Penrose Fry: The first five years

This is, I think, the most wonderful account by the co-founder of St Teresa's of the events around our foundation. Because of the scanning process there were quite a few spacing problems needing correction, but I thought I'd post it straight away to see how it looks, and how much space it takes up. Comments welcome, also if anyone would like their own paper copy please let me know.

THE FIRST FIVE YEARS
The following is a brief account of the five years ending in December 1935, which culminated in the opening of the Catholic Church of St. Teresa of Lisieux at Horns Cross, near Northiam in Sussex. This Catholic development was so unexpected and so rapid that it seems at times almost a romance; and I have been asked to put the story in paper, lest it be forgotten. This, alas, has happened in the case of many Catholic parishes, whose beginnings, since the close of the penal times, may have been just as remarkable.
The events are recorded more or less chronologically, and at the end I add some personal impressions. I have to apologise for the frequent mention of ourselves, but it seems impossible to avoid this, as in the circumstances my wife and I were concerned in everything that happened.
1929
June of the year 1929 found us living in London, where I was a curate on the staff of the high-Anglican church of St. Stephen in South Kensington, and where my wife was occupied with her literary work under her better known maiden name of Sheila Kaye-Smith. We had already fallen into the hands of the Little Flower, and her work for us had begun. First of all the property of Little Doucegrove, two miles from Northiam in Sussex was offered us, and we bought it. Soon after that my work at St. Stephen's was brought to an end by apparently natural processes. Next came the realisation that both my wife and I could no longer remain in the Church of England, (a situation we had each secretly seen approaching for some time); and finally, our reception into the Church, side by side, at the hands of Father Martindale at Farm Street. This was in October.
After a visit to Little Doucegrove we realised that in our new home we should be nine miles from the nearest Catholic Church, St. Anthony's at Rye. So in November or December we had an interview with Dr. Amigo, the Bishop of Southwark, in whose diocese we were to live. He welcomed us most kindly, and gave us permission to open a chapel and to have Mass in it whenever we could secure a priest, as he "wanted us to be happy in the Church". He attached the condition that any other Catholics who so desired should be able to come to the chapel at any time. He doubted, however, if there were any in the district, or if any priest were available.
1930
At the beginning of the year, while alterations were going on at Little Doucegrove, we went to Rome. There, at a "special" audience, the Holy Father (Pope Pius XI) blessed "all our intentions", and as regards our intentions for the chapel, that blessing has been amazingly fulfilled. After Rome, we went to Lisieux to visit the shrine of the Little Flower, and to place the chapel that was to be under her patronage.
During this time we had to buy some additional land, and we were inspired, as we now regard it, to secure with it the field on which the church of St. Teresa now stands. The original chapel was, of course, not yet opened, and we had no idea how it would turn out. But we had a great desire to see a Catholic church there some day, and we felt sure that the Little Flower would ultimately bring it
about. So strongly have we felt this all through, that in 1934 before there was any idea of a permanent church, we expressly reserved to ourselves with the local authorities the right to build one there at any time.
In September, at Mrs. Scrymsour-Nichol’s chapel at Benenden, ten miles away, we met Father Arthur Dudley, who was in charge of the Southwark Travelling Mission. We made friends with him, and he promised to add our chapel to the list of those he visited every quarter, when it should be ready.
November was occupied with the preparation of the chapel. It was realised that it would have to be where people could freely visit it as we had promised the Bishop, so a loft over the garage, lately a stable, was chosen. Outside access had already been arranged, and the interior was fitted up by the Art and Book Company as a very pleasing little oratory.
On December 4th Father Dudley arrived for his first visit. The next day he said the first Mass, which was a votive Mass of St. Teresa in the little chapel. There were seven people present. On the Sunday, the Second Sunday in Advent, no less than twenty—eight people turned up for Mass, and in the afternoon Benediction was given to fourteen people.
Thus Catholicism returned to this district for the first time since the Reformation, with the possible exception of an occasional secret Mass. For there is an unauthenticated tradition that Mass was said in penal times at the house now called Tufton Place, on the other side of Northiam. Anyhow, the corner in the village where the road turns to this house is still called "Superstition Corner". (My wife has used this tradition in her novel of the same name.)
In addition a real link was provided with the rest of the Catholic Church, and with our patron Saint, by her own Carmelite Convent at Lisieux in Normandy. This convent is still ruled by her sister by blood, Pauline, known in religion as Mere Agnes: while another of her sisters, Celine, is a member of the Order under the name of Sister Genevieve. These holy people were told of the setting up of this little chapel under the patronage of the Little Flower, and they sent a primary relic of her, with the formal authentication, to be kept in it.
This relic is now in the aumbry, which serves as a reliquary, in the sanctuary of St. Teresa's, the new church.
1931
After his first visit, the Missioner felt it advisable that something should be arranged to keep the newly gathered congregation together between his appearances, and suggested a monthly Mass. We ourselves were very glad to further this as we were in truth finding the pilgrimage of nine miles each way to Rye for Holy Communion very arduous in the winter, the more so because at this time the early Masses were only on weekdays, and the church heating functioned only on Sundays.
So arrangements were made with the Fathers of the African Missions at Ore Place, Hastings, to come out on the last Sunday in each month and hear Confessions and celebrate Mass. To our great
pleasure Dr. Mouren, the Rector, undertook to come himself, and started this monthly Mass on February 22nd, the First Sunday in Lent. This arrangement continued for nearly two years, at the end of which Mass was started every Sunday.
In March Father Dudley paid his second, and last visit, as Missioner, for the usual week-end. There were fifteen at Mass on the Sunday.
Unfortunately soon afterwards Father Dudley became seriously ill and had to give up his work for a time, so there was no visit from the Mission till the appointment of the Revd. G.A. Winham, D.D. in Father Dudley's place six months later. We were, therefore, very glad that we had started the monthly Mass, for it really did serve to keep our little congregation together till Father Winham gave us his first weekend on the Mission in September.
When he arrived, he was encouraged in his new work by the unexpected entrance of a lady to the chapel, enquiring for the priest, who stated that she had been outside the Church for many, many years, and could she be reconciled at once, please?
The development of the services had taxed the sacristy outfit, which was by no means complete. I had, like many high-Anglican clergy, a small collection of vestments and so on of my own, for in that religious body, those clergy who use Catholic externals never know when they may be called on to minister at a church which does not possess a rag of equipment. These things were all converted with me, and we got together during 1931 at least everything neededfor the Sunday Mass. For Benediction and other ministrations we relied on the Missioner's travelling outfit, till ultimately wecollected all we required, with the help of kind presents, many from the Missioner himself, who at times received gifts in kind to pass on to needy centres.
The numbers at Mass had varied during this year, but the average attendance was fifteen.
1932
The Missioner visited us for week-ends in March, June and October. At the last of these visits it was decided that the time had come to start Mass every Sunday, as the congregation was steadily consolidating. The average was now about seventeen. This is a small rise, but Catholicism was reviving and arising all round, and many who came to the chapel at the beginning now found the means of grace nearer their homes. So this growth, in spite of the fact that these ceased to come to us, was very encouraging. So on October 30th, the Feast of Christ the King, Mass was started every Sunday, and has continued ever since.
The expense of the supply every Sunday made some financial adjustment necessary. Hitherto the collections at Mass - other than the Masses celebrated by the Travelling Missioner - had been handed over to the parish priest at Rye, Father Bonaventure, O.F.M.C. But now he agreed that the collections should be retained by us to help meet this expense, though he asked of us a considerable quarterly subscription instead.
After this subscription had been paid once, Father Bonaventure went away on sick leave, and during his absence his substitute came to see us and discuss the matter. He stated that he had found the
finances of the parish in a satisfactory condition, and that he did not wish to take any subscription from us, as he considered that we were providing Catholic ministrations for some, at least, of his parishioners. This was quite true, as perhaps one third of our congregation were geographically such. He considered, further, that by doing this we had adequately fulfilled our duty to the parish church. So the subscription was dropped while he was in charge.When Father Bonaventure returned we decided not to resume it unless we were asked for it, which happily we were not.
We also discussed the possibility of his using the chapel as a parish outpost himself, as we had always hoped it might be made use of in this way. But for one reason or another, neither he nor Father Bonaventure did so.
1933
The Missioner visited us this year in January, March, June, October, and at the last weekend of December.
Dr. Winham's visits had by now become local events. His apostolic zeal and physical energy, both apparently inexhaustible, led to continual increases in numbers, and the discovery of many lost Catholics. He scoured the district — at speed — during the whole weekend.
Even so he found that he could not "get round" in the time. So at the June visit he started the weekend a day earlier, if "weekend" it could still be called. He now arrived on the Wednesday evening and stayed till after Mass on the Monday. This method he followed till his last visit in 1934.
In January Dr. Mouren, Rector of Ore Place was appointed Provincial of the Dutch Province of his Order, and was only able to come once or twice after that, and his place was taken by Father Houtman of the Order. Both these Fathers were much beloved by the congregation, and Catholicism here owes much to them: not only for the means of grace they brought, but also for their great kindness to many individuals, and their understanding of the difficulties many of them laboured under.
Many of our people had to come great distances, after doing perhaps two hours work in the home, or with poultry and animals which apparently do not recognise any obligation to abstain from causing servile work on Sunday. In spite of this, many of them came fasting, to our 9.30 Mass, and had to stand about in the cold waiting for Confession, as the confessional was at the sacristy, itself but a draughty cubicle partitioned off from the garage below the chapel. During part of these early years a system by which hot refreshment was available after Mass was in operation in winter. But it was dropped one summer and not resumed.
During 1933, the average attendance at Sunday Mass was twenty-one, and in all four hundred and fifty Holy Communions were given at the little Altar that year. This plainly shows that a large proportion of those present each Sunday did go to Holy Communion, and that the bringing of the means of grace into the midst of this country was really appreciated, and really responded to.
At this time the existence of the chapel was not widely known in the Church at large, so that those who came to it were predominantly genuine local people, most of whom were here before the chapel was opened. Nor were they Irish, as Catholics so often are imagined to be, but bona fide Sussex people who had hitherto been cut off from the Faith by circumstances and distance, rather than their own choice, and who at once rose up to gather round the Altar as soon as it was set up among them.
1934
1934 opened with the last day of one of Father Winham's weekends, when he left us stating that he felt that the visits of the Travelling Mission were no longer an adequate provision for the parish work needed in the district. The Sunday Mass was indeed to be relied on, but sufficient Catholics had been found, and many more heard of, to make systematic pastoral work necessary. It was almost impossible, he considered, to recover those who had long been away from the Church when only able to visit them once a quarter. Often, they were out when he called, and the area he had to cover was so large that he was frequently unable to reach their abode a second time during a visit of four days. He was of opinion, also, that the presence of a permanent priest would have a good effect upon the situation.
Now a very similar state of affairs existed at Tenterden, where Mrs. Barclay was maintaining a chapel in her house, which like ours, was developing all the time. This is ten miles from us, a short ten miles by a swift and easy road from a motoring point of view. So Father Winham wondered whether the two chapels could possibly be run together by a priest with a car.
After consultation with the Bishop, it was decided that Father Winham should himself come for some weeks in the summer and give the plan a trial.
He paid one of the usual week-end visits in April, and at the end of the month came for six weeks to Tenterden. This long visit enabled him to work out all the details of the arrangement by practical experiment, and he reported to the Bishop that the plan was both workable and desirable.
The running of two widely separated chapels, and the ministering to a huge area covering part of two counties is, of course, very heavy work for the priest in charge. It involves saying Mass at one church, driving the ten miles to the other, there to start all over again hearing confessions, saying Mass and preaching . . . all with one eye on the clock. For if the people cannot rely on catching their homeward bus many of them cannot come at all. There are all the minor crises to deal with that a cold car can produce when being started for the first time on an icy morning; there is the strain, which some men find considerable, of driving amid the fumes and smell, which even the best cars at times emit, while fasting.
This happens on Sundays and days of obligation. On other days the priest says his Mass at his own church at Tenterden, except on Thursdays, when his one Mass is here at St. Teresa's.
However, the Bishop thought it a possible arrangement, and sent us Father H.P.Currie from Worthing, who served his first Sunday here on July 29th.
Among all the general happiness at this sign of progress and episcopal favour, I had a private cause of rejoicing. I realised that the coming of Father Currie would drag me forth from a position, somewhat invidious, in which I had found myself for nearly four years. It arose thus.
It had been known that I was an Anglican clergyman, and indeed my first appearances in the district had been in a clerical collar. Many of those around did not realise that I was now a Catholic, or did not understand that a clergyman who "becomes a Roman Catholic" thereby unfrocks himself. I exclude of course those Anglo-Catholics who with full knowledge still occasionally address me as "Father". They are not many, but the ordinary people seemed to think that I was still some sort of a cleric who had merely retired from parochial work. Therefore when the chapel was opened, and I was known to do a good deal of work about it — teaching children, sacristy work, occasional visiting and so on — the confusion was in no way clarified. Now, at last, I felt, the mystery of me would be revealed, and I should appear in my true colours as a Catholic layman, for there would be a real priest in continual evidence. To reach the priesthood may be a long and arduous undertaking, but it cannot often be that full laymanhood is so hardly won!
Father Currie at once attacked the work with energy, adapting himself wonderfully quickly to his life as a priest in charge of an infinity of square miles, and learning the twists and turns of the tiny lanes which often lead to the homes of scattered Catholics. Furthermore, he took in hand the project of building his own church at Tenterden, itself no mean undertaking.
His coming at once further consolidated the congregation and after a time led to Catholics coming to live in the district, which has been a great help. Financial affairs also improved steadily, as far as our chapel was concerned, and the weekly money guaranteed —little enough in any case — was always forthcoming.
At this point it is only right that I should record the real debt of gratitude which our congregation and that at Tenterden owe to Father Currie and his mother in this matter. While he has always
pursued a policy of encouraging the people to fulfil the precept requiring them to contribute to the support of their pastor, he has realised their difficulties, and also their generosity according to their means. Our people do their best, and it is a good best, but it is not yet sufficient, and I know that both Father Currie and his mother do often "make up the difference" out of their private resources. He provides his own car, though the parish helps with the running expenses, while in any case the upkeep of a presbytery would be impossible without their aid.
1935
By the spring of 1935 the results of Father Currie's diligence had begun to show. Hitherto there had always been a considerable slump in numbers between the Epiphany and Easter. Conditions in this clay-ridden country, illness of people and animals, the cold and inconvenience of the loft-chapel, and the long distances to be journeyed all contributed to this, and we had come to suppose it inevitable. But this year there was no such decline. In spite of the absence of my wife and myself in America from January till April, which made anyway two less, the numbers at Mass were a trifle more during the whole of this period than those of the previous summer. Father Currie's first Easter Day produced the climax, with forty people struggling for the twenty-five practicable seats and the five impracticable ones in the Chapel. The odd ten who were perforce left over had to manage in a minus quantity of space, or stand on the stairs, with little or no view of the Altar.
We had had such numbers once or twice before, when Father Winham had collected large families whole in his car, usually for Benediction. But then probably a third of the congregation had been of an age to sit on the laps of others. Now, however, a gathering of this size, with normal proportions of the adult, the aged and the obese, presented a new problem. For it was essential that all who came should be accommodated, and not turned away, or discouraged from coming to the only Mass within nine miles.
Added to this the floor of this ex-hayloft was none too good. We had had it examined by an architect in the past, when it was pronounced adequate, but on one Sunday about this time several holes were found in the old planks, and a form on which a lady sat went right through them with a considerable report during Mass. So the architect was again called in, and he declared that some insect related to the death-watch beetle was at work, and must be dealt with at once. He prescribed an appalling and pungent fluid to be got at Heppel's, the London chemists, and applied at once both above and below. This was done immediately to the great suffering of those doing it, and the floor certainly seemed less "rocky" after it. Anyway it was thought to be safe for the time being.
We considered all this, and realised that the reflooring of the chapel might well be very expensive, for the whole building was a badly built mid-Victorian structure, previously neglected, and none could tell what more would have to be done once its bones were laid bare: and that would not make the chapel any larger. Indeed there was no way of enlarging it.
So we decided that we must explore the possibility of building a permanent church now, probably many years sooner than we had ever imagined it would be needed.
Father Winham, was consulted, as he had experience of the building of several small churches, and efforts were made to secure one or two large gifts that were on offer for the purpose. These we failed to collect, so my wife and I came to the conclusion that we must take a larger part in it than we had contemplated.
We had the site, which we had bought in 1930. But its very suitability on a main road, on high land visible for miles around only made it the more essential that something should be built which would not spoil the landscape, or make it possible for the church's detractors again to accuse Holy Church of erecting architectural horrors. Such accusations have been heard in the past, as we all know, and in some cases the accusers have every justification.
So we again consulted the architect, Mr. Callow of Hastings, whose work we knew, and he produced a plan. This was eminently suitable, for the building was of dark Sussex tiles and deep red bricks, and large enough for our needs for some years. This little church, to hold about sixty people in comfort, we felt we could undertake.So we made an offer to the Bishop to build it for him, with what financial help we could get. The church, with sufficient land for a possible future presbytery, hall or churchyard would of course be made over to the Diocese.
This offer was accepted, and on the last Sunday in June the project was announced to the congregation. We felt very temerous, [This is a little used word meaning “foolhardy”, not as I thought at first, a misprint for “timorous” Ed], and that we might well be laying ourselves open to accusations of imprudence, or even vanity. I remember my wife saying before Mass, "Now we have started on this there will very likely be only a dozen people at Mass, and we shall look silly."But we felt that the Little Flower would continue her patronage, and that we would take no notice of such things. We need not have worried. There were no less than thirty-three people at Mass. So we felt that St. Teresa had indeed accepted the offer, and was making it clear that she had the congregation waiting to fill her new church. This was really the only interpretation possible, and it was notable that never once, summer, or winter, wet or fine, did the congregation fall below our seating capacity till the new church was almost read y. The announcement was very well received. We had feared that many who were attached to the little upper room, with its great appeal, would be distressed. But they all expressed pleasure, and some relief that we should not have to worship there during another winter, and endure the terrible cold and damp, or wait in the wind and rain for our confessions at the sacristy beneath. They offered most generous help too, both in money and in specific gifts, such as a font. None of them are wealthy, yet there was a steady stream of small gifts during the whole time the church was being built. These, with others from friends all over the world, made up enough to meet most of the cost of moving and adapting our existing fittings, and of the "extras".
Our very special friends are the Sisters of the community of St. Joseph, at their huge college — almost a university — at Saint Paul, Minnesota U.S.A. Their wonderful Reverend Mother, Mother Antonia, and their no less wonderful Dean, Sister Sainte Ilene, and many of the sisters have been our personal friends for many years. They have been to England and we have stayed with them in America. While we were there they took our chapel under their wing, for they said that they who had the happiness of living in a country where the Church is rich and strong should serve the "old country" by helping to restore the Faith to her. They have helped us since with generous gifts, and with the prayers of their community. Those prayers, one cannot doubt, are most efficacious, for these good nuns have made their great college a spiritual power—house.
It is an entirely secular college, for what we should call secondary education, they told me, composed of girls drawn from all sorts of homes all over the "Middle West". That I easily understood, but the nuns did not prepare me for the next morning, when it was arranged that I should serve the chaplain's Mass.
At seven o'clock I found their huge chapel crowded, though attendance was not obligatory, and when the time came for me to hold the plate while the priest gave Holy Communion I felt my arm become quite rigid with cramp, so long did it take. Afterwards he told me that he gave Holy Communion to between three and four hundred girls every morning. Surely a new church cannot have better friends.
But I am telling the story of St. Teresa's, Horns Cross, not that of Mother Antonia and the great college she founded.
The preliminaries were soon completed, and on August 6th my wife cut the first sod, and the work of building was begun.
As time went on it became possible to fix the opening for Sunday December 8th, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. This was a very suitable date, as it was possible to have a festal Mass on this Sunday, though during Advent, and it called Our Blessed Lady to our aid once more. For the Mass of the Imaculate Conception had been one of those celebrated by Father Dudley during his first visit in 1930, five years previously.
The Bishop was then asked if he could come to the opening, but this was impossible as he was to sing High Mass in his Cathedral that day.
But he said he did want to visit us. So on the last Sunday in October, the Feast of Christ the King, he came and made an informal visitation. He celebrated the ordinary Mass, and spoke to the assembly — he said it was not a sermon — and afterwards gave Confirmation to some eight or nine people.
It was a tremendous day in the history of the chapel and of the district, for this again was another event which probably has not happened since the Reformation. That day forty-five people came to pay their respects to their Bishop. This crowd, and all the servers necessary for the ceremony of Confirmation, and the priest assistant, made the congestion really appalling, His Lordship bore it all with great fortitude, and he can have had no doubt at the end that a new church was really wanted. Later he inspected the building in process of erection and gave the venture his blessing.
This work was going on very smoothly. The workmen were a remarkable little company, who took immense interest in it all, and gave of their best, as did their employer, Mr. Perigoe of Northiam. The architect, Mr. Callow of Hastings must have the credit due to him also, for his design has considerable beauty and dignity, and suitability to its surroundings. He did, in fact, produce a church which is much superior to anything that we had thought possible at the cost. He supervised the work continually, and the workmen liked working under him.
Frequently, they offered suggestions which he used, and would come forth with "We were thinking, how would it be if . . . " — some proposal which was not only practical, but very often also artistically effective. One of the men was a member of the congregation.
Meanwhile the establishing of the church on a proper basis went on. A large area was delineated to be its "district" by the Bishop, taken from the distant Catholic parishes of Rye, Battle and St.Leonards, so that the new church has the villages of Northiam, Brede and Beckley in particular and many small hamlets to support it. At the same time the civil authorities granted their certificate for it as a "Place of Religious Worship", and promised to licence it for marriages as soon as was legally possible.
At last the great day of the opening arrived . . . the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, only a week after Father Currie had opened the church of St. Andrew at Tenterden which he had built. For this ceremony the clergy and students of the African Missions College at Hastings provided the choir and everything necessary for Solemn High Mass. Father Houtman, who had so often ministered in the old chapel was the celebrant, and small though the sanctuary is, the ceremonies were beautifully rendered. The choir sang the plainchant Mass "Cu' Jubilo superbly. Father Winham, who had done so much to build up the Church preached the Sermon. The sisters of the Little Flower at Lisieux joined with us in spirit, and sent little prayer cards which were given to all those present.
As usual, a large crowd had assembled, far larger than we were prepared for, or had built for. We furnished the church with forty-eight seats to start with, not expecting to use the additional space for some time. But hearing that many might be coming we hastily hired two dozen more chairs from the local inn. That made seventy-two seats in the church supposed to be built for sixty, but still they came. Finally it was discovered that the little building contained a hundred and ten souls all told - with their bodies unfortunately!
Many of these were of course visitors. But since then more Catholics have appeared as permanent members of the congregation , some of them people living quite near, of whose existence we were
entirely ignorant. Indeed, when Father Currie started to make a list of those who wanted to take permanent seats, - he expected about fifteen - he found he had over thirty names, and the promise of quite an appreciable additional revenue.
And so it goes on, this little work, and it is right that we should record our gratitude to Our Lady and the Little Flower who have so signally obtained God's blessing for it and for ourselves. Moreover they did not wait to begin till we were actually within the Church.
In Anglo-Catholicism we had learnt something of the place they occupy in the Christian religion, enough at any rate to make both of us wish to give them their due. Therefore for perhaps a year or two before our reception, both my wife and I had cultivated the habit of reciting a high-Anglican translation of the Breviary Little Office of Our Lady, and in the final moment of indecision we kept a novena to the Little Flower. Their answer was immediate, for we were swiftly and almost painlessly brought into the Church. That in itself would be enough, but it was not all they had in store for us. For in these five short years they have built up this little Catholic centre, allowing us, even compelling us, to get it done: they have showered blessings on the congregation: they have given our priest the distinction of opening two new churches in one week; and they have allowed us all the honour of setting up a permanent home for our common Lord Jesus Christ.
It is also a great happiness to us to have been allowed to set up a place where Our Lord's Mother may again be honoured in this parish, for though the old parish church at Northiam is still dedicated to "St. Mary the Virgin", her name is seldom heard there, and never revered.
SOME IMPRESSIONS
The five years covered by the foregoing story have been for us a very remarkable time. Both my wife and I are very conscious of the privilege that has been ours in being allowed to help in all this immediately we entered the Church from the wilderness without. Even the Chosen People of old, we recalled, were denied the joy of setting up the Temple as soon as they reached the Promised Land. So the events of these years could not but create most vivid impressions in our minds, some of which may be worth recording.
The most important, I think, concerns the rural areas of England, such of them as remain. These regions may very likely be of great importance to the Church in the next few decades, for there is a general move to the country going on, and that among the classes which contain most Catholics. Country districts also may easily yield up to the Church many of her lost children who are already there as ours is doing. All but one or two of our congregation were Catholics before the chapel had anything to do with them, yet even the Bishop himself thought there were none around. Indeed we ourselves knew of only one in the immediate neighbourhood when we set up the chapel.
Before the Church came to them, these people were getting to the sacraments but rarely, or were living quite out of touch with the Church. Catholics are, to my mind wonderfully good at keeping up with the Church, but people have to go where they can get a living in these hard times, and often, or even usually, cannot choose where they will reside.
I feel therefore that many other rural districts, if properly combed, would produce a number of Catholics. Some of these would hasten back to the Altar: some would come slowly; while there would probably be some to declare themselves Catholics who had lived most of their lives where they were without anyone ever discovering it.
Country people are valuable to the Church, and are also very tenacious. I feel sure, therefore, that once the real country-loving, country-living population takes again to the Church it will not easily release it. It was in the country, after all, that the persecutors usually found their prey during the penal times.
Following this, one realised the supreme importance of such an organisation as the Southwark Diocese Travelling Mission and the wisdom and inspiration of the Bishop in starting and maintaining it. That it costs a lot of money is undeniable and others in the diocese may not like that. But perusal of the Missioner's various reports shows that the financial return is swift, and sometimes large. For in the decade or so that this Mission has been working many of its "centres" have developed into permanent churches, able to support themselves and a priest and to contribute to the diocese. One or two, I believe, are already canonical parishes. Our church of St. Teresa is certainly one of the former.
It is hard to see how else the searching of the countryside can be done. None but clergy with no other responsibilities can do it. Only priests with time and transport at their disposal, and wide faculties, can deal with the situations which they inevitably discover, situations which are often very like those to be found in the real missionary regions of the Church. No other priest could be free to travel about with the whole outfit of a church in the back of his car, to set up an Altar wherever he could secure the use of a room or a barn. If the place does not produce Catholics, or too few, such a priest is free to withdraw and try another district. But he will not know what a lone region will divulge till he has brought Our Lord and His Altar there. "If I be lifted up from the earth I will draw all things to myself" Our Lord indeed said, but it is at the Catholic Altar that the lifting up is done, and it is not till there is an Altar that there is anything to be hoped for.
Another opinion I formed from our experience in this corner of Sussex is that country districts are usually entities on their own, and cannot be run from towns. A belt of country round a large town six or ten miles away, supposed to be part of the parish of a church in that town, is usually a belt of country and all the souls in it, lost to the church. The clergy have their hands full with the town itself, and the church. They have not the transport necessary to cover the country, nor the time, even if they have the aptitude. While on the other hand the distance often prevents their country parishioners from ever getting to church. Though there are buses almost everywhere, journeys still take time. To go to Mass by bus is often an affair of half a day – and half a week's wages, more or less. For instance, one bus from here to Hastings charges half-a-crown for a return ticket, so that a family of six, even with some of the children at half–price, might cost something over ten shillings to take to Mass. An impossible sum. But often the buses do not go at suitable hours, or the distance to be walked to the bus make the expedition impossible.
Now we have the church with us here with its Mass hours suited to the local buses, most of our people are within a threepenny fare, or even walking distance. Some also can be partly transported by some Catholic neighbour who has a car. Indeed we have had to make quite a spacious car–park at the new church to take the number of cars that come each Sunday, decoyed there, one might say, by the priest's car, which is indirectly responsible for the means of grace coming among us in this mechanised age. Another impression which grew upon us was that of the absolute rightness of the Church's attitude towards mixed marriages. As Anglicans we were naturally out of sympathy with the Church's methods, and thought them harsh, though we were in sympathy with the principle. But since being here we have come to realise that there is no other possible point of view. We have known of too many Catholics who have been lost, and their children lost also, through this; we have alas also known some who have got themselves outside the Church in such a way that there seems no human hope of their ever being able to return. Ungallant as it may seem, I fear the women are worse at it than the men, for our records show that the three receptions which took place in the old chapel were all of women married to, or about to marry, Catholic men.
We were impressed also with the wisdom and truly apostolic nature of the Church's methods. Always the Bishop and the Diocese have stood behind this venture, never forcing things, but never discouraging. We came to the Bishop, after all, as two unknown people, converts, with all the faults of such, and no doubt ripe to make many mistakes. But under his guidance all went well. He never let us stampede him in our new enthusiasm, but just as surely he never let the return of Catholicism to these parts lack the spiritual things it needed. Step by step, each new development was sanctioned, neither too soon nor too late, but just when the time was right.
We were also impressed by the question of finance, but not, I hope, oppressed. The finances of St. Teresa's have not been a cruel anxiety, but they will always be a continuing preoccupation until the church is in such a position that the fear of Catholicism, being again withdrawn, for financial reasons, is removed. That fear must ever be present in some sense when a church has but a small weekly income, and the burden is borne by chiefly one or two mortal human beings. To forestall this we have opened an endowment fund, which will be always open, with a money box in the church. Thus small sums will be accumulated, and put on deposit in the bank, finally to be invested, or used for endowing Masses. Such sums will no doubt be small, but they will be something, and may in the future be of great use, while we of today will be called prudent!
One sometimes wonders, moreover, whether it would not be possible for the richer churches, or colleges, of the Diocese to adopt one of the small struggling churches in the Diocese, rather in the way that prosperous southern towns have adopted and taken under their wing the devastated industrial towns of the north. They might hand on Mass fees, which would be a godsend and a very great encouragement, to struggling clergy and congregations.
But be that as it may, it must be some reward at least to our Bishop to look round the map, and see the Catholic churches plotted out over three counties, and to try to count how many of them have sprung up under his own guiding hand.
This brings me to the last "impression".
No reasonable being could fail to be astonished at the truly amazing growth of the Church all over this borderland of Sussex and Kent during these five years.
When we first came to Sussex in 1929 the only Catholic centre that was any use to us was St. Anthony's Church at Rye, nine miles away. But at every point of the compass there has been development. To the south of us a new church has been built on the outskirts of St. Leonards, in a suburb called Hollington, while I hear that yet another church is planned for Bulverhythe, another suburb. To the south east, the little chapel which was in Mrs. Lucas-Shadwell's house at Pett has been superseded by a church, which gathers as many as eighty people for Mass in the summer, and has already had to be enlarged. To the east Rye church has increased, while the Travelling Mission is opening up "centres" north-east of us in Kent. To the north, the chapel in Mrs. Barclay's house at Tenterden has given way to Father Currie's new church to hold a hundred and fifty people. The parish of Goudhurst to the north west has had many developments under Father Dudley, once our missioner. The parish has revived after being moribund; Mrs. Scrymsour-Nichol's chapel at Beneden where we first met him has become a permanent church; a huge convent has been opened at Staplehurst in the parish, with a public chapel and a chaplain, while at Cranbrook in the same immense parish Lady Moore has opened a chapel in her house, which has met with a very encouraging response.
To the west of us there remains Battle parish. This parish has been considerably enlivened and revived by Father Loman in the five years we have been here, and the number of masses increased. In the same parish too the chapel at Ashburnham Place, started many years ago by the late Lord Ashburnham, and now maintained by Lady Catharine Ashburnham has begun to increase its congregation.
They are all new, or renewed, these developments, all needed, and all responded to.
Most of them started from small beginnings, many of them in private houses. I have mentioned the names of the ladies who have taken so great a part on this recent work, and are still doing so, for among them is my wife, without whom none of the work here would have been done, and without whom St. Teresa's church would not have been built for perhaps many years. Not only has she laboured here, teaching and instructing, producing her resources, visiting the sick or assisting the afflicted, but she has brought her writer's vision to bear, and called us all to the true perspective. She brought back to our minds the beginnings of the Catholic Church itself, when she wrote in an article which she called "The Church in the Fields":
"The Christian Faith did not begin in churches and meeting halls. It began in private houses. Mass was first said in Christian homes. We are rather like that here. We meet 'at the house of’ so and so, even as long, long ago the Christians met at the house of Clement, at the house of Pudentiana.
"'Salute them that are of Jack Sinden's household . . . Salute Daisy and William Barnes and the church which is in their house . . . they who are of little Hornreed salute you . . . ‘"