In 1841, the Bishop of London, the Right Rev. CJ Blomfield, consecrated the new church of St. Peter in de Beauvoir town, a planned suburb for the middle classes in Hackney, two miles north of the City. The prelate was also pleased to announce that the Hon. and Rev. Frederick Smyth Monckton was to be the perpetual curate of the new parish. The young clergyman certainly arrived with much to his favour. Only 30, he'd been ordained after his studies at Christ Church, Oxford. He was also the son of the late 5th and brother of the 6th Viscount Galway.
Rev. Monckton was unmarried and set up his small establishment in the Parsonage House in de Beauvoir square. People will talk, of course, when a young single cleric finds the need to employ three, sometimes more, young and comely female servants. When challenged, he snapped, "Damn, I'll have fifty if I want." The gossip continued; visitors to the parsonage reported the Rev. Monckton was most often to be found below stairs, in the kitchen, surrounded by his "maids," smoking, drinking and singing bawdy songs. Attendance at St. Peter's fell off; in his church that seated 1000 souls, no more than a handful, usually including the clergyman's aged mother - were present to hear the Rev. Monckton's homily.
By 1844, the churchwardens notified the bishop who ordered a Diocesan Commission of Inquiry - the first to be held under the new rules of clergy discipline. For several days, before a panel of deans and deacons, witnesses aired their stories about Mr. Monckton, delighting the press which printed full details in lengthy columns. One neighbours, with a commanding view of the parsonage garden, observed a questionable scene. "His female servants were there with him. His demeanour was familiar and indecorous. One of the servants when stooping to weed was not decent, her dress being elevated more than was proper before her master." The lead accusers were Mr. and Mrs. Williams, who had managed the parish school until falling out with Rev. Monckton. They were regular visitors to the parsonage, witnesses to many unseemly outbursts, including the clergyman passed out on the floor. By far, the most serious charge before the panel was fornication. One of the servants, Sarah Huggins, carried herself as "the lady of the house" in finery far above her station. The previous year, Miss Huggins had taken a "holiday," when - it was alleged and she did not deny - she gave birth to stillborn twins. The Rev. Monckton was identified as the "gentleman" who visited her frequently during her confinement.
Under the rules of the day, the Rev. Monckton could not testify. His lawyer labeled the charges an atrocious conspiracy; false and calumnious accusations led by the vengeful Williams' and others with ceaseless malevolence. Even Monckton's supporting witnesses conceded that life at the parsonage might be considered too rollicking for some but it was all in good fun. Nothing improper had taken place between the clergyman and his household. As for Sarah Huggins, she assured the panel Mr. Monckton was not the father of her two dead babies. She blamed a "seafaring man" she'd known only briefly.
The commissioners took time to consider the evidence; the verdict was delivered by Dr. Lushington, the Vicar-General. They found no convincing evidence that Rev. Monckton was guilty of fornication or that he had taken any indecent liberties with "divers women." A charge of drunkenness also failed. However, "the conduct of Mr. Monckton with regard to the females residing in his family, and especially with regard to Sarah Huggins, was degrading to him as a clergyman of the Church of England, and had produced great scandal in the church." They would recommend to the bishop that some action be taken.
Rev. Monckton was suspended for twelve months from 1 June 1845. Some thought the censure was too light. "A clergyman undoubtedly possesses some privileges; but these can never be supposed to extend to taking a brace of young girls on his knees, continually smoking cigars in their society, laying hold of them in an indecent manner, getting roaring drunk and singing bawdy songs, and indulging habitually in ribaldry and obscene language."
The accused never resumed his duties in de Beauvoir town. His name disappeared from the annual clergy lists. He was just 50 when he died at Bath in May 1861, still identified as the the Hon. and Rev. Frederick Smyth Monckton.
How the Vicar Came and Went, a collection of Victorian clerical scandals, is now available at Amazon.
