piles of oak and alder driven into the fen, itself built almost entirely of timber from the Bruneswold; barns, granaries, stables, workshops, strangers' hall, fit for the boundless hospitality of Crowland; infirmary, refectory, dormitory, library, abbot's lodgings, cloisters; with the great minster towering up, a steep pile, half wood, half stone, with narrow round-headed windows, and leaden roofs; and above all the great wooden tower, from which on high-days chimed out the melody of the seven famous bells, which had not their like in English land." So minute is the detailed description of that which was such a long time off that one is almost tempted to wonder how Kingsley knew all this.
A TRIANGULAR BRIDGE Leaving our little inn we first inspected the exceedingly quaint triangular bridge that stands in the main thoroughfare—a thoroughfare without any traffic it appeared to us, nor did we see where any future traffic was to come from. This structure is stated to be positively unique. Apart from its uncommon form, it certainly has a curious appearance to-day, as the roadway below is dry, and the "three-way bridge," as it is locally called, has much the meaningless look that a ship would have stranded far inland. This quaint structure consists of three high-pitched half arches, at equal distances from each other, that meet at the top. The way over the bridge is both narrow and steep, so that manifestly it could only have been intended for pedestrians.
Much good ink has been spilt by antiquaries and archæologists anent the peculiar form of the bridge, and different theories have been put forward to
