In the original church, that is, the one erected in St. Malachy’s time, there were ten altars we are told, but on the ground plan seven only are shown. Two more at least were in front of the Rood-loft or Jubé, and the remaining one very probably was in one of the aisles. The church of Mellifont was remarkable, not so much for its vast dimensions, as for its architectural beauty; yet, in this it was surpassed by St. Mary’s Abbey, Dublin. Sir Thomas Deane writes: “From the fragments of the church which remain, it is easy to trace the vicissitudes the building underwent. I have great doubt that any portions of the structure above ground are those of the earliest church erected on the site, or date as far back as 1157, which is given as the year of its consecration. … The details of the piers (the older ones) are in my opinion a century or more later in date. They still indicate a foreign type, and the arrangements and obvious plan show that the transepts as well as the nave had aisles. … Portions of the piers discovered are of the fifteenth century, other parts of the church of the fourteenth. … A second portion dates probably from 1260, another from 1370, and another from 1460. I am not prepared to follow from the history of the Abbey the causes of such restorations; but it is certain that rebuildings of portions of the church occurred from time to time, and that violence or decay was the cause.” Neither to violence nor to decay can the alterations be attributed, which the church underwent at the three periods mentioned by Sir Thomas, but rather to the practice then common to the whole Order, chiefly in the monasteries of Great Britain and Ireland, of adopting the advancing changes in the Gothic style, and to the laudable efforts of the monks to make the House of God worthy of Him as far as art and skill could be made subservient to that purpose. Thus in the Annals of Fountains and Furness, there are abundant proofs of this constant change going on in those monasteries even down to the date of their suppression. One Abbot considered the eastern window too low and narrow, and had it enlarged; another thought the tower rested on too slender a basis, and he built substantial piers and flanked them on the outside with buttresses, and so with others.
To better understand the surroundings, it will be necessary to bear in mind the general plan on which all Cistercian monasteries were built. On this subject there is a good deal of misapprehension, even on the part of those who seem to have given close attention to the matter. The church and buildings necessary for large communities were so arranged as to form a square, thereby combining simplicity with economy. It is said that the monks borrowed this idea from the form of a Roman villa. The church formed the first or northern side (for in temperate and cold climates the other buildings, as they lay to the south, were sheltered by the church.) The sacristy, chapter-house, and other halls were on the east; the calefactory, refectory, and kitchen on the south; and the Domus Conversorum completed the square on the west. Within this square were the cloisters, always contiguous to the main buildings, and forming a communication with all the parts of the monastery. They were a sort of covered ambulatory, whose roof rested on the one side against the main buildings, and on the other was supported by open ornamental arcades, which, however, in these climates were glazed. The cloisters were often vaulted in richly moulded stonework, and were fitted up with benches for reading, chiefly on the side adjoining the church. The space or quadrilateral area enclosed by them was called the Cloister-Garth, in the centre of which a statue or handsome fountain stood.
The cloisters were generally entered from the church by the south aisle, at the point where it adjoins the transept; but here, at Mellifont, the entrance was direct from the south transept itself. This a glance at the ground-plan will show; though it may have been otherwise in the primitive church; for, when it underwent alterations, the transepts were widened by the addition of an aisle to each; and, the cloister being thus encroached on, a change was necessary in it also.
Adjoining the transept, and at right angles with the cloister, on the left, was a narrow hall or cell which contained books, chiefly the Sacred Scriptures, and the writings of the Fathers. This cell, which had no window, was called the “Armarium Commune,” or “Common Box;” for its contents were common to all the monks. Its situation was convenient to the reading-cloister, which lay along the south wall of the church. In this cell the monks were provided with an abundant supply of good books, but treatises on the Canon and Civil Laws were forbidden to be kept in it: the Prior was charged with the custody of these. Behind this cell, and communicating only with the church, the Sacristy was placed; but, as before observed, there is no trace of one here. Some writers on monastic ruins, confidently assure their readers that this cell was a prison, and that it was called the “Lantern;” casting upon the monks all responsibility for the name, and supposing them to have formed it on the lucus a non lucendo principle, seeing the cell was dark. The error was all their own; for the Lantern, as has been already shown, was in the tower over the crossing of the church; and the true use of this cell has just been stated above.
Here (at Mellifont), in close proximity to the transept, is the ruined two-storied building we saw as we approached, and which, from its present striking appearance, must have been one of the most beautiful within the ancient abbey’s precincts. This is commonly, but erroneously, known as “St. Bernard’s Chapel.” Why it was reputed to have been a chapel, must be from the close resemblance it bears to one. It was, in reality, the Chapter-house. That it was, is quite evident to anyone who has studied the plans of Cistercian monasteries: (a), from the position it occupies, and (b), from the internal arrangement and decorations such as are found in other like edifices of the Order in Ireland. A stone bench ran around the inside of the building, and which, when covered with a rush mat, served as a seat for the monks. In Graignamanagh Abbey, Co. Kilkenny, the ancient Chapter-house still remains, closely resembling this one at Mellifont, both in style and ornamentation, as well as in dimensions. The historic Chapter-house of St. Mary’s Abbey, Dublin, which was unearthed a few years ago, exhibited in every detail a striking resemblance to this also. That at Graignamanagh was remarkable for its beauty. At the entrance to it from the cloister, was a magnificent arched door-way, containing within it three smaller arches of blue marble, beautifully carved. A grand central column, called by the inhabitants of the district, the “Marble Tree,” supported the roof. It stood eight feet high from base to capital, whence the branches spread to meet the corresponding ribs on the groined roof.
Gateway (Porter’s Lodge.) See page 2. From Photo by W. Lawrence, Dublin.
Sir William Wilde describes the Chapter-house at Mellifont, as he saw it in 1850. He says: “It must have been one of the most elegant and highly embellished structures of the Norman or Early English pointed style in Ireland.” He calls it a Crypt; for it was overlaid, and surrounded up to a high level by heaps of rubbish. He goes on to say: “It has a groined roof underneath another building evidently used for domestic purposes, and was probably part of the Abbot’s apartments. The upper room, which contains a chimney, must have been a pleasant, cheerful abode, and its windows commanded a charming prospect down the valley, with a view of the distant hills peeping up from the south-west. The building is 30 feet long, by 19 feet wide. There are no remains of mullions or tracery of the east window. At present, there are two lights on each side; but upon a careful examination of the masonry both within and without the building, it is, we think, apparent that in the original plan, the upper window on each side alone existed, the others being evidently subsequent innovations. The original windows[2] are still beautiful, deeply set, and, though their stone mullions are rather massive, each forms, with the tracery at the top, a very elegant figure. The internal pilasters, which form an architrave for the northern window, spring from grotesque heads, elaborately carved, and which appear as if pressed down by the superincumbent weight. A fillet of dog’s-tooth moulding surrounds the internal sash. A projecting moulding courses round the wall, about two feet from the ground, which, while it dips down to admit the splayed sill of the upper or original windows, continues unbroken by the lower ones,