This website created by Valerie Martin, contains scenes from her home village of Findon, West Sussex, U.K.

MEMORABLE STORIES OF MEMORABLE VICARS

Copyright Valerie Martin 2000

First published in Along the Furlong, February 2003.

Even though St. John the Baptist Church is severed from the village by the A24, it is still the heart of the village. It has been the solid, unshakeable symbol of Findon heritage and a vital nucleus of the rural community for as long as the village has existed. Generations come and go. The Findon landscape and the houses may change and change again, but the church stays put. Here are some memorable stories of Findon vicars that I have come across —

Many centuries ago the Church was riddled with corruption. The monastic houses often kept the Findon tithes for themselves as did the great barons, such as William de Braose, Lord of the Rape of Bramber, who controlled Findon.

Even when the Church insisted on parishes having incumbent priests, many vicars managed to be appointed to more than one. An early memorable Rector of Findon was Galfridus (Geoffrey) de Haspale (sometimes spelt Aspall), who held that position for some eleven years in the thirteenth century. He was found to be cashing in to an exorbitant degree on what at was known as "the fine art of pluralising". As well as being the Rector of Findon, he was also profiting from a benefice in London. He held a grand total of seventeen offices around the countryside. It is wondered if the Findon parishioners ever saw him at all to receive his personal ministrations from the years 1276 until 1287.

Thomas Hedge, who held the roll of vicar in Findon in 1526, was entitled to benefices in Suffolk at the same time as Findon and must have been a busy man considering that travel was still none too easy in those days. These scandals of absentee vicars led to campaigns by early Bishops of Chichester to endeavour to provide parishes with priests who would serve the people.

Some quaint Findon records of diverse kinds are connected with the history of St. John the Baptist Church and are worth recalling. The 17th and 18th century villagers were less ignorant of the outside world than we perhaps imagine. This is clear from the list in the parish register of causes for which collections were made in Findon. The villagers have been remarkably generous over the years considering the size of the community.

For instance in 1607, I have discovered an unlikely collection was made for "captives in Barbary". I wonder if the inhabitants of Findon knew anything of Barbary and even knew that it was in western North Africa. In 1633 another collection was made for a cause closer to home. That of the reparation of St. Paul’s Cathedral in the City of London.  Kindly donations flooded in from the rural community of Findon whose inhabitants had mostly likely not visited London. This amounted to the grand sum of 6s.8d. In 1653 another collection was made for a fire at Marlborough.

Other offertories at the church over the centuries have been to assist the affliction of individuals, for loss by fire etc., in all parts of England and Wales; for such as captives of the Turks; for

"pore distressed pepell"

— these were in Poland; and for the inhabitants of Esthalonia (Estonia on the south side of the Gulf of Finland).

The Reverend Charles Pilkington was Vicar of Findon in 1790. This was a year to go down in history with its notable absence of marriages in Findon — no couple was married at the church in Findon during the whole of that year. What happened to the ardent rustic village lovers? The Reverend was not idle, he was kept busy with burying the dead and baptising the new born. 

At times in the past there has been what could be called a lack of reverence in the house of God, which now brings a smile to my lips and makes an unforgettable anecdote. A former Vicar of Findon, who was apparently remembered for his unconventionality, if nothing else, was preaching in the St. John the Baptist Church one Sunday morning. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He had by chance seen his Clerk, Mr. Holford, just about to enter the small vestry to the south of the chancel. The vicar looked displeased and paused in annoyance in mid sentence. Looking as black as his gown, he bellowed out for the congregation to hear,

"Holford —  what are you doing in there?".

There was a moment’s embarrassing silence as the congregation held its breath.  It is recorded that suddenly Mr. Holford popped his head back round the door and replied in a surprised and rather hurt tone of voice,

"I’m — jus gooin to tend the fire, Sir".

"No, you are not. You’re after my sherry. Come out of it", came the stern reply from the pulpit.

Mr. Holford, no doubt, took a back seat during the rest of the day and did not surface again until it was time to snuff out the candles when the evening service was over.

This sporting vicar was almost as well known on the hunting field and racecourse as in the church. When one of his favourite race meetings fell on a Monday, it would require him to start off for the racecourse on the Sunday afternoon which was rather inconvenient. On such occasions after a somewhat speedy Morning Service (and disappearance of the vicar) the clerk would casually announce to one and all in the congregation—

"There wunt be no even sarvice, seeing parson be gooin' to the races t'day".

The explanation was acceptable to one and all.  Maybe the vicar's concern was the spiritual welfare of the racing men who were far from devout and he decided to take the word to the racecourse?

Another former vicar of St. John the Baptist in the nineteenth century was both a naturalist and a philosopher. His one failing was his well-known absent-mindedness. On one occasion he was busily at work sawing down a beech tree at the Glebe on School Hill. Being of this forgetful nature and, no doubt humming away to himself and perhaps planning his next sermon, he carefully and completely cut through the bough. Oh, I forgot to mention it was the very bough he was perched upon. The result of his untimely folly was a bad tumble when the branch crashed downwards with the vicar still sitting on it. The unfortunate accident caused the good man some everlasting lameness from which he was never to completely recover.

This is Findon Village — www.findonvillage.com is a continually growing record created exclusively for documenting life in Findon.