THE DISINHERITED IN THE ISLE OF ELY (1266-1267).
Source.—Chronicon Thomæ Wykes, pp. 192-193, 204, 207-210. (Annales Monastici, vol. iv.—Rolls Series.)
A.D. 1266.—About Michaelmas, a great body of the disinherited, forming a strong confederation, gathered together secretly, and took possession, more by guile than by force, and with the connivance of the inhabitants, of a marshy district, surrounded by lakes and rivers, and girded in by impassable marshes, commonly called the Isle of Ely. This place, after they had effected their entrance—and the islanders were unable to resist such a host of invaders—they immediately stored with arms and provisions, and built defences which so cunningly closed up the entrances and exits that no one could approach without their consent; while they themselves were accustomed to cross to the neighbouring counties, and there, accompanied by the great band of robbers whom they had collected, they seized and carried off to the aforesaid island, by deeds of evil daring, and without respect of persons or places, for their own sustenance and that of their dependants, whatever food or furnishings they could find in Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridge, or in any of the districts round about; and in that island they abode safely without being disturbed all winter....
A.D. 1267.—Since the King with his nobles was engaged, as we have said, in the siege of London, the nobles on the island, perceiving that the administration of the law was lax, and being therefore controlled by no fear of restraint or armed resistance, but rejoicing in the licence thus permitted them, harassed the neighbouring district by frequent marauding expeditions, conducted with the usual cruelty....
But now, the lord Edward, his heart full of the desolation of the Island of Ely, decided that he must use guile as well as force to reduce by warlike means its treacherous occupants. (For, against such dastardly robbers as these, to employ cunning must not be considered a sin, but rather a virtue, since in dealing with enemies of the State victory is a consideration paramount to good faith.) Therefore, striving with noble zeal to put a stop, in the interest of the whole realm, to the fierce attacks of this great host, Edward cunningly entered into a secret compact with the lord Nicholas de Segrave, the warden to whom had been entrusted the guardianship of the defences or fortifications by which assailants were easily kept back from the approach to the island, his aim being to prevent any check from that direction to the plans which he had conceived and was endeavouring to carry into effect; and when this bargain had been firmly and faithfully sealed, he entered the monastery of Ramsey, near to the marshes, with a large band of men, and brought the people of the district over to his side by promises and bribes, enjoining them not to fear the danger of death should they be compelled by fate or ill-fortune (which might Heaven forbid!) to die with him; then the country people, who had come, by frequent examination, to know the most secret places of that wide extent of marsh land, sailing or walking over it constantly as they did, fashioned hidden paths through places formerly impassable, making bridges by means of bundles of reeds wrought together; and the bounty of Nature supplied the defects of their skill. By this means a body both of foot-soldiers and horsemen crossed almost as on dry land. Two hot summers in succession added to the success of this artifice, by causing places, formerly so swampy as to offer no sure foothold, to be quite dried up by the heat, so that it truly might be said, "Here is the finger of God." Thus the soldiers were enabled, by traversing the paths pointed out to them by the country people, whose fears vanished under the leadership of so famous a general, and by the connivance of the lord aforesaid, who held to his compact, to cross the fortifications and defences without resistance, and, without the knowledge of the islanders, to halt on solid ground within the bounds of the island, separated from their enemies only by a small stream; this, too, they were able to cross without any difficulty by filling it up with bundles of reeds, of which they had a plentiful supply, to the terror and stupefaction of the other inhabitants, who now observed them. Astounded by the sudden, unexpected arrival of so many strangers, the islanders were slow to make defence or resistance; but lest they should seem to be entirely inactive, they sent forward to the river a number of crossbowmen and archers, who, by clearing a passage with their arrows, or even by a slow retreat, might grant the nobles time to gird on their armour, assume their weapons, and bear down on these unexpected adversaries; but the plan failed, for the lord Edward, fearing that his bold device might come to nought through weakness in defence, ordered his crossbowmen and archers to engage the enemy's archers from the other side of the stream; and when his army, having almost completed its passageway, was courageously commencing to attack the enemy, whom he saw near at hand ready to fight, the lord Edward publicly proclaimed that if anyone attacked any of his men or by any act of rebellion hindered him in carrying out his enterprise, such an one would suffer death by hanging or execution, should success—and of that there was no doubt—crown his efforts. On this, the fierce courage of the islanders weakened and gave way, and all, struck by sudden fear, laying aside their haughty fierceness, with bowed heads meekly surrendered, and—though they had refused to hear of it previously—submitted themselves to the ever-gracious clemency of the Prince.
Then Edward, granting them a simulated pardon, which, indeed, not to pass over it in silence, they had deserved, allowed a truce of barely two days in which, sacrilegiously gathering together their spoil, they should vacate the surrendered city and island. They departed, all alike in confusion and disgrace, to the no small joy of the provincials, who were now restored to their possessions and rejoiced in their ancient liberty. But the victorious army, in triumphal procession, with trumpets sounding joyfully, entered the city, while all the citizens, together with the few remaining monks, gave thanks to the King of Kings, who, pitying the distress of the city and province, had destroyed that evil horde of wicked men, and, striking from their necks the insupportable yoke of slavery, had restored their liberty under the protection of their future Prince.