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

by Charles MacFarlane

  CHAPTER XXV.

  THE NORMANS IN THE CAMP.

  The Camp of Refuge, wherein the Saxons had so long withstood theviolent threats of the Normans, was not in itself a very noticeableplace. But for the army and the last hopes of England collectedtherein, the wayfarer might have passed it without any especialobservation, there being several such places in the Fen country, partlysurrounded by embankments of earth, and wholly girded in, and doubly ortrebly girded by rivers, ditches, pools, and meres. The embankments hadbeen first made, in very remote ages, by those who first attempted todrain parts of the fen country; but tradition said that these peacefulworks had been made to serve the purposes of defensive war, in thosedays when the Iceni stood against their Roman invaders, when theBritons stood against the first Saxons, and when the Saxons opposed themarauding Danes. The embankments 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 thebusiness of grazing, fishing, and fowling, knew best how to defend andhow to stock such places. In the upland countries men took shelter onthe high hills; but here, when an enemy approached, men threwthemselves within these flats and enclosures in the midst of thewaters, taking with them their herds and flocks, and their hooks andnets for fishing, and their snares for fowling. At the first sound ofthis Norman invasion, and before any Saxon lord or knight fled forrefuge into the Isle of Ely, the people of the country drove theirfattening beeves into the enclosed but wide space which afterwards cameto be called the Camp, but which for a long season bore rather theappearance of a grazing-field than that of a place of arms; and evenwhen the Saxon lords and knights came and gathered together their armedfollowers on that green grassy spot, the space was so wide that thecattle were left to remain where they were, and the many cowherds andshepherds were mixed with the Saxon soldiery, each by times doing theduty of the other; and now, when well-nigh everything else was consumedand gone, there remained within the broad limits of the Camp greatdroves of the finest and fattest cattle.

  There was no moon, and the night was of the darkest, when Elfricapproached the Camp, flying along the ground like a lapwing. As watcheswere set, and as the men were vigilant as became the soldiers of theLord of Brunn, he was challenged sundry times before he reached hislord's tent. Hereward was asleep, but at the voice and tidings of hissword-bearer he was presently up and armed, and ready to go the roundof the Camp.

  "Elfric," said Hereward, "if the traitorous monks of Ely shall havecalled in their own people, who formed our outer guard, and have giventhe Normans the clue to the watery labyrinth which has been ourstrength and safety so long, we may still hold out against more thanone assault behind the embankments of this Camp, provided only ourpeople do not get panic-stricken by the suddenness of the attack, andin the darkness of this night. Would that it were morning! But comewhat may, there is one comfort: we shall have our harness on our backsbefore 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 totent, or from hut to hut, to rouse the sleeping chiefs to tell themthat the monks of Ely were traitors to the good cause, and that theNormans were coming; and when this was done, Hereward, with anunperturbed spirit, and with all that knowledge of war which he hadacquired beyond sea, and from the knowing Salernitan, and from all thatquickness which nature had given him, laid down his plan for defendingthe interior of the Camp, and appointed every chief to the post heshould hold, speaking cheerfully to them all, and telling them thatfive years had passed since the battle of Hastings, and that Englandwas not conquered yet; and that if the Normans should be foiled in thisattack, their loss would be terrible, their retreat across the fensalmost impracticable.

  By the time all this was said and done it was more than two hours afterthe midnight hour, and it had scarcely been done ere the war-cry of theNormans was heard close under the south-western face of the Camp. Byusing the name of the Abbat Thurstan, the false prior had made thepeople of the abbey abandon the fords in that direction; and by thesame false prior's procurement, a traitorous fenner had guided theNormans through the labyrinth. But there was more fatal mischief yet toproceed from the same dark cauldron and source of evil. Some othertraitor, serving among the retainers of the abbey that had been leftquartered in the Camp, because they could not be withdrawn without LordHereward's order set up the cry that the Saxons were all betrayed, andthat the Normans had gotten into the Camp; and thereupon the poorbewildered wights, who knew but too well that the Norman war-cry couldbe heard where it was heard only through treachery, fell into disorderand dismay, and abandoning the post which they had been appointed tohold, and disregarding the voice of their commander, they fled acrossthe Camp, shouting, "Treason! treason! Fly, Saxons, fly!"

  The Normans began to enter the Camp in overpowering numbers; andalthough the first glimmerings of day began to be seen from the east,it was still so dark that it was hard to distinguish between friend andfoe. But Hereward soon found himself at the spot where the danger wasgreatest; and the foe, who had not yet recovered from the dread of hisname, halted at the shouts of "Hereward for England!" and were soondriven out of the Camp, with a great slaughter. Whilst this was doingon the south-western side, another host of Normans, under the sametraitorous guidance, got round towards the north face of the Camp, andafter some hard fighting, got over the embankment, and into the Camp.Leaving a brave old Saxon earl and his people to keep the ground he hadrecovered, Hereward rushed with Elfric and his own choice band to thenorthern side; and although the distance was considerable, hisbattle-axe was ringing among the Normans there before they had foundtime to form themselves in good fighting order. But Odo, the fightingbishop, was among these Normans; and thus knights and men-at-armsfought most valiantly, and held the ground they had gained for a longtime. Nevertheless, just as the rising sun was shining on the tower ofEly Abbey, Odo and his host, or such of his host as survived, retreatedthe way they had come; but while they were in the act of retreating,Duke William led in person an assault on another part of the Camp; andon the south-west side, the brave old Saxon earl being slain, his mengave way, and the Normans again rushed in on that side. Also, and atnearly the same instant of time, Norman spears were discerned cominground upon the Camp from other quarters. As he paused to deliberatewhither he should first direct his steps, and as he shook the bloodfrom the blade and shaft of his battle-axe--a ponderous weapon which noother man then in England could wield--the Lord of Brunn, still lookingserenely, bespoke his sword-bearer, "May God defend the house of Elyand the Lord Abbat; but the knavish monks have done the work oftreachery very completely! They must have made known unto the Normansall the perilous passages of the fens. We are beset all about! But wemust even drive the Normans back again. Numerous are they, yet theirknights love not to fight on foot, and they can have brought few horsesor none across the swamps. But Elfric, my man, thou art bleeding! Artmuch hurt?"

  Now, although Elfric had got an ugly cut upon his brow, he smiled, andsaid, "'Tis nothing, good my Lord: 'tis only a scratch from the sharpend of Bishop Odo's pastoral crook. If he had not been so timeouslysuccoured, I would have cleft his shaven crown in spite of his steelcap, or have made him a prisoner!"

  When this was said, and when the keen eye of Hereward had made surveyof the whole field, he and his sword-bearer, and all his matchlessband, 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 seenhow the Lord of Brunn and his Saxons true bore them in the brunt ofwar. Thunder the battle-axes; gride the heavy swords! Broad shields areshivered, and the Norman left arms that bore them are lopped off likehazel twigs; helms are broken, and corslets reft in twain; and stillthis true Saxon band shouted, "Holy rood! holy rood! Out! out! Get yeout, Normans! Hereward for England! Saxons, remember Hast
ings!" Stoutyoung Raoul of Caen, the page that carried the arms and the shield(_arma ac scuta_) of the Duke, was slain by Hereward's sword-bearer;and where Raoul met his untimely death, other Normans perished or bled.Duke William shouted, "Notre Dame! Notre Dame! Dieu aide! Dieu aide!"but was forced to give ground, and the Duke retreated beyond theearth-raised mound or great embankment which girded the Camp on thatside.

  "The patrimony of Saint Etheldreda is not easy to conquer! We havebeaten 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 ofHosts, some of them be throwing down their weapons, and crying forquarter! Wipe the blood from out thine eyes, Elfric; keep close to myside, and come on, brave men all!"

  And away from the earth-raised mound, over which he had driven theNorman Duke, went the Lord of Brunn with his warrior band; and then wasthe fight renewed in the midst of the Camp, where some of thedisheartened 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 nomercy! There is no grace for ye but in your own swords!" And then theSaxons took heart again, and rallying round Hereward, they soon chargedthe foe, and fought them hand to hand. In their turn the Normans beganto yield, and to cry for quarter; but this band in the centre wassupported by another and another; and soon Duke William, and thatungodly bishop, his brother, came back into the interior of the Camp,with many knights and men-at-arms that had not yet tasted the sharpnessof the Saxon steel, and that were all fresh for the combat. Louder andlouder waxed the war-cry on either side, and terrible and strangebecame the scene within the wide Camp; for the cattle, scared by theloud noise, and by the clash and the glittering of arms, were runningwildly about the Camp in the midst of the combatants; and the fiercebulls of the fens, lashing themselves into furor, and turning up thesoil with their horns, came careering down, and breaking through theserried lines of the invaders; and many a Norman was made to feel thathis mail jacket was but a poor defence against the sharp horns of thebull that pastured on the patrimony of Saint Etheldreda. Also rosethere to heaven a dreadful rugitus, or roaring, mixed with the loudbewailing and the shrieks of timid herdsmen, and of women and children;and the wives and children of the Saxons ran about the Camp, seekingfor a place of safety, and finding none. The Saxon warriors were nowfalling fast, but the Normans fell also; and victory was stilldoubtful, when loud shouts were heard, and another forest of lances wasseen coming down on the Camp from the south; and upon this, one entirebody of the Saxon host threw down their arms, and surrenderedthemselves as prisoners.

  Hereward, who was leaning upon his battle-axe, and wiping the sweatfrom his brow, said to his sword-bearer, "This is a sad sight!"

  "A sad sight and a shameful," quoth Elfric; "but there are Saxons stillthat 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 ofSaxon lords, old dwellers in the Camp of Refuge, and men that hadfought at Hastings, and in many a battle since, gathered round LordHereward, and threw their swords and battle-axes and dinted shieldsupon the ground, and told him that the fight was lost, and that (_decommuni concilio magnatum_), with the common advice and consent of themagnates, they had all determined to surrender upon quarter, and takethe King's peace.

  Quoth the Lord of Brunn, "Ye will not do the thing ye name! or, an yedo it, bitterly will ye rue it! Your names be all down in a book ofdoom: the Normans will mutilate and butcher ye all! Better that ye diefighting! The battle is not lost, if ye will but think it is not. I waswith King Harold at the battle by Stamford Bridge, and in a worseplight than now; and yet on that day we conquered. So, up hearts, mySaxon lords and thanes! Let us make one charge more for King Harold andthe liberties of England! Nay, we will make a score good charges ere wedie!"

  But the Magnates would not be heartened, nor take up the shields andthe arms they had thrown down; and when the reinforced battalia of theNorman centre formed once more into line, and levelled their spears,and when the rest of that countless Norman host began to close roundthe Saxon army in the midst of the Camp, all the fighting men thatobeyed these Saxon lords threw down their arms, and cried forquarter--for forgiveness and mercy!

  Sad and sick was the heart of the Lord of Brunn; but this lasted butfor a moment, and his eye was bright and his face joyous as he shoutedto Elfric and the rest of his own devoted band, "Let the fools thatcourt dishonour and mutilation, and an opprobrious grave, stay here andyield; but let those who would live in freedom or die with honourfollow me! We will cut our way out of this foully betrayed Camp, andfind another Camp of Refuge where there be no monks of Ely forneighbours!"

  And at these good words three hundred stout Saxons and more formedthemselves into a compact column, and the Lord of Brunn, with Elfric byhis side, put himself in the head of the column, and the band shoutedagain, "Hereward for England! Saxons, remember Hastings!" Then wereheard the voices of command all along the different Norman lines, andfrom the right and from the left, from behind and from before, thoselines began to move and to close, and to form living barriers andhedgerows of lances on every side: and next, near voices were heardoffering fifty marks of gold to the man that should slay or seize thetraitor Hereward. But the Norman was not yet born that could withstandthe battle-axe of the Lord of Brunn: and so the Norman lines yielded tohis charge, and so he led his three hundred Saxons and moretriumphantly out of the Camp and across the fens--yea, over rivers andstreams and many waters, where Normans could not follow--until theycame into a thick wood of willows, where they found the six goodcloister-monks and the ten good lay-brothers who had fled with Elfricfrom Ely Abbey, and the party of true men from Turbutsey, who hadcarried with them the corn, meal, and wine, and likewise the body ofGirolamo of Salerno. Loudly was the Lord of Brunn greeted by every manthat was in the wood. The first thing that was done after his comingwas to bury the Salernitan. Near the edge of the wood, and by the sideof a stream, the monks of Ely of the old time had built a smallmass-house for the conveniency of the souls of some of the fenners, whocould not always quit their fishing and fowling and go so far as theabbey church; and on a green dry hillock, at the back of themass-house, there was a small coemeterium holding the wattled graves ofnot a few of the fenners.

  "This ground," said Father Celred, "is consecrated ground; the Normanswill not soon get hither, and we will leave no cross and make no signto show the stranger's grave; and every man here is too true a man everto betray the secret to the Normans."

  "And when better days come, we will provide some suitable monument forthe stranger who died in fighting for the Saxon. Girolamo, thou arthappy in that thou hast not lived to see this foul morning! FatherCelred, fathers all, I warrant ye he was a true son of the church, anddied a good Christian. So withhold not to do the rites and give himChristian burial."

  Thus spake the Lord of Brunn as he gazed upon the awfully placid faceof the Salernitan, whose body lay uncovered upon a rustic bier: and thegood monks all said that they doubted not, and would never doubt, theword of Lord Hereward. And the Saxon hinds, under the direction ofElfric, rapidly scooped out a grave on the sunniest side of the greenhillock, on the side which faced the south and was turned toward thesunny land in which the stranger was born; and when the grave was made,Hereward took his own good mantle from his shoulders and piouslywrapped it round the dead body to serve it instead of shroud andcoffin, which could not be had; and then Father Celred blessed thegrave, and the lay-brothers laid the body reverentially in it; and thenall the monks that had come from Ely said the service for the dead andchanted the _De Profundis_. Next the earth was thrown in, and the greensods, which had been removed carefully and piecemeal, were laid uponthe surface and joined together so as to unite and grow together in afew days, making the spot look like the rest of the sward: and thus,without mound or wi
thy-bound hillock, without a stone or a cross, wasleft all that could die of Girolamo the Salernitan--far, far, far awayfrom the land of his birth and of his love. Yet was his lowly grave notunhonoured.

  After these sad offices, Hereward and his party refreshed themselveswith wine and bread, and renewed their march, going in the direction ofthe river Welland and the succursal cell at Spalding.[242]

  And, meanwhile, how fared it with the Saxon idiots in the Camp who hadcast down their weapons, and trusted to Norman mercy and to Normanpromises?--How fared it? In sooth it fared with them as the Lord ofBrunn had foretold, and as it ever hath fared with men that surrenderedwhen they ought to have fought on. The conquerors, in summing up theamount of the harm they did to the Camp of Refuge, counted not thelives of the churls and serfs--which went for nothing in theireyes--but they put down that they slew, after the fight was over, ofSaxon nobles and knights and fighting-men of gentle blood, more than athousand. But happy those who were slain outright! A thousandfold worsethe fate of those that were let live: their right hands and their rightfeet were cut off, their eyes were put out, and they were cast upon thewide world to starve, or were thrown into loathsome dungeons to rot, ortransported beyond the seas to exhibit their misery to the scornfuleyes of the people of Normandie and Anjou, to remain living monumentsof Duke William's vengeance, and to be a terror to such as presumed todispute his authority. In this way some of the noblest of the land weresent into Normandie. Egelwin, the good Bishop of Durham, being found inthe Camp, was sent a close prisoner to Abingdon, where he died shortlyafter of a broken heart. Never yet heard we of a fight more noble thanthat of the Camp of Refuge, while the Lord of Brunn was there and theSaxons in heart to fight; and never yet was there a sadder scene thanthat which followed upon his departure thence! Except cattle and sheep,and armour and arms, and human bodies to hack and destroy, the Normansfound scarcely anything in the Camp, wherein they had expected to makegreat 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 lotwhen the blood of their countrymen had been poured out like water? Didthey and their house thrive after all that torture and horror in theCamp? Not so! not so! Those who deal in treachery reap treachery fortheir reward; and all men hate and scorn even the traitors who havemost served them. Before the butchery in the Camp was well over, agreat band of Normans ran to the abbey and took forcible possession ofit, and beat and reviled the monks because they did not bring forth themoney and the bread and wine which they had not to give; and these rudesoldiers lodged themselves in the house, and turned all the monks intothe barns and outhouses--all but a few, who remonstrated and resisted,and who where therefore thrown into that noxious prison undergroundinto which they had cast Elfric the night before. And on the morrow ofthe fight in the Camp, the Norman Duke[243] himself went up to theabbey with all his great chiefs, saying that he would pay his devotionsat the shrine of St. Etheldreda, albeit she was but a Saxon saint. AndWilliam 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 onboth sides of the sea?--It was just one single mark of gold,[244] andthat a mark which had been in the hands of the Jews and clipped! Andwhen he had made this splendid donation, he called the monks togetherin the hall, and told them that they must pay unto him a thousand marksof gold as the price of his pardon for the long rebellion they had beenin. And when the chapfallen chamberlain said, and said truly, thatthere was no money in the house, a sneering Norman knight told him thatthere were Jews at Norwich, and that the monks must get money bypledging their lands and by giving bonds to the Israelites. The goodAbbat Thurstan, being still sick in his bed, escaped the sight of muchof this woe: but when the prior knelt at the foot of Duke William, andsaid that he trusted he would be merciful to the ruined house, andcontinue him as the head of it, and sanction his election by thebrotherhood as lord abbat, the Duke swore his great oath, "By thesplendour of God's face," that he was not so minded; and that AbbatThurstan should be abbat still, inasmuch as he was a man of noble birthand of a noble heart. Sundry great Saxon lords, who had long since madetheir peace with the Norman, had spoken well for the high-bornThurstan; but that which decided the mind of Duke William was thereflection that, if so true and stout a man as Thurstan promised himhis allegiance, he would prove true to his promise at whatsoevercrisis; while no faith or trust could be put in the promises and vowsof such a man as the prior. And thus Thurstan[245] was told on hissick-bed that his rule was restored, and that he should be allowed toappoint and have a new set of officials, instead of the prior, thechamberlain, the sacrist and sub-sacrist the cellarer, and all the restthat had been rebellious and traitorous unto him--provided only that hewould promise to be at peace with the Normans. And, after Thurstan hadbeen most solemnly assured by some of the Saxon thanes who came to theabbey with the Conqueror, that King Harold, his benefactor, wasassuredly dead, and lay buried in Waltham Abbey, and that good termswould be granted to his friend my Lord of Brunn if he would but ceasethe hopeless contest, Thurstan promised to live in peace and to thinkno more of resistance: and before Duke William departed from the houseof Ely the lord abbat saluted him as King of England, and put his handinto his hand as a token and pledge that he was and would be true andliege man unto him. It cost his Saxon heart a pang which almost made itcrack; but having thus pledged himself, nothing upon earth, beingearthly, would ever make Thurstan untrue to the Norman.

  In leaving the abbey, the Conqueror did not remove with him all theNormans. On the contrary, he called up still more knights andmen-at-arms, and ordered them all to quarter themselves upon themonks, and be by them entertained with meat, drink, and pay, as wellas lodging.[246] The Norman knights and soldiers kept possession ofthe best parts of the house, respecting only the inner apartments ofthe restored abbat: the knights suspended their arms and shields inthe great hall, where the arms of the Saxon thanes had lately hung,and in the refectory at every meal-time a hungry Norman soldier wasseated by the side of every monk. This was a strange and unseemlysight to see in the common hall of so noble and once so religious ahouse; but it was the will of the Conqueror that it should be so, andthe monks had brought down all these mischiefs upon their own heads.From the lands and revenues especially appertaining to Thurstan aslord abbat, the Norman knights were not allowed to take much; but uponthose appertaining to the monks in common, they fell withoutrestriction and without remorse, seizing a manor here and a manorthere, and getting them converted into heritable property, to theirheirs for ever, by grant and fief-charter from Duke William. And whileso many broad hides were taken from them for good, the monks werecompelled 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 tofind meat and drink, and whatsoever else was demanded by theirrapacious guests. Sad grew the monks of Ely, and every day thinner.The knights and men-at-arms ever helped themselves first, and veryoften left their unwilling hosts nothing to eat. The proverb about theglorious feast of the monks of Ely seemed to have become nothing but aproverb, or the mere legend of a state of happiness which had passedaway never to return. Greater still had been the woes of the monks ifthe restored abbat had been prone to spite and vengeance, for theNormans were willing to put a rod of iron in his hands, and would haverejoiced to see him use it; but Thurstan had a forgiving heart, andwhen he had deprived the worst of the officials of their offices, andhad gotten the prior and the chamberlain removed to other houses faraway from the Isle of Ely, he took pity upon all the rest of theconvent, 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 ofthat time the good old Thurstan died, and was interred in the chancelamong his mitred predecessors.[247] And then still worse befel themonks; for Duke William, or his brother Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, broughtover o
ne of their most fighting and turbulent monks from Normandie,and made him lord abbat of Ely;[248] and this new abbat did not ceasefrom persecuting the Saxon monks until two-thirds of them were intheir graves, and their places supplied by French monks. These werethe things which befel the convent after their foul rebellion againstAbbat Thurstan, and their fouler betrayal of the Camp of Refuge.