NORMAN KNIGHTS AND MONKS OF ELY.
After the accession of William the Conquerer, in 1066, some noblemen took refuge in the monastery of Ely, and continued for several years to maintain it, against his jurisdiction. When it was reduced to subjection, he placed a band of Norman knights there, to check its contumacy, and to evince his displeasure. But contrary to his expectation, a vivid friendship sprang up between them and the monks, and when at the expiration of five years they were recalled, the parting was with mutual grief. As an emblem of their continued attachment, the arms of each knight, quartered with those of his favourite monastic friend, were painted on the walls of the banqueting-hall. An engraving of these singular heraldic devices is preserved in Fuller's Church History, from whence this statement is also derived.
They came.—The plumed casque shone bright
In Ely's cloistered bower,
And darkly on each Norman knight
Did monkish visage lower;
Even 'midst the vesper's holy strain
A hatred, ill represt,
Frowned from the cowled and mitred train,
On such unwonted guest.
Years held their course—and friendship's spell,
That sternest hearts controls,
With soft, cementing influence fell
On uncongenial souls.
No more the British friar feared
The mirth of foreign lays,
Nor the gay knight the legend 'jur'd
Of Etheldreda's*[1] praise.
With helm and spear-point flashing high,
The tournay's mimic pride,
They traced, where Ouse ran murmuring by
With pure and glittering tide.
Yea, even the abbot, grave and old,
His stern rebuke would spare,
Since every Warrior rudely bold,
Knelt low at mass and prayer.
In troublous times, these martial guests
Protection might bestow,
And kindness won even steel-clad breasts
To love a stranger foe.
So, when the royal mandate bade
Forth from those walls to go,
And quit old Ely's hallowed shade,
Each warrior drooped with wo.
Silent and slow, as loth to part,
The long procession sped,
While arm in arm and heart to heart,
Each monk his soldier led.
On cope and cross and banner proud
The western sunbeam fell,
As 'neath old Hadenham's oaks they bowed
To take a last farewell.
The holy brethren, sad and grieved,
Resumed their duties meek,
While the chill tear from hearts bereaved
Went coursing down their cheek;
And when upon the escutcheoned wall
Those blended arms they viewed,
Both lonely cell and lighted hall,
The parting pang renewed.
'Mid Norman fields in bloody fray
The knights their prowess tried,
Where stout King William sought to stay
Duke Robert's rebel pride.
Yet still those Christian precepts blest,
Learned in monastic bower,
Held mastery o'er their rugged breasts,
In war's destructive hour.
And when the piercing cry "to save"
Was heard through battle strife,
Their planted creed of mercy gave
The fallen suppliant life:—
While still the merry Norman song
Rose up prolonged and clear,
Those sombre halls and cells among,
When wintry nights were drear.
For friendship hath a magic spell
The affinities to find,
That in opposing natures dwell,
And link the wayward mind:—
She bade the men of blood, no more
The sons of peace revile,
And woke in haunts of cloistered lore
The sad ascetic's smile.
- ↑ * The daughter of the king of East-Anglia, who founded this institution in 673.