Solace in a Church

Solace in a Church

I have always been attracted to churches, their strength in stone and brick, their dominance in steeple and tower, their glorious stained glass, the shared joy of a congregation erupting from a service. It is only in later years that I have realised their real purpose. Churches, and indeed all devotional assemblies around the world and throughout history, attempt to reassure mortals that there is life after death. After all, there is nothing more troubling for human beings than the mystery of death, its inevitability, its finality.

Imagine the hardships and hazards facing early white settlers in and around Rylstone two centuries ago. In the 1820s came the first squatters with their shepherds, leading flocks of cattle and sheep over the mountains towards pasture. Despite the dangers of the bush, including from Aborigines they were displacing and bushrangers who’d escaped their masters, men claimed acreage along the Cudgegong River, felled timber, built crude structures for protection and storage, and grew crops. Bishop William Grant Broughton, first and only Anglican Bishop of Australia, sensing their need for spiritual guidance, began his irregular tours out west (seven between 1836 and 1852). He held services ‘under the canopy of Heaven’, prayed with solitary shepherds sitting on logs, and at night enjoyed the comfort of a local squatter’s household. A bush village began to emerge with store and smithy and pub and by 1843 Surveyor Davidson had completed his plan for the village of Rylstone. 

In the 1850s Reverend James Gunther travelled from Mudgee to hold monthly services in a woolshed near Rylstone and later a slab school room. By then churches had sprung up in Sydney and now they were wanted in the bush, hopefully with the help of the Church Society. Subscription lists appeared in newspapers, a sure-fire way to increase donations. In May 1857 the Sydney Morning Herald reported on the laying of the first stone of St James at Rylstone. Beloved minister Gunther performed the ceremony on a site with a commanding and pleasing view of village and countryside, in the presence of about one hundred people, among whom were Messrs Walton, Tailby and several Coxes. A bottle containing coins and ‘a record of the proceedings’ were placed beneath the stone, after which psalms were sung and prayers offered in thanksgiving. 

The year St James was completed, 1858, was one of the darkest in its history. Samuel Highfield, stonemason and builder of the church, was completing the plastering of the ceiling when he toppled off the scaffolding and pitched head-first to the floor, to his instant death. This young man of 34, left a widow Sarah, a one-year-old Charlotte and a son soon-to-be-born, George. Next morning Mrs Walton, a 38 year old woman, highly respected, strong and generous, set out on horseback to break the news to his wife and family at Rango ten miles up-river. Near the corner of Tindale’s paddock, only half a mile from the village, her horse unexpectedly reared, dislodging her and causing instant death. As the paper reported, ‘Soon both our well-remembered neighbours were lying corpses in the same house.’ Next morning John Walton, transporting his wife’s body to the family grave at Hartley, was followed through the town by the whole community. And in the afternoon they were there again, brushing up against each other in a mournful procession carrying Samuel Highfield to the Wesleyan burial ground. 

Mary Walton was the type of woman who might have earned her place in a stained glass window in St James’ Church, of which there are eleven. But those windows weren’t installed for at least six decades. In the meantime the Church was completed, perhaps by Purvis, who seems to have got his name recorded in local history as the actual builder. It was six years (25/10/1864) before Bishop Frederick Barker of Sydney consecrated the Church of St James, delayed it is said, because of that double tragedy. 

I began to regret a search of Wikipedia and Google to find out about St James. I am assured the church is dedicated to St James the Great not St James the Less. That settled that question. However modern scholars are decidedly undecided about the two James’ identity, for example which one was the cousin (or brother?) of Jesus? Who was his father? I’m sticking with this: James and his brother John, cousins of Jesus, were favourite Apostles. James was the second apostle to die (Judas being the first); and the first to be martyred aged 48, in AD 44, beheaded by Herod. He is the patron saint of Spain and pilgrims, and now the patron saint of this Rylstone church. 

A church needs a minister. After many subscription lists were raised to pay for the support of a resident clergyman, Reverend James Ross was appointed in 1865. However ‘resident’ hardly seems apt since he ministered to Meroo, Hargraves, Green Swamp, Guntawang and Cudgegong, as well as Rylstone. Before he accepted the incumbency of Mulgoa in September 1868, Ross fast-tracked a porch and vestry and laid a foundation stone for a tower. However I found no evidence of the dates of construction. The bell, having been suspended from a tree for years, was installed in the tower in 1905. The transept was built in 1870 (thus forming the church into a cross); and the parsonage in 1876 by Robert Thompson Highfield, son of William Highfield. It was a church complete, its dimensions 42 feet east to west and 24 feet north to south. 

An attractive addition and renovation should be mentioned. To celebrate the centenary of the church in 1964, a freestanding altar of white Italian marble on a white marble floor was erected, the same marble used by Michelangelo, from Carrara. Walls, floors and ceilings were refurbished, an electric organ installed, electric lighting improved and the Warriors’ Chapel created. New wooden pews replaced the original dark cedar pews with their pew names. That’s right! Our Anglican pioneers paid an annual fee to rent their own pews, just as they did in England and America. The system stopped by the end of World War 1 on the grounds it was elitist and undemocratic, but also because some families were a little tardy in paying the rent. I like that my great grandfather William Lee Brown and his brother Archibald Arthur each had a pew. Mmmmm.

Around the turn of the century those two Browns and their families were well-involved in the St James’ community. The church was thriving socially. Floral fetes, market days, concerts, bazaars, socials, and balls raised money and fostered fellowship. Its liturgical life included harvest festivals, inductions, annual confirmations, an ordination and a mission, therefore regular visits from the Bishop of Bathurst. 

It is only since visiting the church on the weekend of the Kandos Gardens Fair that I realise what a significant building it is. How to describe St James? My first impressions as I circled it, was of a durable, sturdy, simple, though interesting, structure. It is not imposing or majestic (although the accompanying photo seems to challenge my impression). Rather it is well-grounded and dependable, reflecting the small rural community it serves. The Wow factor is inside the church. There is majesty in that crisp white altar on marble floor; inspiration in the Light of the World stained glass window behind it. Reassurance too: Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness. 

St James Church has given sustenance and comfort to a community of rural Anglicans for a century and a half. It holds their history, and therefore a significant part of Rylstone history: in the registers that list baptisms, confirmations, marriages and funerals; in memorial plaques attached to the precious stained-glass windows and religious objects; in the photographic display and honour board showing serving ministers over the past century and a half; in the visual heritage report of the old timber slab school, still standing in the grounds of the church thanks in part to heritage adviser Barbara Hickson; in its architectural history. This church deserves to be seen. 

When my friend Rose sent me the brochure of the Stained Glass Windows of St James, one of which is dedicated to a war hero relative, I began to imagine a blog about a church, a stained glass window and a letter. I got trapped in the church, so I will continue that story next month.

The pew list in 1908 as recorded in Bill Staff’s book A History of Rylstone

G Howe 2, W L Brown 4, Thos Yabsley 6, A A Brown 8, M Hayward 10, J W Farrar 12, Cox Bros 14, O Smith 16, Rectory 1, John Lloyd 3, S G Benson 5, J Fletcher 1, Jackson 7, Dr Hansard, A Morrison 9, F J Dunn 11, H Dalton, J G Elgar 13, A Dunn 15

The striking image of St James Church was taken from the internet. It was photographed by Bob Adjemian whom I have not been able to contact.