At this the Earl of Warenne burst out
In furious indignation,
‘You have been turned, there is no doubt,
By Hereward’s machinations.

Why else would you spout forth like this
About our enemy?
Why praise his name, extol his business,
And his victories?

Be silent man, pray shut your mouth,
Belatedly learn wisdom,
Or else I will, without a doubt,
Make punishment my mission.’

‘You’re wrong, good sir,’ Dada replied,
I speak only the truth,
Of what I saw with my own eyes,
Under the rebel’s roof.’

Exaggeration has no place
In this my clear report,
To offer it would bring disgrace,
A promise turned to naught!

I do not seek to offend, my King,
Or to deceive you with false words,
Honesty’s the only gift I bring
Anything else would be absurd!’

The Earl of Warenne rears his head again…
(24.10.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Maxwell Andrews on Unsplash

‘Once there they asked me for my name
And the reason for my coming,
I told them for the chance of fame,
And treasure if not succumbing.

I told them of your promise King,
Reward for those who strive
How those who make the Isle would win
A gift from what they find.’

‘But tell me of their greatest men’,
The King at once replied,
‘Their names and strengths and number then
Their defensive works describe.’

‘Their cheifest men, three Earls I met,
Adwinus, Morkere and Tosti,
Two nobles, and many others, yet,
The greatest was my host.

Unrivalled amongst all men I know
In courage and conviction,
And I have travelled high and low
HIs valour is no fiction.’

Dada gives an account of those he found in Ely.
(23.10.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Div on Unsplash

Arriving home the King rejoiced
To see Dada again.
It wasn’t his gift that made him glad,
His absence had made him sore and sad,
He was one of the finest he’d ever had,
A man of honour and fame.

‘Welcome home, the finest of knights,
Prepare to tell your tale,
Pray tell us of the varied sights
You’ve seen as you’ve travailed!’

‘My Lord, I’ll gladly tell the truth
Of all I’ve seen and heard,
To all sat here beneath your roof,
Come, listen to my words.

By luck I made it to the Isle
Across our wooden path,
So many others lost meanwhile,
This march their very last.

‘Twas I and I alone that made
It to the rebels’ court,
Through swamp and water forced to wade,
And soldiers brave I fought.’

Dada begins to tell of his experiences with Hereward and the rebels.
(19.10.16)

© Ben Quant 2026

Having heard this soldier’s words
The rebels sang his praise,
They marked his bold audacity,
His valour and tenacity,
Inviting him to stay and see
And learn more of their ways.

They showed him their defences and
Their fortifications strong,
And companies of famous men,
Whose feats of arms protected them,
Regaling him with songs which lended
Glory to where they belonged.

And after this they sent him home
But first he swore an oath,
To only speak of what he saw,
The truth of what he heard no more,
Only what he perceived on their shores,
This was his solemn troth.

Impressing his captors, Dada is given a tour of the fenland defences.
(14.10.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Pelayo Arbués on Unsplash

‘Pray, Dada, tell us why you came,
With sword across the Fen?
What have we done to earn your blame,
Why come with armoured men?’

‘It is not you,’ the knight replied,
‘I see you not with ire,
The King promised the first to find
Their way across the mire,

And boldly land a blow upon
The rebels without care,
Could name a prize, some gift among
The treasures lying there.

And so I sought to prove myself
And demonstrate my courage,
By striving to achieve this wealth,
And never be discouraged.’

Dada explains his motivation for striving to Ely.
(11.10.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Image by Poliphilo, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

One knight there was who made the Isle
Leading the Norman charge,
An eminent soldier of some fame,
Taking him prisoner they asked his name,
He responded boldly showing no shame,
My captors, I am Dada.

Before Chesney there was Dada…
(10.10.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Mario Gogh on Unsplash

Once in her clutch there’s no escape
For those she woos and grasps,
The reeds entwine around their waists,
Her weeds contain them in her place,
As bubbles cease without a trace,
Held there, their lives soon pass.

And of that throng that charged ahead
Great numbers lost their lives,
Only the last, abandoning arms,
Alert to dying colleagues’ alarms,
Evaded her eternal ‘charms’,
And made it out alive.

And of the few that made it through
To reach the other side,
No hope awaited there for them,
For lurking hidden were Hereward’s men,
And ambush sprung their screams were lent
To join the drowning cries.

With the help of Mother Fen, Hereward is able to totally thwart the Conqueror’s men.
(02.10.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Jeremy Kwok on Unsplash

With gleeful mirth, our Mother Fen
Embraced with open arms,
The soldiers thrown into the air,
And dragged them screaming to her lair,
Drawing them deep into her care,
And murky, muddy, charms.

Once off the causeway, the invaders stood no chance.
(30.09.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Jeremy Kwok on Unsplash

And so he moved his army to
The village of Alrehede,
And had them bring there logs and beams,
All tied together, rows of trees,
Held up by balloons of sheep skin fleece
Positioned underneath.

And so a causeway soon was born
Across the watery peat,
Upon this men could safely march –
Lured on by greed they did too fast,
Called on by treasure from the past,
A rumoured concealed treat.

Under the beat of running feet
The bridge began to shake,
At first a creak and then a crack,
A shudder shock the Conqueror’s track,
Until it split apart, was wracked,
Hurling bodies in its wake.

(Alrehede, pronounced Al-re-heath, modern day Aldreth in Cambridgeshire)

William’s plan is pulled apart by haste and greed.
(29.09.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Jeremy Kwok on Unsplash

With fury flaming in his gut
He hatched an urgent plan,
To build a path across the marsh,
Erect a causeway strong and fast,
Across which Norman men could march,
Urged on by his angry hand.

Hearing of the rebels in Ely, William plans a way across the fen.
(23.09.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Lydia Lögga on Unsplash