rapidly cleared of its treasures. Here some climbed to the great rood,
and carried off its golden ornaments. There others made their way to
the steeple, where had been hidden the gold and silver pastoral staff.
Shrines, roods, books, vestments, money, treasures of all sorts
vanished, and when Abbot Turold appeared with a party of armed Normans,
he found but the bare walls of the church and the ashes of the town,
with only a sick monk to represent the lately prosperous monastery.
Whether or not Hereward took part in this affair, history does not say.

King William had hitherto disregarded this patriot refuge, and the bold
deeds of the valiant Hereward. All England besides had submitted to his
authority, and he was too busy in the work of making a feudal kingdom of
free England to trouble himself about one small centre of insurrection.
But an event occurred that caused him to look upon Hereward with more
hostile eyes.

Among those who had early sworn fealty to him, after the defeat of
Harold at Hastings, were Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and
Northumberland. They were confirmed in the possession of their estates
and dignities, and remained faithful to William during the general
insurrection of northern England. As time went on, however, their
position became unbearable. The king failed to give them his confidence,
the courtiers envied them their wealth and titles, and maligned them to
the king. Their dignity of position was lost at the court; their safety
even was endangered; they resolved, when too late, to emulate their
braver countryman, and strike a blow for home and liberty. Edwin sought
his domain in the north, bent on insurrection. Morcar made his way to
the Isle of Ely, where he took service with his followers, and with
other noble Englishmen, under the brave Hereward, glad to find one spot
on which a man of true English blood could still set foot in freedom.