which spans the river here and brings me into Cambridgeshire I pause a moment to examine some queer little houses by the riverside. They are smaller than any cottages I have hitherto seen in the Eastern counties, and with hardly an exception are lopsided owing to the gradual subsidence of the land on which they are built. Scarcely a roof-ridge is perfectly level; not a few of the shaky little buildings look as though a gust of wind would blow them down. It is only by the riverside, however. The Road to Littleport. that the houses have suffered in this way, for although Littleport is a large parish, containing over sixteen thousand acres of fen, the greater part of the town stands on slightly higher and perfectly solid ground. The tower of its old church is lofty, and in the days when the fens were swampy and roadless served as a landmark, and bore a beacon light at night to guide strangers to the town. Once over Littleport bridge and I have left the fens for a while, for the road from Littleport to Ely runs across the higher lands of the Isle of Ely. I Now enter upon a singularly interesting section of my journey. I am approaching the last stronghold the AngloSaxons held against the conquering Normans. Before me-I get a glimpse of its towers almost as soon as I have left Littleport, though it is still some miles distant-is a glorious fane of the fens-that fane which arose on the site of St. Etheldreda's Saxon church. Near it was the Saxons' Camp of Refuge. On and around this famous fen isle were done some of the bravest deeds of which England can boast. Here, Hereward the Wake performed some of his most wonderful exploits. Here, a handful of brave men, commanding a few fenmen unskilled in arms, and the fragments of a scattered force, held out against the most successful warrior of his time. Here, treachery at last effected what force and strategic skill could not accomplish, and reaped its due reward. Some historians would have us CH. XI HEREWARD THE WAKE 307 believe that Hereward is a mythical personage and that the famous exploits attributed to him are as fabulous as those of Munchausen ; but Hereward has won for himself a place in English hearts from which historians can never dislodge him, and here in the heart of Fenland, amid the scenes made famous by the records of his daring deeds, it is useless to deny that he ever existed or was the hero men believe him to have been. If you are a doubter, there are men here ready to take you to Bourn and show you the foundations of Hereward's ancestral home; and they will tell you that the Wakes of Northamptonshire can trace their descent from the most famous Wake of all. They will point out, too, the scenes of his chief conflicts with the Normans ; and it is, in their opinion, only the most foolish of sceptics who will question the accuracy of the old monks' tales. How, they will ask, can modern investigators judge of these things when they cannot avail themselves of the chronicles to which Robert of Swaffham and other medieval writers had access? and why should we always doubt what we cannot clearly understand and prove? For my own part, I am content to accept the story of Hereward as it has been handed down to us, believing that there is more fact than fiction in the traditions upon which the old chroniclers relied and Kingsley based his fascinating romance. There must have been something wonderful and heroic about the Anglo-Saxon warrior to enshrine him so firmly in English hearts, and I do not envy the man who, after crossing the wide fens amid which the "last of the English " lay in wait for the Norman bands, can set foot on the Isle of Ely and attempt to discredit the stories which are as much a part of it as its glorious fane. Now as to Hereward. It was at Bourn, in Lincolnshire, that he first saw the light. He was the son of the lord of the manor of Bourn. In his youth he displayed so turbulent a disposition that his father was compelled to obtain from Edward the Confessor an order for his banishment. So he left England, and for some years was a soldier of fortune, content to run any risks I Now enter upon a singularly interesting section of my journey. I am approaching the last stronghold the AngloSaxons held against the conquering Normans. Before me-I get a glimpse of its towers almost as soon as I have left Littleport, though it is still some miles distant-is a glorious fane of the fens that fane which arose on the site of St. Etheldreda's Saxon church. Near it was the Saxons' Camp of Refuge. On and around this famous fen isle were done some of the bravest deeds of which England can boast. Here, Hereward the Wake performed some of his most wonderful exploits. Here, a handful of brave men, commanding a few fenmen unskilled in arms, and the fragments of a scattered force, held out against the most successful warrior of his time. Here, treachery at last effected what force and strategic skill could not accomplish, and reaped its due reward. Some historians would have us CH. XI HEREWARD THE WAKE 307 believe that Hereward is a mythical personage and that the famous exploits attributed to him are as fabulous as those of Munchausen ; but Hereward has won for himself a place in English hearts from which historians can never dislodge him, and here in the heart of Fenland, amid the scenes made famous by the records of his daring deeds, it is useless to deny that he ever existed or was the hero men believe him to have been. If you are a doubter, there are men here ready to take you to Bourn and show you the foundations of Hereward's ancestral home; and they will tell you that the Wakes of Northamptonshire can trace their descent from the most famous Wake of all. They will point out, too, the scenes of his chief conflicts with the Normans ; and it is, in their opinion, only the most foolish of sceptics who will question the accuracy of the old monks' tales. How, they will ask, can modern investigators judge of these things when they cannot avail themselves of the chronicles to which Robert of Swaffham and other mediæval writers had access? and why should we always doubt what we cannot clearly understand and prove? For my own part, I am content to accept the story of Hereward as it has been handed down to us, believing that there is more fact than fiction in the traditions upon which the old chroniclers relied and Kingsley based his fascinating romance. There must have been something wonderful and heroic about the Anglo-Saxon warrior to enshrine him so firmly in English hearts, and I do not envy the man who, after crossing the wide fens amid which the "last of the English” lay in wait for the Norman bands, can set foot on the Isle of Ely and attempt to discredit the stories which are as much a part of it as its glorious fane. Now as to Hereward. It was at Bourn, in Lincolnshire, that he first saw the light. He was the son of the lord of the manor of Bourn. In his youth he displayed so turbulent a disposition that his father was compelled to obtain from Edward the Confessor an order for his banishment. So he left England, and for some years was a soldier of fortune, content to run any risks |