CHAPTER XV.
THE CASTLE AT CAM-BRIDGE AND A BATTLE.
When the Normans first came into England, the town of Cam-Bridge, orGrant-Bridge, was not the stately town which we have seen it since, norwas it the flourishing place which it had been in the time of the SaxonHeptarchy.[165] According to the Venerable Bede, Sebert, or Sigebert,King of the East Angles, by the advice of Felix the Bishop, institutedwithin his kingdom a school for learning, in imitation of what he hadseen in France; and this school is believed to have been fixed on thevery spot where the town of Cam-Bridge now stands.[166] Others thereare who say that a school had flourished there in the time of theRomans, and that Sebert, or Sigebert, only restored this school in theyear of our Lord six hundred and thirty. Certain it is that from a veryearly time Cam-Bridge was the residence of many students, who at firstlived in apartments hired of the townspeople, and afterwards in inns orhostels of their own, where they formed separate communities, of whicheach was under its own head or principal. But in the fiery distractionof the Danish invasion of England, when abbats and monks and religiouswomen were slaughtered at the feet of their own altars, and churchesand abbeys and monasteries consumed, the pagan flames fell upon thisquiet seat of learning, and left nothing behind but ashes and ruins.After this the place lay a long time neglected. There are some whowrite that when, about the year of grace nine hundred and twenty, KingEdward, surnamed the Elder, and the eldest son and successor of Alfredthe Great, repaired the ravages of the Danes at Cam-Bridge, he erectedhalls for students, and appointed learned professors; but these factsappear to be questionable, and it is thought that, although learningwould no more abandon the place than the waters of the river Cam wouldcease to flow by it, the scholars were in a poor and insecurecondition, and were living not in the halls or colleges of statelyarchitecture, but under the thatched roofs of the humble burghers, whenthe blast of the Norman trumpets was first heard in the land. At thatsound all humane studies were suspended. The town and territory roundit were bestowed upon a Norman chief, and Norman men-at-arms werequartered in the houses which had lodged the students. But it was notuntil the third year after the battle of Hastings, when Duke Williambecame sorely alarmed at the great strength of the Saxons, gathered orstill gathering in the neighbouring isle of Ely, that Cam-Bridge feltto their full extent the woes attendant on wars and foreign conquest.Then it was made a great military station, and a castle was built tolodge more soldiers, and command and control the town and all thevicinity. Just beyond the river Cam, and opposite to the littletownship, there stood, as there still stands, a lofty barrow or moundof earth,[167] overgrown with green sward, and looking like thosemounds which the traveller observes by Salisbury plains, and on theplain where the ancient city of Troy once stood. This great cone wasnot raised and shaped by nature. The common people, who will be forever betraying their ignorance, said that the devil had made it, forsome ridiculous purpose; but learned men opined that it had been raisedby the ancient Britons[168] for some purpose of defence, or as somelasting monument to the great dead. When the Romans came and conqueredthe 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; butthese works had either been destroyed by the Danes or had been allowedto fall into decay and into ruin through the too great negligence ofthe Saxons. Now from top of this green hillock, looking across riversand meres and flat fens, where the highest tree that grew was themarsh-willow, a good eye could see for many miles and almost penetrateinto the recesses of the isle of Ely and the Camp of Refuge. The oldRoman road or causeway, called the Ermine[169] Street, which led intothe heart of the fen country, ran close under the mound and a littleoutside the trenches of the Roman camp. Seeing all the advantages ofthe 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 placeof arms wherein might be collected the means of attacking theindomitable Camp of Refuge, the Normans cleared out the broad ditcheswhich the Romans had dug, and which time and accident or design hadfilled up, restored the double circumvallation of earthen walls orembankments, erected a strong castle within, and raised the Julius, orkeep or main tower of the castle, upon the summit of the mound, wherethe old Roman tower or guard-house had stood. They had not been allowedto do all this work without many interruptions and night-attacks of thedaring people of the neighbouring fens, or by the bold Saxons who hadfled for refuge into the isle of Ely. But when the work was finishedthe Normans boasted that they had bitted and bridled the wild Saxonhorse of the fens. For some time past knights, and men-at-arms, andbowmen, and foot-soldiers, drawn from nearly every country in Europe toaid the son of Robert the Devil in conquering the little island ofEngland, had been arriving at the entrenched camp and castle ofCam-Bridge; whither also had come from the city of London and fromvarious of the towns and ports which had quietly submitted to thestrangers, great convoys of provisions and stores of arms and armourand clothes; and all these aliens had been telling such of the Englishpeople as could understand them, and had not fled from the town, thatthey were going to assault the great house at Ely and the Camp ofRefuge, and hang all the traitors and rebels they might find there,upon the willow trees. Nothing, however, could be undertaken in theland of marshes and rushes until the rainy season should be over andthe waters somewhat abated. Now it happened this year that the rainsceased much earlier than was usual, and that the summer sun, as ifimpatient for empire, began to rule and to dry up the wet ground longbefore the season of spring was passed. There fell very little rainafter the quinquane of Pasche,[170] but after the feast of SaintWalburga the Virgin there fell no rain at all, and the weather becameuncommonly dry and hot. It was pleasant to the eye to see the waters ofthe Cam, the Ouse, the Welland, the Nene, the Witham, and the otherrivers retiring as it were into their natural beds, and flowing verysmoothly and clearly towards the great Wash; to see green meadowsre-appear where pools and meres had been, and flocks and herdsbeginning to graze where boats and skerries and men walking upon tallstilts had been seen but a few weeks before; to see, as far as the eyecould reach, a beautiful green prospect, with rich pastures, glidingrivers, and adornments of woods and islands. But if this was pleasantto the eye, it was not conducive to the security of the Saxon chiefs.On the vigil of Saint Bede the Venerable, priest and confessor, whichfalls on the twenty-seventh of the decades of May, Eustache ofAmbleville, a Norman captain of high repute, who had come over withWilliam and the first incomers, and had fought at the battle ofHastings, arrived at Cam-Bridge with more soldiers, and with ordersfrom William to take the entire command of all the forces collected inthe camp and castle. Eustache was so confident of an easy victory thathe would not allow himself to think of the possibility of any defeat orreverse. 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 Refugeis no more! In three days' time we shall be feasting in the hall ofthis rebellious abbat, who hath so long defied us!" The other knightsthat were to follow him in this adventure were just as confident asEustache of Ambleville, and the men-at-arms were already calculatinghow they should divide the spoil that was to be made at Ely. Little didthey think how the shrine-boxes had all been emptied! Less still didthey think of the great loss of goods they themselves were going tosustain!
Much did these Normans pretend to despise our Saxon fathers for theirignorance of the stratagems of war, and for their general dulness: andyet it must be confessed that they themselves gave very many proofs ofignorance and dulness, as well as of great negligence, the fruit of theunwise contempt in which they held their adversaries. Before thearrival of Eustache some few of the Normans had ridden along thecauseway as far as they could conveniently go on horseback, but for thestate of the country beyond their ride they trusted to mere report,taking no pains whatever to inform themselves accurately. They had allbeen told of the extraordinary deeds which Hereward had performed, butthey gave the whole merit of thes
e exploits to Crowland devils andother fiends and goblins that were not to be feared in summer weatheror in daylight. They had been told that the Lord of Brunn was awell-skilled commander, but they would not believe that any Saxonwhatsoever could be a great soldier. Instead of being cautious andsilent as to their intended attack, they had been loudly proclaiming iton every side. Certes, Duke William was a knowing soldier himself, andone that did great things in war, being cautelous and discreet; but,wherever he was not, his chiefs in command did not much. It was ratherfor the sake of avoiding the heat of the day than for any other reasonthat Eustache resolved to begin his march at midnight. He did not thinkof surprising the Saxons, and, as for being surprised by them, hescornfully laughed at the notion. He wished, he said, that the rebelsand traitors should know that he was coming, in order that they mightcollect all their forces in the camp, and so afford him the opportunityof destroying them all at one blow. His chief fear was that Herewardthe Saxon would flee from the mere terror of his name.
On the midnight which followed the feast of Saint Bede the Normansbegan to issue from their castle and camp. There shone a bright moonalong the causeway where they formed their array. First went a greattroop of horse with lances and long pennants floating from them. Nextwent a body of archers bearing long bows and quivers well stocked withlong arrows. Then followed a large and miserable company of Saxon serfsand hinds, who had been forcibly impressed into the service, and whowere laden like beasts of burthen, carrying stores and provisions ontheir backs, and hurdles, and planks, and other pieces of timber, bymeans of which these too confident Normans hoped to be able to crossevery ditch, stream, and river. After this unhappy company theremarched another band of archers; and then there went another and stillgreater body of horse; and in the rear of all were more bowmen. As theraised road was very narrow the horsemen marched only two abreast, andthe footmen only three abreast; and thus, as the total number of thearmy was great, the line was very long and thin; and the knights ridingin the rear would seldom either hear or see what was passing in thevan. Yet merrily and thoughtlessly they went on singing their Normanwar-songs, their bridles ringing sharp and clear in the cool night airas if to accompany the music of their songs, and their brightlance-heads glinting in the moon-light: thus merrily and thoughtlesslyuntil the van came abreast of Fenny Ditton, where the road or causewaywas flanked on either side by a broad deep ditch or canal, and by along belt of thick growing willows and alders. But here Eustache, andthe other knights that rode in the van, heard a loud voice shouting invery good Norman-French--"Halt, horse and foot! No farther to-night!Saxons true do forbid your advance!" And, well nigh at the same momentthose knights and soldiers that rode in the rear heard another loudvoice shouting--"Halt, Normans! Halt ye must, but ye shall not get backto Cam-Bridge unless ye can swim the ditch." It seemed as though somehollow willow-trees had spoken, for neither in front nor rear was therea man seen. But presently the loud voices spoke again, and a stilllouder voice was heard about mid-way between the two, and all the threevoices cried--"Saxons, your bow-strings to your ears, and next a chargefor England and Lord Hereward!" As soon as these words were heard inthe centre, the Saxon serfs, whom the Normans had impressed, threw theprovisions and stores they carried right across the broad ditches;threw down the hurdles and beams and timber on the road, and then, witha wild yell, rushed into the water and swam across to the covering ofthe trees. But in the centre those trees were all alive before thesemen reached them, and no sooner were they seen to be safe than a rushwas made towards the ground which they had abandoned. All fen-men swim,but to make their passage the quicker light bridges were laid acrossthe ditches, and moving from the right-hand side of the road and fromthe left-hand side two bodies of Saxons, well armed with bows andbillhooks, established themselves on the causeway just where Eustache'slong line was broken. In vain did the Normans nearest to it think ofclosing up that fatal gap; the Saxon serfs had so thrown about theirtimber on the road that they could not cross it without falling orstumbling. The Saxons, who had just got into the gap, making themselvesshields of the hurdles, fought fiercely with bill and bow, and theircomrades behind the willow trees smote the thin Norman lines on bothsides with their arrows. Eustache of Ambleville, without seeing orknowing that his army was cut in twain, went charging along thecauseway with his van, the Saxon arrows rattling on their steel jacketsall the while; for here, as in the centre and rear, every tree thatgrew on either side the road covered some Saxon bowman. But short wasEustache's career, for he found the causeway cut away before hishorse's feet, and a trench much broader than any horse could leap, cutacross from ditch to ditch; and beyond this trench was a good barricadeformed of felled trees, after the fashion used by that true Saxon thelate Lord Abbat of Saint Alban's: and from behind that breastwork andacross the trench there came such a flight of arrows and spears andjavelins, and other missiles, that neither Eustache nor any of hispeople could stand it. Then the trumpet in the van sounded the retreat.The Norman knight, commanding in the rear, had sounded the retreatbefore this, and finding that he could not force his way forward, hehad begun to retrace his steps towards Cam-Bridge Castle: but thisrearward knight had not gone further in arrear than Eustache hadcareered in advance ere he found the road broken, and a barricade offreshly cut willow trees laid across it with bowmen and billmen behindit. Horsemen and archers being mixed, as in the van, the rear turnedback again along the causeway, as if determined to drive the Saxonsfrom off the road and so unite themselves with the van from which theywere severed; and thus van and rear were moving in oppositedirections--were rushing to meet and hustle against each other on thatnarrow way, even as waves beat against waves in a mighty storm. Theirmeeting would have been very fatal; but they could not meet at all, forthe Saxons that had made the great gap had been reinforced from eitherside; they had made barricades of the timber, and they plied with theirsharp archery the heads of both the Norman columns, while other Saxonsassailed those columns on their flanks, and still another band throwinga flying-bridge over the chasm, where Eustache had been made to halt,and turn back, charged along the causeway, still shouting, "Herewardfor England! Pikes, strike home, for the Lord of Brunn sees ye!" Andforemost of all those pikes was the Lord Hereward himself, who shoutedmore than once, "Stop, Eustache! Run not so fast, Eustache ofAmbleville! 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 desperation, the Normans began toleap from the fatal narrow causeway into the ditches, where many of theheavily-armed men and divers knights were drowned. Some surrendered toLord Hereward on the road, and were admitted to quarter. Others werekilled in heaps; and the rest, succeeding in crossing the ditches, andin getting through the willow groves, ran for their lives across theopen country towards Cam-Bridge. Dry as the season was, there werestill many bogs and morasses in those plains, and into these many ofthe panic-stricken fugitives ran and sank up to their necks. AsGirolamo, the Salernitan, led one of the parties of Saxons in pursuit,he muttered to himself in his own tongue, "Those Normans in Englishbogs look like so many Mariuses[171] in the marshes of Minturnum!"Those were the most fortunate that sank where the sedges grew thick, orthe bulrushes concealed them. Those who showed their heads above thebog were for the most part slain by spears or arrows. In all, notone-third of the force, which Sir Eustache had led forth a few hoursbefore with so much pride and confidence, got back alive to the campand castle at Cam-Bridge: all the horses had been drowned orsuffocated, or wounded, and rendered 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 lefthis standard behind him in the hands of the Lord Hereward, who, afterthis signal victory, returned in triumph, and with his spolia opima, toEly Abbey, where the monks in the choir sang "Te Deum Laudamus."
As for Eustache of Ambleville, he soon quitted the command of the postat Cam-Bridge, and cursing the Fen Country, as a place where knight
sand horses were of no use, he made the best haste he could back toLondon city. For many a long day the Normans left at Cam-Bridge wouldnot venture outside the walls of their castle.
It boots not to tell of what became of that other Norman forcecollected in Huntingdon for the invasion of the isle of Ely. Was it notoverthrown and totally discomfited at Fenny Stanton? And was not this,and were not other victories gained by the Saxons from the Camp ofRefuge, recited in the songs in praise of Lord Hereward, which theSaxon people now began to sing about the streets of our cities andgreat towns, even in the hearing of their Norman oppressors?
The Camp of Refuge: A Tale of the Conquest of the Isle of Ely Page 17