“Cuthbert’s skill in speaking was so great, his power of persuasion so vast, and the light of his countenance so angelic that no one in his presence concealed from him the secrets of his soul: all confessed their misdeeds, because they thought that what they had done could not escape his prescience, and atoned for them by such penance as he enjoined.”
When the mother abbey of Lindisfarne required a new prior, Cuthbert was appointed, and after fulfilling his religious duties here for twelve years retired to an island to live the life of a recluse. After eight years had elapsed he became Bishop of Lindisfarne, where at the end of three years’ work he was buried. His shroud was made by the abbess of Tynemouth, and his tomb visited for many years by hundreds of pilgrims. When in 875 Lindisfarne was attacked by the Danes the monks fled for safety, carrying with them the relics of St Cuthbert, and, after visiting many places, in the hope of escaping the enemy, placed them finally in the woods of Durham. The humble church, which in course of time was built there to guard the sacred remains, preceded the present magnificent cathedral of Durham “half church of God, half citadel, ‘gainst the Scots.” In the meantime the settlement of Melrose had prospered, but in 839 was burnt down by Kenneth MacAlpine and remained a desolate ruin for nearly two centuries. Good King David I. “that sair saunt for the crown,” then founded the abbey, in which for several centuries the Cistercian monks laboured--cultivating the land and instituting law and order amongst the country folk of the district.
Dire as was the fate of the English abbeys, that of the Scottish religious houses was immeasurably more bitter. Robbed, ruined, sacked and burned, the once mighty edifices have fallen the prey to thrifty citizens, who, careful of their own future, assigned to themselves various portions of the land and buildings, with the result that in close proximity to many of these buildings, modern and inartistic huts, workshops and inns may be seen. Melrose is particularly unfortunate in these vandalisms. Incredible as it may seem, the Abbey Hotel actually encroaches upon the hallowed nave, and a great amount of the space occupied by the former grounds and buildings is now disfigured by cheap dwellings and crowded gardens. The local presbytery of 1618 deserve even more contumely for their hideous disfigurement of the three bays of the nave that still remained, which were rebuilt, and walled in in most ruthless fashion.