From The Abbeys of Great Britain, by H. Claiborne Dixon, London: T. Werner Laurie (undated); pp. 17-18.
(Benedictine)
’MIDST the wild breakers and the thundering sea, an oasis in the desert of water, lies Holy Island, not far separated from the rude coast of Northumberland; and in this island rise the remains of a once stately edifice, the Abbey of Lindisfarne. It must not be supposed that the remains now standing are those of the original Celtic monastery, established by the St Aidan, for, when the Danes, with irresistible force, invaded our island in 875, almost without warning, the old Abbey of Lindisfarne was utterly destroyed and the body of the saintly Cuthbert borne across the narrow waters by the monks, mid the glare of conflagration. Not one single stone of 18 this monastery remains; the present ruins are those of a Benedictine priory, founded in the 11th century by a band of holy fathers from Whitby, who, eager to possess themselves of the land made sacred by the names of St Aidan, St Cuthbert, and those men who died at the hands of the Viking Invaders, determined to raise yet another stately building, and to make it their home.
For three and a half centuries, since the last prior, Thomas Sparke, was ejected at the bidding of Henry VIII., desolation has reigned supreme; but Lindisfarne, though small, is well preserved. It was built of strong red sandstone carried laboriously from the mainland. It was, moreover, built especially to withstand the fury of the gale and the ferocity of the invader. The insatiable greed, however, of much more modern vandals, who despoiled it of the lead from the roofs, and the roofs from the walls, until all stood bare and desolate, compassed its destruction. This, coupled with years and years of neglect and petty stealing, has brought the abbey to its present state. The mighty red walls have crumbled and fallen away, the tower lies a heap of little more than dust, the vaults have completely disappeared, but much yet remains to bear witness to the self-sacrifice and devotion of these early communities. As regards architecture, Lindisfarne is strongly in the English-Norman style. There is none of the Saxon here, as Scott would have us believe — “In Saxon strength that abbey frowned,” he says. Lindisfarne, if we except the sanctuary — which belongs to the 15th century — is perhaps the most perfect example of 11th century architecture in England. The abbey does not receive the patronage it deserves, for it is a spot with unrivalled historical and sacred memories — a place full of melancholy splendour and barren grandeur.