The following are the supposed dimensions of the various buildings, &c.:—
| The church | 112 feet |
| North transept | 22 feet by 18 feet |
| Chancel | 23 feet |
| Quadrangle | 73 feet by 47 feet |
| Cloister | 76 feet by 21 feet |
| Large hall | 100 feet by 24 feet |
This priory was founded in 1113, by William de Glanville, in the reign of Henry the First, for monks of the order of Cluni, as a cell to Castleacre priory. Here the monks of the latter sent their junior brethren, when too much crowded at home, or refractory monks, to do penance for non compliance with monastic rules. Subsequently, Bartholomew de Glanville, who was Sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk, confirmed the priory of Castleacre to this priory.—The first prior was inducted to the abbey in the reign of Henry the First, and the last in the reign of Henry the Eighth.
The monks attached to this establishment appear, according to early historians, to have derived great profit from a cross, said to have been made out of that part of the Saviour’s cross to which the hands and feet were attached, particularly the part where it was most sprinkled with his blood; and Capgrave informs us, “that no fewer than thirty-nine were raised from the dead, and nineteen blind persons had their sight restored by it.”
In this priory were also preserved the “girdle for Zona, and milk of the blessed Virgin, and fragments of the crosses of St. Peter and St. Andrew.”
Such was the rage for relics in former times, that Mabillon, a Benedictine, complained that the altars were loaded with counterfeits; numerous spurious ones being every where offered to the piety and devotion of the faithful. He also observes, “that bones were often consecrated, which so far from belonging to the saints, probably never belonged to Christians!” To shew how far this fraud extended, the “girdle” of the Virgin Mary, said to have been possessed by the monastery of Broomholme, was shown to the visitors appointed by Henry the Eighth, in eleven different places.
The following “Legendary Fragment,” written by an intimate friend of the Author’s, may not be deemed inappropriate:—
Broomholme, thy ruined grandeur tells
A saddening tale of man’s decay,
It speaks how all his glories pass,
How all his relics droop away;
How all his efforts fall a prey
To Desolation’s ruthless reign,
How all the records he would trace
The hand of Time outblots again.
Thou hast looked forth for ages past,
And seen the unwearying ebb and flow
Of yonder calm and azure sea,
Glittering in summer’s golden glow;
And oh! how many a winter’s snow
Hath wrapped thee in its spotless vest,
How many a Spring with cheerful hand
Thy fair domain in beauty drest.
How oft within thy ruined fane
Has many a haughty zealot knelt,
And muttered o’er some holy prayer
His thankless heart had never felt:
Thou’st heard the groans of souls that melt
With anguish and repentance cleft,
Who, though engulphed in blood and crime,
Had yet the hope of mercy left.