Showing posts with label Lichfield Mercury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lichfield Mercury. Show all posts

17 July 2026

Four weddings and some
Wolseley funerals: stories
of marriage and divorce
in a Staffordshire family

Wolseley Hall, destroyed in a serious fire in the early 1950s and demolished in 1966 … the ancestral home of the Wolseley family

Patrick Comerford

I have been writing in recent weeks about the divorce scandal in the Talbot and Chetwynd family that becoming a sensation far beyond polite social circles in Victorian Rugeley and Lichfield in the 1860s and filled column after column in newspapers across the world.

During my summer rambles through Stafford, Rugeley, Wolseley, Lichfield and Tamworth, I was reminded of some of these marriages and divorces, with stories that must have created gossip among people who saw themselves at the centre of social life in south Staffordshire 150 or 200 years ago.

William Henry Chetwynd (1811-1890) and his wife Blanche Mary Talbot (1836-1898), 25 years his junior and a niece Henry Chetwynd-Talbot, 18th Earl of Shrewsbury, were involved in a sensational divorce case in 1864-1865. The gossip created by the case of Chetwynd v Chetwynd echoed, in many ways, the attention a century earlier to the bigamy and divorce trials involving the widowed Sir William Wolseley (1692-1779) and the widowed Ann Whitbey (1724-1782), a case that dragged on in civil and church courts over two years, from 1752 to 1754.

But I was reminded too during those summer walks of at least four other marriages in the Wolseley family down through the generations that were interesting and colourful. They may not have created scandal in the same ways but, at times, they saved the Wolseley family from what seemed like certain financial and social ruin.

The coat-of-arms used by the Duques de Losada y Lousada … but were they really entitled to their titles? (Source)

1, The Jamaican planter: was he a Spanish duke?

Marianne Wolseley (1813-1881) of Wolseley and Count Francis Baruch Lousada (1813-1870), who was born into a rich family of sugar planters in Jamaica, were married in Saint George’s Church, Hanover Square, London, on 25 November 1834. Marianne’s father, Sir Charles Wolseley (1769-1838), had succeeded as the seventh baronet in 1817 and was a radical politician who was at the storming of the Bastille in 1789 and was surety for some of the victims of the Peterloo Massacre in 1819. He was jailed in 1820 for sedition and conspiracy, and his political activism threatened the financial stability of his family.

However, his daughter Marianne managed to avoid her own possible financial and social ruin in 1834 when she married Count Francis Baruch Lousada. The Baruch Lousada family in Jamaica commissioned a Spanish herald and genealogist to produce a set of lurid, expensive-looking but specious documents enabling them to claim they were the successors to the titles of the Duque de Losada.

Isaac Lousada (1783-1857) assumed the title of Duque de Losada in 1848, and after he died his eldest son, Emanuel de Lousada, lost little time in making himself known as the Duke de Losada y Lousada, drafting and fabricating a family tree for an entry in Burke’s Peerage.

It is a pointless genealogical exercise to explain his claimed link to the Spanish duke, and there is no logical way to trace how the dukes inherited – in Spain – a moribund Italian title that had been held by someone they were not related to. The creative, but nonetheless fictitious, explanations are found in the work of the Spanish herald and genealogist, the gullibility of the genealogical authorities in Spain and London, and the audacity of Emanuel.

The reward for the whole escapade and the social and political compensation for the expenses in pursuing this genealogical deception were many: Emanuel received a British passport in 1862; his brother Francis married into the minor ranks of the British nobility when he married Marianne Wolseley, wangled another title in the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and became a British diplomat in the US. Indeed, three further members of his immediate family went unchallenged in their use of the title of duke.

Another version of the coat-of-arms used by the Duque de Losada y Lousada … Marianne Wolseley was daughter-in-law of the first duke, sister-in-law of the second duke, and mother of the third and fourth dukes (Source)

In polite Victorian society, most people seem never to have queried the standing of the soi-disant dukes, overlooking their peculiar change of name, their use of a hybrid coat of arms and the lack of official authentication. Members of the Lousada family married into leading Sephardic families in England, including the Montefiore and Mocatta families.

Twelve years Marianne and Francis were married, Francis was given the title of Marchese de San Miniato by the Grand Duke of Tuscany in 1846. It was said widely at the time that he paid for the title while Marianne was a lady-in-waiting in London to the Grand Duchess of Tuscany.

Francis Lousada was the British Consul in Rhode Island and Massachusetts, and died in Boston in 1870. Marianne died on 1 November 1884 in Tarvis in Carinthia, Austria, now Tarvisio in Italy. Their eldest son, Horace Francis Lousada (1837-1905), succeeded his father as the second marchese and his uncle as the third duke. The fifth and last duke, Edward Eugene Lousada (1853-1941), returned to live in Jamaica.

The confirmation by Pope Leo XIII of Anita Murphy, later Lady Wolseley … a painting in the Villa Magistrale on the Aventine in Rome

2, the daughter of an American Papal ‘marchese’:

Marianne Wolseley’s marriage to this soi-disant marchese, and the titles used by her children create a story with many parallels in that of the marriage almost 30 years later in 1883 of her nephew, Sir Charles Wolseley (1846-1931), the ninth baronet, and Anita Murphy, the daughter of an Irish-American magnate, Daniel T Murphy, who bought the title of marchese from the Pope.

Sir Charles Wolseley may have found a role model or inspiration in his aunt Marianne, for he married into a wealthy family with a title that had been bought and in the hope of rescuing lost fortunes and social status.

Esther (née Chichester) Grehan wrote from London in 1882 to her husband in Dublin, Stephen Grehan (1859-1937), describing how Charles came to London to look for an heiress. My interest is added to by Stephen’s descent through his mother from the Langton and Comerford families of Danganmore Castle, Co Kilkenny. In her letters, laden with snobbery, elitism and disdain, Esther describes how Charles was introduced to two Irish-American Murphy sisters from San Francisco, who were ‘vulgar but pretty.’ He fell in love, but had a reputation as a fortune hunter, and was distraught when he was rejected.

But, undeterred, Charles married the elder sister, Anna Theresa (Anita) Murphy in 1883. Her father, an Irish-American entrepreneur Daniel T Murphy, founded the pioneer house of Murphy, Grant & Co, and was living in San Francisco. Anita, her sisters and her mother had moved to London, and they moved in fashionable circles in England and Europe. Anita was confirmed by Pope Leo XIII and a painting of Anita and her sister at their confirmation by Pope Leo XIII was once in the Wolseley family collection, and was still at Wolseley in 1971 when I interviewed Sir Charles Wolseley for the Lichfield Mercury and the Rugeley Mercury.

Later, Anita was presented at the Court of Saint James. She visited Osborne, the royal residence on the Isle of Wight, where she met Queen Victoria and Princess Beatrice, ancestor of the Mountbatten family. In her diary, Anita tells how she turned down a proposal of marriage from Prince Luigi del Drago, an Italian whose family included many cardinals and princes. Back in England, Anita’s first choice as husband was George Brundenell-Bruce, then known as Viscount Savernake and later 4th Marquess of Ailesbury. But Willie, as he was known, was an incessant gambler with an excessive lifestyle, and he brought his family to the brink of financial disaster. Eventually, he married Dolly Tester, a music hall actress, and Anita had a fortuitous escape from certain calamity.

Anita’s father, Daniel T Murphy, was a self-made multi-millionaire who had more money than he could spend. In 1857, he married Anna Geoghagan, also from an Irish family. The couple were the parents of four daughters, Isabella (Issy), Helene (Nellie), Anna Theresa (Anita) and Frances (Fanny), and three sons, Eugene, Daniel and Samuel.

Daniel Murphy visited his wife and daughters in London at least once a year. He was a staunch Roman Catholic and donated $5 million to Pope Pius IX. In return, the Pope made Murphy first a Knight and then a Knight Commander of the Order of Saint Gregory. Pope Leo XIII, who confirmed two of his daughters in Rome, gave Murphy the Grand Cross of Saint Gregory, and with a royal and papal patent of nobility, gave him the papal title of marchese or marquis, with the right of succession to his eldest son and his heirs.

Murphy enjoyed showing his American friends the papal patent, but he never used the title in public and his wife continued to be known in London only as Mrs Murphy and not as marchesa.

Anita Murphy and Sir Charles Wolseley were married on 17 July 1883 in the Catholic Pro-Cathedral in Kensington. The four bridesmaids were her three sisters, Nellie, Frances and Isabella, and a Miss Bedingfeld. The wedding Mass was said by the Revd Cuthbert Wolseley, OP, a Dominican priest and a younger brother of the groom – he was born Robert Joseph Wolseley (1850-1920). The wedding was blessed by Cardinal Henry Edward Manning, Archbishop of Westminster, and there was a telegram from Pope Leo XIII.

The newspapers of the day delighted in lengthy lists of the titled and public figures who attended, including the US ambassador and poet James Russell Lowell, the Duke of Norfolk, Prince Doria Pamphilji, a son-in-law of the Earl of Shrewsbury, the Marquis of Bute and Lady Londonderry.

Anita (Murphy) Wolseley tired of life at Wolseley Hall and travelled abroad, alone … it was divorce Catholic-style in the early 20th century

On the day Anita and Charles were married, Mrs Murphy gave her first-born a cheque for $5 million drawn on the Bank of England. Daniel T Murphy died within two years in the Windsor Hotel, New York, on 3 June 1885. Many of his business interests passed to his brother Henry M Murphy and son, also Daniel T Murphy. His wife had arrived from England earlier that week and was with him when he died, as were two of his sons and a daughter.

In his will, dated 15 May 1883, Murphy left various bequests to the Catholic Church and family members, with his daughters receiving at least $50,000 each, even if that meant his sons received less. At first, Anita’s inheritance was estimated at $2 million, but Charles Wolseley never got his hands on it. By the time the marriage contract had been signed, Daniel T Murphy had died Anita’s sisters contested their father’s will. When Anita received her money, it was for her personally and not for her husband.

Jeannie Wolseley later said the marriage was relatively happy to begin with; the couple were the parents of two sons, Sir Edric Charles Joseph Wolseley (1886-1954) and Colonel William Wolseley (1887-1977). But Anita soon tired of life at Wolseley Hall and in rural Staffordshire, and she began travelling abroad, alone. She sent Charles a regular allowance, but this dropped steadily. It was divorce Catholic-style in the early 20th century.

By 1919, he had to sell almost all the contents of Wolseley Hall and several hundred acres of his estate. A broken man, he moved to Surrey and died on 30 January 1931, and was brought back to Rugeley to be buried in Saint Joseph and Saint Etheldreda churchyard, where he had donated the East Window by Hardman and Powell; Anita died on 11 October 1937.

The grave of Sir Charles Wolseley (1846-1931), the ninth baronet, in Saint Joseph and Saint Etheldreda churchyard, Rugeley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

3, Colonel William Wolseley and the Catholic Church:

When Sir Charles Wolseley died in 1931, the Wolseley title and estate passed to his elder son, Sir Edric Wolseley, tenth baronet and grandfather of the late Sir Charles Wolseley. Their younger son, Colonel William Wolseley (1887-1977), also had an interesting life and his life story is also the story of yet another interesting Wolseley marriage.

William Ralph Joseph Wolseley was born in London on 1 July 1887, the younger son of Sir Charles Michael Wolseley and Anita Murphy. He was a captain in the Staffordshire Yeomanry during World War I, and was mentioned in dispatches and decorated. He was a Justice of the Peace for Shropshire from 1939, and during World War II he was a colonel in the Royal Pioneer Corps.

William Wolseley married a vicar’s granddaughter, Ruth Gertrude Hargreaves (1893-1962), in Gnosall on 10 November 1923. Ruth was one of three daughters of Colonel Robert Halstead Hargreaves (1861-1909) of Knightley Grange, near Eccleshall. Her maternal grandfather was the Revd Charles Holden Steward (1859-1915).

The Wolseley family were staunchly Catholic, but when William married Ruth, the vicar’s granddaughter she would not agree to bring up any future children as Roman Catholics. In order to go ahead with the marriage, William had to leave the Catholic Church and he was excommunicated.

Ruth (Hargreaves) Wolseley (left) as a child with her sisters Violet (centre) and Nancy

Family members tell me Ruth ‘smoked cigars like a chimney and swore like a trooper’. She was, by all accounts, a tiny woman with a very domineering character, who probably gave William little choice but to leave the Catholic Church in order to marry her. They lived at Knightley Grange, and during World War II Ruth was in the Women’s Land Army and the WVS. Although William was devoted to Ruth, family members believe his decision to leave the Catholic Church caused him great upset in later life.

Ruth and William were the parents of a son and daughter: Robert William Hargreaves Wolseley (1924-1998), and Veronica Ruth Theresa Rose Wolseley (1928-2019). Ruth died at Knightley Grange in 1962, William Wolseley died in 1977. Some of the more valuable contents of Knightley Grange were sold off at auction over two days in June 1966, and the property, which had been in the Hargreaves family for over 100 years, was sold in 1967.

The house at Knightley Grange was finally demolished in 2019.

The house at Knightley Grange where Ruth and William Wolseley lived after they married in 1923 was demolished in 2019

4, Another American in the family:

William Wolseley’s elder brother, Sir Edric Wolseley (1886-1954), was the grandfather of the late Sir Charles Wolseley (1944-2018), the 11th baronet. A painting of two of the Murphy girls at their confirmation by Pope Leo XIII was once among the paintings in the Wolseley family collection. It was still at Wolseley Park in 1971 when I interviewed Sir Charles for the Lichfield Mercury and the Rugeley Mercury.

It was a well-edited feature, with a fine photograph of Charles and his first Anita (Fried) and their eldest daughter. They warmly welcomed me to Wolseley Park House, more features followed on the Dyott, Anson, Levett and other families, and I built up a portfolio that helped to set me up for a 30-year career as a journalist.

At the time, I was in my late teens training as a chartered surveyor, and Charles Wolseley was then a chartered surveyor with Smith Gore in Lichfield, driving a trademark red sports car around town, commuting daily between Lichfield and Wolseley.

Charles and Anita were divorced in 1984, and later that year he married the American writer Imogen (Jeannie) Brown (1943-2024), who was researching a book on American heiresses who married impoverished English aristocrats.

When Charles and Jeannie had to move out of Wolseley to Penkridge after he was declared bankrupt, she talked about the painting being so large that it would be better placed in a museum in San Francisco. Today it is in the Villa Magistrale on the Aventine in Rome, where it was identified some years ago by Eduard Habsburg-Lothringen when he was the Hungarian Ambassador to the Vatican.

Sir Charles Wolseley and his second wife, Imogene (Jeannie) Brown, in 1992 … after their bankruptcy, they relied on the generosity of neighbours and friends

Family members recall how Charles and Jeannie Wolseley spoke openly of their situation and how people would come up to Charles in the supermarket in Rugeley and place a £10 note in his hand. Frequently they discovered gifts of food, money and even a car delivered to the house.

‘They were clearly a strong couple,’ a family member told me.

I wrote to him when I heard about his problems, enclosed a cutting of that full-page feature in the Lichfield Mercury and the Rugeley Mercury. I thanked him for an opportunity that secured a career in journalism that lasted most of my adult life, and thanked him too for that offer at Smiths Gore.

Despite his divorce and remarriage, Charles seems to have had a happier relationship with the Catholic Church than his uncle William. Charles died on 5 March 2018 and his funeral took place in Saint Joseph and Saint Etheldreda Church on 24 March 2018. His widow Jeannie died in Rugeley two years ago, on 11 July 2024, and her funeral was held in the church on 26 July 2024.

The Wolseley Arms by the River Trent near Rugeley in Staffordshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

24 June 2026

‘Lord, for the years your love has kept and guided,
urged and inspired us, cheered us on our way,
sought us and saved us, pardoned and provided:
Lord for the years, we bring our thanks today’

The Chapel and the Hospital of Saint John Baptist without the Barrs, Lichfield … recalling a journey that began 55 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Today is the Feast of the Birthday of Saint John the Baptist (24 June 2026). I had been planning to be back in Lichfield today for a day of prayer, reflection and thanksgiving, remembering that I was ordained priest 25 years ago on this day, 24 June 2001, and that tomorrow is the anniversary of the day I was ordained deacon 26 years ago (25 June 2000).

I decided not to travel to Lichfield this morning because of the warnings about the soaring temperatures and the advice against travel. But I have reflected throughout this day on these 26 years of ordained ministry, praying, reading, thinking, walking and giving thanks.

Bishops, in the charge to priests at their ordination, call on us to ‘preach the Word and to minister his (God’s) holy sacraments.’ But the bishop also reminds us to be ‘faithful in visiting the sick, in caring for the poor and needy, and in helping the oppressed,’ to ‘promote unity, peace, and love,’ to share ‘in a common witness in the world’ and ‘in Christ’s work of reconciliation,’ and to ‘search for God’s children in the wilderness of this world’s temptations.’

These charges remain a sacred commitment for life, even after a priest retires from parish ministry. I retired from full-time ministry over four ago (31 March 2022) after a stroke earlier that month (18 March 2022), and I am still in the process of seeking Permission to Officiate (PTO). But I shall always remain a priest.

With Archbishop Walton Empey at my ordination as priest in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, on 24 June 2001, and (from left) the Revd Tim Close and the Revd Avril Bennett (Photograph: Valerie Jones, 2001)

As I reflected today on the anniversaries of my ordination, I recalled too how my path to ordination began in Lichfield 55 years ago when I was a 19-year-old, following very personal and special experiences in the chapel dedicated to Saint John the Baptist – the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield – and in Lichfield Cathedral, both of which I return to constantly, and which I continue to see as my personal homes.

It was the summer of 1971, and although I was training to be a chartered surveyor with Jones Lang Wootton and the College of Estate Management at Reading University, I was also trying to become a freelance journalist, contributing features to the Lichfield Mercury, the Rugeley Mercury and the Tamworth Herald.

Late one sunny Thursday afternoon, after a few days traipsing along Wenlock Edge and through Shropshire, and staying at Wilderhope Manor and in Shrewsbury, I had returned to Lichfield.

I was walking from Birmingham Road into the centre of Lichfield, and I was more interested in an evening’s entertainment than prayer or religious life when I stumbled into that chapel out of curiosity. Not because I wanted to see the inside of an old church or chapel, but because I was attracted by the architectural curiosity of the outside of the building facing onto the street, with its Tudor chimney stacks and its Gothic chapel.

I still remember lifting the latch, and stepping down into the chapel. It was late in the afternoon, so there was no light streaming through the East Window, and John Piper’s stained glass window was not yet in place. But as I turned towards the lectern, I was filled in one rush with the sensation of the light and the love of God.

This is not a normal experience for a young 19-year-old … certainly not for one who is focussing on an active social night later on, or on rugby and cricket in the weekend ahead.

But it was – and still is – a real and gripping moment. I have talked about this as my ‘self-defining moment in life.’ It still remains as a lived, living moment.

At the Patronal Festival Eucharist in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, last year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

My first reaction was to make my way down John Street, up Bird Street and Beacon Street and into the Cathedral Close and Lichfield Cathedral. There I slipped into the choir stalls, just in time for Choral Evensong.

It was a tranquil and and exhilarating experience, all at once. But as I was leaving, a residentiary canon shook my hand – I think he was Canon John Yates (1925-2008), then the Principal of Lichfield Theological College (1966-1972) and later Bishop of Gloucester and Bishop at Lambeth. He looked at me amusingly and asked whether a young man like me had decided to start going back to church because I was thinking of ordination.

All that in one day, on that one summer afternoon.

The west front of Lichfield Cathedral in afternoon sunshine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

However, I took the scenic route to ordination. I was inspired by the story of Gonville ffrench-Beytagh (1912-1991), which was beginning to unfold at the time. He was then the Dean of Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Johannesburg, and facing trial when he opened his doors to black protesters who were being rhino-whipped by South African apartheid police on the steps of his cathedral.

My new-found adult faith led me to a path of social activism, campaigning on human rights, apartheid, the arms race, and issues of war and peace. I also moved into journalism full-time, first with the Wexford People and eventually becoming Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times.

While I was working as a journalist, I became a student once again, and completed degrees in theology at the Irish School of Ecumenics and Trinity College Dublin in 1984 and at the Kimmage Mission Institute and Maynooth in 1987. In the back of my mind, that startling choice I was confronted with after evensong in Lichfield Cathedral 55 years ago was gnawing away in the back of my mind.

Letters of ordination as priest by Archbishop Walton Empey (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Of course, it was a long road to ordination, from the age of 19 to the age of 48 … almost 30 years: I returned to study theology at the Church of Ireland Theological College (CITC, now CITI) in 1999, I was ordained deacon on 25 June 2000 and I was ordained priest a year later on 24 June 2001, the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist.

Since then, my ordained ministry has included two years as an NSM curate in Whitechurch Parish, Rathfarnham (2000-2002), while I continued to work as Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times; four years working with mission agencies and as a part-time lecturer in the Church of Ireland Theological College (2002-2006); 11 years on the staff of CITC and CITI as Director of Spiritual Formation, college chaplain, and then Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History (2006-2017); six years also as an adjunct assistant professor in TCD (2011-2017); nine years as a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (2008-2017); and five years in west Limerick and north Kerry in the Diocese of Limerick and Killaloe (now Tuam, Limerick and Killaloe) as priest-in-charge of the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes, Precentor of Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick, Saint Flannan’s Cathedral, Killaloe, Co Clare, and Saint Brendan’s Cathedral, Clonfert, Co Galway, and Director for Education and Training (2017-2022).

That ministry has included school and hospital chaplaincy, membership of the General Synod and various church commissions and committees and school boards, mission agency visits to Egypt, China, Hong Kong, Italy, the Vatican, Rome, Romania, Hungary and Finland, and six years as a trustee of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel). There were additional studies at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies and Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, and the Institutum Liturgicum, based at the Benedictine Study and Arts Centre in Ealing Abbey and KU Leuven.

Archbishop Walton Empey’s inscription on the Bible he gave to me on my ordination to the priesthood on 24 June 2001 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I had started coming to Lichfield as a teenager because of family connections with the area around Lichfield and Tamworth. The traditions of the chapel in Saint John’s Chapel subtly grew on me and became my own personal expression of Anglicanism, while and the liturgical traditions of Lichfield Cathedral nurtured my own liturgical spirituality.

That bright summer evening left me open to the world, with all its beauty, all its problems, all its perplexity and paradoxes, and all its promises.

The chapel in Saint John’s Hospital and Lichfield Cathedral remain my twin spiritual homes, and I had hoped to return to both again today (24 June 2026), to Saint John’s for the Patronal Festival Eucharist at Noon, and to the Cathedral for Choral Evensong at the end of the day.

Then, 11 years ago, Canon Andrew Gorham, the then Master of Saint John’s Hospital, invited me to preach at the Festal Eucharist in the chapel on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist on 24 June 2015. It was also the anniversary of my ordination. The attendance included the Lord-Lieutenant of Staffordshire, Dr Ian Dudson, the Deputy Mayor of Lichfield, Mrs Sheelagh James, and a former Mayor, Mrs Norma Bacon.

Friends from Wexford, including priests, writers, journalists and historians, at my ordination to the priesthood in Chrust Church Cathedral, Dublin, on 24 June 2001

As priests, we normally celebrate the anniversary of our ordination to the priesthood and reflect on it sacramentally. However, I still await PTO in a new diocese and I have found unexpected restrictions on celebrating this day in a meaningful way.

This continues to be trying at a personal level, and I held these emotions and feelings in my heart today, deepened by my disappointment of not being at the mid-day Eucharist in Saint John’s and Evensong in Lichfield Cathedral, and those feelings and emotions were in my heart, silently, at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church in Stony Stratford last Sunday (21 June 2026). There was further sadness today when I heard the news of the death of my lifelong friend, Ian Kirkpatrick. We had once lived around the corner from one another, and he was one of my best friends in my teens and my 20s. He died in Israel a few days ago.

Today was going to be a day for walks around Stowe Pool and Minster Pool, through the streets of Lichfield, along Beacon Street, and perhaps a walk out into the countryside along Cross in Hand Lane or a late lunch in the Hedgehog Vintage Inn at the corner of Stafford Road. Last year, I ended this day at Choral Evensong in Lichfield Cathedral, where the versicles and responses and the Collects for Peace and for Aid Against all Perils were so appropriate at this time of peril and war, and they continue to be meaningful in the same way today:

Give peace in our time, O Lord,
Because there is none other that fighteth for us,
but only thou, O God.


Here at home in Stony Stratford, we had a quiet celebration of the Eucharist. This has been a day to remind myself that I remain a priest forever, and to remind myself where this journey or pilgrimage began 55 years ago, in the summer of 1971, and I was encouraged by Timothy Dudley-Smith’s opening lines of the Post-Communion hymn in Saint John’s on this day last year:

Lord, for the years your love has kept and guided,
urged and inspired us, cheered us on our way,
sought us and saved us, pardoned and provided:
Lord for the years, we bring our thanks today.


Part of the family circle at my ordination to the priesthood in Chrust Church Cathedral, Dublin, on 24 June 2001

21 April 2026

Brereton Methodist Church,
one of the oldest Methodist
churches in Staffordshire,
has closed after 216 years

Brereton Methodist Church, the first church in Brereton, was built in 1809 and rebuilt in 1872 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

In my recent visits to churches in the Stafford and Rugeley areas in Staffordshire, I have been visiting churches I first got to know when I was in my late teens and early 20s, over 50 years ago, when I had a number of friends around Rugeley and Brereton and began writing freelance contributions to the Rugeley Mercury and the Lichfield Mercury.

At the end of last week, I visited Saint Michael’s Church in Brereton, which I wrote about yesterday. I later crossed the Main Road in Brereton to see the sad state of Brereton Methodist Church, which has been closed for over a year now and is on the market.

Brereton Methodist Church and Free School closed last year (March 2025), due to a dwindling congregation and a lack of funds. Although a sign outside continues to say there is a Sunday Service and Junior Church at 10:30, a larger sign advertises its sale through Creative Retail.

When Brereton Methodist Church was built in 1809, it was the first church building in Brereton, predating by almost 20 years Saint Michael’s Church, the Church of England parish church, which was built across the street on the opposite side of the Main Road in 1837.

Methodism was introduced to Brereton in 1806 by Thomas Gething, a colliery manager, and Brereton became a centre of Methodism in the 19th century. A group of Wesleyan Methodists in Brereton registered the house of Thomas Gething’s house as a meeting house in 1806, and a house in Rugeley was registered as a Wesleyan meeting house in 1808.

The first Wesleyan chapel in Brereton was built in 1809. Brereton House was the lifelong home of a local Methodist benefactor Elizabeth Birch and her sister Ann. In 1824, Elizabeth Birch built Railway Cottages, a row of six almshouses close to the Ginny Wagons tramway. The residents were to be poor persons of good moral character, aged over 50, who regularly attended the Methodist Chapel.

Elizabeth Birch also founded the Free School, built in Brereton in 1838 on land she bought from the trustees of the Wesleyan Chapel. The school provided education for boys aged 6-14 with poor parents living within three miles of Brereton. The master was always to be a member of the Wesleyan Methodist Society and the teaching was along religious lines, although lessons had to be free from any sectarian tendencies.

The school was endowed by Elizabeth Birch with £1,500 to pay £50 a year salary to the master and £10 a year for stationery. The school ran a night class for working miners, and fuel to heat the classrooms was provided free each winter from 1876 by Earl Talbot’s collieries in the area.

Two memorial stones marking the rebuilding of Brereton Methodist Church in 1872 (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Thomas Birch and Elizabeth Birch also built six cottages or almshouses in Brereton in 1824 for poor widows aged 50 and over. She left a bequest of £1,500, the income to be spent on repairs and on the provision of 4 shillings a week to each occupant who attended the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel in Brereton.

Elizabeth Birch died in 1842 and was buried in the grounds of Brereton Methodist Church. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Brereton House was occupied by successive general managers of the collieries.

The Methodist Chapel in Brereton was replaced by the present church in 1872.

The school was closed in 1899 and the site was exchanged in 1904 for a larger one, also the property of the trustees of the Wesleyan Chapel. The endowment scheme was reorganised and provision was made for applying any surplus income for exhibitions at Rugeley Grammar School for boys and girls from Brereton.

The school became a controlled school in 1949 and by 1952 it was known as the George Vickers Methodist Primary School, recalling George Vickers who was schoolmaster from 1853 to 1904.

A pair of semi-detached Victorian houses with small front gardens, Wesley Cottages, were built in 1895, close to the road and the old Methodist Free School.

The symmetrical façade of the substantial dark red brick Methodist church stands close to the road, and its buttresses rise to stone pointed finials, creating a distinctive feature on the skyline of Brereton. The single-storey school stands back from the road in an unobtrusive position, yet it has an interesting roof shape and decorative brickwork, as well as a prominent datestone. In recent years, the building was used as a Sunday School and meeting room.

Elizabeth Birch is buried in the small walled graveyard behind Brereton Methodist Church. In all, 26 people are buried there, but the burial ground has not been used since the late 19th century and the last burial was in 1897. The trustees of the Cannock Chase Methodist Circuit agreed last year (2025) to formally close the burial ground at Brereton Methodist Chapel to all new burials ‘with immediate effect’.

Brereton Methodist Church closed last year, and ha been on the market since then with offers in excess of £125,000 being invited. A Methodist church stood on the site for more than two centuries, and a notice outside still says, ‘God welcomes all sorts’. The closure means a sad loss to the life of Brereton.

Brereton Methodist Church closed last year, and has been on the market since then with offers in excess of £125,000 being invited. A Methodist Church stood on the site for more than two centuries, and a notice outside still says, ‘God welcomes all sorts’. The closure means a sad loss to the life of Brereton.

Signs of the times … Brereton Methodist Church closed last year and the building is on the market (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

15 April 2026

A return visit to Wolseley
after 55 years and lunch
in the Wolseley Arms

The Wolseley Arms, by the River Trent, near Rugeley in Staffordshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

I think it must be about 55 years since I previously Wolseley and interviewed Sir Charles Wolseley for the Lichfield Mercury and the Rugeley Mercury.

I was supposed to be training as a chartered surveyor through Jones Lang Wootton in Dublin and London and at the College of Estate Management, then part of Reading University, Charles Wolseley even offered to take me on as a trainee with him at Smiths Gore in Lichfield. Butat that age I had my heart set on becoming a journalist instead.

I was about 19 at that time, and that interview and feature secured my first freelance contract, writing a short series of features for the Lichfield Mercury and the Rugeley Mercury.

I have since passed Wolseley on the route between Stafford and Lichfield a number of times, but some inexplicable reason had never paid a return visit in all those years. I revisited it for the first time last week, when I decided to hop off the Stafford-Lichfield bus at Wolseley Bridge to have lunch at the Wolseley Arms, to walk by the River Trent and the lakes, and to visit the Wolseley Centre on the former Wolseley estate.

Woseley Bridge replaced a mediaeval bridge swept away in a flood in 1795 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Family tradition says the Wolseley estate was given to the family in Anglo-Saxon times by King Edgar in 975 AD as a reward for ridding the area of wolves. As a reminder of that tradition, the Wolseley family adopted the motto Homo Homini Lupus (‘Man is a wolf towards his fellow man’), with a hunting dog in the shield of their coat of arms and a wolf’s head as the crest.

The Wolseley Arms sits on the banks of the River Trent, beside Wolseley Bridge, about 3 km (2 miles). A mediaeval wayfarers’ chapel was built on the bridge, supposedly on the central arch, but it was swept away with the rest of the bridge in 1795.

The pub is said to date back to the 15th century and originally was a hunting lodge on the Wolseley estate before being transformed into a coaching inn on the Liverpool-London route, and at one time, as a staging post for coaches, over 100 horses were kept at the Wolseley Arms.

The Wolseley Arms, said to date back to the 15th century, was known for some decades as the the Roebuck Inn (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The Wolseley Arms was the regular meeting place of the founder members of the Trent and Mersey Canal Co over 250 years ago. The first public meeting of the canal company, chaired by Granville Leveson-Gower (1721-1803), Earl Gower and later Marquess of Stafford, met there on 30 December 1765. When work on building the canal started, the inaugural spade-full of soil was dug out by Josiah Wedgewood at a point close by the inn. The stone section of the canal was completed in 1771.

Much to the chagrin of Sir Charles Wolseley (1769-1846), the seventh baronet, the coach traffic at the Wolseley Arms included the ‘Convict Van’ that stopped there in June 1834 to change horses and feed the convicts. The 18 prisoners were each offered a meal of white bread, cold beef and half a pint of ale.

Wolseley had a radical reputation and might have been expected to be more sympathetic to the plight of prisoners: as a young man in Paris, it is said, he took part in the storming of the Bastille in 1789; and in 1820, a year after his election as an MP, he was jailed for 18 months on charges of sedition and conspiracy.

A faded image of Wolseley Hall in the Wolseley Arms (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The Wolseley Arms changed its name to the Roebuck Inn after the original Roebuck on the other side of the road closed in the 1870s. Apparently, the pub had become known as a place of ill-repute and the Wolseley family did not want their name linked with a place like that.

The old name was partly restored and it became the Roebuck and Wolseley Arms around 1952, and it was still known as both the Wolseley Arms and the Roebuck Inn in 1963, when the Rugeley Times suggested it was one of the few pubs in England known by two names and with two signs to reflect this.

However, only the Wolseley Arms sign remained by 1973. The Wolseley Arms was enlarged that year and given a makeover with a mediaeval theme. It was renovated again in July 1982 when it was officially opened by the photographer Patrick Anson, 5th Earl of Lichfield.

Viscount Wolseley’s coat-of-arms from his ex libris bookplate

The interior decorations and fittings include many mementoes of the Wolseley family, including a faded and jaded image of Wolseley Hall, the seat of the Wolseley family, which was damaged by fire in the 1950s and finally demolished in 1966.

Interestingly, the only portraits on the walls of the Wolseley Arms of members of the Wolseley family are two of Field Marshal Garnet Joseph Wolseley (1833-1913), 1st Viscount Wolseley. But he was actually from the Irish branch of the family, seated at Mount Wolseley in Co Carlow, and was born in Golden Bridge House, Inchicore, Dublin. When his military career was recognised with a peerage in 1885, he paid tribute to his family’s roots in Staffordshire, taking the title of Viscount Wolseley, of Wolseley in the County of Stafford.

In a similar vein, the only heraldic emblem of the Wolseley family decorating the interior of the Wolseley Arms is Viscount Wolseley’s coat-of-arms from his ex libris bookplate.

A portrait of Dublin-born Field Marshal Garnet Joseph Wolseley (1833-1913), 1st Viscount Wolseley, in the Wolseley Arms (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Outside, the Wolseley Arms has managed to mistakenly present the Wolseley coat-of-arms that gives the pub its name. The original arms display a white shield with a red talbot or hunting dog (argent, a talbot passant gules), but on the pub sign the dog has turned in colour to black (argent, a talbot passant sable), the helmet is that of an untitled man rather than a baronet, black and white feathers – seen often in ‘bucket shop’ or AI generated cheap versions of heraldry – have replaced the wolf’s head that was a play on the family’s name and the legend of clearing wolves from this part of Staffordshire, and the displays are devoid of the motto echoing the family legend, Homo Homini Lupus.

I admit to being a heraldry nerd, but I also have a life-long familiarity with the Wolseley arms in heraldry: they are an inversion of the colours on the Comberford and Comerford coat-of-arms (gules, a talbot passant argent), and there were close links between the two families over many generations.

I remember an earlier sign with the correct colours, and hope that this mistake in presenting the Wolseley arms can be rectified by the Wolseley Arms, of all places.

The Wolseley arms at the Wolseley Arms … with the wrong colours and missing the wolf's head crest and the motto referring to the wolf legend (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The Wolseley Arms is a charming country pub and one of the 180 country pubs in Vintage Inn group that includes the Hedgehog in Lichfield and the Fish and Eel at Dobb’s Weir, near Hoddesdon.

After an enjoyable lunch there, I walked along the banks of the River Trent and under Wolseley Bridge, and then across to the Wolseley Centre in the former gardens of Wolseley Hall. Sir Charles Wolseley took a brave step in 1987 when he returned to Wolseley with plans to open the 45-acre landscaped gardens, attracting 250,000 visitors a year.

Wolseley Garden Park cost £1.73 million and was opened by Lord Rothschild in 1990. But the place only took in between £26,000 and £30,000 on gate receipts in its first year. The bank withdrew funding before the garden park was completed, and so had little chance of succeeding. Charles was made bankrupt in 1996 with mounting debts of £2.5 to £3 million, which he blamed on the recession and high interest rates.

The sad failure of that promising venture ended with the Wolseley family losing the 1,490 acre estate and a home that had passed down through successive generations for 1,000 years or more – the latest generation had failed to keep the wolf from the door.

The Wolseley Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve opened in the ground of the former Wolseley estate in 2019 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The Wolseley Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve has been a nature reserve and the headquarters of the Staffordshire Wildlife Trust since 2003.

Sir Charles Wolseley died at the age of 73 on 5 March 2018, and his funeral took place in Saint Joseph and Saint Etheldreda Catholic Church, Rugeley. The site at the Wolseley Centre was redeveloped later that year, and opened as the Wolseley Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve in 2019. The grounds extend to 11 ha (26 acres), including woodlands, lakes, pools and marshland with wildlife habitats, a boardwalk around the pools and marshland, wildflower meadows and display gardens, a sensory garden a café with views across the lake.

In the afternoon April sunshine, I hopped back on the Stafford to Lichfield bus outside the Wolseley Centre, and on a whim decided to stop off in Rugeley before continuing on to Lichfield and Evening Prayer in Lichfield Cathedral. But more about Rugeley, its churches, and some more memories from 55 years ago in the days to come, hopefully.


A walk in April sunshine by the lakes at the Wolseley Centre and nature reserve (Patrick Comerford, 2026)

14 December 2025

An Advent Calendar with Patrick Comerford: 15, 14 December 2025

Advent wreaths on front doors along Wolverton Road in Stony Stratford (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

There are less than two weeks left in Advent this year and today is the Third Sunday of Advent (Advent III, 14 December 2025) or Gaudete Sunday.

At noon each day this Advent, I am offering one image as part of my ‘Advent Calendar’ for 2025, and one Advent or Christmas carol, hymn or song.

My image for my Advent Calendar today is a collage of wreaths on front doors along Wolverton Road in Stony Stratford and on ‘Gaudete Sunday’ for an Avent carol I have chosen Gaudete! gaudete! Christus est natus, which reached No 14 in the British charts with Steeleye Span in the early 1970s.

This song, which was popular in the early 1970s, and I first heard it around the same time as I was introduced to English folk rock while I was in the Midlands and writing for the Lichfield Mercury. On Gaudete Sunday, I think the story of the song is worth telling once again.

The notes on the album sleeve say:

Mist takes the morning path to wreath the willows -
Rejoice, rejoice -
small birds sing as the early rising monk takes to his sandals -
Christ is born of the Virgin Mary –
cloistered, the Benedictine dawn threads timelessly the needle’s eye –
rejoice.


Steeleye Span was formed in 1969, and they often performed as the opening act for Jethro Tull. A year after recording Below the Salt, it came as a surprise to many when they had a Christmas hit single with Gaudete, when it made No 14 in the charts in 1973.

This a capella motet, sung entirely in Latin, is neither representative of Steeleye Span’s repertoire nor of the album. Yet this was their first big breakthrough and it brought them onto Top of the Pops for the first time.

It is one of only three top 50 hits to be sung in Latin. The others are two recordings of Pie Jesu from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Requiem by Sarah Brightman and Paul Miles-Kingston in 1986, and by the then 12-year-old Charlotte Church in 1998.

Gaudete may have been composed in the 16th century, but may date from the late mediaeval period. The song was published in Piae Cantiones, a collection of Finnish and Swedish sacred songs in 1582.

The Latin text is a typical mediaeval song of praise, following the standard pattern of the time – a uniform series of four-line stanzas, each preceded by a two-line refrain (in the early English carol this was known as the burden).

The reference in verse 3, which puzzled many fans at the time, is to the east gate of the city in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezekiel 44: 2). The gate is a traditional symbol of the Virgin Mary.

Since the mid-1970s, Steeleye Span often include Gaudete as a concert encore, and it was published in 1992 in the New Oxford Book of Carols.



The original is here: Gaudete by Steeleye Span.

A more recent recording is available here from the ‘World Tour’ 35th Anniversary DVD.

There are other arrangements by Michel McGlynn, recorded by Anuna, and an arrangement by Bob Chilcott which is part of the Advent and Christmas repertoire of the choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

Let us rejoice in good memories, let us rejoice that Christmas is coming, and in the midst of the present gloom let us rejoice that the coming of Christ holds out the promise of hope, the promise of his Kingdom, the promise that even in darkness the light of Christ shines on us all.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætiticiæ
Devote reddamus.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde Lux est orta
Salus invenitur.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Ergo nostra contio
Psallat jam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

The time of grace has come
that we have desired;
let us devoutly return
joyful verses.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

God has become man,
and nature marvels;
the world has been renewed
by Christ who is King.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

The closed gate of Ezekiel
has been passed through;
whence the light is born,
salvation is found.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

Therefore let our gathering
now sing in brightness,
let it give praise to the Lord:
Greetings to our King.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!




24 June 2025

A day to reflect on
24 years of priesthood
and a journey that began
in Lichfield 54 years ago

The Chapel and the Hospital of Saint John Baptist without the Barrs, Lichfield, today … recalling a journey that began 54 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

Today is the Feast of the Birthday of Saint John the Baptist (24 June 2025). I have been back in Lichfield today where, throughout the day, I have been remembering that I was ordained priest 24 years ago on this day, 24 June 2001, and that tomorrow is the anniversary of the day I was ordained deacon 25 years ago (25 June 2000).

I have reflected throughout this day on these 25 years of ordained ministry, praying, reading, thinking, walking and giving thanks.

Bishops, in the charge to priests at their ordination, call us to ‘preach the Word and to minister his (God’s) holy sacraments.’ But the bishop also reminds us to be ‘faithful in visiting the sick, in caring for the poor and needy, and in helping the oppressed,’ to ‘promote unity, peace, and love,’ to share ‘in a common witness in the world’ and ‘in Christ’s work of reconciliation,’ to ‘search for God’s children in the wilderness of this world’s temptations.’

These charges remain a sacred commitment for life, even after a priest retires from parish ministry. I retired from full-time ministry over three ago (31 March 2022) after a stroke earlier that month, and I am still in the process of seeking Permission to Officiate (PTO). But I shall always remain a priest.

With Archbishop Walton Empey at my ordination as priest in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, on 24 June 2001, and (from left) the Revd Tim Close and the Revd Avril Bennett (Photograph: Valerie Jones, 2001)

As I reflected today on the anniversaries of my ordination, I recalled too how my path to ordination began here in Lichfield 54 years ago when I was a 19-year-old, following very personal and special experiences in the chapel dedicated to Saint John the Baptist – the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield – and in Lichfield Cathedral, both of which I return to constantly.

It was the summer of 1971, and although I was training to be a chartered surveyor with Jones Lang Wootton and the College of Estate Management at Reading University, I was also trying to become a freelance journalist, contributing features to the Lichfield Mercury, the Rugeley Mercury and the Tamworth Herald.

Late one sunny Thursday afternoon, after a few days traipsing along Wenlock Edge and through Shropshire, and staying at Wilderhope Manor and in Shrewsbury, I had returned to Lichfield.

I was walking from Birmingham Road into the centre of Lichfield, and I was more interested in an evening’s entertainment than prayer or religious life when I stumbled into that chapel out of curiosity. Not because I wanted to see the inside of an old church or chapel, but because I was attracted by the architectural curiosity of the outside of the building facing onto the street, with its Tudor chimney stacks and its Gothic chapel.

I still remember lifting the latch, and stepping down into the chapel. It was late in the afternoon, so there was no light streaming through the East Window. But as I turned towards the lectern, I was filled in one rush with the sensation of the light and the love of God.

This is not a normal experience for a young 19-year-old … certainly not for one who is focussing on an active social night later on, or on rugby and cricket in the weekend ahead.

But it was – and still is – a real and gripping moment. I have talked about this as my ‘self-defining moment in life.’ It still remains as a lived, living moment.

At the Patronal Festival Eucharist in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, earlier today (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

My first reaction was to make my way on down John Street, up Bird Street and Beacon Street and into the Cathedral Close and Lichfield Cathedral. There I slipped into the choir stalls, just in time for Choral Evensong.

It was a tranquil and an exhilarating experience, all at once. But as I was leaving, a residentiary canon shook my hand … I think he was Canon John Yates (1925-2008), then the Principal of Lichfield Theological College (1966-1972) and later Bishop of Gloucester and Bishop at Lambeth. He looked at me amusingly and asked whether a young man like me had decided to start going back to church because I was thinking of ordination.

All that in one day, on that one summer afternoon.

The west front of Lichfield Cathedral in the afternoon sunshine earlier today (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

However, I took the scenic route to ordination. I was inspired by the story of Gonville ffrench-Beytagh (1912-1991), which was beginning to unfold at the time. He was then the Dean of Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Johannesburg, and facing trial when he opened his doors to black protesters who were being rhino-whipped by South African apartheid police on the steps of his cathedral.

My new-found adult faith led me to a path of social activism, campaigning on human rights, apartheid, the arms race, and issues of war and peace. I also moved into journalism full-time, first with the Wexford People and eventually becoming Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times.

While I was working as a journalist, I became a student once again, and completed degrees in theology at the Irish School of Ecumenics and Trinity College Dublin in 1984 and at the Kimmage Mission Institute and Maynooth in 1987. In the back of my mind, that startling choice I was confronted with after evensong in Lichfield Cathedral 54 years ago was gnawing away in the back of my mind.

Letters of ordination as priest by Archbishop Walton Empey (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Of course, I was on the scenic route to ordination. A long and scenic route, from the age of 19 to the age of 48 … almost 30 years: I returned to study theology at the Church of Ireland Theological College (CITC, now CITI) in 1999, I was ordained deacon on 25 June 2000 and I was ordained priest a year later on 24 June 2001, the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist.

Since then, my ordained ministry has included two years as an NSM curate in Whitechurch Parish, Rathfarnham (2000-2002), while I continued to work as Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times; four years working with mission agencies and as a part-time lecturer in the Church of Ireland Theological College (2002-2006); 11 years on the staff of CITC and CITI as Director of Spiritual Formation, college chaplain, and then Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History (2006-2017), when I was also an adjunct assistant professor in TCD (2011-2017) and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (2008-2017); and five years in west Limerick and north Kerry in the Diocese of Limerick and Killaloe (now Tuam, Limerick and Killaloe) as priest-in-charge of the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes, Precentor of Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick, Saint Flannan’s Cathedral, Killaloe, Co Clare, and Saint Brendan’s Cathedral, Clonfert, Co Galway, and Director for Education and Training (2017-2022).

That ministry has included school and hospital chaplaincy, membership of the General Synod and various church commissions and committees and school boards, mission agency visits to Egypt, China, Hong Kong, Italy, the Vatican, Romania, Hungary and Finland, and six years as a trustee of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel). There were additional studies at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies and Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, and the Institutum Liturgicum, based at the Benedictine Study and Arts Centre in Ealing Abbey and KU Leuven.

Archbishop Walton Empey’s inscription on the Bible he gave to me on my ordination to the priesthood on 24 June 2001 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I had started coming to Lichfield as a teenager because of family connections with the area around Lichfield and Tamworth. The traditions of the chapel in Saint John’s Chapel subtly grew on me and became my own personal expression of Anglicanism, while and the liturgical traditions of Lichfield Cathedral nurtured my own liturgical spirituality.

That bright summer evening left me open to the world, with all its beauty, all its problems and its promises.

The chapel in Saint John’s Hospital and Lichfield Cathedral remain my twin spiritual homes, and I returned to both again today (24 June 2025), to Saint John’s for the Patronal Festival Eucharist at Noon, and to the Cathedral for Choral Evensong at the end of the day.

Ten years ago, Canon Andrew Gorham, the then Master of Saint John’s Hospital, invited me to preach at the Festal Eucharist in the chapel on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist on 24 June 2015. It was also the anniversary of my ordination. The attendance included the Lord-Lieutenant of Staffordshire, Dr Ian Dudson, the Deputy Mayor of Lichfield, Mrs Sheelagh James, and a former Mayor, Mrs Norma Bacon.

With Canon Andrew Gorham, Master of St John’s Hospital, at the Festal Eucharist in Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, in 2015

As priests, we normally celebrate the anniversary of our ordination to the priesthood and reflect on it sacramentally. However, I still await PTO in a new diocese and I have found unexpected restrictions on celebrating this meaningful day.

This continues to be trying at a personal level, and I held these emotions and feelings in my heart at the mid-day Eucharist in Saint John’s and Evensong in Lichfield Cathedral today, and at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church in Stony Stratford on Sunday (22 June 2025).

Today has been a day for walks around Stowe Pool and Minster Pool, through the streets of Lichfield, along Beacon Street, and a walk out into the countryside along Cross in Hand Lane after a pleasant late lunch in the Hedgehog Vintage Inn at the corner of Stafford Road.

When I get home to Stony Stratford later tonight, I shall have a quiet celebration of the Eucharist. This has been a day to remind myself that I remain a priest forever, and to remind myself where this journey or pilgrimage began 54 years ago, and I was encouraged by Timothy Dudley-Smith’s opening lines of the Post-Communion hymn in Saint John’s today:

Lord, for the years your love has kept and guided,
urged and inspired us, cheered us on our way,
sought us and saved us, pardoned and provided:
Lord for the years, we bring our thanks today.

Saint John the Baptist seen in a statue above the entrance arch at Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

24 June 2024

A day to reflect on
23 years of priesthood
and a journey that began
in Lichfield 53 years ago

The Chapel and the Hospital of Saint John Baptist without the Barrs, Lichfield … recalling a journey that continues 53 years later (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

Today is the Feast of the Birthday of Saint John the Baptist (24 June 2024). I have been back in Lichfield today where, throughout the day, I have been remembering that I was ordained priest 23 years ago on this day, 24 June 2001, and that tomorrow is the anniversary of the day I was ordained deacon 24 years ago (25 June 2000).

I have reflected throughout this day on these 24 years of ordained ministry, giving thanks, praying, reading, thinking, walking and giving thanks.

I was ordained priest 23 years ago today, on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist [24 June 2001], and deacon 24 years ago tomorrow, on 25 June 2000.

With Archbishop Walton Empey at my ordination as priest in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, on 24 June 2001, and (from left) the Revd Tim Close and the Revd Avril Bennett (Photograph: Valerie Jones, 2001)

Bishops, in the charge to priests at their ordination, call us to ‘preach the Word and to minister his (God’s) holy sacraments.’ But the bishop also reminds us to be ‘faithful in visiting the sick, in caring for the poor and needy, and in helping the oppressed,’ to ‘promote unity, peace, and love,’ to share ‘in a common witness in the world’ and ‘in Christ’s work of reconciliation,’ to ‘search for God’s children in the wilderness of this world’s temptations.’

These charges remain a sacred commitment for life, even after a priest retires from parish ministry. I retired from full-time ministry over two ago (31 March 2022) after my stroke that year, and I am still in the process of seeking Permission to Officiate (PTO). But I shall always remain a priest.

As I reflected today on the anniversaries of my ordination, I recalled too how my path to ordination began here in Lichfield 53 years ago when I was a 19-year-old, following very personal and special experiences in the chapel dedicated to Saint John the Baptist – the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield – and in Lichfield Cathedral, both of which I return to constantly.

It was the summer of 1971, and although I was training to be a chartered surveyor with Jones Lang Wootton and the College of Estate Management at Reading University, I was also trying to become a freelance journalist, contributing features to the Lichfield Mercury, the Rugeley Mercury and the Tamworth Herald.

Late one sunny Thursday afternoon, after a few days traipsing along Wenlock Edge and through Shropshire, and staying at Wilderhope Manor and in Shrewsbury, I had returned to Lichfield.

I was walking from Birmingham Road into the centre of Lichfield, and I was more interested in an evening’s entertainment than prayer or religious life when I stumbled into that chapel out of curiosity. Not because I wanted to see the inside of an old church or chapel, but because I was attracted by the architectural curiosity of the outside of the building facing onto the street, with its Tudor chimney stacks and its Gothic chapel.

I still remember lifting the latch, and stepping down into the chapel. It was late in the afternoon, so there was no light streaming through the East Window. But as I turned towards the lectern, I was filled in one rush with the sensation of the light and the love of God.

This is not a normal experience for a young 19-year-old … certainly not for one who is focussing on an active social night later on, or on rugby and cricket in the weekend ahead.

But it was – and still is – a real and gripping moment. I have talked about this as my ‘self-defining moment in life.’ It still remains as a lived, living moment.

Waiting for the mid-day Eucharist in Lichfield Cathedral this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

My first reaction was to make my way on down John Street, up Bird Street and Beacon Street and into the Cathedral Close and Lichfield Cathedral. There I slipped into the choir stalls, just in time for Choral Evensong.

It was a tranquil and an exhilarating experience, all at once. But as I was leaving, a residentiary canon shook my hand … I think he was Canon John Yates (1925-2008), then the Principal of Lichfield Theological College (1966-1972) and later Bishop of Gloucester and Bishop at Lambeth. He amusingly asked me whether a young man like me had decided to start going back to church because I was thinking of ordination.

All that in one day, on that one summer afternoon.

The west front of Lichfield Cathedral this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

However, I took the scenic route to ordination. I was inspired by the story of Gonville ffrench-Beytagh (1912-1991), which was beginning to unfold at the time. He was then the Dean of Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Johannesburg, and facing trial when he opened his doors to black protesters who were being rhino-whipped by South African apartheid police on the steps of his cathedral.

My new-found adult faith led me to a path of social activism, campaigning on human rights, apartheid, the arms race, and issues of war and peace. Meanwhile, I moved on in journalism, first to the Wexford People and eventually becoming Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times.

While I was working as a journalist, I also completed my degrees in theology, at the Irish School of Ecumenics and Trinity College Dublin in 1984 and at the Kimmage Mission Institute and Maynooth in 1987. In the back of my mind, that startling choice I was confronted with after evensong in Lichfield Cathedral 53 years ago was gnawing away in the back of my mind.

Letters of ordination as priest by Archbishop Walton Empey

Of course, I was on the scenic route to ordination. A long and scenic route, from the age of 19 to the age of 48 … almost 30 years: I returned to study theology at the Church of Ireland Theological College (CITC, now CITI) in 1999, I was ordained deacon on 25 June 2000 and I was ordained priest on 24 June 2001, the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist.

Since then, my ordained ministry has included two years as an NSM curate in Whitechurch Parish, Rathfarnham (2000-2002), while I continued to work as Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times; four years working with mission agencies and as a part-time lecturer in the Church of Ireland Theological College (2002-2006); 11 years on the staff of the Church of Ireland Theological College or Institute as Director of Spiritual Formation, college chaplain, and then Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy, Church History (2006-2017), when I was also an adjunct assistant professor in Trinity College Dublin (2011-2017) and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (2008-2017); and five years in west Limerick and north Kerry in the Diocese of Limerick and Killaloe (now Tuam, Limerick and Killaloe) as priest-in-charge of the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes, Precentor of Saint Mary's Cathedral, Limerick, Saint Flannan’s Cathedral, Killaloe, Co Clare and Saint Brendan’s Cathedral, Clonfert, Co Galway, and Director for Education and Training (2017-2022).

That ministry also included school and hospital chaplaincy, membership of the General Synod and various church commissions and committees, mission agency visits to Egypt, China, Hong Kong, Italy, the Vatican, Romania, Hungary and Finland, and six years as a trustee of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel). There were additional studies at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies and Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, and the Institutum Liturgicum, based at the Benedictine Study and Arts Centre in Ealing Abbey and KU Leuven.

Archbishop Walton Empey’s inscription on the Bible he gave to me on my ordination to the priesthood in 2001

I had started coming to Lichfield as a teenager because of family connections with the area around Lichfield and Tamworth. The traditions of the chapel in Saint John's Chapel subtly grew on me and became my own personal expression of Anglicanism, while and the liturgical traditions of Lichfield Cathedral nurtured my own liturgical spirituality.

That bright summer evening left me open to the world, with all its beauty, all its problems and its promises.

The chapel in Saint John’s Hospital and Lichfield Cathedral remain my twin spiritual homes, and I returned to both again today (24 June 2024).

As priests, we normally celebrate the anniversary of our ordination to the priesthood and reflect on it sacramentally. However, I still await PTO in a new diocese and I have found unexpected restrictions on celebrating this meaningful day.

This continues to be trying at a personal level, and I held these emotions and feelings in my heart at the mid-day Eucharist and Evening Prayer in Lichfield Cathedral today, as I knelt in prayer in the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital earlier in the day, and at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church in Stony Stratford yesterday (23 June 2024).

I remembered too how I was in Holy Trinity Church, Old Wolverton, on this day last year (24 June 2023) when the Revd Francesca Vernon celebrated her first Mass following her ordination.

It has been a day for walks around Stowe Pool and Minster Pool, through the streets of Lichfield, along Beacon Street, and a walk out into the countryside along Cross in Hand Lane after a pleasant late lunch in the Hedgehog Vintage Inn at the corner of Stafford Road.

When I get home to Stony Stratford later this evening, I shall have a quiet celebration of the Eucharist. This has been a day to remind myself that I remain a priest forever, and to remind myself where this journey or pilgrimage began 53 years ago.

Saint John the Baptist depicted in a window in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)