Last updated on October 9th, 2024 at 03:53 pm
Crowland, Lincolnshire, is one of those little towns that Britain does so well. It is appealing, has a couple of fascinating historic attractions (a splendid half-ruined abbey church and a unique three-way medieval bridge), at least one decent tea and bun shop and was once home to a famous hermit, Guthlac. Well, really, what more do you need? But first, let’s deal with the suggestion that the place seems unsure what to call itself. According to my trusty copy of the Oxford dictionary of English Place Names, Crowland (or Croyland) was Cruwland in the 8th century, Croiland at the time of the Domesday survey (1086) and possibly means ‘estate or tract of land at the river bend.’ The Reverend Hubert Larken (1874-1964), former Rector of Croyland (or Crowland) and Archdeacon of Lincoln, wrote a guide to the abbey in the 1930s in which he claimed that the name Croyland, which he says means ‘soft or muddy land’, was in general use up to the Reformation. Larken firmly blamed successive local authorities for preferring ‘Crowland’, and Crowland is certainly the name in apparent official usage now. So, let’s stick with that; you’ll still find references to ‘Croyland’, though – especially Croyland Abbey. Let’s stick with blaming the local authorities too, just to remind them who pays their wages.
The modern local authority in this instance is South Holland District, which tells you what you need to know about the surrounding area, the Fens, or Fenlands; it is a flat, often featureless, low-lying and naturally marshy part of East England. The description ‘soft or muddy land’ fits it well. Indeed, though you wouldn’t know it now, Croyland Abbey, like its neighbour Thorney Abbey 5 miles away, was built on an island in the bleak and reedy wetlands, when the world was a very different place.
It really began with Guthlac, the hermit mentioned earlier. Guthlac was a young nobleman and warrior in the 7th century Kingdom of Mercia. Weary of nine years of fighting, at the age of 24 he entered the monastery at Repton, or Hrypadon, where he studied for two years. But he sought the secluded life of an anchorite and was brought to the edge of Deeping Fen, where the only mode of transport was the fenman’s boat. Tatwin the boatman took Guthlac and his servant to a spot close by modern Crowland, a place of mysterious ancient burial mounds today known as Anchor Church Hill, where Guthlac made his home and built a chapel. The date was 24 August, St Bartholomew’s Day, 699 AD. In 709, Guthlac was visited by Æthelbald, a claimant to the throne who had been exiled by King Coelred. The pious Guthlac offered Æthelbald wisdom and prophesied that, one day, Æthelbald would be king. Æthelbald vowed he would establish a monastery if that ever happened. On 11 April 714, Guthlac died. In 716 Æthelbald became king and, good as his promise, founded a monastery at Croyland dedicated to St Guthlac and St Bartholomew. The cult of Guthlac, centred on Croyland/Crowland, became extremely popular.
The first religious house at Crowland would have been built of wood, wattle and daub, with thatch for roofs. It was sacked by the Danes in 866, refounded in 946 as a Benedictine House by Thurketyl, Chancellor to King Eadred and later abbot, but attacked by the Danes once more in around 1010 and destroyed by fire in 1091. The abbey was rebuilt again in the early 12th century, suffered damage by an earthquake in 1113 and a further fire in 1143. After that, fortunes seemed to improve: from the 13th to the 15th centuries, the monastic buildings were extended, there were generous royal endowments, visitors to the richly decorated shrine of Guthlac and the abbey became one of the most prosperous and influential in East Anglia. A town grew up around it. In 1428, Abbot Lytlington of Crowland was licensed by King Henry VI to acquire a site to establish a hostel in Cambridge for Benedictine student-monks – which eventually became Magdalene College, one of the constituent colleges of the University of Cambridge. The end came for Crowland Abbey in 1539 with the Dissolution, when the monastic buildings were demolished, with the exception of the nave and aisles of the truncated abbey church which were taken into use as the parish church. During the Civil War, Crowland declared for the Royalist cause, was fortified with earthworks and in 1643 besieged by a Parliamentary force from nearby Spalding. The defenders deliberately placed prisoners in the line of fire but eventually the town fell, with a certain Colonel Oliver Cromwell assisting the attackers. The abbey church sustained some damage from Parliamentary artillery during the battle. In 1720, the roof of the nave fell in; the main south wall was taken down in 1744 and parish use became restricted to the north aisle only, which remains the case today.
There is no visible trace of the complex of early and later medieval monastic buildings that once occupied pretty much all of the current graveyard. Their remains lie beneath your feet as you walk round, marvelling at the size the original church must have been, and at the beauty, even in ruin, of the elegant, soaring, Norman arch at the eastern end of the nave, where the crossing would have been. Other notable external surviving features include the quatrefoil over the west door which shows scenes from St Guthlac’s life, including his arrival at the island of Crowland and him using a whip to drive off two demons. A whip was allegedly given to Guthlac by St Bartholomew to beat of the devils that tormented him, so the saint is often represented with a whip, or scourge. Accordingly, whips feature on the Abbey’s coat of arms, along with knives representing St Bartholomew, who was skinned alive.
The quatrefoil is replicated on a modern memorial cross to Guthlac nearby. There is a 14th century Guthlac’s Cross to the north of Crowland, just off the A16, inscribed HANC PETRA GUTHLAC (this is Guthlac’s stone?), thought to be one of several boundary crosses. This might also be a good moment to mention the Guthlac Roll, a highly unusual 13th century manuscript, now held in the British Library. Almost 10 feet (3 metres) long, the Guthlac Roll tells the life of the saint in eighteen circular pictures.
I digress. The west front of the abbey church, even in ruin, is still ornate, and impressive. Reminiscent of other west fronts, including that of Wells Cathedral with its hierarchy of heaven (albeit Crowland’s is more modest), it displays weathered statues of saints (including Guthlac and Bartholomew, of course) and sundry kings in seven tiers, either side of the window and doorway. One of those represented is said to be Waltheof, the Anglo-Danish Earl of Northumberland, a benefactor of Crowland who was beheaded near Winchester for rebellion against William the Conqueror in 1076. At Crowland, he was held to be a martyr; accordingly, his body was somehow retrieved from the ditch into which it had been thrown, brought to the Abbey and buried under the Chapter House, from whence it proceeded to perform miracles and attract pilgrims.
While we’re on the subject of rebels, there is a legend that Hereward the Wake, the English nobleman who also had associations with Ely and led resistance to the Normans in and around the Fens, was buried somewhere in the Abbey, next to his wife, Torfrida. It is possible. However, the only source for this is an apparently fascinating and revealing primary source, the Historia Croylandis, Croyland Chronicle or Chronicle of Ingulf, after the 11th-century abbot Ingulf who was credited with compiling the early sections. However, experts believe the early parts were written later and are unreliable; no one knows for sure what happened to Hereward the Wake.
Frankly, there are far too many fascinating stories about Crowland (or Croyland) for your average common, or garden, article. One highly unlikely tale is the legend of a secret tunnel between Crowland and Thorney abbeys, used by the monks to evade marauding Danes. Given the decidedly soggy terrain, I can’t imagine digging such a tunnel would be within the capabilities of 9th – 11th century monks; though it is probable they knew their way across the marshes better than the attackers did.
One relic from those troubled times might have survived however. The Abbey is in possession of a skull, said to be that of Abbot Theodore, struck down from behind by pillaging Danes whilst he was praying. The skull is thought to be genuine and it is apparently possible to see the evidence of the lethal blow, but it was not on display when ABAB on tour visited. One thing that did catch my eye, inside the church, was what I remember – and I may have got this wrong – being described as an immersion font, set into the wall near the entrance and dating from the Norman period. I have never seen anything quite like it. Nearby is a freestanding 13th century font, presumably acquired when the other one sprang a leak.
Which brings us neatly onto water and the three-way, or triangular, bridge. Trinity Bridge, as it is known, stands in the middle of town and must surely be unique. It is built of stone and was constructed by the monks of the Abbey between 1360 and 1390 to span the confluence of the River Welland and a tributary, Cattewater or Cat’s Water. The rivers used to run where the streets do now, but were rerouted in the 17th century. So the bridge now stands on dry ground near the market place. The stone structure replaced previous wooden bridges, the earliest mention of which dates back to the reign of King Æthelbald in 716 AD. It was also recorded in a charter of King Eadred in 943 AD. The bridge was only ever intended for pedestrian traffic and there used to be a cross at its apex, from which sermons would be preached and announcements made. It was a meeting point, they say, where world affairs and price of produce was discussed; “It’s only bridge talk” became a local saying, apparently – and still might be, for all I know. Both Henry VI and Edward IV are said to have visited, the latter embarking from a nearby wharf to travel to Fotheringhay. The out of place looking statue on it is believed to represent Christ and is generally believed to have once adorned the west front of the Abbey church. Personally, I think Crowland’s Trinity Bridge is very special. Other three-way bridges are available in the world, including a pedestrian bridge in Manchester, but most of these seem to be modern and therefore can easily be dismissed as potential rivals.
So – did someone mention tea and buns? The official ABAB team dropped into the highly originally named Old Copper Kettle (sorry, no website), a charming thatched-roof establishment in North Street close to Trinity Bridge. It is a compact place and was crowded inside, but we found a corner in a delightful little garden area at the back. The service was prompt and friendly, the refreshment perfect and I was much taken with a door propped against the garden wall. This led absolutely nowhere; or, I suppose, it could take you anywhere if you tried really hard.
I thought I remembered this piece from times past. I must have commented before – which I could check by scrolling up – oh yes there I am already commenting on the servant business – being as I am a person what grew up in Croydon a place that is named not entirely unrelatedly to the very place that is the subject of this article. I’m sure many of us yearn for the days of the 7th century. When even a hermit had a servant. I can’t help wondering whether the two devils he is reputed to have been driving off were in reality just a couple of unfortunate 7th century panhandlers. Well you did say that the local historical records were not very reliable.
Did you know that Croydon – Crogedene – means something like ‘saffron valley’? Of course you did. 🙂
err … no I didn’t know that. Some in my family refer and referred to Croyenge as a sort of auditorily unpleasant amalgam of Croydon and Penge. Captures the spirit of the place. Are you sure Cruydon does also have some relation to low squelchy sort of marshy place like the other two place names?
An interesting place, that bridge is very special.
Yes – it’s fabulous, isn’t it?
The bridge looks amazing.
It is! Thanks, CP – btw, I still cannot leave a comment on your site; I have tried several times.
What a lot of history for one small town! I am also amazed at the amount of times the church was damaged and then rebuilt or repaired, and it’s still in use today. I love that bridge!
Yes – makes you think of Kibworth in Michael Wood’s Story of England! That bridge is wonderful, I agree.
The Kibworth programmes were absolutely fascinating. I will watch any programme Michael Wood makes; such a skillful presenter and researcher.
Yes – just the right amount of enthusiasm, without becoming insincere.
That bridge is decidedly special. I’ve never seen anything like it.
It is certainly different! I loved it.
What a pretty place it is! And the bridge, quite interesting. I was surprised to hear of an earthquake in the 1100’s – we don’t tend to hear of earthquakes from back then, do we?
I was surprised when I first heard of earthquakes in England, but when we stop and think — remember Pompeii? As long as there has been an Earth it has been quaking!
Earthquakes crop up surprisingly often in tales of collapsed church towers etc – I’ve never really taken much notice of the dates, though I probably should. We still get mild quakes in the UK – about 2-300 a year – though we are some way from the nearest plate boundary in the Atlantic.
As someone born and bred in California I can only say, I hope you appreciate how lucky you are to not be near a fault line!
We do, Dorothy!
Yes, but that was a volcano. I never hear about earthquakes in the Middle or “Dark” Ages. But as you say, it must be. All very interesting!
Hi Lisa – thanks! See comment below re earthquakes.
Thanks, Mike. 🙂
Not much of an austere aesthetic then our hermit Guthlac if he traveled around with a servant. Well I suppose you do need someone to launder your hairshirts for you as a Chinese laundry would have been hard to find in 7th century Mercia. I thought all this funky spelling stuff was typical of written English until some such time as those two famous bods, er Misters Hart and Mulcaster maybe, whoever they were decided to create some grammatical and spelling rules. Until then it was pretty much a free for all how things were spelled. People would even change the spelling of words mid-way through passages as the whim took them. And why not I say. At least they never had to worry about pesky Microsoft spell checker to get in the way. I mean Lewis Carrol would have had a tough time. Happy Days. Fun read etc.
Thanks, Andy. You’re right; complicated by linguistic changes too. No, it doesn’t sound as though our friend Guthlac was one for sitting on top of a pole, or whatever.
On a blustery cold day in Utah, this post was such a delight. Thank you so much for all your wonderful work.
Thanks, Joyce; hearing words like that from the other side of the world helps make this project worthwhile.
We have a trip planned for October, which includes a few days near Lincoln. Fingers crossed that travel restrictions permit a visit…
Croyland now added to the list of sights to see. Thanks for the lovely post!
Hope all is well in your world, Mike.
Hope that works out, Helen. You’ll love the cathedral. Also including the Battle of Britain Flight, by any chance?
As always, your photos are great and create a longing to be there!
Thank you, Cynthia; we aim to please!
What a little gem you’ve come up with here Mike. I’ve never heard of the place before, but it just goes to show how many places of interest our country has – and that bridge is something else isn’t it? Great post as always.
Thanks, Malc! Yes, I loved that bridge – never seen anything like it.
By the way, I would have thought that was a piscina built into the wall, not a font. But of course I’m not an expert, just someone who remembers being shown something similar and told it was a place for the clergy to rinse their hands or the chalices, etc. used in services.
Thanks, Dorothy. No, it’s not a piscina; far too big (which you can’t see from the photo) and probably in the wrong place. I’m pretty sure it’s a font.
Hi Mike – absolutely fascinating … and I’d love to visit (sometime) … such an interesting village and area – Lincoln is not a county I know at all.
There’s an immersion font in St Mary’s Church, Lambeth Palace – where the Garden Museum is situated … but it’s not very old (over 100 years – late 1800s) – the original font was moved north I gather.
So interesting the Fens and that area around the Wash. All the best – Hilary
Thanks, Hilary. I must go to the Garden Museum sometime – it would be good to get a tour round the palace too!
when I went they were moving the books to a new library .. so that’ll be on offer as well – it is certainly a fascinating place to visit – as too the Palace gardens to have the opportunity to view. Well worth it … cheers Hilary
That does sound like a quaint little town; I’ve never seen a three-way bridge, which sounds fascinating. I’m glad there’s a tea and bun shop, but no pub??
Ah, I believe there’s several, Jim – but we had a date with a pint in Norfolk that evening!
OK – you had me concerned there for a second! 🙂
A fine insight into the easily overlooked rich history of the fenlands
Much appreciated, Derrick.
A wonderful post. I think this should be on my list to visit next time I visit my friends in Lincolnshire.
Thank you; it’s definitely worth a detour.
Such a magnificent place. Thank you, Mike. Your photos are fabulous.
Thank you, Jennie; actually, they don’t really do it justice and it was not the best weather.
That’s hard to imagine it is even better. Best to you, Mike.
Thanks for this fine article. I especially enjoyed reading about Guthlac
Thank you, Timi; yes, I found Guthlac interesting.
Wonderful shots, and well worth the visit.
Thanks William; it was certainly a great place to visit.
A gem of a place which, sadly, we’ve never visited.
Could be a future day trip, Peter.
That would be great. Sadly, health issues preclude that at the moment.
Really sorry to hear that, Peter; hope things improve soon.
Thank you Mike.
I was wondering why Croyland rang a bell and then it fell into place when you mentioned the Chronicle. It must have been a vast collection of buildings, but from your post and the photographs still worth a visit today…especially if that tea room is open!
It never ceases to amaze me, what hives of activity and how much a part of daily life the monasteries were.
It helps us appreciate what an enormous hole it left in the fabric of society when Henry VIII suddenly closed them. Suddenly all sorts of social services were gone as well as the part they had played in the economy. I have heard it claimed that one reason Anne Boleyn lost the king’s favor was because she wanted him to keep some of the hospitals, etc. open.
Now, that’s interesting. And maybe the first nice thing I’ve ever heard about that woman. Makes me suddenly wonder about her – what she was really like.
I highly recommend a visit to The Anne Boleyn Files and Tudor Society on YouTube. It is run by a lady named Claire Ridgway who knows a lot about all things Tudor, but also specializes in Anne Boleyn. You will be surprised by how different the Anne of history was from the Anne of TV miniseries and historical fiction.
I’m sure most historical figures were completely different to the way they are generally portrayed in fiction or on screen.
Their sudden removal certainly did leave a huge gap; policy not though through, or consequences ignored – I don’t know. Interesting comment about AB. I can’t imagine Anne’s views at that time being that relevant to Henry’s objectives, though I gather she disagreed with Cromwell over where the money should go. By the time most of the monasteries were dissolved, Anne had long gone.
A very interesting post Mike, I like the story of Guthlac the hermit and the triangular bridge, it looks very unusual. I didn’t know there’s a modern one in Manchester, I must search it out sometime 🙂
Thanks, Eunice. I’m a sucker for these old tales. I think the Manchester bridge is actually in Salford.
A fascinating place, indeed – and with inspiring pictures, too.
Thanks, Emma. Yes, intriguing place – I particularly liked the bridge, but the abbey has better stories.
I have often read of the Croyland Chronicle and even read bits of it. It’s good to have this detailed and well-illustrated article on the place and its history. Thanks!
Thank you, Dorothy; I confess I haven’t (knowingly) read any of the Croyland Chronicle – unless it cropped up at university and I’ve forgotten.
Another place we need to visit. To our shame we have only ever driven through Lincolnshire over 50 years ago after a weekend on the Fens in a boat. The old buildings look fascinating.
Lincolnshire is fascinating and has some amazing places to visit. We stopped at Crowland en route from Lincoln to Norfolk.
What a fascinating place. It would definelty be worth a visit.
It is – and other fascinating places nearby.