A Day of Virtue and Awe (Lynn Kerstan)

There are plenty of ruined abbeys in England (destruction courtesy of Henry VIII’s brutal Dissolution of the Monasteries), with some of the most interesting to be found in Yorkshire. One stands on a rugged crag in coastside Whitby, where Jo Beverley recently moved. That was on my agenda, more for the company than the abbey, and I’ve always wanted to visit Rievaulx as well.

But when Krissie, she of Impeccable Taste, declared Fountains to be “glorious” and a must-see, it shot to the top of the list. So Alicia and I set out on a sunny, cool autumn Tuesday and, reluctantly passing Studley Royal, an estate joined with Fountains that we longed to explore just because of its name, we arrived at the abbey without our usual wrong-turn diversions. An auspicious start to what would surely be a blessed day!

Our first stop was Fountains Hall, a house built around 1600 using stones from the ravaged abbey. This picture of me at the gate shows the orderly structure and fondness for windows common to Elizabethan architecture. But the most interesting detail isn’t visible. Inside the arched inset above and to the right of the front door is a statue of a maniacal-looking male stuffing what appears to be a small animal or a child into his mouth. We later discovered it was Saturn gulping down a child.

Titan, challenging Saturn for the rule of heaven and earth, had demanded he devour any child born of his seed if he wanted to avoid war. Power being more important than his own children, Saturn complied, one after another, until his wife hid a couple of them away. Trouble ensued, and that is somehow the way Jupiter got to be the Big Guy. At least he wasn’t the nasty Saturn or Titan. Myths are weird. So is the fact that the owner of Fountains chose to put that statue where everyone who entered the house could see it. Ugh.

Here’s Alicia, reluctantly standing still for a picture alongside the oddly shaped greenery rimming Fountains Hall. After exploring the restored rooms and interesting displays recounting the history of the house, we hurried to the place where the guided tour of the abbey ruins was to begin. Provided by the National Trust, which brilliantly preserves, explores, and administers the property, the tour is free.

We made it in time to join about thirty Brits and the entertaining and informative guide who introduced us to medieval (the abbey was founded in 1132) construction, commerce, and the lifestyles of the poor and prayerful. The Cistercian monks and lay brothers who lived and worked there built a flourishing abbey from virtually nothing save hard work and determination. They were smart fellas, though, choosing a site no one else wanted for many reasons and knowing this one had what they most needed—a reliable source of water, stone, and timber.

Here’s what we saw when the tour started. The picture makes the abbey look small. It isn’t. When we stood close, it soared tall and reached wide. Fountains is England's largest ruined abbey, and because it's very big, we missed out on several wondrous sights.








Like this one, showing the cellarium where the lay brothers lived. The construction is awe-fully beautiful and has endured for many hundreds of years







The “reliable source” of water, the river Skell, looked like this when we were there in October. It drops down at this point to run beneath the abbey in important ways, like flushing the toilets. But in mid-June 2007, swollen by torrential rains, the entire valley was flooded and the waters roiled over the top of the abbey walls. Hard to imagine, especially for someone who lives in 9-inches-of-rain-if-we're-lucky Coronado CA. Much devastation at the abbey and for miles in both directions, but as the river scoured the Skell River Valley, it also uncovered ruins that hadn’t been seen for centuries. More revelations about the Fountains Abbey yet to come!

Never underestimate the curiosity of people about the everyday essentials of life, whatever the century. Our attentive tour group became positively giddy to learn that Cistercian monks were permitted no underwear, and they swarmed to take pictures of the abbey loo. Here it is. Beyond the arches were boards, some with round holes, for the men to do their business. Beneath them, the River Skell transported the doings to where they settled and became fertilizer.

Here's one of the giddy, curious tourists having her picture took at the toilets. Standing, mind you, leaning against one of the arches.

Then, moving from the necessary to the sublime, we entered what was left of a magnificent church. Imagine the stained glass that once filled the enormous window at the far end of the church nave.
I'd love to show more pictures of this splendid building, but I'm out of space and you must be out of time. Alicia and I were running out of time as well, because we had big plans for the rest of the afternoon.

But first we walked alongside the river, which widens as it emerges from underneath the abbey, to the Studley Royal water gardens. Serene, nearly deserted, the placid waters and grassy verges and clusters of trees took our breath away. We followed two magisterial swans as far as we could and then broke away to return to the parking lot.

A blessed day. Until we set out for the town of Hawes deep in the Yorkshire Dales. Tuesday was market day in Hawes, and we were on a mission: Enjoy a small-town market experience and buy some local cheese.

Needless to say, Things Did Not Go Well.