Stories of Stondon Massey

Revd. Thomas Smith

Revd. Thos. Smith of Stondon on one occasion was rolling the gravel in front of his house with his gardener, when suddenly the Church Bells began to ring. “Why!” said the Rector, “what are they thinking of now?” “Well that’s a good ‘un”, replied the man, “I think you ought to know”. (It was Sunday – Ed.)

Revd. John Oldham

Mr Oldham, sometime rector of the parish of Stondon Massey was a man reverenced far and wide for his great abilities. He had been brought up to the Law before taking Orders and his proficiency in this branch of learning raised him in the eyes of his parishioners and neighbours. Veterans of the village can recollect fours-in-hand driving up to his rectory and carrying off legal advice from this clerical lawyer.

Mr Oldham built the present rectory house in a style possibly of his own peculiar. Certainly if not his own – it is peculiar; The rector – so the story goes – was one day inspecting his laurel bushes by the front gate when some passers by made rather rude remarks upon the architecture of the buildings observing finally that “the man who built that house ought to be hanged”. “But he’s not hanged yet” said the old gentleman, starting up from his place of concealment. Imagine the traveller’s horror!

Mr Oldham was strict and stern, but kind hearted and somewhat eccentric it would seem. I have from Mr Noble a tradesman of Ongar that the Rev. gentleman was very fond of snuff and to save trouble to him domestics had a tub of water in his study wherein a number of handkerchiefs could be always soaking and washing in numbers. “We would have them to dry before his fire!”

Revd. John Oldham

This same Mr Oldham erected a tomb for himself in Stondon churchyard and had the inscription relating to himself placed upon it in his lifetime, only the date of his decease remaining for his relatives to supply. Now and again he would visit the spot, inviting his friends to come with him, and see “his house”.

Revd. Thomas Hubbard

The rector of Stondon Massey who succeeded Mr Oldham and immediately preceded my father, was the Revd Thos Hubbard – a brother of John Gellibrand Hubbard Esquire of the Privy Council. He only lived about seven or eight years at Stondon, his wife voting the place dull.

Revd. Thomas Hubbard

He was rather unfortunate, it would seem, in his endeavours to exact the outward forms of respect from the juvenile proportion of the population. On one occasion he met a boy who did not make his obeisance to the rector of the parish, and who, on being reprimanded, replied, “I keeps my bows for Mr Page” (one of the principal farmers).

On another occasion Mr Hubbard met a boy carrying a heavy basket on his head, and seeing his predicament as he supposed, kindly said, “You need not touch your hat to me today my boy”. “I wasn’t a-going to” replied the ungrateful juvenile.

Captain Reeve

Captain Reeve in fancy-dress for a Masquerade ball (1810)
A self-portrait from his commonplace book

When my father [Revd. Edward James Reeve] first came to Stondon Massey as Rector, Captain Reeve lived at the Rectory House at Stondon with him, with my grandmother and Aunt Mary.

They had lately become possessed of a young donkey which Miss Mary Reeve used to drive about. One day the animal was not forthcoming, and Captain Reeve with characteristic activity put an advertisement in the paper offering 1£ reward for its safe restoration. Three or four days passed, and the beast did not appear; at last the coachman had occasion to go to an old cowshed where the main supply of hay was kept, and there to his astonishment was the truant donkey. Evidently it had got in when the man last went to the shed in the evening, and the key had been turned on it. The donkey had enough to eat, but his good fortune had been somewhat tempered, for he had nothing to drink, and when the door was opened he made immediately for the pond, and began to drink with an energy which bade fair to prove fatal. Captn. Reeve, though glad to recover his lost property, was still annoyed to think of the disturbance which his advertisement had created, and the more so that friends would from time to time gently chaff him upon the subject.

Mrs Edward Reeve [the Captain’s wife] was the eldest daughter of Mr James Stutter of Higham Hall [Suffolk]. She was a great invalid in her later years, and during her residence at Stondon seldom was seen outside the house. The Captn. would vainly try to entice her out declaring that the sun was shining brightly, but even if he elicited a promise from her to try its charms he would return a few moments later only to find her putting on her boots – the lacing of which was a work of time. When a new domestic was wanted, great troops of applicants would appear at the window to be called in one by one, and the Capt. would be outside and wink significantly if he saw one approaching whom he thought would suit! On one occasion Mrs Reeve in questioning one more likely than the rest, asked her if she had been confirmed, and received a somewhat amusing reply, that she “had not yet, but that she was good at her needle”.

Mrs Reeve was of silent habits, and particularly reticent at meals, when, if she chanced to make a remark which caused merriment to the party, she would merely smile and say “I am glad you are amused”.

If the said party assembled grumbled at the fare provided for them, but the good lady afterwards found devouring the same, and even applying for a second helping, she would sarcastically say, “You seem to eat it, though”.
Reverend Edward James Reeve

Revd. Edward James Reeve

“In medio tutissimus ibis” is the Rector’s of Stondons motto. Imbued with a firm belief in the English Church, he is equally uncompromising to Roman Catholic and Dissenter, courting neither the one nor the other out of fear or favour.

Mr Ely, Rector of Broomfield near the Curacy of Little Waltham, said to him in those early days of his ministry, “Your sentiments are right, but you will never be popular”.

On some points of Church doctrine or discipline my father feels so strongly, that in speaking of them he seems almost inspired to inveigh against those who would make breaches in her walls. On such occasions he feels as though he would like to be addressing a huge mass of people on some wide plain, and fancies them still pouring in to hear him. “How many are there?” he supposes to himself to ask, “20000 Sir” is the reply, “and they are still coming up”. “Let them come on”. And when assembled, he can imagine himself addressing them all, and like Samson, dying at the hour of triumph.

Mr Wyndham Holgate Inspector of Schools, sent by the Government round the Country to inquire into the state of school buildings – whether or no they were adequate to the number of children etc – in due course came to Stondon. Had the cubic weight of air in the room been deemed insufficient, the Government could have obliged the parish to build another school of proper proportions. It was however deemed to be sufficient. My father is in possession of the title deeds of the ground on which the school stands, it being given to the rector by Mr Philip Herman Meyer the Lord of the Manor for use as School property as long as the school should be conducted according to the principles of the Church of England. Mr Wyndham Holgate endeavoured to persuade my father that he only had to accept the conditions of Government called the “Conscience Clause” (by which children, whose parents objected to the teaching of the English Church, might be instructed in secular learning only) to obtain a Grant from Government, instead of paying the salary of the governess himself. This was just the proposition to call forth his best energies, and I have it from Mrs Meyer herself who was present at the time, that she never heard such a torrent of eloquence, such pithy and witty sentences; such speedy, such sharp retorts. He had the best of the argument throughout, and his adversary retreated, assuring him that there were only two other such in the kingdom, and that he was a regular old John Bull. On wishing the Rector good-day, the Inspector said, “You are quite right, Mr Reeve, there is no doubt, in your view of the matter.” Edward Henry Lisle Reeve