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Updated: June 3, 2025
Of Alftruda? Not so. But of that pale ghost, with great black hollow eyes, who sat in Crowland, with thin bare feet, and sackcloth on her tender limbs, watching, praying, longing, loving, uncomplaining. That ghost had been for many a month the background of all his thoughts and dreams.
Then perished all the riches of Crowland; its library too, of more than seven hundred volumes, with that famous Nadir, or Orrery, the like whereof was not in all England, wherein the seven planets were represented, each in their proper metals.
But in those days a man could only escape facts by drinking; and Hereward was too much afraid of what he should meet in Crowland, to go thither drunk. Sometimes he hoped that Torfrida might hold her purpose, and set him free to follow his wicked will.
"She is flying to some far nunnery mayhap to Crowland that there she may end her days in what peace she may find. It is well, for here with her mother is but terror for her." The archbishop signed to me, and I went to the side of that litter, unhelming, while Erling took my horse's bridle. There I knelt on one knee, and waited for what I was to hear.
"And nine-and-forty of them," says the chronicler, "he chose to guard Bourne," seemingly the lands which had been his nephew Morcar's, till he should come back and take them for himself. Godiva's lands, of Witham, Toft and Mainthorpe, Gery his cousin should hold till his return, and send what he could off them to his mother at Crowland.
One was Martin Lightfoot, the other Leofric the Unlucky. "Who sent you?" asked he surlily, turning his face away. "She." "Who?" "We know but one she, and she is at Crowland." "She sent you? and wherefore?" "That we might sing to you, and make you merry." Hereward answered them with a terrible word, and turned his face to the wall, groaning, and then bade them sternly to go.
I met Roger Pepys, newly come out of the country: in discourse he told me that his grandfather, my great grandfather, had 800l. per annum in Queene Elizabeth's time in the very town of Cottenham; and that we did certainly come out of Scotland with the Abbot of Crowland.
He would send them bread, meat, ale, all they needed. But woe to the man who set foot upon his ground." Hereward sent off messengers to Crowland, warning all to be ready to escape into the fens; and entreating Ulfketyl to empty his storehouses into his barges, and send food to the Danes, ere a day was past.
Crowland is at the confluence of two rivers, which flow sluggishly through this flat but beautiful and verdant region. The remains of the old abbey still stand, built on piles driven into the marshy ground, and they form at the present time a very interesting mass of ruins.
It is a gift for a King!" and Ulf was content. And History tells that in after days, when King Knut wanted to make an especially valuable gift to the Minster of Crowland, he could think of nothing richer than twelve great white bearskins, one for each of the twelve Apostles. I like to believe that one of them had a deep cleft in the back of the head, where Ulf's axe sank in.
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