“Brother,” quoth the prior to the chamberlain, “brother, we but lose our time in this idle and angry talk with a man who was ever too prone to wrath, and too headstrong. The moments of time are precious! Let us put the question.”
“Do it thyself, oh prior,” said the chamberlain, who then sat down, looking very pale.
“It is a painful duty,” said the prior, “but I will do it.”
And having so said, the prior stood up, right before the Lord Abbat, though not without fear and trembling, and, after stammering for some time, he spoke in this strain, looking rather at the abbat’s feet than in his face:—“Thurstan, it is better that one man should suffer a temporary evil than that many men should perish! It is better that thou shouldest cease to rule over this house than that the house, and all of us in it, should be destroyed! I, the prior, and next in authority unto thee, and with the consent and advice of all the chief obedientiarii of the convent, do invite and intreat thee voluntarily to suspend thyself from all the duties of thine office!”
“Chick of the fens, art so bold as this?” cried Thurstan, “hast thrown thy respect for the canons of the church and the rules of this order of St. Benedict into the same hell-pit where thou hast thrown the rest of thy conscience? Children! brothers! ye, the ancient members of the convent, what say ye this?”
Three monks who had grown grey in the house, without ever acquiring, or wishing to acquire, any of the posts of eminence, to wit, Father Kynric, Father Elsin, and Father Celred, raised their voices and said, that such things had not been heard of before; that the prior, unmindful of his vows, and of the deep debt of gratitude he owed unto the Lord Abbat, was seeking to thrust him from his seat, that he might sit upon it himself; and that if such things were allowed there would be an end to the glory of the house of Ely, an end to all subordination and obedience, an end to the rule under which the house had flourished ever since the days of King Edgar, Rex piissimus.
Thus spoke the three ancient men; but no other monks supported them, albeit a few of the younger members of the convent whispered in each other’s ears that the prior was dealing too harsh a measure to the bountiful Lord Thurstan.
The prior, glad to address anybody rather than the Lord Abbat, turned round and spoke to Kynric, Elsin, and Celred: “Brothers,” said he, “ye are mistaken as to my meaning. I, the humblest born of this good community, wish not for higher promotion, and feel that I am all unworthy of that which I hold. I propose not a forcible deprivation, nor so much as a forcible suspension. I, in mine own name, and in the names of the sub-prior, the cellarer, the sacrist, the sub-sacrist, the chamberlain, the sub-chamberlain, the refectorarius, the precentor, and others the obedientiarii, or officials of this goodly and godly house of Ely, do only propound that Thurstan, our Lord Abbat, do, for a season and until these troubles be past, quietly and of his own free will, cease to exercise the functions of his office. Now, such a thing as this hath been heard of aforetime. Have we not a recent instance and precedent of it in our own house, in the case and conduct of Abbat Wilfric, the immediate predecessor of my Lord Thurstan? But let me tell that short tale, and let him whom it most concerneth take it for a warning and example.—The Lord Abbat Wilfric was a high-born man, as high-born as my Lord Thurstan himself, for there was royal Danish and Saxon blood in his veins. Many were the hides of land, and many the gifts he gave to this community and church: my Lord Thurstan hath not given more! Many were the years that he lived in credit and reputation, and governed the abbey with an unblemished character. Our refectory was never better supplied than in the days of Abbat Wilfric; and, albeit there were wars and troubles, and rumours of many wars in his days, our cellars were never empty, nor was the house ever obliged to eat roast and baked meats without any wheaten bread. It was a happy time for him and for us! But, in an evil hour, Guthmund, the brother of my Lord Abbat Wilfric, came unto this house with a greedy hand and a woeful story about mundane loves and betrothals—a story unmeet for monastic ears to hear. Guthmund, had paid his court to the daughter of one of the greatest noblemen of East Anglia, and had gained her love. Now Guthmund, though of so noble a family, and related to princes, was not entitled to the privileges of prime nobility, neither took he rank with them, forasmuch as that he had not in actual possession a sufficient estate, to wit, forty hides of land. This being the case, the father of the maiden forbade the troth-plight, and bade Guthmund fly his hawks in another direction, and come no more to the house. So Guthmund came with his piteous tale to his brother the Abbat Wilfric, who, thinking of temporalities when he ought to have been thinking of spiritualities, and preferring the good of a brother to the good of this house, did, without consulting with any of the convent, but in the utmost privacy, convey unto the said Guthmund sundry estates and parcels of land appurtenant to this monastery, to wit, Acholt, part of Mereham,[[234]] Livermere, Nachentune, Bedenestede, and Gerboldesham, to the end that, being possessed of them, Guthmund might hold rank with the prime nobility and renew his love-suit with a certainty of success.[[235]] Wot ye well this pernicious brother of the abbat went away not with the sad face he had brought to the abbey, but with a very joyous countenance, for he took with him from our cartularies, the title-deeds of those broad lands which had been given to the abbey by sundry pious lords. Yes! Guthmund went his way, and was soon happy with his bride and the miserable pleasures of the flesh, and the pomps and vanities of the world. But the abbat, his brother, was never happy again, for his conscience reproached him, and the secret of the foul thing which he had done was soon discovered. The brotherhood assembled in chapter, even as it is now assembled, denounced the robbery, the spoliation, and sacrilege, and asked whether it were fit that such an abbat should continue to hold rule over the house? Wilfric, not hardened in sin, but full of remorse, felt that he could no longer be, or act as Lord Abbat, and therefore went he away voluntarily from the abbey, renouncing all authority. Yea, he went his way unto Acholt, where, from much sorrow and perturbation of mind, he soon fell sick and died: and, as he died very penitent, we brought back his body for sepulture in the abbey church; and then proposed that our brother Thurstan should be our Abbat and ruler.”
“Saint Etheldreda give me patience!” said Thurstan, “Oh prior, what have I to do with this tale? Why revive the memory of the sins of a brother, and once superior and father, who died of grief for that which he had done, and which an excess of brotherly love had urged him to do? How doth this tale apply to me? what have I had to do in it or with it, save only to recover for this house the lands which my unhappy predecessor conveyed away? I have brought ye hides of land, but have given none to any of my kindred. That which hath been spent since the black day of Hastings, hath been spent for the defence of the patrimony of Saint Etheldreda, and for the service of the country. Have I not brought Guthmund to compound with me, and to agree to hold from, and under the abbey, and during his lifetime only, and with payment of dues and services to the abbey, all the lands which his brother, the Abbat Wilfric,—may his soul find pardon and rest!—alienated by that wicked conveyance? and hath not the same Guthmund given us the dues and services; and will not the lands of Acholt, Mereham, Livermere, Nachentune, Bedenestede, and Gerboldesham revert to the house so soon as he dies? Oh prior, that hast the venom of the serpent without the serpent’s cunning, if ye bring in the son of the harlot of Falaise, and if some pauper of a Norman knight get hold of these lands, the abbey will never get them back again!” [And as Thurstan said, so it happened. The demesnes were given to one Hugo de Montfort, and the church was never able to recover possession of them.][[236]]
“Brethren,” said the prior, “I put it to ye, whether we be not now in greater tribulation and want than ever we were before? Abbat Wilfric gave away five manors and a part of a sixth; but the convent was still left rich.”