A monastery did not run itself. It was not only a place where prayers were said and books were copied; it was a place where people ate and drank and wore out shoes and clothes, cared for the sick, managed a school, and entertained as if it were a great hotel. There was a vast amount of work to be done, and a vast amount of thinking was needed to manage the work and see that nothing was left at loose ends. Wool and linen for clothing were raised on convent lands, spun and woven, cut out and made on the spot. Cattle were raised and the skins tanned for shoes. Vegetables and fruit grew in the convent gardens; grain was grown in the fields of the establishment and was ground in the convent mill. Grapes were grown for wine, and bees were kept for honey. There were carpenters, masons, fishers, hunters, blacksmiths, and bakers. Guests were always coming and going. There were pilgrims, both humble and of rank, minstrels, merchants, jugglers, pedlars, nobles, sometimes even a king and his suite; and all were to be looked after and treated according to their degree. This was the hospitality that was shown to Columbus and his little son at the Spanish of La Rabida, and that opened the way for his voyage to the New World.

All these different departments of a convent must be cared for, and there must be some one person responsible for each. At the head of the whole establishment was the abbot; in his absence his place was filled by the prior. The care of money, clothing, and keeping the accounts was in the hands of the chamberlain, and he had also the responsibility of the archives, or records of the convent. The librarian had charge of whatever books there were and also of the copying room. The gold and silver chalices and other vessels used in the service and the ornaments of the altar were often encrusted with costly jewels. Then, too, there were relics of the saints, and if these could cure the lame, heal the sick, and open the eyes of the blind, they were surely of much greater value than all the gold and gems, to say nothing of the amount of gifts made to the convent by the grateful people who had been healed. These were cared for and guarded by the sacristan. It was no small task to look after the food and drink for hundreds of people, for the well and the ill, for monks, for young novices, who were trying the life before taking their final vows, for servants, for pupils of the school, for the little children who had been given to the convent. This was the work of the cellarer. But it was only a part of his work, for he must always be ready for guests of all kinds and degrees. Perhaps these guests were only a little band of the humblest pilgrims who would be more than satisfied with the simplest fare; and perhaps they were a noble with his followers, or even a prince or a king. Whoever came, whether one or a large company, the cellarer must always be ready to treat each one according to his rank. No bill was presented. The hospitality was a free gift to all; but it was expected that those who were able to pay would make a gift to their entertainers. Sometimes these guests or other friends of the convent presented large sums of money or even manors, whose income was to be given to the poor. Distributing this charity was enough to keep one man, the almoner, busy; for the poor and needy never failed to flock about the convent gate. Indeed, only part of this work could be done by the almoner; and if any of the poor folk or any monks were ill, they had to be given into the hands of the infirmarius for care and treatment. These were only a few of the offices. There was a terrier, who had special care of the guest rooms; a porter who guarded the gate and saw to it that no one entered who had not a right to be admitted; a chantor, who took charge of the choral service and taught the monks to sing. There was a master of the novices who taught them to work and to meditate and to behave themselves properly in all respects. He even cared for their dress, and it was his business to get from the chamberlain the cowls, gowns, shoes, bedding, and other things that they needed. In every large convent, each division of the work and management required so much care and responsibility that there was hardly any limit to the number of officials.

The accounts of the convent were kept most minutely. There were no "sundries." Every dish, even every nail, must be accounted for, and the sheets must balance to the half of a farthing. Most convents were the "lords" of manors, sometimes a large number of manors; and even to keep the accounts of these, to say nothing of attending to their cultivation and the sale of the produce, must have been an enormous amount of work.

However earnestly a monk might wish to withdraw himself from the world, it was impossible for a large monastery to avoid having constant dealings with outsiders. Besides the buying and selling which were always necessary, a town frequently grew up on convent land, as has been said before, and therefore paid taxes to the convent. But as the town grew larger and more independent, the townsfolk protested against these taxes, while the convent struggled as emphatically to collect them. Sometimes the contest came to a real hand to hand fight. In this the monks were not helpless by any means, for an abbot who controlled a number of manors could often call out several hundred men to take up arms for him. In one case in England the monks stood by their ancient right of grinding the townsfolk's corn and charging them a good price for so doing. The townsfolk, on the other hand, declared that in future they should grind their own corn. The quarrel grew, and the townsfolk actually besieged the convent for more than ten days before an agreement was reached. There were also quarrels with bishops and nobles, which then led to lawsuits, if not to blows and sieges. The monks took the stand that they owed obedience to the Pope and to no one else. But a convent was in the diocese of some bishop, and as time passed, most monks were ordained. Therefore the bishop naturally claimed some control over them. Such disagreements were sometimes settled by the archbishop, but oftener they were appealed to the Pope. It was excellent policy for monks and nobles to be friendly; but they watched each other like cats and dogs. Nobles who knew themselves about to die and who hoped to win pardon for their sins by a rather belated generosity often made large gifts to convents. Naturally, the monks were pleased and the heirs of the nobles were not; and often it was a question which side would succeed in keeping hold of the land or treasure.

The work done by the monasteries of the Middle Ages was of the utmost value. In agriculture alone it can hardly be too highly estimated. The monks were the most skillful farmers of the time. They usually settled themselves in some desolate place. They cleared away the forests. They drained the swamps, and made the waste land into fruitful fields and gardens. They built roads and bridges. To the poor and oppressed the convents were friends and helpers. They lessened the burdens of the villeins on their own estates, and by their example those of the toilers on the lands of the nobles. They carried on schools, and in an age of the sword and the lance they maintained interest in education. They saved classical literature and much history of manners and customs, as well as records of the events of their own day. Moreover, however wealthy and perhaps luxurious some of the orders may have become, they stood, nevertheless, before the greedy sovereigns and the lawless barons as reminders that they had been founded by men to whom riches and comfort were nothing in comparison with lives made pleasing to God.