It seems worthy of remark, that all the priors who were hostile to the old monastery died ‘by Divine visitation.’ William, who first despoiled the place of its herds and storehouses, being deposed by the fraternity, forfeited his right of sepulture among the priors. Clement seemed to like this place of study and prayer; yet, after the example of Heli [Eli], the priest, as he neither reproved nor restrained his brethren from plunder, and other offences, he died by a paralytic stroke. And Roger, who was more an enemy to this place than either of his predecessors, and openly carried away everything which they had left behind—robbing the church of its books, ornaments, and privileges—was also struck with a paralytic affection long before his death, resigned his honours, and lingered out the remainder of his days in sickness and solitude.
In the reign of King Henry the First, when the Mother-Church was as much celebrated for her affluence as for her sanctity[323]—two qualities which are seldom found thus united—the fame of so much religion attracted hither Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, who was at that time Prime Minister; for it is virtue to love virtue, even in another man; and a great proof of innate goodness it is to show a detestation of those vices which hitherto have not been avoided.
When he had reflected with admiration on the nature of the place, the solitary life[324] of the fraternity, living in canonical obedience, and serving God without a murmur or complaint, he returned to the King, and related to him what he thought most worthy of remark; and after spending the greater part of the day in the praises of this place, he finished his panegyric with these words—“Why should I say more? The whole treasure of the King and his kingdom would not be sufficient to build such a cloister.”
Having held the minds of the King and the Court for a long time in suspense by this assertion, he at length explained the enigma, by saying, that he alluded to the “cloister of mountains,” by which this church is on every side environed. But
William—the warrior who first discovered this place—and his companion Ernisius, a priest, having heard, perhaps—as it is written in the Fathers, according to the opinion of Jerome—“that the church of Christ decreased in virtues as it increased in riches”—were often used devoutly to solicit the Lord, that this place might never obtain great possessions. They were exceedingly concerned when this religious foundation began to be enriched by its first lord and patron, Hugh de Lacy, and by the lands and ecclesiastical benefices conferred upon it by the bounty of others of the faithful. From their predilection to poverty, they rejected a great many offers of manors and churches; and being situated in a wild spot, they would not suffer the thick and wooded parts of the valley to be cultivated and levelled, lest they should be tempted to recede from their eremitical mode of life.
But whilst the Mother-Church increased daily in riches and endowments, a rival Daughter—as we shall see—availing herself of the hostile state of the country, sprang up at Gloucester, under the protection of Milo, Earl of Hereford; as if, by Divine Providence, and through the merits of the saints, and prayers of those holy men (of whom two lie buried before the high altar), it were destined that the Daughter-Church should be founded in superfluities, whilst the Mother continued in that laudable state of mediocrity, which she had always affected and coveted.
“Wherefore let the active reside there, the contemplative here; there the pursuit of terrestrial wishes, and here the love of celestial delights; there let them enjoy the concourse of men, here the presence of angels; there let the powerful of this world be entertained, here let the poor of Christ be relieved; there, I say, let human actions and pompous declamations be heard, but here let reading and prayers be heard only in whispers; there let opulence, the parent and nurse of vice, increase with cares; here let the virtuous and golden mean be all-sufficient.
“In both places, the canonical discipline instituted by St. Augustine, which is now distinguished above all other orders, is observed; for the Benedictines, when their wealth was increased by the fervour of charity, and multiplied by the bounty of the faithful, under the pretext of a bad dispensation, corrupted, by gluttony and indulgence, our Order—that is, the Augustinian—which, in its original state of poverty, was held in high estimation. The Cistercian order, derived from the former, at first deserved praise and commendation, from its adhering voluntarily to the original vows of poverty and sanctity, until ambition, the blind mother of mischief, unable to fix bounds to prosperity, was introduced; for as Seneca[325] says, ‘Too great happiness makes men greedy, nor are their desires ever so temperate as to terminate in what is acquired.’”
Here the author, as if to contrast them with those of Llanthony Prima, indulges in a learned and eloquent apostrophe against the luxury and pride of several orders of monks. He concludes it with this anecdote: “I have judged it proper to insert in this place an instance of an answer which King Richard—Cœur de Lion—made to Fulke, a good and holy man, by whom God, in these our days, has wrought many signs in the kingdom of France. This man had, among other things, said to the king, “You have three daughters, namely, Pride, Luxury, and Avarice, and as long as they shall remain with you, you can never expect to be in favour with God.” To which the king, after a short pause, replied, “I have already given away those daughters in marriage—Pride to the Templars, Luxury to the Black Monks, and Avarice to the White.”[326]
“It is a remarkable circumstance,” he continues, “or rather a miracle, concerning Llanthony, that although it is on every side surrounded by lofty mountains, not stony or rocky, but of a soft nature, and covered with grass, yet Parian stones are frequently found there, and are called Freestones, from the facility with which they admit of being cut and polished; and with these the church is beautifully built. It is also wonderful, that when, after a diligent search, all the stones have been removed from the mountains, and no more can be found; yet, upon another search, a few days afterwards, they reappear in greater quantities to those who seek them.”