The time, indeed, had come. As the now homeless abbot wandered over the abbey's lands, sick at heart, in weariness and want, the sights that met his despairing eyes were enough to make him long for death.[674] Barely a plough remained on all his broad demesnes; all provisions had been carried off; no man tilled the land. Every lord had now his castle, and every castle was a robber's nest.[675] In vain he boldly appealed to Earl Geoffrey himself, warning him to his face that he and his would remain cut off from the communion of Christians till the abbey was restored to its owners. The earl listened with impatience, and gave him a vague promise; but he kept his hold of the abbey.[676] The heart of the spoiler was hardened like that of Pharaoh of old, and not even miracles could move him to part with his precious stronghold.[677] But if Ramsey had thus suffered, what had been the fate of Ely? A bad harvest, combined with months of systematic plunder, had brought about a famine in the land. For the space of twenty or even thirty miles, neither ox nor plough was to be seen; barely could the smallest bushel of grain he bought for two hundred pence. The people, by hundreds and thousands, were perishing for want of bread, and their corpses lay unburied in the fields, a prey to beasts and to fowls of the air. Not for ages past, as it seemed to the monks, had there been such tribulation upon earth.[678] Nor were the peasants the only sufferers. Might was then right, for all classes, throughout the land;[679] the smaller gentry were themselves seized, and held, by their captors, to ransom. As they heard of distant villages in flames, as they gazed on strings of captives dragged from their ravaged homes, the words of the psalmist were adapted in the mouths of the terrified monks: "They bind the godly with chains, and the nobles with links of iron."[680] In the mad orgie of wickedness neither women nor the aged were spared. Ransom was wrung from the quivering victims by a thousand refinements of torture. In the groans of the sufferers, in the shrieks of the tortured, men beheld the fulfilment of the words of St. John the Apostle, "In those days shall men ... desire to die, and death shall flee from them."[681] Again we are tempted to ask if we have not in these very scenes the actual original from which was drawn the picture in the English Chronicle, a picture which might thus be literally true of the chronicler's own district, while not necessarily applicable, as the latest research suggests, to the whole of Stephen's realm.