CROWLAND ABBEY.

Farther northward in the Fenland, and over the border in Lincolnshire,

was the Benedictine abbey of "courteous Crowland," though its remains

are now scanty. It derives its name from the "Land of Crows," which in

this part is drained by the Welland River and the great Bedford Level.

On one of the many islands of firmer soil abounding in this oozy region

the monks constructed their monastery, but had little space for

cultivation, and brought their food from remoter possessions. Now,

Crowland is no longer an island, for the drainage has made fast land all

about, and the ruins have attracted a straggling village. Here is the

famous "triangular bridge," a relic of the abbey. Three streams met, and

the bridge was made to accommodate the monks, who, from whatever

direction they approached, had to cross one of them. The streams now are

conveyed underground, but the bridge remains like a stranded monster

which the tide has abandoned, and gives the children a play-place. Its

steep half-arches, meeting in the centre, are climbed by rough steps.

The dissolved abbey served as a quarry for the village, and hence on

this strange bridge and on all the houses fragments of worked stone and

of sculpture everywhere appear. It was located at the eastern end of the

village, where its ruins still stand up as a guide across the fens, seen

from afar. Most of it is in complete ruin, but the north aisle of the

nave has been sufficiently preserved to serve as the parish church of

Crowland; round about the church and the ruins extends the village

graveyard. Set up in the porch beneath the tower is a memorial for

William Hill, the sexton, who died in 1792. When forty years old he was

blinded by exposure during a snowfall, yet he lived for twenty-five

years afterwards, able to find his way everywhere and to know every

grave in the churchyard.

[Illustration: EAST END OF CROWLAND ABBEY.]

In the earlier days of Christianity the solitudes in this Fenland had

peculiar attractions for the hermits who fled from the world to embrace

an ascetic life. Thus the islands each gradually got its hermit, and the

great monasteries grew up by degrees, starting usually in the cell of

some recluse. Guthlac, who lived in the seventh century, was of the

royal House of Mercia, and voluntarily exiled himself in the Fens. This

region was then, according to popular belief, the haunt of myriads of

evil spirits, who delighted in attacking the hermits. They assaulted

Guthlac in hosts, disturbed him by strange noises, once carried him far

away to the icy regions of the North, and not seldom took the form of

crows, the easier to torment him; but his steady prayers and penance

ultimately put them to flight, and the existence of his cell became

known to the world. Ethelbald fled to Guthlac for refuge, and the hermit

predicted he would become king, which in time came to pass. Guthlac died

at Crowland, and the grateful king built a stone church there. The

buildings increased, their great treasure being of course the tomb of

the hermit, which became a source of many miracles. The Northmen in the

ninth century plundered and destroyed Crowland, but it was restored, and

in Edward the Confessor's time was one of the five religious houses

ruled by the powerful abbot of Peterborough. It became the shrine of

Waltheof, the Earl of Northampton beheaded for opposing William the

Conqueror, and Crowland was thus made a stronghold of English feeling

against the Normans, like the other monasteries of the Fens. Its fame

declined somewhat after the Conquest, though its hospitality was fully

maintained. It had little subsequent history. The abbey was garrisoned

by the Royalists, and captured by Cromwell in 1643, after which it fell

into ruin. Such has been the fate of almost all the religious houses in

the Fens, the merits of which the people in the olden time judged

according to a local rhyme which yet survives:

"Ramsay, the bounteous of gold and of fee;

Crowland, as courteous as courteous may be;

Spalding the rich, and Peterborough the proud;

Sawtrey, by the way, that poor abbaye,

Gave more alms in one day than all they."

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