Go visit it by the pale moon light.”
But the ordinary commonplace tourist can not always plan his trips by the almanac, and thus it was that we saw it not by moonlight, when indeed it must be a scene of enchantment, but under the broad sunlight of a glorious midsummer day. Though several years have passed since then, there comes to me now as in a dream, a perfect picture of the noble ruin, superb even in its desolation and decay, with the greenest, softest grass for its floor and the glorious canopy of a perfect summer sky for its roof, the soft sunlight streaming athwart pillar and carved window and the rich ivy clinging lovingly to its mouldering sides. And ah! how the birds sang, its only music now. And what must it have been with its roof, buttresses and pinnacles entire, its gorgeous windows ablaze with color, with chime of bells and solemn peal of organ resounding through its naves and aisles—an object of reverence and admiration to the brave, the good, the noble of the land of Wallace and Bruce!
Melrose was founded in 1136 by David I. of Scotland, who also founded the abbeys of Holyrood, Kelso and Dryburgh, and was consecrated ten years later with all the pomp and circumstance peculiar to the ecclesiasticism of those days. By royal charter it was granted to the Cistercian order of monks, which, previous to this, had been established in France. This monastery was the mother church to all of this order in Scotland. In the retreat from Scotland of Edward II., in 1322, the English wreaked their fury on religious houses, and among others destroyed Melrose.
To the end that the abbey might be rebuilt, King Robert made a grant of £2,000 to the Abbot of Melrose. Had it not been for this destruction we should have missed the exceeding beauty of this famous ruin, for at the time the church was restored, the Gothic style of architecture had attained its most perfect development.
In 1384 Richard II. made an inroad to Scotland, lodged one night in the abbey and set fire to it in the morning. Afterward he made grants to the church, which meant, let us hope, that his majesty repented his act of vandalism.
Again was the monastery destroyed in 1545 by the Earl of Hertford. Tradition has it that the English on their return at that time had passed the abbeys of Melrose and Dryburgh when the bells were rung to express the joy of the monks at their escape; on hearing the sound, the English were not slow to return and turn their joy into sorrow.
Soon after the Scottish reformation took place and the abbey was never again rebuilt. After the reformation, one James Douglass, commendator, took down a good share of the ruin to build a house. His example was quickly followed by others, and for some time the people of Melrose used the venerable ruins for a quarry, and it is said there is not an old house in Melrose but has a stone from the abbey in its walls. Since it passed into the hands of his grace, the Duke of Buccleuch, every precaution has been taken to prevent its further decay. The rules of the Cistercians were very rigid, and for many years were strictly enforced. But there came a time when wealth flowed freely into the monastery, when royalty and nobility vied with each other in heaping costly gifts upon it, when the brothers waxed fat and loved their flesh-pots and goodly libations, and holy living was neglected and the name of the monks of Melrose came to be a hissing and a by-word.
Melrose, like all the other abbeys of olden time stands east and west. Nothing of the original structure remains save the side chapels on the south aisle, the first three of which are roofless. These chapels have been used as burying places for families of note in the vicinity. In one is a carved representation of the heads of David I. and his queen Matilda. In another is an ancient kneeling-stone facing toward the sunset, four horseshoes on its back and this inscription on its top: “Orate pro anima fratris Petre, ærari?” Pray for the soul of brother Peter, the treasurer.
The charm of the south transcript, lies chiefly in the wonderful carving and the graceful proportions of the various parts which form so symmetrical and perfect a whole. Perhaps the most exquisite specimen of carving is on the capital of a pillar which bounds the south aisle on the east, separating it from the nave; it represents the Scotch kale and is a most delicate piece of point lace carving. From the south transept also one can best see the small high window in the wall of the north transept, the tracery of which is quite perfect, and is said to represent the crown of thorns. In this part of the abbey are some curious and quaint inscriptions, one of which reads:
“Sa gaes ye compass even about,