The Camp of Refuge: A Tale of the Conquest of the Isle of Ely

by Charles MacFarlane

  CHAPTER II.

  THE SUCCURSAL CELL.

  The Abbat of Crowland's letter, read aloud and slowly by the cheerfulfire, had no note of gladness in it. It began "Woe to the Church! woeto the servants of God! woe to all of the Saxon race!" and it endedwith, "Woe! woe! woe!" It related how all the prelates of English birthwere being expelled by foreign priests, some from France and some fromItaly; how nearly every Saxon abbat had been deprived, and nearly everyreligious house seized by men-at-arms and given over to strangeshavelings from Normandie, from Anjou, from Picardie, from Maine, fromGasconie, and numberless other parts,[27] and how these alien monks,who could not speak the tongue which Englishmen spoke, were occupyingevery pulpit and confessional, and consigning the people to perditionbecause they spoke no French, and preferred their old masters andteachers to their new ones, put over them by violence and the sword!Jealousies and factions continued to rage among the Saxon lords andamong those that claimed kindred with the national dynasties; sloth andgluttony, and the dullness of the brain they produce, rendered of noavail the might of the Saxon arm, and the courage of the Saxon heart.Hence a _dies irae_, a day of God's wrath. Aldred,[28] the archbishop ofYork, had died of very grief and anguish of mind: Stigand,[29] theEnglish and the true archbishop of Canterbury, after wandering in theDanelagh and in Scotland, and flying for his life from many places, hadgone 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 hadcrossed the seas in many ships to aid him; and he had fled once more ina denuded state to the court of Malcolm Caenmore, the Scottish king. Inall the north of England there had been a dismal slaughter: from Yorkto Durham not an inhabited village remained--fire and the sword hadmade a wilderness there--and from Durham north to Hexham, from the Wearto the Tyne, the remorseless conqueror, _Herodes, Herode ferocior_, acrueller Herod than the Herod of old, had laid waste the land andslaughtered the people. York Minster had been destroyed by fire, andevery church, chapel, and religious house had been either destroyed orplundered by the Normans. Everywhere the Saxon patriots, after briefglimpses of success, had met with defeat and extermination, save andexcept only in the Camp of Refuge and the Isle of Ely; and there toomisfortune had happened. Edwin and Morcar,[30] the sons of Alfgar,brothers-in-law to King Harold, and the best and the bravest of theSaxon nobles, had quitted the Camp of Refuge, that last asylum ofAnglo-Saxon independence, and had both perished. All men of name andfame were perishing. The Saxon commonalty were stupified with amazementand terror,--_Pavefactus est Populus_.[31] The Normans were making wareven upon the dead or upon the tombs of those who had done honour totheir country as patriots, warriors, spiritual teachers and saints.Frithric,[32] the right-hearted Abbat of St. Albans, had been drivenfrom his abbey with all his brethren; and Paul, a young man fromNormandie and a reputed son of the intrusive Archbishop Lanfranc, hadbeen thrust in his place. And this Paul, as his first act in office,had demolished the tombs of all his predecessors, whom he called rudeand idiotic men, because they were of the English race! And next, thisPaul had sent over into Normandie for all his poor relations andfriends--men ignorant of letters and of depraved morals--and he wasdividing among this foul rapacious crew the woods and the farms, allthe 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 brokenhearted, and could oppose the Normans only withprayers--with prayers to which, on account of the sins of the nation,the blessed Virgin and the saints were deaf. The brethren in thesuccursal cell at Spalding must look to themselves, for he, the abbat,could give them no succour; and he knew of a certainty that IvoTaille-Bois had promised the cell to some of his kith and kin inforeign parts.

  The reading of this sad letter was interrupted by many ejaculations andexpressions of anger and horror, grief and astonishment; and when itwas over, the spirits of the community were so depressed that thesuperior thought himself absolutely compelled to call upon the cellarerand bid him fill the stoups again, to the end that there might beanother short _Biberes_. When the monks had drunk in silence, and hadcrossed themselves after the draught, they began to ask each other whatwas to be done? for they no longer doubted that Elfric had seen theforty men-at-arms in the neighbourhood, or that Ivo Taille-Bois wouldbe thundering at their gate in the morning. Some proposed sending amessenger into Spalding town, which was scarcely more than two goodbow-shots distant from the cell, lighting the beacon on the tower, andsounding all the blast-horns on the house-top to summon the wholeneighbourhood to their aid; but the superior bade them reflect thatthis would attract the notice of Ivo Taille-Bois, and be considered asan hostile defiance; that the neighbourhood was very thinly peopled byinexpert and timid serfs, and that most of the good men of Spaldingtown who possessed arms and the art of wielding them had already takentheir departure for the Camp of Refuge. At last the superior said, "Wecannot attempt a resistance, for by means of a few lighted arrows thechildren of Satan would set fire to our upper works, and so burn ourhouse over our heads. We must submit to the will of Heaven, andendeavour to turn aside the wrath of our arch-persecutor. Lucia,[33]the wife of Ivo Taille-Bois, was a high-born Saxon maiden when heseized upon her (after slaying her friends), and made her his wife inorder to have the show of a title to the estates. As a maiden Lucia wasever good and Saxon-hearted, especially devout to our patron saint,[34]and a passing good friend and benefactress to this our humble cell. Shewas fair among the daughters of men, fairest in a land where thestrangers themselves vouchsafe to say that beauty and comelinessabound;[35] she may have gotten some sway over the fierce mind of herhusband, and at her supplications Ivo may be made to forego his wickedpurposes. Let us send a missive to the fair Lucia."

  Here Brother Cedric reminded Father Adhelm that a letter would be oflittle use, inasmuch as the fair Lucia could not read, and had nobodyabout her in the manor-house that could help her in this particular."Well then," said the superior, "let us send that trusty and nimblemessenger Elfric to the manor-house, and let him do his best to getaccess to the lady and acquaint her with our woes and fears. Whatsayest thou, good Elfric?"

  Albeit the novice thought that he had been but badly rewarded for hislast service, he crossed his arms on his breast, bowed his head, andsaid, "Obedience is my duty. I will adventure to the manor-house, Iwill 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 thesewalls were all of stone and brick, I would rather stay and fight behindthem: for I trow that the fair Lucia hath no more power over IvoTaille-Bois than the lamb hath over the wolf, or the sparrow over thesparrow-hawk."

  "But," said the superior, "unless Heaven vouchsafe a miracle, we haveno other hope or chance than this. Good Elfric, go to thy cell andrefresh thyself with sleep, for thou hast been a wayfarer through longand miry roads, and needest rest. We too are weary men, for we haveread a very long letter and deliberated long on weighty tryingbusiness, and the hour is growing very late. Let us then all to bed,and at earliest morning dawn, after complines, thou wilt gird up thyloins and take thy staff in thine hand, and I will tell thee how tobespeak the Lady Lucia, an thou canst get to her presence. I will takecounsel of my pillow, and call upon the saints to inspire me with amoving message that I shall send."

  Elfric humbly saluted the superior and all his elders by name, wishedthem a holy night, and withdrew from the refectory and hall to seek therest which he really needed: but before entering his cell he went tothe house-top to look out at the broad moon, and the wood, and theriver, and the open country, intersected by deep cuts and ditches,which lay in front of the succursal cell. The night had become frosty,and the moon and the stars were shining their brightest in atransparent atmosphere. As the novice looked up the course of theWelland he thought he distinguished something afar off floating on thestream. He looked again, and felt certain that a large boat wasdescending the river towards the house. He remained si
lent and almostbreathless until the vessel came so near that he was enabled to seethat the boat was filled with men-at-arms, all clad in mail, who heldtheir lances in their hands, and whose shields were fastened to thesides of the boat, glittering in the moonlight. "I count forty and onelances and forty and one shields," said the youth to himself, "butthese good friars will tell me that I have seen bulrushes andwillow-leaves." He closed his eyes for a time and then rubbed them andlooked out again. There was the boat, and there were the lances and theshields and the men-at-arms, only nearer and more distinct, for thecurrent of the river was rapid, and some noiseless oars or paddles wereat work to increase the speed without giving the alarm. "I see what isin the wind," thought Elfric; "the Normans would surprise us and expelus by night, without rousing the good people of Spalding town." He randown the spiral staircase; but, short as was the time that he had beenon the housetop, every light had been extinguished in the hall duringthe interval, every cell-door had been closed; and a chorus of loudsnores that echoed along the corridor told him that, maugre theirtroubles and alarms, all the monks, novices, and lay-brothers werealready fast asleep. "I will do what I can do," said the youth, "for ifI wake the superior he will do nothing. If the men of Spalding towncannot rescue us, they shall at least be witnesses to the wrongs putupon us. Nay, Gurth the smith, and Wybert the wheelwright, and Nat theweaver, and Leolf the woodsman, be brave-hearted knaves, and have thetrick of archery. From the yon side of those ditches and trenches,which these heavy-armed Normans cannot pass, perchance a hole or twomay be driven into their chain jerkins!"

  Taking the largest horn in the house he again ascended to the roof, andturning towards the little town he blew with all his strength andskill, and kept blowing until he was answered by three or four horns inthe town. By this time the boat was almost under the walls of themonastery, and an arrow from it came whistling close over the youth'shead. "There are neither battlements nor parapets here," said he, "andit is now time to rouse the brethren." In a moment he was in thecorridor rapping at the doors of the several cells, wherein the monksslept on, not hearing the blowing of the horns; but before half theinmates were roused from their deep slumber the Normans had landed fromthe boat, and had come round to the front of the house shouting,"Taille-Bois! Taille-Bois! Notre Dame to our aid! and Taille-Bois tohis own! Get up, ye Saxon churls that be ever sleeping or eating, andmake way for better men!"

  The superior forgot his gout and ran to the hall. They all ran to thehall, friars, novices, lay-brothers, and hinds,[36] and lights werebrought in and hurried deliberations commenced, in which every one tookpart. Although there was overmuch sloth, there was little cowardiceamong these recluses. If there had been any chance of making good thedefence of the house, well I ween the major part of them would havevoted for resistance; but chance there was none, and therefore, withthe exception of Elfric, whose courage, at this time of his life,bordered on rashness, they all finally agreed with the superior thatthe wisest things to do would be to bid Hubert the portarius throw openthe gate and lower the bridge; to assemble the whole community in thechapel, light up all tapers on the high altar and shrines, and chantthe _Libera Nos Domine_--Good Lord deliver us!

  "It is not psalmody that will save us from expulsion," thought Elfric.

  Now Hubert the porter was too old and too much disturbed in spirit todo all that he had to do without help; and Father Cedric bade thesturdy 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 midnightrobbers!" And instead of following Hubert down to the gate, he wentagain (_sine Abbatis licentia_, without license or knowledge of hissuperior) to the house-top, to see whether any of the folk of Spaldingtown had ventured to come nigh. As he got to the corner of the rooffrom 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 sawabout a score of Spalding-men in their sheepskin jackets and with bowsand knives in their hands, menacing and reviling the mail-cladmen-at-arms. The Saxons soon got themselves well covered from the foeby a broad deep ditch, and by a bank; but some of the Normans hadbrought their bows with them, and a shaft let fly at the right momentwhen one of the Saxons was exposing his head and shoulders above thebank, took effect, and was instantly followed by a wild scream oryell--"Wybert is down! Wybert is slain!"

  "Then this to avenge him, for Wybert was a good man and true;" andElfric, who had brought a bow with him from the corridor, drew thestring to his ear and let fly an arrow which killed the Norman that hadkilled 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 arrowscame whistling among them from behind the bank and made them skip.

  Ivo Taille-Bois lifted up his voice and shouted, "Saxon churls, ye meanto befriend your faineant[37] monks; but if ye draw another bow I willset fire to the cell and grill them all!"

  This was a terrible threat, and the poor men of Spalding knew too wellthat Ivo could easily do that which he threatened. The noise hadreached the chapel, where the superior was robing himself, and FatherCedric came to the house-top to conjure the Saxons to retire and leavethe servants of the saints to the protection of the saints. At the topof the spiral staircase he found the novice with the bow in his hand;and he said unto him, "What dost thou here, _et sine licentia_"?[38]

  "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 helpHubert unbar the gate and drop the bridge."

  "That will I never, though I break my monastic vow of obedience," saidthe youth. "But hark! the chain rattles!--the bridge is down--the hingecreaks--by heaven! the gate is open--Ivo Taille-Bois and his devils arein the house! Then is this no place for me!" And before the monk couldcheck him, or say another word to him, the novice rushed to theopposite side and leaped from the roof into the deep moat. Forgettinghis mission--which was to conjure the Saxons in the name of FatherAdhelm the superior of the house not to try the arms of the flesh,--oldCedric 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 fastfor the Welland, in the apparent intention of getting into the fensbeyond the river, where Norman pursuit after him could be of no avail.The monk then went towards the front of the building and addressed theSaxons who still lingered behind the ditch and the bank, bemoaning thefate of Wybert, and not knowing what to do. Raising his voice so thatthey might hear him, Cedric beseeched them to go back to their homes inthe town; and he was talking words of peace unto them when he wasstruck from behind by a heavy Norman sword which cleft his cowl and hisskull in twain: and he fell over the edge of the wall into the moat.Some of the men-at-arms had seen Elfric bending his bow on thehouse-top, and the Norman who had been slain had pointed, while dying,in that direction. After gaining access they had slain old Hubert andthe lay-brother who had assisted him in lowering the drawbridge; andthen, while the rest rushed towards the chapel, two of the men-at-armsfound their way to the roof, and there seeing Cedric they despatchedhim as the fatal archer and as the daring monk who had blown the hornto call out the men of Spalding. As Father Cedric fell into the moat,and the Normans were seen in possession of the cell, the men ofSpalding withdrew, and carried with them the body of Wybert. But ifthey withdrew to their homes, it was but for a brief season and inorder to carry off their moveable goods and their families; for theyall 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 Campof Refuge, and others took their way towards the wild and lonesomeshores of the Wash.

  But how fared the brotherhood in the chapel below? As Ivo Taille-Boisat the head of his men-at-arms burst into the holy place--made holy bythe relics of more than one Saxon saint, and by the tomb andimperishable body of a Saxon who had died a saint and martyr at thehand of the Danish Pagans in the old tim
e, before the name of Normanswas ever heard of--the superior and friars, dressed in their stoles, asif for high mass, and the novices and the lay-brothers, were allchanting the _Libera Nos_; and they seemed not to be intimidated ordisturbed by the flashing of swords and lances, or by the sinfulimprecations of the invaders; for still they stood where they were, inthe midst of tapers and flambards, as motionless as the stone effigiesof the saints in the niches of the chapel; and their eyes moved notfrom the books of prayer, and their hands trembled not, and still theychanted in the glorious strain of the Gregorian chant[39] (which Timehad not mended), _Libera Nos Domine!_ "Good Lord deliver us!" and whenthey had finished the supplication, they struck up in a more cheerfulnote, _Deus Noster Refugium_, God is our Refuge.

  Fierce and unrighteous man as he was, Ivo Taille-Bois stood for aseason on the threshold of the chapel with his mailed elbow leaning onthe font that held the holy water; and, as the monks chanted, some ofhis men-at-arms crossed themselves and looked as if they were consciousof doing unholy things which ought not to be done. But when thesuperior glanced at him a look of defiance, and the choir began to sing_Quid Gloriaris?_ "Why boasteth thou thyself, thou tyrant, that thoucanst do mischief?" Ivo bit his lips, raised up his voice--raised ithigher than the voices of the chanting monks, and said, "Sir Priest, orprior, come forth and account to the servant of thy lawful King Williamof Normandie for thy unlawful doings, for thy gluttonies, backslidings,and rebellions, for thy uncleanliness of life and thy disloyalty ofheart!" But Father Adhelm moved not, and still the monks sang on: andthey came to the versets--"Thou hast loved to speak all words that maydo hurt; oh! thou false tongue--therefore shall God destroy thee forever: He shall take thee and pluck thee out of thy dwelling."

  "False monk, I will first pluck thee out of thine," cried Ivo, who knewenough church Latin to know what the Latin meant that the monks werechanting; and he strode across the chapel towards the superior, andsome of his men-at-arms strode hastily after him, making the stonefloor of the chapel ring with the heavy tread of their iron-boundshoon; 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 oneanother's eyes or down to the ground, as if they liked not the workthat Ivo had in hand. The monks, the novices, the lay-brothers, allgathered closely round their superior and linked their arms together soas to prevent Ivo from reaching him; and the superior, taking hiscrucifix of gold from his girdle, and raising it high above his headand above the heads of those who girded him in, and addressing theNorman chief as an evil spirit, or as Sathanas the father of all evilspirits, he bade him avaunt! Ivo had drawn his sword, but at sight ofthe cross he hesitated to strike, and even retired a few steps inarrear. The monks renewed their chant; nor stopped, nor wereinterrupted by any of the Normans until they had finished this Psalm.But when it was done Ivo Taille-Bois roared out, "Friars, this ispsalmody enough! Men-at-arms, your trumpets! Sound the charge." Andthree Normans put each a trumpet to his lips and sounded the charge;which brought all the men-at-arms careering against the monks and thenovices and the lay-brothers; so that the living fence was broken andsome of the brethren were knocked down and trampled under foot, and apath was opened for Ivo, who first took the golden crucifix from theuplifted hand of Father Adhelm and put it round his own neck, and thentook the good father by the throat and bade him come forth from thechapel into the hall, where worldly business might be done withoutoffering insult or violence to the high altar.

  "I will first pour out the curses of the church on thy sacrilegioushead," said the superior, throwing off the Norman count, and with somuch strength that Ivo reeled and would have fallen to the ground amongthe prostrate monks, if he had not first fallen against some of hismen-at-arms. Father Adhelm broke away from another Norman who clutchedhim, but in so doing he left nearly all his upper garment in thesoldier's hand, and he was rent and ragged and without his crucifixwhen he reached the steps of the altar and began his malediction.

  "Stop the shaveling's tongue, but shed no blood here," cried Ivo;"seize him, seize them all, and bring them into the refectory!"--and sosaying the chief rushed out of the chapel into the hall. It was anunequal match--thirty-nine men-at-arms against a few monks and boys andwaiting men; yet before the superior could be dragged from the highaltar, and conveyed with all his community into the hall, several ofthe Normans were made to measure their length on the chapel floor (theycould not wrestle like our true Saxons), and some of them were sosqueezed within their mail sleeves and gorgets[40] by the grip of Saxonhands, that they bore away the marks and smarts that lasted them many aday. It was for this that one of them cut the weazen[41] of the sturdyold cook as soon as he got him outside the chapel door, and thatanother of them cut off the ears of the equally stout cellarer.

  At last they were all conveyed, bound with their cords or girdles, intothe hall. The Taille-Bois, with his naked sword in his hand, and with aman-at-arms on either side of him, sat at the top of the hall in thesuperior's chair of state; and the superior and the rest of thebrotherhood were brought before him like criminals.

  "Brother to the devil," said Ivo, "what was meant by thy collecting ofarmed men--rebel and traitor serfs that shall rue the deed!--thysounding of horns on the house-top; thy fighting monks that have killedone of my best men-at-arms; thy long delay in opening thy doors tothose who knocked at them in the name of King William; thy outrages inthe chapel, and all thy other iniquities which I have so oft-timespardoned at the prayer of the Lady Lucia? Speak, friar, and tell me whyI should not hang thee over thine own gateway as a terror and anexample to all the other Saxon monks in this country, who are all intheir hearts enemies and traitors to the good king that God and victoryhave put over this land!"

  Had it not been that Father Adhelm was out of breath, from hiswrestling in the Chapel, I wist he never would have allowed IvoTaille-Bois to speak so long without interruption. But by the time theNorman paused, the superior had partly recovered his breath; and he didnot keep the Norman waiting for his answer.

  "Son of the fire everlasting," cried Adhelm, "it is for me to ask whatmeanest thou by thy transgressions, past and present? Why hast thoufrom thy first coming among us never ceased from troubling me and theseother servants of the saints, the brothers of this poor cell? Why hastthou seized upon and emptied our granaries and our cellars (more thepossessions of the saints and of the poor than our possessions)? Whyhast thou carried off the best of our cattle? Why hast thou and thypeople lamed our horses and our oxen, and killed our sheep and poultry?Why hast thou caused to be assailed on the roads, and beaten withstaves and swords, the lay-brothers and servants of this house? Whydidst thou come at the dead of night like a chief of robbers with thymen-at-arms and cut-throats to break in upon us and to wound and slaythe servants of the Lord, who have gotten thy king's peace, and lettersof protection from the Archbishop Lanfranc?[42] Oh, Ivo Taille-Bois!tell me why thou shouldst not be overtaken by the vengeance of man'slaw in this world, and by eternal perdition in the next?"

  Ivo was not naturally a man of many words; and thinking it best to cutthe discussion short, he grinned a grim grin, and said in a calm andbusiness-like tone of voice, "Saxon! we did not conquer thy country toleave Saxons possessed of its best fruits. This house and these widedomains are much too good for thee and thine: I want them, and longhave wanted them, to bestow upon others. Wot ye not that I have beyondthe sea one brother and three cousins that have shaved their crowns andtaken to thy calling--that in Normandie, Anjou, and Maine there aremany of my kindred and friends who wear hoods and look to me forprovision and establishment in this land of ignorance and heresy, wherenone of your home-dwelling Saxon monks know how to make the tonsure[43]in the right shape?"

  "Woe to the land, and woe to the good Christian people of it!" said thesuperior and several of his monks; "it is then to be with us as withthe brotherhood of the great and holy abbey of St. Albans! We are to bedriven forth empty-handed and brokenhearted, and our places are to besupplied by rapacious foreigners who speak not
and understand not thetongue of the English people! Ah woe! was it for this that Saxon saintsand martyrs died and bequeathed their bones to our keeping and theirmiracles to our superintendence; that Saxon kings and queens descendedfrom 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 theworship of heaven, and ample alms, and still more ample employment tothe poor? Was it for this the great and good men of our race, ourthanes and our earls, bequeathed lands and money to us? Was it tofatten herds of alien monks, who follow in the bloody track of conquestand devastation, and come among us with swords and staves, and clad inmail even like your men-at-arms, that we and our predecessors in thiscell have laboured without intermission to drain these bogs and fens,to make roads for the foot of man through this miry wilderness, to cutbroad channels to carry off the waste waters to the great deep, to turnquagmires into bounteous corn fields, and meres into greenpastures?"[44]

  While the Saxon monks thus delivered themselves, Ivo and his Normans(or such of them as could understand what was said) ofttimesinterrupted them, and spoke in this wise--"King William hath thesanction of his holiness the Pope for all that he hath done or doth.Lanfranc loveth not Saxon priests and monks, and Saxon priests andmonks love not the king nor any of the Normans, but are ever privatelypreaching and prating about Harold and Edgar Etheling, and putting evildesigns into the heads of the people. The Saxon saints are no saints:who ever heard their names beyond sea? Their half-pagan kings andnobles have heaped wealth here and elsewhere that generous Normanknights and better bred Norman monks[45] might have the enjoyment ofit. The nest is too good for these foul birds: we have better birds toput 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 thebridge. If the well-directed arrow of Elfric had slain one man-at-armsand the folk of Spalding town had slightly wounded two or three others,the Normans had killed Father Cedric, Hubert the porter, and the manthat assisted him, had killed the cook, and cut off the ears of thecellarer. The conquerors therefore sought to shed no more blood, andthe Taille-Bois was satisfied when he saw the brotherhood dispossessedand turned out upon the wide world with nothing they could call theirown, except the sandals on their feet, and the torn clothes on theirbacks, and two or three church books. When a little beyond the moatthey all shook the dust from their feet against the sons of theeverlasting fire; and the superior, leisurely and in a low tone ofvoice, finished the malediction which he had begun in the chapelagainst Ivo Taille-Bois. This being over, Father Adhelm counted hislittle 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," saidone of the lay-brothers who had learned his fate when the rest of thecommunity 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 theWelland, just as the Normans were admitted," said the lay-brother whohad before spoken, "and it must have been he that sent the arrowthrough the brain of the man-at-arms that lies there on the greensward."

  "He will send his arrows through the brains of many more of them," saidthe superior. "My children, I feel the spirit of prophecy speakingwithin me, and I tell ye all that Elfric, our whilome novice, will liveto do or cause to be done more mischief to the oppressors of hiscountry than all the chiefs that have taken up arms against them. Hehath 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 Ely, theplace of his birth, in the midst of the many waters, and throw himselfinto the Camp of Refuge, where the Saxon motto is 'Death orIndependence.'"

  Before moving to the near bank of the Welland, or to the spot to whichthe Normans had sent down the ferry-boat, Father Adhelm again countedhis little flock, and said, "Cedric lies dead in the moat, Hubert andBracho lie cold under the archway, Elfric the novice is fled to be athorn in the sides of these Normans, but, oh tell me! where is goodOswald the cook?"

  "After they had dragged your reverence into the hall, a man-at-arms cuthis throat, even as Oswald used to cut the throats of swine; and helies dead by the chapel-door."

  "_Misericordia!_ (O mercy on us!) Go where we will, we shall never findso good a cook again!"

  Although it seemed but doubtful where or when they should find materialfor another meal the afflicted community repeated the superior's alacksand misericordias! mourning the loss of old Oswald as a man and as aSaxon, but still more as the best of cooks.[46]