The Abbeys of Great Britain

		PAGE
	Introduction	1
PART I.—NORTHERN COUNTIES
CHAP.
I.	Northumberland: Durham—
	Lindisfarne	17
	Hexham	19
	Jarrow	22
	Finchale	24
II.	Lancashire—
	Furness	28
	Whalley	31
III.	Yorkshire (North and East Ridings)—
	St Mary’s, York	34
	Byland	40
	Jervaulx	44
	Rievaulx	47
	Easby	50
	Whitby	52
	Selby	55
	Meaux	61
IV.	Yorkshire (West Riding)—
	Fountains	63
	Bolton	68
	Kirkstall	72
PART II.—SOUTHERN COUNTIES
V.	Kent: Surrey: Sussex: Berkshire—
	Minster	76
	Faversham	77
	Battle	79
	Chertsey	81
	Reading	82
	Abingdon	84
VI.	Wiltshire: Hampshire: Devonshire—
	Malmesbury	88
	Lacock	90
	Netley	91
	Beaulieu	93
	Romsey	94
	Sherborne	96
	Cerne	98
	Tavistock	100
	Buckland	103
	Buckfastleigh	104
PART III.—EASTERN COUNTIES
VII.	Lincolnshire: Suffolk: Essex—
	Croyland	106
	Thornton	108
	Swineshead	109
	Bury St Edmunds	112
	Waltham	117
PART IV.—WESTERN COUNTIES
VIII.	Herefordshire: Somersetshire: Gloucestershire: Monmouthshire—
	Dore	120
	Glastonbury	122
	Bath	127
	Tewkesbury	130
	Tintern	133
	Llanthony	135
PART V.—MIDLAND COUNTIES
IX.	Oxfordshire: Derbyshire: Nottinghamshire: Worcestershire—
	Dorchester	139
	Dale	141
	Newstead	143
	Evesham	147
X.	Middlesex—
	Westminster	151
XI.	Hertfordshire—
	St Albans	161
PART VI.—WALES
XII.	Glamorganshire: Denbighshire—
	Neath	165
	Valle Crucis	167
PART VII.—SCOTLAND (Northern Counties)
XIII.	Aberdeenshire: Morayshire: Ross-shire: Perthshire: Stirlingshire—
	Deer	169
	Kinloss	170
	Fearn	172
	Inchaffray	174
	Cambuskenneth	175
PART VIII.—SCOTLAND (Southern Counties)
XIV.	Edinburgh or Midlothian: Berwickshire—
	Holyrood	177
	Dryburgh	181
XV.	Roxburghshire—
	Melrose	185
	Kelso	188
	Jedburgh	190
XVI.	Dumfriesshire: Kirkcudbrightshire: Renfrewshire: Fifeshire—
	Lincluden	193
	Sweetheart	194
	Paisley	195
	Dunfermline	196

Westminster	Frontispiece
Lindisfarne	To face page 16
York	”34
Rievaulx	”46
Fountains	”62
Bolton	”68
Kirstall	”72
Malmesbury	”88
Netley	”92
Glastonbury	”122
Tintern	”132
Westminster (St Stephen’s Crypt)	”150
Dryburgh	”180
Melrose	”184
Kelso	”188
Jedburgh	”190

END PAPERS
Tewkesbury	Boyle
Battle	Glastonbury
Netley	Valle Crucis

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—

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 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—

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—

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:—

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

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.

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

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.

’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.

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.

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:—

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.

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.”

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.

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—

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.

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.

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.

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.

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—

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 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:—

Length of Nave	200	feet.
Width “	70	“	including aisles.
Length of Chancel	72	“	2 inches.
Width “	70	“	including aisles.
Length of Transept	135	“
Width “	74	“	including aisles.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:—

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.

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.

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—

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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:—

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.

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.

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.

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.

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—

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

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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—

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.

These circumstances, according to Dugdale, led to the founding of the abbey of Cerne in 987. Other writers, however, hold the opinion that credit is due to the great Apostle of the Anglo-Saxons for an even earlier foundation.

Only the gateway of this once magnificent abbey remains, and near it the well dedicated to St Augustine. The gateway—a large embattled structure—is in a good state of preservation, and even yet possesses some of its former dignity. When excavating on the site of the abbey church, a stone effigy of peculiar interest was found. It is 15th century work, representing a lady, of royal birth possibly, who once held the position of abbess in this monastic house. She carries a staff in her right hand and in her left she holds a book. Fragments of a leaden chalice and paten and encaustic tiles, chiefly of Perpendicular work, have also been found. The present abbey house has been built from the remains of the abbey.

Near the town of Cerne on the southern slope of Trendle Hill there may be seen the outline of a remarkable figure of a man, 180 feet high and with outlines about 2 feet broad. Various traditions are held concerning the origin of this figure; one being that it represents a Saxon deity Heil (Hercules), and another that it serves as a memorial to Cendric, king of the West Saxons; while the most popular legend speaks of the figure as that of a giant, who, after eating some sheep, indulged in a post-prandial nap and was pinioned by the inhabitants of the town, who in this way judged his dimensions. Chacun à son gout!—for there is doubtless a grain of truth in all three stories, and failing opportunity and inclination for authentic research, imagination and prejudice may be allowed to have free play.

Tavistock, like Buckland, is on the Tavy, and here, amidst beautiful country in a trough of hills, stands the skeleton of a formerly magnificent structure, once inhabited by Benedictine monks. Typical Devonshire scenery, both stern and gentle, with its bleak moorland and well-wooded, peaceful valleys, is nowhere more strongly exemplified than in the surroundings of this abbey, for though sheltered in a fertile valley, the dreary Dartmoor lies very close, and stretches away in the far distance, adding a grim and sombre tone to the aspect.

Two gateways, the fratry, and a porch are the principal portions remaining of the abbey. The frater, which has a fine portico, is now used as a Unitarian chapel. This Benedictine house of Tavistock was fortunate in gaining (among other benefactions) the goodwill and support of King Ethelred, Leving, Bishop of Worcester, and of Henry I. A school for the study of Saxon was founded in connection with the abbey soon after its re-establishment, and later, after the introduction of printing into England, a press was set up there and many books, including a Saxon grammar, were published. History and legend combine with exceptional interest in connection with the foundation of Tavistock—attributed to Ordgarus, whose good work was carried on by his son Ordulph, father and brother respectively of Queen Elfrida, who so treacherously and cruelly connived at the murder of her stepson. Ordulph is said to have been of such gigantic stature as to be able to break the bars of gates and to stride a river 10 feet wide. Huge bones, said to be his, may still be seen in Tavistock church. Ordulph endowed the abbey with many lands, which bounties, added to the benefactions of King Ethelred, were the cause of the institution becoming both wealthy and flourishing. After total destruction by the Danes, the abbey was rebuilt only to become more prosperous than ever.

There are still evidences of its former grandeur and of the sumptuous manner in which the dignitaries lived. Risdon relates the following curious circumstance, from which we can gather the unexpectedness of some of the many sources from which wealth accrued to the abbey.

John Penryn, elected Abbot of Tavistock in 1522, began his rule in peace and quietness, little thinking that he was to be last abbot of Tavistock. In 1526 this dignitary, according to Oliver’s Monasticon, was ordered to supply a servant of the king with a corrody, consisting of “One white loaf, another loaf called Trequarter, a dish called General, another dish of flesh or fish called Pitance, and three pottels, or three halfpence daily; also a furred robe at Christmas yearly, of the same kind as that of our esquires, or the sum of 20 shillings.” Pensions were paid to one John Elyote and William Tyler, M.A., of Oxminster; in the first instance for doing the duties of organist and choirmaster, and in the second for teaching grammar to the boys of the house and for expounding Scripture in the refectory. One wonders why this work had ceased to be done by the monks themselves. The literature of the time shows plainly that monks and friars were losing hold on popular regard—although some of the best houses were still doing earnest work in study and in relieving distress. Cromwell had a large share of public opinion on his side when he suppressed nearly four hundred of the smaller houses. John Penryn, among other wise abbots, expecting the blow, had been putting his house in order, and making arrangements for its future good management. He called his twenty brethren together a month or so before the Act of Parliament for the Suppression was passed, and surrendered his monastery—with its manors, churches, lands, down to books and parchments, into the hands of the king. In doing so he secured fairly good terms for himself and his monks, for the abbot’s pension was equivalent to more than £100 a year in our present money, and the monks, with the exception of one, received pecuniary compensation in proportion.

The history of this Cistercian house is of twofold interest, for in addition to its foundation as a religious establishment in the 13th century, it became eventually, after its reconstruction as a manor house, the home and favourite residence of one of England’s greatest naval heroes, Sir Francis Drake. Buckland Abbey, one of the most notable ancient halls of England, is still in the possession of the Drake family, and many relics of the famous explorer are to be seen within its walls, including a Bible which had been his constant companion on all his journeys. The building consists chiefly of stones of the original structure, although totally different in construction.

Of the monastical parts of this foundation, practically only a barn, 180 feet long, and a belfry are still preserved. The fragments in the Vicarage garden are supposed to be all that is left of the last abbot’s house. Still, even in these days, it is quite possible to picture the happy situation and consequent beauty of the monastic demesne. The river Tavy flows past the abbey, which is surrounded on all sides by delightful gardens, including an orchard said to have been the first planted in Devonshire. To the industry and discernment of the monks is greatly due the fame of Devonshire for the excellence of its cider—the greatest care having been taken in those early days to secure the very best grafts from Normandy. Nothing particular is recorded of the fortunes of this religious house. Disgrace fell upon it at one time—the monks having presumed to perform certain ceremonies without the necessary permission of Walter de Bronescombe, Bishop of Exeter, and being consequently excommunicated. From this suspension they were happily relieved by the interposition of Queen Helena.

Buckland Abbey, as in the case of all religious foundations, succumbed to the demands of the insatiable Henry VIII., but was fortunate in eventually passing into the hands of Richard Grenville, who did not utterly remove all vestiges of the original structure when building the present noble house called Buckland Abbey. The connection of the great Drake with the manor house was not limited to his ownership of the old abbey, for here he spent the earliest, and not a few of the later years of his life; while many of his triumphs were won on the waters which washed this lovely county of Devon. It is sad that at the close of a life so full of successful effort, a life almost unparalleled in its daring initiative of action, Sir Francis Drake should not have found a resting place in his beloved home. Failure attended his expedition to the West Indies, where he had hoped to strike a blow at the gigantic power of Spain. By the capture of the Spaniards of one of Drake’s smaller vessels, the plans of the English admiral became known to his enemies and all his schemes were more or less defeated. Bent down and disheartened by failure, Drake succumbed after twenty days’ illness to disease which had broken out among his men, receiving a sailor’s funeral off the shores of Puerto Bello, December 1595.

In an opening of the forest near the river Dart a small band of Cistercian monks built an abbey for their order in the 12th century, hoping in the seclusion of the spot to be free from the prevalent disturbances of those early times. The name Buckfastleigh implies a spot where deer may safely venture to drink, “buckfast”—the fastness of the deer—and “leigh”—a lea or pasture,—and is probably symbolical also of the peace and quiet so essential to the retired lives led by the holy men of old. The actual beginning of this religious house reaches back into antiquity, and in the course of its long history it has twice changed its order of rule. In the Saxon time it was subjected to Benedictine sway, after the Conquest it was refounded for Cistercian monks, and lastly, some years ago, a mansion was built on a portion of the site which has since been inhabited by Benedictine brothers from France who have partially rebuilt the old abbey.

The remains of the 12th century building are somewhat insignificant. They are situated on the north side of the village on the right bank of the river, and consist of a tower covered with ivy, and a large tithe barn, together with a Saxon crypt. A woollen factory now occupies part of the abbey site, and in connection with this fact it is interesting to note that trading in wool was an important source of revenue in the days of the Cistercians. Still further back the woollen fabrics of Rome had obtained special excellence, and in time, the Roman manufactures were carried to the countries in which Roman colonies had been established. In England the making of woollen cloths was introduced by the Romans, but it was in the hands of a few only. The Cistercians at Buckfastleigh were all wool-traders, and to this day there is a road called “Abbot’s Way”—said to be the former post road by which the wool of the community was conveyed to Plymouth for export.

THE ruins of Croyland Abbey are of exceptional interest and show many styles of architecture. The west arch of the central tower with its zig-zag moulding is Norman work, and is undoubtedly the most ancient part of the ruin. The west front consists of two styles—Early English in the lower part and Perpendicular in the upper. The north-west tower was erected in 1427; its buttresses and spire, and also the adjoining west porch are, however, 16th century work. The remainder of the ruins are mostly Perpendicular—the nave, aisle, transepts and Lady chapel having been built in the 15th century. The north aisle of the abbey church has been used as the parish church since 1688 when the roof of the abbey fell in. Croyland in its prosperity was one of the most wealthy and magnificent monastic foundations in England.

Founded in Saxon times, it was re-established after the Norman invasion and subsequently became a mitred abbey. The original church and monastery suffered greatly at the hands of the Danes in the 9th century, the “Abbot being slain at the altar where he was celebrating the Holy Communion and many of the monks being tortured and killed in the most cruel manner.” Shrines and monuments were specially singled out by the Danes for destruction, the sacred contents being irreverently scattered in all directions, and the costly memorials rifled. But for the influence of monasticism, Croyland (derived from the Latin Crudam terram—muddy land) might still be a small and insignificant island. Owing to the religious enterprise and enthusiasm of King Ethelbald, the abbey was built on the tract of land with which he endowed it. At his instigation oak and alders were driven in as piles, and hard earth brought in boats from the upland. An excellent system of drainage, too, was carried out, converting marsh into rich pasture land, watered by the Welland alone instead of the four streams by which it was originally enclosed.

A curious triangular bridge, the most ancient of all non-Roman bridges in Europe, stands high and dry in the centre of the village. From its steep ascent it is not used by carriages—the ascents having been made into steps paved with small stones. In connection with the history of Croyland and its abbey one may learn another of the means by which so many rich and sumptuous religious houses were built in the kingdom. Joffrida or Geoffrey, Abbot of Croyland, obtained indulgence from the Archbishop for the third part of the penance enjoined for any particular sin and to everyone who helped in any way towards the building of the monastery. Monks were sent out to collect money and before long a foundation stone was laid with great ceremony. The abbot laid the first cornerstone, every nobleman according to his rank laying his stone, accompanied in every case by substantial gifts in kind. The poorer people offered one day’s work a month, small gifts of money—certain numbers of them holding themselves responsible for whole pillars, pedestals, etc. The abbot in return made every helper a member of the fraternity, to which in later years Henry VI., King of England, was also admitted. In the time of the Civil wars, Croyland became a garrison for one or other of the contending sides, and the abbey was taken by Cromwell in 1642.

The ruins of this Augustine house are at a distance of a little over a mile from the village of Thornton Curtis, and about five miles from Barton-on-Humber, in the county of Lincoln. In former days the abbey demesne extended to 100 acres, and was surrounded by a moat and wall. The beautiful early Perpendicular gate-house, undoubtedly one of the finest of the period existing in this country; a fragment of the south transept of the church (Decorated); the abbot’s house, now converted into a farm; and a small portion of the chapter-house still remain—the latter dating from between 1282-1308. Several slabs and stone coffins lie about in the area of the nave of the abbey church. It is evident that the choir was built in the 14th century, the presbytery, however, was probably work of a later period.

Old associations ensure reverent treatment for the scanty remains, and although the rude hand of Time cannot be stayed, still such wanton destruction as was meted out to the sacred establishment by some of the former possessors is not likely to be repeated in the present healthy state of popular opinion in such matters. The mode of capital punishment, not uncommon in monasteries, and described with such thrilling and awful detail in the second Canto of Marmion, had evidently been exercised within the walls of Thornton, for in taking down a wall in the ruins, a skeleton, supposed to have been the remains of the 14th abbot, was found with a table, book and candlestick. Mingled feelings must have moved the obsequious monks, when a few years before the impending storm of the Dissolution, Henry VIII. with his gentle consort, Jane Seymour, visited the abbey in solemn state. Sumptuous hospitality and flattering attentions were showered upon the royal guests, and not without effect, for, though Thornton shared in the general suppression of monastic houses, its coffers were left unplundered, and the money used towards the endowment of a college which was established there. This institution in turn was suppressed—liberal provision being made for several of its members. Thornton was part of the estate of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and afterwards belonged to Henry, son of Hotspur, who distinguished himself in the Civil War of York and Lancaster.

Many interesting records are extant of religious life in the county of Lincoln. In the 13th and 14th centuries hundreds of pilgrims made their way from Lincolnshire to Rome and to the Holy Land, inspired doubtless, in great measure, by the spiritual influence emanating from the abbeys of Swineshead, Thornton, and Croyland. The monastic chronicles, with their references to larger incidents of history beyond monastic bounds, were introduced into England by the Normans. The writers in such chronicles were usually monks, drawn from the lower or middle classes, who spoke chiefly of events as they touched the religious and substantial welfare of the people. We read therefore that the gild of the Resurrection at Lincoln (founded in 1374) had among its rules, “If any brother or sister wishes to make a pilgrimage to Rome, St James of Galicia, or the Holy Land, he shall forewarn the gild; and all the brethren and sistern shall go with him to the city gate, and each shall give him a halfpenny at least.” The same rule is found in the Gild of Fullers of Lincoln, founded in 1297; the pilgrim going to Rome was accompanied, as far as the Queen’s Cross outside the town if he left on a Sunday or Feast; and if he could let them know of his return, and it were not a working day, all went to meet him at the same place and accompanied him to the monastery. Again, the tailors also gave a halfpenny to him among them who is going to Rome or St James, and a penny to him who goes to the Holy Land. The activities of these Gilds were probably directed to some extent from the Abbey of Swineshead or Swinestead, seven miles from Boston in Lincolnshire.

Founded in 1134, the abbey was at first of small importance. One of the early abbots, Gilbert de Holland—particular friend and biographer of St Bernard—worked strenuously to promote the welfare of the new order of Cistercian or “white monks.” Little is known of the work of this religious establishment, but history has familiarised the name of Swineshead to many readers, for it was here that King John sought refuge after the misfortune which befell him on the banks of the Wash. Greatly annoyed at the loss of his treasures and baggage carriages, which were suddenly swept away by the return of the tide, the king and his men proceeded to Swineshead Abbey. On the night of their arrival the king was seized with a violent fever which, after a few days’ illness, proved fatal. One authority attributes his sudden death to a surfeit of fruit and new cider. Shakespeare evidently ignores both versions of the king’s sudden demise, for in King John, Act V. Scene VI., in a conversation near Swineshead Abbey, Hubert de Burgh speaking to Philip Falconbridge says:

There are very few adherents to this theory, for, such an act on the part of a monk, unless inspired by the King’s enemy, would have been motiveless and contrary to the prevailing spirit in the hospitable monasteries. Among other ancient customs still prevalent in Swineshead are the daily curfew at 8 p.m. and the cutting of a large cross in the turf on the spot where death by violence has befallen any one. An interesting Danish encampment near the town, and known as Manwarings, is 60 yards in diameter and surrounded by a double fosse.

The history of the abbey of Bury St Edmunds, although veiled in much legendary and mythical lore, tells nevertheless in its actual history of the progress of civilisation and of the enlightenment of the human mind. Sigberct, King of the East Angles, is said to have founded the first monastery at Beodericsworth (a town known to the Romans, ancient Britons, Saxons and Danes), and to have subsequently laid aside his royal dignity by joining the brotherhood which he had established. Following his example of religious devotion, Edmund, last King of the East Angles, sacrificed not only his crown but his life in defence of the Christian faith, for he was beheaded by the Danes at Eglesdene in 870.

His head was cast into a forest and, as the story goes, was miraculously discovered and found to be guarded by a wolf. It was then buried with the body at the village of Hoxne where it remained until 903. In this year, “the precious, undefiled, uncorrupted body of the glorious king and martyr” was translated to the care of the secular priests at Beodericsworth, since when the town has been called St Edmundsbury in memory of the sainted monarch. Other wonderful traditions are associated with the shrine of St Edmund. Sweyn, the violent Danish king, coming in hot pursuit of a woman who had claimed sanctuary, was miraculously killed by an imaginary spear which came out of the shrine when he was about to seize the woman who was clinging to its side. Bishop Herfastus, too, was struck blind, when on a visit to the abbot, in the attempt to establish his new See in the monastical demesne, and afterwards miraculously healed. For centuries the highest in the land brought gifts and laid them before the venerated shrine.

Canute was the actual founder of the monastery proper, for in the 11th century he brought over Benedictine monks from Hulm, granting them a charter and many benefactions. The monastery yearly became more prosperous, and, with the exception of Glastonbury, exceeded in magnificence and privileges all other ecclesiastical establishments in the country. In the height of its glory it must have been a most beautiful and dignified structure. Leland writes:—

The immense minster with its lofty western and central towers rose above the monastic buildings which were enclosed by a wall. To the north was a great cloister with the various conventual offices, to the south-west lay the cemetery and church of St Mary, while immediately before the west front of the church stood the Norman tower leading to St James’ Church.

Sufficient is left of the reverend walls to convey some idea of the former vastness of the abbey and its attendant buildings. Of the minster itself little remains—some arches of the west front, now converted into private houses, and the bases of the piers which supported the central tower. The site of St Edmund’s chapel—the part of the building which contained the famous and much visited shrine—is at the east end of the church. Besides these relics of the minster, there still exists the Norman tower—built during the time of Abbot Anselm and formerly known as the principal entrance to the cemetery of St Edmund, and latterly as the “Churchgate” and bell tower of St James’ church;—the abbot’s bridge (Decorated) of three arches; portions of the walls; and the abbey gateway. The latter was restored in 1327 after one of the many quarrels between the monks and townspeople and is of rich Decorated work. Within the extensive abbey demesne lie the churches of St James—another piece of Anselm’s work—and St Mary. The latter was built by the parish folk. A small portion of its west end protrudes beyond the abbey precincts and was built thus with the intention of distinguishing it as the work of the town and not of monastical enterprise. It is a beautiful and imposing edifice in the Perpendicular style, and among its many beauties is the unique waggon-roof of the chancel. The remains of Mary Tudor, Queen of France, and afterwards those of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, were brought from the abbey and reinterred there.

First among the abbots of Bury stands the name of Samson, “the wolf who raged among the monks.” Many of the brothers had become entangled with Jewish moneylenders in the 12th century, and Abbot Samson, while protecting the Jews at the time of the massacre, discharged all the debts of his house, established many new rules, and set a godly and strenuous example to his followers. Later, in 1205, the chief barons met at Bury in opposition to King John and swore at the second meeting, four years later, in the presence of the King and Archbishop Langton, to stand by their cause till the King should be induced to sign the Great Charter, and to establish those liberties which we still enjoy.

On the roll of illustrious visitors to the abbey are the names of Edward the Confessor, who always dismounted and approached the gates on foot; Richard I.; Henry I.; Henry II.; King John; Henry III.; Edward II.; Edward III.; and Richard II. The visit of Henry VI., with his Queen, took place during the rule of Abbot Curteys, at which time the poet Lidgate was a member of the fraternity. The foul murder of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, by the Duke of Suffolk (described by Shakespeare in Henry VI.) is supposed to have taken place in St Saviour’s Hospital, which formed part of the abbey buildings. The writer, who had the pleasure of viewing the pageant presented at Bury St Edmunds in 1907, on a site near St Edmund’s chapel, was impressed by the historical fitness of the environment as the procession of black-robed monks filed slowly by, chanting an old Gregorian mode as they walked. Less realistic, if more diverting, was the spectacle of tonsured figures darting in and out of 20th century hostelries, and of Argyll cars filled with Roman and Elizabethan ladies and driven possibly by an Edwardian knight. These pageants, despite their incongruities, have much to commend them, reminding the English people, as they cannot fail to do, of the sources of their greatness, and illustrating to them so graphically the customs of the so frequently regretted “good old times.”

Waltham, or Wealdham, from the Saxon “a dwelling near the forest,” an ancient and quaint market town, lies on the great North road. Tovi, standard-bearer to Canute, after building a few houses, set up a church here in the 11th century in which the Holy Rood, accredited with miraculous power, was guarded by priests. Dugdale in his Monasticon states that Harold, when visiting Waltham, was healed of the palsy, and, being overcome with gratitude, granted lands and endowments to the priests, increased their number, rebuilt the church, and set up an establishment for the furtherance of learning. Harold is supposed to have been buried in Waltham Abbey after the battle of Senlac, “in confirmation of which it is stated that in the reign of Elizabeth a rich grey marble tomb was discovered, and from the pillarets which support the cross fleury upon it, little doubt exists that it covered the remains of the ill-fated Harold and his brothers” (Cassell’s Gazetteer). This was situated at the end of the church near the altar, and two inscriptions are ascribed to it, one of which is half a dozen lines of Latin, the other, more simple and consequently impressive, consists of two words, “Harold infelix.” The tomb was destroyed in 1540.

The venerable church was founded by a king of England; deprived of many of its valuables by the Norman Conqueror; firmly established by the Plantagenets—receiving both from Henry II. and Henry III. peculiar marks of favour—and finally was overwhelmed by Henry VIII. It is said that this monarch once visited the abbey in disguise, and after faring well on the sirloin of beef set before him by the abbot, the latter observed that he would give the king £100 if he too could enjoy his food, and lamented the state of his digestion which even prevented him from enjoying the breast of a chicken. Shortly after this the abbot was forcibly taken to London and lodged in the Tower, where he for some time enjoyed only bread and water for sustenance. At length a sirloin of beef was brought, upon which he fed in a most hearty manner. At this point King Henry strode into his cell and demanded £100, to which request the unfortunate abbot very reluctantly was obliged to concede.

Apart from its old associations, the town of the present day is of no special interest. Its streets are crooked and narrow and there is no particularly attractive feature about either the town or the exterior of the abbey church—one mile distant from the station. The present edifice of Norman origin, and dedicated to St Mary and St Lawrence, has been restored at various times since the Dissolution.

Of the early building practically only the nave remains—a very fine specimen of Norman architecture. Of seven bays—the two easternmost of which form the present chancel—and having massive circular columns with chevron or spiral channels, it is somewhat akin to the nave of Durham Cathedral. Other interesting features include the Lady chapel (now used as a schoolroom), beneath which is a crypt—“the fairest,” says Fuller, “that I ever saw,”—a chantry on the south-east side of the nave, of the time of Henry VII., and the western tower, erected in 1556 after the fall of the original tower. During the restoration of 1847 some fine fresco paintings, composed of life-sized figures, were discovered on the walls, and in 1875 the north aisle was added. There are several monumental brasses in the church, and in the south aisle is a large tomb to Sir E. Denny, Knight, and Margaret his wife, with recumbent effigies. The site of the abbey passed into the possession of this family after the Dissolution, then to the celebrated James Hay, Earl of Carlisle, and lastly to the family of Sir W. Wake, Bart., D.C.L. A few walls, a small bridge, and a gateway are all that remain of the monastery.

THIS religious house, like many others of the Cistercian order, was built in a secluded and beautiful spot. Though the architecture of the Cistercian monasteries is not so ornamental or elaborate as those of the Benedictines from whom they sprang, still their churches have a grandeur and simplicity which immediately impress the visitor. Abbey Dore, on the river Dore in Herefordshire, may indeed be included among the most interesting and beautifully situated in England. To quote from Our Own Country:—

Very little remains of the domestic buildings of the monastery—only a portion of a passage abutting on the transept wall and indicating a former “slype.” There are marks of two roofs high up on the same transept wall, showing that the monks’ dormitory was probably there. The nave of the original church is nothing but a ruin and the present church consists only of the former choir, transepts and Lady chapel. John, Lord Scudamore, preserved this portion in the year 1634, re-roofed it, and after generously endowing it, restored it for the purposes of public worship. The original vaulting fortunately still remains over the chapels at the east end of the church. The pews, the oak screen, and western gallery are of the 17th century. The most remarkable part of this interesting abbey church is undoubtedly the east end, which is square. Three lancet-windows, containing old stained glass, light the upper part, under which are three pointed arches leading into an eastern ambulatory. Beyond this are five chapels, three in the centre and two others corresponding with the side aisles. The tower is peculiarly situated at the eastern angle of the south transept. With the exception of the east end, the whole structure is somewhat massive and heavy—Norman work decidedly dominating over the Early English style.

There are some monuments still remaining in the church, including a peculiar slab on which is the small figure of a bishop. Tradition says that it commemorates a boy bishop, but on good authority it is stated that it shows the “burial place of the heart of Bishop John Breton” of the 13th century. The altar possesses great interest to the antiquarian. It is a large slab supported by massive columns which are really capitals of columns, probably discovered in the ruins and put to their present use when the altar slab was recovered from the adjoining farm-house where it is said to have been used for dairy purposes. When Robert, Earl of Ferrars, founded the monastery, he endowed it with lands “to hold free and quit of all secular service, by the rent of three shillings yearly to be paid at the Feast of St. Peter and ad vincula; and this was exprest to be given not only for the Health of the Souls of his Ancestors and Heirs but also for the Peace and Stability of all England and Wales.”—Dugdale’s Monasticon.

Though, once surrounded by fenland, the abbey of Glastonbury—a veritable treasure-house of legendary

lore—stands now amid orchards and level pasture lands engirt by the river Bure. The majestic Tor overshadows this spot, where, undoubtedly, the first British Christian settlement was established. The name of the builder of the first early church can never be ascertained, so that in want of more substantial evidence, the old legend of St Joseph of Arimathæa must be accepted, however slight its claims to historical authority. Certain it is that Christianity was introduced into this land on the island of Yniswytryn, or “Isle of Glass” (so called on account of its crystal streams), in the very early centuries. According to the Arthurian legends, St Philip, Lazarus, Martha, Mary and Joseph of Arimathæa, having been banished by their countrymen, journeyed to Marseilles, from whence Joseph, with twelve companions and holy women, was sent by St Philip to Britain. They landed on the south-west coast and made their way to Glastonbury, then Avalon (and so named in allusion to its apple orchards), and by means of preaching and many miraculous deeds persuaded the people to adopt Christianity. Gaining the goodwill of King Arviragus, they built a church of wattle and twigs on the ground given to them by their royal patron. The Benedictine, with its later developments in Norman times of Augustine and Cluniac orders, was the first religious order introduced into this country. It was instituted in Italy early in the 6th century by St Benedict of Nursia. Many monasteries established before the Conquest came under its sway and were, centuries later, after the Dissolution, converted into Cathedral churches.

A sharp distinction should be drawn between the monasteries established previous to the Conquest and those subsequently founded by the Cistercian and other orders. The former were national houses—in every way belonging to the English people and untouched by Papal influence; while the latter, which were under the immediate control of the Bishop of Rome, were essentially of foreign foundation.

Glastonbury, “first ground of the saints, the rise and foundation of all religion in the land,” is the earliest and most important Benedictine centre in England; and though, owing to the depredations of men and the wear and tear of time, services are not held now within its ruined walls, it still holds first place among the ecclesiastical monuments in this country. Coel, King of the Britons; Caradercus, Duke of Cornwall; King Arthur and Guinevere his Queen; Kings Kintevymus, Edmund, Edgar, and Edmund Ironside were buried here, as well as other great personages of Church and State.

King Ina, persuaded by St Aldhelm, rebuilt and re-endowed the abbey in the 8th century, renounced his royal state, and lived as an ordinary civilian, being induced to do so by extraordinary devices on the part of his wife Ethelburh. On one occasion, after King Ina had given a great feast to his barons, he and his queen left the castle and proceeded to another of the royal residences. Before leaving, Ethelburh had commanded the servants to strip the castle of all its valuables, furniture, etc., and to fill it with rubbish and to put a litter of pigs in the king’s bed. A short distance on their journey, Ethelburh persuaded the king to return, and showing him over the desecrated palace, exhorted him to consider the utter worthlessness of all earthly splendour and the advisability of joining her on a pilgrimage to Rome. Impressed by her words, Ina acted as she advised, and later endowed a school in Rome in which Anglo-Saxon children might become acquainted with the customs of foreign countries. Ina and Ethelburh spent the remainder of their days in privacy in the Holy City.

The famous Dunstan, one of the greatest of ecclesiastical statesmen, was born in Glastonbury, and after proving his many marvellous capabilities and aptitude for learning, was made abbot of the Benedictine house in his native town in the reign of Edmund the Magnificent. Many strange stories are told of him—the most fantastic perhaps being that of his interview with the natural enemy of man, the Devil himself, during which the reverend man became either so irritated or terrified that he was provoked to seize the nose of his ghostly visitor with a pair of red-hot pincers. Dunstan staunchly supported all the reforms introduced by Odo, Archbishop of Canterbury, and in particular the enforcing of more rigid rules upon the clergy or “seculars” in the matter of marriage. The monks or “regulars,” sworn to a life of celibacy, considered that the “seculars” should be subject to similar restrictions. In this matter, Odo’s motives were deeper and more pecuniary than were at first apparent. After the quarrel between the two parties had raged for many years, the “regulars” gained the victory, and much ecclesiastical property changed hands consequent on a large number of the clergy being compelled to enter the monasteries. William the Conqueror despoiled the abbey of much of its property at the beginning of his reign, but later he relented somewhat. Thurstan, a Norman, was appointed abbot, and the monks declining to conform to new musical rules which he enforced in tyrannical fashion, Thurstan summoned soldiers into the sacred building and ruthlessly killed many of the monks.

Though the ruins of Glastonbury are somewhat scanty, they possess an attraction unrivalled for the antiquarian. Of the abbey church only the east piers of the central tower, a single east bay of both transepts with triforium and clerestory, the south wall of the choir, part of the south nave aisle, and the chapel of St Mary remain. The latter is situated in the north transept. The church was originally cruciform, consisting of nave with aisles; north and south transepts with north aisles (containing eastern chapels) and an apsidal east end. The abbot’s stone kitchen, octangular in shape with a pyramidical roof, and built in the 14th century by John de Chinnock, contains four huge fireplaces and is the most perfect portion left of the former magnificent monastery. The chapel of St Joseph of Arimathæa, beneath which is a large crypt, stands to the west of the church.

The fame belonging to this noble foundation exceeded that of any other great building in England. An old writer tells us, “Kings and queens, not only of the west Saxons, but of other kingdoms; several archbishops and bishops; many dukes; and the nobility of both sexes thought themselves happy in increasing the revenues of this venerable house, to ensure themselves a place of burial therein.” The story of the burial of St Joseph of Arimathæa at Glastonbury, to us a mere shadowy legend, was accepted as a fact in the early English ages, and that it figured in the mind of these worthies as endowing Glastonbury with extraordinary sanctity, is beyond doubt.

At the time of the Dissolution no corruption whatever was revealed at Glastonbury, nor any blame recorded against its management. It was still doing splendid work, having daily services and extending its educational influence for miles around. There was but scanty comfort for its inmates, who rested on a straw mattress and bolster on their narrow bedstead in a bare cell, and whose food, duties and discipline were marked by an austere simplicity. Nor were they idle, these monks of Glastonbury,—some taught in the abbey school, others toiled in the orchards, and the beauty of the stained glass, designed within the abbey walls, found fame far and wide. Richard Whiting was Abbot of Glastonbury when in 1539 Henry VIII. ordered inquiries to be made into the condition and property of the abbey. Although he recognised the monarch as supreme head of the church, he respected the Glastonbury traditions and met the “visitors” in a spirit of passive resistance. With the object of preserving them from desecration, the abbot had concealed some of the communion vessels, and for this offence the venerable man was tried, and condemned to death. His head, white with the touch of eighty years, was fixed upon the abbey gate, and the rest of his body quartered and sent to Bath, Wells, Bridgwater and Ilchester. The abbey building—one of the most perfect examples of architecture in the land—served as a stone quarry, much of the material being used to make a road over the fenland from Glastonbury to Wells. The revenue at the time of the Dissolution was over £3000, a big income in those days.

The history of Bath Abbey is tersely and comprehensively put on a brass tablet on the lower part of the screen which admits to the south aisle of the chancel. It may serve in lieu of the ordinary table of notable events concerning the abbey, for it runs as follows:—

No English county is richer in Roman remains than Somersetshire, and with only a few exceptions they are all to be found in Bath. In the early days of their occupation the Romans discovered the value of the hot springs and cleared the rough and primitive British dwellings to erect in their place a splendid city. The Roman baths, which have been unearthed quite recently, bear distinct witness to the early celebrity of the city. These remains cover but a small part of the original site, because it has been calculated the baths alone must have covered an area of seven acres, and in addition there would be the lounges, pleasure grounds, and the villas of the Roman residents. The earliest name of the city of which there is any record is Aquæ Solis—“the waters of the sun.” A temple to a British deity, Sul (thought by the Romans to be the same as their own Sol) has been found near the hot springs. When, therefore, the conquerors built their temple at Aquæ Solis they linked the name of their Goddess Minerva with the British Sul, and on the site of this temple to Sul-Minerva was erected the church of St Peter and St Paul. The nave is the only portion left of the original abbey church.

The present church is a very striking example of the late Perpendicular period—a period of straight lines and huge windows. The building, as it stands, dates from as near as possible 1500, when it was commenced by Bishop Oliver King. It was completed by Bishop Montague in 1616, and a restoration was effected by Sir Gilbert Scott in 1864. The west front, which pictures in sculpture the dream of Bishop Oliver King, is not only one of the grandest, but one of the most singular pieces of architecture in existence. The vision commemorated was one of the Holy Trinity with angels going up and down a ladder, a crown and an olive tree—interpreted by the bishop as a message to him to rebuild the church.

In the churchyard is a pump room, a classical building upwards of a century old, and bearing on its pediment a Greek inscription, the translation of which is “Best on the one hand is water.” The room was built at the suggestion of Beau Nash, the famous organiser of pleasure and the character most intimately associated with the “renaissance” of Bath. He became the uncrowned king of the city and his plans were accepted as law. When it was proposed to place a full length portrait of this “Bathoniæ elegantiæ arbiter,” as he is styled, on his monument, between small busts of Sir Isaac Newton and the poet Pope, Lord Chesterfield made fun of Nash in the oft-repeated epigram:

Among the many pithy epitaphs to be seen on the tablets and slabs inside the abbey church, one, almost hidden in the north aisle of the chancel, and written by Garrick on Quin the actor, is characteristic of the punning tendency of the time:

The ruins of this abbey church of a former Benedictine monastery stand overshadowed by the glorious Malvern hills in a beautiful valley in Gloucestershire, through which flow the Avon and Severn with two tributaries. The rich colouring of the country side and the ever varying tints of the surrounding hills make the environment of Tewkesbury one of singular beauty—a perfect setting for the abbey with its imposing Norman tower, one of the most perfect of the kind in England.

The whole building is essentially Norman in spite of the addition of Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular work. The nave of eight bays is of exceptional length, being divided from its aisles by seven massive columns and having both triforium and clerestory. The groined vaulting dates from the 14th century. There are also north and south transepts, the latter having an eastern apsidal chapel; a choir of two bays, while the ambulatory is surrounded by four polygonal chapels. The massive and lofty tower was erected in 1130. Immediately beneath it is inserted a brass to Edward, son of Henry VI., who was foully murdered after the battle of Tewkesbury in 1471. This battle, so fatal to the cause of the Red Rose, was fought in a field within half a mile of Tewkesbury, long after known as the Bloody Meadow. Many of the wounded sought refuge in the abbey, only to be dragged forth, after a few days, to their execution in the market place.

Among the many structural beauties which abound in Tewkesbury, none reflect more credit on the design and workmanship of mediæval times than the seven beautiful pointed windows of the choir. The ancient stained glass which fills in these windows is of priceless value—the purity of its colouring excelling the very best modern work. Much of the original glazing has disappeared—that which remains has occupied its place for over four and a half centuries and is a highly prized possession. The window on the north exhibits Fitz-Hamon, the Norman knight who liberally endowed the abbey at the time of its rebuilding in 1102 and was mortally wounded at the siege of Falaise.

Probably the most interesting part of the abbey church to ordinary visitors are the chapels and monuments, which suffered serious injury in the 16th and 17th centuries, but were repaired in the later centuries. Many lords of Tewkesbury, including members of the family of Clare, Despenser, and Beauchamp, are interred in the church, while on the south side of the choir are the remains of what were at one time probably the memorials of every abbot of Tewkesbury from Giraldus to John Wakeman. The Clarence vault is supposed to contain the remains of George, Duke of Clarence, who was mysteriously put to death in the Tower of London by his brother Edward IV. It is said that having been allowed to choose the manner of his death, the Duke elected to be drowned in a butt of Malmsey wine. Adjoining the church is the abbey house—formerly the infirmary of the monastery; and west of this again is the embattled gate-house, built in the 14th and 15th centuries by Abbot Parker. Tewkesbury was the last of the religious houses of Gloucestershire to surrender to the commissioners of Henry VIII. Its annual revenue at the time amounted to a sum equivalent to about £40,000 of the present day—a third of which was allotted as pensions to the abbot and monks. The present beautiful church, deemed to be superfluous and consequently ordered to be destroyed, was bought from the king by the people of Tewkesbury. It has undergone frequent restorations, no less than £25,000 having been expended on it between the years 1875 and 1892, while at the present time an effort is being made to restore the grand west front—one of the most beautiful examples of ancient church architecture in England.

More than one great artist has immortalised the secluded vale, where, on a bend of the Wye and surrounded by wooded hills, the ruins of Tintern Abbey stand. The sombre-looking heights, which close in to the east and west, create the atmosphere of loneliness and separation from the world so sought after by the Cistercian monks, who doubtless found inspiration in the grandeur of the surrounding mountains and in the peacefulness of the sweet valley below. Though the church of the Early English abbey is roofless and the central tower gone, the noble structure, with its many graceful arches, seems to attest to the spirit of religious fervour and devotion so intimately associated with the history of its grey and lichen-covered walls.

The finest part of the ruins is undoubtedly the church, which, with the exception of the roof and the north piers of the nave, still stands complete. It has a nave of six bays with aisles, a choir of four bays with aisles, the transepts with eastern aisles having two chapels. A transverse Galilee stood formerly beyond the western entrance. In the north transept are remains of the dormitory stairs, and on this side the cloisters too were situated. The aumbry, parlour, sacristy, chapter-house, slype to the infirmary, day-stairs to dormitory and undercroft were on the east side of the cloisters; the postern and river gate, over which was the abbot’s lodge on the north side, and also the buttery, refectory and kitchen. The delicacy of design and execution to be seen in the ruins is unrivalled in the kingdom—the tracery of the windows being particularly fine. The ruined church possesses the grace and lightness of architecture peculiar to the 12th century, and is, even in its decay, of truly sublime and grand proportions. Time has been unable to obliterate the skilful work of our forefathers, for the Early English transition arches, the delicate moulding, and the exquisite stone tracery in the windows still delight the eye.

The history of Tintern is almost a hidden page in the chronicles of time. On the surrender of Raglan Castle to the Cromwellian troops by the Marquis of Worcester, the Castle was razed to the ground, and with it were lost the abbey records, which had been taken from Tintern when the abbey was granted to the Marquis’ ancestor by Henry VIII. It is known, however, that the first foundation on the site was in the hands of a cousin of William the Conqueror, Richard de Bienfaite by name. He founded the abbey in 1131, and was succeeded by his nephew, Gilbert “Strongbow.” His granddaughter Isabel married the then Earl of Pembroke, and her daughter, marrying Hugh Bigod, brought the estates to the ducal house of Norfolk.

St David, patron saint of Wales, the British saint alluded to in these lines, is supposed to have been an uncle of the renowned King Arthur. With the consent of his royal nephew, St David removed the bishop’s seat from Cærlon to Menevia, founded many monasteries, and helped to further the rebuilding of Glastonbury Abbey. Although it cannot be claimed that he actually founded Llanthony Abbey still the site of his ruined cell there may have helped to influence the young Norman knight, who, passing through the lovely valley of Ewyas, was so deeply impressed and inspired by the beauty of the district that he resolved to lay aside his arms, to retire to this already consecrated spot and to devote the remainder of his days to prayer and meditation. The stillness of the ancient battlefield, the awful grandeur of the surrounding hills, and all the religious and historical associations of the place must have had at least the attraction of novelty to William de Lacy—a man of the world, accustomed to the gaiety and excitement of the court of Henry I. Not long elapsed before another courtier, Ernisius, chaplain to Queen Maud, became wearied of his many social duties, and journeying to William’s retreat, implored the hermit-knight to allow him to join in his monastic life. William and Ernisius erected a small church and enjoyed the patronage of Hugh de Lacy.

A pretty story is told in connection with the early days of the monastery. Roger, Bishop of Sarum, so vividly described to Henry I. the picturesque situation of the abbey, the devoted work performed by its inmates and the grand proportions of its church, that, shortly after, the King and Queen visited the new foundation. Pretending to finger William’s coarse robe, the kindly Queen placed some money within its folds, but shrank back hastily when coming into contact with the rough hair cloth and iron belt worn by the holy recluse round his body. In course of time the number of monks increased considerably, the rules of St Augustine were observed, and Ernisius made prior. Robert de Betun, successor to Ernisius, and later Bishop of Hereford, entered the monastery under the following romantic conditions:—Caught in a severe snowstorm on the perilous mountains, he, a young Fleming, had given up any hope of his life and was just about to succumb to the resistless longing to lie down and sleep, when, hearing the bells of Llanthony, he felt encouraged to rouse himself, and, after a terrible struggle, succeeded in reaching the abbey gate. The honour of promotion was lost sight of by Prior Robert in his heartbreaking grief at leaving his beloved monastery. Looking back on its sacred walls from the Hatterill Hills, he burst into tears at the thought of leaving all he loved best on earth. The brotherhood at Llanthony included amongst others Walter de Gloucester, Earl of Hereford and Constable of England, who laid aside all worldly honours and assuming the cowl, spent the rest of his life in the monastery. His son Milo, hearing that the monks were being attacked by the Welsh, gave them a tract of land near Gloucester in the 12th century, where the monastery was re-established and a new church built, still known however by the name of Llanthony. The monks speedily transferred their affection to their new habitation, and, according to Dugdale, despoiled their original house in Monmouthshire. “They also became very licentious in their way of living. During this, William, the prior, falling into troubles and vexation as well with the canons of his house as Roger, Earl of Hereford, the patron, was forced to resign his office, to whom succeeded Clement, the sub-prior. This man reformed the abuses that were in the monastery, especially as to the church service.” King John and Edward II. confirmed to the Canons of Llanthony the several lands and revenues given them by their benefactors, and Edward IV. merged the two foundations into one and enforced certain conditions.

Of the original abbey church only the Early English west front (flanked by two massive towers), the north side of nave, detached portions of the north transept, the complete south transept, and parts of central tower, remain. Eight pointed arches span the north side of the nave, but only two remain at the extreme ends of the opposite side. Both aisles have disappeared. The proportions of the entire foundation are noble in the extreme, especially those of the church. Here the monks adjusted the roofs so that an echo might be obtained of the singing, and throughout the building, with its spacious design and perfection of detail, every care and the greatest skill is manifested. Adjoining the south transept is the Early English chapter-house; the ruins of the refectory and guest house are now used as a garden.

THE illustrious pile of Dorchester Church stands on the northern bank of the gently flowing river Frome. From the east end of the building the land slants rapidly down to the river side, whilst on either side of the body of the church is pleasant meadow land—the former site, probably, of the conventual buildings. All that remains of these is the guest house to the west of the church. The old Saxon cathedral, used now as the parish church of a country town, is an irregular building, and consists of a nave (Norman) with a south aisle—once used by the monks as their parish church, and containing an altar raised upon three deep steps above which is a blocked-up window—choir (Decorated), having a perfect east window with a protruding central shaft, and also a “Jesse” window on the north side; south choir aisle, in which are two chapels, recently repaired by Sir Gilbert Scott; north choir aisle (part of which is probably Norman work, having a walled-up door to the west—formerly the entrance to the cloisters); a western tower, low and massive in structure and partly Norman work; and lastly, a Perpendicular porch on the south-west angle of the building. Undoubtedly the east end of the church is the most strikingly beautiful part of the edifice.

Exquisite stained glass, and perfect carving of the stone-work in the windows, graceful daintiness of the architecture, costly embroideries and delicate laces on the altars, are among the many beauties of this old abbey church. The “Jesse” window mentioned above is unique. It is of four lights and has intersecting tracery above.

The canopied sedilia and double piscina on the south wall of the chancel are both beautiful specimens of early work—the stained glass in the former being the oldest in the building. Many interesting monuments remain, including several stone effigies of knights; a judge of great note; and of Æschwine, Bishop of Dorchester, 979-1002. Monumental brasses too were formerly very plentiful, but, with a few exceptions, have been either ruthlessly destroyed or stolen for money-making purposes at various times. That of Sir Richard Bewfforest, Abbot of Dorchester (1510), dressed as an Augustine canon, lies near the chancel rails on the north side. He was one of the last abbots of the monastery. There is also part of a once magnificent brass to Sir John Drayton, 1417, a portion of another to “William Tanner, Richard Bewfforest and their wife Margaret” (1513), and one of a female figure belonging to “Robert Bedford and Alice his wife” (1491). Only a few shields of other brasses remain, but to the antiquarian the casements of these beautiful memorials contain much that is interesting, showing as they do the diverse and unique character these lost monuments once possessed. Six of the Dorchester bells bear many signs of great antiquity and two more have recently been added. The tradition connected with the former is, that

and is attributed to the belief that Birinus was “stung to death with snakes.”

As so little is standing of this religious establishment, a few words will describe its chief features. The ruins consist only of the arch of the great east window of the chapel, some foundations, bases of pillars and various other relics. The chapel, consisting of nave and chancel, is supposed to have been built, together with the house—now a farm-house peculiarly situated under the same roof as the chapel—by Ralph, the son of Geremund, for a poor hermit whom he found living in a forest cave (the cell can still be seen) close by. Subsequently Serle de Grendon invited canons from Kalke, who came then to Deepdale and established the monastery. Many privileges and immunities were granted to them by the church authorities in Rome, and the abbey was visited at different times by persons of all ranks, some of whom became benefactors to the house.

Howitt, in his Forest Minstrel, sketches the history of Dale and the conduct of its inmates thus—

But that later corruption set in among these Augustine monks is evident, for Howitt continues that the monks

They were then expelled from Deepdale and Præmonstratensian monks soon filled their place. John Staunton, last abbot, with 16 monks surrendered the abbey in 1539. A full account of the history of this monastic house was written by one of the monks, and through these manuscripts more particulars can be learned of this abbey than of any other in Derby.

Just as Buckland Abbey possesses more than an ordinary interest in that it became the home of Sir Francis Drake after the Dissolution, so Newstead Abbey boasts a dual attraction. For besides being imbued with the romance and legendary lore inseparable from monastic houses, it came, after the Dissolution of the monasteries, into the possession of the Byron family, and, passing into the hands of the first Lord Byron (1643), then to the “wicked” Lord Byron (1722-98), it eventually became the home of Lord Byron the poet. Most picturesquely placed on the borders of Sherwood Forest, the Newstead Abbey of to-day takes more the form of a private residence than of a monastic ruin. Its undulating and beautifully wooded grounds, containing two sheets of water, extend over many acres. Very little is known of the early history of the abbey beyond the fact that Henry II. built and endowed it in expiation of the murder of Thomas à Becket, and that King John extended his patronage to the house. The modern attraction that Newstead possesses dates from its coming into the hands of the Byrons. The first owner, Sir John Byron, known as “Little John with the great beard,” adapted a portion of the monastic buildings to a private residence, and in the reign of Charles I. the south aisle of the church was converted into a library and reception room.

With the exception of the exceedingly beautiful west front of Early English workmanship, the rest of the church has been allowed to fall into decay. The house itself, so greatly enriched by the poet Byron, is made up of the various monastic offices. The present grand dining-room was once the refectory of the monks, while the original guest chamber, with its grand vaulting, is now converted into the servants’ dining-hall, and the old dormitory into a drawing-room. No alteration has been made in Byron’s arrangements of the abbot’s apartments. Several rooms are still named after the English monarchs who have at various times slept in them. The chapter-house—a building of remarkable beauty to the east of the cloisters—is now used as a chapel for the convenience of the household and tenantry. Within can be seen some richly stained glass and other features of interest. Newstead passed at Byron’s death into the possession of his friend and colleague Colonel Wildman, who greatly restored it. Sir Richard Phillips, in his Personal Tour, relates that—

No more vivid picture of Newstead has been penned than that of Byron’s in the 13th canto of Don Juan—

In a certain beautiful spot in Worcestershire known as the vale of Evesham, the river Avon, by a curious bend in its course, encloses a piece of meadow land near the borders of Warwick and Gloucestershire. On this peninsula—as it might be called—three most remarkable ancient buildings still stand erect, as if immune from the ravages of time. The tall, graceful bell-tower, with the exception of a ruined archway, is all that can be said to remain of the former abbey. Built at the entrance of the abbey cemetery by the Abbot Lichfield, it is of pure Perpendicular work. Though very massive, yet it has the grace peculiar to English Gothic towers. It is built in three storeys, all parallel, and the whole square structure is crowned by an embattled parapet and delicate pinnacles, the height, roughly speaking, being 110 feet by 20 feet square. In the cemetery, close to the tower and forming with it a most striking group, are the churches of St Lawrence and All Saints. These churches were built in the 13th century by the monks for the convenience of the inhabitants of Evesham and with the intention of reserving the abbey church for the exclusive use of the monks. The church of St Lawrence is of more ancient date than that of All Saints. Of the former, only the tower and the greatly mutilated spire of the original church remain. Both churches, however, boast some exquisite work by Abbot Clement Lichfield, the last abbot, who built a beautiful chapel or chantry in St Lawrence church, desiring that daily masses might be performed there for the repose of his soul. The chantry in All Saints he directed to be his burial place. These chantries have particularly beautiful roofs in the shape of four fans richly ornamented. St Lawrence and All Saints have both been restored and are in use at the present time, under the care of the Vicar of Evesham.

In his Spiritual Quixote Graves writes with great delight of the beautiful vale of Evesham bounded by the Malvern Hills. The town lies on a hill on a well-cultivated plain, and its name, derived (some say) from Eovesham, conveys the impression of its picturesque situation, “the dwelling on the level by the river side.” Another tradition derives the name from Eoves, a shepherd who, having seen in a vision a beautiful woman, attended by two other women, hastened to Bishop Egwin and related his marvellous tale. Egwin, accompanied by his servant, proceeded to the spot where he too was permitted to see and to hold converse with the radiant being. Fully convinced that the Blessed Virgin had personally revealed herself to him, Egwin determined to build a monastery on the spot. Ethelred, King of Mercia, granted land for the purpose, and thus the abbey was founded, Egwin becoming first abbot. According to one writer, Ethelred accused Egwin of tyranny and many bitter things. The matter was referred to the Holy Father at Rome, who commanded Egwin to appear before him and answer the charges. “So to Rome he went, but before starting, to show how lowly he accounted himself, he ordered a pair of iron horse-fetters, and having put his feet into them, caused them to be locked and the key tossed into the Avon. Thus shackled, he went forward to Dover, took ship and came to the Holy City; when, lo, a miracle! his attendants had gone down to the Tiber to catch fish for supper, and scarcely was the line cast when a fine salmon took it and leapt ashore without a struggle to escape. They hurried home with their prize, opened him, and found inside the key of the bishop’s fetters. It is needless to say that the Pope after this made short work of the charges against Egwin. He was sent back to King Ethelred loaded with honours, who lost no time in restoring him to his See and appointing him tutor to his sons.”

Eighteen abbots ruled in succession, when, as was the fate of many other abbeys, Evesham became a source of strife between the secular canons and the monks. It was alternately under control of these two bodies until finally it became a Benedictine settlement. In the reign of William I., Abbot Walter of Cérisy began to rebuild on a scale of grandeur and great magnificence. The church, built in the form of a Latin cross, possessed cylindrical piers of immense size, similar to those of Gloucester. Everything appertaining to the service of the church was solemn and impressive. The vestments were elaborate and costly, and the sacred vessels wrought with solid silver—many of them being enriched with various gems. The tomb of St Egwin was made of gold and studded with sparkling precious stones, while Simon de Montfort’s tomb was credited with miraculous powers by many ailing and weakly pilgrims. These sacred tombs were demolished by the rapacious Henry VIII. in 1539, during his wanton desecration of one of England’s most noble abbeys—the shelter of kings, and the home of religious and God-fearing men.

HOW utterly incapable the most experienced writer must feel when called upon to describe worthily the abbey of Westminster! Apart from all the legendary matter connected with the noble pile, and the glamour which surrounds the ancient Benedictine church, the abbey stands out as the receptacle of all that is best and grandest in the history of England. The tombs of the kings and queens, the monuments erected since the Reformation in memory of notable men and women in literature, music, and all other arts, make history a nearer and more living thing. To pass beneath the noble west front into the sacred building, teaming with memories of the past, is to enter another world, so different is the peaceful and mysterious atmosphere within the abbey from the bustle and hum of London without. Looking eastwards from the west door, the aspect is truly inspiring and beautiful. From the graceful pointed arches, dividing the nave from the aisles, and surmounted by the triforium and clerestory, the eye falls on the choir, with its magnificent stone screen, and beyond this again to the dim and apsidal east end. The loftiness of the building, the fine triforium, the harmony of work in the nave (which took over 200 years to build), will deeply impress the beholder.

Though the plan of the church is French, the whole actual structure is an example of English Gothic work, of which the nation has every right to be proud. The abbey possesses side aisles to the nave, transepts, and choir. This is a very rare formation. Leaving the nave, filled with memorials of the illustrious dead, and passing up the south choir aisle, the south transept comes in view. The magnificent rose window is one of the largest, if not the largest, in England. On the south wall are some worn stone steps. These, no doubt, led to the domestic apartments of the monks, which were situated on the south side of the church. In this transept is the well-known “Poets’ Corner,” which contains memorials inscribed with the magic names of Shakespeare, Dickens, Tennyson, Goldsmith, Burns, Sir Walter Scott, Longfellow, Browning, Milton, and many others. Beyond this is the small chapel dedicated to St Faith. Passing on into the south ambulatory the many interesting chapels can be inspected. Here indeed the visitor treads on holy ground, for he approaches the tombs of England’s divinely-appointed rulers, and of the last resting-place of the greatest of her sons. Leaving the chapels of St Benedict, St Edmund and St Nicholas, so full of historical memory, the visitor may pass into the chantry built by the illustrious Henry V. for the repose of his soul. This chantry lies in a direct line eastwards from the high altar and beyond Edward the Confessor’s chapel, which is immediately behind the altar. The figure of the warrior King reposes on the top of his tomb. It was carved from the heart of an oak, and once possessed a head and regalia of silver. These, however, have unfortunately been removed, probably by the rapacious Oliver Cromwell. The chantry itself is in the form of a screen or small room, which is reached by a stairway enclosed in a turret, and left by another on the opposite side. The screen is covered with images of saints, and also incidents of Henry’s coronation, besides many heraldic emblems. On either side are two octagonal towers, rich in sculpture. It is indeed one of the most beautiful monuments in the building. Below are iron gates and the tomb of Henry V., and above are displayed a saddle tree stripped of its elaborate housings, a small shield, and a helmet upon which can be seen the prodigious dent caused by D’Alençon’s battle axe. These remains of Henry’s armour, worn at the battle of Agincourt, were offered by the King in thanksgiving for his great victory. It is quite fitting that the burial place of this royal hero should be near the remains of the saintly ruler and founder of the abbey, Edward the Confessor.

St Edward’s chapel is perhaps the most interesting part of the noble structure, for though comparatively small, events of the highest historical importance in our history have been enacted therein. The shrine has been visited by thousands of pilgrims, including many crowned heads, and has also been the scene of many miracles. Vigils were spent beside it by knights before setting out for the borders, or starting upon the crusades. Spoils of war were brought and laid before the tomb, and thanksgivings offered by victorious kings and warriors. Edward I., all stained as he was by the blood of the battlefield, offered the regalia of Scotland before the royal tomb, and many other mighty men came to seek consolation and encouragement in those days of dreadful warfare. Henry III. erected the present magnificent shrine in 1269. This now, alas, is shorn of the many and costly jewels that once enriched it, and which it is said amounted in value to £2500. The present oak canopy was added in the 16th century. The floor of the chapel is of tesselated blue marble and was laid by Henry III. The site of the Confessor’s altar is marked by a square of red tiles. The old coronation chair stands to the west of the chapel, near the enormous sword and shield of Edward III., and beneath it is the stone credited with being Jacob’s pillow, and which, after going through many vicissitudes in its long career, was at last brought from Scone to Edward the Confessor’s shrine by Edward I. The chair was first used at the coronation of Edward I., and lastly at that of our beloved King Edward VII. Every English monarch has been crowned at the abbey with the exception of Edward V. On all sides of the chapel are royal tombs, including those of Edward III., Henry III., and Edward I. The latter is of enormous length, and bears the inscription, “Scotorum malleus” and “Serva pactum.” This monarch—nicknamed “Longshanks”—was over 6 feet when alive. After many years, his body for some reason was disinterred for a short space, and it was found to be in an excellent state of preservation. That noble lady, Anne of Bohemia, who gained notoriety by the introduction of the side saddle, also lies buried near here.

Leaving this chapel and progressing eastwards, the visitor will pass under St Mary’s beautiful porch into the wonderful chapel built by Henry VII. This is one of the best examples of Early Tudor or debased Gothic style, and, consisting as it does of a nave with two aisles, is indeed a masterpiece of the builder’s art. On either side of the nave are the stalls of the Knights of the Garter, above which hang their respective banners. The tomb of Henry VII., the first monarch of the royal house of Tudor, is the work of Torregiano. The ornamental vaulting of the chapel is among the finest in the country—its massive pendants being 7 feet long. Little of the original glass is left, but what remains is in the windows at the west end. The Duke of Cumberland, known as the Butcher of Culloden, and George II. and his wife lie in the nave. George III. discontinued the practice begun by Henry VII. of using this chapel as a royal mausoleum, having a preference for Windsor. Those two antagonistic sisters, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth lie in the north aisle, side by side under a magnificent stone canopy, while at the extreme east end of the aisle, appropriately called “Innocents’ Corner,” are buried the remains of the young princes so foully murdered in the Tower. The tomb of Mary, Queen of Scots, is in the south aisle, together with that of Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII. Many other interesting monuments can be seen, including that of Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, Dean of Westminster, in the south-east chapel, and those belonging to the houses of Richmond, Suffolk and Lennox. Cromwell was buried in the east chapel, but his remains were disinterred and dragged to Tyburn gallows.

Retracing his steps the visitor will pass along the north ambulatory—the chapel of St Edward being now on the left and those of St Paul, St John the Baptist, and the Islip being on the right. In the latter, which is the chantry of Abbot Islip, waxen figures of some of the royal line are shown. These, though of somewhat gruesome nature, are intensely interesting, being the actual waxen casts taken after death. It was the custom to carry the figure of the deceased at the funeral and then to leave it at the abbey after interment. Many have decayed—the oldest one now on view being that of Queen Elizabeth. The figures are dressed in the clothes of the Sovereigns they personate. The lace on the neck of Charles II. is of great value. Passing into the north transept or Statesmen’s Aisle, many stone memorials again confront the beholder, and include those of Beaconsfield, Gladstone, and William Pitt. Warren Hastings, Richard Cobden and Vice-admiral Watson—the gallant man who rescued the survivors of the “Black hole of Calcutta”—are buried among many other notable men in the west aisle. The three eastern chapels of this transept contain many interesting monuments too—that of Lady Elizabeth Nightingale, in the chapel of St Michael, is perhaps the most popular. It represents her husband trying to shield her from the relentless form of Death, which takes the shape of a shrouded skeleton issuing out of a door below with a raised sword in his hand.

Progressing again towards the centre of the building, the ritual choir of three bays and the sacrarium claim the attention. The tombs here of Aveline of Lancaster, her husband Edmund Crouchbank and Aymer de Valence—all of the 13th century—are among the finest in the abbey. Near the insignificant tomb of Anne of Cleves lies Anne, wife of Richard III., and some of the abbots of Westminster. Busby and South are buried close to the altar. The mosaic pavement consists of porphyry, lapis lazuli, jasper, touchstone, alabaster, and Lydian and serpentine marbles. These were brought by Abbot Ware from Italy and arranged in the reign of Henry III. by Roderick.

An excellent view can be gained by looking west from the altar rails. The absolute sympathy of all the parts of this lovely building, the graceful arches, the diaper work in the spandrils of the choir arches, the loftiness and mysterious atmosphere of the ancient structure will appeal to all the highest aspirations of the individual. It is the temple of God, and also the shelter of those either of noble or lowly birth who have, according to their capabilities, furthered civilisation and promoted the common good; who, in fact, have done God’s work in this present world and endeavoured to make their fellow-men more worthy of the world to come. No one can enter this abbey and not be impressed by the dignity and solemnity of the surroundings. To look at the small, insignificant pulpit in the nave is nothing; but to learn that Latimer preached from it is everything. All is in keeping—nothing jars upon the artistic sense—with perhaps the exception of the numerous monuments. Still, these too have their place in showing that the mother-abbey takes into her arms all those who have worthily fulfilled the mission of their lives. The cloisters on the south side of the abbey are of great interest and contain many monuments, and the windows, too, in the south alley are remarkably beautiful. On this side are remains of the north wall of the former refectory. The chapter-house is one of the largest in England and was for many years used as a House of Commons. Earl Simon de Montfort assembled his first representative parliament here in the 13th century. The dormitory of the monastery is now used by the boys of Westminster School, founded by Queen Elizabeth, 1560.

The remote history of Westminster Abbey is enveloped in mystery, its earliest foundation being firstly ascribed to Lucius, King of Britain in the 2nd century, and secondly to Sebert, King of the East Saxons, who, in the 7th century, was converted into the Christian faith by Mellitus, an emissary of Augustine. Be this as it may, the first certain knowledge concerning the abbey is that Offa, King of Mercia, gave some lands to the monastery at Westminster in the 8th century. Nearly three hundred years had elapsed when Edward the Confessor, persuaded by the monks, was induced to build an entirely new building at an enormous cost. This, the founder determined, should be the “place of the King’s constitution and consecration for ever.” Among other gifts, the bounteous King gave rich vestments, an embroidered pall, a dalmatic, some spurs, a golden crown, a sceptre, and also confirmed all the previous endowments. The new abbey was dedicated on Holy Innocents’ day, 1065. Unfortunately the King was too ill to attend this ceremonial. He died eight days after, and was buried in front of the high altar. In the time of William the Conqueror a great synod was held in the church. Archbishop Lanfranc presided over the meeting at which the conduct and capability of the English clergy were closely examined, “yet with covert design of making room for the new-come Normans.” The Conqueror in many ways endeavoured to ingratiate himself with the newly conquered people. For this reason he was crowned in the abbey by the side of its founder’s tomb. The Feast of Edward the Confessor was observed annually with much pomp in the sacred building.

In the 13th century Henry III. began to rebuild the abbey—the choir, transepts and chapels of the present structure being entirely his work. Little remains of the Confessor’s Norman building (the first of this style built in England) except some parts of the cloisters and the Chapel of the Pyx. The trial of the Pyx took place in the former apartment until the recent removal of standard coins to the mint. The Jerusalem Chamber is also an important relic of the Benedictine monastery. It was built in 1363 by Littlington, who also rebuilt the abbot’s house. Henry IV. died within its walls. Henry V. gave the trappings of his coursers to the abbey—to be converted into vestments. In this reign the building of the nave was pushed forward and the Te Deum sung after the battle of Agincourt. Caxton set up his printing press in the almonry at Westminster during the reign of Edward IV. Henry VII. added greatly to the beauty of the building by annexing his chapel to the east end. During his reign, Skelton, the first poet laureate, sought sanctuary in Westminster, which is the last instance on record of a person claiming this right. Sir Thomas More was imprisoned in the abbot’s house in 1534—a few years before the Dissolution of the monasteries. The usual fate overtook the religious establishment at Westminster, but as in the cases of Chester, Gloucester, Peterborough, Oxford and Bristol, the monastic church was converted into a cathedral—and a new bishopric formed. Thirlby became the first Bishop of Westminster in 1540—but was translated to Norwich ten years later and the bishopric suppressed. In this transaction the abbey lost some property which came into the possession of St Paul’s Cathedral, a circumstance to which the origin of the well-known saying, “Robbing Peter to pay Paul” may be adduced. The shrine of the Confessor was re-established in 1557, the old constitution having been restored two years previously. In the reign of Elizabeth this was again annulled.

In Henry VII.’s chapel the Westminster Assembly met in the 17th century, and through their misguided energy Presbyterianism was established as the national religion for a certain time. It is impossible to say what dire effects this Assembly might have wrought upon the welfare of the country.

The Parliamentarians under Cromwell fortunately soon put a stop to those irksome restrictions.

The Bishopric of Rochester was united with the Deanery of Westminster in 1663 and, after a partnership of over a hundred years, parted at the beginning of the 19th century. The treaty of Westminster was signed in 1673. Samuel Wilberforce became the Dean in 1845. Many well-known men followed him and during the time of office of Dean Bradley, 1881-1902, Queen Victoria held her Jubilee Celebration and Edward VII. was crowned in the Abbey.

THE quiet little town of St Albans in Hertfordshire has sprung up on the site of the Roman city Verulamium, the ruined walls of which are still to be seen. Here, according to the legend, Alban, the proto-martyr of Britain, was born. Converted to Christianity by the priest Amphibalus—to whom he had given shelter—he refused to renounce his faith, and was beheaded. The martyrdom took place outside the walls of the town, on the exact site on which now stands the cathedral—formerly the abbey—of St Albans. A small church was erected on the hill a few years after St Alban’s death, and later a second church was planned in expiation of a still greater crime. Ethelbert of East Anglia had been treacherously murdered by his father-in-law, Offa, King of Mercia, who now sought to salve his conscience by building a monastery in honour of St Alban. Of this second church (the first was only a temporary shelter for the relics of the saint, which were supposed to have been miraculously discovered by King Offa) there are now but few traces. The town of St Albans lies on a high hill, while the Ver, a stream supposed to have burst forth miraculously to assuage the thirst of Alban the martyr, flows along the peaceful valley below.

The view of the massive structure of the abbey church is from all points impressive. The great length of the nave with its magnificent western front, the pinnacled transepts, the choir and Lady chapel, all crowned by the lofty castellated tower, make up a truly marvellous whole. The greater part of the church was built after the Norman Conquest by the Abbot Paul, whose uncle, Lanfranc, was first appointed abbot of St Stephen’s at Caen by William I. and afterwards made Archbishop of Canterbury. Founded on the spot where Alban was cruelly put to death, this immense monastery extended over the hill side as far as the river. With the exception of the monastery gateway, the entire conventual part was swept away at the Dissolution. Fortunately the abbey church was spared, and became, as in many other cases, the parish church of the district. Every style of architecture is shown in the building, from the time of the Normans to the reign of Edward IV. The nave is of thirteen bays with aisles; the two transepts have no aisles, and, as in the case of Westminster Abbey, the choir is west of the crossing. The presbytery and Lady chapel extend beyond the choir. The pillars of the triforium and south transept are of Saxon work and are all that remains of the 8th century church built by King Offa. The most ancient parts of the edifice are those most central, the east and west ends being of a different style of architecture and of a later period. The eastern part of the nave, the transepts and central tower, are all the work of Abbot Paul. Admirable in its proportions, the heavy Norman arches—relieved occasionally by those of Early English work—the beautiful moulding, the grand spaciousness of the whole building combine to make a grand and effective whole, while simplicity is undoubtedly the key-note of the entire structure. Although all the abbots of St Alban’s are buried here, very few of their tombs and monuments remain.

Shrines have been erected to the memory of St Alban and St Amphibalus, and in the Lady chapel lie many historical personages, including Henry Percy, Duke of Northumberland, son of Hotspur; and Lord Clifford (killed in the first battle of St Albans). Great interest attaches to the high altar screen, erected by Abbot William Wallingford in the 15th century, the chantry of Abbot Ramyge, the Holy Rood screen, the watching chamber in the south wing of the transept, and also to the window in the south aisle representing the martyrdom of St Alban, below which is the following inscription—

NEATH, a flourishing seaport in Glamorganshire, possesses some interesting features. Claiming to be built on the site of a Roman station and having some scattered remains of an ancient castle—burnt down in the 13th century—it also boasts extensive ruins of an abbey, which, if we believe Lewis Morganwg, the famous Welsh bard, must have been enriched in days past with many beauties—

Standing on the left bank of the river Neath, the ruins, now, alas, begrimed with smoke, are situated at the opening of one of the most beautiful of the Welsh valleys. There are but few monastic foundations in the Principality—the most interesting being Valle Crucis in the north and Neath in the south. Founded by Richard de Grainvilla, or Granville (a connection of the FitzHamons)—who also enlarged Neath Castle—it possessed the right of sanctuary and consequently found favour from Edward II. After undergoing many enlargements and alterations between the time of its foundation and that of the Dissolution—when it was inhabited by only eight monks,—the demesne was granted to Sir Richard Williams by Henry VIII., and in the 17th century the abbey house became the home of the Hobby family. Of this primarily Franciscan and latterly Cistercian monastery the priory house is the best preserved fragment. There is also a lengthy apartment, considered to be the remains of the chapter-house and containing a remarkable double-vaulted ceiling; but of the abbey church nothing remains except disconsolate heaps of fallen masonry.

The ruins of this Cistercian house are situated in a secluded part of Denbighshire and are both beautiful and somewhat extensive. The river Dee flows close at hand and high wooded hills shelter the crumbling walls. Fine ash trees bend gracefully over the ruined arches and with the encroaching ivy, add greatly to the picturesque beauty of the abbey. The name “Valle Crucis” (Valley of the Cross) is derived from and ancient cross, known as the “Pillar of Eliseg,” built on a tumulus just above Llangollen in the 8th century. This cross was erected by Concenn in memory of his great-grandfather Eliseg. The limestone rocks which surround it are called the Eliseg Mountains, and it is supposed by some authorities that they are named from a church which stood in a meadow below, still known as “the meadow of the church.” Five hundred years after the erection of the cross, Madoc, Lord of the Castle of Dinas Bran, established a church and monastery in this peaceful district and filled it with Cistercian monks.

The church, of which considerable portions remain, consisted of a nave of five bays with aisles, choir, and north and south transepts—each of which had an aisle and two chapels. The west front and portions of the transepts are still standing, the Early English windows in the former being of double lights and crowned in the gable above by a circular or marigold window. An inscription can be seen above the lancets recording that Abbot Adams “fecit hoc opus” Besides these fragments, some portions of the outer walls of the nave and some of the piers remain, while part of the vaulting is still intact in the east aisle of the south transept. The former chapter-house was at one time used as a farm house, but has now happily been restored to itself. It adjoins the sacristy and lies to the south of the church. Architecturally Valle Crucis is an excellent example of the Welsh type of Transition or Early English work. That there was formerly a tower can be learnt from the lines of the poet Churchyard:—

Though now practically a waste, this abbey was once a rich foundation, owning, besides a number of livings, three hundred acres of “plough land.” Much care has been taken of the ruined buildings, but the relentless hand of Time has laid so heavy a hold upon them that they are now but a shadow of their former beauty.

AMIDST the low lying hills of the vicinity, the ruins of Deer abbey still lift their shattered walls towards the sky. Founded by St Columba and his nephew, and dedicated to St Drostan, they are situated in the older portion of the parish of Deer, where the incidents related in “Sir John of the Rose” are supposed to have been laid. Of the fine building, which was formerly erected “to the glory of God,” only very little remains; but although the ruins are so scanty that they afford but little pleasure to the archæologist or the tourist, they are treasured and reverenced on account of the immense service they have rendered literature in keeping safely hidden from the ravages of time documents of great antiquity, and consequently of great value as recording the customs and mode of living of our ancestors. The manuscripts, written in Latin, were discovered in the 18th century, but little attention was directed to them until these precious fragments of monastic literature found their way to Cambridge, and in 1860 the attention of students was drawn to them by the learned librarian, Mr Bradshaw. It was then found that the small octavo of 86 pages contained St John’s Gospel, portions of the other three Gospels, the Apostle’s Creed, a fragment of an office for the visitation of the sick, and lastly, a Gælic Rubric. Some notes on the various endowments to the monastery were written on the blank sheets—evidently penmanship of the 12th century. These are of the greatest interest as being the earliest examples of Scottish Gælic known. The Gospels mentioned above were chiefly in the Vulgate version of St Jerome.

The old family of Comyn, a member of whom re-founded the abbey in the 13th century, was defeated in battle at Deer by the followers of Edward Bruce.

Situated near the Moray Firth, these few ruins, often, doubtless, the scene of warfare, owe their origin, as is so often the case, to supernatural agency. King David—a hardy and brave man, though at times relentless and cruel towards his victims—is supposed on one occasion to have lost his way while hunting in the forest, and, like many poor mortals when threatened with personal danger, to have invoked his Maker’s aid to extricate him out of his dilemma. In answer to his prayer a dove appeared and led him to the site on which subsequently he built the abbey of Kinloss, and which was in due time inhabited by Cistercian monks. About a century and a half later, Edward I., King of England, having won a decisive victory over the Scots at Falkirk, had reason again to assemble a large force—the Scots not being entirely subjugated, having gained several successes in the meantime. In 1303 he led his army over the frontier, and making the abbey his headquarters, “marched victorious from one end of the kingdom to the other.” Wallace, through the treachery of a friend, fell into Edward’s hands, but though deprived of her heroic leader, Scotland was not to be entirely overcome. Edward I., secure of success, invaded the northern country four years later, and was, as we know, attacked by a fatal illness at Berwick. His son then succeeded to the throne, but having neither the wish nor the capability to follow in his father’s footsteps, the battle of Bannockburn eventually gave Scotland her longed-for independence in 1314. Edward III. also paid a visit to this abbey in the year 1336. The abbey demesne passed after the Reformation into the possession of the Bruce family, whose ancestor, Robert, so bravely led his men to victory at Bannockburn; and, though they in turn sold it, they acquired, as Earls of Elgin, the title of baron through it.

Only the foundations of the abbey church are visible, and not a remnant of the walls remains. For this, Cromwell is to be held partially responsible. His soldiers carried away the stones of the sacred building for the purpose of erecting the Pretender’s Castle at Inverness. But that unfortunate man, on whom there is perhaps more malice and spite vented than on any other of England’s celebrities, was not altogether responsible for the present dilapidated state of the abbey, as for years, nay centuries, in common with so many other religious edifices, the building served as a quarry for all the houses and walks in the neighbourhood. Of the domestic buildings some remnants still remain, consisting of a cloister wall, two arches, a prior’s house and part of a dwelling-house.

As is so often the case in regard to various abbeys, the mutilated remains of this conventual church, once belonging to the Præmonstratensian monastery, founded at Fearn in the 13th century, are now appropriated for the religious worship of the inhabitants of the town—the nave, chancel, and two side chapels (all of the Early English period), being converted into the parish church of the district. The abbey, curiously enough, was originally founded at Edderton, twelve miles to the north-west, but was subsequently placed in its present position, owing, it is thought, to the fertility of the soil. It was built by Farquhar, first Earl of Ross. Patrick Hamilton, the noted Scotch reformer of the 16th century, was abbot there. He and George Wishart—both ardent followers of John Knox—were burnt at the stake for heresy during the primacies of Archbishop Beatoun, and his successor.

It may be of interest to follow the various stages of Scottish religion from early Celtic times until the Reformation.

In consequence of all this disturbance, many beautiful churches in Scotland were destroyed. To take a solitary case—that of the Carthusian monastery at Perth, which succumbed to the violent attacks of the Reformers in 1559. In this year John Knox returned to Scotland, and urging on his men, who were on the point of defending Perth by force of arms, prevailed upon them to destroy the ornaments, stained glass and statuary of every church in the place, and finally to demolish the monastery. Scott writes: “The example of the reformers in Perth was followed in St Andrews and other places; and we have to regret that many beautiful buildings fell a sacrifice to the fury of the lower orders, and were either totally destroyed or reduced to piles of shapeless ruins.” After the disastrous fall of the roof in 1742 when forty-four persons were killed, the abbey was repaired without the slightest regard to architectural propriety, with unusually unfortunate results. The style is mixed, the doors being round and the windows pointed. Both on the north and south are small chapels which at first sight bear the appearance of transepts. In the south chapel, now the Shandwick burial ground, is a recumbent figure, under a handsomely carved canopy, long supposed to be that of an abbot, but afterwards ascertained to represent a lady of the clan MacKenzie, with a veil over her face. A most peculiar feature of this abbey is the fact that these monastic ruins are simply the result of the fanatic rule of John Knox.

The low ground on which this abbey stands was once surrounded by water and known as Insula Missarum, or the “island of the masses.” Now, however, it is connected with the mainland and is the property of the noble house of Kinnoul. The records show that many brave men held the office of abbot in this Augustine establishment, in fact that their spirit in some instances was of a very warlike nature. Maurice, the abbot of the period, fought with Bruce at Bannockburn with the arm of St Fillan in a silver casket, a relic to which tremendous importance was attached in those days. It is recorded that many of the dour superstitious Highlanders ascribed their sweeping victory to the presence among them of this precious relic. To the enlightenment and progress of the 19th century the final destruction of this abbey—so nearly total in its effects—is to be attributed; for when the authorities of the district deemed it advisable in 1816 to make a new road in the vicinity of the abbey, the ruined, sacred walls were ruthlessly overthrown, hardly a vestige being left beyond an arched apartment, a gable at the west end of the church, and several other fragments.

About two and a half miles from Stirling, and on the north side of the river Forth, lying in one of the many creeks formed by that winding river, is the abbey of Cambuskenneth. All that can be seen now in the green fields, with cows quietly grazing by the river sides, is a sheltered tower of grey stone, the sole remains of what was once a large ecclesiastical house. In 1864, great and important excavations were made, disclosing the foundations of the chancel, nave, transept and chapter-house, showing them to have been of a very considerable size. A few feet from the only remaining part of the abbey is the tomb of James III. and his queen, the Princess Margaret of Denmark. The tomb is railed in and bears this inscription:—

Cambuskenneth at its zenith was an abbey of some importance in Scotland—a great many events of interest and national significance taking place there. As far as politics were concerned, the abbey was by far the most important in Scotland; indeed, so much was it used as a house of government that a new apartment had to be built called “Parliament Hall.” It was here that the first Scottish representative Parliament ever called together met by the order of Robert Bruce in 1324. The abbey was of the order of St Augustine, dedicated to the Virgin, and was founded by David I. in 1147 as St Mary’s of Stirling. This same king, the founder of Melrose Abbey, endowed the abbey with land and extensive property. In 1201 its name was changed to St Mary’s of Cambuskenneth, a battle having been fought on its site by King Kenneth against the Picts. In 1304, at the Feast of St Barnabas, the secret agreement took place between Robert Bruce and William Lamberton, Bishop of St Andrews, which decided the former to rise in rebellion against English power in Scotland. When the abbey was pillaged and set fire to by Richard II. in 1385, the revenues of the church would not admit of the extensive repairs necessary to restore it to its former state. About the year 1559, at the Reformation, the abbey was demolished and plundered again. The land and See of Cambuskenneth were handed over by Queen Mary to the Erskine family in the year 1562. One of the family of the Earl of Mar took stone from the abbey with which to build his house in Broad Street, thereby leaving the demolished church stripped of anything that could signify to its former pomp and influence.

A few fragments of walls, a gateway and a noble and substantial tower are all that is left of the grand old building. From the summit of the tower, which is approached by a well-preserved staircase, the imposing rock and castle of Stirling may be seen, which, in olden days, safeguarded the lives of the valley dwellers, as did the abbey of Cambuskenneth their religious interests.

THE imposing group of buildings which constitute Holyrood Palace lie on a piece of meadow land at the foot of an eminence known as Arthur’s Seat, on the outskirts of Scotland’s metropolis. Though the greater portion of it was the former home and dwelling-place of kings, and its walls connected with many domestic associations, there is a smaller and comparatively insignificant part, which not only has been the scene of several royal coronations and marriages, but before these ever took place was the abode of Augustine canons in the 12th century. This, the only remaining fragment of the monastery founded by David I., is now known as the chapel royal, the ruined shell of which it is pitiful to behold.

The abbey was founded by David I. Such a prince required no special intimation from heaven to prompt him to found a religious house under the shadow of a fortress where he himself resided. A miraculous interposition, however, on behalf of the king himself, when prostrate under the antlers of a “wild hart,” has been assigned as the immediate cause of the foundation of the abbey. Bellenden, the translator of Bone, relates that the event happened in the “vail that lyes to the Eist fra the said castell, quhare now lyes the Cannogait,” and which at that time was part of “Ane gred forest full of hartis, hyndis, toddis, and siclike manner of beistis.” As David was pursuing the hunt with ardour, a hart rushed at him, dashing both him and his horse to the ground with great violence. David threw both hands between the antlers of the stag to save himself from the blow when “the holy croce slaid incontinant in (into) his hands.” The wild deer fled in dismay at the sight of the sacred emblem to which it seemed about to do violence; and the king, being afterwards admonished in a dream, resolved to dedicate a house to the “Holy Rude,” the Virgin and All Saints on the very spot where “he gat the croce.” A far more likely reason for the founding of the abbey is that David built it as a repository for the fragment of the true cross brought by his mother, St Margaret, from Waltham Abbey. As in the case of many another foundation, kings and princes frequently claimed hospitality from their religious brothers; and though the monastic cellars and larders may not have boasted the delicacy and sumptuousness of a royal kitchen, their illustrious visitors would doubtless be quite content with the homely fare and good cheer offered them. This was repeatedly the case at the monastery at Holyrood, and the custom being that each visitor should present an oblation to the patron saint of the house, the monks had always the wherewithal to compensate themselves for the necessary outlay.

In the abbey church there were several chapels and altars dedicated to various saints. The Lady chapel was, as usual, in the choir at the back of the high altar, and we read of another called “the abbot’s chapel.” There were two altars, one dedicated to the Holy Cross, and another called the “Parish altar.” In the southern chapel adjoining the high altar, were those of St Andrew and St Catherine, founded by George Creichton, Bishop of Dunkeld; while there were altars dedicated to St Stephen, St Anne, St Crispin and St Crispinian. Royal patronage and favour continued to be shown, and in course of time the town became the acknowledged capital, while during the reign of James IV. the palace was begun. On its completion it became the favourite home of the Scottish royal house until James II. of England was driven from his throne at the time of the Revolution. Within the walls of the conventual church, renovated as the chapel royal by James VI., many high ceremonials took place. Several monarchs with their queens were crowned there, and it was also the place of interment of various royal and notable persons. Among these were David II., James II., James V., and the foolish Darnley, to whom Mary, Queen of Scots, plighted her troth, at the east end of the present church.

It is necessary to remember that the ruins only consist of the original nave, and though not of large proportions, they are well worthy of careful reverential inspection, for the decaying walls show workmanship of a very high architectural order, chiefly of the period of transition between the passing Romanesque and the coming Gothic Early English. The north wall of the north aisle, with two shattered piers, and the south aisle with all its columns still remain standing. The eastern ends of the two aisles—where they formerly communicated with the transepts—are filled up with windows, each resting on a wall. This is also the case with the east end of the wrecked building, for the present east window is modern, having taken the place of one which was blown in in the year 1816, and which had previously filled the arch of the great central tower, destroyed with the transepts and choir in the 16th century. Some considerable evidences are visible of earlier work at the east end of the south aisle beyond the mass of masonry which marks the royal vault. Here a walled-in doorway, which once communicated with the cloister, is of Norman work of not later than 1160, having a round headed arch with zig-zag and billet moulding. The masonry adjoining it is evidently of the same period. Again a more developed Early English style is shown in the exterior of the noble west façade which consists of a deeply recessed portal, having eight shafts on either side with elaborate mouldings and two peculiar windows above, in character somewhat allied to the Perpendicular. Over the doorway is the following inscription bearing the date of Charles I:—

He shall build ane house
for my name, and I will
stablish the throne
of his Kingdom
for ever.

BASILICAM HANC SEMI
RUTAM CAROLUS REX
OPTIMUS INSTAURAVIT
ANNO DONI
CIↃ I^ↃXXXIII.

The seven buttresses which support the south wall from the outside were built by Abbot Crawfurd in the 15th century. Of the entire range of conventual buildings devoted to the domestic uses of the canons, not a vestige has been left. It is concluded, however, that the wall of the south aisle of the nave of the church, and the west wall of the adjoining transept formed, as was not uncommon in monastic edifices, two sides of the great cloister, leaving the others to the chapter house, refectory, and other principal apartments of the establishment. Doorways led into the cloister from the eastern and western extremities of the south aisle, one of these entrances being still in excellent preservation. The existing royal palace undoubtedly covers to a great extent the site of the domestic buildings of the abbey; but a large portion of these extended further towards the east than any part of the present great quadrangle. The choir and transepts of the abbey church have, as we have already seen, also disappeared, and the nave as it now stands, ruined and roofless, is itself almost the sole record of that which is gone—that sacred edifice which, when entire, was an august and magnificent building.

In a sunny little glade, fringed around by great oaks, clothed in verdure and luxuriant foliage, and reposing midst an almost unnatural calm, all that is left of this Præmonstratensian abbey basks in the sun. Trees not only shade it from without but also from within,—actually growing out of the walls themselves. Dryburgh, signifying “oak growth,” is a town in Berwickshire delightfully situated amidst varied scenery, a few miles only from Kelso and Melrose. A convent was founded here in the 6th century, and, on its site, St Mary’s Abbey for White canons was built in the 12th century. The ruins are beautiful both in situation and construction. Flowing past them, the Tweed takes a crescent-like course and engirts the woods in which the red walls of the abbey stand. A suspension bridge spans the river and a sloping wooded lawn stretches away in front of the ruins.

Despite its terrible treatment in the 16th century by Bowes, Layton and the Earl of Hertford, the conventual church survived. The chapter-house is even yet practically entire, and the principal portions of the buildings can be traced. The plan of the church was cruciform, having a presbytery instead of a Lady chapel, a fragment of which is yet standing. There were aisles to nave and choir, while the transepts, which extended only one bay beyond the line of the nave, had each an eastern aisle. Early English work is evident in the choir and transepts, and that of the Early Decorated period in the nave. Connecting the south transept to the chapter-house, is the chapel of St Modanus—so called after an abbot of that name who lived in the 6th century—which still preserves its altar and sedilia, and is lighted by two round-headed windows. A double circle marks the founder’s grave in the chapter-house, above which is a large room. Other parts of the domestic buildings are still in existence—such as the kitchen, refectory and dormitories—all of the Norman Transitional period—besides remnants of the porter’s lodge, dungeon cells and cloisters.

With regard to the founding of this abbey, it is thought that the early work is probably a part of the original construction provided for by Hugo de Morville, Lord Lauderdale, and his wife, Beatrix de Beauchamp, in 1150. The new church is particularly interesting inasmuch as it shows how the Scots still held to the round arch long after the remainder of their architecture had become thoroughly Gothic in character, for not only is the 13th century door of the monks built with a round arch, though with purely Gothic mouldings and capitals, but the 14th century west door, built after the burning of the abbey by Richard II., is the same.

Dryburgh has been associated with many men eminent in their own walk of life: Abbot Oliver, Royal ambassador to England; Canon Patrick, poet and man of letters; Ralph of Strode, Chaucer’s friend and Wycliffe’s antagonist; Chaucer himself, and then a line of commendators, the last of whom was James Strail, who tried in vain to stem the tide of simony, sacrilege, and depredation that was engulfing the Scottish Church. In 1545 the great blow fell. Henry VIII. gave to Sir Ralph Eure, Sir George Bowes, and Sir Brian Layton a feudal grant of the land they had the year before devastated and laid waste. Thereupon these chivalrous and noble gentlemen, Eure and Layton, forthwith journeyed into Scotland at the head of a formidable host eager to seize on their “lawful lands.” They swept the south of Scotland with fire, burning anew Melrose, Kelso, Dryburgh and four other abbeys, sixteen castles, five great towers and 243 villages. Retribution awaited them, however, for on Ancrum Moor they were attacked by a brave body of patriotic Scotchmen under the Earl of Angus, Norman Lesly, and Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch, all eager to avenge their wrongs. The battle ended in a complete victory for the Scots, the entire English force being utterly routed. Eight hundred were killed, more than a thousand captured, and the villains Eure and Layton left dead on the field of battle. Dryburgh Abbey was indeed lost, but its despoilers were vanquished, and to-day the remnants of this once stately pile tower rise towards the sky in mute protest against the frenzied outrage of the favourites of a dishonoured royal house.

BY moonlight or starless dark, by dusk or full daylight, Melrose Abbey is a thing of beauty and romance. Built on the site of an ancient Columban monastery, the abbey, colonised by monks from Lindisfarne, flourished until the Reformers, instigated by John Knox, demolished it with many other religious houses.

The remains of this most beautiful structure of the Scottish Middle Ages are considerable, and demonstrate the former architectural beauties of the abbey. They consist of parts of the church and cloister. Of the former three bays of the nave, eight small chapels, with elegant traceried windows to the south of the south aisle, a portion of the central tower, and the transepts of the choir remain. Many architectural styles are shown, and a curious mingling of the old with later Decorated work is a noticeable feature. The arches which divide the nave from its aisles are remarkably beautiful and many excellent windows light the church. Those in the nave are Perpendicular, while the trefoiled four-light windows in the choir and presbytery are Decorated or Early Perpendicular. Some of the vaulting still remains in the south aisle and also above the site of the high altar. This edifice was originally 215 feet long by 116 across the transepts. Joanna, wife of Alexander II.; the “wondrous Michael Scott”; and Sir David Brewster are buried here, and the heart of the hero, Robert Bruce, is interred beneath the site of the high altar. The cloister, containing some wonderfully rich carving of exquisite workmanship, was placed on the north side of the nave, and beyond, the garden extended to the river bank, a quarter of a mile distant.

Of the Anglo Saxon monastery founded in Melrose in 635, comparatively little is known. St Cuthbert, then a dreamy shepherd boy, imagined he saw a vision of angels carrying a soul to heaven, and hearing subsequently that Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, had died that same night, was convinced that he had been privileged to see his saintly soul. Wishing to join a religious community St Cuthbert went to the monastic settlement at Melrose, then consisting only of a few log huts, joined the brotherhood there (A.D. 651), and in course of time became its prior. Bede says—

When the mother abbey of Lindisfarne required a new prior, Cuthbert was appointed, and after fulfilling his religious duties here for twelve years retired to an island to live the life of a recluse. After eight years had elapsed he became Bishop of Lindisfarne, where at the end of three years’ work he was buried. His shroud was made by the abbess of Tynemouth, and his tomb visited for many years by hundreds of pilgrims. When in 875 Lindisfarne was attacked by the Danes the monks fled for safety, carrying with them the relics of St Cuthbert, and, after visiting many places, in the hope of escaping the enemy, placed them finally in the woods of Durham. The humble church, which in course of time was built there to guard the sacred remains, preceded the present magnificent cathedral of Durham “half church of God, half citadel, ‘gainst the Scots.” In the meantime the settlement of Melrose had prospered, but in 839 was burnt down by Kenneth MacAlpine and remained a desolate ruin for nearly two centuries. Good King David I. “that sair saunt for the crown,” then founded the abbey, in which for several centuries the Cistercian monks laboured—cultivating the land and instituting law and order amongst the country folk of the district.

Dire as was the fate of the English abbeys, that of the Scottish religious houses was immeasurably more bitter. Robbed, ruined, sacked and burned, the once mighty edifices have fallen the prey to thrifty citizens, who, careful of their own future, assigned to themselves various portions of the land and buildings, with the result that in close proximity to many of these buildings, modern and inartistic huts, workshops and inns may be seen. Melrose is particularly unfortunate in these vandalisms. Incredible as it may seem, the Abbey Hotel actually encroaches upon the hallowed nave, and a great amount of the space occupied by the former grounds and buildings is now disfigured by cheap dwellings and crowded gardens. The local presbytery of 1618 deserve even more contumely for their hideous disfigurement of the three bays of the nave that still remained, which were rebuilt, and walled in in most ruthless fashion.

The wonderful charm of Melrose Abbey as a building is not its only feature. The remains lie here of King Alexander II. and his spouse; Douglases without number; and many other men and women who have loomed largely in the history of our island. A few of the numerous statues that adorned the walls still remain, although many were destroyed by the Presbyterians. A certain zealot climbed in 1649 to the buttress pinnacle to shatter the statue of our Lady with the Holy Child, upon which the first fragment split off, struck, and broke his arm. Since then the image has been left in peace. Strangely prophetic words are uttered in the inscriptions written in abbreviated Latin words on scrolls borne by monks in the south transept, “He suffered because He Himself willed it” and “When comes Jesus the Mediator, darkness will cease.”

Standing on the bridge of five arches which spans the Tweed at Kelso, a magnificent view can be gained of this picturesque town on the northern bank, with

the ruins of its abbey beautifully situated in a well-wooded valley; also of the fast decaying walls of Roxburgh castle on the south bank, once the stronghold of that old town and demolished in 1460; of Fleurs Palace; the heights of Eildon and Mellerstain, and the confluence of the Tweed and Teviot. Kelso has risen in importance since the destruction of its neighbouring town, and has frequently suffered from pillage and fire during the English invasions. In 1715, the Pretender was proclaimed as King James VIII. by the forces assembled here.

The ruined abbey church, a somewhat heavy, massive-looking structure, indicative of strength and of almost baronial character, still holds part of its great central tower aloft, and is an excellent example of Norman work, both Early and Transitional. The church alone survives the many violent attacks made upon the abbey in the 16th century, and was originally cruciform, having a nave of only two bays, north and south transepts of two bays, a choir of three bays with aisles, and a magnificent central tower of two stories. Of this characteristic Norman building only a shattered western front, one bay of the nave, two bays of the choir, the west and south sides of the tower, and both transepts remain. The faces of the latter resemble the west front, which was flanked by pilaster buttresses, and crowned with octagonal turrets. Though chiefly of unadorned simplicity, the church contains in some places rich mouldings, including some of foliage design, and possesses a lightness of character in parts, showing the coming influence of Early English architectural art.

The siege and capture of the abbey in 1545 by the Earl of Hertford is a fine rousing story of Border warfare. After repulsing attack after attack, the defenders made a final stand in the church itself, but were finally overpowered by weight of numbers, and slaughtered, with the exception of two or three monks, who retreated to the topmost platform of the tower, which they kept all night. These doughty “men of peace” somehow or other managed to escape next day. This of course settled finally the fate of the abbey, and from that day to this, it has been put almost exclusively to a series of degrading purposes—from a barracks to a stable. Nevertheless, Kelso is unique and priceless as an example of a castellated Border church as it was in the 12th century.

Jedburgh, one of the most noted of old Border towns, is now the chief town of Roxburghshire. It lies on the banks of Jed Water and enjoys a sheltered situation amidst the wooded hills and rocky eminences which enclose this vale, the Scottish Arcadia, on every side. After the union of the two kingdoms, Jedburgh became the centre of an extensive contraband trade, which was however eventually checked by the English excise. The picturesque market town once possessed a stately castle and abbey, but though the former building (of which nothing remains) has been replaced by a massive gaol, known as the Castle of Jedburgh, only the church is left of the latter most beautiful fabric. This building is fortunately complete, with the exception of the south transept and the greater portion of the choir.

Of grand proportions, yet of severe simplicity, the church displays some fine decoration in its flowered capitals and beautiful mouldings. Portions of the

choir and tower are evidently Early Norman work, while later styles are seen in the great nave of nine bays, composed of a combination of Transitional Norman and English Gothic, and again in the unspoiled north transept of Decorated character. The nave is 130 feet in length, having above the triforium a clerestory consisting of a magnificent arcade of lancets. Two doorways to the west and south are excellent examples of Norman work, but the former, with its deep carvings of the most delicate workmanship, is the better specimen. The arches of the tower (86 feet high) are richly clustered and chevroned at the edges; indeed, so exquisitely wrought and beautiful are some of the decorative mouldings of the church, that the work is attributed by many to an Italian artist. The north transept is aisleless, and possesses a large window of four lights filled with geometrical tracery.

Jedburgh was another of the many holy institutions founded by David I. of Scotland, although, technically speaking, it owed its existence to Lord Lauderdale, then Constable of Scotland. King David, however, was doubtless the moving spirit in the project. Jedburgh was a priory at first, but in 1147 it was raised to the dignity of an abbey with Osbert as first abbot. From this date henceforth the abbots of Jedburgh held high places in the kingdom. Unfortunately for the abbey, and still more so for the town, Jedburgh lay right in the track of every army crossing the Border from the other side, and was therefore sacked and burnt again and again by the English. In 1296, Sir Richard Hastings was the ravager; in 1464, the Earl of Warwick; in 1524, the Earl of Surrey; and last of all, Lord Eure in 1544, who, acting for the Earl of Hertford, did his disgraceful work all too well. The commendator at the time, one John Hume, restored the burned abbey to a certain extent, but during the reign of the Presbyterians the building fell steadily into decay. The story of the abbey in the last century is one of bickerings and lawsuits, until in 1875 the Marquis of Lothian, sickened at the sight of the degradation of this great relic, built a new church, since when the abbey church has not been used for public worship. Jedburgh Abbey has fallen on gentle days, and the ruins stand now dignified, solemn, self-respecting and secure, safe in the honourable custody of the Marquises of Lothian.

ANOTHER abbey, situated quite near Sweetheart, is Lincluden, at one time a favourite haunt of Burns, and beautifully described by him in his lines, “An evening view of the ruins of Lincluden.” The ruins, consisting of the provost’s house, the chancel and part of the south wall of the church, afford indications only of the former splendour of the pile. Originally a nunnery, Archibald of Douglas changed the establishment into a college for a provost and twelve canons. Archibald married the daughter of Robert III. This lady’s grave may be seen in the chancel, and though mutilated, still bears evidence of considerable elegance. It is in the form of an arch beautifully sculptured, with the heart of Douglas guarded by three chalices crosswise and a star near each in the centre.

In the choir also are several sedilia with pointed foliated arches, and over the sacristry door on the south side a colossal foliated trefoil. Though these features may be somewhat out of proportion to the size of the choir, they suggest larger dimensions, and if they had had more elevation and space around would have been seen to greater advantage. Besides the south transept only a tower and some scanty portions of the nave remain of this minster that once measured 216 feet long by 16½ feet broad.

As in the case of Sweetheart Abbey, there is little of historical or legendary interest associated with Lincluden—its popularity with the public being due to its beautiful and sheltered situation and to its associations with Robert Burns.

1275, Founded by Lady Devergoil.

Sweetheart Abbey, a beautiful structure, stands a little westward of the mouth of the Nith in a lovely and sheltered nook at the base of Criffel, the most southerly mountain in Scotland. Only the church, a fine cruciform building with a central saddleback tower of 92 feet, and part of the chapter-house are now left. In the aisle of the south transept (the only part of the abbey that is roofed) is a groined wall with shields for bosses, on one of which are the abbey arms. A beautiful rose window at the east end of the church is by far the most interesting remaining feature of the abbey. The church, as it was after its foundation, does not seem to have been of much importance either ecclesiastically or politically and has therefore scarcely any history attached to its name. The abbey was founded in 1275 by Lady Devergoil, wife of John Baliol and mother of the Scottish king of that name, who also built the bridge and monastery at Dumfries. It was called at first New Abbey in contradistinction to the old abbey at Dundrennan. Its name, however, was changed later to Sweetheart because of a story told about its foundress and her husband. The Lady Devergoil was supposed to have had her husband’s heart embalmed and enclosed in an ivory box, and at the lady’s death this box was placed inside her tomb. Over the tomb may be seen this epitaph in Latin—

The ruins of the abbey were repaired in 1852 by means of a subscription raised among the gentry of the district, and augmented by a grant from Parliament.

The largest and most important of Scottish abbeys is to be found near the greatest manufacturing centre of the country. Of Paisley Abbey, a house of great historical interest and very large and beautiful in its proportions, the only remains now standing are the nave and transept of the church and the adjoining Lady chapel. The transept is an interesting ruin, but the nave is entire and is still used as the church of the abbey parish, after having been restored at great price. The interior is of magnificent altitude, exhibiting three tiers of arches, partly pointed and partly semicircular, with cinque foiled arches formed within them. Many quaint images and inscriptions are to be seen on its walls, one of which, relating to George Schaw, the abbot, who in 1485 built a large wall to enclose the buildings and the land belonging to them—

The line in brackets is not quite intelligible but it is supposed to be “Pray for his salvation.”

The great western door, which is pointed and deeply recessed, with rich mouldings, is surmounted by three windows with superb tracery. The Lady chapel to the south is interesting on account of its echoes, which, owing to recent alterations, are not so pronounced as formerly. In this part of the chapel, generally called the sounding aisle, is the tomb of Margory Bruce, wife of Robert Bruce, and mother of the founder of the abbey. The cloisters, 68 feet square, were also on the south side of the abbey, but the domestic buildings have almost disappeared. The abbey, founded by Walter, the first of the Stuarts, in 1164, was tenanted by a colony of Cluniac monks from Shropshire. At that time the area of the abbey grounds was about one mile, the space unoccupied by the church and other buildings being used as orchard and park land.

In the case of Dunfermline, the Westminster Abbey of Scotland, the most ancient, and consequently the most interesting part of the building has survived the onward tread of many centuries, and though now only in the form of a vestibule to the modern church, was once the nave of the minster founded here in the 11th century. Its architectural features somewhat resemble those of Durham and Lindisfarne with their stern Norman characteristics. It is of eight bays with massive pillars (20 feet high by 13 feet 6 inches in circumference), some of which are spirally channelled, while two have chevron mouldings, it has also a very rich Norman north door, some Early English windows in the aisles, and a triforium and clerestory composed of round headed arches. The nave was the first piece of Norman work in Scotland, and from the 16th to the 19th century was used as the parish church of the district. The sound of an organ was heard for the first time in Scotland within its walls. The west front (Decorated) has a fine recessed portal with a four light window with Geometrical tracery above. The western towers and north west porch are also of the Decorated period, while the presbytery is entirely Early English work. An interesting feature of the newly erected modern Gothic church is the balustrade on the tower which covers the site of Bruce’s grave (discovered during the recent rebuilding of the church), and has terminals in shape of letters reading “King Robert the Bruce,” “a modern apotheosis of the murderer of Comyn by men who cannot tolerate the Cross, the symbol of salvation.” Of the other buildings, only the south wall and west gable of the refectory, the gate-way with the “pended” tower, and some portions of the abbot’s lodge remain. Beneath the refectory are twenty-six cells.

The ancient mitred abbey measured 276 feet by 66 feet, was cruciform and of mixed architectural periods. For many centuries Dunfermline was the frequent residence of Scottish monarchs, and for more than two centuries the kings were buried within its walls; notably the royal Founder, King Edgar, Alexander I., Alexander III., David I. and Malcolm IV. The monks had great influence in the neighbourhood and the monastery was richly endowed.

Dunfermline, the “City of Fife,” stands on a long swelling ridge above the Forth, and, viewed from the south with its background of Cleish hills, presents a most striking aspect.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, Y

ABEN, a fugitive, 84
Aberac, Celtic name of York, 34
Adam, abbot of Meaux, 61
Adams, abbot of Valle Crucis, 167
Adeliza, Queen, 83
Adrian IV., Pope, 161
Ældred, abbot of Rievaulx, 49
Agatha, St, 50, 52
Aidan, St, 5, 17, 18, 187
Aifwardus, abbot of Evesham, 147
Ailesbury, Earls of, 44, 45
Aislabie, William, 63
Alban, St, British martyr, 2, 27, 161, 162, 163, 164
Albert, archbishop of York, 36
Albini, Gundreda de, 42, 43
Alcuin, schoolman of York, 34
Aldhelm, St, 7, 88, 89, 124
Aldwius, bishop of East Anglia, 112
Alexander, abbot of Kirkstall, 74
Alexander II., Pope, 112
Alneto, Robertus, hermit of Hode, 42
Amphibalus, St, 161, 163
Anselm, abbot of Bury St Edmunds, 115
Aragon, Catherine of, 78
Archibald, St, 6
Ardern, Thomas, 78
Arimathea, St Joseph of, 1, 122
Arthur, King, 2, 122, 123, 124, 135
Arviragas, King, 122, 123
Aschewine, bishop of Dorchester, 140
Asser, Bishop, 98
Athanasius, St, 1
Athelstan, King of Wessex, 37, 78, 89
Aucherius, abbot of Reading, 82
Augustine, St, 1, 4, 98, 99, 122, 151
Auxerre, city of, 3, 57, 58

BALDWIN, abbot, 112
Baliol, Robert, 189
Baliol, Edward, 178
Baliol, John, 195
Baliol, Bernard de, 20
Bauzan, Richard, 104
Beatoun, archbishop, 172
Beauchamp, Beatrice de, 184
Bede, the Venerable, 7, 22, 23, 24
Bedford, Robert, (tomb), 141
Bellenden, Robert de, 178
Benedict, St, 58
Bennet, William, prior of Finchale, 26
Bernard, St of Clairvaux, 49, 64
Berthwald, King, 88
Betun, Roger de, bishop of Hereford, 136
Bewfforest, Sir Richard, abbot of Dorchester (tomb), 141
Bewfforest, Richard (tomb), 141
Bienfaite, Richard de, 133, 134
Bigod, Hugh, 134
Bigod, Roger, 134
Birinus, St, 5, 139, 141
Bird, prior of Bath, 128
Biscop, Benedict, 6, 22, 23
Biwell, Walter, chaplain to Bernard de Baliol, 20
Blois, Henry de, 94, 95, 122
Bohemia, Anne of, 155
Bonham, Sir William, 178
Boreham, Richard, abbot of St Albans, 161
Bowes, Sir G., 182, 183, 184, 189
Bradley, abbot of Fountains, 63
Bradley, Dean, 160
Brandon, Charles, Duke of Suffolk, 13, 115
Breton, Bishop J., 122
Brewster, Sir David, 187
Brittany, Alan of, Earl of Richmond, 34
Bronescombe, Walter de, bishop of Exeter, 104
Browne, Sir Anthony, 79
Bruce, Robert, 174, 176, 187, 189, 198
Bruce, Edward, 170
Burgh, Hubert de, 111
Byron, Sir J., 13, 143, 144

CÆDMON, Anglican poet, 7
Cæsar, Claudius, 1
Cæn, Paul de, abbot of St Albans, 161
Canmore, Malcolm, 197
Canute, King, 9, 114
Caradercus, Duke of Cornwall, 124
Caractacus, 1, 124
Carnaby, Sir R., 21
Cavendish, Lord Frederick, 71
Caxton, William, 159
Cérisy, Walter of, 147, 149
Chad, St, 6
Chamberlayne, Edward, 178
Chantry, Bishop Rogers, 98
Chaucer, Geoffrey, 184
Cheney, Sir T., 77, 78
Chinnock, John de, 126
Christina, abbess of Romsey, 95
Chrysostom, St, 1
Claughton, Thomas Leigh, bishop of St Albans, 161
Clement, Abbot, 98
Clifford, Henry, Earl of Cumberland, 71
Clinton, Lord Edward, 109
Coel, king of Britain, 124
Columba, St, 17, 169
Comyn, William, Earl of Buchan, 169
Constantine the Great, 27
Corbeuil, William de, archbishop of Canterbury, 76
Cowley, Abraham, 82
Crawfurd, Abbot, 178, 182
Cromwell, Oliver, 89, 108
Cromwell, Secretary, 21
Curteys, abbot of Bury St Edmunds, 116
Cuthbert, St, 6, 17, 18, 187, 188
Cynegils, king of Wessex, 5, 139

DACRE, Lord, 189
Darnley, Lord, 180
David, St, 135
Davell, Henry, abbot of Whitby, 54
Denmark, Margaret, princess of, 175, 178
Denny, Sir A., 117, 119
Dent, William, abbot of St Mary’s, York, 34
Devergoil, Lady, 195, 196
Devonshire, Amicia, Countess of, 103
Diocletian, Emperor of Rome, 2, 27
Douglas, Archibald, Earl of, 194
Douglas, Margaret, Countess of, 195
Drake, Sir Francis, 103, 104, 143
Drayton, Sir J. (tomb), 141
Dromore, bishop of, 50
Drostan, St, 169
Dunstan, archbishop of Canterbury, 8, 125

ECGFRID, king of Northumbria, 20, 22
Edmund, St, king and martyr, 7, 112, 124
Edmund, Ironsides, 9, 124
Edgar, king of Wessex, 8, 124, 128
Edred, son of Edward the Elder, 84, 106
Edward, the Elder, 94, 112
Edward, the Confessor, 9, 112
Edwaldus, brother of St Edmund, king and martyr, 98
Edwin, king of Northumbria, 27, 35, 36
Egremont, boy of, 70
Egclwya, bishop of Durham, 84
Egwine, St., 147, 149
Elfrida, queen of Wessex, 100
Elwina, abbess of Romsey, 95
Eneas, 34
Elyote, John, 102
Eoves, a shepherd, 149
Ercombert, king of Kent, 76
Ethelmer, Earl of Cornwall, 98
Erinsuis, chaplain to Queen Maud, 135, 136
Espec, Walter, 49
Ethelbald, king of Mercia, 106
Ethelburga, queen of Northumbria, 27, 35
Ethelbert, king of Kent, 4
Ethelbert of East Anglia, 162
Ethelburh, queen of Wessex, 124, 125
Ethelfleda, daughter of Oswy, king of Northumbria, 54
Ethelmer, Earl of Cornwall, 98
Etheldreda, queen of Northumbria, 20
Ethelred, king of Mercia, 149
Ethelred the Unready, 9, 100, 101, 147
Ethelwerdus, or Egelwaldus, 98
Ethelwold, abbot of Abingdon, 84, 85
Ethelwold, archbishop of Winchester, 94
Eugenius II, 84, 108
Eure, Sir Ralph, 184, 191, 193

FAIRFAX, 37
Fane, Sir H., 79
Farringdon, Henry, abbot of Reading, 82
Fastolph, abbot of Fountains, 67
Felix, St, the “Apostle of East Anglia,” 5
Ferrars, Robert, Earl of, 120, 122
Fillan, St, 174
Finchale, Godricus de, 24, 25, 26
Finian, St, of Clonard, 3
Fitz-Alan, Walter, 196
FitzBardolph, Akarius, 44, 46
Fitz-Hamon, Robert, 130
Frampton, Sir Robert, 90
France, King John of, 161
Frithwaldus, governor of the Province of Surrey, 81
Fuller, Robert, abbot of Waltham, 117
Fursey, a Scottish monk, 5

GALLOWAY, Fergus, Lord of, 194
Gausbertus, abbot of Battle, 80
Geoffrey, abbot of Croyland, 106, 107
Gerald, abbot of Furness, 40, 42
Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, 2
Germanus, St, monk of Auxerre, 57
Gildas, British historian, 1
Gilmer, 80
Giraldus, abbot of Tewkesbury, 132
Gloucester, Humphrey, Duke of, 112
Gloucester, Walter de, 137
Godwin, 147
Grainvilla, Richard de, 165
Gregory, Pope, 4, 151
Gregory, abbot of Stanlawe, 31
Grendon, Serle de, 142
Gresham, Sir Richard, 63
Greslei, Robert, 109
Grenville, Sir R., 103
Grimstone, Hugh, abbot of Kirkstall, 74
Grimthorpe, Lord, 161
Gross, William de, Earl of Albemarle, 61, 108
Guthlac, St, 106
Guinevere, Queen, 124

HADRIAN, 35
Hamilton, Patrick, abbot of Fearn, 172
Harold, Earl 19, 117
Hastings, Sir R., 191, 193
Hay, James, Earl of Carlisle, 119
Hearn, Viceroy of Wiltshire, 84, 85
Helias, abbot of Selby, 60
Hengist, 84
Herfastus, Bishop, 114
Herlwin, Abbot, 122
Herman, Bishop, 96
Heron, John, a Border robber, 21
Hertford, Earl of, 183, 186, 189, 193
Hereford, Earl of Milo, 135
Hilda, abbess of Hartlepool, 54
Hoby, Sir Philip, 147
Holland, Gilbert de, 110
Honorius, Pope, 5, 139, 161
Horsey, Sir J., 96
Huby, Marmaduke, abbot of Fountains, 66
Hugh, bishop of Durham, 24
Hugh, abbot of Reading, 82
Hugh, dean of York, 65
Hume, John, 193

IGNATIUS, Father, 135
Ina, king of the West Saxons, 96, 122, 124, 125
Innocent, Pope, 88
Insula, de, prior of Finchale, 26
Islip, abbot of Westminster, 156

JEROME, St, 1
Joanna, wife of Alexander II, 187

KENREDUS, king of Mercia, 147
Kent, John of, 63, 66
King, Bishop, 128, 129
Kingston, John of, 46
Kintevymus, King, 124
Knox, John, 15, 172, 186

LACY, William de, 136
Lacy, Hugh de, 135, 136
Lacy, Henry de, 55, 72, 74
Lamberton, William, bishop of St Andrews, 176
Lancaster, William de, 28
Lancaster, Aveline de, 156
Landon, Walter, 135
Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, 158, 162
Langton, Archbishop, 115
Layton, Sir B., 182, 183, 184, 185
Lee, Archbishop, 21
Leeds, John, 44
Leving, bishop of Worcester, 100
Lennox, Matthew, Earl of, 44
Lesly, Norman, 184
Lichfield, Clement, Earl of Evesham, 148
Lidgate, poet, 116
Littlington, 159
Longespee, William, Earl of Salisbury, 90
Longespee, Ella, Countess of Salisbury, 90
Lothian, Marquis of, 193
Lucius, king of Britain, 2, 151, 158
Lucy, Sir B., 92
Lutherius, bishop of Winchester, 88
Lupus, bishop of Troyes, 2

MACALPINE, Kenneth, 186, 188
Madoc ap Griffith Madoc, 167
Mare, Thomas de la, abbot of St Albans, 161
Marivanna, abbess of Romsey, 94
Maurice, abbot of Inchaffray, 174
Maydulphus, 88
Mellitus, Italian missionary, 151, 158
Meschines, William de, 68, 70
Meschines, Cecile de, 68, 70
Modanus, St, 183
Molême, Robert de, 64
Montague, Earl of, 63
Montague, Bishop, 129
Montfort, Earl Simon de, 147, 150, 157
Moon, Richard, abbot of Bolton, 68, 71
Morganwg, Lewis, 165
More, Sir Thos., 159
Morton, Stephen, Earl of, 28
Morville, Hugo de, Lord Lauderdale, 184, 193
Mowbray, Roger de, 42, 43

NASH, Beau, 129
Northwode, John de (brass), 77
Northwode, Joan de ( “ ), 77
North, Colonel, 72

ODDO & Doddo, Dukes of Mercia, 130
Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, 8, 125
Offa, king of Mercia, 128, 147, 151, 158, 161, 162, 163
Oliver, Abbot, Royal Ambassador of England, 184
Ordgarus, Earl of Devonshire, 100
Ordulf, son of Ordgarus, Earl of Devonshire, 100, 101
Osbert, abbot of Jedburgh, 193
Oswald, king of Northumbria, 5, 17
Oswy, king of Northumbria, 36, 54
Otringham, Richard de, 61

PARKER, abbot of Tewkesbury, 132
Paslow, John, abbot of Whalley, 33
Patrick, Canon, poet, 184
Patrick, St, 122
Paulet, Sir William, 91
Paulinus, St, 5, 31, 35, 122
Pembroke, William, Earl of, 133
Penda, king of Mercia, 5, 36
Penryn, John, abbot of Tavistock, 101, 102
Percy, Henry, 109, 163
Percy, William de, Lord of Whitby, 54
Philip, abbot of Byland, 42
Pickering, Sir William, 44
Ptolemy, Alexandrian geographer, 35
Pudsey, Henry, 26
Pyke, Roger, abbot of Furness, 28, 31

QUINIACUS, Peter de, A monk of Savigny, 44, 46

RAINCOURT, Guido de, 55
Ramyge, abbot of St Albans, 163
Remigius, bishop of Dorchester, 139
Reinfrid, abbot of Whitby, 54
Richmond, Alan, Earl of, 44, 46
Richmond, Conan, Earl of, 47
Ripley, John, abbot of Kirkstall, 72
Risdon, 101
Robert, Bishop, 128
Roger, bishop of Sarum, 136
Roger, bishop of Salisbury, 96
Roaldus, Constable of England, 50
Romaine, John, archdeacon of Richmond, 52
Romille, Alice de, 68, 70
Russell, Lord, 13, 100

SALETH, hermit, 74
Samson, Abbot of Bury St Edmunds, 115
Scudamore, John, Lord, 121
Scott, Michael, 187
Scott, Walter, Sir, of Buccleuch, 184
Scrope, Richard, 51
Sebert, king of the East Saxons, 158
Sedbergh, Adam, abbot of Jervaulx, 44
Serlo, dean of York, 63, 65
Sevam, robber, 59
Severus, 35
Sexburga, Queen, 76
Shaw, George, 196
Sigberct, king of East Anglia, 5, 112
Sigge, a robber, 59
Shurland, Robert de (tomb), 77
Skelton, first Poet Laureate, 159
Somerset, Protector, 189
Sparke, Thomas, prior of Lindisfarne, 18
Staunton, John, abbot of Dale, 143
Stockton, Sir John, 109
Strail, James, 184
Stratherne, Gilbert, Earl of, 174
Strehall, prior of Finchale, 26
Strode, Ralphe de, 184
Stumpe, William, clothier, 88
Surrey, Lord, 191, 193
Sweyn, 9, 95, 113, 128

TANNER, William, 141
Taylor, Walter, 92
Theocus, hermit, 130
Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, 6
Thirlby, bishop of Westminster, 159
Thomas, archbishop of York, 19, 20
Thurstan, archbishop of York, 42, 64
Thurstan, abbot of Glastonbury, 122, 126
Tison, Gilbert, standard-bearer of England, 55
Tickhill, John of, 25
Tosti, dean of York, 63, 65
Tovi, standard-bearer to Canute, 117
Tudor, Mary, queen of France, 115
Tyler, William, M.A., 102

UCHTRED, 194
Ultcyter, abbot of Croyland, 106

VALENCE, Aymer de (tomb), 156
Villula, John de, 128

WAKEMAN, John, abbot of Tewkesbury, 130
Wake, Sir William, Bart., D.C.L., 117
Wallace, William, 171
Wallingford, William, abbot of St Albans, 163
Ware, abbot of Westminster, 157
Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, 78
Warwick, abbot Simon of, 34, 40
Watts, Dr, 92
Whiting, Richard, abbot of Glastonbury, 122, 127
Wilberforce, Samuel, dean of Westminster, 160
Wilfrid, St, 5, 19
William, prior of Wycombe, 135
Williams, Sir Richard, 166
Wishart, George, 172
Wolsey, Cardinal, 12, 13, 78, 97
Wulfar, king of Mercia, 81
Wulfsiu, Bishop, 96
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, 98

YORK, John of, 66

 

COLSTON AND CO. LTD., PRINTERS, EDINBURGH

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
Kirstall=>Kirkstall {pg xi}
“In 1775 the first Cathedral was built by King Offa.=> “In 775 the first
Cathedral was built by King Offa. {pg 128}
ST ALBAN’S (Mitred Benedictine)=> ST ALBANS (Mitred Benedictine) {pg 161}
Euginius III., Pope, 84, 108=> Eugenius III., Pope, 84, 108 {pg 201}
Sedburgh, Adam, abbot of Jervaulx, 44=> Sedbergh, Adam, abbot of Jervaulx, 44 {pg 203}
PART IV—NORTHERN COUNTIES=>PART IV—WESTERN COUNTIES {pg 120}

---