoided or delayed ; but unluckily he went on 
 to speak about the obligation the house lay under of 
 feeding and supporting the Saxon lords and warriors 
 in the Camp of Refuge, about his general administra- 
 tion of the revenues of the abbey, and about other 
 matters which had nothing to do with the Salernitan 
 or the foul charges brought against him ; and, saying 
 that these were things to be discussed in a chapter 
 of the whole house, and that if it could be proved 
 that in any of these things he had wilfully done amiss 
 or acted upon a selfish motive, he would readily resign 
 mitre and crozier and return to the lowliest condition 
 of a cloister monk, he quitted the hall, beckoning 
 Girolamo to follow him, and leaving the monks 
 together to be wrought upon by the craft and malice 
 and treachery of the prior and the chamberlain, who 
 had sold their souls not to one devil but to two — the 
 demon of lucre and the demon of ambition and pride. 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 315 
 
 As soon as he was out of the hallj the prior put his 
 evil face under the cowl of the chamberlain^ and 
 whispered, ' Brother, it was our good fortune that put 
 the word in his mouth ! We will soon call a chapter 
 and depose him from his authority. Our task will 
 then be easy ; but as long as he is abbat many timid 
 minds will fear him.' 
 
 'But/ whispered the chamberlain in return, 'we 
 must first of all shake the faith which too many here 
 present have put in his words, and in the protesta- 
 tions of Girolamo.' 
 
 'The logic of hunger will aid us,' said the prior, 
 ' and so will the promptings of fear : there is not a 
 measure of wheat in Ely, and the report hath been 
 well spread that the Normans intend to begin their 
 attack very soon, and to put every monk to the sword 
 that shall not have previously submitted. To-morrow 
 Hereward goes upon some desperate expedition to 
 try to get us corn and wine : he cannot, and will not 
 succeed ; and, while he is absent, we can report of 
 him and his expedition as we list.' 
 
 ' 'Tis well imagined,' said the chamberlain in 
 another whisper ; ' but we must undo the effect of 
 that devil Girolamo's speech, and prepare the minds 
 of the monks for the work we would have them do.' 
 
 While the prior and the cliamberlain were thus 
 whispering together, divers of the old monks, who 
 loved not their faction and who had grown weary of 
 this long sitting, quitted the hall without leaving the 
 mantle of their wisdom and experience behind them ; 
 and after their departure the prior and his faction 
 so perplexed the dull wits of the honester part of the 
 community, that they again began to believe that 
 the Salernitan was a necromancer and the abbat his 
 fautor, that there was no hope of getting corn or 
 
316 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 wine unless they submitted to Duke William, and 
 that if they did not submit they would all be mur- 
 thered by the Normans. 
 
 They also spoke, and at great length, of the priva- 
 tions they had undergone ever since the beginning of 
 the war. 
 
 ' Yea ! how long and how manifold have been our 
 sufferings,' said the sub-sacrist. ' When this accursed 
 Camp first began to be formed, was not our house 
 entirely filled with guests ? Did they not seize upon 
 our hall, nay, even upon our kitchen ? And were not 
 we of the convent obliged to take our meals in the 
 dormitory, as well on flesh days as on fish-days .'' 
 Were not all open spaces in the monastery crowded, 
 so that the abbey looked more like a fair than a house 
 of religion ? Was not the grass-plot of the cloisters 
 so trampled down by the feet of profane fighting-men 
 that no vestige of green was to be seen upon it .'' 
 And though most of these guests be now gone into 
 the Camp, because there is little left here for them to 
 devour, do not the cellars, the store-houses, the 
 kitchen, and every part of the house speak of their 
 having been here, and of the poverty and disorder in 
 which they have left us ? ' 
 
 ' Ay,' said the refectorarius, ' wonderful hath been 
 the waste ! The revenue of the abbat, the common 
 property of the house, and the incomings allotted to 
 the several officials to enable them to bear the charges 
 and do the duties of their offices, have all been 
 anticipated and consumed ! And let our improvident 
 abbat tell me how I am to find that which I am 
 bound to provide for the whole convent, to wit, pots, 
 noggins, cups, table-cloths, mats, basons, double-cloths, 
 candlesticks, towels, plates, saltcellars, silver plates 
 wherewith to mend the cups that be broken, and the 
 
MONKS OF ELY COMPLAIN AND PLOT 317 
 
 like ; besides furnishing three times in the year, to 
 wit, at All Saints, Christmas, and Easter, five bui-thens 
 of straw to put under the feet of the monks in the 
 refectory, and five burthens of rushes and hay where- 
 with to strew the hall ? ' 
 
 ' And I,' quoth the cellarius, ' how am I to be 
 father unto the whole convent inasmuch as meat and 
 drink be concerned, Avhen I have not a penny left to 
 spend in toAvnship or market ? By the rules of the 
 Order, Statutis Ordinis, when any monk at table asks 
 me for bread or for beer, in reason, I am to give it 
 him ; but how am I to give without the wherewithal ? ' 
 
 ' And I,' said the chamberlain, ' how am I to find, 
 for both monks and novices, gowns and garters, half 
 socks and Avhole socks, and bed and bedding, and 
 linsey-woolsey for sheets and shii'ts, and knives, and 
 razors, and combs, in order that the convent go clean 
 and cleanly shaved ? Ay, tell me how I am to 
 change the straw of the beds, provide baths for the 
 refreshment of the bodies of the monks, to find shoes 
 for the horses and spurs for the monks when they are 
 sent travelling, to keep and entertain two bathers and 
 four tailors, when Abbat Thurstan hath taken mine all 
 or hath forced me to give it to laymen and strangers 
 and Norwich Jews ? Let our universal poverty say 
 whether this hath been a misgoverned house ! 
 Brothers, judge for yourselves whether Thurstan, who 
 hath brought down all this ruin upon us, ought to be 
 allowed to rule over us ! ' 
 
 The crafty prior said in a quieter tone of voice, 
 ' For my part, I will not now dwell upon these 
 temporal evils, albeit they are hard for men in the 
 flesh to bear ; but I would bid the convent take heed 
 lest one and all they incur the sentence of excom- 
 munication by the Pope himself. It is now quite 
 
318 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 clear that Pope Gregory wills that William the 
 Norman shall be King of England, and that the 
 English Church, with all English houses of religion, 
 shall submit to him, and take their instructions from 
 Archbishop Lanfranc' 
 
 When the meeting in the hall broke up, the cham- 
 berlain said to the prior, ' We shall yet have the 
 pleasure of burning Girolamo as a necromancer ! ' 
 
 ' An he be not the Jew that cannot die,' quoth the 
 prior. 
 
 When the Salernitan reached the Camp that even- 
 ing he said to the Lord of Brunn, ' Certes the monks 
 of Ely will no longer say I am a wizard ; but there 
 be traitors among them, and much do I fear that 
 their rebellious stomachs will make traitors of them 
 all!' 
 
 ' Against that must we provide,' quoth the Lord 
 Hereward ; ' to-morrow we must go get them corn 
 and wine from the Normans. Our stratagem is well 
 laid, but we must die rather than fail. So good night, 
 Girolamo, and to our tents and sheepskins.' 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 HEREWARD BRINGS CORN AND WINE TO ELY 
 
 There was no cloister monk of Ely that better knew 
 the legends of the house than Elfrie ; for his father, 
 Goodman Hugh, who had dwelt by Saint Ovin's cross, 
 and his father's father who had dwelt in the same 
 place, had been great fenners and fowlers and gossips, 
 and had hawked with the best of the abbats and 
 monks, and had stored their memories with the 
 history of the abbey and the saints of Ely, and had 
 amused and sanctified the long winter-nights, when 
 the fire of wood mixed with peat burned brightly on 
 their hearth, by relating to little Elfrie all the legends 
 that they knew. Now there was one of these which 
 had made a profound impression upon Elfric's mind, 
 which, by nature, loved adventure and ingenious 
 stratagem. It was a short tale, and simple withal 
 and easy to tell. 
 
 Saint Withburga, the fourth in order of the four 
 great female saints that were and are the ornaments 
 and shining lights of the great house, did not live 
 and die as her sister Saint Etheldreda had done, at 
 Ely, and as Ladie Abbess. In her infancy she was 
 sent to nurse at a village called Holkham, belonging 
 to the king her father, Anna, king of the East Angles. 
 In this place she lived many years, whence the village 
 of Holkham Avas sometimes called Withburgstowe, 
 
 319 
 
320 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and a church was built there in memory of her. On 
 the death of the king lier father, which befel in the 
 year of grace six hundred and fifty-four, Withburga 
 removed fi'om Holkham to Dereham, another village 
 in the country of East Anglia ; and here, affecting 
 a retired and religious life, she founded a monastery 
 of nuns, over which she presided for many years. 
 Peaceful and holy was her life, and blessed was her 
 end. When she died, they buried her there, in the 
 chui'chyard at Dereham. And lo ! after many more 
 years had passed, and the other tenants of this 
 churchyai'd and even those that had been buried long 
 after had mouldered into dust, the grave of With- 
 burga being opened, her body was found entire and 
 without the slightest sign of corruption ! Ay, there 
 she lay in her shroud and coffin, with her hands 
 ci'ossed upon her breast, and with her little crucifix 
 of silver lying upon her breast, even as she had lain 
 on the bier on the day of her death so many, many 
 years before. The saintly incorruptible body was 
 forthwith removed into the church, where it was 
 preserved with great care and devotion by the good 
 people of Dereham, and it continued there, not with- 
 out manifold miracles, until the time of that pious 
 monarch King Edgar, who restored the monastery 
 at Ely, which the Danes had burned, and gave the 
 house that precious chai'ter which hath been named 
 befoi'e as not being given privately and in a coi'ner, 
 but in the most public manner and under the canopy 
 of heaven. Now, in restoring the abbey of Ely to 
 its pristine splendour, and in augmenting the number 
 of the brotherhood, it behoved the king to increase 
 the lands and domains of the house ; and, conform- 
 ably, the pious Edgar (may all his sins be forgiven 
 for the good he did the Church !) conferred on the 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 321 
 
 abbey of Ely and the village of Dereham, with all its 
 demesnes and appendages, and with the church 
 wherein the body of the virgin Saint Withburga was 
 preserved and venerated by the people of Dereham 
 and by all the good Saxon people round about. Now 
 the Lord Abbat of that day, having the grant of 
 Dereham and all that appertained to it, could not 
 feel otherwise than very desirous of getting possession 
 of the body of the saint in order to translate it to 
 Ely and there place it by the side of the body and 
 shrine of the blessed Etheldreda. The saintly virgin 
 sisters had been separated in their lives and ought to 
 be united in death ; Ely abbey could offer a more 
 noble shrine than the small dependent church at 
 Dereham ; it was proper too, and likewise was it 
 profitable, that the pilgrims and devotees to their 
 four female saints of East Anglia should always 
 come to Ely instead of going sundry times a-year to 
 Dereham, as had been the custom, and that all the 
 four shrines should be under one roof, and the 
 contents of the shrine-boxes poured into one common 
 treasury. All this had been laid before the king ; 
 and the pious Edgar, who never meant that others 
 should keep what he had bestowed upon his beloved 
 house of Ely, had given his royal licence for the 
 translation of the body of Saint Withburga to the 
 abbey. But the Lord Abbat, being a prudent and 
 cautelous man, and taking counsel of his brother the 
 Bishop of Winchester and of other wise and peace- 
 loving men, came to this wise conclusion : That, 
 inasmuch as it was not likely that the people of 
 Dereham and that vicinage would part with so valu- 
 able a treasure without resistance, if the intended 
 translation should be made publicly known to them, 
 it would be expedient and commendable, and accor- 
 
 X 
 
322 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 dant with the peaceable character of monks, to steal 
 away the body privately, and to admit none but a few 
 of the most active and prudent of the cloister monks 
 of Ely into the secret beforehand. Accordingly no 
 notice was given to the hinds and in-dwellers at 
 Dereham, nor was there any mention made of the 
 great matter outside of the Aula Magna of Ely 
 Abbey ; and on the day appointed the Lord Abbat 
 and some of the most active and prudent of the 
 monks, attended by the sturdiest loaf-eaters of the 
 abbey, all well armed, and after hearing mass in the 
 abbey church, set out on their journey to steal tlie 
 body of the saint ; and on their arrival at Dereham 
 they were received with great respect by the inhabi- 
 tants, who thought that they had come simply to 
 take possession of the place in virtue of the king's 
 charter and donation, and who suspected no fui'ther 
 design. The Lord Abbat, as lord and proprietor and 
 chief, temporal as well as spiritual, held a court for 
 the administration of justice in the manner usual 
 with bishops and abbats, and according to the wise 
 and good laws of our Saxon kings. And after this 
 public court of justice, wherein such as had stolen 
 their neighbours' goods were condemned to make bot, 
 the bountiful Lord Abbat bade the good people of 
 Dereham to a feast. And while the good folk of 
 Dereham were eating and drinking, and making 
 merry, and were thinking of nought but the good 
 meat and abundant drink before them, the sturdy 
 loaf-eaters from Ely, unwatched and unnoticed, and 
 working in great stillness, were making those pre- 
 parations for the translation which they had been 
 ordered to make. And, at the time pre-concerted 
 and fixed, my Lord Abbat and his active and prudent 
 monks took occasion to withdraw from the carousing 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 323 
 
 company in the hall, and immediately repaired to 
 the church under colour of performing their regular 
 devotions. But they left the service of nones unsaid 
 for that day, taking no heed of the canonical hours, 
 but getting all things ready for the happy and peace- 
 ful translation. After a time the abbat and his 
 prudent monks returned to the company and caused 
 more drink to be brought into the hall, still further 
 to celebrate the happy day of his lordship's taking- 
 possession. The whole day having been spent in 
 feasting and drinking, and dark night coming on 
 apace, the company retired by degrees, every man to 
 his own house or hut, his home or present resting 
 place ; and thereupon the monks went again to the 
 church, opened the tomb (of which the fastenings had 
 been forced), opened the coffin, and devoutly inspected 
 the body of Saint Withburga, and having inspected 
 and revered it they closed up the coffin again, and 
 got everything in readiness for carrying it off. About 
 the middle of the night, or between the third and 
 fourth watch, when the matutina or lauds are begun 
 to be sung, the coffin in which the body of the saint 
 was inclosed was put upon the shoulders of the 
 active and prudent monks, who forthwith conveyed 
 it with great haste and without any noise-making to 
 a wheeled car which had been provided for that pur- 
 pose. The coffin was put into the car, the servants 
 of the abbat were placed as guards round about the 
 car to defend it, the Lord Abbat and the monks 
 followed the car in processional order, other well- 
 armed loaf-eaters followed the abbat and the monks ; 
 and in this order they set forward for Brandon. The 
 journey was long and anxious, but when they came 
 to the village of Brandon and to the bank of the 
 river which leads towards the house of Ely, they 
 
324 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 found ready and waiting for them the boats which 
 the abbat had commanded, and immediately embark- 
 ing with their precious treasure they hoisted sail and 
 made ply their oars at the same time. In the mean- 
 while the men of Dereham, having recovered from 
 the deep sleep and the confusion of ideas which are 
 brought on by much strong drink, had discovered 
 that the monks of Ely had stolen the body of saint 
 Withburga. Hullulu ! never was such noise heard in 
 so small a place before. Every man, woman, and 
 child in Dereham was roused, and ran shrieking to 
 the empty tomb in the church, and at the sound of 
 the horn, all the people from all the hamlets and 
 homesteads near unto the pleasant hill of Dereham 
 came trooping in Avith bills and staves, not knowing 
 what had happened, but fancying that the fiery Dane 
 was come again. But when they saw or were told 
 about the empty tomb, the people all shouted, ' Who 
 hath done this deed ? Who hath stolen the body of 
 our saint?' Now no one could gainsay that the 
 Abbat of Ely with his monks had done it. A serf 
 who had gone early a-field to cut grass while the dew 
 was on it, had met the car and the procession on the 
 road between Dereham and Brandon ; and what was 
 of more significance, the presbyter or mass-priest of 
 the church of Dereham, coming to the communion- 
 table found upon it a piece of parchment whereon 
 was written these words : ' I, Abbat of Ely and Lord 
 of Dereham, by and with the consent and approval 
 of Edgar the King, have translated the body of Saint 
 Withburga, to be hereafter kept in Ely Abbey with 
 increased pomp, worship, and reverence ; and this, 
 O presbyter of Dereham, is my receipt for the 
 blessed body aforesaid.' Then, I wis, were heard 
 words of much irreverence from the ignorant and 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 325 
 
 rustical people of the place ! Some of them stopped 
 not in calling the right excellent abbat a thief, a 
 midnight robber, a perturbator of the peace of saints^ 
 a violator of the tombs of the saints ! Nor did they 
 spare King Edgar more than the abbat, saying that 
 although he might by his kingly power and without 
 wrong grant to the house of Ely their lands and 
 services, and even their church, he had no right to 
 give away the body of their saint, and order it to be 
 removed out of their church, wherein it had reposed 
 for thrice one hundred years ; and they all presently 
 agreed to pursue the abbat and the monks, and 
 endeavour to recover the prey. And so, arming 
 themselves with whatsoever weapons they could most 
 readily meet with, they all poured out of Dereham, 
 and took the shortest way to Brandon. They were 
 brisk men these folk of the uplands, well exercised in 
 the game of bowls, and in pitching the bar, and in 
 running and leaping, and in wrestling on the church- 
 green ; they were light-footed men these men of 
 Dereham ; but although they ran their best it was 
 all too late when they got to Brandon, for the monks 
 had got a long way down the river with the saint's 
 body. Nevertheless the Dereham folk continued the 
 chase ; they divided themselves into two bands or 
 parties, and while one party ran down one bank of the 
 river, the other ran down on the opposite side. They 
 even came abreast of the Lord Abbat's boats, and got 
 near enough to see the pall which covered the coffin 
 that contained the body of their saint ; but the river 
 being here broad and deep, and they being unprovided 
 with boats (the prudent abbat had taken care for that), 
 they could not get at the coffin or at the monks ; and 
 so, after spending some time on the banks shaking 
 their bill-hooks and staves, and uttering threats and 
 
326 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 reproaches till they were tired, they gave up the 
 pursuit as hopeless, and began to return home with 
 sad and very angry hearts. The Lord Abbat and the 
 monks of Ely continued their voyage without molesta- 
 tion. They landed safely on the same day, about a 
 mile from Ely Abbey, at the place called Tidbrithseie, 
 but which men do now call Turbutsey. Here they 
 were received with great joy and triumph by all sorts 
 of people, who came down to the waterside, with the 
 monks and mass-priests, to meet them, for all the in- 
 dwellers of Ely town, and all the people that dwelt 
 near it, were as glad to get the body of the saint as 
 the people of Dereham were grieved to lose it. And 
 at eventide, or about compline or second vespers, on 
 this self-same day, the body and coffin of the saint, 
 being put upon another car, was conveyed by land from 
 Turbutsey to Ely, and into the abbey, with solemn 
 procession and the singing of praises to God, and Avas 
 then, with all due reverence and a Te Deum Laudamus 
 in the choir, deposited in the abbey-church next to 
 Saint Etheldreda, and near unto Saint Sexburga and 
 Saint Ermenilda. Now this happy translation of 
 Saint Withburga's body took place on the eighth of 
 the month of July, in the year of our Loi*d nine hun- 
 dred and seventy-four. And is not the day of this 
 translation ever observed as a high festival of the 
 monks of Ely } Much did the Lord Abbat con- 
 gratulate himself on his success ; and well he might, 
 for translations of the like kind, as well before his 
 time and since, have often been attended with fight- 
 ing and bloodshed, nay, with great battles between 
 party and party, and the death of many baptized men ! 
 But through the good policy and great wisdom of this 
 our Lord Abbat there was not a man that had either 
 given or received so much as a blow from a staff or 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 327 
 
 cudgel. Headaches there had been at Dereham on 
 first waking in the morning, but these had proceeded 
 only from the over-free use of the abbat's strong 
 drinks, and were cured by the fresh morning air and 
 the good exercise the men got in running after 
 their saint. Decus et decor, diviticv et miracula omnia 
 — credit, grace, and ornament, riches and many 
 miracles, did the saint bring to the house of Ely ! 
 And mark the goodness and bounty of the saint in 
 making heavenly hot to the good folk of Dereham ! 
 There, in the churchyard, and out of the grave wherein 
 Withburga had been first buried, sprang up a curing 
 miraculous well to cure disorders of the spirits as well 
 as of the flesh. And have its waters ever ceased to 
 flow, and is it not called Saint Withburga's well "? 
 albeit the vulgar do name it, now-a-days, the well of 
 Saint Winifred. 
 
 Now it was in thinking upon this legend that Elfric, 
 the sword-bearer of the Lord of Brunn, was brought 
 to turn his thoughts upon the now well-peopled town 
 and well-cultivated fields of the upland of Dereham ; 
 and thus thinking, and knowing the store of wine and 
 corn that might be had in that vicinage, he had pro- 
 posed to his lord to make a foray in that direction, and 
 to proceed, in part, after the manner in which the 
 Lord Abbat of the olden time had proceeded when he 
 went to steal away the body of the saint. And Elfric 
 had been thanked by the Lord Here ward for his 
 suggestion, and had been called into council as well as 
 Girolamo, and had given many hints as to the best 
 means of carrying out the good plan of robbing the 
 Saxons of Dereham (who had rather tamely submitted 
 to the Normans), in order to feed the monks of Ely 
 and the Saxons of the Camp of Refuge. 
 
 Because of the many waters and the streams that 
 
328 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 cut up the country into the form and appeai'ance of 
 some great echec board, Duke Wilham had not been 
 able to make his line of beleaguerment quite so perfect 
 and sti'ong on this side of the fen country as he had 
 done on the other sides ; but he had posted a good 
 number of archers and spearmen on the uplands beyond 
 the fens, and between Swaifham and Dereham, and 
 upon these he relied for checking the incursions of the 
 Saxons, and keeping them out of countries abounding 
 with supplies. Now Lord Hereward had caused to 
 be collected a good number of skerries, and other light 
 and fast boats even as the good abbat had done afore- 
 thne, and these boats had been sent up the river by night 
 to the vicinage of Brandon, where, with the brave fellows 
 on board of them, they lay concealed among the tall 
 rushes. And while the Lord of Brunn, crossing the 
 rivers and meres, collected a good force in front of 
 SwafFham, which would not fail of drawing all the 
 Norman troops towards that one point, his sword- 
 bearer and the Salernitan were to make rapidly for 
 Brandon with more men, and from Brandon to make 
 for Dereham ; so timing their movements, in small 
 parties and along different paths, that they should all 
 meet in the churchyard and by Saint Withburga's well 
 at midnight of a moonless night, when the town would 
 be buried in sleep. 
 
 On the day next after that on which the evil-minded 
 prior of Ely had formally accused Girolamo of witch- 
 craft, and had spoken so daringly against the Lord 
 Abbat, Hereward marched from the Camp of Refuge 
 with only a few men, his intention being to increase 
 his strength on his march ; and well did he know that 
 at the sounding of his horn, and at the sight of his 
 banner, the hardy fenners would follow him whither- 
 soever he might choose to lead. The gleemen and 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 329 
 
 menestrels who sang the songs which had been made 
 in honour of hira were the best and surest recruiters 
 for the army of the Lord of Brunn. They were ever 
 going from township to township, with their voices 
 and harps, or Saxon lyres. They wei*e small townships 
 these in the fenny countries, and rustical and wild. 
 The fashion of house-building had little changed here 
 since the days of the ancient Britons : the houses or 
 huts were of a round shape, and not unlike the form 
 of beehives ; they had a door in front, and an opening 
 at top to let out the smoke, but window to let in the 
 light was there none ; the walls were made of wattle 
 and dab, the roof of rushes and willow branches cut in 
 the fens ; but the better sort of the houses had stone 
 foundations and rough stone pillars and traves for the 
 doorway, the stone having been brought from the 
 quarry belonging to Peterborough Abbey, or from some 
 other distant quarry. Yet these poor houses were not 
 so comfortless within as might have been prejudged by 
 those who only saw the outside ; the hides of the 
 cattle, the fleeces of the sheep, and the skins of the 
 deer, and the abounding feathers of the fen-fowl were 
 good materials for warm covering and warm clothing ; 
 neither turf nor wood for firing was ever lacking in 
 those parts, and the brawny churls that came forth 
 from the townships, blowing their blast-horns, or 
 shouting for the Lord of Brunn, or brandishing their fen 
 poles over their heads, did not look as if they were scant 
 of meat, or fasted more frequently than Mother Church 
 prescribed. At the same time Elfric and Girolamo, 
 with their party, began their devious, roundabout 
 march for Brandon, being instructed to keep as much 
 out of sight even of the country people as was 
 possible, and to shun any encounter with the Nor- 
 mans, even though tempted by ever so favourable 
 
330 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 an opportunity. Hereward had said to them, ' Our 
 present business is to get corn and wine for the 
 abbey, and not to fight. Be cautious and true to 
 time, and diverge not a hair's breath from the plan 
 which hath been laid down. Conjoint or combined 
 operations fail oftener through vanity and conceit 
 than through any other cause. But ye be not men 
 of that sort; ye will get your stores down to the 
 boats at Brandon by daybreak to-morrow morning, 
 or between lauds and prime, and I shall then have 
 made my retreat, and be upon the bank of the river 
 between Hockwold and Brandon, and ready to give 
 ye the hand if it should be needful. Elfric, mind 
 keep thy swing hanger in its sheath, and think 
 only of bi-ead and wine ! ' And unto these, the 
 parting words of their lord and captain, the sword- 
 bearer and the Salernitan had both said, ' Upon our 
 souls be it ! ' And well did they redeem their solemn 
 pledge. The wise monks who went to steal away 
 the body of the saint were hardly so prudent and 
 cautelous. Elfric even eschewed the marvellous 
 temptation of falling upon a young Norman knight 
 that was riding along the high-road between Bran- 
 don and Dereham, attended by only two men-at-arms 
 and a horse-boy. By keeping under cover, and by 
 creeping in little parties of twos or threes across the 
 country where there was no cover to conceal them, 
 the forayers all got safely into the churchyard and 
 to Saint Withburga's well at midnight. The Lord of 
 Brunn, who had not sought concealment, but had 
 taken the most direct and open road, and exposed 
 his movement as much as he could do, had got 
 behind Swaffham by the hour of sunset, and had 
 made such a hubbub and kindled such a fire in the 
 country between Swaffham and Castle Acre that all 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 331 
 
 the Normans had marched off in that dh'ection, even 
 as had been anticipated. Even the young knight 
 and his attendants, whom Elfric had let pass on the 
 road, had spurred away for Castle Acre, which, at 
 one time, was reported to be on fire. In this sort 
 there was not a Norman left in Dereham ; and as for 
 the Saxons of the town, after wondering for a season 
 what was toward, they came to the conclusion that it 
 was business which did not concern them, and so 
 went quietly to their beds — the burgher and the free- 
 man to his sheets of strong brown linen, and the 
 hind and serf to his coverlet of sheep-skins or his 
 bed of straw. The snoring from the little township 
 was so loud that a good ear could hear it in the 
 churchyard; the very dogs of the place seemed all 
 asleep, and there was not a soul in Dereham awake 
 and stirring except a grey-headed old Saxon, who 
 came with horn lantern in one hand and a big 
 wooden mallet in the other, to strike upon the church 
 bell, which hung in a little round tower apart, but 
 not far from the church. As the old man came 
 tottering among the graves and hillocks of earth, 
 behind which the foraying party was all concealed, 
 Elfric whispered to Girolamo, ' For this night the 
 midnight hour must remain untold by church-bell in 
 Dereham. We must make capture of this good grey- 
 beard, and question him as to where lie the most 
 stores, and where the best horses and asses.' 
 
 And scarcely were the words said or whispered ere 
 Girolamo had fast hold of the bell-knocker on the 
 one side, and Elfric on the other. The patriarch 
 of Dereham was sore affrighted, and would have 
 screamed out if Elfric had not thrust his cap, feather 
 and all, into his open mouth. Gaffer continued to 
 think that he was clutched by goblins or by devils ; 
 
332 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 as the dim and yellow light from the horn lantern 
 fell upon the sharp dai-k face of the Salernitan, the 
 old fellow, fortified in his belief, shook and ti'embled 
 like leaves of the witch-elm, or more tremulous aspen, 
 and nearly swooned outi'ight. Elfric took the cap 
 out of his mouth, and let go the right arm of the old 
 man, who thereupon took to crossing himself, and 
 muttering some fragment of a Saxon prayer potent 
 against evil spirits. 
 
 ' Father,' said Elfric, who was now holding the 
 horn lantern, ' Father, we be no evil spirits or goblins, 
 but honest Saxons from the Camp of Refuge come to 
 seek corn and wine for the good monks of Ely ; so 
 tell us where we can best provide ourselves, and find 
 cattle to carry our store down to Brandon. Come, 
 quick, good Gaffer, for the time presses ! ' 
 
 When the old man looked into the merry laughing 
 face of the ruddy-cheeked, fair-haired sword-bearer, 
 his dread evanished, for there was no believing such 
 a face to belong to any body or thing that was evil. 
 Gaffer, moreover, bethought himself that he had 
 never yet heard of spirit, ghost or goblin, asking for 
 bread and wine. In brief, the old hind was very soon 
 comforted altogether, and having no corn or wine of 
 his own, and no great love for those that had, he soon 
 gave all the information that was demanded of him ; 
 and this being got, Elfric gave a low whistle, and the 
 armed Saxons started up from their hiding places 
 behind the grave mounds, and Saint Withburga's well, 
 and other parts and corners of the churchyard, and 
 ranged themselves in battle-array, and marched into 
 the one long single street of the town. The houses 
 of Dereham, in this dry and rich upland countiy, were 
 better than the houses in the fens, but still most of 
 them were small, and low, and poor, and rudely 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 333 
 
 covered with thatch. Some larger and better houses 
 there were, and of most of these the Norman chiefs 
 and their soldiers had taken possession. The pres- 
 byter or mass-priest and the borhman had, however, 
 kept the good houses that were their own, and they 
 had granaries with corn in them, and cellars holding 
 both wine and ale, and barns and yards behind their 
 houses, and stables, that were not empty ; but these 
 it was resolved not to touch, except, perhaps, for the 
 purpose of borrowing a horse or two to carry the corn 
 and the wine, that might be gotten elsewhere, down 
 to the boats below Brandon. While Girolamo re- 
 mained with one good part at the end of the street 
 watching the road which leads into the town from 
 Swaffham and Castle Acre, Elfric with another party 
 of the merry men proceeded right merrily to levy the 
 contribution. He began with the Norman houses. 
 Here the Saxon serfs, though somewhat alarmed 
 when first roused from their deep sleep, not only 
 threw open their doors with alacrity, but also led 
 Elfric's people to the cellars and store-houses. Nay, 
 upon a little talk with the fen-men, and after an 
 agreement made between them that the doors should 
 be broken as if violence had been used, and some 
 resistance attempted, they threw open all parts of the 
 houses, stables, and outhouses, and assisted their 
 countrymen in packing up their booty, in harnessing 
 the horses and asses, as well as in other necessary 
 offices. Not a murmur was heard until they came to 
 visit some of the houses of the freed-men of Dereham. 
 These men, who had some small stores of their own, 
 were more angered than comforted by being told that 
 the corn was to make bread for the monks of Ely ; 
 for, strange and wicked as it may appear, it was 
 nevertheless quite true, that in Dereham the trans- 
 
334 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 lation of Saint Withburga's body had never been 
 forgiven, but was still heard as a piece of cheating and 
 thievery^ notwithstanding the heavenly bot or com- 
 pensation of the miraculous well, and in spite of King 
 Edgar's charter, and the subsequent approval of our 
 lord the Pope, and maugre the fact obvious to all 
 men that the saint was better lodged at Ely than ever 
 she could have been in this little church. In truth, 
 these freemen made an exceeding great clamour. 
 'To the devil with the monks of Ely for us,' said 
 they. ' In the bygone times they came to Dereham 
 and treacherously stole away the body of our saint by 
 night, and now they send armed men to break upon 
 our sleep and carry off our grain ! ' 
 
 Elfric bade them remember and mind that the 
 Lord Abbat of Ely was lord and proprietor of Dere- 
 ham, and that they were or ought to be his liege 
 men ; and as they continued to complain, and to say 
 that they wished the Normans would soon get back 
 from SwafFham and Castle Acre, Elfric broke the 
 pates of two or three of them with one of their own 
 staves. But nowhere could these men do more than 
 grumble, their numbers being but small, and the 
 serfs being mostly on the other side ; moreover, arms 
 had they none, their friends the Normans having 
 taken care of that. Having found cattle enough else- 
 where, Elfric would not molest the mass-priest, who 
 slept so soundly that he heard nothing of what was 
 passing, and knew nothing of the matter until Elfric 
 had gotten down to the little Ouse, or twenty good 
 miles from Dereham. 
 
 It was midnight when the fen-men arrived at 
 Dereham town, and before prime they were below 
 Brandon, and loading their boats with the corn and 
 wine which had previously loaded a score of good 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY S35 
 
 upland pack-horses, and more than a score of dapple 
 asses. ' This/ said Elfric, ' is not a bad lift for one 
 night's work ! I should like to see the face of the 
 Normans when they return from Swaffham and Castle 
 Acre into Dereham ! ' 
 
 Even Girolamo seemed merry and almost smiled, 
 as he counted the measures of corn and the measures 
 of wine. But hark ! a brazen trumpet is heard from 
 the other side of Brandon ; ay^ the blast of a trumpet, 
 and a Norman trumpet too ; and before the Saxons 
 had half finished loading their boats, a great body of 
 Norman cavalry came trotting down the road which 
 ran along the bank of the river, being followed at no 
 great distance by a great company of Norman bow- 
 men. It was not from Dereham that these foes came 
 — oh no ! the Normans who had quitted that town on 
 the preceding evening to look after Lord Hereward 
 had not yet returned, and some of them never would 
 return — but it had so chanced that an armament on 
 the march from Saint Edmundsbury and Thetford 
 came this morning to Brandon and caught sight of 
 the boats on the river, and of the armed Saxons on 
 the bank. Some of the midnight party thought that 
 it would be best to get into the boats and abandon 
 the half of the booty ; but this was not to be thought 
 of, inasmuch as not a drop of the wine which the 
 monks of Ely so much wanted had been gotten into 
 the boats. Girolamo and Elfric saw at a glance (and 
 it was needful to have quick sight and instant decision, 
 for the Normans were almost upon them), that the 
 ground they stood upon, being a narrow road, with a 
 deep river on one side, and a ditch and a low, broad, 
 and marshy meadow on the other, was good defensive 
 ground, for the horse could only charge upon the 
 narrow road, and it would take the archers afoot some 
 
336 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 time to get across the ditch into the fields, if, indeed, 
 the archers should decide upon adventuring on that 
 swampy ground. 
 
 ' We can make them dance the dance we have 
 given them before,' said the Salernitan. 'Tie me 
 those pack-horses and asses tight together between 
 the Norman horse and us, pile up these barrels and 
 bags ; leap, twenty good bowmen, into those boats, 
 and ascend the river a little, and string to ear and 
 take these horsemen in flank as they come down the 
 road, while we meet them in the teeth with pikes and 
 javelins.' 
 
 "^And,' quoth Elfric, looking at the sun, 'if we 
 but keep our ground, Lord Hereward will be on the 
 opposite side of the river before ye can say a dozen 
 Credos — so blow ! Saxons, blow your horns to help 
 that blatant trumpet in telling the Lord of Brunn 
 that fighting is toward, and keep ready a few of the 
 boats to waft over Lord Hereward's force to this side 
 of the river ! ' 
 
 The Saxons blew their horns as loud as they could 
 blow them, meaning the blasts to be as much a note 
 of defiance to the enemy as a signal to their friends ; 
 and the Norman trumpeter kept blowing his brazen 
 and far-sounding trumpet, and the Norman cavaliers 
 kept charging along the road, shouting and cursing 
 and calling the Saxons thieves and cowards — which 
 they had no right to do. As the enemy came near, 
 the Saxons set up a shout, and the scared horses and 
 asses tied together on the road set up their heels with 
 such a kicking and braying and neighing as were 
 never seen and heard ; and up started from the sedge 
 by the river bank the score of good Saxon archers 
 that had gone a little up the river in the boats, and 
 whiz went their arrows into the bowels of the horses 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 337 
 
 the Normans were riding, and every arrow that did 
 not kill, disabled some horse or man, the archers in 
 the sedges being too near their aim to throw away a 
 single arrow. The knight in command ordered the 
 trumpeter to sound a retreat, but before the man 
 could put the brass to his lips, a shaft went through 
 his cheeks and spoiled his trumpeting for aye. But 
 the Normans showed that they could run without 
 sound of trumpet ; and away galloped the valorous 
 knight to bring up his bowmen. These Norman 
 archers had no great appetite for the business, and 
 albeit they were told there was a great treasure to be 
 gotten, they stood at a distance, looking now down 
 the road, and now down the river, and now across the 
 ditch and the plashy meadows beyond it ; and thus 
 they stood at gaze until they heard a round of Saxon 
 cheers, and the too well-known war-cry of ' Hereward 
 for England ! ' and until they saw a warlike band 
 advancing towards Brandon by the opposite bank of 
 the river. A cockle shell to a mitre — but they tarried 
 not long then ! Away went the Normans, horse and 
 foot, as fast as they could go through Brandon town 
 and back upon the high road by which they had 
 marched from Thetford. 
 
 ' Ha ! ha ! ' cried the Lord of Brunn to his friends 
 from across the river; 'what new wasps' nest is this 
 ye have been among ? ' 
 
 The sword-bearer replied that it was a Norman 
 force which had been marching from the south- 
 east. 
 
 ' 'Tis well,' said Hereward ; ' and I see ye have 
 made good booty, and so all is well on your side. 
 On our side we have led the Normans from Dereham 
 and thereabouts a very pretty dance. I drew a party 
 of them after me into the fens and cut them off or 
 
338 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 captured them to a man. I count as my prisoners 
 one rash young knight and fifteen men-at-arms.' 
 
 ' We have loaded and brought Iiither more than a 
 score of asses and a full score of pack-horses. Shall 
 we finish loading .'' All the wine is here, and a good 
 deal of the corn, and — ' 
 
 ' But shall we not pursue ? ' cried Girolamo. 
 ' Those Normans that came on so boldly are now 
 running like sheep. By moving across this marsh, 
 as light fen-men move, we shall be sure to cut off a 
 part of them.' 
 
 'Since the corn and wine are now safe, be it as 
 you please, Girolamo ; but take Elfric with thee, and 
 go not too far in pursuit.' 
 
 A light skerry was drawn from the river and laid 
 across the ditch in less than a Credo ; and then away 
 went the Salernitan and the sword-bearer, and all the 
 best archers and boldest men of their party, across 
 the plashy fields ; and soon they came up with the 
 rear of the flying Normans, and engaged them in 
 battle on the dry road between Brandon and Thetford, 
 and slew many of them, and captured many more, 
 together with all the baggage and stores of the arma- 
 ment. The short but fierce battle was over, and 
 Elfric was counting the prisoners, when one of them 
 after surrendering his sword, and after begging for 
 and receiving quarter, sneaked out of the throng and 
 endeavoured to escape by running into a thicket near 
 the roadside. The Salernitan, who was resting him- 
 self after his exertion, and leaning on the cross of his 
 well-used sword, now in its sheath, saw the intention 
 of the man-at-arms, and rushed after him into the 
 thicket. Now that caitiff, in giving up his sword, 
 had not given up a concealed dagger, and when 
 Girolamo touched him on the shoulder, merely with 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 339 
 
 the point of his still-sheathed sword, he drew that 
 dastardly and unknightly weapon from his breast, 
 and plunged it into the left side of the Salernitan. 
 Girolamo fell to the ground with the murderer's 
 knife in his side ; but in the next instant, the 
 murderer was shot through the brain by a well- 
 directed arrow, and as he fell, several Saxons fell with 
 their swords upon him, and, in their fmy at his 
 treachery, they hacked his body to pieces. Yet these 
 honest men, though they saw the blood was welling 
 from his side, had much ado to believe that the dark 
 stranger was really hurt with a mortal hurt, and could 
 die like other men. It would be hard to say how 
 long they might have stood looking upon him, 
 stupidly, but not unkindly, if he had not said, ' Saxons, 
 raise my head, place me with my back to a tree, and 
 go seek Elfric, and tell him I am hurt by one of his 
 felon prisoners.' 
 
 Elfric came running to the spot with rage, grief, 
 and astonishment on his countenance. The sword- 
 bearer was breathless and could not speak ; the 
 Salernitan was already half-suffocated with the blood 
 that flowed inwardly, but it was he that spoke first 
 and said, ' Elfric ! after twenty-five years of war and 
 mortal hate between me and them, the Normans have 
 killed me at last! Elfric, let me not die unavenged. 
 Slay me every Norman prisoner thou hast taken on 
 this foul day.' 
 
 The sword-bearer, knowing that Lord Hereward 
 allowed not of such massacres, and wishing not to 
 irritate Girolamo by a refusal, did some violence to 
 his conscience and sense of truth, first by nodding his 
 head as if in assent, and next by saying that the 
 prisoners should assuredly rue the atrocious deed 
 which had been done. But these words were truer 
 
340 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 than Elfric had reason to think they would be ; for 
 while he was in the wood some of the fen-men, having 
 no longer any commander with them to control their 
 wrath, beat and wounded the prisoners, and dispatched 
 some of them outright. 
 
 When the Salernitan spoke again he said, ' Elfric, 
 leave not my body here to be tracked and outraged 
 by the accursed Normans. Get it carried to Ely and 
 see it interred like the body of a Christian man. And, 
 Elfric, sprinkle a little holy water over my grave, 
 and go there at times to say a De profundis for the 
 peace of my soul ! ' 
 
 Here the sword-bearer said he hoped the hurt was 
 not so bad but that some skilful leech might cure it. 
 
 'Alas, no ! not all the leeches between this and 
 Salerno could do me any good. Dear Salerno ! shining 
 bay, bright sky, blue hills, I shall never see ye more ! 
 I lived but for the hope of that, and for vengeance 
 upon the Normans ! My life hath been a life of woe, 
 but I have done them some harm, thank God for 
 that ! But it is over ... I grow faint. Oh, that 
 some godly confessor were at hand to shrieve me !' 
 
 ' Shall I run into Brandon and seek a priest,' said 
 the sword-bearer ; ' or shall I send one of these our 
 true men into the town } ' 
 
 ' No, Elfric, thou must not leave me in my last 
 agony, and there is no time for sending and seeking. 
 But, Elfric, undo my collar, and unbutton this hard 
 mail-jacket, and bring out the silver crucifix, which I 
 received from my mother, and which hath never been 
 from my neck — no, not for a second of time — during 
 these last forty years. Elfric, I have kissed that 
 silver crucifix openly, and in despite of the accursed 
 ravings of Jews and Saracens, upon the very spot 
 where our Lord was crucified ! Elfric, that little 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 341 
 
 cross was round my neck, held by the same silver 
 chain to which my mother hung it when, sailing 
 between Cyprus and Palestine with turbaned infidels, 
 the bark went down in deep water, and every soul 
 perished, save only I ! Kind Saxon, it was my faith 
 in that cross that saved my health and life in 
 Alexandria, when pestilence raged throughout the 
 land of Egypt, and depopulated Alexandria, and all 
 the cities of Egypt ! Let my dying lips close upon 
 that cross : — and, good Elfric, as thou hopest thyself 
 to die in peace, and to be admitted into the dominions 
 of the saints, see that chain and cross buried with 
 me, — round my neck and upon my breast, as they 
 now are ! And take and keep for thyself whatever 
 else I possess, except this sword, which thou wilt give 
 in my name to the Lord of Brunn. Dear boy ! the 
 Normans have not left me much to give thee . . . 
 but I had broad and rich lands once, and horses of 
 high breed and price, and rich furniture, and sparkling 
 jewels brought from the Orient by the Amalfitans ! ' 
 
 While the dying Salernitan was thus speaking — his 
 voice ever growing fainter and fainter — the sword- 
 bearer gently and piously did all that he had been 
 required to do^ undoing the collar, and unbuttoning 
 the coat of mail which the Salernitan wore under his 
 loose mantle of woollen cloth, and bringing out from 
 beneath the under-vest the silver crucifix, and placing 
 it in the feeble right hand of the Salernitan, who then 
 kissed it and said, ' Mother dear, I shall soon be with 
 thee ! O heavenly Mother, let my soul pass easily 
 from this hapless body ! ' 
 
 Here Elfric, who had been well indoctrinated in the 
 days of his youth by the best of the monks of Spalding, 
 crossed himself and said, that it was God Himself who 
 had enjoined the forgiveness of our enemies, and that 
 
342 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 holy men had ever declared that the moribund died 
 easiest when he forgave all the wrongs that had been 
 done him, and died in peace with all mankind. 
 
 Girolamo had to gasp for breath before he could 
 speak ; but at length he said, ' Saxon, I die in peace 
 with all mankind, or with all that profess the Christian 
 faith — save only the Normans. I forgive all men as 
 I hope to be forgiven. Fiat miscncordia tua, Domiiie ; 
 yea, I forgive all and die in peace with all, save only 
 the detestable ungodly Normans, who have heaped 
 upon me such wrong as cannot be forgiven, and who 
 have belied the promises made at their baptism, and 
 who be Christians but in name. Elfric, remember ! 
 they slew my kindred and all the friends of my 
 youth, or they caused them to die in sickly dungeons 
 or in exile and beggary ; they surprised and stole from 
 me the young bride of my heart and gave her over 
 to violence and infamy ! Elfric, wouldst ever forgive 
 them if they should thus seize and treat thy Mildred ? ' 
 
 Elfric shook his head as though he would say he 
 never could ; but albeit Elfric was not dying, he 
 ought not to have done this. Girolamo's head was 
 now falling on his breast, and he several times 
 essayed to speak and could not. At last he said to 
 Elfric, who was kneeling by his side, ' Tell the Lord 
 Hereward that I die his constant friend, and call upon 
 him to avenge my death ! Elfric, put thine ear closer 
 to my mouth ... So . . . and Elfric, go tell the 
 monks at Ely that I am not the Jew that cannot die ! ' 
 
 Here the sword-bearer, who was supporting the 
 Salernitan with his right arm, felt a short and slight 
 shivering, and raising his head so as to look in his 
 face, he saw that the eyelids were dropping over the 
 dark eyes, — and, in another brief instant, Girolamo 
 was dead. 
 
HEREWARD BRINGS CORN TO ELY 343 
 
 The Saxons cut clown branches of trees, and with 
 the branches and their fen poles, and some of the 
 lances which had been taken from the Normans, 
 they made a rude catafalk or bier, and placing the 
 Salernitan upon it, with many a De profundis, and 
 many expressions of wondei*ment that he should 
 have died, they carried him from the thicket and over 
 the Thetford Road and across the plashy meadows. 
 The bier was followed by the surviving Norman 
 prisoners, all expecting to be offered up as an holo- 
 caust, and crying Misericorde and Notre Dame. The 
 pursuit and the fight, the capture and the woe which 
 had followed it, had altogether filled a very short 
 space of time ; and Hereward, who had crossed the 
 river with all his forces, and having embarked in the 
 boats all that remained to be embarked, was con- 
 gratulating Elfric on his speed, when he saw that 
 the body stretched upon the bier was no less a man 
 than Girolamo of Salerno. 
 
 At first the Lord of Brunn thought or hoped that 
 Girolamo was only wounded; but when his sword-bearer 
 told him that he was dead, he started as one that 
 hears a great and unexpected calamity, and he put his 
 hand to his brow and said, 'Then, by all the saints 
 of Ely, we have bought the corn and wine for the 
 monks at too dear a price ! ' 
 
 Some short season Hereward passed in silent and 
 sad reflections. Then apjiroaching the bier whereon 
 the body of Girolamo lay with the face turned to the 
 skies, and the little silver cross lying on the breast, 
 and the limbs decently composed, all through the 
 pious care of Elfric, the Lord of Brunn muttered a 
 De profundis and a Requiescat in pace, and then said, 
 ' Elfric, I never loved that man ! Perhaps, at times, 
 I almost feared him, with the reach of his skill and 
 
344 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the depth and darkness of his passions. I never 
 could hate the foul fiend himself so much as Giro- 
 lamo hated these Normans ! But, be it said, his 
 wrongs and sufferings have far exceeded mine. Eng- 
 land and I stand deeply indebted to him ! ' 
 
 ' He bade me give thee this his sword, and to tell 
 thee that he died thy friend,' said Elfric. 
 
 'There never yet was sword deeper in the gore of 
 our foes,' said Hereward ; ' I know he was my friend, 
 and in many things my instructor, and I repi-oach my 
 heart for that it never could love him, albeit it was 
 ever gi-ateful towards him ! But, Elfric, we must 
 down the river without delay, for the monks of Ely 
 will be clamorous for their wine, and traitors may take 
 advantage of mine absence from the camp. See to it, 
 Elfric, for a heaviness is upon my heart such as I have 
 never known before. I had bad dreams in my last 
 sleep, visions of surprisings and burnings by the 
 Normans, and now the great loss and bad omen of 
 Girolamo's death bring those dreams back upon my 
 mind with more force than they had before.' 
 
 ' I have had my dreams too of late,' said the sword- 
 bearer ; ' but dreams, good my lord, are to be read 
 contrariwise. Let me give your lordship a slice of 
 wheaten bread and a cup of wine.' 
 
 Quoth the Lord of Brunn, ' 'Tis not badly thought, 
 for I am fasting since last sunset, and the monks of 
 Ely must hold us excused if we bi'oach one cask. 
 Elfric, I say again, we have paid all too dearly for 
 this corn and wine.' 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 
 
 No sooner had the Lord of Brunn quitted the Camp 
 of Refuge, the day before that on which the Salernitan 
 was slain, than the prior and the chamberlain and 
 their faction called upon the Lord Abbat to summon a 
 chapter of the house, in order to deliberate upon the 
 perilous state of affairs ; and notably upon the empti- 
 ness of the granaries and wine-cellars of the convent, 
 there being, they said, barely red wine enough in the 
 house to suffice for the service of the mass through 
 another week. Now, good Thurstan, nothing daunted 
 by the malice and plots of the prior (of which he knew 
 but a part), readily convoked the chapter, and gave to 
 every official and every cloister-monk full liberty to 
 speak and vote according to his conscience and the best 
 of his knowledge. But much was the Lord Abbat 
 grieved when he saw that a good many of the monks 
 did not rise and greet him as they ought to do, and 
 turned their faces from him as he entered the chapter- 
 house and gave them his benedicitc, and j)ax vohiscum. 
 And the Abbat was still more grieved and astonished 
 when he heard the prior taking up the foul accusation 
 of Girolamo which had been disposed of the day before 
 and talking about witchcraft and necromancy, instead 
 of propounding some scheme for the defence of the 
 house and the Camp of Refuge against the Norman in- 
 
346 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 vaders. Much did the good Thurstan suffer in patient 
 silence ; but when the atrabilious prior went on to 
 repeat his accusations against Elfric, the whilom novice 
 of Spalding, and against himself, the Lord Abbat of 
 Ely, as defensors, fautors^ and abettors of the necro- 
 mancer, and said that it was now known unto the holy 
 Father of the church at Rome, and throughout all 
 Christendom, that last year an attempt had been made 
 to compass the life of King William by witchcraft (the 
 Norman duke having only had a taste of our fen-fever, 
 as aforesaid !), Thurstan could remain silent no longer, 
 and striking the table with his honest Saxon hand 
 until his abbatial ring was broken on his finger (a sad 
 omen of what was coming !), he raised his voice and 
 made the hanging roof of the chapter-house re-echo, 
 and the cowardly hearts of the wicked monks quiver 
 and shake within them. 
 
 'There is a malice,' cried Thurstan, 'worse than 
 maleficium ! There is a crime worse than witchcraft, 
 and that is — ingratitude ! Prior, when I was but a 
 young cloister-monk, I found thee a sickly beggar in 
 the fens, and brought thee into this house! It was I 
 that raised thee to thy present eminence and illustra- 
 tion, and now thou wouldst sting me to the heart ! 
 Prior, I say, there is worse guilt even than ingratitude, 
 and that is ti'eason to one's country ! Prior, I have long 
 suspected thee of a traitorous correspondence with the 
 Normans, or at least of a traitorous wish to benefit thine 
 own worldly fortune by serving them by the damnable 
 acts of betraying thy country and this house. I have 
 been but a fool, a compassionating, weak-hearted fool 
 not to have laid thee fast in a dungeon long ago. 
 Remember ! it is more than a year since I threatened 
 thee within these walls. But I relied upon the Saxon 
 honesty and the conscience and the solemn oaths of 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 347 
 
 this brotherhood, and so thought that thou couldst do 
 no mischief and mightest soon repent of thy wicked- 
 ness. And tell me, O prior, and look me in the face 
 and throw back thy cowl, that all may see thy face ; tell 
 me, have I not a hundred times taken pains to show 
 thee what, even in this world and in mere temporali- 
 ties, hath been the hai"d fate of the Saxon monks 
 and clergy that betrayed their flocks and submitted 
 to the Normans ? Speak, prior ; I wait for thine 
 answer.' 
 
 But the prior could not or would not then speak. 
 
 ' Hola ! ' cried the Abbat. ' Is mine authority gone 
 from me ? Is the power I hold from Heaven, and 
 from the sainted Confessor Rex venerandus, and by the 
 one-voiced vote of this house, already usurped } Is 
 my call to be disobeyed } Shall this false monk insult 
 me before the brotherhood by refusing to answer me ? 
 I appeal to all the monks in chapter assembled.' 
 
 Several of the monks said that the prior was bound 
 to answer the question which the abbat had put to 
 him ; but the chamberlain stood forwai'd and said with 
 an insolent tone, that in a chapter like the present 
 every monk might speak or be silent as he thought 
 best ; that the question was irrelevant ; and that, 
 moreover, Brother Thurstan (mark ye, he called him 
 fruter, and not dominus or abbat !) had put the said 
 question in a loud, angry, and unmannerly voice ; and 
 was, as he was but too apt to be, in a very fierce and 
 ungodly passion of rage. 
 
 ' O chamberlain ! ' cried the Abbat, ' thou art in the 
 complot against me and thy country and the patrimony of 
 Saint Etheldreda, and I have long thought it, and ' 
 
 ' And /,' said the chamberlain, audaciously interrupt- 
 ing the Lord Abbat while he was speaking, 'And I 
 have long thought that thou hast been leading this 
 
348 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 house into perdition, and that thou art not fit to be the 
 head of it.' 
 
 A few of the cloister-monks started to their feet at 
 these daring wordsj and recited the rules of the Order 
 of Saint Benedict, and called upon the chamberlain and 
 upon all present to remember their vows of obedience, 
 and the respect due to every Lord Abbat that had been 
 canonically elected and appointed ; but alas ! the 
 number of these remonstrants was veiy small — much 
 smaller than it would have been only the day before, 
 for the faction had travailed hard during the night, and 
 had powerfully worked upon the fear of the monks, 
 more especially by telling them that neither bread nor 
 wine could anywhere be had, and that a new legate was 
 coming into England from the Pope to excommunicate 
 every Saxon priest and monk that did not submit to the 
 Conqueror. Now when Thurstan saw how few there 
 were in chapter that seemed to be steady to their duty 
 and true to their vows and to the rules of the order 
 (promulgated by Saint Benedict and confirmed by so 
 many pontiffs of Rome, and so many heads of the Bene- 
 dictine Order, dwelling in the house on Mons Casinium, 
 by the river Liris, where Saint Benedict himself dwelt, 
 and fasted and prayed, when he was in the flesh), his 
 heart, bold and stout as it was, sank within him, and 
 he fell back in his carved seat and muttered to himself, 
 ' My pastoral crook is broken ! My flock are turned 
 into wolves ! ' 
 
 But, among the true-hearted Saxon monks, there was 
 one that had the courage to defy the prior and his 
 faction, and to stand forward and to speak roundly in 
 defence of the oppressed Lord Abbat ; and when he 
 had spoken others found heart to do the same ; and 
 thereupon the weak and unsteady part of the chapter, 
 who had no malice against Thurstan, and who had only 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 349 
 
 taken counsel of their fears and craving stomachs, 
 began to ffill away from the line where the factious 
 would have kept them, and even to reprove the 
 chamberlain and the prior. This change of wind 
 refreshed both the body and the soul of Thurstan, who 
 knew as little of fear as any man that lived ; and who 
 had been borne down for a moment by the weight and 
 agony of the thought that all his friends were either 
 arrayed against him, or were too cowardly to defend 
 him. Speaking again as one having authority and the 
 power to enforce it, he commanded the prior and 
 chamberlain to sit silent in their seats. And the two 
 rebel monks sate silent while Thurstan, in a very long 
 and earnest discourse, but more free from the passion 
 of wrath than it had been, went once more over the 
 history of his life and doings, from the day of his 
 election down to the present troublous day ; and spoke 
 hopefully of the return of King Harold, and confidently 
 of the ability of the Saxons to defend the fen country if 
 they only remained true to themselves and to the Lord 
 Hereward, without plots or machinations or cowardly 
 and treacherous compacts with the enemy. The Lord 
 Abbat's discourse lasted so long that it was now near 
 the hour of dinner ; and, as much speaking bringeth 
 on hunger and thirst, he was led to think about food 
 and drink, and these thoughts made him say, ' My 
 children, ye all know that the Lord of Brunn hath 
 gone forth of the Camp, at the point of day, to procure 
 for us corn and wine. He hath sworn to me to bring 
 us both — and when did the Lord of Brunn break his 
 oath or fail in an enterprise .'' I tell ye one and all that 
 he hath vowed to bring us wine and bread or die ! ' 
 
 The door of the chapter-house was closed and made 
 fast, in order that none should go out or come in so 
 long as the chapter lasted ; but while Thurstan was 
 
350 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 saying his last words, the sub-sacrist, who was sitting 
 near a window which looked into the quadrangle or 
 open square of the abbey, very secretly and adroitly 
 made a sign to some that were standing below in the 
 quadrangle ; and scarcely had the Lord Abbat pro- 
 nounced the word ' die ' when a loud wailing and shout- 
 ing was heard from without, and then the words ' He 
 is dead ! He is dead ! The Lord Hereward is killed ! ' 
 
 At these sounds Thurstan turned as pale as a white- 
 washed wall, and others turned as pale as Thurstan ; and 
 the traitor-monks smote their breasts and made a show 
 of being as much grieved and astounded as any of them. 
 
 ' Ah woe ! ' said the Abbat, ' but this is fatal news ! 
 What fresh sorrow is this upon me ! Hereward lost ! 
 He dead, whose arm and counsels formed our strength ! 
 O that I had died yesterday, or an hour ago ! But 
 who brings the dire news ? What and where is the 
 intelligencer ? Suspend this miserable chapter, and 
 throw open the door that we may see and hear.' 
 
 The sub-sacrist was the first that rushed to the 
 door, and threw it wide open and called upon a crowd of 
 men without to come in and speak to the Lord Abbat. 
 
 The crowd rushed in. It was made up of hinds 
 and serfs from the township of Ely, and of the gaping 
 novices and lay brothers and serving men of the 
 abbey ; but in the head of it was an old fenner, who 
 dwelt on the Stoke river between Hilgay and Down- 
 ham-market, and who was well known for his skill in 
 fowling and decoying birds, and for no other good 
 deed : his name was Roger Lighthand, and he was 
 afterwards hanged for stealing. He had his tale by 
 rote, and he told it well. He was going that morning 
 to look after some snares near Stoke-ferry, when, 
 to his amazement, he saw a great band of Normans 
 marching across the fens under the guidance of some 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 351 
 
 of the fenners. He concealed himself and the Nor- 
 mans concealed themselves : and soon afterwards 
 there came a band of Saxons headed by the Lord of 
 Brunn, and these Saxons fell into the ambush which 
 the Normans had laid for them ; and the Lord of 
 Brunn, after a desperate fight, was slain, and his 
 head was cut off by the Normans and stuck upon a 
 spear; and then the Normans marched away in the 
 direction of Brandon, carrying with them as prisoners 
 all the Saxons of Lord Hereward that they had not 
 slain — all except one man, who had escaped out of 
 the ambush and was hei'e to speak for himself. And 
 now another fenner opened his mouth to give forth 
 the lies which had been put into it ; and this man 
 said that, early in the morning, the Lord of Brunn, 
 with a very thin attendance, had come across the 
 fens where he dwelt, with a great blowing of horns, 
 and with sundry gleemen, who sang songs about the 
 victories of Hereward the Saxon, and who drew all 
 the fenners of those parts, and himself among the 
 rest, to join the Lord of Brunn, in order to march 
 with him to the upland country and get corn and 
 wine for the good monks of Ely. ' When the Lord 
 Hereward fell,' said this false loon, ' I was close to 
 him, and I afterwards saw his head upon the Norman 
 lance.' 'And I too,' quoth Roger Lighthand, 'from 
 my hiding-place among the rushes, saw the bleeding 
 head of the Lord of Brunn as plainly as I now see the 
 face of the Lord Abbat ! ' 
 
 The traitorous monks made a loud lamentation 
 and outcry, but Thurstan could neither cry nor speak 
 and he sate with his face buried in his hands ; while 
 the prior ordered the crowd to withdraw, and then 
 barred the door after them. As he returned from 
 the door to his seat, the prior said, ' Brethren, our 
 
352 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 last hope is gone !' And every monk then present, save 
 only three, repeated the words, 'Our last hope is gone ! ' 
 
 ' The great captain hath pei'ished,' said the chamber- 
 lain : ' he will bring us no corn and wine ! There is 
 no help for us except only in tendering our submission 
 to King William, and in showing him how to get 
 through the fens and fall upon the rebel people in the 
 Camp of Refuge, who have consumed our substance and 
 brought us to these straits ! ' 
 
 Many voices said in a breath that there was no 
 other chance of escaping famine or slaughter. 
 
 This roused the Saxon-hearted Lord Abbat, who 
 had almost begun to weep in tenderness for brave 
 Hereward's death ; and, striking the table until the 
 hall rang again, he up and said, ' Let me rather die 
 the death of the wicked than have part in, or permit, 
 so much base treachery ! Let me die ten times over 
 rather than be false to my country ! Let me die a 
 hundred deaths, or let me live in torture, rather than 
 betray the noblest of the nobles of England that be 
 in the Camp of Refuge ; and the venerable arch- 
 bishop and bishops, abbats and priors that have so 
 long found a refuge in this house — a house ever famed 
 for its hospitality. Let me, I say . . .' 
 
 Here the prior, with great boldness and insolence, 
 interrupted the Lord Abbat, and said with a sneer, 
 ' The few servants of the Church that now be in this 
 house shall be looked to in our compact with the 
 Normans ; but for the fighting-lords that be in the 
 Camp of Refuge, let them look to themselves ! They 
 have arms and may use them, or by laying down their 
 arms they may hope to be admitted to quarter and to 
 the King's peace ; or ... or they may save their 
 lives by timeous flight . . . they may get them back 
 into Scotland or to their own countries from which 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 353 
 
 they came, for our great sorrow, to devour our substance 
 and bring down destruction upon our house. We, the 
 monks of Ely, owe them nothing ! ' 
 
 ' Liar that tliou art,' said Thurstan, ' we owe them 
 years of liberty and the happy hope of being for ever 
 free of Norman bondage and oppression. If ye bring 
 the spoilers among us, ye will soon find what we have 
 owed to these valoi'ous lords and knights ! We owe 
 to them and to their fathers much of the treasure 
 which is gone and much of the land which remains to 
 this monastery : we owe to them the love and good 
 faith which all true Englishmen owe to one another; 
 and in liberal minds this debt of affection only grows 
 the stronger in adverse seasons. We are pledged to 
 these lords and knights by every pledge that can have 
 weight and value between man and man ! ' 
 
 ' All this,' quoth the chamberlain, ' may or may not 
 be true ; but we cannot bargain for the lives and 
 properties of those that are in the Camp of Refuge : 
 and we are fully resolved to save our own lives, with 
 such property as yet remains to this, by thee mis- 
 governed, monastery. Nevertheless we will entreat 
 the King to be merciful unto the rebels.' 
 
 * What rebels ! what king ! ' roared the Lord Abbat 
 again, smiting the table ; ' O chamberlain ! O prior I 
 O ye back-sliding monks that sit there with your 
 chins in your hands, not opening your lips for the 
 defence of your superior, to whom ye have all vowed 
 a constant obedience, it is ye that are the rebels and 
 traitors ! Deo regnante et liege expedante, by the great 
 God that reigns, and by King Harold that is expected, 
 this Norman bastard is no king of ours ! There is no 
 king of England save only King Harold, who will yet 
 come back to claim his own, and to give us our old 
 free laws ! ' 
 
 z 
 
354> THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 ' We tell thee again, O Thurstan ! that Harold lies 
 buried in Waltham Abbey, and that there be those 
 who have seen . . .' 
 
 'Brother,' quoth the prior to the chamberlain, 
 ' brother, we but lose our time in this idle and angry 
 talk with a man who was ever too prone to wrath, 
 and too headstrong. The moments of time are pre- 
 cious ! Let us put the question.' 
 
 ' Do it thyself, O prior,' said the chamberlain, who 
 then sat down, looking very pale. 
 
 'It is a painful duty,' said the prior, 'but I will 
 do it.' 
 
 And having so said, the prior stood up, right before 
 the Lord Abbat, though not without fear and trem- 
 bling, and, after stammering for some time, he spoke 
 in this strain, looking rather at the abbat's feet than 
 in his face : — ' Thurstan, it is better that one man 
 should suffer a temporary evil than that many men 
 should perish ! It is better that thou shouldest cease 
 to rule over this house, than that the house, and all of 
 us in it, should be destroyed ! I, the prior, and next 
 in authority unto thee, and with the consent and 
 advice of all the chief obedientiarii of the convent, do 
 invite and intreat thee voluntarily to suspend thyself 
 from all the duties of thine office ! ' 
 
 ' Chick of the fens, art so bold as this .'' ' cried 
 Thurstan, ' hast thrown thy respect for the canons of 
 the Church and the rules of this Order of St. Benedict 
 into the same hell-pit where thou hast thrown the 
 rest of thy conscience ? Children ! brothers ! ye, the 
 ancient members of the convent, what say ye to this ? ' 
 
 Three monks who had grown grey in the house, 
 without ever acquiring, or wishing to acquire, any of 
 the posts of eminence, to wit. Father Kynric, Father 
 Elsin, and Father Celred, raised their voices and said, 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 355 
 
 that such things had not been heard of before ; that 
 the prior, unmindful of his vows, and of the deep debt 
 of gratitude he owed unto the Lord Abbat, was seeking 
 to thrust him from his seat, that he might sit upon it 
 himself; and that if such things were allowed there 
 would be an end to the glorj' of the house of Ely, an 
 end to all subordination and obedience, an end to the 
 rule under which the house had flourished ever since 
 the days of King Edgar, Rex piissimus. 
 
 Thus spoke the three ancient men ; but no other 
 monks supported them, albeit a few of the younger 
 members of the convent whispered in each other's ears 
 that the prior was dealing too harsh a measure to the 
 bountiful Lord Thurstan. 
 
 The prior, glad to address anybody rather than the 
 Lord Abbat, turned round and spoke to Kynric, Elsin, 
 and Celred : 'Brothers/ said he, 'ye are mistaken 
 as to ray meaning. I, the humblest born of this good 
 community, wish not for higher promotion, and feel 
 that I am all unworthy of that which I hold. I pro- 
 pose not a forcible deprivation, nor so much as a 
 forcible suspension. I, in mine own name, and in the 
 names of the sub-prior, the cellarer, the sacrist, the 
 sub-sacrist, the chamberlain, the sub-chamberlain, the 
 refectorarius, the precentor, and others the obedien- 
 tiarii, or officials of this goodly and godly house of 
 Ely, do only propound that Thurstan, our Lord Abbat, 
 do for a season and until these troubles be past, quietly 
 and of his own free will, cease to exercise the functions 
 of his office. Now, such a thing as this hath been 
 heard of aforetime. Have we not a recent instance 
 and precedent of it in our own house, in the case and 
 conduct of Abbat Wilfric, the immediate predecessor 
 of my Lord Thurstan ? But let me tell that short 
 tale, and let him whom it most concerneth take it for 
 
356 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 a warning and example. — The Loi-d Abbat Wilfric was 
 a high-born man, as high-born as my Lord Thurstan 
 himself, for there was royal Danish and Saxon blood 
 in his veins. Many were the hides of land, and many 
 the gifts he gave to this community and church : my 
 Lord Thurstan hath not given more ! Many were the 
 years that he lived in credit and reputation, and 
 governed the abbey with an unblemished character. 
 Our refectory was never better supplied than in the 
 days of Abbat Wilfric ; and, albeit there were wars 
 and troubles, and rumours of many wars in his days, 
 our cellars were never empty, nor was the house ever 
 obliged to eat roast and baked meats without any 
 wheaten bread. It was a happy time for him and for 
 us ! But, in an evil hour, Guthmund, the brother of 
 my Lord Abbat Wilfric, came unto this house with a 
 greedy hand and a woeful story about mundane loves 
 and betrothals — a story unmeet for monastic ears to 
 hear. Guthmund had paid his court to the daughter 
 of one of the greatest noblemen of East Anglia, and 
 had gained her love. Now Guthmund, though of so 
 noble a family, and related to princes, was not entitled 
 to the privileges of prime nobility, neither took he 
 rank with them, forasmuch as that he had not in 
 actual possession a sufficient estate, to wit, forty hides 
 of land. This being the case, the father of the maiden 
 forbade the troth-plight, and bade Guthmund fly his 
 hawks in another direction, and come no more to the 
 house. So Guthmund came with his piteous tale to 
 his brother the Abbat Wilfric, who, thinking of tem- 
 poralities when he ought to have been thinking of 
 spiritualities, and preferring the good of a brother to 
 the good of this house, did, without consulting with 
 any of the convent, but in the utmost privacy, convey 
 unto the said Guthmund sundry estates and parcels 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 357 
 
 of land appurtenant to this monastery, to wit, Acholt, 
 part of Mereham, Livermere, Nachentune, Bedenes- 
 tede, and Gerboldesham, to the end that, being pos- 
 sessed of them, Guthmund might hold rank with the 
 prime nobiHty and renew his love-suit with a certainty 
 of success. Wot ye well this pernicious brother of 
 the abbat went aAvay not with the sad face he had 
 brought to the abbey, but with a very joyous counte- 
 nance, for he took with him, from our cartularies, the 
 title-deeds of those broad lands which had been given 
 to the abbey by sundry pious lords. Yes ! Guthmund 
 went his way, and was soon happy with his bride and 
 the miserable pleasures of the flesh, and the pomps 
 and vanities of the world. But the abbat, his brother, 
 was never happy again, for his conscience reproached 
 him, and the secret of the foul thing which he had 
 done was soon discovered. The brotherhood assem- 
 bled in chapter, even as it is now assembled, denounced 
 the robbery, the spoliation, and sacrilege, and asked 
 whether it were fit that such an abbat should continue 
 to hold rule over the house .'' Wilfric, not hardened 
 in sin, but full of remoi'se, felt that he could no longer 
 be, or act as Lord Abbat, and therefore went he away 
 voluntarily from the abbey, renouncing all authority. 
 Yea, he went his way unto Acholt, where, from much 
 sorrow and perturbation of mind, he soon fell sick and 
 died : and, as he died very penitent, we brought back 
 his body for sepulture in the abbey church ; and then 
 proposed that our brother Thurstan should be our 
 Abbat and ruler.' 
 
 'Saint Etheldreda give me patience!' said Thurs- 
 tan, ' O, prior, what have I to do with this tale .'' Why 
 revive the memory of the sins of a brother, and once 
 superior and father, wlio died of grief for that which 
 he had done, and which an excess of brotherly love 
 
358 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 had urged him to do ? How doth this tale apply to 
 me ? What have I had to do in it or with it, save only 
 to recover for this house the lands which my unhappy 
 predecessor conveyed away ? I have brought ye hides 
 of land, but have given none to any of my kindred. 
 That which hath been spent since the black day of 
 Hastings, hath been spent for the defence of the 
 patrimony of Saint Etheldreda, and for the service of 
 the country. Have I not brought Guthmund to com- 
 pound with me, and to agree to hold from, and under 
 the abbey, and during his lifetime only, and with 
 payment of dues and services to the abbey, all the 
 lands which his brother, the Abbat Wilfric, — may his 
 soul find pardon and rest ! — alienated by that wicked 
 conveyance ? and hath not the same Guthmund given 
 us the dues and services ? and will not the lands of 
 Acholt, Mereham, Livermere, Nachentune, Bedenes- 
 tede, and Gei-boldesham revert to the house so soon 
 as he dies ? O prior, that hast the venom of the 
 serpent without the serpent's cunning, if ye bring in 
 the son of the harlot of Falaise, and if some pauper 
 of a Norman knight get hold of these lands, the abbey 
 will never get them back again!' And as Thurstan 
 said, so it happened. The demesnes were given to one 
 Hugo de Montfort, and the church was never able to 
 recover possession of them. 
 
 ' Brethi-en,' said the prior, ' I put it to ye, whether 
 we be not now in greater tribulation and want than 
 ever we were before ? Abbat Wilfric gave away five 
 manors and a part of a sixth ; but the convent was 
 still left rich.' 
 
 'Ay! and the cellars full, and the granaries full,' 
 said the cellarius. 
 
 ' And nothing was taken from our treasury or from 
 the shrines of our saints,' said the sub-sacrist. 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 359 
 
 ' Nor was thei*e any dealing and pledging with the 
 accursed Israelites/ said the chamberlain. 
 
 ' Nor did we then bring upon ourselves the black 
 guilt of robbing other religious houses to give the 
 spoils to the half-converted, drunken Danes,' said the 
 sub-chamberlain. 
 
 'Slanderers and traitors all/ shouted Thurstan, 
 ' ye all know how these things were brought about ! 
 There is not one of ye but had moi'e to do in that of 
 which ye now complain than I had ! Ye forced me 
 into those dealings with Jews and Danes.' 
 
 'Thou wast abbat and ruler of the house, and as 
 such thou art still answerable for all ; ' said the prior 
 with a very insolent and diabolical sneer. 
 
 Thurstan could no longer control his mighty wrath, 
 and springing upon the prior and seizing him by the 
 neck he shouted, ' Dog, I will answer upon thy throat ! 
 Nay, viper, that stingest thy benefactor, I will crush 
 thee under my heel ! ' 
 
 And before the cellarer and chamberlain or any of 
 that faction could come to the rescue, the puny prior, 
 with a blackened face, was cast on his back upon the 
 floor of the chapter-house, and the Lord Abbat had 
 his foot upon him. 
 
 The prior moaned and then screamed and yelled 
 like a whipped cur : the faction rose from their seats 
 and came to his aid, but as they all knew and dreaded 
 the stalwart strength that was in Thurstan's right arm, 
 each of them wished some other monk to go foremost, 
 and so the cellarer pushed forward the chamberlain, and 
 the chamberlain pushed forward the sub-chamberlain, 
 the sacrist the sub-sacrist, and so with the rest ; and 
 maugre all this pushing, not one of them would venture 
 to lay his hand upon the sleeve of the abbat's gown, or 
 to get within reach of Tliurstan's strong right arm. 
 
360 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 But the Lord Abbat cooling in his wrath^ and feel- 
 ing scorn and contempt instead of anger, took his 
 foot from the hollow breast of the recreant prior, and 
 bade him rise and cease his yelling : and the prior 
 rose, and the abbat returned to his seat. 
 
 Now those of the faction who had not felt the tight 
 grip of Thurstan's right hand, nor the weight of his 
 foot, were greatly rejoiced at what had happened, as 
 they thought it would give them a handle whereby to 
 move a vote of the chapter for the forcible suspension 
 of the Lord Abbat ; and to this end they raised a loud 
 clamour that Thurstan had acted uncanonically, tyran- 
 nically, and indecently, in beating a monk who was 
 next in dignity to himself, and that by this one act he 
 had merited suspension. 
 
 ' Babblers and fools,' cried Thurstan, growing 
 wroth again ; ' Fools that ye are, though with more 
 malice than folly, and with more treachery than 
 ignorance, it is not unto me that ye can expound 
 the canons of the church, or the rules of the order 
 of Saint Benedict ! Was I not bred up in this house 
 from mine infancy .'' Was I not reputed sufficiently 
 learned both in English and in Latin, many years 
 before I became your abbat .^ Have I not read and 
 gotten by heart the laws and institutes .'' Ye have a 
 rule if ye would read it ! and is it not this — that it is 
 your duty to obey your Lord Abbat in all things, and 
 that your abbat may impose upon each and all of ye 
 such penance as he thinks fit, secundum delictum, 
 even to the chastising of ye with his own hand .'' 
 Chamberlain ! I have seen Abbat Wilfric cudgel thee 
 with his fen-pole until thy back was as black as 
 thy heart now is. Sacrist ! thou art old now, but 
 thou wilt remember how Abbat Wilfric's predecessor 
 knocked thee down in the refectory on the eve of 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 36 1 
 
 Saint John, for being drunk before evening-song, and 
 thine offence was small compared to that which this 
 false prior hath given me before the whole house ! ' 
 
 The prior, who had now recovered his breath and 
 removed himself to the farthest end of the hall, spoke 
 and said — ' But what say the canons of ^Ifric ? — 
 " Let not a priest wear weapons nor work strife, nor 
 let him swear oaths, but with gentleness and sim- 
 plicity ever speak truly as a learned servant of God : " 
 — and what sayeth jElfric in his pastoral epistle ? — 
 " No priest shall be too proud nor too boastful. He 
 shall not be violent and quarrelsome, nor stir up 
 strife, but he shall pacify quarrels always if he can ; 
 and he may not who is God's soldier lawfully wear 
 weapons, nor go into any battle : " — and what say the 
 canons enacted under King Edgar, the great benefactor 
 of this our house ? — " Let each of God's servants be to 
 other a support and a help both before God and before 
 men : and we enjoin that each respect the other.' " 
 
 ' Say on,' cried the abbat ; ' thou sayest not all 
 the canons of good King Edgar, for it ordains that 
 all junior priests or monks shall respect and obey 
 their elders and superiors. But I will not lose more 
 time and temper in talking with thee and such as 
 thou art ; and since the major part of the convent 
 have fallen off from their duty and the respect and 
 obedience they owe me, I, Thurstan, by the grace of 
 God Lord Abbat of Ely, entering my solemn protest 
 against the wrong which hath been done me, and 
 making my appeal to God against this injustice and 
 rebellion, do here, for this time being, take off my 
 mitre and dalmatic, and lay down my crosier, and 
 take my departure for the Camp of Refuge, to take 
 my chance with those whom ye are betraying.' 
 
 And so saying, Thurstan laid mitre, dalmatic, and 
 
362 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 crosier upon the table, and then strode down the hall 
 towards the door. 
 
 ' Oh Thurstan/ cried the chamberlain with a voice 
 of great joy, 'thou hast done wisely! but it would 
 not be wisely done in us to let thee go forth of this 
 house for this present ! Sub-prior, cellarer, friends, 
 all that would save the abbey and your own lives, 
 look to the door ! Prior, put it to the vote that the 
 house in chapter assembled do accept the voluntary 
 resignation of Thurstan, and that he, our whilom 
 abbat, be closely confined within his own innermost 
 chamber, until another chapter ordain otherwise, or 
 until this exceeding great danger be past.' 
 
 The door was more than secured ; and save only 
 the feeble voices of those three old and good monks, 
 Fathers Kynric, Elsin, and Celred, not a voice was 
 heard to speak against these wicked proposals, or in 
 favour of the bountiful Lord Abbat, whose heart died 
 within him at the sight of so much ingratitude, and 
 who stood, as if rooted to the ground, at the end of 
 the hall near the door, muttering to himself, ' Here- 
 ward, my son, if thou hadst lived it ne'er had come 
 to this ! Oh noble lords and knights and warriors 
 true in the Camp, — no longer a Camp of Refuge, 
 but Castra Doloris, a Camp of Woe, — ye will be be- 
 trayed and butchered, and in ye will be betrayed and 
 butchei-ed the liberties of England and the last rights 
 of the English church, before warning can be given 
 ye ! Oh Stigand, my spiritual lord, and all ye Saxon 
 bishops and abbats that came hither as to a sanc- 
 tuary, ye have but thrown yourselves into the lion's 
 den ! Hereward, dear, brave Hereward, thou art 
 happy, thou art happy in this, that thou hast at 
 least died like a soldier ! The rest of us will die like 
 sheep in the shambles ! ' 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 363 
 
 While Thurstan, a sadder man than ever was 
 Marius among the ruins of Carthage, was thus stand- 
 ing motionless, and communing with his own sad 
 heart, the prior put to the vote the resolution which 
 the chamberlain had moved ; and the large majority 
 of the house, some being deep in the plot, but more 
 being carried by the dread of the Nonnans and the 
 dread of famine, or being thrown into despair by the 
 reported death of the Lord of Brunn, voted as the 
 prior and chamberlain wished they would vote. The 
 prior would fain have cast Thurstan into that sub- 
 terranean dungeon into which Thurstan had once 
 threatened, but unluckily only threatened, to cast 
 him ; and he took much pains to show that it was 
 needful to keep the deposed abbat in a place of great 
 strength and security, to keep his imprisonment a 
 secret, and to prevent all possibility of access to him 
 or correspondence with him ; but when he came to 
 name the dark damp cold cells in the foundations of 
 the abbey, wherein the rebellious son of an old East 
 Anglian king had been immured, after having been 
 deprived of his eyes, the monks testified compunction 
 and disgust, and even sundry monks that had long 
 been the most desperate of his faction spoke against 
 the barbarity, and therefore the astute prior had not 
 put it to the vote, and Thurstan was merely conveyed 
 to the inner chamber of his own apartment ; and 
 this being done, and a strong guard being left in the 
 abbat's apartment, the monks all went to their long 
 delayed dinner, and as soon as the dinner was over, 
 the prior, the cellarer, the chamberlain, the sacrist, 
 and a large attendance of monks and lay brothers 
 went forth to complete their treason, leaving behind 
 them rigorous orders that all the gates of the abbey 
 should be kept closed, and that none should be ad- 
 
364> THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 mitted therein until they returned from Cam-Bridge. 
 The way which the traitors took across the fens and 
 broad waters of Ely was indirect and long, for they 
 feared to be seen of any Saxon, and so shunned the 
 good folk of the township of Ely, the faithful vassals 
 and loaf-eaters of the abbey. Nevertheless they got 
 to the causey which the Normans had made before 
 compline, or second vespers, and finding fleet horses 
 there waiting for them, they got to the castle at 
 Cam-Bridge, and into the presence of Duke William 
 and his fiercer half-brother, Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, 
 two good hours before the beginning of lauds. The 
 false Saxons kneeled at the feet of the Normans, 
 kissed their hands — mailed hands both, for the 
 bishop, heedless of the canons of the church, wore 
 armour and carried arms as frequently as his brother 
 the duke, and, like the duke, intended to take the 
 field against the last of the Saxons, and was only 
 waiting for the summons and the sign which the 
 monks of Ely were to give. The compact had been 
 propounded many nights before this ; but now the 
 duke, speaking as lawful sovereign of England, and 
 the Bishop of Bayeux, speaking as one that had 
 authority from the primate Lanfranc and from the 
 Pope of Rome himself, laid their hands upon the 
 relics of some Saxon saints which the traitor monks 
 had brought with them, and solemnly promised and 
 vowed that, in consideration of the said monks show- 
 ing them a safe byway to the Camp of Refuge, and 
 in consideration of their other services, they would 
 do no harm, nor suffer any to be done either to Ely 
 Abbey, or to any monk, novice, lay brother, or other 
 servant soever of that house. Aye, they promised 
 and vowed that the whole patrimony of Saint Ethel- 
 dreda should remain and be confirmed to the Saxon 
 
A CHAPTER AND A GREAT TREASON 365 
 
 brotherhood, and that not a hide of land should be 
 taken from them, nor a single Norman knight, soldier, 
 abbat, or monk be forced upon them, or enriched by 
 their spoils. Aye, and they promised and vowed to 
 enrich the shrines of the saints, and to restore to the 
 abbey its pristine splendour and all its ancient pos- 
 sessions, not excepting those for which Guthmund, 
 the brother of Abbat Wilfric, had compounded ; and 
 they opened unto the delighted eyes of the prior the 
 sure and bi-illiant prospect of the mitre and crosier. 
 And upon this the false monks of Ely swore upon 
 the same relics to do all and more than they had 
 promised to do ; and so kneeled again and kissed the 
 mailed hands, and took their departure from that 
 ill-omened castle on the hill that stood and stands 
 near to Cam-Bridge ; and riding along the causey as 
 fast as the best English horses could carry them, and 
 then stealing over the waters, across the fens, and 
 through the woods of willows, like night thieves that 
 blow no horn, because they will not that their going 
 and coming be known to honest men, they got back 
 to the abbey, and went to their several cells about 
 the same hour of prime on which Elfric the sword- 
 bearer, and Girolamo the Salernitan, got down as far 
 as to Brandon with corn and wine for the house. 
 
 The order was again given that all the gates of the 
 abbey should be kept closed ; and during the whole of 
 that day, or from the rising of the sun to the setting 
 thereof, no living soul was allowed either to enter the 
 house or to issue therefrom. So much did the traitors 
 fear lest their treasons and the wrongs they had done 
 unto the good Lord Abbat should become known to 
 the good folk of Ely town, and through them to the 
 warriors in the Camp of Refuge. Some of the Saxon 
 prelates had gone forth for the Camp several days 
 
366 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 before, and had not yet returned ; but such as re- 
 mained m the house (only a few sick and aged men) 
 were told that the Lord Abbat was sick, and could not 
 be spoken with, and that the doors and gates were 
 kept closed in order that he might not be disturbed. 
 Nor was this all false. Thurstan's wrath, and then 
 his grief and perturbations, had brought on a fever and 
 ague, and he was lying on his bed in a very helpless 
 and very hopeless state, with none to help him or hear 
 him, for the sub-prior had made fast the door of the 
 inner chamber, and the door of the chamber which led 
 into it ; and the guard was stationed at a distance in 
 the corridor. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE DUNGEON 
 
 It was just before sunset of the disastrous day which 
 saw the traitorous monks of Ely return from the 
 castle at Cam-Bridge, that the Lord of Brunn and his 
 trusty sword-bearer arrived at Turbutsey (where the 
 monks of old had landed the body of Saint Withburga) 
 with the corn and wine for the abbey ; and also with 
 the dead body of the Salernitan, which they hoped to 
 inter in the abbey church-yard. Turbutsey had but 
 few in-dwellers ; and the poor hinds that were there 
 had heard nothing of the foul report of Lord Here- 
 ward's death, which had wrought such mischief in 
 the abbey. Lord Hereward, eager to be at his proper 
 post in the Camp of Refuge, took the direct road, or 
 path, which led thereunto, carrying with him, for the 
 comfort of secular stomachs, only a few flagons of 
 wine and a few measures of Avheat, and ordering Elfric 
 to go up to the abbey with all the rest of the provision, 
 as soon as it should be all landed from the boats and 
 skerries. But, before the landing was finished, there 
 came down some gossips from the township of Ely, 
 who reported with marvellous sad faces, that the gates 
 of the abbey had been closed ever since the mid-day 
 of yesterday ; and that the whole house was as silent 
 and sad as a pest-house, on account, no doubt, of the 
 death of the good Lord of Brunn, the kind-hearted, 
 
 367 
 
36s THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 open-handed lord, who had ever befriended the Saxon 
 poor ! Upon hearing thera talk in this fashion, the 
 sword-bearer came up to the gossips, and told them 
 that the Lord of Brimn was no more dead than he was. 
 
 ' Verily,' said the people, ' the sad news came down 
 to the township yesterday before the hour of noon ; 
 and ever since then the abbey gates and church gates 
 had been closed, and the township hath been in tears.' 
 
 Now, upon hearing this strange news, Elfric's quick 
 fancy began to work, and apprehending some evil, 
 albeit he knew not what, he resolved not to carry up 
 the stores, but to go up alone by himself to see what 
 strange thing had happened in the abbey, that should 
 have caused the monks to bar their doors, and even 
 the doors of the church, against the faithful. He 
 thought not of the want of rest for one night, or of 
 the toils he had borne on that night and during two 
 whole days, for he had borne as much before without 
 any great discomfort ; but he looked at the stark body 
 of the Salernitan, as it lay with the face covered in 
 one of the boats, and then he thought of Girolamo's 
 death-wound and dying moment, and of the ill-will 
 which some of the convent had testified towards that 
 stranger, and of the rumours he had heard of murmur- 
 ings and caballings against the good Lord Abbat, and 
 he said to himself, ' My heart is heavy, or heavier 
 than it ever was before, and my mind is haunted by 
 misgivings. If the monks of Ely be traitors to their 
 country, and rebels to their abbat, by all the blessed 
 saints of the house of Ely they shall not taste of this 
 bread, nor drink of this wine ! And then this un- 
 buried, uncoffined, unanealed body, and the dying 
 prayer of Girolamo for Christian burial, and a grave 
 
 whither the Normans should come not ! I 
 
 must see to that, and provide against chances.' 
 
THE DUNGEON 369 
 
 And having thus said to himself, he said aloud to his 
 troop of fenners : ' Unload no more corn and wine, but 
 stay ye here at Turbutsey until ye see me back again ; 
 but if I come not back by midnight, or if any evil report 
 should reach ye before then, cross the river, and carry 
 all the corn and the wine with ye deep into the fens ; 
 and carry also with ye this the dead body of Girolamo, 
 unto whom I bound myself to see it interred in some 
 safe and consecrate place ; and go by the straightest 
 path towards Spalding ! Do all this if ye love me and 
 reverence the Lord of Brunn ; and in the meanwhile 
 rejoice your hearts with some of the good drink : only 
 be wise and moderate.' 
 
 And the fenners said that they would do it all, 
 and would be moderate : and thereupon, leaving 
 behind him the Ely gossips, and the fenners, the 
 corn, the wine, and the dead body of Girolamo, 
 Elfric took the road to the abbey, and arrived ad 
 magnam jjortavi, at the main-gate, before it was quite 
 dark, A few of the town-folk had followed him to 
 the gate, shouting with all their main that Elfric 
 the lucky sword-bearer had come back, that the 
 Lord of Brunn had come back, and that they had 
 brought good store of corn, meal, and wine for my 
 Lord Abbat Thurstan : for, upon reflection, Elfric had 
 thought it wise to tell them this much. But from 
 within the abbey Elfric heard no sound, nor did he 
 see the form or face of man, in the turret over the 
 gate-way, or in the windows, or on the house-top. 
 But there were those on the watch within who saw 
 Elfric very clearly, and who heard the noise the town- 
 folk were making : and anon the small wicket-gate 
 was opened, and Elfric was bade enter ; and the poor 
 folk were commanded to go home, and cease making 
 that outcry. Once, if not twice, Elfric thought of 
 
370 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 withdrawing with the Ely folk, and then racing back 
 to Turbutsey ; for he liked not the aspect of things : 
 but it was needful that he should have a clear notion 
 of what was toward in the abbey, and so blaming 
 himself, if not for his suspicions, for his own personal 
 apprehensions, he stepped through the wicket, taking 
 care to shout, at the top of his voice, as he got under 
 the echoing archway, ' Good news ! brave news ! The 
 Lord Hereward is come back to the camp, and hath 
 brought much corn and wine for this hallowed house ! 
 Lead me to Abbat Thurstan — I must speak with the 
 Lord Abbat forthwith ! ' 
 
 ' Thou mayst speak with him in the bottomless pit,' 
 said the sub-prior. 
 
 And as the sub-prior spoke, under the dark archway 
 within the gate, a half-score from among the traitorous 
 monks leaped upon the faithful sword-bearer, and put a 
 gag into his mouth, so that he could ciy out no more, 
 and whirled him across the court-yards, and through 
 the cloisters, and down the steep wet staircase, and into 
 the cell or vault, or living grave, within and under the 
 deep foundations of the abbey : and there, in the bowels 
 of the earth, and in utter solitude and utter darkness, 
 and with three several iron-bound doors closed upon 
 him, they left him, making great haste to return to the 
 refectory, and hoping that their plan had been so well 
 managed that none but the desperate members of their 
 own faction had either seen Elfric enter, or heard his 
 shouts, or the shouts of the town-folk. 
 
 So soon as Elfric could get the gag out of his mouth, 
 and recover from his first astonishment, he began to 
 think ; and he thought that this was but a bad return 
 for his fighting and risking death for the sake of the 
 stomachs and bowels of the monks of Ely ; and he 
 became convinced in his own mind that the traitorous 
 
THE DUNGEON 371 
 
 monks must have made away with the noble Abbat 
 Thurstan, and have consummated their treachery : 
 and then he thought of his friends in the Camp of 
 Refuge, and at Hadenham, and of the Lord HercAvard 
 and the Ladie Alftrude, and, most of all, of the maid 
 Mildred ! And then there came before him the ghastly 
 face of the Salernitan, and rang in his ears, like a 
 knell, the words which the dying Girolamo had used 
 in the morning, when speaking of the hard doom of 
 his beloved ! And, next to this, he bethought him- 
 self of the fearful legend of the house of Ely, which 
 related how the blinded prince, who had pined so long 
 in those dreary vaults, had ever since haunted them 
 under the most frightful forms ! Yet when his lively 
 fancy had brought all these things before him, and 
 even when he had become convinced that he would be 
 buried alive, or left to starve and gnaw the flesh from 
 his own bones in that truly hellish pit, which he knew 
 was as dark by day as by night, a sudden and sweet 
 calm came over his distraught mind ; and he kneeled 
 on the cold slimy floor of the dungeon and raised to 
 heaven his hands, which he could not see himself, but 
 which were well seen by the saints above, unto whom 
 thick darkness is as bright light ; and when he had 
 said a short prayer for himself and for his Mildred, for 
 his generous lord and most bountiful ladie, he threw 
 himself along the ground, and laying his left arm under 
 his head for a pillow, he made himself uji for sleep. 
 
 ' Come what will,' said he, ' I have been true to 
 my God, to my saints, to my country, to my church, 
 to my lord and master, and to my love ! This martyr- 
 dom will soon be over ! Not these deep hollows of 
 the earth, nor all the weight of all the Avails and 
 arched roofs and springing towers of Ely Abbey, can 
 crush or confine, or keep down, the immortal spirit of 
 
372 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 man ! Mildred ! my Lord Hereward ! my noble lady 
 and mistress ! and thou, O joyous and Saxon-hearted 
 Lord Abbat Thurstan ! if traitors have it their own 
 way here, we meet in heaven, where there be no Nor- 
 mans and no Saxon traitors ! ' 
 
 And so saying, or thinking, and being worn out by 
 excess of fatigue, or rather by the excessiveness of his 
 late short moral anguish, — an agony sharper than that 
 of the rack, upon which men are said to have fallen 
 asleep, — Elfi-ic in a very few moments fell into the 
 soundest of all sleeps. The toads, which fatten in dark- 
 ness, among the noxious and colourless weeds which 
 grow where light is not, and the earth-worms crawled 
 over and over him, but without awakening him, or giving 
 him any distm-bance in his deep sleep. And as he slept, 
 that black and horrent dungeon, in which his body lay, 
 was changed, by the bright visions which blessed his 
 sleep, into scenes as bright as the chapel of Saint 
 Etheldreda in the abbey church, on the great day of 
 the saint's festival, when a thousand waxen tapers are 
 burning, and the whole air is loaded with incense and 
 with music. It was the sunshine of a good conscience 
 shining inwardly. 
 
 Now, while it fared thus with the captive below, 
 much talk and discussion took place among divers of 
 the honest monks above ; for, notwithstanding the 
 great care which had been taken to send away the 
 Ely folk, and to seize and gag Elfric as soon as he 
 came within the gate, the cry of the men of Ely, and 
 the shout of the swoi'd-bearer that Lord Hereward had 
 come back, and had brought much corn and wine, 
 were heard in almost every part of the house ; and, 
 upon heai'ing them, the monks that were not of the 
 faction grievously lamented what had been done 
 against the Lord Abbat, and in favour of the Nor- 
 
THE DUNGEON 373 
 
 mauSj and very clearly perceived that a trick had 
 been put upon them in the report of Lord Hereward's 
 death. 
 
 'I tell ye now, as I told ye then/ said Father 
 Kynric, ' that ye all make too much account of your 
 meat and drink, and are all too impatient of tem- 
 porary inconvenience. But what said the blessed Ethel- 
 dreda .'' " The fashion of this world passeth away ; and 
 that only is to be accounted life which is purchased by 
 submitting to temporal inconveniences." ' 
 
 ' And tell me,' said that other good old Saxon 
 monk, the Father Celred ; ' tell me, O my brethren, 
 tell me how Saint Etheldreda fared when she was in 
 the flesh, and ruled this house as lady abbess .-' ' 
 
 'Ay,' said good Father Elsin, 'Saint Etheldreda 
 never wore linen, but only woollen ; she never returned 
 to her bed after matins, which were then begun 
 immediately after midnight ; and, except on the great 
 festivals of the church, she ate only once a day, nor 
 cared nor knew whether her bread was white or 
 brown.' 
 
 ' Alack ! ' said Kenulph of Swaff ham, a cloister- 
 monk who had voted for the wicked prior solely 
 because the cellars and the granaries were empty ; 
 ' alack ! man's flesh is weak, and hunger is so sti'ong ! 
 Saint Etheldreda was a woman, and a delicate princess ; 
 but, an she had been an upland man like me, and 
 with such a sharp Saxon stomach as I have, she never 
 could have lived upon one meal a day ! ' 
 
 ' That is to say,' quoth Father Cranewys, ' if she 
 had not been sustained by permanent and wondrous 
 miracle, for ye wis. Brother Kenulph, that there be 
 ladie saints in hagiology that have lived for octaves, 
 and for whole moons together, upon nothing but the 
 scent of a rose. I wonder, and would fain know, 
 
374 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 how much corn and wine the Lord of Brunn hath 
 brought with him.' 
 
 ' Whatever he hath brought/ quoth Father Kynric, 
 'the Normans will get it all! the prior and the sub- 
 prior, and all the rest of the officials speak in riddles, 
 but none of us can be so dull as not to see that Duke 
 William will be here to-night or to-morrow morning, 
 and that the prior went to invite him hither. The 
 mischief is now done, and the prior is too strong to 
 be resisted ; but if there were but three cloister- 
 monks of my mind, I would break out of this house 
 in spite of the sub-prior's calls, and locks, and bars ! 
 Yea, I would break out and release the brave boy 
 Elfric, and away with him to the Camp of Refuge, to 
 put my Lord Hereward and our other noble friends, 
 and the whole Saxon host upon their guard. Ever- 
 lasting infamy will rest upon the monks of Ely, if 
 they be taken and massacred in their sleep.' 
 
 ' If,' said the monk from S waff ham, ' the supplies 
 which the Lord Hereward hath brought be abundant, 
 I would rather go and pass this autumn and coming 
 winter in the fens, than stay here under the usurped 
 rule of the prior, who beareth a mortal hatred against 
 all of us that ever opposed him. Nay, I would rather 
 continue to eat meat and fish without bread (provided 
 only there was a little wine), than abide here to 
 witness so foul a treason as thou talkest of. But 
 prithee, brother Kynric, how much corn and wine may 
 a man reasonably expect to have been brought down, 
 and where is it } ' 
 
 Kynric responded, that he only knew that the Ely 
 folk had cried, that there was good store of corn, meal, 
 and wine, and that Elfric had shouted within the gate 
 that there was much corn and wine. 
 
 Father Elsin said that he had heard the cellarer 
 
THE DUNGEON 375 
 
 say to the sub-sacrist, that the good store of provision 
 would be at Turbutsey, inasmuch as Hereward had 
 promised to land it there ; and that at a very early 
 hour in the morning it should all be sent for and 
 brought into the abbey. 
 
 'In that case/ quoth the upland monk, 'if a few of 
 us could sally out before midnight, the corn and wine 
 might be ours.' 
 
 ' Of a surety,' said Father Kynric, ' and we might 
 carry it with us into the fens, which will not be 
 conquered though the Camp of Refuge should fall ; 
 and we might share it with Lord Hereward and his 
 true Saxons, and look to time and chance, and the 
 bounty of the saints, for fresh supplies.' 
 
 ' Then by all the saints that lie entombed in Ely,' 
 said Kenulph of Swaffham, ' I will break out and quit 
 this dishonoured and dishallowed community ! The 
 porter at the great gate came like me from Swaffham ; 
 Tom of Tottington, the lay-brother that waits upon 
 the sub-prior, the holder of the keys, was brought into 
 this house by me : there be other lay-brothers and 
 servientes that would do my will or thy will, O 
 Kynric, or thine, Elsin, or thine, Celred, sooner than 
 the will of the prior, and the rather since they have 
 heard of the corn and wine ! Assuredly they will 
 unbar doors and break out with us when they are told 
 that the store is so near at hand as at Turbutsey ! ' 
 
 ' An we could l)ut carry off with us our true Lord 
 Abbat Thurstan,' said Father Kynric, 'it were a 
 glorious deed.' 
 
 'But it cannot be,' quoth Kenulph, 'for the in- 
 firmarer told me anon that Thurstan is sick almost 
 to death ; and then he is watched and guarded by all 
 the keenest of the faction, and the faction is too 
 numerous and sti-ong to allow us to proceed by force, 
 
376 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 or to attempt anything save by stratagem and in 
 secrecy. But^ silence ! we are watched^ and that fox, 
 the sub-sacrist, is getting within ear-shot. So let us 
 separate, and let each of us, before going into the 
 dormitory, and into his cell, speak with such of the 
 house as he can with entire faith depend upon. I 
 will go unto the gate-keeper.' 
 
 It was the custom of the monks to walk and talk 
 in the cloisters for a space between supper and bed 
 time ; and the above discourses were made in the 
 quietest corner of the cloisters a very short time 
 before the second watch of the night. Those who 
 had made them separated, and very soon after they 
 all withdrew to the dormitory ; and the sub-prior, as 
 was the bounden duty of his office, went through the 
 dormitory and knocked at every cell-door, and called 
 upon every monk by name, and heard and saw that 
 each monk and each novice was in his cell for the 
 night. And when the sub-prior had thus fulfilled 
 what was in statutis ordinis, he went to his own 
 chamber, which was in the turret over the great gate- 
 way ; and being weary, he went straight to his bed, 
 first putting under his pillow the key of the gate, and 
 the keys of the foul dungeon into which Elfric had 
 been whirled. The prior, the chamberlain, the cel- 
 larer, and other chiefs of the faction, sate up awhile 
 in secret conference in the prior's own private cham- 
 ber ; but then they too separated and went to their 
 beds, comforting themselves with the prospect of the 
 abundance which should henceforward reign in the 
 house, and of the honours and advantages they 
 should severally receive on the morrow from Duke 
 William for their dark treason to their countrymen. 
 Being all worn out Avith fatigue, they were soon fast 
 asleep, each having proposed to himself to rise at a 
 
THE DUNGEON 377 
 
 very early hour in the morning, in order to get in 
 Lord Herewavd's supphes, and to see to the proper 
 decorating of the church for the reception of Duke 
 Wilham, and his brother the fighting bishop, and the 
 rest of the Norman crew. Above and below, the 
 whole abbey of Ely was asleep when the good fothers 
 Kynric, Elsin, Celred, Cranewys, and Kenulph, with 
 two other cloister-monks who had determined to flee 
 from the house, came one by one in perfect silence, 
 and carrying their shoes and sandals in their hands, 
 forth from the dormitory, and into the quadrangle of 
 the abbey, and then under the low arched way, where 
 the gatekeeper, that free layman from SwafFham, was 
 standing ready to unbar the gate, and where the lay- 
 brother that waited upon the sub-prior was waiting 
 for his order to begin. A word from Father Kenulph 
 in his ear, and away went the sub-prior's man up 
 into the chamber over the gateway. And before one 
 might say three credos, the lay-brother was back 
 again under the archway, Avith the four ponderous 
 keys in his hand. Then they all went into the gate- 
 keeper's room, where two cressets were burning 
 brightly ; and by that light the cloister monks saw 
 that there was blood upon the heaviest of the keys. 
 
 'Tom of Tottington,' said Kenulph, 'what is this.'' 
 What is it thou hast done .'' ' 
 
 ' Nothing ; ' said the serviens, ' but only this : the 
 sub-prior woke from his sleep as I drew the keys 
 from under his pillow, and was going to cry out and 
 alarm the house, and so I brained him. He was ever 
 a hard master unto me.' 
 
 ' Well ! ' quoth Kenulph, ' 'tis better that the sub- 
 prior perish in his sins and unconfessed, than that 
 we fail in our enterprise, and leave our friends in 
 the Camp to be taken unawares. So, Tom of Tot- 
 
378 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 tington, hurry thee down to the prison and bring up 
 Elfric.' 
 
 The churl from Tottington grew quite pale, and 
 said, ' I dare not do it ! I am no cloister-monk or 
 mass-priest, and have no Latin whereby to lay 
 spirits ! I cannot adventure into the bowels of the 
 earth to face the restless ghost of the blind prince 
 ... I cannot go alone ! ' 
 
 ' Well ! ' quoth Kenulph, who first crossed himself, 
 ' I will go with thee ; so bear the keys, and I will 
 carry the light, and say the prayer Ab hoste maligno 
 libera nos, Domine, as we go.' 
 
 The sword-bearer was still sleeping happily when 
 the monk and the lay-brother came into the dark 
 vault with the bright shining cresset ; but as the light 
 fell upon his eyelids he awoke, and saw Father 
 Kenulph standing over him ; and then he started up 
 and said, ' I have been dreaming a true dream ; for 
 when did Father Kenulph do aught but good to 
 honest man and true Saxon ! Ah ! Tom of Totting- 
 ton, art thou here too .'' Then shall I not be buried 
 alive or starved to death ! ' 
 
 ' Elfric,' said Kenulph, ' thou art safe and free, 
 so rise and follow us. But tell me, good Elfric, what 
 supply didst bring to Turbutsey ? ' 
 
 ' We loaded with corn and with wine a score of 
 upland pack-horses, and many more than a score of 
 strong asses,' said the sword-bearer. 
 
 '^'Tis well,' quoth Kenulph, licking his lips and 
 rubbing his hands, ''tis better than well! So follow 
 me, and when thou comest to the upper regions make 
 no noise, for the Lord Abbat Thurstan is deposed 
 from his authority and is sick unto death ; the abbey 
 is in the hands of the prior and his crew ; and Ave 
 and a few more honest members of the house are 
 
THE DUNGEON 379 
 
 flying from it to get to the stores at Turbutsey, and to 
 give warning to the Lord of Brunn, that the false 
 monks of Ely have sold and betrayed him.' 
 
 'I thought as much as all this/ quoth the sword- 
 bearer ; and without asking any questions, he followed 
 the cloister-monk and the lay-brother to the gate- 
 keeper's chamber, praising and blessing the saints 
 for this his so speedy deliverance. As he entered the 
 room, reverentially saluting the other cloister-monks, 
 the porter gave him his sword, which had been 
 snatched from him upon his being first seized under 
 the gateway. Next the stout porter took down some 
 swords and spears, and fen-poles, that hung in his 
 room, and armed his friends and himself with them ; 
 and then, in less than a Credo, the whole party got 
 out of the monastery through the wicket gate, and, 
 first closing and fastening the wicket on the outside, 
 they all took the broad high road that leads to Tur- 
 butsey. Six good cloister-monks, and ten good lay- 
 brothers and servientes, were there in this company ; 
 but all the rest of the convent remained behind to 
 await the slaughter of their countrymen in the Camp, 
 to welcome the Normans to Ely, and to get from them 
 — that which they deserved. Elfric and Tom of 
 Tottington (an expert fenner, and much fitter to be 
 a soldier than the waiting-man of a monk) presently 
 quitted the road to take a rough path across the fens 
 which led directly into the Camp : the rest hastened 
 on to Turbutsey, and as they arrived there before the 
 midnight, they were in good time to aid the true men 
 Elfric had left there in getting the good stores across 
 the river and well into the fens. Some of the party 
 would have left the body of Girolamo behind at 
 Turbutsey, or would have thrown it into the river ; 
 but the people said what Elfric had said to them 
 
380 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 concerning the dead body, and the fighting men who 
 had fought the Normans near Brandon, and who had 
 seen with their own eyes the Christian end the 
 Salernitan had made, all declared that Girolamo 
 must have Christian burial in some consecrated place 
 where the Normans could not disturb his ashes. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP 
 
 The Camp of Refuge, wherein the Saxons had so long 
 withstood the violent threats of the Normans, was 
 not in itself a very noticeable place. But for the 
 army and the last hopes of England collected there- 
 in, the wayfarer might have passed it without any 
 especial observation, there being several such places 
 in the Fen country, partly surrounded by embank- 
 ments of earth, and wholly girded in, and doubly or 
 trebly girded by rivers, ditches, pools, and meres. 
 The embankments had been first made, in very 
 remote ages, by those who first attempted to drain 
 parts of the fen country ; but tradition said that 
 these peaceful works had been made to serve the 
 purposes of defensive war, in those days when the 
 Iceni stood against their Roman invaders, when the 
 Britons stood against the first Saxons, and when the 
 Saxons opposed the marauding Danes. The embank- 
 ments which were made to keep out the water, and 
 confine the rivers to their beds, were proper to keep 
 out an enemy, even if he could reach them ; and the 
 fenners, who kept solely to the business of grazing, 
 fishing, and fowling, knew best how to defend and 
 how to stock such places. In the upland countries 
 men took shelter on the high hills ; but here, when 
 an enemy approached, men threw themselves within 
 
 881 
 
382 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 these flats and enclosures in the midst of the waters, 
 taking with them their herds and flocks, and their 
 hooks and nets for fishing, and their snares for 
 fowhng. At the first sound of this Norman invasion, 
 and before any Saxon lord or knight fled for refuge 
 into the Isle of Ely, the people of the country drove 
 their fattening beeves into the enclosed but wide 
 space which afterwards came to be called the Camp, 
 but which for a long season bore rather the appear- 
 ance of a gi'azing-field than that of a place of arms ; 
 and even when the Saxon lords and knights came 
 and gathered together their armed followers on that 
 green grassy spot, the space was so wide that the 
 cattle were left to remain where they were, and the 
 many cowherds and shepherds were mixed with the 
 Saxon soldiery, each by times doing the duty of the 
 other ; and now, when well-nigh everything else was 
 consumed and gone, there remained within the broad 
 limits of the Camp great droves of the finest and 
 fattest cattle. 
 
 There was no moon, and the night was of the 
 darkest, when Elfric approached the Camp, flying 
 along the ground like a lapwing. As watches were 
 set, and as the men were vigilant as became the 
 soldiers of the Lord of Brunn, he was challenged 
 sundry times before he reached his lord's tent. Here- 
 ward was asleep, but at the voice and tidings of his 
 sword-bearer he was presently up and armed, and 
 ready to go the round of the Camp. 
 
 ' Elfric,' said Hereward, ' if the traitorous monks 
 of Ely shall have called in their own people, who 
 formed our outer guard, and have given the Normans 
 the clue to the watery labyrinth which has been our 
 strength and safety so long, we may still hold out 
 against more than one assault behind the embank- 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP 383 
 
 ments of this Camp, provided only our people do not 
 get panic-stricken by the suddenness of the attack, 
 and in the darkness of this night. Would that it 
 were morning ! But come what may, there is one 
 comfort : we shall have our harness on our backs 
 before the fight begins ! ' 
 
 And having so said, the Lord of Brunn, followed 
 by his sword-bearer, went from post to post to bid the 
 men be on the alert, and from tent to tent, or from 
 hut to hut, to rouse the sleeping chiefs to tell them 
 that the monks of Ely were traitors to the good cause, 
 and that the Normans were coming ; and when this 
 was done, Hereward, Avith an unperturbed spirit^ and 
 with all that knowledge of war which he had acquired 
 beyond sea, and from the knowing Salernitan, and 
 from all that quickness which nature had given him 
 laid down his plan for defending the interior of the 
 Camp, and appointed every chief to the post he 
 should hold, speaking cheerfully to them all, and 
 telling them that five years had passed since the 
 battle of Hastings, and that England was not con- 
 quered yet ; and that if the Normans should be foiled 
 in this attack, their loss would be terrible, their 
 retreat across the fens almost impracticable. 
 
 By the time all this was said and done it was more 
 than two hours after the midnight hour, and it had 
 scarcely been done ere the war-cry of the Normans 
 was heard close under the south-western face of the 
 Camp. By using the name of the Abbat Thurstan, 
 the false prior had made the people of the abbey 
 abandon the fords in that direction ; and by the same 
 false prior's procurement, a traitorous fenner had 
 guided the Normans through the labyrinth. liut 
 there was more fatal mischief yet to proceed from 
 the same dark cauldron and source of evil. Some 
 
384 THE CAxMP OF REFUGE 
 
 other traitor, serving among the retainers of the 
 abbey that had been left quartered in the Camp, 
 because they could not be withdrawn without Lord 
 Hereward's order set up the cry that the Saxons were 
 all betrayed, and that the Normans had gotten into 
 the Camp ; and thereupon the poor bewildered wights, 
 who knew but too well that the Norman war-cry could 
 be heard where it was heard only through treachery, 
 fell into disorder and dismay, and abandoning the 
 post which they had been appointed to hold, and 
 disregarding the voice of their commander, they fled 
 across the Camp, shouting ' Treason ! treason ! Fly, 
 Saxons, fly ! ' 
 
 The Normans began to enter the Camp in over- 
 powering numbers ; and although the first glimmer- 
 ings of day began to be seen from the east, it was 
 still so dark that it was hard to distinguish between 
 friend and foe. But Hereward soon found himself at 
 the spot where the danger was greatest ; and the foe, 
 who had not yet recovered from the dread of his 
 name, halted at the shouts of 'Hereward for Eng- 
 land ! ' and were soon driven out of the Camp, with 
 a great slaughter. Whilst this was doing on the 
 south-Avestern side, another host of Normans, under 
 the same traitorous guidance, got round towards the 
 north face of the Camp, and after some hard fight- 
 ing, got over the embankment, and into the Camp. 
 Leaving a brave old Saxon earl and his people to 
 keep the ground he had recovered, Hereward rushed 
 with Elfric and his own choice band to the northern 
 side ; and although the distance was considerable, 
 his battle-axe was ringing among the Normans there 
 before they had found time to form themselves in 
 good fighting order. But Odo, the fighting bishop, 
 was among these Normans ; and thus knights and 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP 385 
 
 men-at-arms fought most valiantly, and held the 
 ground they had gained for a long time. Neverthe- 
 less, just as the rising sun was shining on the tower 
 of Ely Abbey, Odo and his host, or such of his host 
 as survived, retreated the way they had come ; but 
 while they were in the act of retreating, Duke 
 William led in person an assault on another j^art of 
 the Camp ; and on the south-west side, the brave old 
 Saxon earl being slain, his men gave way, and the 
 Normans again rushed in on that side. Also, and at 
 nearly the same instant of time, Norman spears were 
 discerned coming round upon the Camp from other 
 quarters. As he paused to deliberate whither he 
 should first direct his steps, and as he shook the 
 blood from the blade and shaft of his battle-axe — 
 a ponderous weapon which no other man then in 
 England could wield — the Lord of Brunn, still look- 
 ing serenely, bespoke his sword-bearer, ' May God 
 defend the house of Ely and the Lord Abbat ; but the 
 knavish monks have done the woi-k of treachery very 
 completely ! They must have made known unto the 
 Normans all the perilous passages of the fens. We 
 are beset all about ! But we must even drive the 
 Normans back again. Numerous are they, yet their 
 knights love not to fight on foot, and they can have 
 brought few horses or none across the swamps. But 
 Elfric, my man, thou art bleeding ! Art much 
 hurt ? ' 
 
 Now, although Elfric had got an ugly cut upon his 
 brow, he smiled, and said, ' 'Tis nothing, good my 
 Lord : 'tis only a scratch from the sharp end of 
 Bishop Odo's pastoral crook. If ho had not been so 
 timeously succoured, I would have cleft his shaven 
 crown in spite of his steel cap, or have made him a 
 prisoner ! ' 
 
 2b 
 
386 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 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 ti'ue 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 {anna 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 W^illiam 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 ! ' 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP .S87 
 
 And away from the earth-raised mound, over Avhicli 
 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 ! ' 
 
 ' Fools ! ' shouted the Lord of Brunn, ' these 
 Normans will show ye no mercy ! There is no grace 
 for ye but in your own swords ! ' And then the 
 Saxons took heart again, and rallying round Here- 
 ward, they soon charged the foe, and fought them 
 hand to hand. In their turn the Normans began to 
 yield, and to ciy for quarter ; but this band in the 
 centre was supported by another and another ; and 
 soon Duke William, and that ungodly bishop, his 
 brother, came back into the interior of the Camp, 
 with many knights and men-at-arms that had not yet 
 tasted the sharpness of the Saxon steel, and that 
 were all fresh for the combat. Louder and louder 
 waxed the war-cry on either side, and terrible and 
 strange became the scene within the wide Camp ; for 
 the cattle, scared by the loud noise, and by the clash 
 and the glittering of arms, were running wildly about 
 the Camp in the midst of the combatants ; and the 
 fierce bulls of the fens, lashing themselves into furor, 
 and turning up the soil with their horns, came 
 careering down, and breaking through the serried 
 lines of the invaders ; and many a Norman was made 
 to feel that his mail jacket was but a poor defence 
 against the sharp horns of the bull that pastured on 
 the patrimony of Saint Etheldreda. Also rose there 
 to heaven a dreadful rugitus, or roaring, mixed with 
 the loud bewailing and the shrieks of timid herdsmen, 
 and of women and children ; and the wives and chil- 
 
388 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 dren of the Saxons ran about the Camp, seeking for 
 a place of safety, and finding none. The Saxon 
 warriors were now falling fast, but the Normans fell 
 also ; and victory was still doubtful, when loud shouts 
 were heard, and another forest of lances was seen 
 coming down on the Camp from the south ; and upon 
 this, one entire body of the Saxon host threw down 
 their arms, and surrendered themselves as prisoners. 
 
 Hereward, who was leaning upon his battle-axe, 
 and wiping the sweat from his brow, said to his 
 sword-bearer, ' This is a sad sight ! ' 
 
 ' A sad sight and a shameful,' quoth Elfrie ; ' but 
 there are Saxons still that are not craven. Here our 
 lines be all unbroken.' 
 
 ' And so will we yet fight on,' quoth Hereward. 
 
 But the Lord of Brunn had scarcely said the words 
 when a number of Saxon lords, old dwellers in the 
 Camp of Refuge, and men that had fought at Hast- 
 ings, and in many a battle since, gathered round 
 Lord Hereward, and threw their swords and battle- 
 axes and dinted shields upon the ground, and told 
 him that the fight was lost, and that (r/e commwii 
 concilio magiiatum), with the common advice and con- 
 sent of the magnates, they had all determined to 
 surrender upon quarter, and take the King's peace. 
 
 Quoth the Lord of Brunn, 'Ye will not do the 
 thing ye name ! or, an ye do it, bitterly will ye rue it ! 
 Your names be all down in a book of doom : the 
 Normans will mutilate and butcher ye all ! Better 
 that ye die fighting ! The battle is not lost, if ye 
 will but think it is not. I was with King Harold at 
 the battle by Stamford Bridge, and in a worse plight 
 than now ; and yet on that day we conquered. So, 
 up hearts, my Saxon lords and thanes ! Let us make 
 one charge more for King Harold and the liberties of 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP SS9 
 
 England ! Nay^ we will make a score good charges 
 ere we die ! ' 
 
 But the magnates would not be heartened, nor take 
 up the shields and tlie arms they had thrown down ; 
 and when the reinforced battalia of the Norman 
 centre formed once more into line, and levelled their 
 spears, and when the rest of that countless Norman 
 host began to close round the Saxon army in the 
 midst of the Camp, all the fighting men that obeyed 
 tliese Saxon lords threw down their arms, and cried 
 for quarter — for forgiveness and mercy ! 
 
 Sad and sick was the heart of the Lord of Brunn ; 
 but this lasted but for a moment, and his eye was 
 bright and his face joyous as he shouted to Elfric and 
 the rest of his own devoted band, ' Let the fools that 
 court dishonour and mutilation, and an opprobrious 
 grave, stay here and yield ; but let those who would 
 live in freedom or die with honour, follow me ! We 
 will cut our way out of this foully betrayed Camp, 
 and find another Camp of Refuge where there be no 
 monks of Ely for neighbours ! ' 
 
 And at these good words three hundred stout 
 Saxons and more formed themselves into a compact 
 column, and the Lord of Brunn, with Elfric by his 
 side, put himself at the head of the column, and 
 the band shouted again, ' Hereward for England ! 
 Saxons, remember Hastings ! ' Then were heard the 
 voices of command all along the different Norman 
 lines, and from the right and from the left, from 
 behind and from before, those lines began to move 
 and to close, and to form living barriers and hedge- 
 rows of lances on every side : and next, near voices 
 were heard offering fifty marks of gold to the man 
 that should slay or seize the traitor Hereward. But 
 the Norman was not yet born that could withstand 
 
390 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the battle-axe of the Lord of Brunn : and so the 
 Norman lines yielded to his charge, and so he led his 
 three hundred Saxons and more triumphantly out of 
 the Camp and across the fens — yea, over rivers and 
 streams and many waters, w^here Normans could not 
 follow — until they came into a thick wood of willows, 
 where they found the six good cloister-monks and the 
 ten good lay-brothers who had fled with Elfric from 
 Ely Abbey, and the party of true men from Turbutsey, 
 who had carried with them the corn, meal, and wine, 
 and likewise the body of Gii-olamo of Salerno. 
 
 Loudly was the Lord of Brunn greeted by every man 
 that was in the wood. The first thing that was done 
 after his coming, was to bury the Salernitan. Near 
 the edge of the wood, and by the side of a stream, 
 the monks of Ely of the old time had built a small 
 mass-house for the conveniency of the souls of some 
 of the fanners, who could not always quit their fishing 
 and fowling and go so far as the abbey church ; and 
 on a green dry hillock, at the back of the mass-house, 
 there was a small coemeterium holding the wattled 
 graves of not a few of the fenners. 
 
 'This ground,' said Father Celred, 'is consecrated 
 ground ; the Normans will not soon get hither, and 
 we will leave no cross and make no sign to show the 
 stranger's grave ; and every man here is too true a 
 man ever to betray the secret to the Normans.' 
 
 ' And when better days come, we will provide some 
 suitable monument for the stranger who died in 
 fighting for the Saxon. Girolamo, thou art happy 
 in that thou hast not lived to see this foul morning ! 
 Father Celred, fathers all, I warrant ye he was a true 
 son of the Church, and died a good Chx'istian. So 
 withhold not to do the rites and give him Christian 
 burial.' 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP 391 
 
 Thus spake the Lord of Brunn as he gazed upon 
 the awfully placid face of the Salernitan, whose body 
 lay uncovered upon a rustic bier : and the good monks 
 all said that they doubted not, and would never doubt, 
 the word of Lord Hereward. And the Saxon hinds, 
 under the direction of Elfric, rapidly scooped out a 
 grave on the sunniest side of the green hillock, on the 
 side which faced the south and was turned toward the 
 sunny land in which the sti-anger was born ; and when 
 the grave was made, Hereward took his own good 
 mantle from his shoulders and piously wrapj)ed it 
 round the dead body to serve it instead of shroud and 
 coffin, which could not be had ; and then Father 
 Celred blessed the gi-ave, and the lay-brothers laid the 
 body reverentially in it ; and then all the monks that 
 had come from Ely said the service for the dead and 
 chanted the De profioidis. Next the earth was thrown 
 in, and the green sods, which had been removed care- 
 fully and piecemeal, were laid upon the surface and 
 joined together so as to unite and grow together in a 
 few days, making the spot look like the rest of the 
 sward : and thus, Avithout mound or withy-bound 
 hillock, without a stone or a cross, was left all that 
 could die of Girolamo the Salernitan — far, far, far 
 away from the land of his birth and of his love. Yet 
 was his lowly grave not unhonoured. 
 
 After these sad offices, Hereward and his party 
 refreshed themselves with wine and bread, and re- 
 newed their march, going in the direction of the river 
 Welland and the succursal cell at Spalding. 
 
 And meanwhile, how fared it with the Saxon idiots 
 in the camp who had cast down their weajions, and 
 trusted to Norman mercy and to Norman promises .'' 
 — How fared it? In sooth it fared witli them as the 
 Lord of Brunn had foretold, and as it ever hath 
 
392 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 fared with men that surrendered when they ought to 
 have fought on. The conquerors, in summing up 
 the amount of the harm they did to the Camp of 
 Refuge, counted not the Hves of the churls and serfs 
 — which went for nothing in their eyes — but they put 
 down that they slew, after the fight was over, of 
 Saxon nobles and knights and fighting-men of gentle 
 blood, more than a thousand. But happy those who 
 were slain outright ! A thousandfold worse the fate 
 of those that were let live : their right hands and 
 their right feet were cut off, their eyes were put out, 
 and they were cast upon the wide world to starve, 
 or were thrown into loathsome dungeons to rot, or 
 transported beyond the seas to exhibit their misery 
 to the scornful eyes of the people of Normandie and 
 Anjou, to remain living monuments of Duke William's 
 vengeance, and to be a terror to such as presumed to 
 dispute his authority. In this way some of the noblest 
 of the land were sent into Normandie. Egelwin, 
 the good Bishop of Durham, being found in the Camp, 
 was sent a close prisoner to Abingdon, where he died 
 shortly after of a broken heart. Never yet heard we 
 of a fight more noble than that of the Camp of Refuge, 
 while the Lord of Brunn was there and the Saxons in 
 heart to fight ; and never yet was there a sadder scene 
 than that which followed upon his departure thence ! 
 Except cattle and sheep, and armour and arms, and 
 human bodies to hack and destroy, the Normans found 
 scarcely anything in the Camp, wherein they had 
 expected to make great booty. 
 
 And how fared it with the guilty prior and the 
 traitorous monks of Ely ? Did they profit by their 
 great treason .'' Were peace and joy their lot when 
 the blood of their countrymen had been poured out 
 like water ? Did they and their house thrive after all 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP 393 
 
 that torture and horror in the Camp ? Not so ! not 
 so ! Those who deal in treachery reap treachery for 
 their reward; and all men hate and scorn even the 
 traitors who have most served them. Before the 
 butchery in the Camp was well over, a great band of 
 Normans ran to the abbey and took forcible possession 
 of it, and beat and reviled the monks because they 
 did not bring forth the money and the bread and wine 
 which they had not to give ; and these rude soldiers 
 lodged themselves in the house, and turned all the 
 monks into the barns and outhouses — all but a few, 
 who remonstrated and resisted, and who were there- 
 fore thrown into that noxious prison underground 
 into which they had cast Elfric the night before. 
 And on the morrow of the fight in the Camp, the 
 Norman Duke himself went up to the abbey with all 
 his great chiefs, saying that he would pay his devotions 
 at the shrine of Saint Etheldreda, albeit she was but 
 a Saxon saint. And William did go into the church, 
 and kneel at the shrine of the saint. Yea, he did 
 more than this, for he laid his offering upon the shrine. 
 But what was the princely offering of this great prince 
 who ruled on both sides of the sea i* — It was just one 
 single mark of gold, and that a mark which had been 
 in the hands of the Jews and clipped ! And when he 
 had made this splendid donation, he called the monks 
 together in the hall, and told them that they must pay 
 unto him a thousand marks of gold as the price of his 
 pardon for the long rebellion they had been in. And 
 when the chapfallen chamberlain said, and said truly, 
 that there was no money in the house, a sneering Nor- 
 man knight told him that there were Jews at Norwich, 
 and that the monks must get money by pledging their 
 lands and by giving bonds to the Israelites. The good 
 Abbat Thurstan, being still sick in his bed, escaped 
 
394 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 the sight of much of this woe : but when the prior 
 knelt at the foot of Duke WiUiam, and said that he 
 trusted he would be merciful to the ruined house, and 
 continue him as the head of it, and sanction his elec- 
 tion by the brotherhood as lord abbat, the Duke swore 
 his great oath, ' by the splendour of God's face/ that 
 he was not so minded ; and that Abbat Thurstan 
 should be abbat still, inasmuch as he was a man of 
 noble birth and of a noble heart. Sundry great Saxon 
 lords, who had long since made their peace with the 
 Norman, had spoken well for the high-born Thurstan ; 
 but that which decided the mind of Duke William 
 was the reflection that, if so true and stout a man as 
 Thurstan promised him his allegiance, he would prove 
 true to his promise at whatsoever crisis ; while no faith 
 or trust could be put in the jjromises and vows of such 
 a man as the prior. And thus Thurstan was told on 
 his sick-bed that his rule was restored, and that he 
 should be allowed to appoint and have a new set of 
 officials, instead of the prior, the chamberlain, the 
 sacrist, and sub-sacrist, the cellarer, and all the rest 
 that had been rebellious and traitorous unto him — 
 provided only that he would promise to be at peace 
 with the Normans. And, after Thurstan had been 
 most solemnly assured by some of the Saxon thanes 
 who came to the abbey with the Conquerer, that King 
 Harold, his benefactor, was assuredly dead, and lay 
 buried in Waltham Abbey, and that good terms would 
 be granted to his friend my Lord of Brunn if he 
 would but cease the hopeless contest, Thurstan pro- 
 mised to live in peace and to think no more of 
 resistance : and before Duke William departed from 
 the house of Ely the lord abbat saluted him as King 
 of England, and put his hand into his hand as a 
 token and pledge that he was and would be true and 
 
THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP 395 
 
 liege man unto him. It cost his Saxon heart a pang 
 which ahuost made it crack ; but having thus pledged 
 himself, nothing upon earthy being earthly, would 
 ever make Thurstan untrue to the Norman. 
 
 In leaving the abbey, the Conqueror did not remove 
 with him all the Normans. On the contrary, he 
 called up still more knights and men-at-arms, and 
 ordered them all to quarter themselves upon the 
 monks, and be by them entertained with meat, drink, 
 and pay, as well as lodging. The Norman knights 
 and soldiers kept possession of the best parts of the 
 house, respecting only the inner apartments of the 
 restored abbat : the knights suspended their arms 
 and shields in the great hall, where the arms of the 
 Saxon thanes had lately hung, and in the refectory at 
 every meal-time a hungry Norman soldier was seated 
 by the side of every monk. This was a strange and 
 unseemly sight to see in the common hall of so noble 
 and once so religious a house ; but it was the will of 
 the Conqueror that it should be so, and the monks 
 had brought down all these mischiefs upon their own 
 heads. From the lands and revenues especially 
 appertaining to Thurstan as lord abbat, the Norman 
 knights were not allowed to take much ; but upon 
 those appertaining to the monks in common, they fell 
 without restriction and without remorse, seizing a 
 manor here and a manor there, and getting them 
 converted into heritable property, to their heirs for 
 ever, by grant and fief-charter from Duke William. 
 And while so many broad hides were taken from 
 them for good, the monks wei'e compelled to pledge 
 other lands, and the very revenues of the shrines, in 
 order to pay the imposed fine of a thousand marks, 
 and in order to find meat and drink, and whatsoever 
 else was demanded by their rapacious guests. Sad 
 
3Q6 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 grew the monks of Ely, and every clay thinner. The 
 knights and men-at-arms ever helped themselves 
 first, and very often left their unwilling hosts nothing 
 to eat. The proverb about the glorious feast of the 
 monks of Ely seemed to have become nothing but a 
 proverb, or the mere legend of a state of happiness 
 which had passed away never to return. Greater 
 still had been the woes of the monks if the restored 
 abbat had been prone to spite and vengeance, for the 
 Normans were willing to put a rod of iron in his 
 hands, and would have rejoiced to see him use it ; but 
 Thurstan had a forgiving heart, and when he had 
 deprived the worst of the officials of their offices, and 
 had gotten the prior and the chamberlain removed to 
 other houses far away from tiie Isle of Ely, he took 
 pity upon all the rest of the convent, and did what 
 in him lay to comfort them in their afflictions, and to 
 supply their wants from his own store. Thus lived 
 the monks, and thus the abbat, for about the space of 
 three years : at the end of that time the good old 
 Thurstan died, and was interred in the chancel among 
 his mitred predecessors. And then still worse befel 
 the monks; for Duke William, or his brother Odo, 
 Bishop of Bayeux, brought over one of their most 
 fighting and turbulent monks from Normandie, and 
 made him lord abbat of Ely ; and this new abbat did 
 not cease from persecuting the Saxon monks until 
 two-thirds of them were in their graves, and their 
 places supplied by French monks. These were the 
 things which befel the convent after their foul rebel- 
 lion against Abbat Thurstan, and their fouler betrayal 
 of the Camp of Refuge, 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 A FIRE AND A RESCUE 
 
 It was dark night before the Lord of Brunn and his 
 party got near unto the river Welland and Spalding, 
 and great had been their speed to get thither so soon. 
 As they halted near the river-bank, under cover of 
 some willows, they saw boats filled with Normans 
 passing and repassing, and heard them hailing one 
 another. In remarking upon this to his lord, the 
 sword-bearer said, ' Our barks on these watei's have 
 been overpowered ! The Normans have been trying 
 to encompass us by water as well as by land. No 
 marvel were it to me to find them on every river 
 between this and Trent or Humber ; but it is not they 
 that will stop good fenmen like us.' 
 
 ' Yet we be come hither in good time, for they may 
 be preparing to lay siege to my ladie in the moated 
 manor house. I would wager my best trained hawk 
 against a kestrel that Ivo Taille-Bois is come hither- 
 ward from Stamford to recover what he calls his 
 own ! ' So said Lord Hereward. 
 
 Quoth Elfric : ' An Ivo be here, we will beat him 
 and catch him again ! And when we catch him, we 
 will not let him go, as we did, my lord, on the happy 
 day of thy marriage.' 
 
 While they were thus discoursing with low voices 
 among the willow-trees, a great and bright light was 
 
 397 
 
398 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 suddenly seen in the direction of Spalding, from 
 which they were still distant some three old English 
 miles. At first they thought it was but a beacon-fire 
 lighted by the Normans, or perhaps by the Saxons ; 
 but the light grew and spread very fast, and showed 
 itself as a portentous blaze, and sparks were seen 
 flying upwards into the murky night-air, and then a 
 great body of smoke came rolling before the night- 
 wind, which was bloAving freshly down the river. 
 Hereward uttered the name of his wife the Ladie 
 Alftrude, Elfric uttered the name of Mildred, and 
 both said a hurried prayer, for each believed that the 
 Normans had set fire to the manor-house. In an 
 instant the whole band was again in motion, rushing 
 rapidly but silently along the willow-fringed bank of 
 the Welland ; but when they got nearer and came to 
 a turn of the river, they made out that the fire was 
 not on this, but on the other side of the river, and 
 that, instead of the manor house, it must be either 
 the succursal cell or the poor little township of 
 Spalding that was in a blaze. And when they got 
 nearer still, they saw that it was the little town ; but 
 they also saw that the cell was beleaguered, and that 
 many armed men, carrying torches in their hands, 
 were crossing the river aud running towards the 
 manor-house. 
 
 'Unto the blessed saints be the praise,' said Lord 
 Hereward, 'but we be come just in time! My 
 Saxons true, leave here among the willows the wine 
 and stores, and let us forward to the rescue of the 
 Ladie Alftrude and mine infant son. Be quiet till 
 you reach the end of the causey, on which they are 
 gathering their force, and then shout and fall on ! ' 
 
 Away went the Saxons among the willows and tall 
 rushes, until they came close to the causey which led 
 
A FIRE AND A RESCUE 399 
 
 from the bank of the river to the moated manor- 
 house, and which was hard and dry now, although in 
 the winter season it was for the most part under 
 water. The Normans, who were making an exceeding 
 great noise themselves, heard not the little unavoid- 
 able noise made by Lord Hereward's people ; and 
 notwithstanding the light thrown up by the burning 
 town, the Frenchmen saw not more of the Saxons 
 than they heard of them, until they set up their 
 shouts of ' Hereward for England ! The Saxons to 
 the rescue ! ' And scarcely had the first of these 
 shouts ceased to be echoed ere Hereward and his true 
 men were upon the causey and hewing down the 
 astounded enemy, of whom not a few were without 
 their arms, for they had been bringing across the 
 river great beams and planks wherewith to cross the 
 moat of the manor-house. The Normans that were 
 still on the opposite side of the river, beleaguering 
 the succursal cell, came down to their boats and 
 attempted to cross over to succour their countrymen 
 on the causey ; but Lord Hereward posted fifty good 
 archers among the willows at the very edge of the 
 watei', and, taking good aim in the red fire-light, 
 these good bowmen sent such fatal flights of arrows 
 into the boats that the Noi*mans put back in dismay : 
 and the boats which had been going up and down the 
 river, full of armed men, took all to flight upon 
 hearing the shouts of ' Hereward for England,' and 
 never stopped until they got out of the Welland into 
 the broad Wash, where the Conqueror, by the advice 
 of the false Danes, had collected a fleet of ships. At 
 these good signs some of the town folk of Spalding, 
 who had fled into the fens to escape the Norman fury, 
 returned towards their burning town and threatened 
 the rear of their foe ; and some other of the town 
 
400 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 folk, who had thrown themselves into the cell to 
 assist the true monks who had driven out the false 
 ones, now joined in shouting ' Hereward for Eng- 
 land ' ; and getting to the house-top, assailed their 
 beleaguerers with arrows and javelins, and whatso- 
 ever else they could get to hurl at them. Thus stood 
 the Norman host, part on one side of the river and 
 part on the other, and no communication between 
 them. Yet when those on the causey were joined by 
 a great band that had been up to the manor-house, 
 they were far more numerous than the Saxon party. 
 With the band that came down from the manor-house 
 was Ivo Taille-Bois himself; and his people shouted 
 as he came upon the ground where battle had been 
 joined, ' A Taille-Bois ! a Taille-Bois ! ' 
 
 The Lord of Brunn, who had made a good free 
 space with his own single battle-axe, now cried out in 
 his loudest and cheeriest voice, ' Welcome, O Ivo 
 Taille-Bois ! I as good as told thee on my wedding- 
 day at Ey that we should meet again ! Ivo, all that 
 I ask of thee now is that thou wilt not turn from me ! 
 Ivo Taille-Bois, this is a fair field ! Here is good 
 hard ground, and no fen-pool ; so. Sir Ivo, stand 
 forward, and let thee and me prove which is the 
 better man and the better knight ! ' 
 
 But Ivo, remembering still the battle of Hastings 
 and the weight of Lord Hereward's battle-axe — albeit 
 it was but a stripling's arm then wielded it — would 
 not stand forward ; and he only cried from among his 
 men-at-arms and the knights that were with him, 
 ' This is no fair field, and I have no horse, and a 
 knight should engage in single combat only on horse- 
 back ; and thou art no true knight, but only a priest- 
 made knight, and a rebel and traitor ! ' 
 
 ' For the last thou liest in thy throat,' quoth the 
 
A FIRE AND A RESCUE 401 
 
 Lord of Brunn, ' I am a free and true Saxon fight- 
 ing for his country against invaders and robbers ! 
 Thou art but a beast to make thy valour depend upon 
 a four-legged creature ! But since thou wilt not 
 stand forth and try thy strength and skill with me 
 here in this good space between our two hosts, I will 
 come and seek thee in the midst of thy people. So, 
 Ivo, look to thyself ! ' 
 
 And having thus spoken, the Lord of Brunn waved 
 his battle-axe over his head and sprang forward, and 
 Elfric went close by his side, and the boldest of his 
 Saxons followed him, shouting again, ' Hereward for 
 England ! Saxons to the rescue of the Ladie Alftrude ! ' 
 And so loud were these shouts that they were heard 
 afar off on either side of the river, and were given back 
 not only by the true men in the succursal cell and by 
 the returning townsfolk of Spalding but also by the 
 staunch little garrison which had been left by the Ladie 
 Alftrude in the moated manor-house. The torches 
 which the Normans had been carrying were all extin- 
 guished and thrown away, and moon or star was none, 
 but the ruddy flames from the burning town still gave 
 light enough for the good aiming of sword, pike, and 
 battle-axe. For a time the Normans stood their ground 
 on the causey, and did manfully enough ; but when 
 Ivo Taille-Bois saw the carnage the Lord of Brunn was 
 making, and saw that his battle-axe was opening a path 
 through his dense phalanx to the spot where he stood, 
 he bade his trumpet sound a retreat. Ivo could not 
 have done a worse thing, for so soon as his men began 
 to retreat they got into a panic ; and while some ran 
 along the causey, others quitted that road and ran into 
 the fens. Nay, Ivo himself was swept from the road, 
 and compelled to run for it across a broad marsh where 
 there was at this season little water, but much mud. 
 2c 
 
402 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Lord Hereward, who saw him go, said to his sword- 
 bearer, ' That big bully of Angevin is not worth my 
 following : go, Elfrie, and bring him hither ; you will 
 find him somewhere there among the bulrushes. He 
 will surrender ; so slay him not, but bring him here 
 alive, and we will keep him and teach him to lead a 
 fen life.' 
 
 And while Elfrie went in pursuit of Sir Ivo, other 
 Saxons followed the Normans that were running along 
 the causey and throwing away their arms to run the 
 lighter, until they saw them a good way beyond the 
 manor-house ; and other Saxons going into the fens 
 slew many of the unskilled Normans who had fled 
 thitherward and stuck in the mud. On the opposite 
 side of the river the Norman force which had been 
 assaulting the cell was now in full flight for Stamford : 
 in all its parts the army of the viscomte was discomfited 
 and shamefully routed. Deep in the mud and among 
 the bulrushes, and helpless as he was when with his 
 brother GeofFroy he lay floundering in the fen pool 
 near Ey, Elfrie and the score of merry men he took 
 with him found great Ivo Taille-Bois with two Norman 
 knights as helpless as himself; and upon being sum- 
 moned by the sword-bearer and threatened by the 
 Saxon soldiers, Ivo and the two knights crawled out of 
 the mud upon their hands and knees, and gave them- 
 selves up as prisoners to Hereward the Kiiight and 
 Lord of Brunn, for Ivo could call him knight now, ay, 
 knight and lord ! 
 
 When the great viscomte and so-called nephew of the 
 Conquei'or was brought into the presence of Hereward, 
 that merry Saxon lord could not but laugh at the woe- 
 ful figure he made : and he said, smiling all the while, 
 ' O Sir Ivo, this is the second time we meet, and each 
 time thou comest before me in very dirty plight ! But, 
 
A FIRE AND A RESCUE 403 
 
 Ivo, the mud and slime of our fens are not so foul as 
 the work thou hast each time had in hand ! At Ey thou 
 thoughtest to have surprised a defenceless maiden, 
 and here hast thou been coming against a young 
 matron, my right noble wife, and a poor defenceless 
 little township and a handful of monks. Ivo, thou art 
 a big man and hast a big voice, yet art thou but a 
 braggart and coward ! 'Tis well thou hast not had 
 time to do mischief at the manor-house, for hadst thou 
 done any, I would have hacked thee to pieces ! As it 
 stands, thou art my prisoner, nor will I ever hear of 
 ransom.' 
 
 Then Taille-Bois hung down his head, and said no 
 word, except that he hoped the Lord of Brunn would 
 yet remember that by marriage they were as good as 
 cousins. 
 
 The townfolk of Spalding and the true and now 
 relieved monks came across the river in the boats 
 which the Normans had left behind them, and saluted 
 and did honour to Hereward ; nor did they forget 
 Elfric, who had lived so long among them ; and as they 
 as yet knew nought of what had befallen the Saxons 
 that morning in the Camp of Refuge, these poor men 
 were all jubilant beyond measure. 
 
 It was not an hour since Hereward first fell upon the 
 Normans in the causey, and everything that he could 
 do for this night was already done. He bade Elfric 
 count the prisoners and the number of the slain. 
 Without counting those who had perished in the fens, 
 more than two score Normans lay stark dead on the 
 causey. More were wounded, but not half a score of 
 Saxons were slain. The exceeding great light which 
 had come from the burning town was now dying away, 
 for the flames had consumed everything that was con- 
 sumable in Spalding. But many torches were soon 
 
404 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 lighted, and by their light the Lord of Brunn and his 
 faithful sword-bearer marched hastily towards the 
 manor-house, over which their hearts had long been 
 hovering; and they were followed thitherward by Ivo 
 Taille-Bois and the rest of the prisoners, and by a part 
 of the Saxon force, the rest of those three hundred true 
 men being left to guard the river and the succursal 
 cell. 
 
 At the sound of his horn the drawbridge was lowered 
 and the gates of the manor-house were thrown open 
 to the Lord of Brunn ; and then was there happy 
 meeting in the hall with the Ladie Alftrude and the 
 maid Mildred — so happy that Here ward and Elfric 
 forgot for the time the shame and woe of that bloody 
 morning, and the young dame and the maiden forgot 
 their own late agony and danger ; nor was it when the 
 ladie brought her first-born son, rosy from his sleep, and 
 put him in the arms of his glad sire, and when maid 
 Mildred hung upon the arm of the sword-bearer and 
 called him her deliverer, and said that she would never 
 more leave him, but go whithersoever he might go, 
 that these sad things could be brought back to the 
 mind, or that either Hereward or Elfric could recollect 
 that henceforward they and those who were dearest 
 unto them must lead a wandering life in the wilds and 
 the fens. Nay, when a cheerful fire was lit in the 
 great hall, and the tables were well spread, and the 
 drinking-horns well filled, every good Saxon present 
 seemed to think that this joy must last. 
 
 Yet if, in the morning after this happy meeting, 
 there came sad thoughts and many and much sadder 
 recollections, there was no craven panic, nor so much 
 as any visible perturbation or confusion. Fir serenissi- 
 mus, a most serene and imperturbable man, was the 
 Lord of Brunn, and to this high quality of his nature 
 
A FIRE AND A RESCUE 405 
 
 was mainly owing all that he had done and all that 
 he lived to do afterwards. The Ladie Alftriide was 
 worthy to mate with such a lord ; and their serenity 
 made serene and confident all those that were about 
 them. And therefore was it that when the foul 
 treason at Ely was made known to all of them, and 
 when much more bad news was brought in, as that the 
 Normans had stormed and taken the ladie's manor- 
 house at Ey and the lord's manor-house at Brunn, and 
 had been admitted again into Crowland Abbey, these 
 good Saxons lost not heart and abated not of hope, but 
 vowed that they would fight to the last for Lord Here- 
 ward, and be true to him in every extremity. 
 
 All things were got ready for a retreat into the 
 furthest parts of Lincolnshire, or into the impenetrable 
 country upon the Wash, as expediency might dictate ; 
 for it was thought that the Normans, being so near, 
 would not delay in bringing a great army against 
 Spalding manor-house^ and in making the most desper- 
 ate efforts to seize the last great Saxon lord that was 
 now in arms against them. But the autumn season 
 was now at hand, and it was so ordained that the 
 heavy rains set in earlier than usual, and fell more 
 heavily and lasted longer than common, in such sort 
 that the fens were laid under water and the roads made 
 impassable. And although many boats of all sorts and 
 sizes were collected, they could not be used, for a fresh 
 gathering on the Scottish border constrained Duke 
 William to turn his attention thitherward and to 
 despatch to the river Tyne and to the river Tweed 
 many of the warriors and shipmen that had been 
 collected to complete the subjugation of the fen 
 country. When these Normans were gone. Lord 
 Hereward drove their monks once more from Crow- 
 land Abbey, and got possession of his house at Brunn 
 
406 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 and of the stores which had been there deposited ; 
 and after making many good forays into the upland 
 country, he brought his brave fenners back to Spalding, 
 together with a good number of Norman prisoners, 
 of whom some were of high degree. The poor un- 
 housed townfolk of Spalding found shelter for the 
 winter in the large manor-house and in the succursal 
 cell, or in Crowland Abbey, keeping themselves ready 
 to move in the spring with the Lord of Brunn and his 
 warlike band. There was abundance of wine and 
 corn, and meat and fish, and all good things in this new 
 Camp of Refuge ; and the winter passed merrily away, 
 with all due observation made of saints' days and of all 
 the feast days the Saxon Church had appointed. But one 
 feast there was which was more joyous than all the rest ; 
 and that was given by the Lord of Brunn, ever free of 
 hand and large of soul, a short time before the quin- 
 zaine of the Nativity, when Elfric and Mildred were 
 made man and wife. Their hands were joined by the 
 same Alefricus Diaconus who had been Lord Hereward's 
 mass-priest at Brunn, and who had performed the 
 marriage-rites for his lord and the Ladie Alftrude at 
 Ey. But the true-hearted monks of Spalding, and 
 the monks that had fled from Ely, took part in the 
 ceremony in the chapel, as afterwards in the feast in 
 the hall ; for notwithstanding all the mischief that the 
 monks of Ely had done him, Hereward was still homo 
 monachorum, or a lover of monks — provided only they 
 were true Saxon monks, and had no dealings with tlie 
 Normans. But all true Saxons and bold fenners for 
 many miles round feasted at Spalding on Elfrics wed- 
 ding day ; the freedmen being entertained according 
 to their degree, and the churls and serfs according to 
 their degrees. Alefric, the deacon, put these things 
 into a bookj but the pages are now missing. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 HEREWARD STILL FIGHTS 
 
 At the return of spring Duke William being at 
 Warwick Castle, on the pleasant river Avon, gave 
 forth his mandate for the collecting of a great army 
 to proceed against the Lord of Brunn. Much had it 
 vexed and grieved his proud soul that Hereward 
 should have escaped from the Camp of Refuge in the 
 Isle of Ely, and have made his name terrible in other 
 parts ; for, during the winter, Peterborough and 
 Stamford — ay, Grantham and Newark — had heard 
 the war-cry of the Lord of Brunn, and the Normans 
 there had been plundered by his band; and further 
 still, where Nottingham looks down upon Trent, 
 Hereward had carried his successful foray. ' By the 
 splendour,' quoth Duke William, as he thought upon 
 those things, ' I would give back all the Saxon lives 
 that were taken near Ely for the life of this one man, 
 who hath more power of mischief in him than all the 
 Saxons put together. Or I would give to him the 
 broadest earldom in all England if he would but 
 submit and be my liege-man ! I need such a soldier, 
 for the men that followed me from Normandie are 
 become all rich in this fat land, and risk not them- 
 selves in battle as they used to do when their fortunes 
 were to make by sword and lance. This shall be 
 thought of again, albeit my half-brother Odo and all 
 
 •107 
 
408 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 my Normans have vowed the death of that terrible 
 Lord of Brunn, and tliink that every hide of land left 
 to a Saxon is so much robbed from them.' 
 
 During the spring months another mighty host was 
 collected from out of the several shires of Huntingdon, 
 Cam-Bridge, Leicester, Nottingham, Derby, Warwick, 
 and others; and viscomtes and comtes, and knights 
 of great fame and long experience in war, were placed 
 in command, and were ordered to encompass the 
 Lord of Brunn, and make an end of him or of his 
 resistance. No stores were spared ; nothing was 
 spared that was thought likely to forward the one 
 great object. Scarcely had William made a greater 
 array of strength when he first landed at Pevensey, 
 to march against King Harold at Hastings. 
 
 But Hereward, that cunning captain and excellent 
 soldier {inclytus miles) was not idle during this season : 
 he went hither and thither thi'oughout the country 
 on the Wash and the whole fen country, calling upon 
 the fenners to be steady and true to him and their 
 native land ; and to get their bows and arrows ready, 
 and to sharpen such swords and axes, or bill-hooks 
 and spear-heads, as they might have ; and to be ever 
 in a state of readiness to fight, if fighting could stead 
 them, or to retreat with their cattle into the inac- 
 cessible places and the labyrinths among the waters 
 and the meres. And the wandering menestrels and 
 gleemen, who had been driven hitherward from all 
 other parts of England, with Elfric, who was as good 
 a gleeman as any of the number, went from] one 
 township in the fens to another, singing the Saxon 
 songs which did honour to the Lord of Brunn, and 
 told how often he had prevailed in fight over the 
 Norman invaders. And at the sound of these songs 
 the fenners gave up their peaceful occupations and 
 
HERE WARD STILL FIGHTS 409 
 
 prepared for war ; while many hundreds went at once 
 to join the standard of the Lord of Brunn. The men 
 of Holland mounted themselves on their tall stilts, 
 and came wading across marsh and mere unto the 
 manor-house of Spalding ; others came thither in 
 their light skerries ; others came on foot, with their 
 fen-poles in their hands, leaping such waters and 
 drains as could be leaped, and swimming across the 
 rest like the water-fowls of the fens. Loud blew the 
 Saxon horn everywhere ; the monks of Ely could 
 hear it in their cells by night, and their guests the 
 Norman warriors, who ventured not to come forth 
 beyond Hadenham or Turbutsey, could hear it in the 
 hall or refectory by day. The country seemed all 
 alive and stirring, and full of strange sights ; but the 
 strangest sight of all was that of the men from the 
 shores of the Wash marching in troops on their high 
 stilts, carrying their bows and quivers and swords and 
 pikes at their backs, and looking, at a distance, with 
 their long wooden shanks and their bodies propped 
 in the air, like troops of giant ci*anes or hei'ons. 
 And ever as they went, and whether they went upon 
 stilts or upon their own feet, or in flitting skerries, or 
 in heavier and slower boats, these brave fenners sung 
 in chorus the good songs which they had learned from 
 the gleemen. In this wise the Lord of Brunn had a 
 great force collected and in arms by the time of 
 summer, when the waters had abated and the green 
 fields were showing themselves, and the Normans 
 were beginning to march, in the fantastic hope of 
 encircling Hereward as hunters gird in a beast of 
 prey. There were no traitors here, as at Ely, to 
 show the short and safe ways across the fens ; and 
 Ivo Taille-Bois, the only Norman chief that could be 
 said to know a little of the wild and difficult country, 
 
410 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 was a close prisoner in the house at Spalding, where 
 lie tried to beguile the tedium of his captivity by 
 playing almost constantly at dice with the two 
 Norman knights who had been captured with him in 
 the marsh. Add to all this that the Normans, who had 
 not before tried what it was to make war in the fens, 
 had a contempt of their enemy, and a measureless 
 confidence in their own skill and prowess, and it will 
 be understood that their discomfiture was unavoid- 
 able. They came down from the upland country in 
 separate bodies^ and towards points far apart; and 
 before they could place themselves, or contract their 
 intended circle and give the hand to one another, 
 Hereward attacked them separately, and beat them 
 one by one. Nor did the Normans fare much better 
 when they gave up their plan of circle and united 
 their forces in one head. The Lord of Brunn, who 
 had counted upon being driven from Spalding into 
 the wilderness, found not only that he could maintain 
 himself there, but that he could also hold his own 
 good house at Brunn ; for, Avhen the Norman host 
 marched upon that manor, they fell into an ambus- 
 cade he had laid for them, and suffered both loss and 
 shame, and then fled from an enemy they had hardly 
 seen ; for the fenners had willow-trees for their 
 shields, or they had bent their bows in the midst of 
 the tall growing rushes. Thus passed the summer 
 months ; and Duke William was still on the northern 
 borders, fighting against Malcolm Caenmore ; and as 
 that Scots war became more and more obstinate, the 
 Duke was compelled to call to his aid nearly the 
 whole of his splendid chivalry, and almost every 
 Norman foot-soldier that he could prudently withdraw 
 from England. With such mighty forces Duke 
 William marched from the left bank of the Tweed to 
 
HERE WARD STILL FIGHTS 411 
 
 end of the Frith of Forth, and all through the 
 Lothians : and thereupon the Scots king, albeit he 
 would not deliver up the Saxon nobles who had taken 
 refuge at his court, came and agreed with Duke 
 William, and delivered hostages, and promised to be 
 his man. But by this time another year was spent, 
 and the fens were again impracticable ; and, more- 
 over, the Norman conqueror was compelled to tarry 
 long at Durham, in order to settle the north country. 
 
 Before the quinzane of this Nativity the goodly 
 stock of Lord Hereward was increased by the birth of a 
 daughter, and Elfric was a father. The two children 
 were baptized on the same day ; and at the feast, 
 which was given in the same hall at Spalding wherein 
 Ivo Taille-Bois and the Ladie Lucia had given their 
 great feast for the christening of their first-born, the 
 merry sword-bearer said, 'W^ell, we be still here ! 
 and it is now my opinion that I shall be a grandfather 
 before the Normans shall drive us out of the fens ! ' 
 The carefully guarded Norman prisoners of rank and 
 note were very sad ; but Ivo Taille-Bois was the 
 saddest of them all on this festal day, for his wife and 
 child were far away from him, living under the 
 protection of the primate Lanfranc at Canterbury, 
 and, much as he had tried, he could get no news of 
 them ; nor could he see any prospect of regaining his 
 liberty, inasmuch as the Lord of Brunn declared that 
 he wanted not money, and was determined to keep 
 him and his men as hostages. 
 
 With another year there came fresh preparation 
 for invading the fen coiuitry, and giving the death- 
 blow to Saxon liberty by destroying Hereward. But 
 again the saints befriended the last of the Saxons, for 
 great commotions burst out in Normandie, and in the 
 county of Maine the people rose to a man against the 
 
412 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 tyrannies and oppressions of Duke William ; and 
 thus the Conqueror was constrained to pass over into 
 France with all the troops he could collect. Before 
 he went he sent once more to offer a free pardon to 
 the Lord of Brunn and a few of his adherents ; but 
 Hereward said that^ in fighting for the liberties and 
 old laws of his country, he had not done that which 
 called for pardon : and as the terms proposed were 
 otherwise inadmissible, the Lord of Brunn had rejected 
 them all, and had told the proud Duke that he would 
 yet trust to his sword, and to the brave fenners, and 
 to the inexpugnable country he had so long occupied. 
 Aided by many thousands of native English soldiei's 
 whom he earned over with him into Normandie and 
 Maine, and who there fought most valorously for him, 
 Duke William conquered the men of Maine and 
 reduced them to his obedience. But this occupied 
 him many months ; and when he returned into Eng- 
 land, it was to put down another insurrection and a 
 widespread conspiracy, which were headed not by the 
 Saxon nobles, but by Roger Fitz-Osborne, Raoul de 
 Gael, and other nobles of Noi-man or French birth, 
 who were not satisfied with the vast estates and high 
 titles they had obtained in England, but wanted more, 
 and had long been saying that William the Bastard 
 was a tyrant in odium with all men, and that his 
 death would gladden their hearts. Battles were 
 fought and sieges were made before the Duke had 
 triumphed over this confederacy ; and while he was 
 thus fighting and laying sieges, the Lord of Brunn 
 reigned as a king in the fen country, and kept all the 
 countries thereunto adjacent in a state of constant 
 alarm. The herds and flocks of Hereward and his 
 associates inci*eased and multiplied the while ; the 
 drained and enclosed grounds gave their bountiful 
 
HEREWARD STILL FIGHTS 413 
 
 crops ; the rivers and meres seemed more than ever to 
 abound with fish and -wild-fowl ; and whatsoever else 
 was wanted was supplied by successful forays to the 
 upland countries and to the sea-coasts : so great was 
 the plenty, that even the poor bondmen often ate 
 wheaten bread — white loaves which might have been 
 put upon the table of my Lord Abbat of Ely. The 
 Ladie Alftrude and the wife of the sword-bearer were 
 again mothers (so gracious were the saints unto 
 them !) ; and Elfric's first-born son was grown big 
 enough to show a marvellous similitude to his father, 
 specialiter about the laughing mouth and merry eyes. 
 
 Having nothing else upon hand for that present, 
 William sent another great army to try their fortunes 
 in the fen countiy ; and (grieves me to say !) many of 
 these soldiers were native English, and some few of 
 them men from the Isle of Ely, who had experience 
 in fen-warfare. Now was the manor-house of Brunn 
 I'etaken, and now was Lord Hereward compelled to 
 abandon Spalding, and to get him gone into the heart 
 of Lincolnshire with his family and his people, and all 
 his friends, and his Norman prisoners ; but he drove 
 off his cattle with him, and he found other herds 
 where he went ; and he found, moreover, subjugated 
 townships and Norman town-governors unprepared to 
 resist him. Some men do say that he had with him 
 scant three hundred fighting men ; but he flitted so 
 rapidly from place to place, and so multiplied his 
 attacks, that the Normans ever thought he had many 
 thousands. And when the great Norman army 
 marched against him in Lindsey in the north, Here- 
 ward doubled them, and marched back to the south 
 into Kesteven ; and when they came to look for him 
 in Kesteven, either he was back in Lindsey, or con- 
 tinuing his course to the south, he got him into 
 
414 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 Holland and that flooded country near the Wash, 
 where the Normans never could penetrate, and where 
 every man that lived and went upon tall stilts was 
 his liegeman. Here, in Holland, and in perfect 
 safety, chiefly abided the Ladie Alftrude, and the 
 women and children, and the Norman prisoners. 
 The name of the Lord of Brunn Avas more than ever 
 sounded throughout broad England, and from the 
 Wash to the H umber it was a name of dread to all 
 Normans and friends of Normans. Every feat of arms 
 or skilful stratagem inspired some new song or tale ; 
 and the gleemen were never idle, and were never 
 unhonoured. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE HAPPY END 
 
 There chanced to be one very hard winter, and the 
 rivers and streams were frozen over, as well as the 
 bogs and swamps. It was such a winter as one of 
 those in which King Canute went to visit the monks 
 of Ely. Then the nobles of Canute's court said, 
 ' We cannot pass ; the king must not pass on the 
 slippery, unsafe ice, which may break and cause us 
 all to be drowned in the fen-waters.' But Canute, 
 like the pious and stout king that he was, up and said, 
 ' Hold ice or break ice, I will keep the feast of the 
 Purification with the good monks of Ely ! An there 
 be but one bold fenner that will go before over the ice 
 by Soham mere and show the way, I will be the next 
 to follow ! ' Now there chanced to be standing amidst 
 the crowd one Brithmer, a fenner of the Isle of Ely, 
 that was called, from his exceeding fatness, Buckle, or 
 Pudding ; and this heavy man stood forward and said 
 that he would go before the king and show him a way 
 on the ice across Soham mere. Quoth Canute, who, 
 albeit so great a king, was but a small, light man, 
 ' If the ice can bear thy weight, it can well bear mine ! 
 So go on, and I follow ! ' So Brithmer went his way 
 across the bending and cracking ice, and the king 
 followed him at a convenient distance ; and one by 
 one the courtiers followed the king, and after a few 
 
 415 
 
416 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 falls on the ice they all got safe to Ely. And, for the 
 good deed which he had done, King Canute made fat 
 Brithmer, who was but a serf before, a free man, 
 and gave unto him some free lands, which Brithmer's 
 posterity hold and enjoy unto this day by virtue of 
 the grant made by King Canute. But there was not 
 a fenner of Lord Here ward's party, fat or lean, that 
 would show the Norman a way across the ice ; and 
 the Duke was in no case to undertake any such adven- 
 turous journey, and hardly one of his chiefs would 
 have exposed hiinself and his people to such a march, 
 and to the risks of a sudden thaw ; and the Saxons 
 passed the seasons of frosts without any alarm, albeit 
 every part of the fens was passable for divers weeks. 
 
 Duke William was now waxing old and growing 
 exceedingly fat, in sort that he could not bestir him- 
 self as he had been used to do. At the same time his 
 sons, who had grown into man's estate, had become 
 very undutiful, and even rebellious. Robert, his first- 
 born, who was short in his legs, but very lofty in 
 spirit, claimed as his own the duchy of Normandie 
 and the county of Maine, alleging that the dominion 
 of those countries had been promised to him by his 
 father, and that his father ought to rest satisfied 
 with the great kingdom of England. And although 
 William had told Robert that he would not throw off 
 his clothes until he went to bed — meaning thereby to 
 say that he would give up none of his principalities 
 and powers until he went to his grave — that impatient, 
 furious young man showed that he would not wait 
 and be patient. The family of the Conqueror was a 
 brotherhood of Cains. Robert, less favoured by nature 
 than they, thought that his father always gave prefer- 
 ence to his younger brothers, William and Henry : and 
 being in France, in the little town of Aigle, William 
 
THE HAPPY END 417 
 
 and Henry, after playing at dice, as was the fashion 
 with milites, made a great noise and uproar, to the 
 great disturbance of their elder brother; and when 
 Robert remonstrated with them from a courtyard 
 beneath, they called him Shorthose, and emptied a 
 pitcher of water upon his head. Thereupon Robert 
 drew his sword and would have slain both his brothers ; 
 but being prevented in that, he raised the standard of 
 revolt against his own father, and endeavoured to 
 surprise the city and strong castle at Rouen. Here, 
 too, Robert failed of success, but he fled into Brittanie ; 
 and he was now visibly supported, not only by many 
 Breton chiefs and by the great Count of Anjou, but 
 also by Philip the French king, who never could 
 stomach the power and greatness to which the son 
 of the harlot of Falaise had attained. Now, while 
 all this mischief was brewing, Duke William felt that 
 there were many of the barons in Normandie in whom 
 he could put no manner of trust, and he well knew 
 that too many of the great Normans settled in England 
 were unsteady in their allegiance to him. In this 
 state of things it behoved him more than ever to 
 insure tranquillity in England before he should again 
 cross the seas, and to endeavour to secure the good- 
 will of the Saxon people, who were gradually becoming 
 accustomed to his rule, and who had but so recently 
 shown how valorously they could fight for him when 
 he put his trust in them. And therefore had he some- 
 what relaxed the rigour of his government towards the 
 English people, and had made promise to many native 
 nobles that he would govern the country according to 
 the good laws of Edward the Confessor. Now some 
 of these English nobles were closely allied by blood 
 with the Ladie Lucia, and consequently with the 
 Ladie Alftrude ; and was not the Ladie Lucia the 
 2 D 
 
418 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 wife of Duke William's own nephew, Ivo Taille-Bois ? 
 And was not the Ladie Alftrude wife unto Hereward 
 the Lord of Brunn, who held that nephew in duresse, 
 and who had for so many years prevented Ivo from 
 enjoying the wide domains of his spouse ? Perhaps 
 Ivo had not been an altogether unkind husband, or it 
 may be that the two children which she had borne 
 unto him carried a great weight in his favour in the 
 mind and heart of Lucia, who, certes, had long been 
 very anxious for the liberation and return of her 
 French husband. Some good Saxons at the time 
 thought that this was un-Saxonlike and mean and 
 wicked in the fair heiress of Spalding ; but there were 
 many young dames, and not a few Saxon dames that 
 could hardly be called young, who felt much as the 
 Ladie Lucia felt about their Norman husbands. But 
 go and read the story of old Rome and the Sabine 
 women ! Nay, go read the Evangil, which tells us 
 how the wife will give up everything for her husband. 
 And, crede rnihi, these womanly affections and instincts 
 helped more than anything else to make disappear 
 the distinction between the conquering and the con- 
 quered race. 
 
 Now after that many of her kindred and friends 
 had supplicated Duke William to offer to the Lord of 
 Brunn such terms as might procure the release of her 
 husband and the pacification of the fen country, the 
 Ladie Lucia herself found her way to the court, and 
 at the most opportune moment she knelt before the 
 Conqueror with her two fair children. The hard heart 
 of the Norman ruler was touched ; but politic princes 
 are governed by the head and not by the heart, and it 
 was only upon calculation that William determined 
 to set at nought the opinions and the opposition of 
 many of his advisers, and grant inito Hereward the 
 
THE HAPPY END 419 
 
 most liberal terms of composition. In the presence 
 of Lanfranc and other learned priests he caused to be 
 written upon parchment, that he would give and grant 
 friendship and the protection of the good old laws not 
 only unto Hereward, but also unto all his friends, 
 partisans, and followers whatsoever, of whatsoever 
 degree ; that the life, eyes, limbs, and goods of the 
 poorest fenner should be as sacred as those of Lord 
 Hereward himself; that Lord Hereward should have 
 and hold all the titles of honour and all the lands 
 which he had inherited from his ancestors or obtained 
 by his marriage with the Ladie Alftrude ; that he 
 should be allowed to administer the Saxon laws among 
 his people, as well at Ey as at Brunn ; and that, in 
 return for all these and sundry other advantages, 
 nothing would be required from him further than that 
 he should liberate, together with all other his Norman 
 prisoners, Ivo Taille-Bois, viscomte of Spalding, and 
 give the hand of friendship to Ivo, and restore to him 
 the house and all the lands at Spalding, which were 
 his by right of his marriage with the Ladie Lucia, and 
 live in good cousinship with Ivo as became men so 
 nearly connected thi'ough their Avives, living at the 
 same time in peace and friendship with all Normans, 
 and pledging himself by his honour as a knight and 
 by his vow pronounced with his right hand laid upon 
 the relics of the Saxon saints he most esteemed, to 
 be henceforAvard and alway true liegeman to King 
 William and to his lawful successors. 
 
 When a Saxon monk, known for his good English 
 heart, and for the pious life he had led in Waltham 
 Abbey, got into the fen country, and into the presence 
 of the Lord of Brunn with this scroll, the gentle 
 Ladie Alftrude, who had borne many toils and troubles 
 without a murmur, was lying sick of a marsh fever, 
 
420 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 which she had caught in Holland. This afflicting 
 event was calculated to have some influence over her 
 lord's decision; but many other events and circum- 
 stances, too numerous to name, all led to the same 
 conclusion. No hope of the return of King Harold 
 could be maintained any longer ; the good old Saxon 
 monk from Waltham vowed that his body was really 
 buried in Waltham Abbey, that the river Lea, flowing 
 fast by that Abbey gate, ever murmured his requiem, 
 by night as by day, and that he himself, for years 
 past, had said a daily mass for the peace of his soul. 
 All the great Saxon chiefs had submitted long ago ; 
 Earl Waltheof, the last that had made a stir in arms, 
 had been captured and beheaded outside Winchester 
 town, and was now lying (though not without a strong 
 odour of sanctity) in a deep grave at Crowland Abbey ; 
 Edgar Etheling, the last representative of the line of 
 King Alfred, was living contentedly, and growing fat, 
 in a Norman palace at Rouen, with a pound of silver 
 a day for his maintenance ; for he had long since 
 given himself up, and sworn himself liegeman to 
 William. Every rising had been put down in Eng- 
 land, and all conditions of men seemed determined 
 to rise no more, but to live in peace and good fellow- 
 ship with the Normans ; there was nothing but marry- 
 ing and giving in marriage between the two races, 
 and Saxon lords and other men of note were taking 
 unto themselves Norman or French wives ; and the 
 great father of the whole Christian Church, the Pope 
 at Rome, Gregory, the seventh of that name, had 
 given plenary powers to Archbishop Lanfranc to 
 reorganise the Saxon Church, and to excommunicate 
 all such Saxons as submitted not to his primacy and 
 to the government established. William, on the 
 other hand, promised to take vengeance on none of 
 
THEHAPPYEND 421 
 
 Lord Hereward's followers, and to injure no ten-men 
 for that which was past. 
 
 ' Elfric/ said the Lord of Brunn, ' I think we must 
 accept these terms, and cease this roving life among 
 woods and meres. We have done what brave men 
 can do : we have shown the Normans that England 
 was not conquered in one fatal battle. We might yet 
 hold out here, but for the rest of England we can do 
 nothing ; and our being here costs some Englishmen 
 in the vicinage very dearly ! What sayest thou, my 
 ever-trusty sword-bearer ? Wilt follow thy old master 
 to London city, and make peace with Duke William 
 and his Normans, who have never been able to over- 
 come us ? ' 
 
 Quoth Elfric, ' Where my lord goes there go I, be 
 it to London city or to London tower. I think we 
 have shown the Normans that England was not won 
 by the battle of Hastings. An the Duke keep but his 
 faith, we may live freely and happily in the good old 
 house at Brunn, and among our honest fen folk.' 
 
 Of the monks who had fled from Ely with Elfric 
 some were dead, but the gentle and good Father Elsin 
 and the fiery and old Father Kenulph, and several of 
 the lay-brothers were yet alive ; and therefore Here- 
 ward told the Duke's emissary, the good monk from 
 Waltham, that there must be an especial agreement 
 to relieve these monks of Ely from the rules of their 
 order and allow them to abide at Brunn or at Ey. 
 The emissary was further told that, before Lord 
 Hereward would submit, Duke William must swear 
 upon the relics of his saints to observe the paction, 
 to be true to every article of the agreement ; and to 
 give an earnest of his own sincerity and truth, the 
 Lord of Brunn swore in the solemnest manner that 
 he was ready to acce])t the conditions oflercd to him ; 
 
422 thp: camp of refuge 
 
 and that, having once accepted them, nothing but 
 treachery and violence on the other side would ever 
 make him swerve from them so much as the breadth 
 of a hair. 
 
 The monk of Waltham went his way unto London ; 
 and in as short a time as might be he came back again 
 as far as the succursal cell at Spalding, attended by a 
 goodly company of Norman and Saxon nobles, who 
 came to bear witness that Lanfranc and the chancellor 
 of the kingdom had put their signatures to the scroll 
 as well as the king, and that William had sworn in 
 their presence to be faithful to the deed. Now the 
 Lord of Brunn went to Spalding with a goodly retinue 
 of armed men, but not more numerous than the party 
 which had come thither with the monk of Waltham ; 
 and having heard all that the monk and the lords had 
 to tell him, and having carefully jjerused the deed (for 
 Hereward had tasted books, and could read well in 
 Latin), he wrote his name to the deed, and some of 
 the principal men with him wrote their names ; and 
 then he swore upon the relics to be liegeman to King 
 William. And now William the Norman might in 
 truth be called a king, and King of all England. It 
 was in the Kalends of October, in the year of grace 
 one thousand and seventy-six, and ten years after the 
 great assize of God's judgment at Hastnigs, that this 
 thing was done and an end put to the resistance of 
 the Saxons. 
 
 He had sworn upon the relics of saints before now, 
 and had broken his oath; but this time King William 
 was true to the vow he made, for great and manifold 
 were the advantages he reaped from the submission 
 of the Lord of Brunn. It needs not to say that the 
 great Saxon warrior, who had ever been true to his 
 saints and a scrupulous observer of his word, was 
 
THE HAPPY END 423 
 
 more than faithful to every part of his engagement. 
 After he had been to London city to pay homage to 
 the king whicli it was the Avill of Heaven to place over 
 the country, he returned to his good house at Brunn, 
 and hung his sword and battle-axe upon the wall, 
 never to take them down again unless England should 
 be invaded by the Scots or Danes. King William, 
 who went over into France to force his undutiful son 
 Robert to forego his plots and rebellions, and to take 
 vengeance on the French king (in both of which things 
 he in the end succeeded), would with a glad heart have 
 carx-ied Here ward, the cunning captain, the great sol- 
 dier, with him ; and to tempt him into that service 
 he made offer of lofty titles and commands, and of 
 many hides of land in the upland country ; but Here- 
 ward loved not to fight except for his own country and 
 countrymen, and against those who had wronged him 
 and oppressed them; and instead of clutching greedily 
 at the king's offers, as many English lords had done, 
 he preferred keeping his own in his own native parts, 
 and ever remained plain Lord of Brunn. 
 
 Ivo Taille-Bois returned to the manor-house at 
 Spalding with his wife and children ; and albeit his 
 brow Avas sometimes darkened by the recollections of 
 the wedding at Ey, and the defeat and surrender in 
 the marsh, and the hard life he had led as a prisoner 
 in the fens, he lived, on the whole, in very good fellow- 
 ship with his neighbour and cousin of Brunn. Ivo 
 never more harrowed the good Saxon monks of Spald- 
 ing, who were left for a long time to their own peaceful 
 and happy government. As for the traitorous monks of 
 Crowland yVbbey, who had brought back the Normans, 
 they fared after the same manner as the false monks 
 at Ely and the ungrateful monks at Peterborough ; 
 they were condemned by the Saxons, harassed and 
 
424 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 plundei'ed by the Normans they had served, and 
 fustigated by a sharp iracund abbat from France ; 
 and thus they did penance for many years, and until 
 most of them were dead, when their cells were occu- 
 pied by truer men, and the abbey of Crowland began 
 again to be the revered place it had been in former 
 times. 
 
 As Lord Hereward had ever been averse to cruelty, 
 and constant in his endeavours to prevent his people 
 being cruel to the prisoners they took in battle, the 
 Normans had no scores of vengeance against him ; 
 and when they found that they were not to be grati- 
 fied by dividing his broad lands among them, as they 
 had long expected to do, they lived in a neighbourly 
 manner with him, and even sought his friendship. Not 
 one of them but allowed that he had been a great 
 warrior; and when the monks of their nation, who 
 had seen much of the war in England with their own 
 eyes, began to chronicle the war and to relate the 
 high emprises of William the Conqueror, maugre their 
 Norman prejudices, they paid a tribute of praise and 
 admiration to the military skill and the indomitable 
 courage and perseverance of Hereward, the son of 
 Leofric, Lord of Brunn. 
 
 There were troubles in the land after the year of 
 grace one thousand and seventy-six, but they came 
 not near to Brunn. Twenty-four years after the 
 submission of Hereward, when the Conqueror was in 
 his grave, and his son Rufus had been slain by the 
 arrow of a Norman knight, his other son, Henry the 
 Clerk, ascended the throne, and in so doing he passed 
 the good Charter called the Charter of Liberties, where- 
 by he restored the laws of King Edward the Confessor, 
 and engaged to redress all the grievances of the two 
 preceding reigns. And shortly after his accession to 
 
THEHAPPYEND 425 
 
 the throne^ King Henry still further conciliated his 
 Anglo-Saxon subjects by espousing a Saxon wife, the 
 fair Maud, daughter of Malcolm, King of Scots, and 
 of Margaret the good queen, the relation of King 
 Edward the Confessor, and of the right kingly kin of 
 England. Maud had been sent from Scotland at a very 
 early age and committed to the care of her English 
 aunt Christina, the pious Abbess of Wilton. Many 
 great Norman lords, as Alain the Lord of Richmond, 
 and William de Garenne, Earl of Surrey, had asked her 
 in marriage, but she had refused them all ; and even 
 when Henry Beauclerc, a crowned and anointed king, 
 made suit for her hand, and offered to place her by his 
 side on the throne which her ancestors had sat upon 
 for ages, she testified a preference for the quiet religious 
 life she was leading ; and it required the representations 
 and entreaties of many noble Saxon friends to make 
 her forego her purpose of entering into religion. ' O 
 most noble and fair among women,* said the Saxons, 
 ' if thou wilt, thou canst restore the ancient honour of 
 England, and be a pledge of reconciliation and friend- 
 ship ; but if thou art obstinate in thy refusal, the 
 enmity between the two races will endure, and the 
 shedding of human blood know no end ! ' To these 
 representations she yielded ; and those Saxons who 
 had advised her lived to see much good to England 
 proceed from the marriage, which was a great step 
 towards that intermixture of the Saxon aud Norman 
 races which had been begun many years before, and 
 which we have seen proceed so rapidly. The elevation 
 of the fair Maud to the throne filled the hearts of the 
 English with joy, for not only was she their country- 
 woman and a descendant from the royal stock of Alfred 
 the Circat, but she was also at the time of her marriage 
 beautiful in person, charitable unto the poor, and dis- 
 2e 
 
426 THE CAMP OF REFUGE 
 
 tinguished above all the ladies of her time by a love for 
 learning and learned men. Elfric the sword-bearer^ 
 who was yet in the prime vigour of life, brought 
 to mind the dying prediction of Frithric the Abbat 
 of St. Albans, and said joyously to his lord, that 
 'England would be England still, and that the 
 Saxon tongue and laws were things that could not 
 be rooted out ! ' 
 
 ' Elfric,' said Lord Hereward, ' the great stream of 
 our old Saxon blood is fast absorbing the less stream 
 of Norman blood, and so will it continue to do. 
 The children of Normans, being born in England and 
 suckled by Saxon nurses, will cease to be Normans. 
 All men love to keep that which they have gotten ; 
 and as our old Saxon laws are far more free than those 
 of France, and give more security for life and goods, and 
 oppose a stronger barrier to the tyranny of princes, the 
 Normans that now live among us, or their sons that 
 shall succeed them, will, for their own sakes, cling to 
 our old laws, and help the chiefs and the great body of 
 the English people to make the spirit of them to be en- 
 during in the land.' 
 
 Thus talked the Lord of Brunn and his faithful 
 sword-bearer ; and thus they lived to teach their 
 children's children. 
 
 Hereward continued to live comfortably and peace- 
 ably with his neighbours and with all men, and he died 
 in peace after he had lived many more years. Both he 
 and the Ladie Alftrude reached a patriarchal age, and 
 they left a patriarchal stock behind them. They were 
 buried with all honour in Crowland Abbey, which, by 
 this time, had become a holier and a better governed 
 house than ever it had been before. A learned monk 
 of Crowland wrote good verses in Latin upon the tomb- 
 stone of the Lord of Brunn ; but we find in our own 
 
THE HAPPY END 427 
 
 home tongue lines which might have been a still better 
 epitaph : — 
 
 Him loved yoimg, him loved old, 
 Earl and baron, dreng and kayn, 
 Knight, hondeman, and swain, 
 AVidows, maidens, priests, and clerks. 
 And all for his good werkes. 
 He loved God with all his might. 
 And holy kirk and soothe and right. 
 
 And that there might be a lasting record of his prowess 
 in battle and skill in war, his good and learned mass- 
 priest, Alefricus Diaconus, had written before he died, 
 and in the same old English tongue, a goodly book of 
 the deeds of Hereward, the great soldier ; and albeit 
 this goodly book, by some evil chance, hath disappeared, 
 Hugo Candidus and Robert of SwafFham, two right 
 learned monks of the abbey of Peterborough, have put 
 the substance of it, and such portions as could be found, 
 into their treatise intituled, De Gestis Herewardi 
 Inclyti Militis. 
 
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