Now it was in thinking upon this legend that Elfric, the sword-bearer of the Lord of Brunn, was brought to turn his thoughts upon the now well-peopled town and well-cultivated fields of the upland of Dereham; and thus thinking, and knowing the store of wine and corn that might be had in that vicinage, he had proposed to his lord to make a foray in that direction, and to proceed, in part, after the manner in which the Lord Abbat of the olden time had proceeded when he went to steal away the body of the saint. And Elfric had been thanked by the Lord Hereward for his suggestion, and had been called into council as well as Girolamo, and had given many hints as to the best means of carrying out the good plan of robbing the Saxons of Dereham (who had rather tamely submitted to the Normans), in order to feed the monks of Ely and the Saxons of the Camp of Refuge.
Because of the many waters and the streams that cut up the country into the form and appearance of some great echec[[228]] board, Duke William had not been able to make his line of beleaguerment quite so perfect and strong on this side of the Fen-country as he had done on the other sides; but he had posted a good number of archers and spearmen on the uplands beyond the fens, and between Swaffham and Dereham, and upon these he relied for checking the incursions of the Saxons, and keeping them out of countries abounding with supplies. Now Lord Hereward had caused to be collected a good number of skerries and other light and fast boats, even as the good abbat had done aforetime, and these boats had been sent up the river by night to the vicinage of Brandon, where, with the brave fellows on board of them, they lay concealed among the tall rushes. And while the Lord of Brunn, crossing the rivers and meres, collected a good force in front of Swaffham, which would not fail of drawing all the Norman troops towards that one point, his sword-bearer and the Salernitan were to make rapidly for Brandon with more men, and from Brandon to make for Dereham; so timing their movements, in small parties and along different paths, that they should all meet in the churchyard and by Saint Withburga’s well at midnight of a moonless night, when the town would be buried in sleep.
On the day next after that on which the evil-minded prior of Ely had formally accused Girolamo of witchcraft, and had spoken so daringly against the Lord Abbat, Hereward marched from the Camp of Refuge with only a few men, his intention being to increase his strength on his march; and well did he know that at the sounding of his horn, and at the sight of his banner, the hardy fenners would follow him whithersoever he might choose to lead. The gleemen and menestrels who sang the songs which had been made in honour of him were the best and surest recruiters for the army of the Lord of Brunn. They were ever going from township to township, with their voices and harps, or Saxon lyres. They were small townships these in the fenny countries, and rustical and wild. The fashion of house-building had little changed here since the days of the ancient Britons: the houses or huts were of a round shape, and not unlike the form of bee-hives; they had a door in front, and an opening at top to let out the smoke, but window to let in the light was there none; the walls were made of wattle and dab, the roofs of rushes and willow branches cut in the fens; but the better sort of the houses had stone foundations and rough stone pillars and traves for the door-way, the stone having been brought from the quarry belonging to Peterborough Abbey, or from some other distant quarry. Yet these poor houses were not so comfortless within as might have been prejudged by those who only saw the outside; the hides of the cattle, the fleeces of the sheep, and the skins of the deer, and the abounding feathers of the fen-fowl were good materials for warm covering and warm clothing; neither turf nor wood for firing was ever lacking in those parts, and the brawny churls that came forth from the townships, blowing their blast-horns, or shouting for the Lord of Brunn, or brandishing their fen poles over their heads, did not look as if they were scant of meat, or fasted more frequently than mother church prescribed. At the same time Elfric and Girolamo, with their party, began their devious, roundabout march for Brandon, being instructed to keep as much out of sight even of the country people as was possible, and to shun any encounter with the Normans, even though tempted by ever so favourable an opportunity. Hereward had said to them, “Our present business is to get corn and wine for the abbey, and not to fight. Be cautious and true to time, and diverge not a hair’s breadth from the plan which hath been laid down. Conjoint or combined operations fail oftener through vanity and conceit than through any other cause. But ye be not men of that sort; ye will get your stores down to the boats at Brandon by daybreak to-morrow morning, or between lauds and prime, and I shall then have made my retreat, and be upon the bank of the river[[229]] between Hockwold and Brandon, and ready to give ye the hand if it should be needful. Elfric, mind keep thy swinging hanger in its sheath, and think only of bread and wine!” And unto these, the parting words of their lord and captain, the sword-bearer and the Salernitan had both said, “Upon our souls be it!” And well did they redeem their solemn pledge. The wise monks who went to steal away the body of the saint were hardly so prudent and cautelous. Elfric even eschewed the marvellous temptation of falling upon a young Norman knight that was riding along the high-road between Brandon and Dereham, attended by only two men-at-arms and a horse-boy. By keeping under cover, and by creeping in little parties of twos or threes across the country where there was no cover to conceal them, the forayers all got safely into the churchyard and to St. Withburga’s well at midnight. The Lord of Brunn, who had not sought concealment, but had taken the most direct and open road, and exposed his movement as much as he could do, had got behind Swaffham by the hour of sunset, and had made such a hubbub and kindled such a fire in the country between Swaffham and Castle Acre that all the Normans had marched off in that direction, even as had been anticipated. Even the young knight and his attendants, whom Elfric had let pass on the road, had spurred away for Castle Acre, which, at one time, was reported to be on fire. In this sort there was not a Norman left in Dereham; and as for the Saxons of the town, after wondering for a season what was toward, they came to the conclusion that it was business which did not concern them, and so went quietly to their beds—the burgher and the freeman to his sheets of strong brown linen, and the hind and serf to his coverlet of sheep-skins or his bed of straw. The snoring from the little township was so loud that a good ear could hear it in the church-yard; the very dogs of the place seemed all asleep, and there was not a soul in Dereham awake and stirring except a grey-headed old Saxon, who came with horn lantern in one hand and a big wooden mallet in the other to strike upon the church bell which hung in a little round tower apart, but not far from the church. As the old man came tottering among the graves and hillocks of earth, behind which the foraying party was all concealed, Elfric whispered to Girolamo, “For this night the midnight hour must remain untold by church-bell in Dereham. We must make capture of this good grey-beard, and question him as to where lie the most stores, and where the best horses and asses.”
And scarcely were the words said or whispered ere Girolamo had fast hold of the bell-knocker on the one side, and Elfric on the other. The patriarch of Dereham was sore affrighted, and would have screamed out if Elfric had not thrust his cap, feather and all, into his open mouth. Gaffer continued to think that he was clutched by goblins or by devils; as the dim and yellow light from the horn lantern fell upon the sharp dark face of the Salernitan, the old fellow, fortified in his belief, shook and trembled like leaves of the witch-elm, or more tremulous aspen, and nearly swooned outright. Elfric took the cap out of his mouth, and let go the right arm of the old man, who thereupon took to crossing himself, and muttering some fragment of a Saxon prayer potent against evil spirits.
“Father,” said Elfric, who was now holding the horn lantern, “Father, we be no evil spirits or goblins, but honest Saxons from the Camp of Refuge come to seek corn and wine for the good monks of Ely; so tell us where we can best provide ourselves, and find cattle to carry our store down to Brandon. Come, quick, good Gaffer, for the time presses!”
When the old man looked into the merry laughing face of the ruddy-cheeked, fair-haired sword-bearer, his dread evanished, for there was no believing such a face to belong to any body or thing that was evil. Gaffer, moreover, bethought himself that he had never yet heard of spirit, ghost, or goblin asking for bread and wine. In brief, the old hind was very soon comforted altogether, and having no corn or wine of his own, and no great love for those that had, he soon gave all the information that was demanded of him; and this being got, Elfric gave a low whistle, and the armed Saxons started up from their hiding places behind the grave mounds, and Saint Withburga’s well, and other parts and corners of the churchyard, and ranged themselves in battle-array, and marched into the one long single street of the town. The houses of Dereham, in this dry and rich upland country, were better than the houses in the fens, but still most of them were small, and low, and poor, and rudely covered with thatch. Some larger and better houses there were, and of most of these the Norman chiefs and their soldiers had taken possession. The presbyter or mass-priest and the borhman[[230]] had, however, kept the good houses that were their own, and they had granaries with corn in them, and cellars holding both wine and ale, and barns and yards behind their houses, and stables, that were not empty; but these it was resolved not to touch, except, perhaps, for the purpose of borrowing a horse or two to carry the corn and the wine, that might be gotten elsewhere, down to the boats below Brandon. While Girolamo remained with one good party at the end of the street watching the road which leads into the town from Swaffham and Castle Acre, Elfric with another party of the merry men proceeded right merrily to levy the contribution. He began with the Norman houses. Here the Saxon serfs, though somewhat alarmed when first roused from their deep sleep, not only threw open their doors with alacrity, but also led Elfric’s people to the cellars and store-houses. Nay, upon a little talk with the fen-men, and after an agreement made between them that the doors should be broken as if violence had been used, and some resistance attempted, they threw open all parts of the houses, stables, and outhouses, and assisted their countrymen in packing up their booty, in harnessing the horses and asses, as well as in other necessary offices. Not a murmur was heard until they came to visit some of the houses of the freed-men of Dereham. These men, who had some small stores of their own, were more angered than comforted by being told that the corn was to make bread for the monks of Ely; for, strange and wicked as it may appear, it was nevertheless quite true, that in Dereham the translation of Saint Withburga’s body had never been forgiven, but was still held as a piece of cheating and thievery, notwithstanding the heavenly bot or compensation of the miraculous well, and in spite of King Edgar’s charter, and the subsequent approval of our lord the Pope, and maugre the fact obvious to all men that the saint was better lodged at Ely than ever she could have been in this little church. In truth, those freemen made an exceeding great clamour. “To the devil with the monks of Ely for us,” said they. “In the bygone times they came to Dereham and treacherously stole away the body of our saint by night, and now they send armed men to break upon our sleep and carry off our grain!”
Elfric bade them remember and mind that the Lord Abbat of Ely was lord and proprietor of Dereham, and that they were or ought to be his liege men; and as they continued to complain, and to say that they wished the Normans would soon get back from Swaffham and Castle Acre, Elfric broke the pates of two or three of them with one of their own staves. But nowhere could these men do more than grumble; their numbers being but small, and the serfs being mostly on the other side: moreover, arms had they none, their friends the Normans having taken care of that. Having found cattle enough elsewhere, Elfric would not molest the mass-priest, who slept so soundly that he heard nothing of what was passing, and knew nothing of the matter until Elfric had gotten down to the little Ouse, or twenty good miles from Dereham.
It was midnight when the fen-men arrived at Dereham town, and before prime they were below Brandon, and loading their boats with the corn and wine which had previously loaded a score of good upland pack-horses, and more than a score of dapple asses. “This,” said Elfric, “is not a bad lift for one night’s work! I should like to see the face of the Normans when they return from Swaffham and Castle Acre into Dereham!”
Even Girolamo seemed merry, and almost smiled, as he counted the measures of corn and the measures of wine. But hark! a brazon trumpet is heard from the other side of Brandon; aye, the blast of a trumpet, and a Norman trumpet too; and before the Saxons had half finished loading their boats, a great body of Norman cavalry came trotting down the road which ran along the bank of the river, being followed at no great distance by a great company of Norman bowmen. It was not from Dereham that these foes came—oh no! the Normans who had quitted that town on the preceding evening to look after Lord Hereward, had not yet returned, and some of them never would return—but it had so chanced that an armament on the march from Saint Edmundsbury and Thetford came this morning to Brandon and caught sight of the boats on the river, and of the armed Saxons on the bank. Some of the midnight party thought that it would be best to get into the boats and abandon the half of the booty; but this was not to be thought of, inasmuch as not a drop of the wine which the monks of Ely so much wanted had been gotten into the boats. Girolamo and Elfric saw at a glance (and it was needful to have quick sight and instant decision, for the Normans were almost upon them), that the ground they stood upon, being a narrow road, with a deep river on one side, and a ditch and a low, broad, and marshy meadow on the other, was good defensive ground, for the horse could only charge upon the narrow road, and it would take the archers afoot some time to get across the ditch into the fields, if, indeed, the archers should decide upon adventuring on that swampy ground.
“We can make them dance the dance we have given them before,” said the Salernitan. “Tie me those pack-horses and asses tight together between the Norman horse and us, pile up these barrels and bags; leap, twenty good bowmen, into those boats, and ascend the river a little, and string to ear and take these horsemen in flank as they come down the road, while we meet them in the teeth with pikes and javelins.”