YORKSHIRE (WEST RIDING)

FOUNTAINS: BOLTON: KIRKSTALL
FOUNTAINS (Cistercian)

1132, Thirteen monks leave the Abbey of St Mary’s, York, and found a monastery of the Cistercian Order in Skeldale—1134, Hugh, Dean of York, bequeaths his wealth to the Brotherhood—1137, Serlo and Tosti, Canons of York, become benefactors to the abbey. In the following years kings and popes endow it with various privileges—1140, The house consumed by fire—1204, Restorations are commenced and the foundations of the church laid—1247, The church completed by Abbot John of Kent—In the 13th and 14th centuries members of the House of Percy become patrons of, and benefactors to, the abbey—1540, Abbot Bradley surrenders the abbey and receives a pension of ￡100 per annum. Annual revenue, ￡998, 6s. 8d.—After being sold by Henry VIII. to Sir Richard Gresham and passing through the hands of various families, the Abbey purchased by William Aislabie, Esq., of Studley Royal, who annexes the ruins to his own estate, both being now in the possession of the Marquis of Ripon.
“ ‘HERE man more purely lives, less oft doth fall,
More promptly rises, walks with nicer heed,
More safely rests, dies happier, is freed
Earlier from cleansing fires, and gains with-all
A brighter crown.’[1] On yon Cistercian wall
That confident assurance may be read;
And, to like shelter from the world have fled
Increasing multitudes. The potent call
Doubtless shall cheat full oft the heart’s desires;
Yet, while the rugged age on pliant knee
Vows to rapt fancy humble fealty,{64}
A gentle life spreads round the holy spires;
Where’er they rise, the sylvan waste retires,
And a?ry harvests crown the fertile lea.
Cistercian Monastery (Wordsworth).

Fountains Abbey is one of the earliest and most important of the houses belonging to the Cistercian order, an order which was under the immediate control of the Bishop of Rome, and which was introduced into England in the year 1129. After that time very few, if any, houses of the Benedictine order were founded in this country. The rules of the Benedictine and Cluniac orders having apparently become somewhat relaxed, it was found necessary to form new orders in which stricter observance should be paid to the original purpose of such religious houses—to personal self-denial for the good of others—to the fulfilment of the monastic vows of poverty, chastity and obedience—while less attention should be given to the attainment of worldly prosperity. These new orders—the Cistercian and Carthusian—settled in thinly populated districts, whereas the Benedictine and Cluniac orders built their houses as a rule in the vicinity of some town or trading centre. Robert de Molême is supposed to have founded at Citeaux the chief monastery of the Cistercian Order, although its popularity dates from the 12th century when St Bernard joined the community. The wave of sanctity which led Robert de Molême to Citeaux spread till it reached York and the Abbey of St Mary—then under the rule of St Benedict. Seven monks, wearied of the relaxed rules of the house, banded themselves together to observe stricter rules, eventually taking council with their prior, Richard, whom they found to be in sympathy with their aims. Violent discussions followed between the abbot and the prior and his associates, till in 1132 Prior Richard appealed to Thurstan, Archbishop of York. Thurstan was refused admittance to the abbey, while the monks{65} 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{66} 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{67} 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.{68}
BOLTON (Augustine Canons)

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

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

Part of the original nave of Bolton Priory has been converted into the present parish church—the choir and transepts are, however, in a ruinous state. The remains of the Perpendicular east window (overlooking the Wharfe) and of the Perpendicular tower at the west end are of later date than the rest of the ruin. The tower was in course of erection by the last abbot, Richard Moon, when, in the 16th century, the dread order for dissolution fell upon the abbey. The superstructure has fallen, but in the lower portion a large Perpendicular window of five lights in two tiers, placed within panelled buttresses, still remains. Over the entrance to the tower may be seen the arms of the house of Clifford, a family always friendly to the monks. It is evident that the refectory was to the south of the sacred structure, the dormitory and store cellar toward the west, and other offices on the east side. On the south side of the nave, signs of conventual buildings are to be seen. This side of the church is of more ancient date than that of the north, and boasts six beautiful lancet-windows in the clerestory. At the east end of the north aisle is a chantry to the Mauleverer family, whose bodies were, it is said, buried standing—
“There face to face and hand by hand
The Claphams and Mauleverers stand.”

An engraving of Landseer’s famous picture “Bolton Abbey in the Olden Times,” was at one time on the walls of every middle-class dwelling, and to-day it is one of the select few dear to the cottager’s heart. This throws a side-light on the affection which the toilers of the West Riding have for Bolton. Taking their history from the picture, they doubtless look upon Bolton as a place where abundant good cheer was the daily rule. Some colour is lent to this by the Compotus, or household book of Bolton Priory still in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, a list of the members of the household and its expenses during the years 1290-1325. Such items as 636 quarterns of malted oats used in one year’s brewing, and 1800 gallons of wine, bought for a similar period, naturally suggest a generous course of life, especially when it is remembered that the ecclesiastics (réligieux) did not exceed two dozen in number. But Bolton was nevertheless a large establishment. The prior was attended by twenty gentleman-retainers, each with his body servant. Scores of other servants had various duties on the priory estates, and these were daily supplied by the priory. The prior in short was a great feudal dignitary, who kept state in accordance with that position. No small part of his expenses{70} 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{71} 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 Ph?nix Park, Dublin, 1882.{72}
KIRKSTALL (Cistercian)

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is much to interest the student of architecture at Kirkstall—and possibly some among the masses of{74} 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{75} 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.