he long line of distinguished men being thus rudely and abruptly terminated at Mellifont, with the suppression of the monastery, all memorials of their history were lost, and no trace of them has been left. Not a book, nor cross, nor chalice, register, nor chartulary remains. It appears that Mellifont had its Annalist and its Annals like all the other monasteries of the Order in Ireland; for Bishop Nicolson, who wrote his “Irish National Library” in 1724, says: “The Annals of Ireland from the foundation of this Abbey in 1142 to the year 1500, are, or were lately, in the hands of some of the learned men of this kingdom.” He does not tell us the name of the compiler, but only the fact that they had been written at Mellifont. These are not cited by later writers, so they, also, must have perished long since. At the suppression of monasteries, the archives, chronicles, and registers were carefully sought by the Commissioners, because they contained correct information on the value and extent of the possessions of each house respectively; and the more extensive these were, the more sedulously were the records sought for. Hence it is that because the Cistercian Order had large possessions, the manuscripts were all seized and handed over with the monasteries to the grantees. The monks could not possibly take one away with them. So their history is now derivable from other sources, which, at best, are very meagre. Mellifont, which occupied so prominent and respected a position during its career, would not be found inferior to other houses of the Order in the number of its learned and remarkable men, were its ancient documents now available; and, judging from the long roll of distinguished men, who in every department of knowledge rendered the Order illustrious in other countries, we may safely allot a respectable quota of the same to Mellifont. De Visch compiled his Writers of the Cistercian Order in 1656, and Sartorius published a large tome in 1700, each containing notices of the illustrious men of the Order. No less than sixty-three large folio pages of this latter work are occupied with the names of the learned men, and the dates at which they flourished. He places all in distinct categories, and so we have St. Bernard heading the list, after whom come the Grammarians, next follow the Poets, Orators, Historians, Philosophers, Mathematicians, Astronomers, Musicians, then Doctors of Canon and Civil Law, and Doctors of Theology; finally, Professors in universities, and others, whose general attainments precluded classification. As these works were written after the suppression of the monasteries in these countries, the materials relating to the Irish and English monasteries having passed into hostile hands or been destroyed, were no longer accessible. Ireland was ever remarkable for the thirst for learning displayed by her children, and for the singular proficiency attained by them, when the opportunity for it was afforded; we may, then, justly conclude that learning and the polite arts found a home at Mellifont. For this latter branch, the beautiful buildings would, of themselves, suffice as an argument in favour of an advanced state of culture and refinement.
It is worthy of note, that neither the Irish people, nor the representatives of the Government in this country, brought, much less substantiated, any direct charges against the Irish monks, prior to the suppression. Hence it is, that their maligners had to import, for use against them, the staple arguments commonly used in England, and there only by venal scribblers, and those who profited by the downfall of the monks. To such the learned and impartial Protestant historian, the Rev. Doctor Maitland, adverts, when after giving credit to the monks for their having been benefactors to mankind, he writes in his preface to the Dark Ages:—“In the meantime, let me thankfully believe that thousands of the persons at whom Robertson, and Jortin, and other such very miserable second-hand writers, have sneered, were men of enlarged minds, purified affections, and holy lives, that they were justly reverenced by men, and, above all, favourably accepted by God, and distinguished by the highest honours which He vouchsafes to those whom He has called into existence, that of being the channels of His love and mercy to their fellow-creatures.” And in our own time, the Guardian, an English Protestant newspaper, when reviewing the Rev. Doctor Gasquet’s, O.S.B., learned work, Henry VIII. and the English Monasteries, approvingly cites, amongst others, the following paragraph:—“The voices raised against the monks were those of Cromwell’s agents, of the cliques of the new men and of his hireling scribes, who formed a crew of as truculent and as filthy libellers as ever disgraced a revolutionary cause. The later centuries have taken their tale in good faith, but time is showing that the monasteries, up to the day of their fall, had not forfeited the goodwill, the veneration, the affection of the English people.” Mr. Lecky, too, with his usual candour and liberality, writes:—“Monastic institutions were the only refuges of a pacific civilisation; the only libraries, the only schools, the only centres of art, the only refuges for gentle and intellectual natures; the chief barriers against violence and rapine; the chief promoters of agriculture and of industry.” (The Political Value of History, p. 14. London, 1892.)
The monks being now expelled, Mellifont was delivered up to desecration and ruin; the silence of the tomb reigned supreme, and the voice of prayer was heard no more; no longer did the bells from the tower send forth their cheering notes over the surrounding district to raise the hearts of the toiler to Heaven. These sweet toned bells, the gift of some princely benefactor, had been, with all the other moveable property, carried off by the spoiler. The Abbey, with all its spiritual and temporal possessions, was given, in 1541, to Laurence Townley, for 21 years. They passed by reversionary lease to —— Brabazon, in 1546. In 1551, they were leased to the same for 21 years more, and in 1566, they came by reversionary lease to Edward Moore, the founder of the Drogheda family, who, at that time, came into Ireland, as a soldier of fortune. (Appendix to the Report of the Deputy-Keeper of the Rolls and Grants of Elizabeth.)
This Edward Moore, who was accompanied by his brother John, the founder of the Charleville family (now extinct), was descended from an ancient Kentish House. He fixed his residence at Mellifont, changing the church into a dwelling, which he strongly fortified against the attacks of the Ulster Irish. The statues of the Twelve Apostles, which once occupied places in the church, he caused to be removed to the hall, clad in red uniforms, with muskets on their shoulders, as a protest, no doubt, against “Popish idolatry.” It is even said that he suffered the Founder’s tomb, and those of others, or such portions of them as still were left, to remain as part of his domestic arrangements, without his being disturbed by such solemn surroundings. He was knighted by the Deputy, Sir Wm. Drury, and dying soon after, was succeeded by his son, Sir Garret, to whom Mellifont, with six other dissolved monasteries, and all their spiritualities (that is, the revenues of them, right of patronage, etc.) and temporalities, were granted in fee. By these means, was adhesion to the Crown purchased and services to it rewarded—services, which bore no equivocal meaning ever since the Invasion, as the Irish knew by long and bitter experience.
At this time, the Church, as by Law Established, became part and parcel of the State, and its most obsequious servant. Its ministers looked to the civil power for patronage, and even hoped for promotion through the officials of the Court; but only in a few instances were the livings worth the asking, as the greater part of their temporalities were bestowed on laymen, favourites of the Queen. We have a picture of the state of that Church in Ireland, soon after the suppression of monasteries, drawn by the Lord Deputy himself, in a letter to Queen Elizabeth. They who would fain believe in the blessed advantages which flowed from the Dissolution of Monasteries, and the introduction of the new religion, may take to heart the lesson it teaches. Sir Henry Sydney wrote to the Queen in April, 1576, on the condition of the diocese of Meath:—“There are within this diocese,” he writes, “224 parish churches, of which number, 105 are impropriated to sundry possessions; no parson or vicar resident on any of them, and a very simple or sorry curate for the most part appointed to serve them; among which number of curates, only eighteen were found to be able to speak English, the rest being Irish ministers, or rather, Irish rogues, having very little Latin and less learning and civility.... In many places the very walls of the churches are thrown down, very few chancels covered; windows and doors ruined and spoiled. There are 52 parish churches in the same diocese which have vicars endowed upon them, better served and maintained than the others, yet badly. There are 52 parish churches here, residue of the first number of 224, which pertain to divers particular lords; and these, though in better state than the others commonly, are yet far from well.” He concludes by saying:—“But yet your Majesty may believe it, that upon the face of the earth where Christ is professed, there is not a church in so miserable a case.” Lord Grenville, in his Past and Present Policy of England towards Ireland, when commenting on Sydney’s letters, from one of which the above is an extract, writes:—“Such was the condition of a church which was half a century before rich and flourishing, an object of reverence and a source of consolation to the people. It was now despoiled of its revenues; the sacred edifices were in ruins, the clergy were either ignorant of the language of their flocks, or illiterate and uncivilised intruders; and the only ritual permitted by the laws was one of which the people neither comprehended the language nor believed the doctrines; and this is called establishing a reformation.” That this condition of affairs was not confined to any particular diocese, but rather was the state in all, is evident from the sketch given by Spenser in his View of the State of Ireland. “They” (the ministers), he says, “neither read the Scriptures nor preach to the people, nor administer the Communion ... only they take the tithes and offerings, and gather what fruit else they may of their livings.... It is a great wonder to see the zeal between the Popish priests and the ministers of the Gospel; for they spare not to come out of Spain, from Rome, and from Rheims, by long toil and dangerous travelling thither, where they know peril of death awaiteth them, and no reward or riches are to be found, only to draw people to the Church of Rome.” Such were the immediate fruits of the Reformation as admitted and described by Protestant contemporaries.
One of the first proprietary acts of Sir Edward Moore, on his acquiring Mellifont, seems to have been to cut down and sell some of the magnificent timber planted by the monks. The old wooden house, so long an object of curiosity in Drogheda, and which was taken down in 1824, was chiefly composed of oak obtained from Mellifont Park. It was situated at the angle formed by the junction of Laurence Street and Shop Street, and was erected by Nicholas Bathe, as an inscription in raised characters, each six inches in length, testified. This inscription was on the Laurence Street side. “Made. Bi. Nicholas. Bathe. in. the. ieare. of. our. Lord. God. 1570. Bi. Hiu. Mor. Carpenter.”
In 1592, Red Hugh O’Donnell, fleeing from Dublin Castle, where he had been detained a close prisoner, was received and kindly treated by Sir Edward Moore, at Mellifont. His reception is thus related in the Life of Red Hugh, edited with notes by the late Father Denis Murphy, S.J.:—“After crossing the Boyne near Drogheda, Red Hugh and his companion mounted their horses, and proceeded about two miles from the river, where they saw a dense bushy grove in front of them on the road they came, and a large rampart all around it, as if it was a kitchen-garden. There was a fine mansion (called the great monastery), belonging to an illustrious youth of the English, by the side of the wood. He was much attached to O’Neil.... He (O’Donnell) went into the house and was entertained; for he was well known there especially more than in other places.”
In 1599, according to the family pedigree, Sir Garret Moore and Sir Francis Stafford were the only English house-keepers in the County Louth; all the lands being wasted by the Ulster rebels. The next important event at Mellifont was the great O’Neil’s surrender there to the Deputy, Lord Mountjoy, on the 24th March, 1602. The Lord Deputy sent Sir Garret Moore, as an old acquaintance of O’Neil’s, with Sir Wm. Godolphin to parley with him, and O’Neil returned with them to Mellifont, where (on his knees, it is said by English writers,) he made his submission to the Deputy. Here, again, we have further proof of what has been stated before, that it was Irishmen who retained this country for the English Crown; for when Sir George Carew sat down before Kinsale, where O’Neil was defeated, his army consisted of three thousand men, of whom two thousand were Irish.[8]
Five years later, that is, in 1607, O’Neil was again at the “fair mansion of Mellifont to bid good-bye for ever to his good friend, Sir Garret, the fosterer of his son John.” He tarried two days with him, and then said farewell. Having given his blessing, “according to the Irish fashion,” to every member of his friend’s household, he and his suite took horse, and rode rapidly by Dundalk on his way to Lough Swilly, where a ship awaited him to bear him from his native land for ever.