Mellifont looked charming on that propitious occasion, and presented a truly delightful picture, with its beautiful church and abbey buildings glistening in the sun in all the purity and freshness of the white, or nearly white, sandstone of which they were composed. Yet, beautiful as were the material buildings, far more so were those stones of the spiritual edifice, the meek and prayerful cenobites, who were gathered there to adore and serve their God in spirit and in truth. From that valley there arose a pleasing incense to the Lord—the prayers, and hymns, and canticles, which unceasingly resounded in that church from hearts truly devoted to God’s worship, and dead to the world and themselves.
CHAPTER V.
MELLIFONT CONTINUES TO FLOURISH UNDER SUCCESSIVE EMINENT SUPERIORS.
| “This is no common spot of earth, No place for idle words or mirth; Here streamed the taper’s mystic light; Here flashed the waving censers bright; Awhile the Church’s ancient song Lingered the stately aisles along, And high mysterious words were said Which brought to men the living Bread.” (W. Chatterton Dix.) |
fter the consecration of their church the monks settled down to their ordinary quiet way. The erection of the monastic buildings had hitherto kept them occupied; now that these were completed, they devoted their attention to the improvement of their farms, which they tilled with their own hands, and to the embellishment of their immediate surroundings. Even at this early period of her history, Mellifont was a hive of industry where all the trades flourished and many important arts were encouraged. At that time hired labour was sparingly employed by the monks; for they themselves bore a share in the work of the artisans as well as in the ordinary drudgery of tillage. Labour placed all on a footing of equality whilst it gave vigour to the body by healthy exercise in the open air. Perhaps, this healthy exercise was one of the secrets of the longevity for which the monks were remarkable. Regularity of life continued for years contributes to a state of health which dispenses with physicians. Wherever monks settled down they immediately erected mills for grinding corn, for preparing and finishing the fabrics of which their garments were made, etc. St. Benedict enjoined on his monks the necessity of practising all the trades and arts within the walls of the monastery, so that they need never leave their enclosure for the purpose, or under the pretext, of having their work done by externs.
Eleven years passed without Mellifont receiving any notice from our native chroniclers, and then at the year 1168, it is recorded, that Prince Donogh O’Carroll, the Founder, died and was buried in the church there. Ware tells us that his tomb and those of other remarkable personages had been in the church. As it was an almost general custom in Ireland, that the Founders of religious houses were interred on the north, or Gospel side of the High Altar, so it may be justly inferred that he was buried within the chancel, and that the recess on the north side is where his monument was erected. Thus, King Charles O’Connor’s tomb occupies the same place in Knockmoy Abbey, Co. Galway, of which he was Founder. So, too, in Corcomroe Abbey, Co. Clare, the tomb of Conor O’Brien, King of Thomond, grandson of the Founder of that abbey, is still to be seen in a niche in the wall on the north side of the High Altar. No doubt they were buried under the pavement. The ancient Statutes of the Order permitted kings and bishops to be buried in the churches, but assigned no particular part as proper to them.
In 1170, a monk named Auliv, who had been expelled[7] from Mellifont, instigated Manus, the King of Ulster, to commit an “unknown and attrocious crime,” as the Annals of the Four Masters call it; that is, to banish the monks whom St. Malachy brought to Saul, Co. Down, and to deprive them of everything they were possessed of. Instances of wicked men deceitfully entering monasteries, at that time and at other periods of monastic history, are given, but invariably the guilty party is severely censured, and it is related that his fellow-monks rid themselves of him. St. Bernard himself was deceived by his secretary, Nicholas, who afterwards left the Order. “He went out from us,” said the Saint, “but he did not belong to us.”