The following analysis is based on twelve years’ research into the county of Sussex from c.1635 to c.1665, looking at ways to measure the degree of change or impact experienced by the inhabitants as a result of the Civil Wars, interregnum and restoration of the monarchy. There is, as yet, no single source for information of this nature; in order to facilitate the analysis a database was compiled from many sources – for example, the Protestation Returns, the Return of Contributions to the Relief of Irish Protestants, Calamy’s Nonconformist’s Memorial, Walker’s Sufferings of the Clergy, and Matthew’s Calamy Revised and Walker Revised, as well as parish and county histories, Sussex Clergy Inventories and the Clergy of the Church of England Database (CCED).¹ The only previous substantial studies of the county for this period are Charles Thomas-Stanford, Sussex in the Great Civil War 1642–1660 (1910) and, more recently, Anthony Fletcher’s A County Community in Peace and War.² Other work has been done for the county as part of more general work, for example Timothy McCann’s chapter on religious observance in An Historical Atlas of Sussex.³

Looking outside Sussex, work has previous been done by, in particular, Fiona McCall and Rosemary O’Day, as well as by Clive Holmes, John Morrill and others, but the subject of the clergy who served during this period of disruption is only now emerging as a topic requiring serious, in-depth study.⁴ Where previous work has been done, the analysis of figures seems to indicate that there was almost certainly a wide difference in experience between local areas, but whether this is due to factors influenced by geographical location, differences in prevailing local ideology, or simply variations in the available data is something that will require a much wider study than is possible here.

Part of my project set out to identify as many clergy who served Sussex between 1635 and 1665 as possible (so as to include those in post at the outbreak of the Civil Wars and those in post after the dust had settled post Restoration). Names were located from a wide miscellany of sources as they came to light.⁵ Some 724 individual clergy were identified but this cannot be assumed to be exhaustive. New names come to light from time to time, but these almost certainly represent a tiny fraction of those who served the county at the relevant time and are unlikely to skew the conclusions arising from the research.

Methodological issues

There are some issues with the sources. The writings of Walker, Calamy and Matthews are often contradictory.⁶ For example, Walker provided what appears to be a vivid account of John Edsaw of Chailey:

This gives an example of the ‘sufferings’ of one clergyman. However, it states that he lived to see the Restoration, whereas other sources indicate that he had died by 1647. The strongest evidence must be his PCC (Prerogative Court of Canterbury) will, made and proved in 1647.⁸ John Abbot served the parish of Hollington for many years and is relatively easy to trace in the records. However, the name John Abbot recurs in the parishes of New Fishbourne, South Stoke, New Shoreham and Midhurst but he is not listed in any of these parishes on CCED and the references are taken from Calamy.⁹ If John Abbot of Hollington died in 1644/5, the remaining entries must be a different man and it seems likely that they relate to one individual who ended up at South Stoke after the Restoration, having been ejected from New Fishbourne. Walker gave William Cox DD, prebendary, as being sequestered in 1643 and dying in 1647, having joined the royal court at Oxford. However, there is evidence that Cox was the same William Cox who was at Felpham in 1640 and Bolney 1641–62. It is likely that this latter date is purely indicative of the next appointment to this parish and does not preclude Cox having died in 1647, but emphasizes the need for caution. The likelihood of confusion is increased by the probate of the will of William Cox DD of Petworth in 1657, raising the likelihood that there were several of this name.¹⁰

Some clergy had been Sussex incumbents for decades before 1641, others who were reinstated or conformed after the Restoration continued for decades after 1660; many more came and went within months as the local situation changed during the 1640s and 1650s. A note from the Ardingly parish registers is just as relevant to the majority of parishes: ‘These yeares that is to [say] 1643, 1644 and 1645 are imperfect in this register by reason of the change in ministers.’¹¹ In many Sussex parishes the registers are defective or missing altogether for the period 1642–60, and the bishops’ transcripts were also not kept (the post of bishop having been abolished).

Puritanism

Puritan influence in the county had been strong long before 1641. The major towns of Rye and Lewes were important areas of puritanism. Mayhew stated that ‘the growth of Protestantism in Rye owed much to the geographical situation of Rye and its function as a port, in particular to the impact of new Protestant ideas coming in from outside, which found an echo in an earlier nonconformity, for which the town’s northern hinterland was well-known’.¹² Godfrey wrote that ‘there are many records of the troubles of the Nonconformists … Lewes became a centre for the conference of many of the ejected ministers of the County, and the more prosperous tradesmen of the town seem to have been their supporters’.¹³ Adamson commented on how ‘liberating, gentry-empowering puritanism confronted authoritarian, clericalist Laudianism’ and how ‘even zealous Puritanism [could be] regarded as scarcely more than a means of social control’.¹⁴ However, Underdown stated that ‘the Sussex Clubmen voiced the same religious orthodoxy as their western counterparts [complaining that] “Mechanics and unknown persons” had replaced orthodox clergy at the whim of a single committee-man’.¹⁵

There is a useful survey of conformity by Timothy McCann in the Historic Atlas of Sussex.¹⁶ He shows that, while the greater part of the county was conformist, there were significant levels of non-conformity in a number of parishes, while there were concentrations of recusants at West Firle, Racton, Clapham, West Tarring and Burton as well as the major community at Midhurst/Easebourne.¹⁷ There was also a significant Catholic community in Chichester which produced its own martyr, Thomas Bullaker, hanged, drawn and quartered at Tyburn as late as 1640.¹⁸

Clergy origins

Using the data extracted for this chapter it is possible to conclude that the clergy serving the county across this period were drawn from a diverse cross-section of backgrounds but, where the relevant details have been recorded, the greatest number identifiable were Sussex-born (see Figure 5.1).¹⁹

Birthplaces were identified for 388 of the 724 clergy studied. These show that nearly a fifth of the clergy studied were known to be born in the county, representing around two-fifths of those whose origins are known, while a similar number were drawn from adjacent counties and London and the ‘Home Counties’. A considerable number (similar to those from the nearer area) came from much further afield, including Scotland, Ireland, the Channel Islands and overseas.

There is evidence from the wills examined of various clerical ‘dynasties’ in the county, as well as inter-marriage between clerical families and strong friendships between the clergy of neighbouring parishes. One such ‘dynasty’ is the Frewen family, commencing with John Frewen of Northiam, father of Accepted Frewen, Thankful Frewen and John Frewen, and grandfather of Thomas Frewen.²⁰ There are also instances of recurring surnames where the rarity of the name indicates a connection. The Independent brothers Isaac, Andrew and Samuel Wilmer are almost certainly connected with another Independent, Thomas Wilmer.²¹

The King family are another notable ‘dynasty’. Henry King, bishop of Chichester 1642–69 was chaplain to James VI & I and Charles I. Walker stated him to have been ‘puritanically affected and was promoted to [the bishopric of Chichester] to please that party, yet when the rebellion broke out he was most barbarously treated by them’. He made his will in 1653 but did not die until 1669.²² It is strange he did not revise the will after 1660 as the document is full of his despair at the change in fortune following the wars. He stated that he was ‘bred up in the reformed Protestant Church of England … I professe myself to dye a sincere member of the English Church.’²³ His father was a former bishop of London, his grandfather’s uncle was bishop of Oxford. Despite the change in his fortunes he still had a large estate to leave. He mentioned his books: ‘a small remainder of a large library taken from me at Chichester contrary to the condicion and contract of the Generall and Counsell of Warre at the taking of that Citie’; various pieces of plate given to him by Queen Anne; debts running into thousands of pounds owed him. He left various modest legacies totalling about £150 as well as £100 to the poor of Wornholt, Buckinghamshire, his birthplace. The money was to be used to purchase land to provide a dole of bread. There is no surviving inventory for his estate so it is not possible to know whether his estate recovered after the Restoration but he was obviously more ‘comfortably off’ than many of his clergy.

There are numerous other examples – the Blaxtons and Goffes are easy to identify and there are almost certainly further generations earlier or later. Daughters of clergy seem to have regularly married incumbents of neighbouring parishes or their fathers’ curates, possibly signalling the difficulty of finding suitable matches in rural areas when their fathers were unable to provide large portions for them. Such arrangements were equally attractive to the husbands – a clergy daughter would not expect lavish entertainment and would know the duties expected of her as a clergyman’s wife.

Next in importance to Bishop King must be Bruno Ryves or Reeves. Although not a native of Sussex (he came from Dorset) and most of his appointments were outside the county, his experience of this period is partly concerned with Sussex. He was deprived of St Martin in the Fields in January 1642 and later sequestered of Stanwell, Middlesex. Charles I appointed him to the deanery of Chichester and he was appointed Master of Chichester Hospital.²⁴ A Mr Rook of Bradninch in Devon later described to Walker what is said to have happened:

Education

In the same way it is possible to examine the standard of education of the greater part of the clergy who served in this period, with details available for 553 of the 724 studied. This breaks down as shown in Figure 5.2.

There is evidence of a widespread lack of education among the county clergy at an earlier date. An early seventeenth-century document in the collection of manuscripts at Hatfield House refers to conventicles involving Samuel Norden, parson of Hamsey, John Pearson ‘a lay minister’, Healy, Goldsmith, Frewen (presumably John Frewen of Northiam), Goffe (presumably Stephen Goffe of Stanmer), Ebury (all ministers) and others.²⁶ The unsigned document concludes:

Various commentators on the ‘sufferings’ of the ejected royalist clergy indicate that lack of education was claimed. Richard Halsey of East Dean was turned out of his living ‘upon a pretence of insufficiency’ and was prohibited ‘even from keeping an English school’ at a penny a week, even though this meant that his nine children would starve.²⁷ Walker’s opinion is that the ‘insufficiency’ was not so serious but that Halsey was not learned enough for the ministers who decided his fate. He was later restored to his living after the Restoration and Walker describes him as ‘a very honest and industrious man’.

There is at least one instance of a sequestered living being taken up by someone with no apparent academic attainment. A letter in the Bodleian Library John Walker Archive states that, in 1642, the living of Steyning was procured by Benbrick, an Anabaptist, for Robert Childes, a coachman.²⁸ Childes held the living until the Restoration when ‘being conscious of his having no right or title but by usurpation, [he] thought fit to withdraw’. He presumably had strong local support to have held the living for almost twenty years.²⁹

Although the most common qualification in this study was MA Cantab, overall more clergy attended Oxford (250 against 226 Cambridge). A total of 298 were qualified to master’s level – a little under half of the entire study with fifty-eight holding a DD and 120 only a BA or BD. Forty-nine are recorded as holding a degree but are not recorded in Alumni Oxon or Cantab.³⁰ A few of these are noted as having attended Leiden, Dublin or other named institutions but they are too few to separate out. A proportion of those where no qualifications are known may also have studied overseas but, in turn, these are balanced out by those who achieved only matriculation at Oxford or Cambridge. Overall, the picture is that the county clergy were relatively well educated and that the traditional ‘legend’ of parishes being seized by uneducated, itinerant, fanatical preachers is not borne out. Only one story of such an incursion was found during the course of the study, with the suspicion that local men may have served as preachers in one or two further instances (see previous paragraph).

Yet there were variations in Sussex clergy’s levels of education. Some were perhaps little more literate than their parishioners; others achieved academic recognition before appointment or during periods of exile from their parish duties. George Edgeley attained DD at Oxford in 1643, was prebendary of Heathfield and rector of Nuthurst.³¹ Walker conjectures his sequestration from Nuthurst and states ‘He … hath expressed his Loyalty, by his active services, and passive sufferings in these times of hostility, for the defence of his Majesty’s person, religion and laws.’ Edgeley appears to have been succeeded as prebendary by William Oughtred, likely to be the mathematician of that name, a son of Benjamin Oughtred, registrar of Eton College.³² William is stated to have attained an MA at Cambridge but is also shown as BD in Walker. In 1605 he was appointed to Shalford in Surrey but seems to have been known more for his mathematical work. According to Walker he expired from an ‘excess of joy’ in 1660 upon hearing that parliament had voted to restore the monarchy.

The earliest clergy studied died in 1635; the latest lived well into the eighteenth century. Obviously some of the men who died in the 1630s would have been of great age while others had been ordained for just a year or two. The same applies later but those at the end of the period will have been incumbents from at least 1662. It is difficult to generalize, as they were from all shades of the confessional spectrum, but it is fair to say that those who evidenced the highest degree of education were mostly those who were ordained closest to the beginning of the period, while those who had been ordained prior to the 1630s were generally less well educated. Those ordained after the Restoration seem to be more uniformly products of the universities, but were (perhaps) of a slightly lower social status.³³ While there is no such thing as the ‘average’ person, most Sussex clergy of the period were MA Oxbridge and, as shall be shown in the next section, held an estate of between £100 and £500 including a substantial number of books and some form of real property. Around 7.5 per cent could be counted as extremely wealthy by the standards of the time, having estates valued in excess of £500 in addition to real property and valuable goods.

Wealth and wills

As noted, there are a large number of wills for Sussex clergy. The figures presented contain brief details of the wills and inventories (see Figure 5.3). In all, 268 wills and grants of administration (admons) were found in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury (PCC), Chichester and Lewes (including Battle and South Malling) courts. There were another six wills found in courts further afield and there may be others to be found, particularly in Kent, Hampshire and Surrey. There may be a few omitted from Lewes as the indexing of these is not sufficient to enable easy finding of clergy, although nominal searches were made where it seemed likely a will should be found. Grants of administration were not examined as the information obtainable was unlikely to have added to the study. In all 199 clergy wills were examined and details extracted. In addition, there are ninety-two surviving clergy inventories which were also examined.³⁴ A proportion of these are additional to wills but a number are the only surviving record of an estate.

The following figures show the ascertainable financial values (Figure 5.4) and numbers of clergy leaving books, plate and land (Figure 5.5)

From Figure 5.4 it appears that the greater number of clergy (103) were able to leave cash sums of £100–£500, but a comparable number (107) left only £5–£100 and thirty-two less than £5. A further fifty-five were able to leave sums greater than £500, often well into four figures.

Most bequests of plate amounted to a modest number of named pieces and larger bequests were mostly confined to clergy who went on to hold high office. A small number directed that specific sums of money should be expended to purchase items of plate in the same way that many left money for the purchase of mourning rings. Real property was mentioned in 166 of the 199 wills examined, indicating a high level of property ownership.³⁵ Many refer to recent purchases of property, presumably made in order to provide security for their families, who might otherwise find themselves homeless if reliant on parish accommodation.

Where they are mentioned, details of gifts to the poor and references to ‘libraries’ or books are noted.³⁶ Unsurprisingly, given the level of education, nearly half the estates examined mentioned books in the will or inventory. Some appear to own only a handful, others refer to their ‘libraries’ or ‘studies’ of books and a handful left detailed catalogues. A greater number specifically directed that their books should be used to found a library or school or to replace libraries looted during the wars. While an omission of references to books cannot be taken as proof that they either owned none or were not interested in them, where specific books are referred to many of these would have been of considerable value. Many refer to books in Hebrew, Latin and Greek, indicating that they had sufficient acquaintance with those languages to be able to read the books in the original. Many list farming and/or brewing equipment, indicating that some were able to partly support themselves by growing food and brewing ale. Others mention monies placed out in the form of loans.

Some wills cast light on the personal beliefs of the testators. Joseph Henshaw of East Lavant, Stedham and Heyshott and later bishop of Peterborough used his will to express his thoughts ‘after so great a persecution and usurpation both in Church and State as was not many years since in this land under which wicked times many holy and excellent persons did resist with blood and I have been as a brand snatched out of the fire…).³⁷ William Cox[e]‌ DD of Petworth, in his will proved in 1657, requests to be interred in ‘some place of Christian burial without any other ceremony since the use of the Book of Common Prayer and other rites of the Church of England (whereof I die a member) are interdicted’.³⁸ John Scull of Slinfold left the large sum of £80 to the poor of various parishes and further gifts in excess of £350, clothing (including clerical gowns) and books. He also left £100 for the re-edifying of the cathedral ‘provided that my Executrix first see whether the parliament will dissolve Deans and Chapters’, in which case the gift would be withdrawn.³⁹ This reference to dissolution is interesting as the will was proved in 1641, when the upheavals of the war were only just beginning and parliament was not in uncontested control of either Church or state. Christopher Elderfield, minister of Burton, appears to have been considerably wealthier than average, mentioning plate, gowns, rings, bibles, books (including law books) and gifts amounting to over £400.⁴⁰ In his will proved in 1653 he leaves £36 to ‘be bestowed upon godly poor ministers cast down by these times’. Some of his books are left to the ‘publique library of Oxford’. In 1650, Elderfield had published The Civil Right of Tythes; ‘the great pains he took with his second book, Of Regeneration and Baptism, Hebrew and Christian’, published posthumously in 1653, ‘are believed to have cost him his life’.⁴¹ This is one of the longer clergy wills, running to five full pages, whereas most are little over one full page.

Henry Kent, ‘Minister of God’s word’, Selsey, states ‘I do believe the Bible to be the word of God, and the doctrine of the Church of England concerning matters of salvation to be grounded upon the holy scriptures and that by faith salvation is therefore to be had.’ He also requests sermons to be made by Mr Speed or Mr Callowe or some other godly minister.⁴² At the end of the document he leaves a book to his uncle titled The Anatomy of Arminianism, ‘which heresie and a few ceremonies hath brought all this misery of warre upon this kingdome and I am the willinger to leave the world because the people are for bloody cruel and heart hardened’. Interestingly, this is dated as early as 1642, but not proved until 1645. Thomas Jackson, ejected from West Stoke in 1662 for non-conformity (will dated 1669), ‘profess[es] that I die in the true Christian faith as it is held forth by all the Protestant churches, the Church of England particularly in that which the Assembly of Divines held forth in their Confession and Catechism’.⁴³

Looking at so many wills enables a number of observations relating to the Sussex clergy across the period of study. Many are comparable to those of any other contemporary gentlemen, mentioning similar possessions and properties and making similar bequests to the poor and to kin. However, there are also a large number which indicate that the testator possessed only the clothes he stood up in. Some indicate inherited lands, others humble beginnings, such as Oliver Penicod of Graffham, clerk.⁴⁴ He mentions his children and the children of his brothers whom he describes as ‘illiterate’. However, he was MA Oxon. and left legacies approaching £700 and a £10 annuity. His will was proved in 1653.

There are similar disparities with regard to real estate; many of the clergy were obviously landless and presumably relied on their parish for accommodation. Others, such as Christopher Elderfield, minister of Burton (mentioned above), appear to be considerably wealthier than average, mentioning plate, gowns, rings, bibles, books and gifts amounting to hundreds of pounds.⁴⁵ Giles Moore of Horsted Keynes demonstrates the uncertain experiences of clergy in the county:

While only a handful of men came from gentry families in Sussex (Ashburnham, Middleton, Pelham and possibly Morley), it is evident that several others from outside the county were also from wealthy backgrounds as their wills mention large landholdings and considerable amounts of expensive goods, plate and other assets. Table 5.1 shows the number of identifiable wills made by Sussex clergy during the pre-war period, the war years, the interregnum and the year immediately following the Restoration. After 1661, the numbers dropped significantly, the greatest number for any single year being five to six (many years being zero) whereas in 1652, 1657 and 1658 the numbers per year were ten and over.⁴⁷

It would not be safe to assume that the data drawn from the wills can be projected across the clergy for whom no evidence survives. Many will be among the numbers who were ejected from their livings and financially ruined. Many will also have died long before the Restoration and any hope of restitution. We must now look at the levels of disruption experienced in the county.

Ejections and displacement

Changes were already occurring in the nature of the clergy before 1642. By that date a number of puritan clergy had already been appointed, some having been established in their parishes for a number of years by 1641, either due to the inclinations of the patrons of the living or due to particular local conditions (e.g. Rye and its ‘commonwealth’).⁴⁸

Between 1642 and 1646 there was a fairly brief period when a large number of clergy were ejected, sequestered or deprived.⁴⁹ Using information drawn from the database it was possible to compile a table of removals between 1641 and 1662. As shown in Figure 5.6, over forty per cent of parishes appear to have suffered an enforced change of incumbent during or immediately after the first period of disruption (1641–50/1).

Of the 724 clergy studied, fifty-two were appointed during the period 1650–9, thirty-seven were ejected c.1662 and twenty-nine conformed. This table may, however, underestimate the figures affected in the second two columns. The numbers shown in the first column include all those stated to have been sequestered, ejected or driven out. Where someone is stated to have intruded or otherwise supplanted an incumbent, it has been taken to indicate that the previous minister has been ousted. This tells us that the parish has been disrupted. In the first period 131 parishes (out of 325) appear to have suffered at least one change of incumbent other than by ‘natural turnover’. Stated ejections in the second and third period appear to be far fewer but this may be due to lack of clear evidence of ejection as much as a lesser degree of disruption. As the sum of those who were ejected and conformed is higher than those known to have been officially appointed, it would appear that the numbers must include others who had arrived either pre-1650 or without official sanction.

Much displacement took place during the period, not only due to ejection and sequestration but also for the clergy who attached themselves to the armies of both sides. Some of these were chaplains to gentry commanders but others left their parishes to follow their chosen allegiance voluntarily.⁵⁰ It is likely that some clergy who were turned out of their livings after 1642 would have attached themselves to the royalist armies, and a proportion of the ‘new clergy’ who supplanted them may have previously been attached to the parliamentarian armies.⁵¹ For others there is no way of knowing how they came to be in the ‘front line’. Dr William Chillingworth, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, accompanied Hopton’s army and was taken prisoner after the siege of Arundel in December 1643. He was removed to the Bishop’s Palace at Chichester where he died on 30 January 1644. He is commemorated in a memorial in the cathedral.⁵² William Stanley of West Tarring admitted on sequestration that he had gone to the royalist garrison at Arundel in 1643, having been promised a commission as a captain of dragoons, and that he had urged men to enlist and prevent the enemy from crossing the Shoreham ferry. Despite this he was discharged in 1645/6 when the county committee failed to reply to the Committee for Plundered Ministers.⁵³

In a number of parishes the parishioners were happy to supply evidence against the incumbent to secure his ejectment should he not share their particular wishes as to liturgy and ordering of the church, as in the case of Randolph Apsley of Pulborough, whose removal was procured by allegations of (inter alia) drunkenness and was summoned to give an account ‘before some ruling men’.⁵⁴ On the first occasion he was cleared but was later ‘seen in a public alehouse’ and accused of being a scandalous liver and thrown out ‘almost to the ruin of his family’, his children being kept by the charity of his relations. After the Restoration he regained his living but died in 1663. William Hine of Fittleworth was said to have been deprived for having employed a tailor to sew a button on his breeches on the Sabbath.⁵⁵ Others, such as Thomas Allcock of Tillington, were forced to resign ‘partly by threats, partly by promises, afterwards unfulfilled’.⁵⁶

Anthony Hugget, of Cliffe and Glynde, was sequestered of both livings and charged with offences ranging from severity to parishioners for going to other churches to domestic violence and being seen with the royalist army, but his successor thought the charges to be groundless, Hugget having made enemies due to his strictness in his role as Surrogate.⁵⁷ Similar treatment was given to John Large of Rotherfield, despite accusations being rebutted by a petition by almost the whole parish.⁵⁸ Richard Taunton/Teinton of Ardingly was ‘voted out of his late Parsonage by the Hnble Committee of the House of Commons in Parliament August 16, 1643’.⁵⁹ In a note inside the cover of the parish register the clerk wrote: ‘The cause why he was thus Voted is manifest to the world. He the said Richard was ejected Novemb. 29 by a Companie of Dragoniers sent by the command of Captain Symon Querendon de Lewis.’⁶⁰

It would be misleading to suppose that all ejections occurred due to ideological differences. An attempt was made in 1644 to remove Thomas Bainbrigg from Icklesham, which he had held since 1618, for being absent for twenty-five years and employing scandalous curates. His absence was due to his tenure as Master of Christ’s College, Cambridge and he was allowed to retain Icklesham on condition that he appointed a curate acceptable to the committee.⁶¹

In examining the accounts of the ‘sufferings’ of the clergy in Sussex, a picture seems to emerge of a progressive ‘tightening of the screw’. In the beginning a large number of those examined and ejected were those who were obvious targets – that is, those who were overt in their support for the king, the rule of law and order, the Anglican/Laudian Church etc., as well as pluralists and those allegedly guilty of living a less than godly life but, as the years passed, the targets seem to grow less obvious. Rye was already a ‘godly commonwealth’ as early as the previous century, so it was surprising to find that the vicar, Brian Twyne, was himself sequestered in 1644. He had been the incumbent there since 1614 and by 1644 the process of ‘cleansing’ had been underway for some time, more than long enough for the parishioners to have decided on his sufficiency or otherwise. His non-residence at Oxford, and the influence of sectarianism in Rye, which also impacted his successor and was complained about by John Bastwick, probably decided his case.⁶²

Although there is evidence that many clergy were willing to compromise to retain their livings, particularly those appointed during the interregnum, there are also some cases where clergy were finding a greater struggle with their consciences. Richard Carpenter became a Benedictine monk before returning to Anglicanism and being appointed to Poling. After 1642 he reverted to Rome before joining the Independents and preaching at Aylesbury. He later reverted to Rome once again.⁶³

More upheaval occurred in the 1650s when the system of Triers and Ejectors came into being. As there were no longer bishops, there could be no episcopal ordinations, and a process had to be devised by which parish clergy could be approved or ejected.⁶⁴ This seems to have subsequently been devolved to local committees. While the level of ejectment in Sussex appears to be lower than in the first decade, it seems clear that clergy were removed for a variety of reasons and some references suggest that men holding a profitable or otherwise ‘comfortable’ benefice were occasionally removed to make way for a protégé of the committee or other influential person.⁶⁵ The rectory of Pulborough became the subject of a dispute in 1658. The county commissioner, Colonel John Downes, appointed William Cooper on 24 September. On 19 November Matthew Poole was appointed by Thomas Henshaw the younger, under-sheriff, but on 8 December he in turn was replaced by Jeremiah Dyke, also appointed by Downes. Fiona McCall discusses this theme further in Baal’s Priests. Walker states that Aquila Cruso’s living was worth £80 pa and his sequestration is thought to have been dubious. John Large’s living was thought to have been worth £300 pa and he was also sequestered.⁶⁶

Often supplanting ministers were themselves removed within a short time. Sometimes a minister who had ‘intruded’ with little or no official authority was challenged by the community or by official intervention. At Aldingbourne, Daniel Thompson was replaced by John Goldsmith in 1644. By 1645 Thompson had returned, under the impression that sequestration had ended. Goldsmith appealed to the Committee for Plundered Ministers who ordered Thompson’s removal but he refused to leave. Goldsmith himself was removed, leaving Thompson in place. At Hurstpierpoint, Christopher Swale was removed by the Westminster Assembly, who appointed Morgan Haine in his place. He in turn was replaced by Humphrey Street, who had previously served Hove and Preston. He was then replaced by Leonard Letchford, but the parishioners demanded the return of Street. The outcome of this dispute has not survived.⁶⁷ Similar scenarios occurred in other parishes, occasionally accompanied by violence as either candidate sought to impose their entitlement. An ejected minister might still retain local support. William Fist of Wiston and Ashurst was sequestered c.26 February 1645/6. On 1 July 1647 the committee received a complaint that he had, with the help of three others, ‘thrust himself into the pulpit and prayed there by force’. John Goff[e]‌ of Ripe was accused of fomenting a party against the intruding minister, Fairfull.⁶⁸

Supplanting ‘clergy’ were not necessarily more blameless than those they replaced. At East Lavant, Joseph Henshaw was supplanted in 1653 by Richard Bettsworth. The parish register contains the following:

The register also indicates that Bettsworth was replaced in 1658 by Robert Parke, who continued there until 1660.⁷⁰

Some parishes appear to have suffered more uncertainty and disruption than others. A small number of parishes experienced repeated changes within a short period – Ninfield has seven names associated with it in 1635–65 and Peasmarsh ten in the same period. John Giles had held both parishes, along with Penhurst, until he was sequestered in 1644/5. When he died at Penhurst ten years later, he left money for sermons to be preached in all three parishes on the anniversary of his death. This is not unique in the county by any means. Such frequent disruptions must have been, at the very least, unsettling for parishioners, particularly during a time of war.

Even where they disappeared from Sussex, clergy may have retained livings across the county boundaries in Kent, Surrey or Hampshire. It is difficult to unravel the precise dates when incumbencies changed, especially where the parishes concerned were in different counties. Even where someone subsequently died in one of ‘his’ parishes, it does not necessarily imply that he was still incumbent and there is often evidence to the contrary, suggesting that he either retreated to private property in the area or sought refuge with a sympathetic parishioner.⁷¹

It is evident from the records of (inter alia) the Committee of Plundered Ministers that as early as 1646, large sums of money, raised from sequestrations of royalist estates, were used by parliament to engineer the nature of the clergy throughout the county.⁷² An order of 3 June 1646 allotted the sum of £150 from the income of the cathedral ‘for … the maintenance of three learned and orthodox divines appointed to officiate in the City of Chichester’.⁷³

Not only did the nature of the clergy change between 1642 and 1653, but so did its function. Conduct of marriages was removed to state control in 1653. Ardingly parish register recorded the change:

The wording of this and a similar entry in 1655 indicates that the registrars were elected by the parishioners, but whether this was by popular vote or that of the vestry or some form of parish council is unclear.

It is difficult to gauge how rigorous the enforcement of measures against the clergy was in Sussex. Incumbents were forced from their livings, but what proportion of this was due to a general strategy and how much down to their popularity or otherwise is another matter.⁷⁵ There are fragments of evidence of action being taken against ministers for infringements of the new procedures, but often the records do not show whether these measures were ever completed. In 1655 the quarter sessions ordered that ‘a warrant be issued forth against Mr. William Rogers, Minister of Chiddingly, … for marrying of divers persons without certificate contrary to the late Act’.⁷⁶ At the Lewes session on 4 October there was a warrant against John Cooke and Thomas Plains, constables, for not executing a warrant against William Rogers. There is no further reference and it would appear the matter was allowed to drop. CCED has no reference to William Rogers at Chiddingly. The only William Rogers found was at Chailey, removed from there c.1650. If the Chiddingly man had been ignoring the statute this might indicate that he is the same one, but in the absence of further information this cannot be proved. The two parishes are not far apart and Rogers may have held both in plural, retreating to Chiddingly when he lost Chailey.⁷⁷

There is no clear picture of what happened in the first few years after the Restoration. There were twenty-four references to clergy being restored to parishes from which they had been ousted and only eight who appear to have remained undisturbed throughout the war and the interregnum and post 1660.⁷⁸ Many clergy had of course died or otherwise vanished in 1641–60, leaving space for a large number of incomers. There is only one reference to a man being ordained during this period, Thomas Goldham, minister of the chapel of East Chiltington in 1646, who was ordained minister by the Fourth London Classis on 31 January 1648/9.⁷⁹ He is listed at Hartley Wespall (Hampshire) in 1650 and later Burwash, where he kept the grammar school before being ejected for non-conformity in 1662.⁸⁰ He seems to have remained in the area as he was buried there in 1691. There were further upheavals after the restoration of the monarchy and a significant number of clergy who had acquired livings during the Civil Wars and interregnum found themselves removed from their parishes if they refused to conform or in order to make way for an incumbent previously ousted.

Conclusion

So what patterns emerge overall from this chapter? The figures show that there was a higher level of disruption in Sussex than has previously been acknowledged, a product more likely of the degree of religious polarization in the county than of any proximity or otherwise to areas of actual disruption attributable to the wars and their aftermath. But the picture of the religious complexion of the county across this relatively short period is complex. It is too much of a simplification to state that the ‘religious colour’ was more Catholic/Arminian in the westernmost part and more puritan/reformed Protestant in the easternmost parts. Pockets of ‘resistance’ to this simple picture occur in various locations across the county, although it is fair to say that there are no obviously ultra-‘reformed’ parishes in the western half and the pockets of ‘Catholic/high Church Anglicanism’ that occur in the eastern half can be associated with the beliefs of local magnates such as the Gages at Firle, despite their location close to Lewes, a centre of non-conformity. There were wide variations of experience, not only regionally but even within much smaller localities. There is no discernible pattern in the distribution of clergy according to their own leanings and it would require a parish-by-parish examination to map any clusters, although a conclusion can be drawn from many of the wills that many of the men were on close terms with, or related by marriage to, the incumbents of neighbouring parishes. This must surely indicate some congruity of belief or ideology.

Levels of affluence among the Sussex clergy were highly variable, education less so. In general, in line with trends identified by Ian Green, Sussex clergy ordained from the 1630s onwards appear to have been better educated than those appointed in the earlier part of the century. A significant number came from outside Sussex and the south-east generally, some from a considerable distance. Was it easier for local people, already unsettled by the rapid religious changes in the locality, to accept a ‘stranger’ than someone who had originated closer to home? But did this ‘strangeness’ perhaps leave incumbents with a less secure hold over their livings in more turbulent times? The chapter shows numerous instances of clergy whose tenure of a parish was obviously not tranquil, either for themselves or their parishioners. Comments in wills reveal a number of men whose experience had obviously left its mark. Some are just a passing reference to the ‘troubled times’ but others are much longer lamentations of loss and privation.

H. M. Whittle, ‘The clergy of Sussex: the impact of change, 1635– 65’, in Church and people in interregnum Britain, ed. F. McCall (London, 2021), pp. 111–134. License: CC BY-NC-ND.