But within these four rivers, at least, was neither tyranny nor
slavery. Those who took refuge in St. Guthlac's peace from cruel
lords must keep his peace toward each other, and earn their living
like honest men, safe while they did so; for between those four
rivers St. Guthlac and his abbot were the only lords, and neither
summoner, nor sheriff of the king, nor armed force of knight or earl,
could enter 'the inheritance of the Lord, the soil of St. Mary and
St. Bartholomew, the most holy sanctuary of St. Guthlac and his
monks; the minster free from worldly servitude; the special almshouse
of most illustrious kings; the sole refuge of anyone in worldly
tribulation; the perpetual abode of the saints; the possession of
religious men, specially set apart by the common council of the
realm; by reason of the frequent miracles of the holy confessor St.
Guthlac, an ever-fruitful mother of camphire in the vineyards of
Engedi; and by reason of the privileges granted by the kings, a city
of grace and safety to all who repent.'
Does not all this sound--as I said just now--like a voice from
another planet? It is all gone; and it was good and right that it
should go when it had done its work, and that the civilization of the
fen should be taken up and carried out by men like the good knight,
Richard of Rulos, who, two generations after the Conquest, marrying
Hereward's granddaughter, and becoming Lord of Deeping (the deep
meadow), thought that he could do the same work from the hall of
Bourne as the monks did from their cloisters; got permission from the
Crowland monks, for twenty marks of silver, to drain as much as he
could of the common marshes; and then shut out the Welland by strong
dykes, built cottages, marked out gardens, and tilled fields, till
'out of slough and bogs accursed, he made a garden of pleasure.
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