Singers Workshop with Luke Wallace. followed by Concert. 18th March

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The Reverend Densham

When Densham arrived in 1931 at Warleggan he found only 168 parishioners, all Cornish men born and bred, distrustful of strangers and unwilling to accept change.

His immediate predecessor had celebrated Mass, but Densham reverted to Holy Communion and had strong Methodist sympathies. He wanted to replace the organ with a piano, more suitable for children’s services, however the P.C.C. was outraged as it had been bought by public subscription and was a war memorial.

Densham held strong views about smoking and drinking and opposed any gambling even the church raffles. There were no more genial Sunday teas on the church lawn beneath the big trees.

EXTERNAL WALLS

PICTURE OF DENSHAM

Vegetarian

Densham became a vegetarian, a concept very alien in a remote farming community.

He objected to many popular church events and the rook or pigeon shoot became no more,
alongside other social activities.

Discontent

In a village of close-knit families, discontent spread quickly. People asked the Bishop of Truro to remove Densham, but the bishop was powerless for, under the Church of England Constitution, the rector had committed no crime and was conducting his services acceptably. Stuck with their rector, the flock refused to go to church and drifted off to other churches.

Barbed Wire Fence

He erected a barbed wire fence around his house to prevent his dogs worrying farmers’sheep, but this barricade did little to make visitors feel welcome. He once painted the church in a medieval riot of colour, much to the annoyance of parishioners, and he was subsequently required to return the church to its original colour;  and there was many a time that he preached to an empty church  – indeed, he was meticulous recording the attendance (or lack of it) in the register, on one occasion writing “No fog, no wind, no rain, no congregation”.

"They all come to me in the end"

But even though his parishioners stopped coming to church, nonetheless, each Sunday for two decades, Densham robed himself and preached twice weekly, well-prepared services to the bare 13th century walls. He sang the hymns himself and composed his sermons with care. He would place small cards inscribed with the names of prior vicars in the first six empty pews and so preached. The only time people attended the church were for weddings and funerals. “They all come to me in the end” he said. “They won’t come to church on their feet, but they come in their black carriages.”

Fondly Remembered

On the other hand, he is fondly remembered by many parishioners as a kind and generous man who would bring rhododendron and camellias in spring to villagers and would send milk to people who were ill.  He built a playground for children and held slide shows. He was friendly with the Methodists in the community.

Ahead of his times

Densham was, first and foremost, a Man of God.  In many ways, he was ahead of his times. He would often be seen preaching at the Methodist chapel, this at a time when there was little tolerance between church and chapel, especially in a conservative community such as Warleggan back in those days.  His father had been a Methodist preacher, and it is not known why he had become ordained into the Church of England.

Rectory

Well-educated and quite well-travelled, Densham was unmarried and lived alone in the Rectory next to the Church. He painted the rectory in garish red, orange, primrose, yellow and blue. He went on to name rooms within the Rectory after Biblical places.

Oil Drum

As the years passed, Densham grew more eccentric, he became crippled by arthritis and
became more reclusive. He insisted on four days’ notice from anyone intending to visit;
those unable to make such an appointment had to bang on an oil drum at the end of the
garden path until Densham appeared.

Densham's Legacy

One January morning in 1953, locals noticed that for several days there had been no chimney smoke and no sightings of Densham. Investigation revealed that Rev. Densham had died partway up the stairs several days previously.  He was 83 years old. His funeral service was attended by no one except his solicitor and unlike several of his predecessors, he was not buried in the Warleggan churchyard; nor were his ashes scattered on his own Garden of Remembrance in Warleggan as he had requested but in a Plymouth cemetery. His brother donated money in Densham’s memory and the bishop, perhaps mindful of the dangers of isolation in remote parishes, decided to use it to buy cars for rural clergy.