Highways and Byways in Cambridge and Ely

by John William Edward Conybeare

Before we actually visit the place itself let us make ourselves familiar with the outline of its chequered history.

The city of Ely has a population approaching 8,000, and stands on the western edge of the Island of Ely, once truly an island, being an area of dry land rising from the midst of the fens, and, till their drainage, accessible only by boat or causeway. This Island, a true bit of natural terra firma, measures about eight miles by six, and lies at the southern end of a much more extensive fenland archipelago, of irregular shape, measuring approximately thirty miles by twenty, known from of old as the Isle of Ely. The waters of the Fen, which, so lately as a century ago, made this wide area an archipelago indeed, have now given place to a "boundless plain" of fertile corn-land, so rich in harvests as to be often called "The Golden Plain of England."

A twelfth century chronicler, the writer of the "Liber Eliensis," asserts that, within the first years of the seventh century A.D., Ethelbert, King of Kent, newly converted to Christianity, founded a monastery at Cratendune, about a mile south of Ely, and that Saint Augustine, the first Archbishop of Canterbury, consecrated it. But we cannot say that the authentic history of Ely begins till seventy years later, when we see an Anglo-Saxon lady founding a monastery on this rising ground in the midst of the Fens. The lady is Etheldreda, once Queen of Northumbria; her monastery is known to us as Ely. She is the daughter of Anna, King of East Anglia, who had reigned at Exning, almost within sight of Ely.

King Anna was a devout man, who himself died a hero's death, fighting for the Cross and for his country against the overwhelming onset of Penda, the heathen King of Mercia, who made it the object of his life to stamp out English Christianity. But, though Anna fell, his cause triumphed. Penda shortly died, and his work perished with him. Not so Anna's. After his death the tide of Christian progress ran the stronger; and all over England it was through members of his family that it was specially championed.

Married to the King of Northumbria, his daughter Queen Etheldreda had renounced her husband and her northern kingdom, and had returned to her native Fenland, there to found a monastery for both monks and nuns. In taking this step she had been influenced by two persons of note; by St. Hilda, her aunt, the foundress and first Abbess of Whitby, and by St. Wilfrid, Bishop of York. Hilda had in early life gained a firm hold on the heart of her niece, who had become fired with the wish to follow her example and herself to found a monastery. In spite of this resolve, of which she made no secret, she had been forced (while strongly protesting) into a nominal marriage with Egfrid, the youthful King of Northumbria. After twelve years of unhappy life, she had been induced by St. Wilfrid to quit her husband; from St. Wilfrid's hand she had received the veil, before him she had taken the vows that bound her to a monastic life. It is a strange, unnatural tale, that cannot claim our approval; but there it is, and its truth is not questioned.

Queen Etheldreda, accompanied by certain attendants had then fled southward, with her deeply wronged husband in chase. She had been sheltered on one occasion from his pursuit by a tide of unprecedented height, which protected her on a rocky hiding-place while the King passed by, all unaware that he was close to her. At length she had reached her own fenland country; and here, still following Hilda's example, she set herself to build a monastery, choosing the highest ground available. She was a well dowered lady, for her first husband, Tonbert, was a Prince of the Girvii, a Celtic tribe descended from those refugee Britons who had sought safety in the fens when all else was conquered by the English invaders two centuries earlier. This prince had bequeathed to his childless widow all his wide fenland domains; so Etheldreda had no need to seek further for an endowment for her monastery; while her brother Adwulf, now King of East Anglia, defrayed the cost of the new buildings. These ere long became the home of both monks and nuns, who lived in separate houses and met only for their common worship in the Abbey church. No Abbot was appointed, but Etheldreda herself was their Abbess, ruling both sexes alike.

It is probable that from its foundation the monastery at Ely was under the influence of the rule of St. Benedict, for St. Wilfrid during Etheldreda's life-time was a frequent resident there, and he was in close touch with St. Botolph, that most influential, though half legendary saint, who, from his hermitage at Ickenhoe in Suffolk, was introducing throughout East Anglia the rule of the monks of St. Benedict, those great preservers of civilisation, which, but for them, must in many lands have perished, when the strong hand of the Roman Empire lost its grip.

The North Triforium of the Nave, Ely.