Aelred Carlyle at Little Guiting in Gloucestershire Extracts from Peter Anson, ‘The Benedictines of Caldey, the Story of the Anglican Benedictines of Caldey and their Submission to the Catholic Church, The Catholic Book Club, 1939 (1940 edition) Page 28: In September 1897, just as Br. Aelred was beginning to feel the demands on his time and the distractions of parish work were becoming a serious hindrance to monastic observance, he received an invitation from the Rev. J.E. Green, D.D., Vicar of Lower Guiting, in Gloucestershire, to occupy his empty vicarage-house, where an associate of the community, the Rev. Herbert Drake, usually known as “Br. Anselm, O.S.B.,” was acting as curate in charge of the parish. He had already renamed the vicarage “St Bernard’s Monastery.” A few weeks later Br. Aelred and one of his companions went to Lower Guiting to discuss matters with the vicar, who only occasionally resided in his parish. Dr. Green must have been of an original, if not eccentric character, for in taking them round the village he aroused much curiosity among the natives by introducing the two monks as the Bishop of Jerusalem and the Pope of Rome! The Brothers were afterwards regaled with a meal of tinned salmon, new bread and butter, and extremely strong tea. The vicar sat up very late that night, entertaining his weary visitors at the piano with music of his own composition, when they themselves were longing to get to bed. Br. Aelred returned to London fully aware that Lower Guiting vicarage was not exactly the ideal home for his community, and before coming to any decision, discussed the situation with Mr. Cowan, with whom he had been so closely associated for nearly two years. He too felt that the time had now come when it would be better for the Brothers to retire to the country, and in the end it was decided to accept Dr. Green’s offer… “after the profession the two of us returned to the Isle of Dogs,” writes the other member of the community, “and during the evening a farewell reception was held at the Priory. I do not remember much about the farewell party, except that it was extremely lugubrious. The house was bare to begin with, as the few scanty and valueless articles of monastic property had been sent on ahead to Lower Guiting, and in these unfurnished and uncomfortable halls was gathered a crowd of boys and lads who cheered our immediate departure with their tears and lamentations… But the reception came to an end in due time, the boys said their last tearful farewells, promised never to forget us, and I believe we slept the night on the bare boards which was a mere trifle in the general mournfulness chill damp day, and the streets were wrapped in the mists of a river fog. A few of the mothers were at their doors as we passed by, wishing us good-bye with tears in their eyes…” 1 “It was a complete severance of old ties, and a plunge forward more or less in the dark to a new life, of which we knew very little, and which held the whole future for us. At the Isle of Dogs it had been possible to form some principles, and now the time had come for putting these principles into practice.”… The journey took several hours, for Lower Guiting lay off the main line. Late in the afternoon the little wayside station of Notgrove, between Kingham Junction and Cheltenham, was reached, and then came a three-mile walk to the village, across the snow-covered Cotswolds. St. Benedict seemed determined to test the endurance of the Brothers. They found the vicarage locked up, and no provision had been made for their arrival on the cold February evening. After some difficulty one of them managed to get in through a lower window, and opened the door. “What a change from London and its life and movement,” one of the Brothers wrote in later years. “Here there was dead silence, and the earth was wrapped in its white mantle of winter. The trees stood out gaunt and bare, and a solitary rook here and there broke the stillness with a dismal caw. It was like coming into realm of death, and first impressions were anything but cheerful.” (Pax, IV, No. 31, p. 574.)… Page 35, Chapter III, ‘Lower Guiting – Cowley – London – Iona (1898- 1899): Lower Guiting (or Guiting Power to give it the official name) is one of those many old Gloucestershire villages of warm grey stone which nestle among the Cotswolds. It lies in a secluded position in the valley of the Windrush, a tributary of the Thames. It is about midway between Cheltenham and Stow-on-the-Wold, and a mile or two from any main road. Forty years ago it was much more remote than to-day, and its inhabitants lived ina little world of their own. But even in 1938 it has not changed very much, and gives one the impression that it must have fallen asleep two or three centuries ago, and has never woken up again. In 1898 the inhabitants had decreased to three hundred and seventy from the six hundred and thirty which was the population about 1870. When the Brothers arrived here they found that at least half the houses were uninhabited. To add to the strange and depressing character of the village, a large number of people suffered from epilepsy. The vicar, the Rev. J.E. Green, D.D., had been non-resident for many years; services in the church being held from time to time by visiting clergy. The sequestration of the living for a debt owing to the peculiarly named charitable fund, Queen Anne’s Bounty, allowed the churchwardens to nominate these temporary “curates in charge,” with disastrous results. Both religion and morality were conspicuous by their absence in this village, wherein Fr. Aelred (He assumed the title “Father” after his Solemn Profession.) and his companion proposed to lead the contemplative life. Not only did they find the vicarage locked on their arrival that snowy evening; but the church itself was in a half ruinous condition, the chancel being boarded off from 2 the nave and transepts. (It was rebuilt in 1903 and the interior to-day is in a very different state to what it was when the two Anglican Benedictines worshipped there in 1898.) Apart from a few rooms reserved for the vicar when he came to Lower Guiting, the large house, situated some distance from the church, was entirely at the disposal of the two Brothers and the curate-in-charge of the parish. They adapted a loft above the stables as their chapel. Either here (after permission had been obtained from the Bishop) or in the Parish Church Fr. Anselm used to say Mass every morning. But he had also to serve a Chapel of Ease about four miles away. The same Brother whose reminiscences of the Isle of Dogs have already been quoted has left us a vivid picture of the daily life which he and his companions lived at Lower Guiting. “On Wednesday, February 23rd, 1898, the regular observance of Rule began. Matins and Lauds were said at 2 a.m.; Prime was at 6, followed by a slight pittance. The morning was given to various kinds of work, and when this was done there was a little time for reading. Sext was at midday, followed by dinner and the ‘meridian’ rest. At 2 None was said, after which came work for the afternoon until Vespers, the Prayer Time, Supper, and a short recreation; Compline and retirement for the night. It was a very quiet uneventful life, with no converse with the outside world; there was plenty of work to do in the house and garden, and a consuming interest and real love for the life that was being led. Hard it certainly was, but the Brothers were young and keen, and undoubtedly happy.” (Pax, IV, No. 32, p.668.) The community numbered four during the first few months, but as has already been stated, one of them – Br. Alban – went off to prison during the spring of 1898, and the other man returned to secular life. On Sundays the Brothers attended an early celebration of the Holy Eucharist at the parish church, assisted at the midday service, but did not often go to Evensong. There was sufficient room in the tiny chapel for a few seculars. Its windows at the back overlooked the village green. Sometimes a handful of the more inquisitive inhabitants would venture into the stable-yard, through the big double gates, and up the outside staircase. They followed the recitation of Vespers with interest and curiosity, also the devotions before the Reserved Sacrament which followed. From time to time one of the Cowley Fathers came over from Oxford to hear the confessions of the Brothers. Relations between the community and the villagers were quite friendly during the first few months. Most of the latter were Nonconformists, and never set foot in the parish church, preferring the grim-looking, stone-built Dissenting chapel at the north end of the village. But there was one woman who soon began to make herself troublesome. She lived in a cottage near the stables, and whenever she heard the bell ringing at the Brothers’ chapel, “was in the habit of walking up and down the little garden, and whilst she rang a small handbell, spoke aloud her wishes that many unpleasant things might happen to the monks.