A "Midnight Spree" at the Vicarage

For centuries, the crocketed pinnacles of the tower of St. Goran's church, though a mile in from the sea, have been one of the landmarks to mariners sailing the often stormy waters of south Cornwall. In 1862, the Rev. David Jenkins had been vicar in the remote parish for nearly forty years. His vicarage was at Polgorran House, a fine home built of slatestone rubble and a short distance from the church. The main rooms overlooked a large garden. In the rear of the house, connected by a hallway, was the servants' cottage. On a Cornish night in early May 1862, the Rev. Mr. Jenkins said the evening prayers for the household, that is, his daughter and their two female servants. At ten o'clock, he locked up for the night. 

The vicar had been recently troubled by noises. Before midnight, he heard them again. Grabbing his (unloaded) gun, the vicar sent his daughter to the village. She soon returned with five stout men. Meanwhile, Jenkins had traced the noises to the bedroom shared by the servants. From the lawn outside, the vicar demanded the door be opened, threatening to shoot anyone who came out the window. There were the sounds of a mad scramble within. When the door was finally opened and all the occupants accounted for, there were six people in the room: the two servants, including Caroline Solomon, the cook, the village schoolmistress and three local men: James Huxtable, Mr. Gully's butler, Sam Kerkin, the grocer and George Colenso, a local constable, no less. Quite a party had been going on, apparently. The vicar was furious to find what were called "the fragments of an entertainment," including the remains of two pasties (made of pork and eggs), a piece of pork, bread and butter, part of a rhubarb tart, cups and saucers, a tea canister, cream and milk and a teapot warming on the fire. 

The Rev Mr Jenkins sacked his servants on the spot but opted to press charges against the three men under the Vagrant Act. At the petty sessions in St. Austell, the men were tried for entering the vicarage for an unlawful purpose, i.e., feloniously converting the vicar's property (the food, cutlery and crockery) to their use. They were all found guilty and given a month's hard labour at Bodmin gaol. 

The little tale of the "Midnight Spree at the Vicarage" aroused considerable interest, far beyond Cornwall. Many felt the punishment was overly harsh. The verdict was stayed while the case was appealed. It took most of a year before Kerkin et al v Jenkins was heard in London before the Lord Chief Justice and a panel of High Court judges.

This minor fracas in a distant village presented an interesting and important domestic issue. Not for nothing were servants warned that "no followers" were allowed below stairs. The vicar's cook certainly had no right to sanction this private supper party from her master's larder. While that was plainly true, the court was reminded that the cook had been fired. The men were going to prison. The counsel for the threesome argued that their intent on going to the vicarage that night had simply been a romantic one: they went a-wooing their lady friends. Surely it was improper for them to be there but they had not gone to the vicarage with any felonious intent - the snack board that had been put out for them by their hostesses was only "incidental to their lovemaking." 

The Lord Chief Justice, Sir Alexander Cockburn, himself a "notorious ladies man," seemed to enjoy the argument. He said if it was a crime for a lady to invite a policeman in for a piece of cold meat and a cuppa, English magistrates would be kept quite busy. In the end, the Lord Chief convinced his colleagues, amid some grumbling, to quash the convictions. [Constable Colenso was actually promoted to Sergeant in the Cornish Constabulary.]

The Rev. Mr. Jenkins remained vicar of St. Goran's until his lamented death in 1869.

Clerical Errors - A Victorian Series Vol. 2 is available here.

"The Love Trials of a London Curate"

On 30 May 1878, an announcement appeared in the Births column of the London Standard: 

DUCHESNE— May 24, at the house of the Rev. G. Vasey, 47, Highbury Park, Mrs. Robert Duchesne, of Highbury-hill, of twins, baptised George and Robert.

The clergyman mentioned was the Rev. George Vasey, curate of St. Saviour’s, Highbury. He had had enough. This had to stop.

The 32-year old curate had been in the North London parish since 1873. In addition to his church work, assisting Canon Moore, Vasey had started a private prep school for boys which had achieved some excellent results. He had been assisted financially by Robert Duchesne, a merchant grocer in the City. Mrs. Mary Duchesne and her daughter, Florence, had been helpful in other ways, fitting out the school with linens, crockery and the like. The previous December, the Rev. Mr. Vasey and 20-year old Florence Duchesne were married at Christ Church, Highbury.

It was a well-known fact that a young bachelor curate would always be “a considerable attraction to the young ladies of the neighbourhood.” Upon word of his engagement, the Rev. Vasey received a visit from Miss Maud Cooper. Maud insisted that the curate had previously pledged himself to her sister, Lucy, who was understandably heartsick. Vasey denied any such courtship and, certainly, Lucy's feelings were not reciprocated. Anonymous letters began arriving around Highbury a short time later. 

These “abominable libels,” not only targeted the clergyman but also his new mother-in-law, Mrs. Mary Duchesne. “Your wife is still going on in her old habits,” read a note sent to Mr. Duchesne. The sender threatened Duchesne: put a stop to it or “you will be hissed in the streets.” One of the teachers at the school received a letter asking why she would work at an institution where such “shameful conduct” was allowed. The writer accused Mrs. Duchesne of “walking out” with Mr. Vasey whenever her husband was away. Canon Moore, the patron of the parish, of course, would get a letter. Why had he not put a stop to this “grievous scandal?” No man was safe with Mrs. Duchesne whose house was known as “the bad house on Highbury Hill.” After services one Sunday, Lucy Cooper actually confronted Mrs. Duchesne and asked, "Aren't these scandals terrible?" Then came the "twins" announcement in The Standard.

The merged cases of Duchesne v. Cooper and Vasey v. Cooper took place at the Law Courts in May 1879. The plaintiffs asserted that the sisters Cooper, spinsters in their 30’s, were behind all of it. Vasey testified that he only met the Cooper ladies through his church work. He had no relationship of any kind with Lucy Cooper. Both Mr. Vasey and Mrs. Duchesne testified before Judge Sir Henry Hawkins, denying any improprieties had occurred between them. Vasey presented to the court one signed letter in which Lucy berated him and declared that she never wanted to see him again. Charles Chabot, London’s go-to man for handwriting analysis, was examined. He had compared the anonymous letters with Lucy's letter and other items written by the sisters, he concluded that the offending letters were mainly in the hand of Miss Lucy, but some had been written by Miss Maud Cooper.

The attorney for the sisters Cooper assured the court his clients did not write the letters, moreover, they wished to make clear for the record that they absolutely repudiated the improper and immoral imputations contained therein. Lucy and Maud each took the stand to deny sending any of these offensive notes. In fact, each sister claimed to have receive similar offensive letters.  

Two days into the trial, Judge Hawkins met with lawyers for each side. He clearly felt the Cooper ladies were guilty. He was sure the jury would agree with him. To allow the case to go to the jury for a verdict would expose the sisters to perjury charges and no one wanted that. The evidence had fully contradicted the abominable imputations against Rev. Vasey and Mrs. Duchesne, which was why they came to court in the first place. Let's leave it at that, Hawkins suggested. The case was allowed to end without a verdict. A kindly outcome managed by the judge they called "Hangin' Hawkins."

The Rev. and Mrs. Vasey, with their growing family, remained in Highbury for several more years. Their in-laws (eventually) moved to Essex.

St. Saviour's is now an art studio. It is a listed building, remembered as being once the subject of a Betjeman poem, the "great red church of my parents."