As to the spiritual condition of Mellifont at the time of its suppression, it was certainly on a high level. No charge was brought against that community, on that score, even by its worst enemies; none but the general ones mentioned in the Commission. In truth and in fact, the observances then in force at Mellifont were identical with those introduced by Abbot Christian and practised at Clairvaux by St. Bernard and his saintly companions. If they were “idolatrous,” and “superstitious,” and savouring of the “pestiferous doctrines of the Roman Pontiff,” so must have been the ancient practices of the Cistercians; and wonderful indeed was it, that till King Henry and his advisers discovered it, our ancestors, for four hundred years at least, approved of and took part in these same practices without a suspicion of the “pernicious” errors they were now found to contain! In the matter of discipline alone was there any decadence, and then the altered conditions of the times demanded some modifications. The use of flesh meat three days in the week was introduced, and instead of manual labour, other duties were substituted, such as teaching, copying, study, etc. In their daily lives, we are told by Rev. Dr. Gasquet, O.S.B., perhaps the greatest living authority in such matters, that the Cistercians at that time differed little from the Benedictines.
Such was the condition of Mellifont on that fatal day, the 23rd July 1539, when the Commissioners, with an armed band, demanded admission and surrender, in the King’s name. Remonstrance with them was vain, and the usual formality was gone through. They seized on the charters, registers, ledgers, etc., together with the keys of the treasury and store-rooms; took an inventory of all the possessions of the monastery, and sealed the Library and strong room. They, then, summoned the Abbot and all the monks to the Chapter-house, to sign the Act of Surrender. In the Calendar of Patent and Close Rolls, Chancery, Ireland, Henry VIII. (edited by James Morrin), the synopsis of it is given as follows at p. 135:—“Surrender of the Abbey or House of the Blessed Virgin Mary at Mellyfount, in the County of Louth, by Richard Contoure, Abbot, with the consent of the Convent; and of the church, belfry, cemetery, manors, lands, and all its possessions in the counties of Dublin, Kildare, and Carlow, with all charters, evidences, muniments, goods, utensils, ornaments and jewels.”—July 23, 31o. (1539). “Endorsed on the preceding surrender is a memorandum that the Abbot and Convent, assembled in the Chapter-house, voluntarily acknowledged the preceding surrender, delivered it into the hands of the Lord Chancellor, and prayed it might be enrolled in Chancery, in perpetuam rei memoriam. Witness, George, Archbishop of Dublin; Wm. Brabazon, Vice-Treasurer; Robert Cowley, Master of the Rolls.” July 23, 31o.
How often have these “voluntary” surrenders been flaunted by writers hostile to the monks, as if the farce of signing the document which made them beggars were a free act! They were anxious, forsooth, to shake off the burden of their religious obligations, through the facile dispensation so liberally accorded by the new Head of the Church, in the flush of his accession to ecclesiastical supremacy! The late scholarly and liberal-minded Dean Butler, Protestant Rector of Trim, wrote thus on the subject:—“The form of surrender then executed omitted no property which could belong to the house.... There were added their charters, evidences, writings and manuscripts, their goods, chattels, utensils, ornaments, jewels, and debts, all these were granted to the King, to be disposed of at his good pleasure, without appeal or complaint, and the unhappy men were forced to declare, that they thus deprived themselves of house and home of their own free will, and that they put an end to a venerable institution, to which they were bound by so many solemn obligations, certain just and reasonable causes thereto moving their minds and their consciences.” (Register of the Priory of All Hallows. Preface, p. xxix.)
The next step was, there and then, to auction off all the moveables of the monastery, except the jewels of the rich reliquaries, chalices, and other sacred vessels, with the plate and bells, which formed the King’s special perquisite. The whole artistic woodwork of the church (choir and wainscotting) was smashed in pieces, and even the very tombs of the founders and others interred there, were sold and carted off. For a description of the work of destruction, as related by an eye-witness of such vandalism at the suppression of an English Cistercian monastery, see The Irish Cistercians, p. 45. The sale realised £141 7s. 3d., but no detailed account is given of the sum that each article fetched. According to another Commission addressed to John Allen, Chancellor; William Brabazon, Vice-Treasurer; and Robert Cowley, Master of the Rolls; dated May 20, 1539, the proceeds of such sales were ordered to be allocated “to pay the officers and servants of the Crown.” When the church and monastery were dismantled, and every article of value, no matter how trifling, had been removed, the order to clear out the monks was promptly given and executed; and the gates were shut behind them. Whither they went nobody cared, and whither to go was a problem to themselves difficult to be solved; for without money or provision, they were in a worse condition than the most destitute of beggars. The hoary old walls caught up their groans and lamentations on that day, as with breaking hearts they looked upon each familiar spot for the last time. This is one of the secrets the old stones of the few remaining buildings yet withhold from us. Mellifont beheld many moving spectacles during the four centuries of her existence, but none, perhaps, so deeply affecting as when her 150 children, amongst whom were the aged, tottering on the brink of the grave and leaning for support on some younger brethren, turned their back upon their happy home where they enjoyed an anticipated paradise. As the sad procession slowly gained the top of the hill, many a time they turned to take a last farewell look at their beloved monastery, till it faded from their view for ever. A few shillings each were allowed them for their immediate wants, but of that multitude only thirteen and the Abbot received pensions. This grant was fixed for them three days after their expulsion, after which they all disappear from the scene as effectually as if the Boyne had engulphed them.
The following entries are found in the Patent and Close Rolls Calendar, Henry VIII., pp. 59, 60: “Pension of £40 Ir. to Richard Contour, late Abbot of Mellyfount, payable out of the parishes of Knockmohan, Donowre, and Monkenewton, with clause of distress.”—Sept. 10, 1539. And at p. 60, ibid., “Pension to John Byrrell, late parson of Mellifount, £3 6s. 8d.; to Thomas Bagot, £4; to Peter Rewe, 40/-; to Thomas Alen, 53/4; to William Norreis, 40/-; to Robert Nangle, 40/-; to Patrick Contour, 53/4; to William Veldon, £3 6s. 8d.; to Patrick Lawles, 40/-; to John Ball, 40/-; to Clement Bartholomewe, 20/-; to Phelim O’Neil, 20/-; payable out of the rents and lands of the parishes of Knockamowan, Donower, and Montnewton” (Monknewtown), 26 July, 1539.
Thus, then, were these fourteen provided for, but, of the others, not one received a single shilling, except, as has been said, a mere pittance that sufficed to procure them a few nights’ shelter. This is no picture drawn from fancy; it is a well-authenticated fact, that where a peaceful surrender was not given or signed, no provision whatsoever was made for those who so refused. They were given a trifle at their expulsion, and turned adrift to swell the army of beggars, or to perish, as they did in hundreds, of hardships to which they were unaccustomed. The imagination cannot now well conceive the heartless, wanton cruelty then practised on the expelled Religious; who, if they had betrayed their consciences and taken the oath of Supremacy, might have staved off, at least for a time, the calamities that befell them. But only for a time; for in some instances where the monks, through mistaken notions, obeyed the Royal mandate, they shared the fate of their more steadfast brethren, owing to the insatiable rapacity of the King and his advisers. To those of the expelled who were priests, the hope was held out to them, in case of “free surrender,” that they should be promoted to the first vacant benefices. As not one of the Religious expelled from Mellifont is enrolled on the list of those promoted to vacancies during that or the subsequent reigns, it is obvious that they held fast to their principles, and denied the King’s Supremacy, an acknowledgment of which was indispensable before promotion. All honour to them for their generous sacrifices, which made them worthy to be the last who saw the venerable institution reel and fall beneath the despot’s blows. Their noble attitude was befitting the close of a work which was inaugurated with such splendour amid a nation’s rejoicing. Like the setting sun, Mellifont disappeared in a halo of glory.
CHAPTER VIII.
MELLIFONT BECOMES THE HOME OF A NOBLE FAMILY—IS SOLD, AND IS DELIVERED UP TO RUIN AND DECAY.
| “Mute is the matin bell, whose early call Warn’d the grey fathers from their humble beds; No midnight taper gleams along the wall, Or, round the sculptur’d saint its radiance sheds.” (Keats.) |