1537 A.D. – Dissolution

The shock had first struck Roger Pele, when, as the newly appointed Abbot he arrived to take up his position at the Abbey at Furness. Roger was expecting new responsibilities, but he had not expected this. Not in the wildest reaches of his imagination. He was quite simply astounded. In fact, even that word did not do justice to his feelings. He was a man of modest means and his life had been devoted to prayer. He cared nothing for politics with its web of intrigues.

He could not contain his amazement on reading the document his Prior, Brian, had handed him. First, that such an isolated Abbey had aroused the interests of not one but two Popes. And second, that he should still be bound in to such a plot hundreds of years later. He was sure that his predecessor would have loathed being put in this position. But apparently, for all of Abbot Alexander Bankes’s Machiavellian skills, he had been unable to wriggle out of this particular responsibility.

Even five years after taking office Abbot Roger could still feel the sense of surprise. Even more he could feel the weight of history on his shoulders. He thought of all the Abbots from William onwards, who had kept the secret safe. But the other Abbots had not lived in times like his.

Across Europe, many expert theologians were rebelling against the authority of the Catholic Church. They railed against corrupt officials, the worship of saints and intricately decorated churches that resembled palaces more than places of worship.

There was a desire amongst many to return to a simpler version of Christianity. The Church was too wealthy ran the argument. Of course the monasteries were one of the most obvious aspects of that wealth. And the Abbey at Furness was the second richest in the whole of England.

The reform movement was sweeping the country, as well as the continent. Cromwell and Cramner’s men were wreaking havoc throughout the land. And King Henry VIII was of course, a fervent supporter. Albeit, that it may just be a ploy to get his own way in the marriage game. By 1537 the reformers held positions of great influence throughout the kingdom and Abbot Roger feared for the very existence of the Abbey itself. The matter of the mission from the past could not be uppermost in his thoughts.

It was a wet, drizzly spring morning and the Abbot was at Whalley Abbey, waiting for his appointment with the King’s Commissioners. These were turbulent and frightening times for any monk. As he ruminated on what the verdict might be, he thought back to how things could have come to this.

Three years previously, a team of ecclesiastical lawyers appointed by the King had visited the Abbey at Furness. When they’d departed, a friar, Robert Legate, had been left behind. His role had been presented as ensuring the monks kept to their Cistercian rules. But Roger had suspicions that the friar was acting as a spy for the King’s chief advisor, Thomas Cromwell. Roger knew Cromwell, for it was he who had appointed him to his position at the Abbey.

The next few years had seen tense times in Furness. The Abbot suspected that many of the monks would have liked to have joined the rebellion against the King’s reforms known as the Pilgrimage of Grace, but could not get enough local support. However, four canons from Cartmel Priory along with ten laymen had been hanged for treason in March of that year.

Immediately after that there had been another investigation at Furness Abbey. The Abbot was waiting now at Whalley for the results of this fresh inquiry. He was waiting with some foreboding. Eventually, he heard his name called.

The meeting was worse than he had feared. The game was clearly up. With a heavy heart Roger headed back to Furness.

The denouement came on a beautiful, warm day. The entire collection of the Abbey’s monks, numbering near thirty in all, were spread amongst the vaulted rooms which bordered the well groomed grass of the cloisters. The bright light of the midday sun bounced off the lush green of the grass and illuminated the deep red of the sandstone walls. A table had been set up on one of the courtyard paths and a scribe was seated behind, holding open a large parchment. He read out the terms of the Abbey’s dissolution.

Once started it did not take long for the process of destruction to gain a terrible momentum. The community disappeared. The monks gone, beggars sent away, sheep sold. And then Robert Southwell, the receiver of the Court of Augmentations had been appointed as the King’s Representative for the Abbey’s physical destruction. It was his role to survey the Abbey’s grounds and to make the buildings uninhabitable.

Labourers were employed and the next weeks saw them using ropes and scaffolding to remove the lead from all of the roofs. Many of the great sandstone blocks were broken up and used by locals as building material.