THE ABBEYS OF
GREAT BRITAIN

THE ABBEYS OF
GREAT BRITAIN

By H. CLAIBORNE DIXON
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
LONDON: T. WERNER LAURIE

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

INTRODUCTION

IN the hope of making the following sketches of more general interest, it will be as well to review as concisely as possible the progress of Monasticism in connection with the Church from the earliest times, and to renew our acquaintance with the history of the early British Church during those years previous to the coming of St Augustine in 597—a period veiled in the minds of many people in a mist of obscurity. That such a Church did flourish we have the testimony of St Athanasius, St Jerome, St Chrysostom, and of Gildas, a British ecclesiastic of the 6th century, and the only historian up to that time. In the reign of Claudius Cæsar, who, as is well known, expelled the Druids from Britain, our Lord’s disciples were becoming known as “Christians.” To the constant communication between the chief towns of Britain and the imperial city of Rome, and to the intercourse between British prisoners and Christian Romans both in Britain and Rome—(particularly in the case of Caractacus the captive British King, who may possibly have met St Paul in Cæsar’s household)—we ascribe the introduction of Christian teaching in our land.

The earliest introduction into England of Monasticism—originally founded in the East—has been attributed to Joseph of Arimathæa, who is credited with the founding of the monastery at Glastonbury. If this somewhat mythical statement cannot claim general acceptance on account of its antiquity, it is at least an acknowledged fact that Glastonbury was one of the earliest of monastic houses established in England. Bede tells us also that from the time of King Lucius A.D. 170, until that of the Emperor Diocletian, “the Britons kept the faith in quiet peace, inviolate and entire.” At the end of the 3rd or the beginning of the 4th century, Diocletian caused a general persecution of Christians, during which St Alban, proto-martyr of Britain, attested the reality of his faith; but happier days following in the reign of Constantine the Great, the early Church again prospered. We read that British bishops were present at such notable councils as those of Arles, A.D. 314, and Nicea in A.D. 325, etc., and though in 410 the Romans left Britain never to return, the good work, despite many rebuffs, still continued. An appeal was made to the Gallican Church for help and resulted in the mission of Germanus, Bishop of Auxerre, and Lupus, Bishop of Troyes, to Britain on the decision of the Council of Troyes. Churches were built, others restored, the numbers of bishops increased, and a greater religious devotion promoted in the Celtic race which to this day has never wholly died. St Germanus founded a Bishopric in the Isle of Man in A.D. 447—Glastonbury and St Albans received a particular share of attention from him, and that religious fervour was inspired among the people which later showed itself so strongly against the heathen invaders, and which is so graphically portrayed in romantic song and story associated with King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.

During the time between the departure of the Romans and the coming of the Saxons, the conversion of Scotland and Ireland was begun by the Celts. Ninian, son of a British chief, after having a foreign education, established a community at Whithorn in Scotland; while a youth named Patrick, stolen from the Clyde by the slave traders, after being taught in the schools of Tours, Auxerre and Terins, was, in due time, consecrated Bishop of the Irish. Accompanied by twelve friends, he landed where Wicklow now stands, in 432, and, after meeting with much encouragement, established the See of Armagh. All this missionary work may thus be attributed to British initiative as it is obvious the See of Rome had little, if any, share therein. Adverse times fell upon the British Church with the arrival of the Jutes in 449, the Saxons in 477, and finally the Angles in 547. The Britons were driven westward, fearful destruction fell on the church, and Paganism reigned again in Britain. But, though scattered abroad, the Celts continued their missionary work—established cathedrals and monastic foundations in Wales, i.e. Llandaff, A.D. 500, Bangor and St David’s, 540, and St Asaph, 570, Sees which have had a continuous succession of bishops to the present day. St Finian of Clonard established communities in Ireland; St Columba landed in Scotland in 565 and founded a monastic house at Iona; and in West Wales (Cornwall and Devonshire), Christian teaching was promoted. A recent writer—F. H. Homes Dudden in Gregory the Great—says—

“The Welsh Church at this time was essentially a monastic church, its whole organisation being built up round the monasteries. Its bishops were members, usually abbots, of monastic establishments, and they seem to have been non-diocesan. Its clergy also were attached to the monasteries, built on monastic land, served by monastic clergy, and called after the saint by whom the monastery was founded.... Further, the constitution of this monastic church was essentially tribal.... Every great monastic establishment was a sort of spiritual clan, in which the abbot was chieftain, the officials represented the heads of the tribal families, and the monks were the tribesmen.... Thus, just as secular Wales consisted of groups of tribesmen clustering round powerful lay chieftains, so ecclesiastical Wales consisted of groups of tribesmen clustering round a few great monasteries founded by important saints.”

So we see that the Anglo-Saxon invasion did not destroy the life of the British Church, but rather that the offshoots in Cornwall, Ireland and Scotland were, in reality, one body, bound together by frequent intercourse. At the end of the 6th century, the figure of St Augustine compels our attention, for through his instrumentality the preaching of the Western Church—at that time reconstructed by Gregory the Great—reached Saxon England, and Benedictine influences were introduced. Augustine converted Ethelbert, King of the Jutes in Kent, and in course of time was made first Archbishop of Canterbury. But though he endeavoured to preach the Gospel further afield, he, like Paulinus, the missionary sent to Britain by Gregory, who subsequently introduced Christianity to the Angles in Northumbria, did not live to extend his work much beyond one province. Augustine met with much opposition from the British bishops on such vexed questions as the tonsure, the date on which to celebrate Easter Day and the manner of Baptism, and Laurentius his successor failed also to ingratiate himself in their favour. For half a century the two Churches—the British and the Continental—worked independently of each other, and it was not until the two collaborated that the conversion of Saxon England progressed uninterruptedly. This came about when Felix, a Burgundian monk, known as the “Apostle of East Anglia,” began to preach in England with the help of a Scottish monk named Fursey, having previously obtained official authority from Rome. After landing at Dunwich, Felix began his mission, and, gaining the attention of the people, built many churches and established schools. Fursey founded several monasteries, into one of which he persuaded Sigberct, King of East Anglia, to retire for the rest of his life—a precedent followed by various monarchs. Oswald’s recovery of the province of Northumbria from Penda, King of the Mercians, who had endeavoured to wipe out the good work of Paulinus in that kingdom, led to the second introduction of Christianity there, and this time by some monks of Iona. Aidan, one of the brethren at Iona, was sent to Oswald in 635, and after being raised to episcopal dignity founded the monastery at Lindisfarne, now called Holy Island, to the influence and work of whose inmates much of the subsequent conversion of England was due. The admittance of the provinces of Northumbria, Essex and Mercia to the Christian faith was directly owing to the work of the Lindisfarne monks. Meanwhile a monk, called Birinus, sent by Pope Honorius, had landed on the south-west coast in 634, and labouring among the people of Wessex had won favour in the sight of Cyengils, their King, who installed him as Bishop of Dorchester in 636. Sussex was the last kingdom to be influenced, its conversion being brought about by St Wilfrid, who founded a cathedral at Selsey and established many monasteries in the district.

At the end of the 7th century we find Christian teaching established throughout the land, and that chiefly through Celtic influence. The consolidation of the Church of England (now recognised as such) began, and in the following years the names of men such as Wilfrid, Cuthbert, Chad, Archibald, and especially that of Archbishop Theodore, come into prominence owing to their work, by which the steady growth of the Church was accomplished. Seventeen bishops took the place of a former nine—all of whom were drawn from the Celtic, Canterbury and East Anglian schools, and monasteries were founded in all parts of the country, such as Hexham, Ripon, Jarrow, Whitby, etc., which houses received careful regulation from Wilfrid, who, by bringing Roman order and culture into the monastic life, helped to further ecclesiastical civilisation, and promoted the love of architecture and art in the Church generally.

“The monasteries,” says Mr Wakeman when writing on the subject of Saxon monasticism, “were not all of one type, nor did they owe their origin all to one ideal. Some, like those at Winchester, Dorchester and Selsey, were chiefly adjuncts to the cathedral, and maintained the cathedral services and institutions. Some, like St Hilda’s great foundation at Whitby and those of Coldingham, Ely, Barking, and Repton, were double foundations for men and women, who lived apart in separate buildings, but used the chapel in common and owed a common obedience to the same superior. Some, like the Benedictine houses of Wilfrid at Ripon and of Benedict Biscop at Wearmouth and Jarrow, were especially devoted to learning.... Hardly second to them, in the veneration of Englishmen, came the foundation of Malmesbury among the Wilsætas, which trained the poet, the musician, and the preacher St Aldhelm to be the first Bishop of Sherborne and one of the first English men of letters.

“In this use of monasteries as the nursery of Church life we see the practical spirit which is ever characteristic of Englishmen. They were not to be hermitages, nor the abode of recluses, but centres of active usefulness as well as of spiritual growth.”

The names, too, of other writers, namely, Caedmon and the Venerable Bede, add their lustre at this period to those of Church dignitaries. Daily growing more prosperous, the Anglo-Saxon Church reached its golden age in the early part of the 8th century. But we read that—

“Intemperance, impurity and greed of gold soon became rampant. The mixed company of worldly-minded and criminal persons, whose professed penitence gained them admission to those once pure homes of Christian life, defiled the monastic abodes which sheltered them. Many still more worthless men, with no knowledge nor care for the religious life, obtained grants of land from kings on the pretence of founding monasteries, so as to have the estate made over to them and their heirs for ever, gathering together in the buildings they erected all sorts of worthless persons; much scandal and vice resulting,”—English Church History (Rev. C. A. Lane).

The Nemesis soon came in the shape of the Danish invasions which swept away practically all the monasteries in the land—Lindisfarne, Whitby, Wearmouth and Sheppey, in particular, suffering greatly from the marauders. St Edmund endured martyrdom at their hands; Peterborough, Ely, Winchester, London, Canterbury, Rochester, etc., all were pillaged, and the inhabitants massacred; while the whole country became a scene of desolation. Temporary peace was gained in the reign of Alfred the Great, King of Wessex—the Danes being permitted to settle in Northumbria, Mercia and East Anglia, and the process of reviving religious life went hand in hand with the rebuilding of the monastic houses. Cardinal Newman gives a wonderful description of this restoration of monastic life—

“Silent men were observed about the country, or discovered in the forest, digging, cleaning and building; and other silent men, not seen, were sitting in the cold cloisters tiring their eyes and keeping their attention on the stretch, while they painfully deciphered, then copied and recopied the manuscripts which they had saved. There was no one that contended or cried out, or drew attention to what was going on; but by degrees the woody swamp became a hermitage, a religious house, a farm, an abbey, a village, a seminary, a school of learning and a city. Roads and villages connected it with the abbeys and cities which had similarly grown up. And then, when these patient, meditative men had in the course of many years gained their peaceful victories, perhaps invaders came, and with fire and sword undid their slow and persevering toil in an hour. Down in the dust lay the labour and civilisation of centuries—churches, colleges, cloisters and libraries—and nothing was left to them but to begin all over again; but this they did without grudging, so promptly, cheerfully and tranquilly as if it were by some law of nature that the restoration came; and they were like the flowers and shrubs and great trees, which they reared, and which, when ill-treated, do not take vengeance or remember evil, but give forth fresh branches, leaves and blossoms, perhaps in greater profusion or with richer quality, for the very same reason that the old were rudely broken off.”

Dunstan, the great Church reformer and statesman, built and restored as many as forty monasteries; established several schools, and is supposed to have exercised jurisdiction over at least 3000 parish churches. He and Archbishop Odo reinstated the rules of St Benedict in the monasteries which had previously become relaxed. Dunstan had many dealings with the Danes. He allowed them to settle in the north but did not compel them to accept English laws and customs. Had Ethelred the Unready treated these northern people as judiciously, there had perhaps been no such dreadful invasion as that which followed the massacre of the Danes in 1002, and which, under the leadership of Sweyn, ravaged the country for years. Sweyn, after being acknowledged King of England, died in 1014, and after his death many were the battles fought between those who upheld the right of Canute, Sweyn’s son, against that of Edmund Ironside, son of Ethelred. Eventually, as is known, Canute became first “sole King of the English” and in the course of time embraced the Christian faith. He founded Bury St Edmunds Abbey and promoted much missionary work in Norway and Denmark. At the close of the 10th and the early part of the 11th century many churches were built by the converted Danes. These pre-Norman structures had more massiveness, combined with greater elegance, than those of the earlier Saxon and Romanesque period—the latter buildings being chiefly built of wood—and were copies of continental churches with which the Danes were familiar through their intercourse with the Normans. At the English restoration, the cause of Christianity gained a great supporter in that saintly king, Edward the Confessor, who upheld and furthered all Christian works in the land, and was persuaded by the monks to build and endow, at enormous expense, the abbey of Westminster. Harold, his brother-in-law, advanced the cause of the secular clergy by building Waltham as a collegiate foundation, and was buried ultimately there after the battle of Senlac. The Norman Conquest was the means of yet another abbey being founded—that of Battle, built and endowed by William I.

The Conquest did much to promote church interests and introduced a higher standard of religious thought throughout the country. Cathedrals and abbey churches were rebuilt. Norman landowners founded and endowed new monasteries, and monasticism, as a whole, was extended and reformed. New orders sprung up at the latter end of the 11th century, including the military orders, formed in response to the Crusaders and known as the Knights Templar and Knights of St John; also regular orders representing reforms of the Benedictine order. In 1077 the Cluniacs came, but being entirely dependent on the Mother house at Clugny, were regarded as foreigners and did not meet with much encouragement. On the other hand, the Cistercians, or “white monks,” in spite of their rigid rules and extreme austerity, found favour with the people and set up their first English house at Waverly in Surrey in 1129. The rules of the Carthusian monks were not popular—absolute silence, among other severities, was observed by the brethren, and only nine houses of the order were erected in this country. The Black Canons Regular of St Augustine with their branches of the Præmonstratensian and Gilbertine orders established many monasteries which flourished throughout the land. This extension of monasticism, which reached its culminating point in the middle of the 12th century, is thus vividly pictured by Mr Wakeman:—

“The monasteries sprang up all over England with a life of their own, concentrated and exclusive, but rich and vigorous, bringing into the stagnant waters of rural society a profusion of high thoughts and noble aspirations previously inconceivable. Art, worship, devotion, learning often in the highest form at that time attainable, were brought to man’s very doors. If he had in him anything which would correspond to their magnetic touch, and would submit himself to the chastening of discipline, the open portals of the nearest monastery set him upon the lowest rung of the ladder which would lead, did he choose it, to heaven.... There was hardly a district in England where monastic influence was unknown and its power unfelt.... For a century and a half after the Conquest all the best men in the English Church came from the monasteries.”

Deterioration in monastic life, however, set in at the opening of the 13th century.

“From the end of the 12th century until the Reformation the monasteries remained magnificent hostelries; their churches were splendid chapels for noble patrons; their inhabitants were bachelor country gentlemen, more polished and charitable, but little more learned or pure in life than their lay neighbours, their estates were well managed.... But with a few noble exceptions there was nothing in the system that did spiritual service. Books were multiplied, but learning declined; prayers were offered unceasingly but the efficacious energy of real devotion was not found in the homes that it had reared.”—Bishop Stubbs.

But the coming of the Dominicans and of the Franciscans later in the 13th century brought new light into the Church. These orders differed from the earlier orders in that they had at first no settled homes of their own. The Dominicans inspired the desire of learning, and becoming teachers at the Universities, trained up many of the future clergy of the Church. The Franciscans, though at first professing to despise learning and devoting themselves more to evangelistic work among the poorer classes, soon followed the example set them by the Dominicans and eventually became the most learned body of men in England, greatly extending their influence over political matters. But unfortunately, as time went on, the Friars succumbed to temptation in its various forms, and degeneration set in amongst them as it had in the older orders. The reforms of Wycliffe and his party, known as the Lollards, in the 15th century, are too familiar to need description. In 1416 the alien Priories—houses dependent on foreign monasteries, having sprung up as a result of the Norman Conquest—were suppressed, and as it was deemed politic in the following reign to use the property and money thus gained for religious purposes, Henry VI. founded Eton College and King’s College, Cambridge. University life grew and prospered in the 15th century, and the introduction of printing into England greatly furthered the advance of knowledge.

Public opinion being against monastic life in the 16th century Wolsey’s proposals for the suppression of some of the smaller monasteries were supported by the people. The Cardinal appealed to Henry VIII. saying that there were many “exile and small monasteries wherein neither God is served nor religion kept,” with the result that he was permitted to suppress forty monasteries in various counties, and particularly those of the Benedictine and early orders. The Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1536-1540, on the cause and effect of which so much controversy has arisen, and about which difficult subject it is consequently wise not to expatiate, took place in two divisions. In 1536, 375 small houses were dissolved, provision being made for the monks, either by pensioning them or by removing them to other monasteries “where good religion is observed as shall be limited by the King” (27 Henry VIII., c. 28). Unlike Wolsey, who at least used the money gained by the first suppression for the furtherance of Church work in other forms, it is not evident that Henry did anything of the kind. The Pilgrimage of Grace, a movement in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire in 1536-37 against Henry’s new laws, led to the final suppression of the monasteries, and by the end of 1538 few religious houses flourished. Many abbots surrendered their houses to the commissioners, and those who did not do so were accused of many offences—the truth of which charges was not critically examined at the time. Of the greater monasteries suppressed, 370 followed the Benedictine, Cluniac and Augustinian rules, whilst 276 belonged to the Cistercian, Carthusian and minor orders. It is said that the annual income of the greater monasteries amounted to £131,607 in the money value of that time, and the capital value of the buildings, etc., was over £400,000—which sums should be multiplied by twelve to find the modern value. Whatever the sins and faults of monastic establishments, there is no doubt their loss was greatly felt by the people generally. The distribution of the monastic estates took various forms. Henry VIII. squandered much of the ready money on personal matters, and the bulk of the real estate passed into the hands of temporal peers, among whom were Lord Russell (the founder of the Earldom of Bedford), the Duke of Norfolk, and Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk. Sir John Byron, among men of lesser note, received Newstead Abbey, and wealthy merchants, in becoming possessed of monastic estates, formed a new landed gentry, many of whose families have since been credited with misfortunes of every kind.

“They tell us that the Lord of Hosts will not avenge His own,
They tell us that He careth not for temples overthrown;
Go! look through England’s thousand vales and show me, he that may,
The Abbey lands that have not wrought their owner’s swift decay.”
Neale.

At the Parliament held in 1537, the Pope’s jurisdiction was terminated for ever in England, but it must be remembered that the

“Seven years’ Parliament did not pass a single statute, nor clause of a statute, which had for its object the annihilation of the old religious body of the land or the formation of a new religious body; and that all changes received the prior assent of the old national church, through its representative assembly of convocation.”—English Church History (Rev. C. Arthur Lane).

The Dissolution brought about the creation of six new Bishoprics—Westminster, Chester, Gloucester, Peterborough, Oxford and Bristol—the old abbey churches of which became cathedrals. Other monastic churches were made collegiate and some parochial—in the latter case the parishioners frequently purchased the church from the King’s Commissioners. There are many instances of the nave only being saved out of the general wreck, and these, to this day, form the bodies of churches so rescued from the wholesale destruction of monastic houses. It must be remembered that though these perhaps salutary changes were going on in the Church, none of the property taken from the monasteries was given to the Bishop or parochial clergy; and “in no one instance were the appropriated tithes restored to the parochial clergy” (Hallam), but, passing into laymen’s hands, have been bought and sold, willed and inherited, like other property, with the result that many parochial rectorial tithes are now in the possession of lay impropriators. During Mary’s reign a great effort was made to restore monasticism—Westminster being placed again in the hands of Benedictine monks, only to be crushed by Elizabeth, in whose reign the English Reformation was finally established by the ratification of the Thirty-Nine Articles, and the Scottish Reformation accomplished by John Knox, the reformer, to whose influence the destruction of the northern monasteries is due. Religious revival under Charles I. in like manner was swept away by the Puritans, who, following the dire example of the Tudor King, laid desecrating hands on cathedral and parish church, extending their destruction to the Crown itself. But the desire for more devotional life again asserted itself later in the 17th century and steadily grew and developed as time went on. During this period the loss of monastic life was keenly felt. In the present day a decided movement is on foot to restore monasticism—many thinkers indeed regard it as the saving and rebuilding of a Church, which, since its earliest times, has been the object of many vicissitudes.

A revival of religious life for women took place in England in 1845, when a few women banded themselves together under certain rules to devote themselves to charitable works. In 1850 Dr Pusey laid the stone of the first house for Anglican sisters since the Reformation, at St Saviour’s, Osnaburg Street. Communities increased and the outcome of Dr Pusey’s “large conceptions and constructive force of mind,” was the subsequent Oxford Movement, which, as is known, resulted in men taking once more the monastic vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience. Under the leadership of the Rev. R. Meux Benson, societies were formed, and in these days the Cowley Fathers, the Community of the Resurrection, and the Benedictine House on the Isle of Caldey are familiar names to many.

The spirit of monasticism is the same to-day as in the days of Augustine—the growing need of the Church that the few should sacrifice themselves for the many, and, by their self-effacement, further the spiritual and material work of Christ on earth. Undoubtedly the civilisation of England from the earliest times is largely due to monastic influence. The monks promoted the love of architecture and art in every form; they achieved great things in literature, philanthropy, and agriculture, and furthered the prosperity of the country by their pioneer efforts in trading in wool. Wide-spread relief was extended to the poor, their hospitality to visitors and strangers being well known.

In nearly every instance Dugdale’s Monasticon is the authority used for dates of foundation, monetary value of revenues, etc., and every care has been taken to mention the names of the authors from whose writings many valuable quotations have been drawn.

ABBEYS OF GREAT BRITAIN

PART I—NORTHERN COUNTIES

CHAPTER I
NORTHUMBERLAND: DURHAM
LINDISFARNE: HEXHAM: JARROW: FINCHALE

[LINDISFARNE (Benedictine)]

St Aidan, in the 7th century, builds a church and monastery on the island of Lindisfarne; land given to him for this purpose by Oswald, King of Northumbria; the rules of St Columba observed—875, Entirely destroyed by the Danes—1093, Priory church built on site of St Aidan’s church and monastery established by monks from Whitby—15—, Dissolved—1887, 3000 pilgrims visit the ruined abbey—1888, Excavations undertaken which result in revealing some of the foundations.

’MIDST the wild breakers and the thundering sea, an oasis in the desert of water, lies Holy Island, not far separated from the rude coast of Northumberland; and in this island rise the remains of a once stately edifice, the Abbey of Lindisfarne. It must not be supposed that the remains now standing are those of the original Celtic monastery, established by St Aidan, for, when the Danes, with irresistible force, invaded our island in 875, almost without warning, the old Abbey of Lindisfarne was utterly destroyed and the body of the saintly Cuthbert borne across the narrow waters by the monks, mid the glare of conflagration. Not one single stone of this monastery remains; the present ruins are those of a Benedictine priory, founded in the 11th century by a band of holy fathers from Whitby, who, eager to possess themselves of the land made sacred by the names of St Aidan, St Cuthbert, and those men who died at the hands of the Viking Invaders, determined to raise yet another stately building, and to make it their home.

For three and a half centuries, since the last prior, Thomas Sparke, was ejected at the bidding of Henry VIII., desolation has reigned supreme; but Lindisfarne, though small, is well preserved. It was built of strong red sandstone carried laboriously from the mainland. It was, moreover, built especially to withstand the fury of the gale and the ferocity of the invader. The insatiable greed, however, of much more modern vandals, who despoiled it of the lead from the roofs, and the roofs from the walls, until all stood bare and desolate, compassed its destruction. This, coupled with years and years of neglect and petty stealing, has brought the abbey to its present state. The mighty red walls have crumbled and fallen away, the tower lies a heap of little more than dust, the vaults have completely disappeared, but much yet remains to bear witness to the self-sacrifice and devotion of these early communities. As regards architecture, Lindisfarne is strongly in the English-Norman style. There is none of the Saxon here, as Scott would have us believe—“In Saxon strength that abbey frowned,” he says. Lindisfarne, if we except the sanctuary—which belongs to the 15th century—is perhaps the most perfect example of 11th century architecture in England. The abbey does not receive the patronage it deserves, for it is a spot with unrivalled historical and sacred memories—a place full of melancholy splendour and barren grandeur.

[HEXHAM (Augustine Canons)]

674, A religious institution founded in Hexham by St Wilfrid—821, Church destroyed by the Danes—1113, Church rebuilt and endowed by Thomas II. Archbishop of York, and dedicated to St Andrew; Augustine Canons placed there—1296, The nave burnt down—1297, Unsuccessful attempts made to restore the nave—1537, Monastery surrendered to Henry VIII.—1706, St Wilfrid’s crypt discovered under the nave of the choir—1907, The foundation stones of the new nave laid.

The town of Hexham, picturesquely situated on the southern bank of the river Tyne, 19 miles north of Newcastle, was once the centre of Border warfare and at one time a Roman station. To the west of the old market-place, one of the most interesting in England, stands the ancient abbey—a type of Early English architecture. Of the original Saxon structure the crypt alone remains, under the nave of the choir, consisting of a central and an ante-chamber, with two passages to the west and south. The Roman stones of which it is built were probably brought from the ancient Roman station of Corstopitum (3½ miles distant from Hexham). Unfortunately very little remains of the 12th century church—only, in fact, the greater part of the choir (with the exception of the Early English chapel) and both transepts. Of the conventual buildings we have still the refectory, some portions of the cloisters and the precinct gate. The greater part of the old woodwork was destroyed in the so-called restoration of the present church in 1858; but an exquisitely carved rood screen, and, on the south side of the altar, the Frith stool (supposed to have been St Wilfrid’s chair), may still be seen. Among the many monuments in the present church of special interest is a peculiar slab on which is depicted a Roman horseman, discovered beneath the south entrance in 1881.

Until the time of Henry I. the Bishop of Durham exercised ecclesiastical jurisdiction over this monastery, but in this reign it was included in the See of York. The church was then rebuilt and Thomas II. of York founded a priory of Augustine Canons. “It was found by inquisition taken in the four and twentieth reign of Edward I. that Thomas the Second, Archbishop of York, did found and endow this Priory—the lands by him given, and by many other Benefactors, were all found and set forth in particular.”

In the following century the nave of the church was destroyed by the Scots, and with the exception of some unsuccessful attempts at restoration, was not rebuilt until last year (1907), when the foundation stones of the new nave were laid on June 29th.

Hexham Abbey does not stand alone as a religious house owing its origin to the self-sacrifice and piety of a woman. Queen Etheldreda, the wife of Ecgfrid, King of Northumbria, gave land, which formed part of her dower (including the parishes of Hexham, Allendale, and St John Lee), to St Wilfrid. A monastery was founded in 674, and a church built, which, according to Richard, prior of Hexham, must have been one of the largest and most sumptuously equipped in England at that time. Hexham came, after nearly a century and a half, under the jurisdiction of York, and its church attained the dignity of a cathedral with right of sanctuary. The sanctuary extended for a mile in all directions—one boundary being in mid-stream. Discreditable stories are told of a certain Walter Biwell, chaplain to Bernard de Baliol, who made attacks on people and their property while crossing the river. Subsequently, and owing to these depredations, the boundary was placed on the northern bank of the stream. After the destruction of the cathedral by the Danes (about the year 821) and until after the Norman Conquest, only a shattered fragment of the building remained. Poverty was for years the lot of the canons regular of St Augustine, or Black Canons as they were called. In time, however, they acquired wealth, land, and many privileges, until at the close of the 13th century, Hexham was among the most important of the monastic houses in the Borderland.

The story of the surrender of Hexham to Henry VIII. is full of dramatic and romantic happenings. An appeal from Archbishop Lee to Mr Secretary Cromwell on the plea that the abbey served as a house of call and entertainment for north-bound travellers proved of no avail. Four commissioners were empowered to suppress the abbey, but before reaching Hexham they received tidings of the determination of the canons to garrison the abbey and to resist to the last. Two commissioners decided to remain behind while the two more venturous rode on to find the town full of people, many of them armed, the gates of the abbey shut, and the canons in warlike array standing on the steeple and on the leads of the church. From their point of vantage, the canons defied the commissioners to the death, but were advised by them to take counsel together. After consulting for some time in the abbey they once more refused to surrender, upon which the commissioners returned to Corbridge. The canons had a wily and unscrupulous adviser in John Heron, sometimes called Little John, a Border robber, who persuaded them to maintain their defiant position, hoping by this means to bring about a general rising in the northern counties and to profit in the consequent plunder and robbery. His infamous scheme was attended with success, and shortly afterwards the prior of Hexham and six of the canons were hanged at Tyburn, while the site of the abbey was granted to Sir Richard Carnaby, a devoted royalist, who died without an heir in 1843.

As recently as March 1907 some interesting excavations have been made at Hexham. The Reverend E. Sidney Savage, Rector of Hexham, writes to The Times giving particulars of discoveries of archæological interest made on the site chosen for a nave in the Hexham abbey church.

“Several lengths of enriched cornices have been found, with various ornaments of late Roman character, the forerunners and dictators of many of the ornamental details of a subsequent Saxon and Norman period. Two great arch stones are from a grand ornamental arch fully 20 Roman feet across, and can hardly have come from a lesser structure than the entrance gate was into the town from the main road, such as Watling Street. The upper part of a well-finished altar, a stone hypocaust pillar, and a number of smaller stones with various ornaments are amongst the architectural vestiges. A part of what was apparently a sculptured panel has a finely cut bust of a Roman Emperor, probably Severus; and a portion of a Legionary stone has the remains of two panels divided by pilasters with pediments. It is much shattered, but the sculpture is of the best class. The gem of the yield is another and important portion of the well-known and Imperial Inscription, built into the covering of the north passage of the crypt.”

[JARROW (Benedictine)]

674, Ecgfrid King of Northumbria gives land to the Holy Abbot Benedict Biscop for the building of a religious House—679, Bede becomes a student of the Monastery—685, Benedict Biscop builds the first church—793, The Monastery burnt by the Danes—1069, After restoration again burnt down by William the Conqueror—1074, Monastery rebuilt—15—, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £25, 8s. 4d.

The history of Jarrow Abbey is intimately associated with the revered name of Bede, for here this wonderful writer and thinker spent his days and accomplished his life’s great work—a work for which his fellow-countrymen have reason to be grateful to this day. Born in 672, Bede was, at the youthful age of seven years, placed by Benedict Biscop in the care of the monks at Jarrow Abbey, where, with the exception of an occasional visit to Wearmouth, he spent all the days of his useful life. His writings include commentaries on the Scriptures, translations, biographies of his contemporaries, treatises on many learned subjects, and also poetry, whilst in ecclesiastical matters he is the most reliable authority of the time. One of his scholars has given the following account of the characteristic ending of Bede’s strenuous and devout life:—

“It was the eve of Ascension Day 735 that Bede in his last hours was translating the Gospel of St John, and some scribes were writing from his dictation. They reached the words ‘What are these among so many’ when Bede felt his end approaching. ‘Write quickly,’ he said, ‘I cannot tell how soon my Master may call me hence.’ All night he lay awake in thanksgiving, and when the festival dawned he repeated his request that they should accelerate their work. ‘Master, there remains one sentence.’ ‘Write quickly,’ said Bede. ‘It is finished, master,’ they soon replied. ‘Aye, it is finished,’ he echoed. ‘Now lift me up and place me opposite my holy place where I have been accustomed to pray.’ He was placed upon the floor of his cell, bade farewell to his companions, to whom he had previously given mementoes of his affection, and, having sung the doxology, peacefully breathed his last.”

“How beautiful your presence, how benign,
Servants of God! who not a thought will share
With the vain world; who, outwardly as bare
As winter trees, yield no fallacious sign
That the firm soul is clothed with fruit divine!
Such priest, when service worthy of his care
Has called him forth to breath the common air,
Might seem a saintly image from its shrine
Descended—happy are the eyes that meet
The apparition, evil thoughts are stayed
At his approach, and low-backed necks entreat
A benediction from his voice or hand;
Whence grace, through which the heart can understand;
And vows, that bind the will in silence made.”
Primitive Saxon Clergy (Wordsworth).

Standing on a green hill near the river Slake, the grey walls of Jarrow Abbey (now the Church of St Paul) contrast markedly with the general sense of everyday work conveyed by the active life of Shields, not far distant. Past and present, ancient and modern, are brought into close proximity, suggesting to one that were it possible to infuse some of the contemplative and quiescent frame of mind of Bede and his scholars into the toilers of this progressive 20th century, less might be heard of brain fag and other attendant evils of the high pressure of modern life. Of the Abbey church, the tower and chancel alone remain and are now used as the parish church. In the vestry is a chair said to have belonged to the Venerable Bede. Many visitors (as visitors will) have chipped off pieces of the old oak, the tradition being that a splinter, if placed under a damsel’s pillow, would invoke pleasant dreams of the ever prospective husband.

Of the domestic part of the establishment, which was situated on the south side of the church, there still stand some walls and a gable end which may possibly have formed part of the refectory.

[FINCHALE (Benedictine)]

1100, Godricus de Finchale, a hermit, spends his old age in devotion in a cell in this place—1196, Hugh, Bishop of Durham, founds and endows the Abbey—1536, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £122, 15s. 3d.

Engirt by trees and surrounded by wooded heights, this abbey on “Finches Haigh” (“low flat ground”) still retains a few old grey walls on the banks of the river Wear. Following the road from Durham, the “city on a hill,” one obtains the first view of the ruins from the west—where the long lane that leads from the high road dips towards the Priory. The church is of the Early English period, and until 1665 it retained its original stone spire. On each side of the nave are four piers, alternately round and hexagonal, supporting the exquisitely moulded arches which were built up during the 14th century—John of Tickhill being prior at the time. At this period, too, the aisles of the church were completely blocked up and Decorated windows were inserted—the south aisle becoming the northern alley of the cloister. These architectural alterations, which spoiled the beauty of a church originally perfect in its proportions, were probably inspired by the constant dread of Scottish invasion to which the Border counties were so peculiarly liable. Two beautiful lancet-windows light the north transept in which is an eastern chantry—while in the south transept may be seen an altar to St Godricus the Hermit, erected in the year 1256. The east wall of the choir has fallen, but the south-east turret still holds itself aloft.

The site of Finchale Abbey has been identified by some with Pincanhale—the meeting-place of the synods of the Saxon clergy in the 8th and 9th centuries. Tradition records that even further back this spot was inhabited by men who were eventually forced to abandon the place owing to the number of venomous snakes which abounded there. In the time of Godricus, however, it was a forest, and to the finches, which among other birds may have found their home there, some credit for the name Finchale may possibly be given. The story of the peddler Godricus, of his repeated pilgrimages to the Holy Land, his determined and successful search for knowledge, and his sixty years of solitary meditation at Finchale, was written by the monk Reginald, who after constant attendance on the aged hermit during his last illness was placed in charge of the hermitage. During the thirty or forty years following the death of Godricus, his tomb at Finchale was much visited by pilgrims, attracted thither by the fame of his virtues. The hospitality and resources of the monks would have been sorely taxed during these years had it not been for the benefactions of one Henry Pudsey who granted all his belongings “To the Durham monks serving God and the Blessed Mary, and St Godric, at Finchale,” directing that the gifts should be applied, firstly, in hospitality and alms-giving and for maintaining the service of God, etc., and secondly, for the spiritual welfare of himself and of his kith and kin.

The religious community at Finchale varied in number. Early in the 15th century the number was fixed at nine, four of whom with the prior were to live there permanently and relays of four others to be sent from the mother house at Durham. These visitors made a stay of three weeks, spending every alternate day in liberty and recreation, the remaining time being devoted to choir singing and other religious duties. The office of prior was in much repute, and served in more than one instance as a stepping-stone to promotion—Priors Strehall and de Insula attaining the Bishopric of Durham. The last prior, William Bennet, surrendered the priory in 1536, and his monks were cast adrift. He, however, was made Prebendary of the fourth stall in Durham Cathedral, and took to himself a wife “as soon as he was discharged from his vow.”

CHAPTER II
LANCASHIRE

[FURNESS: WHALLEY]

THE precise date of the introduction of Christianity into Lancashire is not known, but it is an established historical fact that the Christians in Britain were persecuted at the beginning of the 4th century by the Emperor Diocletian and that the death of the first recorded martyr, St Alban, took place in 304 near the city which now bears his name. In 311 Constantine the Great was converted to Christianity and this illustrious Emperor exercised a powerful influence over the spiritual affairs of Lancashire. In 627, Edwin, King of Northumbria, became converted through the agency of his wife Ethelburga. This conversion led to war between Edwin and the King of Mercia, when the King of Northumbria was killed at the battle of Hatfield. By the end of the 7th century, Northumbria had become a Christian and powerful kingdom and the “literary centre of the Christian world in Western Europe. The whole learning of the age seemed to be summed up in a Northumbrian scholar—Baeda, the Venerable Bede later time styled him.”—Green’s History of the English People.

Between the 7th and 9th centuries several monasteries are believed to have been established in Lancashire. The invasion of the Danes during the 8th and 9th centuries disturbed the existing order of things, and for many years before and after the event the ecclesiastical history of the kingdom is almost a blank. The new occupiers of Northumbria were mostly from Denmark—a great point of difference between the conquered and the conquerors being that, whilst the settlers in Britain had to a great extent adopted the new religion and devoted themselves to peaceful pursuits, the Danes continued to worship Odin and other kindred gods, and were still a lawless set of pirates, distinguished for courage, ferocity, and hatred of Christianity. Persecution followed as a natural consequence, and the religious progress of the previous two centuries was almost wholly annihilated. Between this period and the election of Edward the Confessor, Christianity made some progress, a bishop of Danish blood actually occupying the Episcopal chair of York, in which diocese Lancashire was at that time included. The Doomsday book gives positive evidence of at least a dozen churches in Lancashire.

[FURNESS (Cistercian)]

1127, Founded by Stephen, Earl of Morton and Boulogne (afterwards King of England)—1240, The abbey receives benefactions from William de Lancaster—1539, Surrendered by Roger Pyke, last abbot. Annual revenue, £805, 16s. 5d.

To realise fully the important position Furness Abbey held, both in things spiritual and temporal, it must be remembered that the abbot of this monastery possessed not only the power of jurisdiction over the monks, but governed also the wild and rugged region of Lancashire which is divided by an arm of the Irish Sea from the rest of the country and known as Furness. Many viceregal privileges were vested in his high office, and to some extent even the military were under his orders. He held a court of criminal jurisdiction in Dalton Castle, where also he had a gaol; issued summonses by his own bailiffs; while the Sheriff with his officers was prohibited from entering the territory of the abbey under any pretext whatever. The diversity of his offices and responsibilities entailed a keeping of a numerous retinue of servants and armoured followers, a certain number of his vassals being at the service of the Crown according to the feudal system. As in the case of other monasteries, and as time went on, numerous benefactors arose. Many of the wealthy bestowed lands and further privileges on the monks—not a few in consideration of the favour of obtaining a last resting-place in the abbey. They—

“Loved the church so well and gave so largely to’t
They thought it should have canopied their bones
Till doomsday—but all things have their end.”

The evidence in a petition made in the Duchy Court in 25 Elizabeth (1582) by the tenants of Walney disclosed a curious system of barter carried on between the abbots and their tenants. In return for certain “domestical” provisions, such as calves, sheep, wheat, barley, etc., the tenants received from the abbey, “great relief, sustentation and commodities for themselves and their children.” All the tenants had weekly one ten-gallon barrel of ale, also a weekly allowance of coarse wheat bread, iron for their husbandry, gear and timber for the repair of their houses. In addition to these grants, all men who owned a plough could send two men to dine at the monastery once a week—from Martinmas to Pentecost. The children of tenants who had found the required provision were educated free, and allowed every day a dinner or a supper, so that as far back as the 6th or 7th centuries, the responsibility for feeding and educating children was considered to go hand in hand. The question at issue between the tenants and Attorney-General in the petition referred to was that while he claimed the “domestical” provisions, he refused the recompenses, alleging that these were merely bounties given by the abbots out of their benevolence and for the good of the neighbourhood. The result of the petition was in favour of the tenants.

The ruins of this once important and richly endowed religious house stand in a fertile district watered by an estuary of the sea, and are surrounded by the romantic and wild country so characteristic of the northern counties. In this Bekangs-Gill, or vale of deadly nightshade, the extensive remains of Furness, built of red sandstone, now covered by luxuriant foliage, occupy a very beautiful position. Gently rising in the distance stand the hills of Low Furness, and, overlooking the Abbey and all the surrounding district, is a commanding hill on which the monks erected a watch-tower, enabling them, if surprised by an enemy, to give warning to the neighbouring coast. The nave of the church is of nine bays, divided from its aisles by eight massive columns. The roof, as in many of these early churches, was composed of wood. A beautiful Norman door in the north transept formed the entrance to the church. This, as well as the great north window, has unfortunately been crookedly set, producing an unsymmetrical and unpleasing effect. In this same transept are three eastern chapels or chantries. The south transept has an aisle of two bays, but the north-eastern chapel—of the three corresponding with those in the north aisle—has been prolonged into a sacristy. This adjoins the south wall of the choir and is of the same length. Though the choir was begun in 1127 the church was not finished for many years. Part of the work is excellent Norman. In the middle of the 15th century the east end and the transepts were rebuilt, the whole edifice strengthened in many ways, and the western tower erected over the site of the original west front. The cloisters are on the south side of the church, and, adjoining the south transept, stands the chapter-house, a building of three compartments, above which was the scriptorium, a staircase to which still remains in the south transept. The refectory of thirteen bays is to the south of the chapter-house, the dormitory being formerly above the monks’ dining hall. Over the alley of the cloisters and joining the western angle of the cloister garth was the guest house. Besides the great guest hall (130 feet by 50 feet—built at the beginning of the 14th century) some further conventual buildings remain to the south of the refectory and fratry, and are fortunate in still retaining some of their groining. These buildings include a Decorated chapel which may perhaps have belonged to the infirmary, standing as they do at a considerable distance from the cloisters.

The suppression of Furness Abbey must have been severely felt by the inhabitants of the district, not only on account of the hospitality which emanated from it, but also because the natives looked to it for the education of their children. Two years before its final surrender, the total income equalled £5000 a year at the present monetary value. Roger Pyke, the last abbot of Furness, elevated to that dignity in 1532, surrendered the abbey to the King, April 9th, 1537.

[WHALLEY (Cistercian)]

1172, Monastery founded at Stanlawe in Cheshire, by John, Constable of Chester—1296, Gregory, Abbot of Stanlawe, removed to Whalley—1539, Dissolution of the Abbey.

From Langho Station (a quarter of an hour beyond Blackburn), in the picturesque and prosperous Lancashire uplands, a walk of two or three miles brings us to Whalley, the locality of the earliest Christian preaching in the North, for here in 627, Paulinus made his first efforts to convert the Northumbrians. The venerable church is crowded with antiquities, and will well repay a visit, even were there no Whalley Abbey alongside.

Of this stately building comparatively little now remains. The archæologist, conversant with monastic ruins, may be able to trace the various portions, but for the ordinary visitor there are only two grand old gateways, a few grey walls, some fragments of arches and broken corridors. The abbey was approached through the two strong and stately gateways still remaining. The central portion of the north-west gateway is almost entire and belongs probably to the middle of the 14th century. The north-east gateway is of much later date. The house itself stood on the banks of the Calder, and appears to have consisted of three quadrangles—the westernmost holding the cloisters and being enclosed upon the north by the wall of the church. The predominating style is that of the Transition from the Decorated to the Perpendicular. The whole area of the close contains nearly 37 statute acres and is defined by the remains of a deep trench which surrounds it. It is pleasant to see the abundance of trees now growing within the ancient boundaries, and the clumps of green fern in nooks of aisle and corridor.

The original monastery was founded at Stanlawe by John, Constable of Chester, 1172, and after almost a century was removed to Whalley, primarily owing to its unsuitable situation at Stanlawe, where not only was the soil barren, but a considerable part of it was liable to encroachments by the sea, which at spring-tide almost surrounded it—and secondarily on account of the destruction by fire of Stanlawe Abbey in 1289. Whalley became the seat then of an establishment which for two centuries and a half exercised lavish hospitality and charity, as well as paternally governing the tenants of its ample domains. The full complement of monks was 20—exclusive of the lord abbot and prior. In addition there were 90 servants. These monks lived well and entertained liberally, as may be inferred from the following table of animal food consumed:—For the abbot’s table—75 oxen, 80 sheep, 40 calves, 20 lambs and 4 pigs; for the refectory table—57 oxen, 40 sheep, 20 calves, and 10 lambs; whilst 150 quarterns of malt and 8 pipes of wine were annually consumed.

A tragic event accompanied the dissolution of Whalley Abbey. John Paslow, the last abbot, having taken part in the Pilgrimage of Grace, was executed in front of his own monastery together with one of his monks, who was hung, drawn and quartered; whilst on the following day another member of the community was hung on the gallows at Padiham.

At one time the ruins of Whalley Abbey were open to the public as freely as the church, but they are now virtually closed, owing to their abuse by a party of excursionists—the innocent, as so often the case, suffering for the guilty.

CHAPTER III
YORKSHIRE

North Riding.—ST MARY’S, YORK: BYLAND: JERVAULX: RIEVAULX: EASBY: WHITBY

East Riding.—SELBY: MEAUX

[ST MARY’S, YORK (Mitred Benedictine)]

1078, Founded by Alan of Brittany, Earl of Richmond—1088, William II. enlarges Alan’s grant, and builds a large church and dedicates it to St Mary—1137, The church burnt down—1270, Abbey begun to be rebuilt by Abbot Simon of Warwick—1539, Abbot William Dent surrenders abbey to Henry VIII. when it becomes Crown property. Annual revenue, £1550, 7s.—1827, Yorkshire Philosophical Society buys the land on which the ruins stand.

SO bound up is the history of this Benedictine abbey with that of York that a brief historical survey of the famous ancient city seems almost imperative. Legendary history attributes the founding of York to Eneas, contemporary of David, King of Israel. If this be true, as the monks certainly believed it to be, York may safely boast of an antiquity as far reaching as any other city in the world. Certain it is that when the Romans took possession of the city in 70 A.D. distinct traces of a previous settlement of Brigantes were to be found. To the Celtic name of Aberac the Romans added the Latin terminal um, calling the city Eburacum. Alcuin, a native of York who lived in the 7th century, ascribes the foundation of York to the Romans.

“Hanc, Romanus manus muris et terribus altam.”
“Fundavit primo.”
“Ut fieret ducibus secura regni.”
“Ut decus imperii terrorque hostilibus armis.”

Ptolemy, the Alexandrian geographer of the 2nd century, writes also of Eburacum as a Roman station, making special mention of its prosperity in trade. The old Brigantine town offered every facility for commerce, the river Ouse affording easy navigation to the principal towns in the north. The military position was practically impregnable in those days of hand-to-hand warfare, so we read that a very short time after their arrival the energetic Romans began to build fortifications, traces of which can still be seen in the shape of towers and walls. Hadrian visited York in 78 A.D. as did also Severus in 280. About this time the name Eburacum was changed by Greek influence to Eboracum. Until the withdrawal of Cæsar’s legions in the 5th century, York assumed all the magnificence and beauty of a Roman city, and attained to the very height of its prosperity. After the departure of the Romans comes an obscure and misty period in the history of the city. It was taken possession of by the English, and in 627, during the reign of Edwin, king of Northumbria, the building of the Minster was begun.

York at this time was known as Eoferwic. Edwin was baptized into the Christian faith through the influence of his wife Ethelburga, daughter of the Christian king of Kent, and of Paulinus, who had accompanied Ethelburga to the North.

“But, to remote Northumbria’s royal hall,
Where thoughtful Edwin, tutored in the school
Of sorrow still maintains a heathen rule,
Who comes with functions apostolical?
Mark him, of shoulders curved, and stature tall,
Black hair, and vivid eye, and meagre cheek,
His prominent features like an eagle’s beak;
A man whose aspect doth at once appal,
And strike with reverence. The monarch leans
Towards the truth this delegate propounds,
Repeatedly his own deep mind he sounds
With careful hesitation—then convenes
A synod of his councillors;—give ear,
And what a pensive sage doth utter hear!

‘Man’s life is like a sparrow, mighty king!
That, stealing in while by the fire you sit
Housed with rejoicing friends, is seen to flit
Safe from the storm, in comfort tarrying.
Here did it enter—there, on hasty wing
Flies out, and passes on from cold to cold;
But whence it came we know not, nor behold
Whither it goes. Even such that transient thing,
The human soul; not utterly unknown
While in the body lodged her warm abode;
But from what world she came, what woe or weal
On her departure waits, no tongue hath shown;
This mystery if the stranger can reveal
His be a welcome cordially bestowed!’

Prompt transformation works the novel lore;
The council closed, the priest in full career
Rides forth, an armoured man, and hurls a spear
To desecrate the fane which heretofore
He served in folly,—Woden falls and Thor
Is overturned; the mace in battle heaved
(So might they dream) till victory was achieved,
Drops, and the God himself is seen no more.
Temple and altars sink, to hide their shame
Amid oblivious weeds? O ‘come to me,
Ye heavy laden!’ such the inviting voice
Heard near fresh streams,—and thousands, who rejoice
In the new rite—a pledge of sanctity,
Shall, by regenerate life, the promise claim.”
Wordsworth.

Edwin was dispossessed of his kingdom by Penda, King of the Mercians, but the cause of Christianity was furthered by Penda’s successor, Oswy, with whose sanction Albert, Archbishop of York, rebuilt the Minster in the highest Saxon style (767-81). Between the times of the Angle and Norman invasions, York was a scene more or less of bloodshed and warfare. Immediately after the Norman invasion, the city was captured by the Danes, who changed the name once more to Jorvik. William the Conqueror, hearing of the invasion, swore terrible vengeance on the North, and after buying off the Danes swept the country with ruin and havoc—his soldiers leaving scarcely a house standing between York and the Tees. In the Doomsday book the city is written Euerwic, from which comes the modern name York.

During the reigns of King William II. and Henry I. St Leonard’s Hospital, founded some centuries before, was granted many privileges and endowments. This institution assumed greater proportions in the following reign, eventually becoming an important religious house in the North. At the time of the Dissolution it had an annual revenue of over £1600.

When the dread fiat went forth for the destruction of monastic houses, there were in York alone 128 ecclesiastical establishments, including forty-one parish churches and nine religious houses. York seemed destined to be a centre of strife, for not only in the times of the Plantagenets, Tudors, Lancastrians and Yorkists, but also in that of the Stuarts, the city was doomed to suffer perpetual strivings within its walls. A staunch Royalist stronghold during the Civil War, and though captured by Fairfax and the parliamentary troops after the battle of Marston Moor, York was able to join the national rejoicings when Charles II. came to his own again. After the Stuarts the city enjoyed comparative peace under William and Mary and the Hanoverians.

Thanks to the Yorkshire Philosophical Society, who in 1827 bought the land in which the ruins of the Abbey stand, many precious fragments of the beautiful building have been unearthed and collected from all parts of York. Stones belonging to it have been found in every part of the city, and of greater interest to many than classical remains are the many valuable shards of the mediæval past preserved together with Roman tombs and heathen altars in the hospitium—a building of peculiar appearance supposed to have been occupied by casual visitors to the abbey. Among many statues is that most exquisite fragment of Our Lady and the Holy Child. There are also carved bosses, caps, Anglo-Norman doors and lintels belonging to the ancient chapter-house, and many other perfect specimens of a fully developed art. When we realise that in the undercroft of the hospitium, amongst coal dust from the adjacent railway, lie, piled up in hopeless chaos, types of the best English architectural work, we are reminded again of the irretrievable loss to the nation from the overwhelming destruction that came upon England, and York in particular, in the ruin of the most beautiful church in the county—one boasting the highest work accomplished by Christian workmen. It has been noticed that many of the pieces of exquisite sculpture were carefully laid by the spoilers’ hands in places where they would be least likely to suffer from exposure. For this we must indeed be grateful to those men who were compelled to obey the dread mandates of Henry VIII., and who deserve all honour for their evident heartfelt appreciation of the beauty that they were forced to destroy.

From the times of the Normans until the Dissolution of the monasteries, York Abbey was held in high esteem both for its learning and its munificence. The revenues were great, and its abbot had a seat in Parliament. It is quite evident that whatever was planned and executed for the erection of the sacred building was accomplished in the best possible way. The Benedictine order was both the richest and the most learned in the country, and no trouble seems to have been spared to make the Abbey of Our Lady of York a monument of perfect beauty. The disaster that fell upon it was absolute—

“The whole vast property with the dream-like church and majestic monastery was retained by the Crown, and the fairy buildings themselves were doomed to destruction after they had been rifled of their splendid plate, their hoard of sumptuous embroidery and needlework, their stores of parchment and vellum folios and manuscripts. The vast conventual buildings, wonders of masterly architecture, were blown up and levelled with the ground; and over their site was erected a new palace for the King, the carved stones being roughly hewn down to serve as mere rubble for its walls. This palace, or rather the major part of it, was speedily destroyed after Henry died, and that which was left was joined to the abbot’s lodgings, which were largely rebuilt and made into a residence for the Lords President of the North. Under James I. changes were made, and again under Charles the Martyr. What remains has now become a school for the blind.”—Cram.

After the Dissolution the church was left to the mercy of time and chance. The inhabitants of the city were allowed to take away stones if they required them to build or repair their dwellings; and finally, in 1701, York Castle needing reparation, the authorities levied on the Abbey itself. Later, in 1705, St Olive’s Church followed this dire example, and thus this once exquisite pile of English Gothic architecture became a veritable stone quarry. George I. allowed the Minster and St Mary’s, Beverley, to take stone as they required it for their own repairs; and after this, early in the 19th century, a lime kiln was set up near the church, and the carved stones of marvellous English workmanship made commercially valuable in the form of limestone.

The history of York Abbey is heartbreaking to lovers of art—for from every standpoint St Mary’s church stood as a perfect type of English work. How few people realise that within a few hundred yards of the world-famed minster are the remains of what was architecturally a far more glorious structure, and which, though not so great in length, possessed more beauty of workmanship than the venerable minster. English Gothic was at the height of its perfection when, in 1270, Abbot Simon of Warwick rebuilt the Abbey. Norman and French influences had entirely vanished to be superseded by the light and graceful outlines of Early English architectural work. The west front is less perfect than the rest of the building, and is believed to be part of the earlier structure previous to Abbot Simon’s rebuilding. There are still to be seen the fast mouldering wall of the north nave aisle—a portion of the west end, and one tower pillar, which, alas, has been cut off to about half of its original height. The foundations of the east arm of the church are now exposed—for which we must again thank the Yorkshire Philosophical Society. There are also a few stones left of the chapter-house, and this is all there is with which we can conjure up a faint idea of what this abbey must have been in the noontide of its glory. We must be grateful that it is now in the care of loving hands, and will henceforth stand as a lasting memory of an ancient house of learning and hospitality, and also of the most perfect and consummate architecture known to the Christian world.

[BYLAND (Cistercian)]

1134, Gerald, an abbot, leaves Furness Abbey, with twelve Brothers, for Calder—1137, Depredations of the Scots compel their return to the mother abbey, where they are refused admission—The brotherhood comes under the protection of Gundreda de Albini and Roger de Mowbray—1142, Gerald journeys to Savigny, where he renounces his allegiance to Furness—dies at York, and Robert, the Hermit of Hode, succeeds him—1143, The Brotherhood removes to Byland-on-the-Moor, and remains there five years—1148, During a thirty years’ sojourn at Stocking, a church and cloister built—1177, The community remove to the present site at Byland—1322, Byland sacked by the Scots under Bruce—1540, The Abbot of Byland surrenders to Henry VIII. Annual revenue, £238, 9s. 4d.

Byland Abbey is situated south of the Hambledon Hills, a mile and a half distant from Coxwold—most picturesque of villages, with its wide street, quaint cottages, ancient alms-houses, and overlooking all, its noble church on the hilltop. A lonely road leads from Coxwold to the abbey. After following its winding route a short distance, and eventually gaining the summit of a hill, the ruins of the abbey are seen in a hollow surrounded by cottages and a little stream—the Hambledon Hills rising majestically behind. Before reaching the abbey, one notices a cottage from the side of which springs a perfect Norman arch, belonging evidently to the domestic buildings which were situated to the south of the church.

Passing under the west front—an exquisite piece of Early English architecture—one is able to take a cursory glance at the remains of proud Byland. Exclusive of the west front and the end of the south transept, nothing is to be seen except the outer walls of the northern aisle of the nave—of the aisles of the north transept—of the east aisle of the south transept—and of the aisles of the chancel. Architecturally Byland Abbey was a type of light and graceful Transition at the time when pure Early English was definitely succeeding the Norman. It was the largest Cistercian church built in accordance with one design. But, by the length of the nave, the transverse arch at the east of the choir, and the very rarely seen west aisle of the transept, it differs somewhat from the other churches of the order. Mr J. R. Walbran, in an excellent description of the abbey, gives the following dimensions:—

Total length, according to measurement on plan, 328 feet 6 inches, practically the same length as Beverley Minster (334 feet).

Close inspection ought to be given to the west front (Early English). In the lowest part of the middle portion is a trefoil-headed doorway; above this are three lancet-windows, which again are crowned by the lower half of a circular window. Mr Walbran tells us that the diameter of this window measures 26 feet and that “probably it is as large as any coeval specimen of its kind that is known.” Of the conventual buildings little remains to be seen. The great cloister is said to have exceeded in size any other belonging to houses of the Cistercian order.

Byland, in common with most of the other religious houses was founded under chequered and romantic circumstances. An abbot, Gerald by name, and twelve brothers, all protestants against monastic laxity, fled from Furness Abbey to Calder, from whence they were driven away by the depredations of the Scots. On returning to the mother abbey they found the doors shut against them, but with unabated fervour they set out for York, taking with them only their vestments, some books, and a waggon drawn by eight oxen. Philip, third abbot of Byland, gives two different accounts as to subsequent events, one story being that in their plight they bethought themselves to seek advice from Thurstan, Archbishop of York, and were sent by him to Roger de Mowbray, near Thirsk, who in turn referred them to Robertus de Alneto, a hermit living at Hode, and formerly an abbot of Whitby. The other story runs, that after much suffering and disappointment the monks found themselves, footsore and nearly naked, in the streets of Thirsk, and that here they accidentally gained the goodwill of Gundreda de Albini, mother of Roger de Mowbray, who supplied their necessities in generous fashion and sent them to the benevolent hermit of Hode. The stories differ only, it will be seen, in respect as to the manner in which the goodwill of the Mowbrays was gained and consequently the interest of Robert de Alneto. For four years the little community lived at Gundreda’s expense at Hode near Scawton, and during these years determined to renounce formal allegiance to Furness. Finding at the expiration of four years that the accommodation of Hode was insufficient for their steadily increasing numbers, and that the site was not a suitable one on which to build a permanent abbey, the monks appealed to Gundreda and Mowbray for other lands. A church and some lands at Old Byland, or Byland-on-the-Moor, were then given them by their noble patron. The new site proved, however, to be uncomfortably near Rievaulx, the monks of Rievaulx complaining that “it be unseemly that the bells of one house be heard at the other.” The monks then removed to Stocking, and during their thirty years’ sojourn there built a church and cloister. At the expiration of this time, fresh land was given them near Coxwold by Roger de Mowbray, and after some doubt and uncertainty, the erection of church and cloister was proceeded with on the land where the ruins of Byland Abbey now stand.

The Cistercians of Byland flourished greatly. Success and many gifts of houses and land came to them. Roger de Mowbray, their generous benefactor, after two journeys to Jerusalem, and after fighting and distinguishing himself in the Crusades, retreated in his old age to Byland and was buried “next his mother under a great stone.” His remains lay undisturbed till 1819, when they were disinterred and removed in a somewhat unceremonious fashion, be it said, in a box under the seat of Mr Martin Stapleton’s carriage to the church where they now rest.

Byland Abbey was sacked in 1322, during the disastrous fighting which followed Edward II.’s attempt to retrieve his losses at Bannockburn. The king found himself obliged to recross the border, the Scots declining further open warfare in their own country. The Scots followed quickly and the opposing armies met very near to Byland, a little higher up the dingle and nearer Oldstead, where the English were utterly routed. In 1540 John Leeds and his twenty-four monks surrendered the vast possessions which they held in trust, and six years later, Byland was granted to Sir William Pickering, from whom it passed to Stapleton of Wighill, and later to Myton of Swale. The ruins are neglected and uncared for, and served for years as a common stone quarry from which almost every cottage in the village contains some fragments.

[JERVAULX (Cistercian)]

1144, Akarius FitzBardolph, Lord of Ravensworth, grants land to Peter de Quiniacus for the purpose of establishing a religious house—1145, Alan, Earl of Richmond confirms the foundation. 1146—The community, not prospering, seeks counsel from the mother house of Savigny—1156, Building of abbey begun—1537, The last abbot, Adam Sedbergh, hung at Tyburn—1538, Abbey handed over to the King’s Commissioners and despoiled. Annual revenue, £234, 18s. 5d.—1544, Site granted to Matthew, Earl of Lennox, and afterwards to the Earls of Ailesbury—1807, Foundations revealed during excavations undertaken by the owner.

The ruins of St Mary’s Abbey, which lie on a tract of level meadow land on the southern bank of the river Ure, are still surrounded by the peaceful quiet so beloved by the monks of the Cistercian order. Indeed a kind of solitude immediately strikes the beholder as being the keynote of this most harmoniously beautiful spot in Jorevalle. The sombre setting of its grey walls, more ruinous than most of those of other Yorkshire abbeys, is relieved by the deep mounting of green and by the profusion of ivy with which the walls themselves are covered.

“There stood a lone and ruined fane
Midst wood and rock a deep recess
Of still and shadowy loneliness;
Long grass its pavement had o’ergrown,
Wild flower waved o’er altar stone,
The night wind rocked the tottering pile
As it swept along the roofless aisle;
For the forest boughs and the stormy sky
Were all that Minster’s canopy.”

Though of the Abbey church only the foundations are left, some portions of the other monastic buildings still remain. Thanks to the care and skill shown during the excavations undertaken by the Earl of Ailesbury in 1807, a good idea may easily be gained of the plan of a Cistercian house by any intelligent visitor to the ruins, there being, in the opinion of some, no monastic ruin presenting so complete a ground plan as Jervaulx.

The church is cruciform, measures 270 feet in length and consists of a nave of ten bays with aisles, a choir of four bays, transepts with eastern aisles of two bays, and a Lady chapel. What remains of the bases of the piers in the nave indicates that the style of this was Early English. It contains many memorials, chiefly slabs, and all in a more or less mutilated condition. A beautiful round-headed doorway at the west end of the south aisle is also an example of this period. A perfect altar, raised by three steps, still remains in the north-east angle of the north transept, on the broken slab of which are the original consecration crosses. Possibly this altar contained a sepulchrum for the reception of relics, as a stone is evidently removed from the face of it for this purpose. In the corresponding position in the south transept, which, like the north transept, is Early English work, only the base of a former raised altar remains. In front of the platform or raised part in the chancel (on which doubtless the high altar formerly stood) is a much mutilated effigy. As the shield of this memorial bears a faint indication of the FitzHugh chevron, it is supposed to commemorate a member of this ancient family, and a descendant of FitzBardolph, the founder of the abbey. The Early English chapter-house is on the south side of the sacred edifice, and is connected with the south transept by a vestry, forming nearly the remainder of the eastern side of the cloisters. It is divided from east to west by two arcades and in it are many memorial slabs. On the opposite, or west side of the cloister, is the frater or refectory of the Conversi (Lay brothers) and to the south is the frater of the monks. On the south side of the chapter-house are other domestic offices, including the undercroft of the monks’ dorter, the kitchen, furnished with three enormous fireplaces about 9 feet wide, and lastly, and most interesting of all, to the south of the culinary department, is a little Early English chapel, in which is the base of a former altar raised on two steps.

Jervaulx Abbey had its beginning towards the second half of the twelfth century, when it was represented to Peter de Quiniacus, a monk of Savigny, that the people of north-west Yorkshire enjoyed none of the privileges of religious instruction. Peter met with the usual opposition, discouragement, and difficulty—opposition and disfavour, from his superiors; difficulty, in persuading the landowners of the district to grant land suitable for a site on which to build. Eventually he persuaded Akarius FitzBardolph (said to be the illegitimate brother of Alan, Earl of Richmond) to make him and twelve other monks, a grant of land at Fors—near Askrigg. Here they built some rude, insufficient shelters for themselves, to have them before long ruthlessly torn down by the country folk, who even in those early days objected to compulsory religious education—their resistance being, however, anything but passive. Peter appealed to the mother house, receiving in reply a rebuke for his foolhardiness and perversity. After a short retreat at Byland and nothing daunted, Peter persuaded twelve monks to return with him to Fors. Eventually, John of Kingston was elected abbot and was sent to Fors

from Byland with nine monks, the general Chapter of the order having decided to give the monastery of Fors to Byland on condition that a regular religious house should be founded there. In 1156 Conan, Earl of Richmond, removed the monks to the present site of the Abbey near the river Ure. From that time onward the monks prospered. In 1537 their last abbot was hanged for participation in the Pilgrimage of Grace.

[RIEVAULX (Cistercian)]

1132, Founded by Walter Espec, Lord Helmsley—Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, sends over some monks of the Cistercian order to form the new community—1539, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £278, 10s. 2d.

Though not so extensive as Fountains, nor in such a rugged mountainous district as Bolton, this ruin on the banks of the Rye can claim far more beauty and quiet loveliness than either of these popular abbeys. Sheltered on all sides by wooded hills and standing amid pastoral fields, this wreck of ancient glory is so completely in unison with its surroundings that the whole presents a perfect picture of past and present beauty. On the west the land slopes down rapidly towards the river, forming a terrace-like hill, and beyond this again are suggestions of moorland not far away. With the exception perhaps of Whitby and Tintern, Rievaulx may be considered to rank before any other ruined abbey for actual beauty both in itself and in its romantic situation. Dorothy Wordsworth, writing of Rievaulx in 1801, says, “I went down to look at the ruins.... Thrushes were singing, cattle feeding among green-grown hillocks about the ruins. The hillocks were scattered over with grovelets of wild roses and other shrubs and covered with wild flowers. I could have stayed in this solemn quiet spot till evening without a thought of moving.”

Owing to the aforementioned sudden dip in the land, the church has the singularity of being built north and south, instead of the usual east and west, but, to avoid confusion in the general description of the building, it will be best to consider that the church is in the usual position of east to west. The church in former times consisted of a nave of nine bays, a choir of seven bays (both with aisles), and north and south transepts with eastern aisles. The nave of the church has completely disappeared and the only ruins left are those of the chancel and transepts. These are chiefly of Early English work; the portions of an earlier building of the Norman period can plainly be seen in the lower part of the north and west wall in the north transept, and in the west wall of the south transept. The junction of these two styles is not difficult to discern, for apart from the dissimilarity in style, the whiteness of the stone used in the Early English period offers a great contrast to that used in the earlier era. Both transepts have eastern aisles, triforium and clerestory. The windows are Early English. The chancel (of seven bays) has a particularly beautiful triforium and the east window consists of a double tier of triple lancets, of the upper three the middle light is higher than the other two. This abbey can boast of having had some of the earliest glass introduced into the north of England inserted into its walls in 1140, also a bell bearing the date 1167, which is now at Leek. Of the other monastic buildings, the refectory on the south of the cloisters can still be inspected with delight by those who appreciate the beautiful work of their forefathers. This Early English dining hall was lighted with lancet-windows and had the usual lectorium in the west wall, where now a recess shows its former position. There is a good deal of Norman work in the monastic offices to the east of the refectory. The cloisters were to the south of the nave, the usual position, though in the case of this abbey they would not get the warmth generally obtained from a southern exposure. To the north of the village are the almonry and infirmary.

In tracing the early history of Rievaulx we find ourselves again in the regions of romance and tragedy. Dugdale in his Monasticon gives full credence to the story of Walter Espec, the brave soldier, who led his men at the battle of the Standard, and of whom Aeldred, Abbot of Rievaulx, third in the line of thirty-three incumbents, gives the following graphic description:—“An old man and full of days, quick-witted, prudent in council, moderate in peace, circumspect in war, a true friend, and a loyal subject. His stature was passing tall ... his hair was still black, his beard long and flowing, his forehead wide and noble, his eyes large and bright, his face broad, and well featured, his voice like the sound of a trumpet setting off his natural eloquence of speech with a certain majesty of sound.” “The aforesaid Walter,” so we read in the Monasticon, “had a son, called also Walter, who having unfortunately broken his neck, by a fall from his horse, his father resolved to make Christ Heir of part of his lands, and accordingly founded three monasteries.” Rievaulx was the third of these religious houses (Kirkham and Wardon being the other two), and its establishment was entrusted to certain monks from Clairvaux sent over by St Bernard himself. The house always retained the singular distinction accruing to it, owing to the friendship of its founders with the great saint.

[EASBY (Præmonstratensian)]

1152, Founded by Roaldus, Constable of Richmond—1379-99, Richard le Scrope of Bolton endows and enlarges the original monastery—The fabric dedicated to St Agatha—1424, Abbey consecrated by the Bishop of Dromore, acting as commissary to the Archbishop of York—1535, Dissolved—The screens and wooden stalls removed to Richmond Church. Annual revenue, £111, 17s. 11d.

The ruins of St Agatha’s Monastery can best be approached, after leaving Richmond, by following the northern bank of the Swale. A little to the south of this town of striking views, and at the end of a wonderful riverside walk, stand the remnants of the former extensive Præmonstratensian abbey of Easby. They are situated on the immediate brink of the river at the foot of a richly wooded eminence; and, clothed with masses of tangled ivy, present probably a far more pleasing picture than when in former days the irregularly built monastic structure still held its reverend walls entire and unspoiled from the hands of ruthless destroyers and the ravages of time. It is evident that the fabric was exceedingly badly planned, many unaccountable irregularities being easily observable. The north aisle of the choir, itself of extraordinary length, is far exceeded in this respect by its fellow, the south aisle; the cloisters vary in length from 100 to 63 feet; the angles in the refectory are in every case more or less than a right angle, and finally, the infirmary, instead of being, as was usual, on the sunny, sheltered side of the church, is placed beyond the north transept. This last instance seems indeed a violation of ordinary commonsense. The infirmary “discloses to us one of the most complete establishments of the kind, despite its comparatively small size, which has yet been scientifically examined.” To the south of the church is the irregular cloister garth in which stands the beautiful Early English chapter-house with its large Perpendicular window. The upper storey was rebuilt in the 15th century and was used for a library and sacristy. Quite an imposing range of buildings, of which the upper part was the refectory, stands on the south side of the cloisters. The east window and crypt are both of the time of Henry III. The guest house and other domestic offices occupy the west side of the contorted quadrangle, while a remarkable Norman arch, having exquisite dog-tooth moulding, still remains to indicate the foot of the former staircase which led to the canons’ sleeping apartments. Of the Abbey church only a few fragments of the chancel and north and south transepts testify to its previous existence. These are of Transitional and Early English work. The sacred building consisted formerly of a nave with aisles; north and south transepts, having eastern aisles; and a choir without aisles. The old gate house, built in the reign of Edward III., is in a perfect state of preservation, and guards the enclosure in which the Abbey and Parish Church of St Mary’s stand. Probably the lower part is Transitional and the upper Decorated work.

The history of Easby Abbey, from the reign of Edward III. until the Dissolution, is intimately associated with that of the famous family of Scrope. Richard, son of Henry Scrope, Chancellor to Richard II., made a grant to the canons of Easby of an annual rent of £150, in return for which the house was to maintain ten canons, to provide masses for certain people, and to support twenty-two poor men at the abbey for ever. In 1535 the net revenue of Easby was given as £188, 16s. 2d. (the abbey coming consequently under the order for suppression of monasteries whose income was below £200), but owing to many deductions its value was little over £111. These deductions included some quaint provisions for furthering the spiritual as well as the material welfare of the beneficiaries. Once a week, according to Grange, there was distributed to four poor and indigent people as much meat and drink as came to the annual value of £2, 15s. 11d., this being for the benefit of the soul of John Romaine, Archdeacon of Richmond. One pauper also received every day, from the feast of All Souls to the feast of the Circumcision, a flagon of ale and one loaf of bread (the paysloffe or loaf of peace), the idea being doubtless to help some of the poor over the worst part of the winter. For this purpose the sum of £1, 6s. 8d. was disbursed yearly; £4 on the feast of St Agatha for providing the poor with corn and fish, and a similar sum in providing alms for the poor at the supper of the Lord. These charities must have been missed by the poor in the neighbourhood after the dissolution of the abbey in 1535, at which time the house and lands were leased by the Crown to Lord Scrope for an annual rent of £283, 13s. 1d. The direct male line of the Scropes came to an end with the death of Immanuel, eleventh Lord Bolton and first Earl of Sunderland, when the property passed through the marriage of a daughter to its present possessors, the Powletts.

[WHITBY (Benedictine)]

657, Founded by Oswy, King of Northumbria, as a religious house for nuns—664, Great Council meets to discuss the date of Easter, and the question of the tonsure—787, Destroyed by the Danes—1067, Re-founded by William de Percy, who elects Reinfrid (a former monk of Evesham) abbot, and endows the monastery—Benedictine monks colonise here—1250-1316, The church, from being but a humble structure, grows during these years into the noble edifice which belongs to this settlement—1540, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £437, 2s.—1763, During a violent storm the south side of the nave blown down—1830, The tower falls.

The river Esk on its way to the sea divides the town of Whitby in two,—the west cliff covered with modern houses with foreground of sands, the east cliff, crowned by its ruined abbey, which overlooks the town from a height of 250 feet. The view seawards is magnificent, and the surrounding country is varied with dark hills, sometimes wooded, but oftener purple with heather. Looking north, the ruins face the broad expanse of the German Ocean, and are flanked by the heather-clad moors of Cleveland. On the east side of the river and below the abbey, the red old-fashioned houses rise tier upon tier up the cliff, making indeed the “haven under the hill.” The old Latin saying, “Bernard loved the valley, and Benedict the hill,” is well exemplified by the position of this Abbey of Streanaeshalch or “precipitous cliff.” The ruins are reached by a climb of 199 steps from the bustling quay below, and though somewhat scanty are of exceeding beauty and consist chiefly of Early English work. The chancel, which is of this period, has seven bays and a remarkably beautiful triforium. The east end consists of three stages of lancets, the centre group of which is the tallest and most elaborate. The north aisle of the choir is practically complete, and even retains some of its vaulting, but all the south aisle has disappeared. The north transept is of three bays and is architecturally the most perfect part of the church. It has an eastern aisle, and is of the same design as the chancel, having in the north wall the same grouping of lancets, but with the addition of a rose window above. Only a single column of the south transept remains. A portion of the west front (14th century) stands, showing a central doorway and a window, evidently inserted, of Perpendicular work, but of the nave only five bays of the north aisle wall and a single column of the north arcade still remain—the south side now consisting only of piles of dislodged masonry. It is possible to trace the foundations of the cloisters and chapter-house, the former of which occupied the whole length of the nave. In the Abbey House (to the south of the ruins) there is said to be a portion of the former domestic buildings—now known as the Prior’s Kitchen.

It is a matter of great regret that such a priceless example of English architectural workmanship as this Abbey of St Hilda should be allowed to fall away before the nation’s eyes. Being in such an exposed position, on the very brink of a high cliff, the ruins will rapidly decay, and we have forebodings that before the end of this 20th century there may be very little of importance left of this building—so exceptionally invested with national, religious and legendary interest.

In fulfilment of the vow made before the battle of Winwidfield (655) by Oswy, King of Northumbria—that if victorious he would dedicate his daughter, Ethelfleda, to perpetual virginity, and would give twelve of his manor houses to be converted into monasteries—a religious house was founded at Streanaeshalch and placed under the charge of Hilda, Abbess of Hartlepool, to whom also was intrusted the child Ethelfleda. Under Hilda’s rule the famous Synod was held, to settle such vexed questions as the canonical date of Easter, and of the tonsure. Both the abbey and the town of Whitby were ruthlessly destroyed by the Danes in 787, and lay in ruins until 1067, when the restoration of the building was begun by a humble monk from Evesham, named Reinfrid. Formerly a soldier in the army of William the Conqueror, Reinfrid had been known as such by William de Percy, Lord of Whitby, who willingly granted to him and to his fraternity the site of the abbey. The history of the abbey in its early days tells of the usual vicissitudes, although early in the 12th century the community there prospered greatly under the government of Abbot William de Percy, nephew of the founder. Henry I. granted Whitby the same ecclesiastical privileges as those attached to the minsters of Ripon and Beverley. When in 1540 the last abbot, Henry Davell, surrendered to the king’s commissioners, there were eighteen monks in residence.

Turning from the historical to the legendary interest one finds a perfect wealth of story. “The Hermit of Eskdale,” “St Hilda’s Worms,” “Whitby Abbey Bells,” etc. These and other legends are still common talk among the fisher-folk of the town, to some of whom it is given, they tell us, to see at times the wraith of St Hilda at one of the highest windows of the ruins arrayed in a shroud, and to hear the abbey bells rung by invisible hands under the water, where they remain since they sank with the ship which was to take them to London after the dismantling of the abbey. The poetical and beautiful story of the divine vision and inspiration of Caedmon is one known to all lovers of English literature. Sir Walter Scott in the familiar stanzas of Marmion beginning, “Then Whitby’s nuns exulting told,” speaks of one of the many miracles by which St Hilda’s sanctity attested itself. Sea fowl in full flight are said to have paused and drooped when they reached the abbey, and to have fallen to the ground in attempting to fly over it; while the snakes, which invested the rocks, and spoken of in legend as St Hilda’s worms, were, in answer to the prayers of the holy abbess, turned to stones, supposed to be the ammonites so frequently found embedded in the cliffs.

[SELBY (Mitred Benedictine)]

1069, Founded and endowed by William the Conqueror “in honour of our Lord Jesus Christ and His Blessed Mother the Virgin Mary and St Germain, the Bishop”—Guido de Raincourt gives the town of Stamford, Northants, to the new monastery at Selby—Other benefactors include Thomas, Archbishop of York; Gilbert Tison, chief standard-bearer of England; and Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln—1189, Richard I. confirms all previous grants—1328, Edward III. ratifies the various liberties and exemptions—1540, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £729, 12s. 10d.—1618, The church made parochial—1690, The tower falls and destroys the south transept and the roof of the south-west aisle—1702, The tower rebuilt—1889-91, The choir restored—1902, The tower rebuilt under the superintendence of the Rev. A. G. Tweedie, Vicar of Selby—1906, Partially destroyed by fire.

The destruction of Selby Abbey by fire in October 1906 is a loss to the nation as well as to the county of York. The late Sir Gilbert Scott, speaking of the abbey, said the building was “of a kind which is more the property of the nation than of a single parish, and one which is of the highest value to the study of ecclesiastical architecture and to the history of art in this country.” It was the most perfectly preserved specimen of a monastic church in England, and attracted archæologists from all parts of the world. The church possessed numerous tombs and monuments of exceptional historic interest and in it could be seen every variety of Gothic church architecture. The collapse of the central tower in 1690, destroying the south transept in its fall, was the first of a series of accidents that culminated in the recent terrible fire. This conflagration, which caused such deplorable injury, broke out in the Latham chapel, in which the new organ had been erected. Though most damage was done in the vicinity of the instrument—not a vestige of which remained—the fire left its mark on every part of the building, having spread from the Latham chapel to the north transept and choir, and from thence to the nave and tower. The choir, built in the 14th century, and one of the noblest examples of Decorated work, suffered much injury, but fortunately the east window—one of the finest specimens in England of a Jesse and Doom window—escaped destruction. The firemen were told to concentrate their efforts on this lovely feature of the building, with the result that the tracery and mullions survived in a more or less perfect condition. The window, happily, had been fully insured after the restoration carried out during the vicariate of the Rev. A. G. Tweedie, who collected £8000 for the purpose, and who also rebuilt other portions of the building. The aisles of the choir were left practically intact, but the north transept lost its roof, seats, and the greater portion of its handsome window. The nave, the last part to be attacked by the relentless flames, retained its pillars and beautiful arches and in many ways has suffered less severely than the rest of the building, though the roof fell and by its fall destroyed the oak benches. The central tower (which ever since its first foundation has been a cause of anxiety on account of its insecurity) lost its roof and floors. It is a matter for congratulation that the west front only suffered comparatively little damage, for its towers were but partially burnt and the glass in the window cracked. The renovation of this ancient Benedictine church, founded by William the Conqueror, was put into the hands of Messrs J. Oldrid Scott & Son, architects, of London, who estimated that £50,000 was necessary for complete restoration. It is indeed to be hoped that this national monument, which until last year was the only monastic building in use as a parish church from Trent to Tweed, may be completely restored, and that the inhabitants of Selby may once more worship in their glorious old abbey church. The nave has already been re-roofed, and was opened on the 19th of October 1907. Of the history of the abbey very little is known, but no account of it would be complete without some reference to its connection with St Germanus. The following interesting extract is taken from Baring Gould’s Lives of the Saints:—

“About the middle of the 11th century, there was a monk of Auxerre, who had a special devotion for St Germanus, and an overwhelming desire to possess for himself a relic of this patron. One night he stole away to the sacred body, and bit off or cut off the middle finger of the right hand. No sooner had he done this, than he was seized with a horror and trembling, and began to smite his breast, with tears and lamentations, beseeching St Germanus to have mercy on him. Then, compelled by a certain necessity, he placed the finger on the altar. The horror-stricken brethren after this secured the body by walls and iron doors, and prepared an ivory case for the finger, in which it was kept over the altar instead of the body, which appears to have been there before.”

“About that time there was a brother named Benedict, to whom St Germanus appeared three times in the visions of the night, and said to him, ‘Go from thy land and from thy kindred, and from this thy father’s house, and come into a land which I shall show thee. There is a place in England, and it is called Selby, provided for my honour, predestined for the rendering of my praise, to be famous for the titles and glory of my name, situated on the bank of the river Ouse, not far distant from the city of York. There I have provided and chosen a founder for my name, and thou shalt found for thyself a cell upon the royal land, which pertains to the right of the king. And fear not to undertake alone so great and such a peregrination; for, believe me, thou shalt be comforted by my companionship, strengthened by my counsel, defended by my protection. My finger which is over the altar, thou shalt carry with thee in memory of me, and that thou mayest be able to do this securely and without fear of losing it, thou shalt with a knife make an opening in thy arm between the elbow and the shoulder, and therein place the finger. Nor do thou tremble to do this, for thou shalt neither shed blood nor suffer pain.’ Benedict disregarded the vision the first and second time, but the third time the saint reproved him so severely for his negligence, that he set off at once, commending himself to God and St Germanus, and carrying off the finger without saying a word to anyone. Great was the consternation, loud the lamentations, long and diligent the search, when it was found the finger had disappeared. Then it occurred to them to pursue Benedict, and at last they overtook him and questioned him. He altogether denied having been guilty of any sacrilege; but nevertheless they searched his clothes. And not being able to find the relic, they returned in confusion to Auxerre, while he made a prosperous journey to England with his precious treasure. But the result of his inquiries on the road was his finding himself at Salisbury instead of Selby. Here he was most honourably entertained by a citizen named Edward, who loaded him with many precious gifts, the chief of which was a gold reliquary of wonderful workmanship, in which the finger was to be kept, and where it was kept at Selby when the account was written. When, however, he began to ask where York was, and which was the river Ouse, he discovered that he had not yet reached the place of which he had been told in the vision. And being sorely troubled thereat, he was comforted by another vision of St Germanus appearing to him with a smiling countenance, and saying, ‘I said not unto thee Salisbury, but that thou shouldest ask for Selby.’ And then, says the chronicler, ‘whether in the body or whether out of the body I cannot tell; God knoweth,’ Benedict was transported to Selby, where the Saint said to him, ‘Here shall be my rest for ever, here will I dwell, for I have a delight therein.’ However, in the morning Benedict was still at Salisbury. A few days after, he was shown the way to Lymington by a priest named Theobald, and there he found a ship bound for York, in which he sailed. They had a prosperous voyage, and no sooner did they approach Selby than Benedict at once recognised it as the place he had seen in the vision. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘is the place which the Lord hath chosen; here let me land.’ And no sooner had he set his foot on the bank, than he set up the Cross under a great oak, called by the natives Strihac, about A.D. 1069, the fourth year of William the Conqueror, Here the chronicler expatiates on the beauties of the situation, the sweetness of the waters, the abundance of fish, the commodity of water transport. The very best of stone can easily be brought for building, and everything that goes to York from foreign parts, or from any port in England, has to go by Selby. And first Benedict built a little cell, where he offered continually praises to the most sacred finger, which had since his arrival made a dumb man speak. One day, a nobleman, named Hugh, passing that way, asked him what the cross meant. This led to a firm friendship between them, and they built an oratory in honour of St Germanus. Then Hugh took Benedict and introduced him to King William, who received him most kindly, and gave him one carucate of land at Selby, the wood Flaxey, the ville Rawcliffe, half a carucate in Braydon, and the fishery of Whitgift. Benedict now returned, set up workshops about his chapel, and many left their worldly employments to help in the construction of greater buildings. At this time there was in the neighbouring woods a gang of robbers, led by one Sevam, the son of Sigge. Sevam tried to break into Benedict’s cell at night; but his hand stuck to the wall, and there he remained trembling till morning, when he was only set at liberty on making a vow that he would never offend the blessed Germanus again. A nobleman’s son was cured of epilepsy by a touch of the holy finger. In the ninth year of Henry I. there was a great flood in the river Ouse, after a sudden thaw. It came on so rapidly that when the bell rang for matins there was nothing of it to be seen; but before the office was over, the cloisters were flooded. The chapel being nearer the river was in great danger of being washed away, for water continued to rise for fifteen days. But within the chapel it never prevailed further than the altar step, though it had been two cubits higher outside than in. In the time of the Abbot Helias (circ. 1150), one who sacrilegiously tried to break into the church, died of a torturing sickness in three days. A similar chastisement overtook a soldier named Foliot, who stole a horse from the churchyard. Another soldier who kidnapped a captive from the church, was afflicted with contracted limbs, and in fact no one who presumed in any way to offend St Germanus escaped his scourge. In an attack upon the ‘castle’ it was set fire to, and the chapel of the saint only saved with the greatest difficulty. All captives who had faith in St Germanus soon escaped by his help. A furrier of Pontefract found his fetters drop off, so also a little boy detained as a hostage, and a cleric in bonds for his father, and others. In the time of the Abbot Germanus (circ. 1160), one Martin, who was nearly tortured to death, was made quite well in three days. A pack-horse crossing the bridge with some of the brethren who were going out on a preaching tour, slipped into the river, and when with great labour they had pulled him out, the vestments, relics, etc., in the chests on his back were found to have been miraculously preserved from wetting. Another time they were carrying the feretory on a waggon, which ran over a child of two years old and killed it on the spot. The Lord Prior exclaimed, ‘Holy Germanus, what hast thou done? We preach that thou dost raise the dead; but now, on the contrary thou killest the living.’ They fell to prayers, the child was placed on the ground under the feretory, and was very soon as well as if nothing had happened. While on this journey they passed the night in a certain church where a recluse dwelt in a cell in the wall. To her the saint appeared in her sleep, and described his home at Selby, especially the churchyard planted with nut-trees, all which she was able to relate in the morning to one of the Selby brethren named Ralph, and by this token to prove a commission she had from St Germanus to rebuke him for dissoluteness and levity. To a hostess who entertained them, the saint appeared and rebuked her for not treating his servants with sufficient consideration. And a certain canon who had nearly died of a quartan ague was cured by drinking water in which the relics had been washed.”

[MEAUX (Cistercian)]

1136, Founded by William de Gross, Earl of Albemarle and Lord of Holderness—1150, Colonised by monks from Fountains under Abbot Adam and dedicated to St Mary—1317, Richard de Otringham gives land and money to the monastery—1349, The community visited by plague and earthquake, and its numbers greatly reduced—1360, Many valuable tracts of land belonging to the monastery are lost through the inundations of the Humber and encroachments of the sea—15—, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £299, 6s. 4d.

Meaux, three miles north of Beverley, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, was called after a town of the same name in Normandy by those Normans, who, coming over with the all-victorious Conqueror, settled in this part of the country. William de Gross, founder of the abbey, was practically the lord of all Yorkshire. Having been prevented, owing to his many years, from fulfilling a vow made in his youth to journey to Jerusalem, he built and endowed this abbey of which only a fragment of a wall remains, although traces of the foundation of the church are discernible. Some interesting relics have been discovered on the site, including tomb slabs and tessellated pavements which are now preserved in an adjacent house.

Meaux Abbey is fortunate in having a faithful and authentic record of its history from its establishment to the reign of Henry VI. This folio volume, written in Latin at the end of the 15th century, is preserved in the British Museum and records many marvellous events. Superstition or faith—who shall say which?—must have inspired narrations such as the following:—“About the first hour there appeared in the sky three circles and two suns; and a dragon of immense size was seen in St Osyth (Osey Island, Essex) sailing the air so close to the earth, that divers houses were burnt by the heat which proceeded from him.” This alarming manifestation is said to have occurred “in the tenth year of Henry II.,” while previously, in the reign of Stephen, “a certain soldier, by name Oswey, chanced to have obtained admission into St Patrick’s Purgatory; and upon his return he gave an account of the joys and pains which he had witnessed there.”

The community at Meaux Abbey was severely stricken by the plague in 1349—only ten of the thirty-two monks being left. The same year, a great earthquake “threw the monks so violently from their stalls that they all laid prostrate on the ground.” About the year 1360 the monastery lost large tracts of land, owing to the encroachments of the sea. It would seem as if Meaux escaped the depredations and attacks of marauders and enemies only to fall prey to every possible form of the ravages of nature.

CHAPTER IV
YORKSHIRE (WEST RIDING)
FOUNTAINS: BOLTON: KIRKSTALL

[FOUNTAINS (Cistercian)]

1132, Thirteen monks leave the Abbey of St Mary’s, York, and found a monastery of the Cistercian Order in Skeldale—1134, Hugh, Dean of York, bequeaths his wealth to the Brotherhood—1137, Serlo and Tosti, Canons of York, become benefactors to the abbey. In the following years kings and popes endow it with various privileges—1140, The house consumed by fire—1204, Restorations are commenced and the foundations of the church laid—1247, The church completed by Abbot John of Kent—In the 13th and 14th centuries members of the House of Percy become patrons of, and benefactors to, the abbey—1540, Abbot Bradley surrenders the abbey and receives a pension of £100 per annum. Annual revenue, £998, 6s. 8d.—After being sold by Henry VIII. to Sir Richard Gresham and passing through the hands of various families, the Abbey purchased by William Aislabie, Esq., of Studley Royal, who annexes the ruins to his own estate, both being now in the possession of the Marquis of Ripon.

“ ‘HERE man more purely lives, less oft doth fall,
More promptly rises, walks with nicer heed,
More safely rests, dies happier, is freed
Earlier from cleansing fires, and gains with-all
A brighter crown.’[1] On yon Cistercian wall
That confident assurance may be read;
And, to like shelter from the world have fled
Increasing multitudes. The potent call
Doubtless shall cheat full oft the heart’s desires;
Yet, while the rugged age on pliant knee
Vows to rapt fancy humble fealty,
A gentle life spreads round the holy spires;
Where’er they rise, the sylvan waste retires,
And aëry harvests crown the fertile lea.
Cistercian Monastery (Wordsworth).

Fountains Abbey is one of the earliest and most important of the houses belonging to the Cistercian order, an order which was under the immediate control of the Bishop of Rome, and which was introduced into England in the year 1129. After that time very few, if any, houses of the Benedictine order were founded in this country. The rules of the Benedictine and Cluniac orders having apparently become somewhat relaxed, it was found necessary to form new orders in which stricter observance should be paid to the original purpose of such religious houses—to personal self-denial for the good of others—to the fulfilment of the monastic vows of poverty, chastity and obedience—while less attention should be given to the attainment of worldly prosperity. These new orders—the Cistercian and Carthusian—settled in thinly populated districts, whereas the Benedictine and Cluniac orders built their houses as a rule in the vicinity of some town or trading centre. Robert de Molême is supposed to have founded at Citeaux the chief monastery of the Cistercian Order, although its popularity dates from the 12th century when St Bernard joined the community. The wave of sanctity which led Robert de Molême to Citeaux spread till it reached York and the Abbey of St Mary—then under the rule of St Benedict. Seven monks, wearied of the relaxed rules of the house, banded themselves together to observe stricter rules, eventually taking council with their prior, Richard, whom they found to be in sympathy with their aims. Violent discussions followed between the abbot and the prior and his associates, till in 1132 Prior Richard appealed to Thurstan, Archbishop of York. Thurstan was refused admittance to the abbey, while the monks prepared to drag Richard and his companions to the monastery cells. The archbishop came to their rescue, and with his help the thirteen brethren freed themselves for ever from their self-indulgent home. They were given land in the valley of the Skell—then a wilderness of rocks and trees—and could only depend upon chance means of subsistence. Their sole shelter was seven yew trees—some of which still remain—but after a while they began to build a hut under an elm tree, which had at one time furnished not only their shelter but their food. Far away from any inhabited place, and dependent on the bounty of the archbishop, they began to suffer great privations. A famine spread over England and the monks had to live chiefly on herbs and elm leaves, reserving any better food for the workmen who were finishing the building of their house. During the absence of Richard at Clairvaux—whence he had gone to ask St Bernard for work and shelter for his monks—Hugh, Dean of York, fell sick and ordered himself to be taken to Fountains, carrying with him money, valuables, and many books. When the abbot returned from France, he and his monks resolved to remain in Skeldale, where they were joined in course of time by Serlo and Tosti, Canons of York, whose wealth greatly enriched the abbey. Within three years of their arrival beside the Skell, the monks of Fountains had acquired land and riches.

Though the Cistercian abbeys do not contain so much rich moulding, nor in any way approach the intricate workmanship of the great Benedictine abbeys, the austere dignity and simple grandeur make the Cistercians’ work every whit as imposing and beautiful as that of the earlier orders. What ruins of a Benedictine house can compare with the grace of those of Tintern, Whitby, Newstead, and Fountains Abbeys, built by the Cistercian or “White monks”?

The cultivated surroundings of Fountains Abbey help in great measure to place it in the foremost rank of the many beautiful ruins in England. Surrounded by thickly-wooded trees, from which many delightful and unexpected glimpses of the ruins may be descried, the Abbey of St Mary’s stands in grounds of which words fail to describe the enchantment and many beauties. A level piece of land, watered by the river Skell, extends immediately beyond the ruins, but in all directions, green slopes, and gentle, leafy eminences meet the eye, while in the far distance the Yorkshire wolds form a dark and effective background to the grey stone of the picturesque ruins. The skeleton of the lofty northern tower gives a sense of completeness to the ruins, and helps to create the illusion, when viewing the abbey from a distance, that the edifice has suffered but little from the ravages of time. On closer inspection it will be seen that sufficient is yet in good preservation to show the spaciousness and loftiness of the various apartments, and the admirable proportions of the abbey church. This imposing edifice measures 385 feet by 67 feet, and is composed of a nave of eleven bays, divided from its aisles by massive columns of Norman Transitional work. Above is a clerestory formed of round-headed lights resting on the string course. A Galilee of the same period stood at the west end of the nave, and in it were interred, as at Canterbury, the bodies of the primates. The transepts had each two chapels, and adjoining the north wing, a tower of four stages was built in the 15th and 16th centuries by Abbot Marmaduke Huby. John of York built the aisleless choir in the 15th century. Beyond it is the magnificent Lady chapel, 150 feet in length, in which Abbot John of Kent placed nine altars as in Durham Cathedral. The great east window, now a blank, is of Perpendicular work. In addition to the church are many most interesting buildings. Foremost among these are the celebrated cloisters on the western side of the cloister garth. The vaulting here is still intact, and covers a nave of two aisles, divided by a range of columns. The almost subterranean gloom is lighted by several lancet-windows, themselves enveloped in thick foliage. The cloister garth is 126 feet square, the church being on the north side, the chapter-house on the east, the refectory, the frater house, kitchen, and other offices opening on to the south side, while the cloisters, which span the river here, are on the west side. Three tiers of seats still remain in the chapter-house, which was built in rectangular form by Abbot Fastolph in 1153, and formerly divided into aisles by ten marble columns. The Early English refectory is an apartment of noble dimensions, consisting of a nave and two aisles. On the northern side, the reading gallery from which the Scriptures were read to the monks during their meals can still be seen. To the east of this is the vaulted frater house (Transitional Norman), and beyond again is the staircase which led to the “Hall of Pleas.” The 13th century bridge which spans the Skell, leads to a fragment of the gate-house—whilst portions of the infirmary, guest-hall and other buildings also remain. When complete, the abbey covered twelve acres of ground, its possessions reaching from Pennicent to St Wilfrid’s lands at Ripon—a distance of thirty miles. In Craven as much as 60,000 acres belonged to the abbey. Though now deprived of its possessions and shorn of its former glory, Fountains Abbey is unrivalled in the extent of its domain and is the object of every care on the part of its present owner. The small fee exacted from all who visit the ruins keeps the beautiful grounds in a condition worthy of the treasured relic which they surround.

[BOLTON (Augustine Canons)]

1120, Monastery founded and endowed at Embsay by William de Meschines and his wife Cecile, and dedicated to the Blessed Virgin and St Cuthbert—1151, Canons remove to Bolton, where Alice de Romillé exchanges land with them, for the purpose of erecting a priory to the memory of her son—1308, Edward II. confirms the grants conferred upon the abbey by various benefactors—1540, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £212, 3s. 4d.

Of this magnificent priory (incorrectly called abbey) very little is left standing. The ruins possess, however, an attraction and a charm peculiarly their own, and of the many abbeys for which Yorkshire is famous, not one holds so high place in popular favour as Bolton. History, tradition, and sentiment alike have contributed to this estimation. Picturesquely situated in Wharfedale, the ruins of the abbey stand on a slightly elevated meadowland, past which the river Wharfe flows in a bend, after raging through its rock-bound bed higher up in the valley, and leaping over precipitous cliffs. Some stepping-stones, placed there no doubt by the monks, afford an easy means of crossing the river below the abbey. Surrounding hills protect this ancient house of prayer—enclosing it on three sides by Simon’s Seat, Barden Fell, and the thickly wooded hills of Bolton Park.

Part of the original nave of Bolton Priory has been converted into the present parish church—the choir and transepts are, however, in a ruinous state. The remains of the Perpendicular east window (overlooking the Wharfe) and of the Perpendicular tower at the west end are of later date than the rest of the ruin. The tower was in course of erection by the last abbot, Richard Moon, when, in the 16th century, the dread order for dissolution fell upon the abbey. The superstructure has fallen, but in the lower portion a large Perpendicular window of five lights in two tiers, placed within panelled buttresses, still remains. Over the entrance to the tower may be seen the arms of

the house of Clifford, a family always friendly to the monks. It is evident that the refectory was to the south of the sacred structure, the dormitory and store cellar toward the west, and other offices on the east side. On the south side of the nave, signs of conventual buildings are to be seen. This side of the church is of more ancient date than that of the north, and boasts six beautiful lancet-windows in the clerestory. At the east end of the north aisle is a chantry to the Mauleverer family, whose bodies were, it is said, buried standing—

“There face to face and hand by hand
The Claphams and Mauleverers stand.”

An engraving of Landseer’s famous picture “Bolton Abbey in the Olden Times,” was at one time on the walls of every middle-class dwelling, and to-day it is one of the select few dear to the cottager’s heart. This throws a side-light on the affection which the toilers of the West Riding have for Bolton. Taking their history from the picture, they doubtless look upon Bolton as a place where abundant good cheer was the daily rule. Some colour is lent to this by the Compotus, or household book of Bolton Priory still in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, a list of the members of the household and its expenses during the years 1290-1325. Such items as 636 quarterns of malted oats used in one year’s brewing, and 1800 gallons of wine, bought for a similar period, naturally suggest a generous course of life, especially when it is remembered that the ecclesiastics (réligieux) did not exceed two dozen in number. But Bolton was nevertheless a large establishment. The prior was attended by twenty gentleman-retainers, each with his body servant. Scores of other servants had various duties on the priory estates, and these were daily supplied by the priory. The prior in short was a great feudal dignitary, who kept state in accordance with that position. No small part of his expenses must have been incurred in entertainment, the monastery being ever open to all and sundry, and the Compotus tells us that the visit of a single hunting party was responsible for the consumption of twenty-two quarters of wheat. We do not find that much money went on books, the purchase of but three being recorded in the thirty-five years covered by the Compotus. On the other hand Bolton did its share in the preparation of illuminated manuscripts, the same faithful authority telling of various purchases of gold, colours, and inks.

Historical criticism, so fatal to popular story, has not left Bolton unvisited. Wordsworth has consecrated the time-worn tradition of the Boy of Egremont, drowned by the straining of his dog in the leash whilst attempting to jump the Strid. Some such incident doubtless occurred, for minute detail is not wanting, as for example that young Romillé had gained the other side but was pulled into the swift stream by the resisting hound—a not improbable story when the scene is before us. Sentiment is still aroused by the story of the forester who bore the dread news to the mother and began, “What is good for a bootless bene?” receiving the prophetic reply, “Endless sorrow” in answer to that ominous opening. The first madness of grief passed, the Lady Alice de Romillé, after the fashion of those days, transferred the religious foundation of her father, William de Meschines and her mother, the heiress Cecile de Romillé, from Embsay to Bolton, housing the good monks in sumptuous quarters in memory of him who had been heir to the vast de Romillé possessions. But whatever substratum of truth there may be in the whole romantic legend, it is established by historical documents that her only son William de Romillé (and in the legend the Boy of Egremont is the younger of the two) was a consenting party to the transfer of estates whereby in 1151 the monks of Embsay entered into possession of Bolton. What of romantic tradition is further associated with Bolton lingers round the name of the Shepherd Lord, though this legend has strictly speaking no connection, save in popular fancy, with the priory itself. Most visitors to Bolton, however, naturally walk the four miles of exquisite river scenery between the abbey and Barden Tower—an old possession of the Cliffords. These fierce supporters of the Lancastrian cause came, for the moment, to grief with the triumph of the Yorkist party at Tewkesbury. The youthful heir was smuggled away into the wilds of Cumberland, and then hid and cherished by some faithful retainer. With the settlement of Henry VII., young Clifford, rough and untutored, was revealed as the heir and received the family estates. Quiet and contemplative by nature, he spent much time at Barden, and being devoted to astronomy received the reputation among the simple folk of the district of being an astrologer and magician, though his constant association with the canons of Bolton should have saved him from the imputation.

Bolton was included in the Act of 1539, and early in the next year Richard Moon surrendered his possessions into the hands of the Crown. How far Bolton was open to the grave charges levelled at monastic institutions as a whole we do not know. What is certain, is, that the number of canons in residence had declined, and with them the revenues likewise. The estates were sold in 1542 to Henry Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, and held by his successors till 1635, when they passed by marriage to the Earls of Burlington, and by marriage again in 1748 to their present owners, the ducal house of Devonshire. There are monuments near the priory to the memory of a distinguished member of this family, the unfortunate Lord Frederick Cavendish, assassinated in the Phœnix Park, Dublin, 1882.

[KIRKSTALL (Cistercian)]

1147, Founded by Henry de Lacy—1540, Surrendered by John Ripley, last abbot, to the Commissioners of Henry VIII. Annual revenue, £329, 2s. 11d.—1889, Colonel North buys the abbey from the Earl of Cardigan, and presents it to the Corporation of Leeds.

Perhaps no abbey has a more uninteresting history or less result to show of labour undertaken, than this monastic house of St Mary’s in Airedale. Certainly the populous city of Leeds has the advantage of possessing a very necessary lung for her toilers in the cool retreat and quiet shade of the abbey grounds. The site of the abbey would at its foundation, and for many centuries afterwards, be a very beautiful one; for then the river flowed between gently rising hills in a well-wooded part of Airedale, where now a forest has sprung up in every direction, not of stately trees, alas! but of multitudinous chimneys, houses, etc.; and though these only extend a part of the way between the heart of Leeds and Kirkstall, they are well in sight when the ruins are reached, while these again are surrounded by numbers of the jerry-built monstrosities so beloved by the modern master builder. How different the aspect must have been even in 1770 when Gray thus describes his visit.

“It was a delicious quiet valley: there are a variety of chapels and remnants of the Abbey, shattered by the encroachments of the ivy, and surrounded by many a sturdy tree, whose twisted roots break through the fret of the vaulting and hang streaming from the vaults. The gloom of these ancient cells, the shade and verdure of the landscape, the glittering and murmur of the stream, the lofty towers and long perspectives of the church in the midst of a clear bright day detained me for many hours.”

The abbey lies on a level piece of land on the right bank of the river if approached from Leeds; and

though its dark and reverend walls form the centre of a pleasure ground, not a whit of its dignity is dispelled, nor is its solemnity intruded upon by the sight of the usual seats, refreshment stalls, penny-in-the-slot machines and placards imploring visitors not to walk on the grass, common in such places. No ancient building could more easily be restored than Kirkstall, but when, if ever, this most desirable necessity will be accomplished it is impossible to guess.

The ruins, now stripped of the clinging ivy have an area of 340 feet north to south, by 445 feet east to west, and are an example of Transitional Norman work. They include a quadrangle or cloister of considerable size, on the west of which was an ambulatory with a dormitory above; also a chapter-house—a fine apartment in a fairly good state of preservation; portions of the refectory, the kitchen and lavatory.

Of the church not very much remains, but quite sufficient to show the visitor that in its maturity it must have been of noble and imposing dimensions characterised by the dignified simplicity of all the churches of the Cistercian order. The nave, divided from its aisles by massive columns, is long and lofty, and in times past must have been but dimly lighted by its small round-headed windows of single lights in the clerestory. In each end of the transepts are two stages of triple lights. The choir is aisleless, and of a central tower, unskilfully restored in the reign of Henry VII., only a portion remains—the rest having fallen in 1779. The west front has a deeply recessed Norman door of five orders, and two aisle windows also of the same period. The stately gate-house, north-west of the abbey, part of which is Abbot Alexander’s work, is now converted into a farm-house.

There is much to interest the student of architecture at Kirkstall—and possibly some among the masses of people who resort there at holiday time may appreciate these sermons in stones. The principal historical interest of the abbey is associated with its foundation. It was never distinguished for its benefactions, nor for its learning, and its historical records do not enlighten one as to whether it served any useful purpose whatever. Legend tells the following story of the occupation of its site by Saleth the hermit. In obedience to a voice which bade him “Arise, go into the province called York, and there search diligently until thou findest a valley called Airedale, and a place therein called Kirkstall, where thou shalt provide a place for the future habitation of brethren to serve Jesus of Nazareth, the Saviour of the world,” Saleth, with a few others, founded a hermitage. This retreat was discovered by Alexander, former prior of Fountains, to whom had been granted by Henry de Lacy, Baron of Pontefract, land at Barnoldswick as a thank-offering for recovery from illness. The community (which he had settled at Barnoldswick) was harassed in so many ways that Alexander, its abbot, determined to seek fresh pastures—and so pleased was he with the combination of wood and stream in this particular spot of Airedale, that he begged his patron Henry to sanction the removal of the house from Barnoldswick to Kirkstall. Henry agreed readily, and after laying the foundation of the building with his own hands, continued his favours and endowments, providing subsequently for a lamp to be kept burning day and night before the high altar. After the death of de Lacy and Alexander, the monks of Kirkstall had many anxious experiences. By 1284 the community was over £4000 in debt—this sum, however, was reduced in the course of less than twenty years to £160 by the exertions of Abbot Hugh Grimstone.

After the abbey was surrendered in 1540, the site and demesnes passed through various hands—among others the Saviles of Howley, the ducal house of Montague, and the Earls of Cardigan, a member of which noble family sold them to the “Nitrate King,” Colonel North, on whose suggestion, and at whose cost, they are now the property and, we trust, the proud possession of the citizens of Leeds.

PART II—SOUTHERN COUNTIES

CHAPTER V
KENT: SURREY: SUSSEX: BERKSHIRE
MINSTER: FAVERSHAM: BATTLE: CHERTSEY: READING: ABINGDON

[MINSTER (Benedictine)]

710, Founded by Queen Sexburga, widow of Ercombert, King of Kent, on land given to her by her son Edward—Benedictine nuns established here—885, Danes burn the Abbey Church and disperse the nuns—1130, William de Corbeuil, Archbishop of Canterbury, restores the monastery and church—15—, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £129, 7s. 10d.—1881, Restored.

THESE ruins, containing the remains of what is probably the most ancient abbey church in England, stand on the north coast of the isle of Sheppey near Kent. In former times the monastery, dedicated to St Mary and St Sexburga, was situated about the centre of the island, but is now, owing to the rapid encroachments of the sea, not so far inland. Sheppey, or “isle of sheep,” a barren, treeless island, is eleven miles long, and is bounded by the ocean to the north and east, the Thames and Medway to the west, and the Swale to the south. Very little of the conventual church exists in the present somewhat peculiarly constructed building, which consists of two aisles, a south porch, and an unfinished tower at the west end. The middle wall of the church, with its Saxon windows, was formerly the south wall of the original Saxon building, this being pierced in 1130 to allow of the addition of St Katherine’s aisle. Many alterations took place in the 15th century, when also the erection of the present tower was begun. At this time the nuns used the north side of the church, whilst the south side was appropriated by the parish folk. Nowadays one aisle forms both chancel and nave.

Among the many interesting memorials in this church may be mentioned a Decorated tomb in the south wall, on which lies a cross-legged effigy, supposed to be Sir Robert de Shurland, knight banneret in the time of Edward I.; an effigy in Purbeck marble of a knight who holds in his hand a symbol representing a soul in prayer; and also, in the chancel, a monumental brass of the 14th century. The latter commemorates Sir John de Northwode and Joan his wife. De Northwode was knighted by Edward I. at the siege of Caerlaserock in 1300. The knight’s shield hangs on his left hip, instead of on his arm, from which fact we may infer the brass to be of French origin, the French knights of that day having adopted the custom known as “Ecu eu Cauteil.” Sir John’s lady wears a fur-lined mantle, and the stiff wimple covering her neck and throat, which was then the mark of widowhood, indicates that she survived her husband. In the 13th century the legs of the knight having entirely disappeared they were replaced by modern ones with very incongruous effect, and in addition to this ill-judged restoration, a strip was cut out of the middle of the effigy in order to make the knight’s figure correspond in size to his lady’s.

[FAVERSHAM (Cluniac)]

1148, Founded by Stephen and Maud—Dedicated to St Saviour—153—, Dissolved—The site given to Sir Thomas Cheney, Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports—The greater part of the monastical buildings pulled down. Annual revenue, £286, 12s. 6d.

The town of Faversham, formerly a Saxon centre of some importance, and situated on the river Swale, south of the Isle of Thanet, contains some scanty ruins of an abbey, in the precincts of which were buried its founder, King Stephen, as also his Queen and son. Faversham was known in Saxon times as “Favresfield,” and there, in 930, King Athelstan held a Wittenagemot, or council of wise men. The town sheltered a succession of royal and distinguished visitors in the 16th and 17th centuries—amongst others, Mary, Queen of France, King Henry VIII., with Catherine of Aragon, Cardinal Wolsey and Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury. Queen Elizabeth “lay two nights” there. Nor was the place less favoured by the succeeding house of Stuart, for Charles II. dined with the Mayor of Faversham in 1660 at an expense to the town of £56, 0s. 6d. In the year 1688 James II. was arrested at Faversham whilst making his first attempt to leave England after the landing of the Prince of Orange.

At the time of the Dissolution of the monasteries, the site of this Cluniac monastic house and its adjoining lands came into the possession of Sir Thomas Cheney, Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, and by him they were afterwards alienated to Thomas Ardern, the hero of probably the most notable domestic tragedy ever dramatised in this country. There are three old editions of the drama, and at least one popular ballad on the subject. Thomas Ardern came from the neighbourhood of Canterbury to Faversham at the age of 56, with a wife 30 years his junior—who became so blindly infatuated with one Mosbie that “with callous depravity and cruelty she engaged hirelings to despatch her husband during the fair of St Valentine.” It says little for the morality of Faversham and its neighbourhood that no less than ten persons of decent social position were found ready to lend themselves to the murderous undertaking. Eight of these were in the long run actually executed. “Ardern of Faversham” (1592) is a drama of very slight pretension to literary art, and the republication of 1887 adds further errors to those of the original carelessly printed drama.

[BATTLE (Benedictine)]

1067, Built and endowed by William the Conqueror—Rebuilt in the time of the Plantagenets in the form of a large quadrangle, one side of which was, after the Dissolution, converted into a private house by Sir Anthony Browne. Annual revenue £880, 14s. 7d.—1857, Sir Harry Fane restores the abbey and converts it into a mansion.

Battle Abbey was founded in 1067 by William I. in gratitude to God for the victory vouchsafed to the Norman arms at Hastings “that perpetual praise and thanks might be given to God for the said victory and prayers made for the souls of those who were slain” (Dugdale’s Monasticon). Of the few remaining portions of the abbey buildings, the grand entrance gate, consisting of a three-storeyed tower, embattled with octagonal turrets of the late Decorated period, is still in a good state of preservation. Adjoining it are the monastic offices, with square windows and an embattled parapet. A short drive from the abbey gate brings one to the Abbot’s Lodge—of picturesque and mediæval aspect, although hardly any of the ancient features are intact. The Abbot’s Lodge is now the residence of the Duchess of Cleveland, in whose absence only, the interior is open to visitors. The great hall is remarkable in its proportions—being as high as it is long—but all its details show signs of modern restoration. A few ruins lying a little to the south of the house are known as the old refectory. These are the remains of a fine Early English building, of which the roof has unfortunately disappeared, and beneath it are some vaulted crypts—also of the same period. During the excavations in 1817 the foundations of the eastern part of the abbey church were exposed, disclosing a triple apse and several bases of a crypt. Of the abbey church hardly one stone remains, its former site being now a flower garden.

William the Conqueror had planned the erection of the abbey on a vast scale, intending to endow it with sufficient land to maintain seven score monks. Several Benedictine monks were transported from Marmontier in Normandy, and one of their number, Gausbertus, elected abbot. Many privileges were granted to the abbey by its royal founder, including sanctuary; freedom from the Bishop’s jurisdiction, treasure trove, and to the abbot, the right to forgive any condemned thief he might meet going to execution. According to some accounts William was present at the consecration of the abbey—while other historians write of that ceremony as taking place in 1094, seven years after the king’s death. The Roll of Battle Abbey was supposed to be a list of the barons, and other eminent persons, who accompanied the Conqueror to England, and to have been compiled by the monks of Battle and hung up in their monastery. An English version of some verses referring to the Roll was inscribed on a tablet in the parish church of Battle and ran thus:—

“This place of war is Battle called because in battle here,
Quite conquered and overthrown the English nation were;
This slaughter happened to them upon St Cecilia’s day,
The year thereof (1066) this number doth array.”

A considerable amount of historical research has been undertaken at different times with a view to establishing the authenticity of this list of names (notably by the Rev. Joseph Hunter, F.S.A.), and not a few of our English aristocracy, whose ancestors came over with the Conqueror, trace their pedigree from some forefather whose name they claim to have been inscribed on the Roll of Battle Abbey. The site of the abbey at the Dissolution was granted to one Gilmer and passed through the hands of many families of distinction. In 1857 the estate was bought by Sir Harry Fane. Public admission to the historical field of Senlac is given only once a week. It is to be hoped that the site of one of the most memorable events in English history may some day become national property and that the many tourists attracted to Battle Abbey may help towards safeguarding its interests as a sacred possession of the people.

[CHERTSEY (Mitred Benedictine)]

666, Founded by Frithwaldus, governor of the province of Surrey under Wulfar, King of Mercia—Church and conventual building burnt by the Danes in the 9th century—964, Refounded by King Edgar for Benedictine monks—1110, The abbey rebuilt—15—, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £659, 15s. 8d.

It is indeed a national loss that of this noble and extensive foundation, consisting formerly of a monastic church, a hospitium, two mills, a bridge and a few buildings beyond the Thames, practically nothing should remain save two walls and an arched gateway.

“So total a dissolution I scarcely ever saw,” says Dr Stukeley, “human bones of the abbots, monks, and great personages who were buried in great numbers in the church and cloisters were spread thick all over the garden so that we may pick up handfuls of bits of bones at a time everywhere among the garden stuff.”

Excavations undertaken by the Surrey Archæological Society have brought to light some of the foundations of the abbey, carved stones, stone coffins, and several monumental tiles illustrating the Arthurian legends. A piece of the chapter-house flooring and part of a stone chair have also been discovered. This ancient monastic foundation in Chertsey attained to great magnificence, its head becoming one of the mitred abbots, and consequently enjoying all the privileges of a seat in Parliament. The abbots of Chertsey suffered little, if at all, from molestations from without, or from rebellion and schism within. They cultivated vineyards, hunted hares and foxes, and retained peaceful and uninterrupted possession of the manor for close on 500 years. Though at the time of the Dissolution Henry VIII. appeared to relent his drastic measures with regard to this foundation, yet one year only elapsed between the placing of the Chertsey monks in the refounded priory of Bisham in Berkshire and the compulsory surrender to the Crown of the newly formed religious establishment.

The irregularly built market town of Chertsey in Surrey is situated on the banks of the Thames, and is connected with Middlesex by the seven-arched stone bridge which spans the river. Here lived and died Abraham Cowley, a poet of great celebrity in his day, who, after being ejected from Cambridge as a Royalist in 1643, engaged actively in the royal cause and obtained at the Restoration the lease of a farm at Chertsey which he held under the Queen. In the old church of Chertsey the curfew is regularly tolled upon a bell which was used for generations in the abbey.

[READING (Mitred Benedictine)]

1126, Built and endowed by Henry I.—Dedicated to the Virgin Mary and St John the Baptist—1121-1467, Parliaments held here—15—, Dissolved. Henry Farringdon, last abbot of Reading, executed at Tyburn.

“Hugh, Abbot of Reading, and his convent, reciting by their deed that King Henry I. had erected that abbey for the maintenance of monks then devoutly and religiously serving God, for the receipt of Strangers and Travellers, but chiefly Christ’s poor people, they therefore did erect an Hospital without the gate of the abbey there to maintain 26 poor people; and to the maintenance of Strangers passing that way they gave the profits of their mill at Leominstre. Also Aucherius, Abbot of Reading, built near this abbey a house for lepers that was called St Mary Magdelene’s, allotting for their sustenance sufficient of all things as well in diet as other matters.”

The foregoing extract from Dugdale’s Monasticon indicates the pious and generous motives which inspired the endowment of the once important mitred abbey of Reading. The abbots of Reading ranked next to those of Glastonbury and St Albans, their influence extending far beyond the precincts of the monastery.

Built upon the site of an ancient nunnery, the abbey ruins are beautifully situated on an eminence overlooking the river Kennet to the south and the Thames to the north. From the remaining portions it can be seen that the abbey church consisted of a nave and choir, both with aisles, transepts with eastern chapels, and also a Lady chapel—the entire length being 420 feet. The chapter-house on the east side of the cloister adjoins the south transept and possessed an apse in which were five large windows. On the south side of this cloister garth stood the Norman refectory. The stone facings of the buildings have been removed, leaving only flintstone, but fortunately the abbey mill still stands intact. Henry I. and his two queens, Matilda and Adeliza, were buried in Reading Abbey, though by some strange fancy of disseveration the king’s bowels, brains, heart, eyes and tongue were buried at Rouen. Many real or fancied relics of saints were presented to the abbey. Among other singular objects of the time was one assumed to be the head of the Apostle James—later the hand of this Apostle was brought from Germany by the Empress Maud—carefully enclosed in a case of gold, of which it was afterwards stripped by Richard I. It seems like some curious pioneer movement of foreign missions when one reads that the “maintenance of two Jewish female converts” was imposed on this house by King Henry III.

[ABINGDON (Mitred Benedictine).]

675, Built and endowed by Heane, Viceroy of Wiltshire—955, Monks reinstalled by Edred, King of all England, after the ravages of the Danes—c. 955, Abbot Ethelwold builds the church, dedicates it to St Mary and institutes the rule of St Benedict—1071, Egclwya, Bishop of Durham, dies after imprisonment in the dungeons of the abbey—1084, William the Conqueror keeps the Easter festival at Abingdon—1146, Pope Eugenius III. grants many privileges to the Abbey—15—, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £1876, 10s. 9d.

One Aben, having escaped the cruel treatment Hengist perpetrated on the Barons and great men of the land, hid himself in the south of Oxfordshire for a great while, and the people of the place, pitying him, built him a house and chapel. This then was the beginning of the monastical institution in “Abendun,” so called, after the fugitive. The town of Abingdon, with its narrow winding streets and quaintly gabled houses, has grown up round the mitred monastery of many centuries ago. So closely are the ruins surrounded by houses that there is some difficulty in defining the original site of the abbey. The approach to the ruins is through a gateway of Perpendicular work, built probably about the end of the 14th century. The parapet is battlemented, and over the centre arch may be seen a canopied niche containing the figure of the Blessed Virgin, the patronal saint of the abbey. A few yards further on after turning slightly to the right one reaches the rest of the monastical remains, which consist only of the guest house, with its adjoining abbot’s or prior’s house.

The guest house presents at first sight a somewhat barn-like appearance; it is worthy however of closer inspection. It has two storeys—the ground floor forming the day room and the upper the dormitory. The prior’s house, built in the 14th century, is also a two-storeyed building. A flight of wooden steps, put up for the convenience of the visitor, leads through a pointed doorway into the upper apartments. In a direct line with the entrance is a wall dividing the storey into two rooms, of which the one to the right contains some imposing remains of a columned fireplace, a blocked-up pointed window and stairway door; and the other to the left, a blocked-up window. There are open windows on either side of the entrance, each lighting up one of the apartments. The kitchen or crypt forms the ground floor of the prior’s house, from the one single octagonal column of which spring the ribs that support the groined roof. The fireplace is to the right and facing the entrance is a doorway which formerly communicated with the abbey brook, now known as the mill stream. After being used as a malt house for several years the buildings have been restored by the Abingdon Corporation, by whom the room over the gateway is used as council chamber. To the left on passing through the gateway is the site of the former magnificent abbey church, enclosed in the private grounds of the Bishop of Reading. The whole of the foundations are unfortunately covered by greensward; but it is still possible to gain some idea of the immense size and bold outline of the structure. William of Worcester gives the following dimensions—

Nave, 180 feet.
Two Towers west end, 100 feet high.
Large central tower, 36 feet square.
Choir, with chapel at east end, 162 feet.
Central transepts, 174 feet broad.
Other transepts, 138 feet broad.

At the upper end of the guest house a half circle of stone marks the site of Ethelwold’s church, built on the site of an earlier church erected by Heane in the 7th century. This was peculiar in form, having a circular east end. The fine carved roof of the Lady chapel in St Helen’s church is said to have been removed from the abbey. Along its shields are slight indications of these words

“In the worship of our Lady
Pray for Nicholas Gold and Amy.”

The Chronicle of Abingdon, written by the monks at a time when they were sure of the confidence of the people, is a faithful record of the monastic life-work. A quotation from Mr Stevenson’s review on the translation of the Abingdon Chronicle may be of some interest, as it portrays not only the daily customs of the monks at Abingdon, but of many other monastic establishments.

“Most persons who have bestowed any attention to our early annals will admit, however strong may be their Protestant prejudices, that the best features of our modern civilisation are due to the social organisation introduced by the monks. Agriculture, for example, the parent of all other arts, was despised and neglected by the pagan tribes of German origin, whereas the rule of St Benedict, which was of primary authority with every monastic establishment, proclaimed the ‘nobility of labour’ as a religious duty, inferior in its responsibility only to prayer and study.

“Benedict thought it good that men should be daily reminded that in the sweat of their face they should eat bread, and day by day they toiled in the field as well as prayed in the church. After having been present at the service of Prime, the monks assembled in the chapter-house, each individual received his allotted share of work, a brief prayer was offered up, tools were served out, and the brethren marched two and two, and in silence, to their task in the field. From Easter until the beginning of October they were thus occupied from six o’clock in the morning until ten, sometimes until noon. The more widely the system was diffused the more extensive were its benefits. Besides the monks lay brethren and servants were engaged, who received payment in coin, and as by degrees more land was brought into tillage than the monastery needed, the surplus was leased out to lay occupiers. Thus, each monastery became a centre of civilisation, and while the rude chieftain, intent on war or the chase, cared little for the comfort either of himself or his retainers, the monks became the source, not only of intellectual and spiritual light, but of physical warmth and comfort, and household blessings.”

CHAPTER VI
WILTSHIRE: HAMPSHIRE: DEVONSHIRE
MALMESBURY: LACOCK: NETLEY: BEAULIEU: ROMSEY: SHERBORNE: CERNE: TAVISTOCK: BUCKLAND: BUCKFASTLEIGH
MALMESBURY (Mitred Benedictine)

[MALMESBURY (Mitred Benedictine)]

—, Founded by Maydulphus—635, King Berthwald gives land at Summerford on Thames to the monastery—680, The monastery receives the town of Malmesbury from Lutherius, Bishop of Winchester—1248, Pope Innocent confirms the various grants and ordains that the rules of St Benedict “should always be observed here”—1539, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £803, 17s. 7d.

AS in the case of Abingdon, the ruins of “the right magnificent abbey” of Malmesbury have been ruthlessly encroached upon—squalid streets and shabby houses crowd about its walls, and only a small stretch of land remains undisturbed in the immediate precincts of the abbey. One indignity upon another has been heaped upon this monastery (with which the name of St Aldhelm is inseparably connected), which formerly stood second alone to Durham for beauty of situation and majesty of aspect. At the Dissolution, one William Stumpe, clothier, bought the monastery with the adjoining land for the extraordinarily large sum of £1117, 15s. 11d., selling the nave of the abbey soon afterwards for use as a parish church. The conventual buildings he converted into a mill for the weaving of cloth—whilst small houses were built and streets laid out over the gardens and orchards. Later on, the conventual buildings were turned into a stone quarry, and to-day nothing remains of them except

the abbot’s house which has been rebuilt, serving now as a picturesque and beautiful private house.

Of the ruins there still stand the nave of seven bays with its massive Norman pillars, the aisles, and a wall belonging to the south transept. The south porch—a beautiful piece of Norman work—is said to be the finest of its kind in England, in execution as well as design. The west front—also Norman work—is ornamented with the signs of the Zodiac. In the north wall may be seen a door which led into the cloisters. These, and also the tower at the west end of the church were destroyed during the furious bombardment of Malmesbury by Oliver Cromwell, and on Restoration Day when the abbey was reduced to its present mutilated condition. Nothing remains of the great central tower save two arches. Work of the 12th and 14th centuries are evident in the vaulting of the nave and aisles. The Decorated clerestory was added during the reign of Edward III. The monument to the devout King Athelstan is also on the south side.

St Aldhelm, master of oratory, master of music and master of Greek, Latin, and Saxon letters, was buried in the precincts of Malmesbury. Fuller writes that, “the English monks were bookish themselves and much inclined to bound up monuments of learning.” This can be applied to Malmesbury more perhaps than any other monastic house. For 400 years the monks worked not only at translating the Greek and Latin Classics, compiling and writing theological books and books on law, but also in illuminating these books, and in binding them in gilded and jewelled covers. This huge library was destroyed to the last folio, while the manuscripts were used for such purposes as stopping the bungholes of barrels of special ale, and for lighting the bakery ovens. The splendid traditions as well as the location of Malmesbury might have led one to expect its inclusion among the abbeys destined after the Dissolution for preservation as cathedrals. Malmesbury was surrendered on December 15th, 1539, by Robert Frampton, who accepted a pension amounting in the money of our time to about £2000 a year.

[LACOCK (Augustine Nuns)]

1232, Founded by Ella, widow of William Longespee, Earl of Salisbury, for nuns—1246, The foundress elected abbess—1539, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £168, 9s. 2d.

The ruined walls of Lacock, or “waterlea,” stand in an open meadow on the banks of the river Avon, sheltered by many stately trees. Though the church was totally destroyed at the time of the Dissolution, many of the conventual parts remained unchanged, and are decidedly the best preserved of any nunnery in the kingdom. The cloisters were built in the reign of Henry IV.; the chapter-house and sacristy—both of two aisles divided by four pillars—are on the east side; the great hall on the north; and the ambulatory—above which is the dormitory—on the west. The remains of a former bathroom can be discerned near the sacristy. The historical and legendary associations of Lacock Abbey are of exceptional interest, and are fully dealt with in the Rev. Canon Bowles’ History of Lacock. The abbey was founded in 1232 by Ella, Countess of Salisbury, in pious remembrance of her husband William Longespee, brother of Richard Cœur de Lion. The Earl, who was in close attendance on King John, assisted in founding Salisbury Cathedral, and died by poisoning in 1226. A few years afterwards Ella, directed by visions, founded the monastery and became abbess of her own establishment. This office she retained until five years before her death, when she retired from monastic life. She was buried in the church, but though at the Dissolution the bones of the foundress and her family were scattered, her epitaph and stone were preserved with the cloisters and cells of the nuns.

[NETLEY (Cistercian)]

1237, Founded by Henry III. Dedicated to SS. Mary and Edward—Inhabited by Monks from Beaulieu—1239, Receives its charter from Henry III.—1539, Suppressed. Annual revenue, £100, 12s. 8d.—Granted to Sir William Paulet who adapts part of it to the purpose of a dwelling—1572, Comes into possession of the Earl of Hertford, and late in the 17th century into the possession of the Earl of Huntingdon.

At first sight, the abbey is not impressive. There are no majestic towers nor light and graceful spires—nothing but dense luxuriant foliage. The cloisters have vanished entirely, but where they stood is a deep turfed court, thick with trees and bounded with ivy-covered walls. “Behind this court is the site of the refectory, entirely destroyed except for its cloister walls; to the left the quarters of the lay brothers; to the right the wonderful triple arch of the chapter-house; and in front, seen only dimly through the trees, the windowed wall of the south aisle of the church.” All the buildings to the south of the cloister have been destroyed. The abbey church is fortunately in a fairly good state of preservation, for with the exception of the north transept the rest of the ruin is intact. It is of course roofless, but the elegant east window still conveys an idea of the elevation of this exquisite building. The nave was of eight bays with chapels, the choir of five bays with aisles, the transepts (with eastern chapels) measured 120 feet, and there was also a presbytery and central tower. The whole building appears to have been about 200 feet in length by 60 in breadth. Compared with Beaulieu, when both the abbeys were standing, Netley was far the smaller of the two. The little abbey’s almost perfect proportions are very apt to deceive one as to its real size, and its dimensions are very much smaller than one would ever imagine. Its length was 220 feet, while its height inside the church was only 43 feet. Of the classical reserved 13th century style, Netley, along with the abbeys of York and Rievaulx, attain more than any other the finality of pure Gothic architecture.

In 1700 the entire church was sold by Sir Berkeley Lucy on condition that the buildings be wholly removed, to a certain Walter Taylor, a builder of Southampton. Taylor was a Nonconformist and friend of the father of the eminent Dr Watts, by whom he had been advised to have nothing whatever to do with the impending sacrilege. Still persisting, however, in his communications with Sir Berkeley, he became tormented in dreams, in which it was revealed to him that his death would follow should he take any part in the ruin of the abbey. The unhappy man, however, signed the agreement with Lucy. He removed the roof, destroying the vaulting of the choir, nave, and north transept, together with the centre tower, selling them as so much building stone. While at work on the west end the tracery of the great window fell upon him suddenly, inflicting dreadful injuries to which he soon succumbed. In 1861 steps were taken to preserve what was left of the abbey by the next owner, Mr Chamberlay. The treatment which was given it was quite judicious, and it has not been furbished up into smug neatness like Kirkstall or Tintern, nor has it been abandoned to decay like Rievaulx. As the result of this careful handling, Netley is now left to rest a faultless and perfect ruin—a thing of almost indescribable beauty. The present-day value of Netley really lies in the infinite picturesqueness of its ruins. In the words of Sir Horace Walpole: “They are not the ruins of Netley but of Paradise. Oh! the purple Abbots! what a spot they had chosen to slumber in.”

[BEAULIEU (Mitred Cistercian)]

1204, Founded by King John—1539, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £326, 13s. 2d.

The spiritual brothers of every monastic order had in common, it would seem, the gift of discerning for their foundations sites as perfect in natural charms and resources as in their adaptability for lives of study and meditation, and in their security against encroachments from without. Beaulieu and Netley had each in a measure these advantages. At the time of the Dissolution remoteness and inaccessibility proved the salvation of Netley Abbey. The vast mother-abbey of Beaulieu however lay along tide-water, and its stones were materially available for the king’s purposes. Very little remains therefore of this seat of a mitred abbot except a few of the domestic buildings, including the refectory, now used as the parish church of Beaulieu (Early English), some remnants of the cloisters, and also the fratry and kitchen. On the east side of the cloister area three arches of the chapter-house still stand. The ruins of the abbey may be reached through a stone gateway adjoining the abbot’s house—now a modern mansion, in the Decorated hall of which is a particularly fine vaulted roof. Surrounding the house is a moat constructed by an Earl of Montague as a defence against the attacks of French privateers.

The site of the abbey church was fully disclosed during excavations undertaken at the instigation of members of the ducal house of Buccleuch, and we may trace the location of every wall and pier of what must once have been a noble church with its great nave of nine bays and complete double-aisled choir with a circular termination. The body of Isabella, wife of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, known as King of the Romans, has been found in front of the high altar. The loss of Beaulieu is irreparable in the history of English architecture. One can but be thankful that the little that remains is in the hands of so thoughtful and reverent a custodian, and that the exquisite natural charms are left, not only undisturbed, but are tended with such appreciation and discrimination that “Bellus locus” justifies its name as fully as ever it did. Close to the New Forest, surrounded by majestic trees, the beauty of the scene is greatly enhanced by the sheet of water which spreads itself in sight of the foliage—whilst glimpses of a tidal river can be seen winding between banks edged with trees towards the not far distant ocean.

“Now sunk, deserted and with weeds o’ergrown
Yon prostrate walls their awful fate bewail;
Low on the ground their topmost spires are thrown,
Once friendly marks to guide the wandering sail.
The ivy now with rude luxuriance bends
Its tangled foliage through the cloistered space
O’er the green windows ’mouldering height ascends
And fondly clasps it with a last embrace.”

[ROMSEY (Benedictine).]

907, Founded by Edward the Elder—Greatly enlarged and rebuilt in the reign of Edgar, grandson of Edward the Elder, by Ethelwold, Archbishop of Winchester—Benedictine nuns placed there—974, Opened by the King on Christmas day—Almost destroyed by the Danes early in 11th century—Subsequently restored, enjoying many privileges and high repute under the Norman and Plantagenet rule—1129-69, Nave built by Bishop Henry de Blois—15—, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £393, 10s.

The village of Romsey has grown round the venerable abbey church of SS. Mary and Elfleda, where in former days devout women lived their secluded and consecrated lives. There is considerable difference of opinion as to the origin of the name Romsey, for while some authorities see in it a survival of the Roman “Romana insula,” others trace its present form to the Saxon “Rumes-eye”—“the broad island.” Romsey may formerly have been a Roman city, its position making it practically equidistant from other well-known Roman stations, whilst the island site of the town, surrounded by the tributary stream, the Test, affords some support to the theory of the Saxon origin of the name. The abbey minster has been wisely treated at its various restorations, and although definite types of Early English and Decorated work are represented, the dominating Norman characteristics have not been interfered with. Eastern apsidal chapels, peculiar to Norman work, are in both transepts. The nave of eight bays was built by Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester in the 12th century, whilst two examples of Norman piscinæ may be seen—one in the south choir aisle and the other on the south side of the choir. The west window is Early English, the central of the three lights being 40 feet high. The doors at the west of the north and south aisles, and the graceful arch which spans the west front of the nave are all beautiful work of this period. There is a bas-relief of the Crucifixion on the outer wall of the south transept. The apsidal chapel of the north transept is now used as a school.

There are many peculiarities in the interior of the church—amongst others, the elevation of the flooring of the aisles above that of the nave, where the nuns had their stalls. Many of these nuns were of royal blood, and in Saxon times the nunnery enjoyed high patronage. Under the rule of the Abbess Marivanna the monastery was blessed with peace, and Marivanna is said to have miraculously warned her successor Elwina of the approach of Sweyn and his band of Danish marauders. Matilda, wife of Henry I. and niece of the Abbess Christina, was educated here; and subsequently Mary, Countess of Boulogne, daughter of King Stephen, was elected abbess. This royal abbess openly defied the Pope and, in spite of her monastic vows, married the son of the Count of Flanders, without obtaining the necessary dispensation from the Vatican. After ten years of married life, the rash lovers were compelled to separate, the power of the Church proving too strong for them. In the reign of Henry III. power to condemn and to hang criminals was restored to the abbess of Romsey—this peculiar privilege having become obsolete. The rules of the monastery were strict and the discipline well maintained, earning for Romsey a reputation for high moral tone, as well as for liberality and learning. A marvellously beautiful piece of the nuns’ handiwork can still be seen in an altar cloth of the present church. It is of green brocaded velvet embroidered with golden stars and with lilies exquisitely worked into the material. This work belongs to the 12th or 13th century and was formerly intended for a cope.

[SHERBORNE (Benedictine)]

705, Ina, King of the West Saxons, makes Sherborne the seat of a Bishopric—998, Bishop Wulfsiu builds a priory—1075, Bishop Herman transfers the See to Sarum—1122, Sherborne and Horton made one house—1139, Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, changes the priory of Sherborne into an abbey, that of Horton being destroyed—Benedictine monks placed within it—1436, The abbey suffers from fire, and is changed in restoration from Norman to Perpendicular style—1539, The monastery surrenders to Henry VIII. Annual revenue, £682, 1s.—Sold to Sir John Horsey for £200—The parishioners of Sherborne buy the church from him for £230—1848-58, Restored at a cost of over £32,000.

The old-fashioned town of Sherborne, or “clear brook,” lies on a gentle slope above the river Yeo, in the vale of Blackmore. The first view of Sherborne is delightful. The narrow, winding, roughly-paved streets make a picturesque setting for the solid and stone-built houses, and there is a general impression of peaceful comfort and prosperity about the place. The surrounding country is rich and fertile; the air clear and invigorating. In monastic days the hillsides were covered with vines, so sheltered was Sherborne from extreme severity of weather. It is only from the south that a good view of the parish church—originally the abbey church of the monastery—can be obtained. From the other sides it is much built in.

This abbey of St Mary’s has undergone many vicissitudes, having been built and rebuilt in remote Saxon times; burnt by the dreaded Sweyn when passing through the town on his march from Exeter to Sarum; nearly razed to the ground and again rebuilt in the 15th century; dissolved in the 16th century, at which time the church was made parochial and purchased by the inhabitants of the town; and finally restored at an enormous cost in the 19th century, with the result that no church of such antiquity was ever in a better state of preservation. Considering the chequered history of the building, its many examples of different architectural periods is not to be wondered at. Perpendicular work is most largely represented—the abbey having been restored in the reign of Henry VI. (when this style was in vogue) after a fire, which devastated particularly the east end of the structure. The Norman period found expression in a peculiar south porch and part of the transepts, while the Lady chapel affords a good example of Early English architecture. The church is cruciform, with transepts, choir, and presbytery. The nave, with its two aisles—the one to the north boasting some Decorated windows—has a beautiful vaulted roof and clerestory. From the central tower there is an extensive view over the undulating country for many miles round Sherborne. In the bell chamber below hang ten bells—a sanctus bell, a peal of eight, and a fire bell. Cardinal Wolsey is said to have given the tenor bell—the largest tenor bell in England ever rung in a peal—to the abbey. It was imported from Tournay, and although recast still bears this distich—

“By Wolsey’s gift I measure time for all;
To mirth, to griefe, to church, I serve to call.”

Attached to the church are some ancient chapels, including the Wickham Chantry, where lies Sir John Horsey, also Bishop Roger’s Chantry, with its beautiful Early English window. Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet, Bishop Asser, tutor to Alfred the Great, more than one of the Saxon kings, and Abbot Clement (1163) (of whose tomb but a fragment remains in the north choir aisle) are interred in the cathedral church. The cloisters were on the north side of the church—the former dormitory is now used as a schoolroom. A portion of the refectory still remains, also the abbey barn and the abbey house—the latter being rebuilt after the Dissolution.