Jervaulx Abbey had its beginning towards the second half of the twelfth century, when it was represented to Peter de Quiniacus, a monk of Savigny, that the people of north-west Yorkshire enjoyed none of the privileges of religious instruction. Peter met with the usual opposition, discouragement, and difficulty—opposition and disfavour, from his superiors; difficulty, in persuading the landowners of the district to grant land suitable for a site on which to build. Eventually he persuaded Akarius FitzBardolph (said to be the illegitimate brother of Alan, Earl of Richmond) to make him and twelve other monks, a grant of land at Fors—near Askrigg. Here they built some rude, insufficient shelters for themselves, to have them before long ruthlessly torn down by the country folk, who even in those early days objected to compulsory religious education—their resistance being, however, anything but passive. Peter appealed to the mother house, receiving in reply a rebuke for his foolhardiness and perversity. After a short retreat at Byland and nothing daunted, Peter persuaded twelve monks to return with him to Fors. Eventually, John of Kingston was elected abbot and was sent to Fors
from Byland with nine monks, the general Chapter of the order having decided to give the monastery of Fors to Byland on condition that a regular religious house should be founded there. In 1156 Conan, Earl of Richmond, removed the monks to the present site of the Abbey near the river Ure. From that time onward the monks prospered. In 1537 their last abbot was hanged for participation in the Pilgrimage of Grace.
[RIEVAULX (Cistercian)]
1132, Founded by Walter Espec, Lord Helmsley—Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, sends over some monks of the Cistercian order to form the new community—1539, Dissolved. Annual revenue, £278, 10s. 2d.
Though not so extensive as Fountains, nor in such a rugged mountainous district as Bolton, this ruin on the banks of the Rye can claim far more beauty and quiet loveliness than either of these popular abbeys. Sheltered on all sides by wooded hills and standing amid pastoral fields, this wreck of ancient glory is so completely in unison with its surroundings that the whole presents a perfect picture of past and present beauty. On the west the land slopes down rapidly towards the river, forming a terrace-like hill, and beyond this again are suggestions of moorland not far away. With the exception perhaps of Whitby and Tintern, Rievaulx may be considered to rank before any other ruined abbey for actual beauty both in itself and in its romantic situation. Dorothy Wordsworth, writing of Rievaulx in 1801, says, “I went down to look at the ruins.... Thrushes were singing, cattle feeding among green-grown hillocks about the ruins. The hillocks were scattered over with grovelets of wild roses and other shrubs and covered with wild flowers. I could have stayed in this solemn quiet spot till evening without a thought of moving.”