Perhaps no abbey has a more uninteresting history or less result to show of labour undertaken, than this monastic house of St Mary’s in Airedale. Certainly the populous city of Leeds has the advantage of possessing a very necessary lung for her toilers in the cool retreat and quiet shade of the abbey grounds. The site of the abbey would at its foundation, and for many centuries afterwards, be a very beautiful one; for then the river flowed between gently rising hills in a well-wooded part of Airedale, where now a forest has sprung up in every direction, not of stately trees, alas! but of multitudinous chimneys, houses, etc.; and though these only extend a part of the way between the heart of Leeds and Kirkstall, they are well in sight when the ruins are reached, while these again are surrounded by numbers of the jerry-built monstrosities so beloved by the modern master builder. How different the aspect must have been even in 1770 when Gray thus describes his visit.
“It was a delicious quiet valley: there are a variety of chapels and remnants of the Abbey, shattered by the encroachments of the ivy, and surrounded by many a sturdy tree, whose twisted roots break through the fret of the vaulting and hang streaming from the vaults. The gloom of these ancient cells, the shade and verdure of the landscape, the glittering and murmur of the stream, the lofty towers and long perspectives of the church in the midst of a clear bright day detained me for many hours.”
The abbey lies on a level piece of land on the right bank of the river if approached from Leeds; and
though its dark and reverend walls form the centre of a pleasure ground, not a whit of its dignity is dispelled, nor is its solemnity intruded upon by the sight of the usual seats, refreshment stalls, penny-in-the-slot machines and placards imploring visitors not to walk on the grass, common in such places. No ancient building could more easily be restored than Kirkstall, but when, if ever, this most desirable necessity will be accomplished it is impossible to guess.
The ruins, now stripped of the clinging ivy have an area of 340 feet north to south, by 445 feet east to west, and are an example of Transitional Norman work. They include a quadrangle or cloister of considerable size, on the west of which was an ambulatory with a dormitory above; also a chapter-house—a fine apartment in a fairly good state of preservation; portions of the refectory, the kitchen and lavatory.