The Besieged Clergyman

In the late 18th century, a guidebook to Kent asserted, “the village of Cowden has nothing worth notice in it.” The church of St. Mary Magdalene was described as tiny and “mean,” and the spire is “notably crooked.” The wealthy Harvey family of Tunbridge were longtime patrons of the church. Their son, the Rev. Thomas Harvey, became rector in 1785 and served fifty years until his death, followed by his son, a second Rev. Thomas Harvey who was the rector for another 43 years until his death in 1878. When the old rector finally shuffled off, in his will, he exercised his right as the parish patron, to present the rectory to his son, the Rev. Henry Gordon Harvey. The appointment was worth £600 a year. Such designations were, however, subject to the approval of the diocesan bishop. It was rarely a problem. Unfortunately, the Archbishop of Canterbury “absolutely refused” to even consider the Rev. Henry Gordon Harvey. 

Rev. Harvey, the son and grand-son of such respected men, had been educated at Trinity College, Cambridge and ordained in 1853. He never held any official church position during the 25 clerical years that passed while he waited for his father to die and to succeed to the family pulpit. Instead, he acquired some property and did a spot of gentleman farming on 130 acres near Godalming.

Part of the reason for the Rev. Harvey’s clerical inactivity was illness related. He had been very ill with fever in 1858, requiring constant care. It was then he met Martha Anne Bulbeck, a nurse from Brighton. As she nursed the young clergyman to health, they formed a romantic relationship which would lead eventually to three illegitimate children, only one still living at the time of this story. The Rev. Harvey and Martha were finally married, if quietly, at St. Dunstan’s in the West, Fleet Street, in 1869. Since the marriage, while residing in Godalming, they had three more children.

Following his father’s death, Rev. Harvey submitted the required particulars to the Archbishop. He presented the required written testimonials from four clergymen of the diocese. In response to some gossip, Rev. Harvey assured the Archbishop’s secretary that he had married his wife as soon as possible after their first “connexion.” He had most certainly not lived with his wife before that marriage and none of his children were illegitimate. Without a great deal of effort, these statements were found to be false. The Archbishop, the Most Rev. A.C. Tait, announced that he would refuse to permit the Rev. Mr. Harvey to become the rector of Cowden, citing the immoral life that he had led and his “misleading statements” regarding his marriage. 

Joined by his aged mother who stood by him, the Rev. Mr. Harvey sued the Archbishop in civil court. Under the Clergy Discipline Act of the day, any moral charges against a clergyman had to be brought within two years of the date of the alleged offense. His “offense” had taken place over ten years in the past and, certainly, he had purged that immorality by his marriage and blameless life since. Harvey conceded that he had kept that early relationship a secret to spare a blameless woman from disgrace. Harvey also presented a statement claiming the support of 94 out of the 100 parishioners of St. Mary Magdalene.

The church countered by calling two of the clergymen who had signed those testimonials. One of them, Rev. Harvey’s own cousin, testified that he had been misled. Had he known the truth he would not have written the letter. The case was heard without a jury by Lord Chief Justice Coleridge in 1879 who quickly found for the Church. 

The Rev. R. Abbey Tindall from Manchester was announced as the new rector of Cowden in 1880 but the handover did not go well. The Rev. Harvey left the rectory taking with him several “titles and other documents” the church wanted back. He refused to surrender them. By 1883, he was living in Dover, where he locked himself and his family in his home. Food was passed to them through a window. Harvey refused to admit the Sheriff of Kent who presented an order for that paperwork. “The besieged clergyman” wrote to the local papers warning that, should the authorities try to break in, he had “a revolver in readiness.” In 1884, a court upheld the tradition that an Englishman's home is his castle and the sheriff did not have the authority to break down doors and would have to find some other way to proceed. 

Somehow it was all settled. The Rev. Tindall spent many years in Cowden, “one of the most charmingly situated parishes in Kent.” The Rev. Henry Gordon Harvey died elsewhere in Kent in 1908.

 

The Perplexing Situation of the Rev Henry White.

Vanity Fair (26 Dec 1874)

In 1890, the Rev. Henry White was named chaplain to the House of Commons. A "cheery gentleman," White was one of London's best-known and most popular clergymen and the incumbent of the Chapel Royal, Savoy. He performed innumerable weddings being a special favourite of the acting profession. White was 57, unmarried himself, and lived in splendid rooms in Lancaster Place overlooking the Thames. He lived well, moved in the best circles and was known to be "fond of Brighton and the Grand Hotel." So, what was a washerwoman doing with his very-expensive gold watch?

Mr. Tattle, a suspicious pawnbroker in the Kensal Road, told police that 21 year old Eliza Hilborn brought the watch to his shop. The watch-back was engraved: "From his Chapel Royal congregation. Presented in token of their respect and admiration. Christmas Day 1864.” A constable was summoned. The watch was taken to the Rev. White who identified it as his and said it had been stolen by pickpockets on the Underground. In Marylebone Police Court, however, the young lady's story was quite different.

Miss Hilborn, who appeared quite frightened, said she met a man near Paddington Station. They got to talking and, as will happen, they went to a private hotel in Praed Street where they ordered coffee and a room. They dallied pleasantly until the man realised he was about to miss his train for Willesden and bolted for the station, forgetting his watch. "The accused" insisted she'd done her best to trace the owner but without success. Rev. White identified the watch as his but insisted he was certainly not the man in her story. "Don't you know me, sir," Eliza interrupted. "No, I never saw you before," the clergyman responded. There was great excitement in the small room as the two exchanged sharp claims and denials. 

According to White's tale of the watch, he was riding the Underground in December. He was not a strong man and, in the heat and smoke - “overcome by the atmosphere” - he fell asleep. There were two men sitting very close to him. When he woke, they were gone and so was his watch. He always presumed they stole it. How Miss Hilborn got the watch, he could not say.    

The case was remanded for a week and with "everybody talking about the perplexing situation of the Rev Henry White," more than the usual number of reporters crowded the Marylebone police court. They met with disappointment. "While everybody expected an unusual sensation, it was hushed up and disposed of in a remarkably quick manner.” The magistrate (Cooke) said the recent history of this handsome watch was unknowable with any certainty. Miss Hilborn's version might be true but she very likely misidentified the Rev. White. To proceed against her would require the clergyman to face serious questions on the witness stand. In the public interest, Cooke would dismiss all charges and the presentation watch was re-presented to Rev. White who left the building "beaming affably."

A few months later, having spent some time traveling on the continent, Rev. White returned to London. He died suddenly in October, from a heart attack in bed. His doctor told the inquest that he'd warned his patient about the risks of overwork. He was buried in Brompton Cemetery. A bust was commissioned for a memorial in the Chapel Royal. The Rev. Henry White was much lamented, the Queen included; HRH considered him her favourite preacher.