Almost one thousand years ago something changed in England. A country that up till then had been ruled and divided between half a dozen Anglo-Saxon kingdoms died. A place from the imagination of Tolkien was conquered by the Normans. These French-speaking nobles replaced the Æthelflæds and Beornwulfs of their day with the less magical Henrys, Georges, and Elizabeths that still rule from London today. 

Of course, one thousand years ago, the newly established dynasty didn’t feel as secure and eternal as it eventually became. It had to grow roots, anchor itself strongly to the soil. Replacing the nobility with your own family and friends is a good first step, but the Normans knew they needed a measure more concrete, more physical.

In only a handful of decades they constructed hills at the centre of every English town, topped by imposing stone castles, hitherto unknown in England. But besides military power, the Norman rulers also wanted to instill into the subjugated Anglo-Saxons a sense of dominion more completely overwhelming and unquestionable. A rulership so complete it practically descended from God up high, of course through the strong iron fists of the king.

Stone was quarried and carted across the country, delivered to the ruins of toppled Anglo-Saxon churches, replacing some of the largest cathedrals and monasteries of Western Christendom. As the Norman masons didn’t have the expertise and experience of the French, they opted not to join the mainland’s competition for height. Instead, they filled England with some of the longest churches ever built. 

Let me draw your attention to the Cathedral of Ely, which, atop its sandstone hill, can be seen for miles around the flat marshes and moors of The Fens. My Sister and I had the lovely opportunity to visit this beautiful place with the help of our kind guide Will. Never have I encountered a person so in love with his job, and so perfectly happy to share his workplace with us.

He began his explanation with all the obvious facts, but as I had read up somewhat before our arrival, and because my Sister is a student of history, Will was soon excited to learn we were ready for quite some more intricate detail. We asked about the difference in stone, or the asymmetrical nature of the stained glass, and his eyes shone with joy as he searched his mind for all the right answers, all the minute, hidden stories he’d long ago learned and studied.

Will knew everything there was to know about the Cathedral of Ely. If he was unable to answer our question, we knew for sure no one else on planet earth would have been able to help us out. We quickly learned that there is no way to make a professional happier than when asking half a dozen semi-informed questions about his biggest obsession. 

As we followed him around, Will pointed at the octagonal tower at the centre of the building, which deceivingly has four short and four long sides, which my Sister had proudly already spotted a while earlier. He drew our attention to the lighter shade of the pinnacles, which in fact were not mediaeval at all, but recent additions, when the Victorians dreamed of finishing the work left unfinished after the devastating Black Death. Giddy like a child, this old man took us by the hand and dragged us to an ancient and often overlooked Norman doorway, where, unseen by all, a centuries old carved lion spreads his cheeks, mooning any and all visitors to Ely. 

Ask a nerd about his passion and you will make his day. Though be careful, because he might take yours!