The Runaway Vicar

 "There is prevailing in English society a refined poverty of a class to which public attention is being directed with a view to its alleviation." By the late Victorian years, the numbers of impoverished clergymen was growing. One such reverend gentlemen was the Rev Hugh Courtenay Downman, vicar of the church of Sts Peter & Paul in Easton Maudit, a "small but pleasant" village in Northants. 

On Good Friday 1899, Mr. Downman did not appear for the solemn services of Holy Week. There were reports that he'd been seen boarding a train for London at Wellingborough. Downman had only been in the village a brief time; much of his clerical career had been abroad at various chaplaincies, from China to Barcelona. He had married the widow of a British officer out in India. Poor Mrs. Downman was pitied by all, abandoned by her husband while bailiffs circled the parsonage. 

Three weeks passed before Downman returned to the village. According to numerous published reports, the "runaway vicar" received a "lively but discordant reception" from his "neglected and indignant flock." The vicar was serenaded with the usual "rough music" of villagers banging pots and pans, showing their disgust by creating a general din. The Telegraph reported that the members of the small congregation had begged their bishop to remove Downman and a new vicar was being sought for Easton Maudit. 

Downman had come home newly determined to retain his position; he had been appointed to the parish by the Marquis of Northampton. To get his financial affairs in order; Downman submitted himself to the bankruptcy court. He also filed a series of libel suits against the newspapers which had reported on his departure and skulking return.

In London before Justice Grantham, Downman explained that his parish was very poor, providing him with about £110 per year. The resulting financial and domestic troubles left him practically unhinged. Therefore, in "temporary aberration," he left the day before Good Friday. He had not abandoned his wife but regularly communicated with her and, on her appeal, he returned. There was no such demonstration as the papers had reported, maybe a few village lads with tin whistles, no more. The Bishop had not replaced him. 

The united newspapers in the dock employed excellent counsel, claiming the suit was a simple money grab by the desperate clergyman hoping to pay his bills. Downman admitted that, despite his penury, he had recently purchased a new dog cart and drawing room furniture. He denied dipping into the village "clothing fund" which he managed. As for his devoted wife, Downman conceded that - without her private means - matters would have been much worse. She was the security for many of his debts yet he left her without warning, meaning his creditors would have come after her. Downman said he was so "mentally upset" at the time, he was not responsible for his actions. Had she told him that she would lend him no more money? She had. 

There was much discussion of the noise that greeted the vicar's return, if a village of 100 souls could create that much disturbance. Downman insisted he heard no more than a few whistles. Even that, he denounced as "a monstrous, un-Christian thing to do to a man in trouble."

The jury of Londoners had heard enough from this impecunious rustic cleric and told the judge they wished to give their verdict to the defendants. The Rev Downman remained in Easton Maudit without any notable issues until 1904. He and his forgiving wife returned to the continent where life was always more affordable.