MEMORIES OF BISHOP CHARLES ROBERT CLAXTON, edited by his grandson Simon Christopher Tillotson - March 1996

 

My grandfather, Charles Claxton, was known to me in the intimate way most grandchildren know their grandparents. However, that knowledge is not always very coherent or precise. We know our grandparents personalities, their mannerisms, their sense of humour, their oddities, their habits and pastimes, their hobbies and amusements. Yet we rarely know their past lives in any great depth.

 

It has therefore been a very great pleasure and indeed honour for me to put together this collection of memories from a range of people from all over the country. I now know my grandfather much better (I know he is alive up there), even though I have not seen him for four years or so. I can sense how great his commitment to the church was, a "baton" he has passed on to me (I heard about my acceptance for ordination on the very day that grandpa died). I am genuinely amazed by the energy he displayed throughout his life, and wonder at his lively sense of humour, his caring attitude to friends and colleagues, and his overal joie de vivre. This will all become evident to you as you read the following accounts.

 

I do hope you will enjoy all of them. If your article is included in this and contains spelling mistakes then I must apologise - my computer spell-checker is not absolutely perfect! If you sent in an article about Charles and it does not appear here then many apologies to you. Something has gone wrong somewhere and the article has been mislaid. Nontheless, I am sure you will find this a deeply fulfilling read.

 

My grandfather lived out his faith and life to the full. Perhaps his favourite Bible passage was 1 Cornthians 13 and I want to begin by quoting this, for it sums up Bishop Charles in a way that nothing else in this book can:

 

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels but have no love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But when there are prophecies they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophecise in part, but when perfection comes the imperfect disappears. When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I become a man I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain; faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

 

There are truly some wonderful memories. To begin with it would be wise to get an understanding of the chronology of Bishop Charles' life, so here are two obituaries from the national and local press that came out shortly after Charles' death.

 

 

From a local Lancashire paper, the Evening Telegraph, dated 10.3.92.

 

 

"Bishop With a Love of Life"

 

   Church leaders have been paying tribute to a former Bishop of Blackburn who died at the weekend at his home in Cheshire. Dr Charles Robert Claxton, who was 88, became Bishop in 1960 and retired 11 years later. Before taking his post in Blackburn he had been Suffragan Bishop of Warrington for 14 years. He succeeded Dr PW H Baddeley to become the fourth Bishop of Blackburn.

 

   The Bishop graduated from Queen's College Cambridge in 1926, and was ordained the following year at Chelmsford Cathedral to the curacy of Stratford, Essex. After two years he went on to become curate of Holy Trinity, Bristol. In 1933 he was appointed vicar at Holy Trinity where he remained for five years. Between 1938 and 1946 he was honorary chaplain to the Bishop of Bristol. His other appointments were: honorary chaplain to the Bishop of Rochester, public preacher in Rochester diocese and Home Secretary of the Missionary Council of the Church Assembly; curate of St Martin-in-the-Fields, London, and rector of West Derby, London.

 

   After retiring, Dr Claxton and his wife Jane retired to Budleigh Salterton in Devon. They later returned to the North West to live in Prestbury, Cheshire. The couple had four children and 14 grandchildren and celebrated their Diamond Anniversary nearly two years ago. Dr Claxton was well-known in the area as he was a great believer in meeting people. He opened the newly-built Rovers Return pub on Shadsworth estate in Blackburn in the mid 1960's and even took part in a high-kicking line-up with the Bluebell Girls who were there to lend a little glamour.

 

   In 1968 the pipe-smoking Bishop told the Evening Telegraph: "The church ought to be meeting people in their pubs and their clubs and down at the Rovers on the terraces. This is where the people are." And he believed that the Cathedral should be opened up for more public use. "I think it is ridiculous these huge buildings only be used for divine worship," he said. "They should be used for concerts and talks - and even parties."

 

   The Bishop, a strong opponent of capital punishment, was also a union man and joined the General Municipal Workers Union in 1962. Archdeacon of Blackburn, David Robinson, said: "He was a very outgoing person who met and mixed with all manner of people, including stars of the day. He was not a "Churchy" Bishop and was always keen to be someone who showed himself as a symbol of the church in all parts of life."

 

   Dr Claxton asked not to be called "My Lord", the official address, as he thought it put him on a "different plane". "He very much enjoyed life," the Archdeacon added. "I  have memories of the service and party he used to hold for clergy and their families and I remember him dancing down the aisle of the Cathedral with children in each hand - in cloak and mitre! He had tremendous energy and believed in meeting people a great deal, and he was a very good listener. The 60's were a period of change and the Bishop adapted to change well." The Provost of Blackburn Cathedral, Lawrence Jackson, said, "He was a very extrovert chap and a very good preacher, red-faced and cheery. He was also a prime mover in industrial missions where he would go into industries, meet with management and workers and give advice."

 

 

From The Times, written by Alan Webster.

 

 

   Charles Claxton, former Bishop of Blackburn, was an old-style Church of England pastor. Warm-hearted and hard-working, he was one of the remaining links with the robust establishment of the age of Archbishop Fisher. To get Charlie Claxton to a pub on the outskirts of Blackburn revealed the extraordinary number of his acquaintances and friends. Through the smoky haze, over a pint of beer, he argued for traditional values with such an avuncular approach that British and church problem.(!Simon***-this doesn't make sense**!!)

 

   Born in 1903, he was educated at Monkton Combe, Weymouth College, Queens' College, Cambridge, and Ridley Hall, each with distinct but tolerant Evangelical influences, leaving him uninterested in ecclesiastical parties or "churchy" questions. After a curacy in the East End, a chaplaincy in wartime Bristol, the Missionary Council of the Church Assembly (with a curacy at St Martin-in-the-Fields, where his preaching was much valued), he spent 14 years as Suffragan Bishop of Warrington, becoming Bishop of Blacburn in 1960.

 

   In addition to his diocese, he devoted himself as Chairman of the Church of England Board of Education, to church colleges and church schools throughout the country, visiting all church teacher training colleges and supporting their staff. They found him to be no theoretician but willing to encourage new ideas among educationalists. The founding of St Martin's College, in Lancaster, for 1500 teachers in training was, as he used to say with shining face, the jewel in the crown.

 

   Claxton had cunning devices to prod Lancashire Christianity out of any tendency to stodginess. "What this diocese needs is a good grouse-in" he would exclaim while arranging for a diocesan complaints session, thus revealing an unexpectedly modern approach to management and a willingness to be vulnerable despite his bluff exterior. He led a March of Men to the cathedral, marshalling somewhat startled accountants, MP's, headmasters and church wardens, getting them to the church on time, and in his sermon guiding them through thickets of difficulties about mission and worship. His flock enjoyed his presence, even if he over-worked, gave under-shepherds a job to do and then did it himself, and perhaps spread his activities too widely.

 

   In retirement Claxton remained sanguine and energetic, volunteering as an assistant Chaplain to the Navy and preaching a fine sermon for the Friends of the Blackburn Cathedral at the age of 86. He is remembered in Lancashire with affection respect.

 

 

Such obituaries bring a strong sense of pride to me, one of Charles' grandsons. Let us then begin with some reflections by some of the members of the close family. This first very evocative reflection is by Simon, son to Charles.

 

 

   MEMORIES :-

 

   Childhood

 

-Poppa's voice booming from the chancel unlike any other priest's, thus enlivening the small boy's tedium, even though I couldn't see him over the pew.

- Strange foreign visitors of all colours, but wearing poppa's purple uniform, sitting having tea with the best English manners in our drawing room, especially during something called "Lambeth".

-Poppa exasperated that he couldn't persuade me to be a willing gardener/weeder of his precious garden.

-Poppa creeping into my bedroom with a large box containing a train set at 10 o'clock on Christmas Eve when he thought I was asleep.

-Poppa solemnly going over my school report in his study, sometimes making uncharacteristic threats.

-Poppa the First Aid expert.

-Poppa the story-teller always. Family meals are everything with his comic magnetism and not so memorable when he is out, which is far too often.

-Treats eg. being taken out by Poppa on the Ormskirk to Liverpool "Electric Railway"     

with lunch grandly at "The Pig Trough", and probably a film in Liverpool.

-Going to services in the awe-inspiring Liverpool Cathedral with armies of slow-pacing choristers in dirty white surplices and red and yellow cassocks. Poppa sometimes in procession. Marvellous Christmas carols, though curiously jerky.

- New Year's Day: a family treat. By car to the Lakes. Slow progress on crowded roads. Poppa impatiently overtaking and taking no notice of Mama. "No... no..Darling!...DARLING! DARLING!" (By now we are past and safe again). Lunch at the Wild Boar - roaring fire - lovely meal - sometimes a walk, and then, best of all "Pictures and Fish and Chips at Morecombe on the way home".

- Treat with Poppa; once going to see two films in Southport on the same day; one was "The Battle of the River Plate".

- Christmas Eve in Southport: Coffee at Thoms'Coffee House.

-Cornwall: Family Holidays. Using peculiar Rectories. Beach days at Holywell at the end of an interminable walk carrying clobber. Poppa in long shorts goes off to collect prawns and muscles for solitary hours, a lonely dot at low tide, and then in the surf in his beige trunks, his head right down on the board, offering an example eagerly followed by his children. An eager surfer even into his white-haired-years.

-Preacing at School: "Keeping a straight bat" or "Pulling a straight oar" as school sporting images to introduce his message.

-Prayers at Breakfast: Corinthians 13 on Mondays. Prayers for all of us by name as needed, home or away, with the day's concerns, culminating (at top speed" "And-we-pray-that-the grace-of-our-Lord-Jesus-Christ."and then "Well now..you go and help with the washing up, and I'll" and away he goes.

-Television. Always keen to see football; (Occasional visits to sit in the Blackburn Rovers Director's Box. How delighted he has been up there in heaven to see Blackburn winning the League recently..Influence in high places I reckon!) Delighted chuckling at the new phenomenon of The Beatles.

-Personal Prayers: Always -- shut away in his chapel , at length..with the special stained glass window at Blackburn and Budleigh, featuring St Martin, his favourite Saint.

- Reading: Always loving his thriller but always reading a "holy book " too. In later life a devotee of public libraries whose books were ordered via newspaper reviews. One of my last Christmas presents to him was a biography of Archbishop Tutu which he enjoyed in his last spring.

-Tables: Always fussy about full table settings, including side plates and "serviettes"

 

 

Here is another reflection, this time by Charles's daughter Audrey:

 

 

   "My Dad Charles was a great traveller both at home and abroad. At home, as a boy he always admired trains and rail travel. He used trains extensively during his busy life and found wearing a dog-collar usually prevented overcrowding in his selected compartment. In retirement he was thrilled with the 125 from Exeter which gave him quick access to London and specially delighted with his annual free bonus pensioner trip. Another treat was the excursion on the Settle-Carlisle train over the tops through so much rugged open country. His knowledge of the intricacies of Railway timetables was phenomenal.

 

   Dad enjoyed his various cars and driving was always a challenge. Loiterers could not be tolerated - time was precious and he had enormous capacity to pack the utmost into each day. World War 2 brought difficult days in Bristol with the family evacuated to avoid the Blitz. Travel by train to Burnham-on-Sea was not easy but eagerly appreciated by us all.

 

   In 1943 a new job was accepted in London as Home Secretary of the Missionary Council of the Church Assembly and he was responsible for keeping church leaders in Britain informed about the state of missionary work overseas. This experience probably inspired his resolve to travel overseas. In 1946 he became Suffragan Bishop of Warrington and life in the North of England was a totally new experience but the wonderful people in Liverpool took to his warmth and compassion and made him and all the family welcome.

 

   The Lambeth Conference of 1948 provided unique oppurtunities to meet brother Bishops from all over the World, friendships were established and invitations issued. In 1957 I was working in New Zealand. Dad discovered he could work his passage to NZ as the C of E Chaplain on the famous migrant ship "Captain Cook". The ship was filled to capacity with 1048 hopeful and enthusiastic courageous people of all ages, looking for a better life for themselves and their families. It was an interesting voyage. Chaplain's duties were shared between RC, Free church and C of E. The trio shared a cabin - theological discussions and knowing Da, jokes and stories as well. Dad's pastoral care and concern for all his fellow travellers was greatly appreciated as he brought joy and inspiration to all he met on the ship.

 

   Dad and I flew to the South Island and travelled by bus to the wonderful mountains of the Southern Alps. The bus caused a flurry of excitement. Noting it was a Leyland, he had no hesitation telling the driver, he too came from Warrington. At Christchurch a warm welcome came from a dear friend the Dean, Martin Sullivan and Drois. Theirs was a busy household, notably filled to capacity every Sunday evening after Evensong with young people enjoying fellowship, laughter and coffee. At Dunedin a special visit was made to the tiny town of Warrington to bring loving greetings from that other Warrington.

 

   Dad really loved New Zealand, the friendly warmth of its people and some of the most spectacular scenery in the world. Dad returned with my mother to NZ in 11972 to visit Simon and Rosie staying in Christchurch where Simon was on Teacher's exchange. In 1960 Dad became Diocesan Bishop of Blackburn. The Diocese established a link with the Blomfontein Diocese in Africa. Naturally it was important to visit that country with my Mother to convey Blackburn's greetings, prayers and support. They enjoyed their African visits and experienced the enthusiasm of the Anglican Church there.

 

   In 1966 my husband Hugh and I and three small children moved to Western Australia. This provided Dad with another travel opportunity, and another baby requiring Grandpa to baptise him was the excuse he needed to try Australia. During this visit in 1969 he was invited to the largest parish in Western Australia. A new Rector was to be inducted to this vast parish. Dad was driven at great speed through the red dust to repeat the ceremony at various centres situated hundreds of miles apart. Bush hospitality is legendary and he was overwhelmed with kindness. Dodging kangaroos on the roads was exciting, they were often confused by approaching traffic using a right of way with disastrous results.

 

   Through the Bishop of Bunbury a parish was generally available including use of a car. He and my Mother really enjoyed meeting West Australians and they in turn were surprised to find such an approachable and informal Bishop. At the mining town of Collie where they spent three months including a hot Christmas, he was often found at the local Miner's club enjoying a pint with the locals and was always welcomed at the Old People's Home. There were five visits to W.A. and only the last in 1986 was pure holiday. He visited our farm in the fruit growing area of Donnybrook, home to Granny Smith apples and we travelled to all the favourite spots, to the sea and his beloved Canal Rocks that reminded him of Cornwall. The Australian way of life suited him and he certainly brought joy to many people.

 

   Travel to America must not be forgotten. He was there in 1963, to New York and San Francisco. On to Canada and the Rockies which totally enthralled him. Lake Louise too. His love of travel never waned and his final trip was a cruise to the Greek Islands when he was 84 with his kind minder, the Vicar of Gasworth.

 

   Dad lived life with great enthusiasm, was so interested in all people wherever they came from, touching them with his warmth and compassion he made everyone welcome. His enjoyment of travel, preaching his way round the World, did much to promote the Church overseas. Jesus Christ's charge was "to Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all Creation." Mark 16 v15. AND DAD DID IT! We miss Dad so much but memories are precious and inspire us to keep travelling along.

 

 

In Audrey's article she mentioned the trip to New Zealand. A newspaper article commented on his trip in these words :

 

 

BRITISH IMMIGRANT OF HIGH STANDARD

 

   New Zealand should count itself fortunate in the type of immigrant it is getting from Britain. They are of a very high standard. This is the opinion of the Bishop of Warrington (the Rt Rev Charles Claxton) who is visiting Christchurch for a few days in the course of a holiday tour of New Zealand.

 

   "I came out to New Zealand in the Captain Cook" said Bishop Claxton, "and I'd give top marks to your Immigration Department for the way they looked after the people coming out here. I told them they were spoilt."

 

   He crossed his legs and puffed contentedly at his pipe.

 

   "I believe no one works in this country on Saturday" he said genially, "So I'm off duty too." He was dressed as informally as any layman, in grey suit, coloured shirt and tie. "Comfort at any price", he smiled.

 

   A religious tide is coming in in Britain, continued the Bishop. Church life, particularly in Lancashire, was definitely strengthening. The number of adult candidates was increasing rapidly and that was always a good sign. The emphasis in the new rising tide was on the family service, with whole families coming to church.

 

 

Charles wrote many letters to one of his grand-daughters, Annabel, in the time leading up to her confirmation. Here is one of them:

 

 

Dear Annabel,

      I am glad to know that you are thinking about Confirmation and it is right to give it serious thought as Confirmation is a very important act in your life for which you need some guidance and help. Therefore I think it may help if I write you a few letters to try to explain the meaning of Confirmation. You will understand that I can write with some assurance and understanding as during the past 38 years I have confirmed thousands of boys and girls and adults and of course during my ministry of 57 years I have prepared many for Confirmation. I was confirmed myself of 25 March 1919 (you can work out for yourself how many years ago) and every year on that date I go to Church and thank God for my Confirmation and all that God has done for me.

 

   There are two ways of explaining the word Confirm -

 

   (1) "In present day use it means to "Ratify" - if you know what that words means. For example if I proposed to buy a car or a house on the telephone or in a conversation I would be asked to confirm (or ratify) my proposal in writing. Now, Annabel, when you were a baby, you were baptised in the parish church - I remember baptising you at Radley. Your godparents and parents were then told to "take care that this child be brought to the Bishop to be confirmed by him" when you were further instructed in the Christian Faith. Your godparents made certain promises on your behalf until you came of age to make the promises for yourself (ie in Confirmation). They promised three things - "That I should renounce the devil and all his works; that I should believe all the articles of the Christian Faith; that I should keep God's Holy will and commandments and walk in the same all the days of my life." That is what your God-parents promised on your behalf - promises that you are now asked to take yourself. Nowadays the promises are simpler as the New Prayer Book (The Alternative Service Book) Has this form of words - "Those who bring children to be baptised must affirm their allegiance to Christ, their rejection of all that is evil. It is your duty to bring up this child to fight against evil and to follow Christ. " "Therefore I ask you these questions which you must answer for yourselves and for this child -

 

Q: Do you turn to Christ?       A: I turn to Christ

Q: Do you repent of your sins?  A: I repent of my sins

Q: Do you renounce evil?         A: I renounce evil.

In confirmation you are asked to "Confirm" these promises. This is the first meaning of the word "confirm" ie to acknowledge, to accept for yourself the Christian faith expressed in allegiance to Jesus Christ.

 

   (2) The word "Confirm" also has a deeper meaning; it comes from two Latin words - "confirmere" = to strengthen, to make strong. I often think of "ferro-concrete" ie concrete which is strong in itself and reinforced by iron bars, You will notice that we talk about Confirmation in the passive voice - you want to be confirmed; I have been confirmed. Therefore it is not so much what you do but what God does for you. In Confirmation God gives Himself to you through His Holy Spirit whom Jesus called the Comforter - the one who makes us strong - the one who is called to our help. We will think later about the Holy Spirit in more detail but I want to make the important point before I close this first letter.

 

   There are two points to your Confirmation (1) What you do; (2) What God does for you. The second is the more important but it depends upon the first. Confirmation is a great opportunity and a precious gift which should not be missed. It is the fulfillment of a promise made by Jesus to His disciples and to us. "I will not leave you Comfortless" (the word means literally "as orphans". "I will pray the Father that He will give you another Comforter to be with you forever." Here is a great oppurtunity for you, Annabel. God wants to enter into your life through His Holy Spirit but you have to be ready and willing to receive Him. "None can guess the grace/Till He becomes the place/ Wherein the Holy Spirit makes His dwelling."

 

                                   With my love and my prayers, Grandpa Charles.

 

   A Prayer for your use: O Thou who art the LIght of the minds who know Thee; the Joy of the hearts that love Thee; the Strength of the wills that serve Thee; Help me/us so to know Thee, that I/we may truly love Thee, so to love Thee that I/we may freely serve Thee, whom to service is perfect freedom. Amen.

 

 

Here now are a collection of other memories from friends, relatives and other admirers.

 

From Marjorie Mollineaux (nee Simms):

 

 

   "When I was in my mid-twenties I was asked to represent the Congregational Church on a Youth Committee of the Bristol Council of Churches. There were also representatives from the Anglican, Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian Churches. I cannot remember whether the Roman Catholic Church was there. We met to pray and to discuss what action we might take together, and the Chairman of our group was Charles Claxton.

 

   My strongest memory of this group is that as we met together - under the chairmanship of Charles - to plan and carry out the "week", we experienced a growing together in prayer. At one meeting during 1941 I heard him speak about the need for people to train as Youth Leaders. At the time I was working as a secretary. Although I was very happy in my job I felt there might be something else I could do which would be of more help in the community. What Charles had said led me to make enquiries and by the time the Religion and Life Week took place I had been accepted for a short war-time course at the Birmingham Settlement.

 

   In the autumn of 1942 I started work as a Girls Club Leader at Knowle West - one of the early Housing Estates in Bristol. While there I started to attend a local Anglican Mission Church where I first met John, a member of the staff, who eventually became my husband. So it could be said that through Charles Claxton's influence the course of my life changed direction.

 

 

The next two are from people who knew Charles for many years and so are a good introduction to gaining a clearer understanding into Charles's life. The first is from Bishop David Say, former Bishop of Rochester and a lifelong friend of Charles.

 

 

   "Charles Claxton was a friend for nearly 50 years. From 1943-46 we were both on the staff of St Martin-in-the-Fields, Trafalgar Square, as what Eric Loveday, the Vicar, used to call "spare wheels". They were exciting days at St Martin's. Fire watching was a regular duty and the crypt was an air-raid shelter which had to be emptied when the "All Clear" was sounded. Not all those who had settled down comfortably were ready to do so! One man removed his wooden leg - which did not help!

 

   In the war and immediate post-war years there was a large congregation twice every Sunday. There were 2000 people in church whether the preacher was the junior curate or the Archbishop. On VE day we had a service of thanksgiving every hour of the day from 8am to 10pm and immense crowds came. Charles thought some of the clergy were a bit too serious and highly organised so in his own inimitable way he tried to make them relax and laugh! He also insisted that people should be told things personally and not be sent curt notes.

 

   In 1946 Charles was consecrated a Bishop in Liverpool Cathedral at a service which gave great scope to the very imaginative and colourful Dean, Dr Dudley. It was Assize Sunday as well and so the Judges were present. I, along with other of Charles' closest friends, played a part as a "Witness to the Power of the Resurrection" and we were called upon to shout out "Christ is Risen".

 

   Twenty-five years later Charles arranged a reunion dinner at the House of Lords for those who had been at his consecration in 1946. The Judge of Assize that year was a Lord of Appeal in 1971 and I was a Diocesan Bishop, both of us, like Charles, members of the House of Lords.

 

 

The second is a reflection by another good friend, Canon H Senar:

 

 

   These are the reflections of one whose association with the Bishop stretched from 1944 to 1992 with a gap between 1956 and 1982.

 

   He was consecrated Bishop in Liverpool Cathedral on 7th April 1946. I think that was the first occasion when the consecration of the Suffragan Bishop took place in the great Cathedral. This was to be one of the many memorable services to be held in which he was to be involved.

 

   The city of Liverpool and the industrial areas of the Diocese were still reeling after the war. Bishop Albert Augustus David had reached retirement after 21 strenuous years, having been one of the ex-Headmaster Bishops of the early years of the century. Bishop Herbert Gresford Jones likewise had retired after being Bishop of Kampala, Uganda and then from 1927 to 1946 as Suffragan Bishop of Warrington. They had been a formidable partnership in peace and war.

 

   Bishop Claxton was but 42 years old, but he came to Liverpool with considerable background. His preparation for the episcopacy was noted. He had been Chaplain to two bishops..Bristol and Rochester. The partnership of Bishops Martin and Claxton was to be a vigorous forward-looking leadership when stability and steadfastness especially in pastoral care would soon be recognised with admiration and appreciation by clergy and laity.

 

   Wigan: Bishop Claxton's first visit to the parish church and Deanery of Wigan was memorable. The National Bluecoat School was filled to capacity to meet him. Fears that the new Bishop was too young and not a northerner disappeared as the Wigan people, clergy and laity alike, recognised that his impressive stature, fresh complexion and obvious good health conveyed a warmth and friendliness with whose ministry they wished to be associated. Wigan folk at that time distrusted reputations achieved elsewhere until proved in Wigan, trusted Bishop Charles immediately. They soon felt that he recognised what the Church Times frequently called "Wonderful Wigan". The immediate friendship between Canon W O Hunter Rodwell, Rector of Wigan, and the Bishop was noted with admiration and pleasure.

 

   Hallsall Rectory was a very attractive house with lovely gardens, and being in the centre of the market garden area near Southport was very suitable for relaxation and for thoughtful meditation about plans for the Diocese. Bishop Claxton was appointed to the Rectory.

 

   Sunday Schools in Lancashire were a vigorous part of the work of the Church. The Bishop gave tremendous leadership in these areas of Christian Education. He was deeply concerned with planning, not least in spiritual training of teachers. Courses for them and quiet days were regularly held with the Bishop present, and knowing the participants so often through regular contact. During his time the planning of Diocesan events was largely through his inspiration.

 

   In committee he was always wise and practical. He did not waste time. He could sum up a situation or an individual in a few words. He was ever kind and courteous, with a boisterous sense of humour. Those were the days when the Bishops had a very demanding responsibility of innumerable Confirmation services. They had to keep fit to be able to cope. This meant, however, that parishes saw their Bishop regularly and really knew him, as he did so many of them. People preferred to have their families confirmed in their own parish church. The Bishops were known in their pastoral and spiritual capacity..and took the oppurtunity to speak to the hearts of many who were in church for a confirmation, and only infrequently at other times. It was a mission work in which Bishop Claxton was supreme.

 

   On one occasion when I was Vicar of Haigh near Wigan he came to our Confirmation. I was alone at the Vicarage and invited him to a meal before the service. He had to come from Derbyshire. To me that seemed a very long way, and I prepared for him as carefully as I could. I thought "the Bishop will be tired after his journey." He arrived and I asked him immediately if he would like a bath after his journey. " A bath, Senar, a bath?" To him the journey was not as exhausting as I had thought. However, we had a thoroughly enjoyable meal and arrived late for the Confirmation. Any rebukes were silenced when he informed the large congregation that their Vicar had produced such a banquet that "we had to do justice to it". The congregation was mightily amused. They loved him for it.

 

   I planned a separation of my parish and a daughter church. He came to the service of Inauguration of the new parish. As he climbed the pulpit steps, the organist pulled out all the stops for the last verse of the hymn. This fused the electricity. The Bishop without hesitation preached a sermon on the text "Let there be light" and continued his sermon in the darkened church with his unprepared theme. Memorable! (yes indeed! Editor).

 

   Diocesan Conferences were immortal, not least for the oppurtunity of meeting one's fellow curates and incumbents. In those days everyone was invited and sometimes they were held for two days. The Bishops sat on the platform at St George's Hall or the Picton Hall, Liverpool. The Canons of the Diocese and the Rural Deans were on the platform with them. Thus the younger clergy got to know the Diocesan officers and dignitaries. On one occasion a body of curates sat in the gallery during a debate in which there was not a little heat. It came to a vote, and as the folk in the gallery could not vote there was a sudden descent from the gallery into the hall to register a "no" vote. This displeased certain of the members on the platform. This was expressed with vigour and crushing expression upon the younger members for the undignified behaviour at the conference.

 

   Bishop Claxton was able to sense the tone of a meeting, and to know when things were getting too serious and folk needed to be brought down to earth with some good humour and tolerance. He stood majestically on the left hand side of the platform often to present a case for decision. "I've never heard such nonsense" he declaimed with his arm outstretched when one member of the younger clergy made an attack on the diocesan officials. He could speak like that and no-one took offence, but laughed it all off.

 

   I moved to St Albans Diocese in 1956 and when I said I was leaving at a meeting of the Liverpool Diocesan Education Committee (after reporting on 140+ reports for church schools) he said "What on earth are you going there for?" he commented. I whispered to him "I know not!" "What a reason for going" he commented. I liked to think that he really cared about my departure.

 

   The Bishop's appointment to the Blackburn Diocese meant that the Diocese was to have a superb Diocesan Bishop. The importance of maintaining and developing the Church's schools and contribution to education was the challenge where the Bishop's leadership and commitment was a major contribution. The Church's schools development in the Chorley area adjoining that where I worked was of lasting importance. The Cathedral development at Blackburn was another great interest of the Bishop. Ordained at Chelmsford, and experience of Southwark, Rochester, Bristol and Liverpool was an excellent background for the work. His association with St Martin-in-the-Fields had brought its own breadth of pastoral concern.

 

   The period 1946-1960 were great days for the Liverpool Diocese and the Diocese of Blackburn 1960-1971 were likewise greatly blessed. The University of Lancaster was the recipient of vigorous support from Bishop Claxton, and he was very happy to have been able to make his contribution to the future of the University. His interest in the work of the Industrial Christian Fellowship and the work of the Church in the manufacturing areas of his diocese was reflected on as being of creative value in relationships. During these years my contact with him was limited to one meeting.

 

   We met outside St Albans Cathedral after the memorial service to Dean Thicknesse ( a former Rector of Wigan). Thicknesse had been one of the leaders in the National Society and in Christian Education. The Bishop had been Chairman of the Church Training Colleges Council. This must have been about 1970. I thought that he looked tired, and that all the strains of a Bishop who had given his life for his people, showed. I was so pleased to see him, and to be remembered by him. He talked to me as one talks to old friends. In a few moments a lifelong memory of affection and deep admiration was created. Little thinking that there was to be another chapter.

 

   I learned that the Bishop had resigned his see and had moved to Devon. In 982 I resigned my living of Little Gaddesden in Hertfordshire, St Albans Diocese, and moved to take part in a "retirement Ministry" in Devon. It was the Clyst Valley Team Ministry. To my great delight I found that Bishop Claxton was living at Budleigh Salterton in the Aylesbeare Deanery. I was in charge of Aylesbeare and Farringdon in the Deanery. I also joined the East Devon Branch of the Retired Clergy Association. The Bishop was beloved President of the Branch.

 

   As President he took a deep interest in each of the clergy and attended most of the meetings. He understood so well the lives of the men, their problems and anxieties. Above all he celebrated Holy Communion with such reverence and in the manner and approach  which they valued so that he was their spiritual pastor and their Bishop.

 

   He was Assistant Bishop in the Diocese of Exeter and loved the Cathedral, being present on occasions when his being there gave much joy. He was in demand for Confirmation services in the Aylesbeare Deanery and at Aylesbeare he left a lasting impression on candidates and their families. One felt that he underlined in his addresses what he knew the clergy had been teaching in their preparation.

 

  He helped especially at Clyst St George and without his help there were times when life would have been very difficult for the Clyst Valley Team. Of course the laity loved having him there. He was a true pastor and friend to many, any parishioners. His fellow Bishops must have valued highly his wisdom and experience.

 

   He kept several important anniversaries when the parishioners of Budleigh Salterton could express their joy and deep affection. On one very important occasion, the 60th anniversary of his ordination, the church was packed. The preacher was his old friend Bishop Mervyn Stockwood. It was a magnificent sermon for a magnificent occasion. Moreover these tow "greats" would go swimming together at Budleigh Salterton. He always kept himself very fit. By the time we met in Devon it was so refreshing to see that the tiredness and strain of our St Albans meeting had disappeared, and he looked so well and young again. We seemed to pick up where we had left off so many years before.

 

   One thing stands out so clearly..his deep devotion to Jane. He mentioned her name with such affection. One could imagine that he cared for her so lovingly. She was able to be present at a reception at the Church Hall at Budleigh Salterton to the great delight of all his friends, and to have their family present too.

 

   Bishop Charles as the Retired Clergy called him was one whose life and ministry was so rich in so many ways. So many people's lives have been touched by him. I knew him for 48 years.

 

                                            I thank God with all my heart for him

 

 

 

One of the people that I met through my grandfather was Stephen Green, whom my grandfather introduced me to at Lord's cricket ground. Cricket was one of my grandfather's passions, and I have many happy memories of sitting with him in the sunshine, eating a packed lunch together as the cricketers competed inside the boundary rope.

 

 

BISHOP CHARLES CLAXTON - An Appreciation by Stephen Green

 

 

   I first heard Charles Claxton in November 1956 when I was aged 13. He was an old boy of my school, Monkton Combe, and he was asked to preach at Commemoration during my first half term there. The young Charles Claxton, incidentally, was removed from the school by his parents who thought he was being bullied - it would be difficult to think of anybody who in later life would have resisted more strongly anyone who tried to bully him or other people!

 

   To revert to the main theme, the weekend of November 1956 was an historic one, coinciding as it did with the Hungarian uprising and the Suez adventure, but I regret I do not remember what the Bishop of Warrington said. I was much more preoccupied with escaping from the school in my parent's company and with having proper meals for a change.

 

   The first time I really met him was at Perth, Western Australia, in December 1974. England were playing Australia and we found ourselves in adjacent seats. It transpired that the Bishop was taking a locum at the Cathedral in Bunbury. This was the place where I was staying with Godmother, Mrs Enid Claxton (no relation). She gave a dinner party for Charles and Jane Claxton at which I was the only person present who did not bear the noble name.

 

   After this initial meeting the Bishop usually came to Lord's each year as my guest and in this way I got to know all his sons and daughters and some of the grandchildren. I was invited several times to stay with them in Budleigh Salterton which I much enjoyed. Occasionally the Bishop entertained me at the House of Lords. On the last occasion I was able to hear Lord Stockton give one of his inimitable speeches and I was very conscious that I was in the presence of at least two great men.

 

   Three memories abide. The Bishop heard that I was the great nephew of the late Revd H Coryton, the former head of Missions to Seamen. Apparently Charles Claxton as a Curate had not seen eye to eye with his Vicar and had impetuously walked out on his parish and tried to join the Missions to Seamen. Fortunately my great uncle was out and Charles Claxton thought better of his actions and meekly returned to the fold!

 

   My second memory takes me back to the spring of 1976. I was toying with the idea of taking another job and I asked the Bishop for a reference. Dr Claxton said he would be pleased to help but he could do nothing for some days because he was going to take a short holiday in Majorca. This interested me because I too was going there for a break. I longed to have a chat with him. I dutifully went on the  Sunday to the English Church in Palma where I thought any self-respecting Bishop would be found. Charles Claxton was not there - it later transpired he had taken an informal service in his hotel. I gave up the idea of meeting him on this visit.

 

   Majorca is a large island but that afternoon as we were driving along on a lonely road about 40 miles from Palma, we nearly mowed down a venerable but brightly clad figure. Lo and behold it was the Bishop! He was taking a constitutional but immediately took us back to his hotel and gave us tea. I was able to discuss my plans with him. After all that, it was an anti-climax that I was not offered the job.

 

   My last thought about Charles Claxton comes not from my own experience but from Bishop Mervyn Stockwood's autobiography Clactonbury Ring. Mervyn Stockwood as a young parson in Bristol had somewhat upset the more staid members of his flock with his forthright views on politics and religion. The ever kindly William Temple heard about this and offered to call in person to help when he was en route for his annual holiday in the Quantocks. When the phone went Mervyn Stockwood unfortunately thought it was his friend and neighbour Charles Claxton playing one of his practical jokes. After replying in an hilariously robust manner, suddenly the awful truth dawned on Mervyn Stockwood that it really was the Archbishop of Canterbury on the other end of the line!

 

   Bishop Claxton was my friend for 17 years. He enriched my life. He never grew old. He was a model of faith, fervour, efficiency and friendliness. There are many who thank God on every remembrance of him.

 

  Stephen Green

 

 

One of the things that was the hallmark of my grandfather was his caring personal approach to those under his charge. Perhaps one of the best examples of this can be seen in the following account, by another close friend - Rev John G Williams

 

 

   I welcome this oppurtunity of paying my tribute of affection to my old friend, Bishop Charles Claxton. I always thought of him, and remember him still, as a jolly Dickensian figure, rather like Mr Pickwick, rotund, genial, kindly, affectionate, full of fun and always on the verge of laughter ( which, when it burst, was alarmingly explosive!) - but never pompous or trivial. He was the perfect companion at Conferences and Summer Schools, of which we shared many. They never became too solemn when Charles was in the offing. It was all enormous fun. "Cheerfulness was always breaking in."

 

   But my most affectionate memories of him are on a simpler level: memories of occasions in 1953-54 when he was Bishop of Warrington and I was the new and bewildered Vicar of St Columba's Anfield in Liverpool. Those early days were a sad time for my family because soon after our arrival, our little daughter Margaret, 8 years old, died of a brain tumour, and it was not an easy at such a time to settle into a new job in a strange place.

 

   In those dark days Charles was a beacon of light. His visits to our Vicarage after Margaret died were a source not only of great consolation but also of enormous happiness. My most vivid memory of those early visits is his affectionate response to our little twin sons (then 3 years old). He became at once a kind of "favourite uncle" to them. He played and romped with them (preferably on the floor) and they took it into their heads (with his connivance) to regard his silver pectoral cross as a penny whistle! As they vied with each other to blow imaginary tunes on the end of it, he would make appropriate noises which sent them into paroxysms of mirth. They loved him and looked forward to his visits entirely as another occasion to blow the pectoral whistle.

 

   His affectionate understanding was also extended to our older boy Christopher (then 10) who sorely missed the companionship of his little sister; and when he came home from school for the holidays, Charles and Jane always invited him to go over and spend a few days at their lovely Rectory at Halsall, where he was made warmly welcome by the whole family and found a special companion in Simon, who was the same age.

 

   Charles and I worked closely together on many important educational projects, both in Liverpool and later when he was Bishop of Blackburn, but it is these mental pictures of his lovely, humourous, gentle and deeply compassionate spirit which remain uppermost in my memory - and perhaps above all the memory that surrounds the "pectoral whistle"; a ray of light at a time of great darkness. He was a rare and beloved soul. May he rest in peace.

 

   I have found it difficult to find much material from Charles's twenties or thirties, as unfortunately many of his friends from those years have passed away. We know that he studied for the ministry at Ridley Hall Cambridge before taking up a post as a curate in the East End of London. During the holidays, Charles would often go on beach missions, organised by his father. This recollection, by Dorothy Jeffry, makes the past come alive in a most exciting way. Here are some excerpts from her letter about Charles...

 

   Charles was a friend of my father, and they were at Cambridge (Queens College) as indeed later were my brother Ian and David Claxton. My father and Charles Claxton were interested in helping at children's missions and in his memoirs he describes assisting Herbert Claxton (Charles's Father) in his annual Children's Mission at Newquay. Apparently 18 students and helpers stayed at the Vicarage there and they held services on the beach, organised rambles and had group-meetings and torchlight processions. This was in 1928. There is a somewhat battered photograph showing the 18 - among them Jane Stevenson, her sister Helen, Charles, his sister and his parents.

 

   Going back to Halsall and my visits there; with Charles being a Bishop (of Warrington, then) I was somewhat in awe, the Bishops of my acquaintance having been rather lordly personages, so I was relieved to find that Bishop Claxton was very human, genial, friendly and kindly. I remember that I felt that staying in a Bishop's house I should go to church at every oppurtunity, but he pointed out that one could overdo the church attendance and I needn't attend all the services!

 

   I had never seen a Bishop put his feet up on the mantlepiece before! He knew how to relax. But I should think he worked very hard and could be a demanding employer. Jane was also very kind and friendly - I called her "Auntie Jane". She had a lovely sense of humour.

 

Dorothy Jeffry

 

 

 

This letter gives a superb insight into life on the beach. It is from Elizabeth Johnstone:

 

 

   During the First World War my father had gone off to fight with his Regiment in Palestine and my mother and I went to live with my grandparents at Laddock where my grandfather was Rector and subsequently Archdeacon of Cornwall. In the summer every morning Edith took me down to the beach (Tolcarne) and we had this incredibly happy time with the Children's Seaside Campaign, run largely by the Claxton family - a father, a son called Ernest and a very open-hearted and friendly one called Charles. Charles had fair curly hair and was my all-out favourite. Of course there were lots of other helpers joining in; I suppose they would have been undergraduates but Ernest and Charles and someone called Joan were the ones I remember best.

 

   When we got down to the beach the Claxtons had made a big bank of sand and the children hollowed out seats for themselves and we always began with a service, taken by either Ernest or Charles. We had action songs with choruses and a Bible story and the competition came as part of the service - I think I had an unfair advantage for old Edith was determined I should win.

 

   After the service there were hugely exciting things to do and all suggested by the Claxton family. We did things like who can build the biggest castle - or make a garden with seaweed and shells and all the while being egged on by the Claxton family.

 

   By then it was Edith saying "Come along now Betty, it's nearly time for lunch." I remember wishing so much that I could grow up quickly so that I could be old enough to join the teenagers who the Claxtons were going to take over to Fistral Beach to play rounders or have a cricket match; but I had to have a boring rest or practise my reading or sewing. Then sometimes was the biggest excitement of all. The Claxtons would organize an activity like a very short service out on the cliffs while the sun went down and a hymn or two and "good morning to America" which we shouted as the sun went down behind the sea. Occasionally there would be a procession right through the town with the teenagers carrying paper Chinese lanterns on poles and still singing - always with the Claxtons in the lead. I was allowed to sit up and watch the procession dressed in my pyjamas and am pleased to say that window is still there. Then to bed after saying my prayers of course properly and down on my knees and then into bed with the total certainty of another lovely day tomorrow, of the Claxtons still being there and perhaps I might just manage to win the competition again and perhaps the Claxtons would speak to me.

 

   Charles became Bishop of Warrington in 1946 (young for a bishop as he was born in 1903!) As part of his work as a Bishop he had personal supervision of two parishes, Halsall and West Derby. One of his curates at Halsall was Canon William Riley, who recalls a classic tale from the past...

 

              When I was a curate with Charles at Halsall we made 5.00pm on Saturday the time for Evensong. On occasion Charles could hardly contain his laughter during the confession. Afterwards he told me that he had been coming out of Church earlier that afternoon when he was met by Arthur, the Sexton, who asked "Had a Service Rector?"

 

                 "No," said Charles, "I have been hearing confessions." "Well," Arthur replied, "I never thought I'd live to see Halsall Church sink so low!"

 

    Charles always used to beam at me in the curate's stall if he thought of some such incident or if we were singing a hymn such as "Come let us join our cheerful songs" and the congregation were looking gloomy. (some things never change... Editor).

 

 

From Jean Haslam, secretary to the Bishop at Halsall

 

 

   We vividly recall a strange coincidence that happened during the Bishop's last stay with us. We were delighted to be able to share this house with him during the last seven years; always such an amiable and charming guest. However, we were to see him with his feathers ruffled for the very first time!

 

   He came to stay with us on the 20th June 1991 after having been to the first day of the Lord's Test with an old friend. We had two happy dinner parties with him. After the second one I escorted a friend part way home. On the way back I chanced to speak to a woman who, with a bill-board proclaiming sympathy for a lost cause, was determined to carry on her vigil alone all through the night. She refused my offer of a "Comfort stop" in our house and I thought no more of her.

 

   The next morning the Bishop appeared in the kitchen in a very agitated state with broken spectacles in his hand. He was distraught because not only had he lost his contact lenses, but his spectacles had broken as well! John, my husband, mended the spectacles with sellotape and we all continued the search for the lenses. The Bishop had two very important engagements that weekend; first a wedding at St Bride's, Fleet Street, and then a christening the next day. It soon became clear that he objected strongly to carrying out wither of these whilst wearing his old spectacles. He then had a brainwave that perhaps one lens had slipped down under the bottom eyelid and was resting above his cheek bone. John tried hard to see if there was anything there but without success. Finally, because the Bishop was so very unhappy, John took him across Kensington High Street to an optician's shop. Whilst they were away I continued the search for lenses - EUREKA - I found a lens under a glass on the window ledge.

 

   I reached out and across the road to meet them with my news. Not only was there no lens hiding under the bottom eyelid, but the one I had found was the one John and the Bishop had put in a sage place! So, we were all agitated by this time - all of us talking excitedly amid the High Street traffic. Suddenly a voice was heard to say, " Excuse me, Bishop, but would you say a prayer with me?" It was the lady with the bill-board. At that instant all was calm, but I must say my husband wasn't to be seen for dust. I stayed with the Bishop whilst he took the lady's hand in his and recited beautifully the collect for peace and added an extempore prayer for her lone twenty-four hour vigil. We walked home and I commented, rather irreligiously, that I was glad he had only lost his lenses and not "his marbles" - I don't think I could have remembered so much as my name after the frantic happenings of the last hour.

 

   However, the Bishop found an old set of contact lenses and was becoming happier by the minute. He breakfasted and John took him to a taxi - we were to learn later that the driver had no idea where St Bride's was! Later in the day I happened to pass the demonstrator again and she called out to me to ask which Bishop had been so kind as to pray with her. I said that he was Charles Claxton, one-time Bishop of Blackburn. Complete amazement from the woman as she spluttered ""I was at c#school with his daughter, Sylvia". Of course, we chattered together but I was afraid I never did remember her name!

 

 

 

From Dilys Glynne, who also worked as a secretary to Charles while he and Jane were at Halsall:

 

   "I greatly enjoyed my time at Halsall, and was sorry to leave. The Rectory, the garden, and St Cuthbert's were lovely, and it was good to feel part of the loving Claxton family. Charles was an ideal employer, as I'm sure you would agree. His spiritual side was deep and true - I was so glad that David read 1 Corinthians 13 at his funeral; whilst waiting for the service to begin I had been remembering how he would read it at family prayers at breakfast time every Monday morning. Clearly I was not the only one to remember. Here are a few recollections of Charles:

 

1. Before sitting down to a hasty meal before rushing to another engagement his grace before the meal would be: "Thank God. Amen"

 

2. During my time at Halsall Rectory, he had phlebitis in one leg, and was very frustrated when ordered to stay in bed for however long it was, as he had to cancel or postpone a number of engagements. (After a week or two, however, he found it rather pleasant to have Jane and me waiting on him hand and foot, and not rushing off all over the diocese.) Eventually the doctor told him he could get up, but said rather apologetically that he would not be able to kneel for the time being. "Never mind about that," said Charles, "can I drive the car?"

 

3. Once when he was away at Church Assembly or some such jamboree, I didn't have much to do, so decided to tackle the piles of parish magazines, sent to him from all over the diocese, which lay in piles about a foot high all along the long window sills of his study, and which he was obviously never going to have time to read. I left him with small neat piles of the most recent issues, and virtually clear window sills, stacking the rejects in sacks in one of the many little rooms beyond the kitchen. His comment when he returned: " You don't shirk taking responsibility!" I offered to put them back, but he didn't take me up on it.

 

4. Usually he or Jane used to make the morning tea and bring me a cup, but on Sundays and saints days when there was an early celebration I didn't have one so got up to make their instead. Sometimes their eiderdown would have slid to the floor, so I would replace it when bringing the tea. Charles opened an eye and murmered, "When you leave I shall write in your testimonial "Every service rendered, eiderdowns replaced"". I don't know if he did, but doubt it, as I don't think I should have got that particular job with such a reference.

 

5. Jane and I went with him one day to an ordination in Liverpool cathedral. He had been given to understand that most of the congregation would make their communion, so he had consecrated sufficient bread and wine, but in the event there were very few communicants, so there was a lot left at the end. Driving back to Halsall, he commented that he felt a little tipsy: Jane was somewhat shocked - long before the days of breathalysers.

 

6. It wasn't necessary to know the local telephone numbers: Charles would pick up the receiver and say, "Oh Ethel, get me James will you?" (James Sephton being one of his wardens). Ethel (Post Office and telephone exchange) might say "Eh Rector, I did hear him say he were going to so and so's - I'll try him there for you."

 

 

 

Bishop Charles moved from Warrington to become Bishop of Blackburn in 1960. Here are some fond memories from a number of people who knew him in Blackburn. The first is from Bishop Morris Maddocks, Adviser to the Archbishops of Canterbury and York for the Ministry of Health and Healing.

 

  

   We first got to know Charles at the Blackburn diocese Call to Mission. It was all his vision and he collected four missioners from each of the northern dioceses and I remember the Dean of St Paul's was there and some other great preachers of our time and we met in the Imperial Hotel, Blackpool, for an initial briefing. We were then billeted throughout the deaneries of the diocese for the Call to Mission and it was one of the most memorable times of my life as a Parish Priest, called to preach night after night to these vast congregations of Lancashire folk. One of the hymns in our hymn book today came out of that mission - We have a gospel to proclaim - which was written as the theme hymn for the deanery of Chorley where I was the missioner with Brandon Jackson.

 

   Bishop Charles then asked me to do one of his ordination retreats at Whalley Abbey and I can remember him giving his ordination charge which was full of sanctified common sense and came from a man of prayer. Soon after this he invited me to be his Chaplain and part-time Chaplain at the University but I was heavily involved in my own parish and diocese of York at that time and so had to decline.

 

   He came to stay with us at St Martin's Vicarage and I remember the great difficulty with which we got his superb Rover 3.5 into the garage. He was always such fun and full of anecdotes and amusing accounts of people and places.

 

   Another time he brought Mervyn Stockwood over to stay a night in the Crown Hotel. IT showed his compassion because Mervyn, a very great friend of his, looked white and ashen and had obviously been over-doing things and Charles thought that 24 hours of sea air might do him good. This shows his intense compassion and capacity for friendship. We walked all along the esplanade at a slow pace for Mervyn's sake.

 

   The depth of his friendship which Anne and I valued so highly throughout our ministry was seen in his later years when with great difficulty he drove to Wells Cathedral from Budleigh Salterton to be present at my commissioning as Healing Adviser to the Archbishops and the beginning of our "Acorn" ministry. We were able to lunch together that day in the Cathedral refectory which was a very great joy for us and we last saw him when we visited him in Budleigh Salterton and he took us out to the hotel for luncheon. Dear Charles had a very great loyalty of friendship which was never diminished by the years but rather increased. He made time to service his friends and so left a legacy of gratitude among so many people".

 

 

 

For Rev John and Edna Paisley, three memories amongst many hundreds particularly stand out:-

 

   Not long after Charles' translation from Warrington our Bishop startled his Diocesan, pre-synod conference with the announcement "Your Bishop does not wish to hear of any more Bingo sessions for the raising of church funds. They are just an unworthy method of financing our cause."

 

    At the time of a Diocesan Clergy Conference I was in the throes of immense building problems with little daylight anywhere except through the hall roof! Pleading that I had no mind, or stomach, for the normally happy occasion, Bishop Charles showed his own similar experience in a Bristol parish, sanctioned my absence from Butlin's, and concluded "And don't forget to hand it all over to the Lord. God bless you". He also sought to help financially.

 

   On my Institution at St Mark's Blackpool, at the moment of "Taking possession" by ringing the church bell, I had made just one toll when the rope stuck - with all that such a disaster portended for the length of the new incumbency. The parish experts could not free the thing, but everything was smoothed hilariously by the obvious enjoyment of the bishop at such a comic turn, smoothly given its moment, then on with the real business, more reverently than ever.

 

 

 

From Neil of Rose Cottage

 

   A memory of Bishop Charles Claxton

 

   My telephone rang one day in July some years ago and it was the Bishop asking me as Rural Dean to arrange with the Clergy of the Deanery and with the Blackpool police for a procession of witness to be held on the first Sunday in October from Stanley Park, down the Promenade to end at St John's Church. I informed all who would be involved including the then Chief Constable of Blackpool, Stanley Parr, who immediately said: "That Sunday is the first Sunday of the illuminations and there is just no way I could guarantee passage for a procession down the promenade that day. If we had every policeman in Blackpool on duty it could not be done." I accordingly rang the Bishop and told him the situation and said we would be mistaken to try to arrange such a function without police support. A long silence ensued and at last the reply came: "All right Neil, but you know you speak for the devil, don't you? Goodbye".

 

 

In order to get a deeper insight into Charles' ministry as a Bishop we need to hear from those who knew his work well. Ven W D Robinson, Archdeacon of Blackburn, has been most obliging in sending in the following anecdotes, including the address given at my grandfather's memorial service:

 

 

   "I heard one anecdote relating to his first few weeks in the Diocese. He was to confirm at a major parish church and was given travel directions which made it clear that this was a large church in the town centre. He entered the church greeting everyone in sight with his characteristic bonhomie. As he progressed up the centre aisle it occurred to him that although the church he was going to was regarded as being in the Anglican Catholic tradition it was unlikely to have quite so many statures as he saw before him. He had, of course, landed in the big Roman Catholic Parish Church, but cooly turned round for a swift exit blessing everyone in sight as he swept in a westerly direction.

 

 

 

There are many stories of terrified passengers being driven by their Bishop, who was known to some as Jehu "for he driveth furiously" (see second book Kings chapter 9 verse 20)

 

Ven Robinson also delivered the address at the service of thanksgiving after my grandfather's death in 1992.

 

 

   ADDRESS AT THE SERVICE OF THANKSGIVING FOR THE LIFE AND MINISTRY OF CHARLES CLAXTON, BISHOP - 7TH APRIL 1992 AT BLACKBURN CATHEDRAL

 

    Psalm 115 verse 1 "Not unto us O Lord, not unto us, but unto they Name give the praise"

 

   It is more than twenty years since Charles Claxton retired from this Diocese. Inevitably therefore, there will be a diminishing number of priests who remember his farewell to his clergy at a conference at the Metropole in Blackpool. At his insistence it was low key, remarkable for a man whose Episcopate had been so high key in every way. There were to be no speeches praising him for what he had done, for it had been done by the power of the Holy Spirit.

 

   Power, the Greek word "Dunamis" (he would often say it to Confirmation candidates) is the same root as for dynamite; the Holy Spirit is dynamite.

 

   "Not unto us, but unto thy Name give the praise"

 

   Today I take my instructions in a way from Charles, not to be preaching about him, but to try to preach through him the wonderful works of God, so I remind you first of all that anything good we are or do is not for our own praise but is by the dynamite of the Holy Spirit.

 

   In that same valedictory address, our then Bishop apologised for any hurt he may have caused to any of us by word or by deed. We saw therefore both penitence and humility, further fruits of the Spirit.

 

   I continue on my anecdotal journey with memories of a scene in this very Cathedral around 30 years ago when my children were small. The Bishop's Christmas Party for clergy children was always preceded by carol-singing here. There is fixed in my mind a picture of Charles in Cope and Mitre, skipping down this centre aisle before we knew much about skipping in church, with seemingly dozens of small children clinging to his hands, arms and cope. All, including the Bishop, looked like smiley badges.

 

   One of the fruits of the spirit is joy and he knew that the Gospel is good news and it is fun to be a Christian.

 

   I must refer to the second book of Kings, Chapter 9 verse 20. You will of course have instant recall of that verse. Just in case you don't let me remind you that it described how Jehu was recognised at a great distance in his chariot because he drove furiously. It was rumoured among the junior clergy that in the House of Bishops Charles was affectionately known as Jehu. We have no means of knowing if that was true, but some of us recall that we were already breaking the speed limit on a motorway when the Maroon Episcopal car would whiz by and leave us rapidly.

 

   It was indeed "Life lived abundantly". In this Diocese we saw it. Jesus Christ must be taken to every corner of society. He joined the Transport and General Workers Union, the Masonic Brotherhood, and he gave lunches for Captains of Industry. Pop stars were met in Blackpool, pints were pulled as a new pub was opened. The church must be there in the vanguard of the foundation of the University of Lancaster and of St Martin's College, to say nothing of the maintenance and improvement of our Church Schools. All of this zest confirmed that whilst God loved the Church, it was for the World that "He gave his only begotten Son".

 

   I was moved at the Funeral Service at Macclesfield and again today when his sons told us how their father regularly read to the family on Monday mornings, the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. We recognise here both the family man and one who knew how important a foundation a Christian family is in society. In this he was so well supported by Jane who was Diocesan President of the Mothers' Union.

Even more in that passage is the centrality of Love the greatest of all gifts of God.

 

   One more anecdote if I may. Charles instituted me to my first living in 1963. Later that year there was a hand written Christmas Card on which were the words "I hear great things about your work". Of course he knew, and I knew, that they were not as great as all that, and certainly I was not alone in receiving such messages. None of us young clergy were made complacent by praise. We were encouraged and we worked harder and the happier because of it.

 

   I pluck another memorable, almost throw away line from my memories of my erstwhile Bishop. He had emerged from some service or meeting, I know not which. His car had been stolen. What would you have said? Charles recited the Gloria. He may have said other things before, but he recited the Gloria. More than anything, this was a symbol of unshakeable faith that whatever happened God was in charge. Do not worry, say the Gloria. This was the rock of faith, and isn't that why we have just sung that wonderful hymn "Firmly I believe and truly".

 

"Not unto us O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give the praise."

 

   This is a service of Thanksgiving offered for the life of Charles Claxton, Bishop. I hope that it brings also the word of God to us. It reminds us that the Spirit is dynamite in human lives, that humility and penitence are of God, that the Gospel is good news full of joy, that the good news is for the whole world, that a holy family is still the basis for loving relationships in life, that love is the great gift of God, that God is always with us to guard and guide and uphold, that encouragement of each other is so important in the family of the Church as it is in the family of human beings. We thank God or all that teaching and example. May he rest in peace and rise in glory. Amen.

 

 

 

 

As has been mentioned, my grandfather was never without his special guardian angel "Robert" when in need of help with transportation. Many write about "Robert". Take for example this one from Rev James Robertson, another clergy friend of Charles.

 

  

 

   In the seventies he often came to see me in Church House, Westminster, or at USPG. He always seemed to have arranged to see too many people in too short a time. The result was he always seemed to be dashing for a taxi. At rush hour I always used to advise that he would find one hard to get. "Don't worry", he always replied, "I have this special taxi angel, and I say to him, "Taxi for Charles, please, and he never fails me". Three times I saw his conviction rewarded and my scepticism confounded. This always produced his ebullient laughter - the more important memory!

 

 

From Gillian Riddell

 

 

   Bishop Charles was a special friend to both me and my family. We have many happy memories of the various occasions spent in his company during the past thirteen years, which included the Confirmation at different times of both my daughters, the Marriage of the eldest, and the Christening of my first grandchild. With the familiar twinkle in his eye, Bishop Charles then suggested we might call him our personal Chaplain - in company with many other families I feel sure.

 

   His true friendship, guidance and example and also his endearing sense of fun greatly enriched our lives. His strength in prayer was known to many and my family recently became especially aware of this. My daughter Vanessa and her husband Mark have made their home in America. Vanessa suffered medical problems during 1991 resulting in two miscarriages. When hearing this news in December of that year Bishop Charles was most concerned and said he would pray for Vanessa to have a second child. During my very last telephone conversation with Bishop Charles I was able to give him encouraging news of Vanessa and he was delighted.

 

   Vanessa and Mark were overjoyed with love and gratitude when James Robert was born on 11 October 1992. James is to be Christened at St Peter's Church, Budleigh Salterton. His second name - Robert - was chosen because it was Bishop Charles' second name.

 

   Bishop Charles is still "the household name that he always was" and sadly missed by us all. His life truly reflected the glory of God and we will remember him with love - always.

 

 

From Rev Field of Bede Lodge

 

 

   Amongst many things, it might be worth mentioning the Bishop's flair for recognising high ability. It was he who pulled James Robertson out of Bede College and saw Hugh Pollard establish St Martins. He also had a highly original mind, and surprised everyone when, for his final speech in the Lord's he chose the subject of dereliction, making a cogent plea for the better development of industrial wasteland.

 

   It was the twinkle in his eye that helped to make some of his lighter comments effective. Exceptionally for a retired bishop, he often attended meetings of the Ayesbeare chapter, where he often had to listen to the grumbles of the parish clergy about diocesan arrangements. On once occasion there was discontent because confirmations could not be arranged on dates that suited the parishes. "I'll come and confirm for you", he said with a smile, "but don't tell the Bishop!"

 

   On another occasion, when he and Jane had been to a meal here, he mentioned his forthcoming visit to Bunbury in Australia. "This means that you will be away for Lent," I remarked. "I don't like Lent", he said with a twinkle as he drove away.

 

 

From Margaret Stockham, one time housekeeper at Bishop's House, Blackburn: some priceless memories:-

 

 

An Awful Responsibility

 

   One summer I was helping the Bishop in the garden of the family holiday cottage in Devon. The Bishop was pruning the fruit trees whilst I cleared away the debris. The shears were causing pressure on his ring finger, so removing his gardening gloves he handed me his episcopal ring which was the cause of the discomfort.

 

"Margaret," he said "Please take this ring up to the house for safe-keeping". I remember the ring was very heavy. As I turned to go I slipped the ring onto my finger. The Bishop looked at me gravely ; "Wear the ring wisely Margaret," he said " That is my seal of office and whoever wears it is in charge of the diocese." By the time I reached the house I felt quite weighed down.

 

Church Unity

 

   The Bishop was celebrating communion one Sunday at a village church as the Rector was ill. A house guest and myself accompanied the Bishop in the car. The road took us up a rather steep hill. The Bishop stopped to offer an elderly lady, toiling upwards, a lift which she gratefully accepted. At the top of the hill the lady shouted for him to stop the car as he had overshot the chapel.

 

   "I'm not like some folk", she said, turning round to include the back-seat passengers. In a loud voice she continued "that only go to church when a Bishop is expected, but thank you for the lift young man."

 

   "My pleasure" said the young (!) man, "but you are quite right madam. I was thoughtless. I should have asked your destination." And so saying he did a remarkable U-turn and roared back to the chapel. He helped his passenger to alight, escorted her through the Lych gate and up the path to the Chapel door. The welcoming elders, gathered in the porch, looked totally bewildered. They recognised a Diocesan Bishop when they saw one even if the lady did not.

 

 

The Call of the Dog-Collar

 

 

   My dog Patsy was devoted to the Bishop and loved travelling with him in the family car which he usually used on non-official journeys. She would sit quietly as near to the car as possible hoping for a lift. If invited she would sit very happily on the back seat taking great interest in all that happened. The Bishop enjoyed her company and said she was most receptive when he tried out his sermons. Patsy never went to sleep like some members of the congregation did.

 

   On returning home Patsy never left the car with out saying Thank you. This she did by placing a gentle kiss on the back of his neck, between the dog collar and hair line.

 

 

From Mrs G L Wheeler

 

 

   I am not sure I can recall many special instances of his lovely personality, so many keep crowding. Our first meeting was not at a church service but at a large parish gathering at the Norbreck Hotel in Blackpool. My husband, the late Canon G L Wheeler was the priest who invented planned Christian giving in England, later to be known as Stewardship.

 

   Our parish was in the midst of a huge task, the rebuilding of the Parish Church and the sum to be raised was enormous. We had already rebuilt the South Aisle and the Lady Chapel and had begun the North Aisle. It had been usual for us to make a small gift to a new Bishop on his first visit to us. We knew somehow that Bishop Charles smoked a pipe so he was given two Dunhill pipes in a leather case. He was overjoyed and made a delightful speech, won everyone's hearts and on future visits never came minus his pipe. We were all charmed by his gracious wife to whom we gave flowers.

 

   He came to regard Thornton Vicarage as a quiet resting place between morning and evening engagements on the coast. He knew he could have a meal at any time, he as so easy to entertain. We had a Knole sofa in the drawing room. He loved to put his feet up, have a nap, wake for a cup of afternoon tea, and then off to further duties. In almost his last letter to me he enquired "had I still kept the Knole sofa?"

 

   He also Ordained our own son as Deacon in the Parish Church, the first Ordination in Christ Church. Later he was to Baptise our grandson, whose first name is Robert in honour of the Bishop. My husband had a serious emergency operation in Blackpool Hospital. Normally the Bishop would have been lunching with us. However, he called at the hospital to see my husband and found him jaundiced and dangerously ill. Only a staff nurse in charge, sisters morning off, the dear Bishop sent for the house surgeon and got things moving at once. The Consultant Surgeon and Physician were called and the Bishop's prompt action saved my husband's life. Not content with that he informed the Rural Dean and asked for prayers in all the Church at Evensong.

 

   His last message to me was to quote from the Hymn "Father hear the prayer we offer", second verse:- "But the steep and rugged pathway may we tread rejoicingly"

 

   I cannot finish without saying how priviledged I was to know such a Dear Father in God, a true Priest who did walk in the steps of his master. May he be remembered with the saints in glory everlasting.

 

 

From Rev Brian and Wendy Beaumont of Goosnargh

 

 

   There is a story told about Bishop Claxton's well-known forgetfulness in observing speed limits. On the motorway at a service station near Stafford he was asked for a lift by a well-spoken man in good clothes which had seen better days. Being in purple stock and also generous hearted the Bishop said that he was going as far as Blackburn. "As far as the Forton Services would be sufficient" the stranger replied. On the stretch in between the Bishop exceeded the speed limit. The police patrol pulled him into Forton Services, booked him and were on their way.

 

   The stranger in thanking the Bishop revealed that he had just been released from prison and was more than grateful for the lift. He said one good turn deserved another, and as a good pickpocket produced the policeman's pocket book. Whether a page was removed before he handed the pocket book to the patrol cashier as something that he had just found will never be known. But the Bishop heard no more about the speeding.

 

 

From Mr Ivan Eastwood

 

 

   I met Charles Claxton when I was a small boy in the Parish Church Choir of St Peter's Parish Church Burnley and he the newly appointed Bishop of Blackburn. Bishops were frequent visitors in those days to the Parish Church of Burnley as the Rector was also the Bishop of the town of Burnley. Following my days as a choir boy I became a server and member of the Church Lads Brigade Company at the Parish Church and ti was during this time I became more close to Charles Claxton, taking care of him in the vestry with his robes, and in the Sanctuary when he was going to preach or on his return from the pulpit when I would also take care of him when robing. He became a man I greatly respected and looked up to, every inch a distinguished, typical Bishop.

 

   On more than one occasion when out on night exercises in the dead of night on the moors in the Trough of Bowland who should be waiting for us on the moor top but Charles with the Colonel of the Regiment Tom Berry, both wrapped up in anoraks, boots, waterproofs, the Bishop with his Russian fur hat on and underneath Dinner Suits, which I didn't discover until many years after was that the pair of them had been at a Dinner of a lodge of Freemasons in Preston (Charles had been Grand Chaplain of England in 1066 to the then Grand Master of the Earl of Scarborough) and had gone straight out on the moor to meet the lads coming in to complete the exercise.

 

   When I became Master of my Lodge in Burnley I invited him to come along during my year in the chair to do a Dedication for us. This was 1985 when I believe he was 82 years old. Well, I couldn't believe it when he turned up in Burnley having driven himself from Budleigh Salterton in Devon at such a ripe old age, knowing he had both hips replaced, cateracts removed from both eyes, a hernia repaired and part of his bowel removed. I expected him coming by train and someone to collect him from the station. Not him. He had a superb evening with my Lodge, many old friends from his days in East Lancashire coming along to see and hear him speak.

 

   He requested potato pie and peas and apple pie and we obliged him. He had quite a few whiskeys and had a great time amongst old friends culminating with myself taking him to Palace House in Burnley very late  at night to stay with the then Bishop, Richard Watson, who was a very quiet man. Charles of course, full of evening jollification and glee and quite loud woke the whole of the neighbourhood up when greeting Dick Watson at the front door with a loud "good evening Dick". Dick quickly grabbing him and dragging him in doors to avoid all the local curtains being opened to see what the commotion was.

 

   Charles really was a lovely man and a great character and most respected by myself and many who came to know him from all walks of life. From a small boy looking up and respecting him to a man now of much more mature age as a friend and companion who I have enjoyed many happy hours with he is most sadly missed. I am sure he will be bellowing away in his place in heaven. Sadly Bishops do not seem like he and his companions Bishops were in days gone by, a feeling I have is a great loss to the Church of England today

 

 

From Canon C E Bramley

 

 

   My abiding memory of him is that he was a man with a presence. You knew you had a Bishop at the head of things. He joined me and two friends for a golfing holiday at Llandudno on one occasion. When he putted his ball with a few feet of the hole he'd say; "You'll give me that". Normally that would never happen, but with him we conceded!!

 

 

From Rev W F Browning

 

 

   By the Act of Uniformity of 1662 the use of Latin was authorized for services held by the Convocations of both provinces, and when they were revised in 1852/1861 the proceedings were always inaugurated by the Litany said in Latin, and it became the custom that it should be read by the most junior diocesan bishop. So when Charles was translated from Warrington to Blackburn in 1960 the duty of the York Convocation fell on him and he viewed the prospect (unusually for him) with no little trepidation; so he asked me whether we could go through the whole litany together by way of preparation.

 

   We first discussed which pronounciation he preferred; the English, or the classical (Oxbridge 1870) or the "Ecclesiastical" (Italian), and he opted for the first. However, Charles still retained a dim memory of Latin learnt at Monkton Combe School before going up to Queens' College Cambridge, and no doubt there were also the words of Latin anthems sung in Liverpool Cathedral ringing in his ears, so the eventual result was a mishmash of pronounciations and as a coach I was completely hopeless. Charles was relieved when another Bishop had been appointed, and I guess the performance was torture for Michael Ramsay!

 

 

From Leo Stephens-Hodge

 

 

   I had been told that Charles Claxton was a fast driver and I actually experienced it when he drove me and Dr Williams down the motorway to attend a special gathering of doctors and clergy in St George's House, Windsor Castle. We got there successfully, and it was a priviledge to meet folk like Charles's own brother Ernest, then secretary of the BMA, and Dame Cicely Saunders, founder of the Hospice movement. It was the two brothers who had called the conference together. But it was when he came to pick me up at Brindle Rectory that Charles found himself looking over our garden wall at Sally, our beagle, proudly displaying her litter of half a dozen gorgeous puppies, and I think that must have steadied his nerve, as it steadied mine, for the journey that lay ahead.

 

 

From Canon J W Dixon

 

 

   In the late 1950's one or two of us from the Blackburn Diocesan Youth Committee attended a Church of England Youth Council conference in Oxford. Bishop Claxton of Warrington resided at some of the sessions, particularly at one which was addressed by Sir John Hunt, leader of the Everest expedition.

 

   Sir John gave a full account of the Duke of Edinburgh's Award Scheme which had been commissioned by the Duke to launch and administer. The talk was followed by discussion, and then the Bishop expressed the thanks of the Conference to Sir John, assured him that the Scheme would be warmly welcomed and supported by the Church, and that he himself would value it not least for what he felt sure that it would be able to do to save the more pansified type of server! The Bishop could always be relied upon to say the obvious things eloquently, but almost always there would be a special slant of his own, which was distinctive and original, and which gave to what he said some of the force of his own character.

 

   Bishop Claxton's vigour was proverbial. Nobody knew this better than those who shared in the apprentices' courses at Whalley Abbey. These could involve night exercises on Pendle Hill, scaling crags and quarries, crossing streams or lakes on makeshift bridges and rafts. In all these activities the Bishop was likely to take part. Not was it only in this sort of situation that his physical energy became evident. The final cross which surmounts the Cathedral spire was dedicated at a service inside the Cathedral;it was then taken out into the close, hoisted with ropes, and set in place by steeplejacks who swarmed up the spire like the old-fashioned monkey on a stick. The Bishop was determined to see the job done from the closest possible range. It was a bleak and cheerless day, but he had no hesitation in discarding his cassock and clambing the ladder to the top of the lantern while younger men were content to watch from the ground!

 

   The Bishop never professed great theological learning, but he knew the important writers, was alert to what they were saying and liked to be kept informed about them. He had Examining Chaplains at Oxford and Cambridge, and these were always invited to an annual chaplain's meeting. He had always worked at his own faith, and never ceased to do so. But there was about it a simplicity which was wonderfully refreshing. He believed firmly in the ministry of guardian-angels. He know his own angel as Robert, and enlisted his aid in all sorts of situations. He might be on his way to a meeting or a service in Liverpool or Manchester, probably with little time to spare, and would say to Robert, "I'll need somewhere convenient to park" and always he found somewhere  which was just right. I often had the experience of travelling as a passenger in his car. I remember coming back with him from Whalley to Blackburn in thick fog. His technique was to find the cat's eyes in the middle of the road, and to press on regardless. It was comforting to know that Robert was in charge!

 

 

 

From Ven Raymond Roberts, another close friend of Charles, who I met at the House of Lords once and who displayed the same amazing sense of humour as my grandfather. This is one of my favourites!

 

 

   Charles had a lifelong passion for the Royal Navy and asked his bishop to release him for service as an RNVR Chaplain when the 1939-45 war broke out. The bishop refused and Charles (though he was always immensely suuportive and hospitable to any NAval Chaplain who came alongside him) never formally involved in the life of the Service until he reached the age of 74.

 

   By that time he had retired  from Blackburn and was living alife of quite astonishing vigour in Budleigh Salterton. He had, for example, one friend who was about fifteen years older than himself but who still enjoyed dining with his Livery Company in London. Charles, who loved London life and frequently himself gave memorable parties in the House of Lords, would drive the 90 year old to Exmouth station and they would catch the local train to Exter, transferring there in their dinner jackets in the middle of the afternoon to what they still called "the express" train. They would dine well in London, catch the midnight train back to the West Country, take a taxi in Exeter and collect the car in Exmouth to arrive home with the dawn. On one such occasion, a policeman became interested in the sight of two such venerable figures out and about in Exmouth in all their ginery at such an hour and enquired after their well-being. They thanked him warmly for his solicitude and explained that they had been dining in Town...and the policeman went off, quietly shaking his head as he pondered the complexities of life..

 

   Raymond Roberts was appointed Chaplain of the Commando Training Centre, Royal Marines, at Lympstone (just over the hill from Budleigh Salterton) in 1975 and almost at once was bidden to St Martin's where he instantly became "Ray". He had first met Charles when, at the age of 16, he took p[art in a young people's summer conference at Scarisbrick Hall, near Southport, where the Chaplain was a newly-appointed Bishop of Warrington. Since Charles never forgot anyone he ever met, his welcome to a Nacal Chaplain (as Ray had become) was doubly warm because he at once recalled their first meeting nearly three-and-a-half years earlier; and their subsequent escapades over three-and-a half years added greatly to the colour of life's rich tapestry in East Devon.

 

   The summer of 1976 remains memorable for its endless sunny days and Charles adored swimming and fishing. Ray would be telephoned and asked to meet Charles (immediately!) to embark upon one or other of those pursuits; and, having explained that he did actually have a job to do, would meet Charles at five - usually to strike out manfully for France or else to haul in so many mackerel that all the pensioners of Budleigh Salterton had to be given fresh fish for their suppers. On one such occasion they were half-way across the English Channel when Charles (ahead as always) suddenly erupted from the water somewhat after the fashion of a Polaris missile. Fearing the worst, Ray caught up with him and enquired about the nature of the problem. "I shouldn't be here!" complained Charles. "I have just remembered. I am supposed to be crowning the carnival queen in the village of Otterden!" His hard-working guardian angel was, as ever, on his side and the ceremony was not actually due to begin for another forty minutes. All maritime records were broken for their return to the shore and Ray's very fast Capri was kept revving outside St Martin's while Charles took a quick shower and emerged, looking magnificently pontifical, swathed in purple and with his still-drying silver mane curling splendidly as they screeched to a halt in Otterton about one and a half minutes before he was due to preside over the crowning.

 

   It was a superb evening and Charles was never happier than when in the company of a village community and, especially, children. The carnival queen was about eleven and was crowned with appropriate solemnity. It was then Charles' duty to make a speech, and perhaps unnerved by the velocity of his arrival, (though his own Jehu-like progression in his dreadful Datsun through the narrower lanes of Devon might, as well as putting the fear of God into all other road-users, have equipped him to cope with such eventualities), he unhappily got an odd word into his mind and his opening sentence absolutely rivetted the assembly.  " I am a gay person" he said, and all sound ceased for 3000 metres around. He seemed to be aware that something was not well, yet not knowing why, he pressed on. "When you are gay, there is nothing you like better than to be with lots of other gay people for an occasion of such gaiety as this evening." Mothers began to collect their children about them. Giggling teenagers gathered closer so as not to miss a syllable...and Charles moved onto safer subjects.

 

   On the way home later, he murmered wonderingly that his speech had seemed to have a strange effect on people and Ray had to explain that the word "gay" had acquired a new significance. Charles did not know that it had - and it made him sad to find out, for, as he had said, he meant not "happy" or "light-hearted" or "joyful " or "jolly" but "Gay" in its true sense. And of course he was right for he had grown up in a less complicated world. Then he bellowed with laughter as he savoured the stir he had so inadvertently caused.

 

   Inevitably, conversation with a serving Naval Chaplain kept Charles' love for the Navy stimulated and he offered his help in the Commando Training Centre in any ways in which it could be useful. He visited the Royal Marines for a Confirmation and his delight in the society of the young men, combined with his way of putting them instantly at ease in and out of church, gave Ray a sudden inspiration. He took up with the Chaplain of the Fleet (Archdeacon Basil O'Ferrall) the possibility that Charles might be appointed an Officiating Chaplain. Officiating Chaplains are clergymen and ministers who live in the neighbourhood of Naval and Royal Marines establishments and, usually in circumstances where numbers do no warrant a full-time Chaplain, are formally appointed to offer appropriate part-time ministrations. Ray proposed that Charles should be so appointed. The only problem was that he was in his mid-seventies and far above the permitted age-limit. But none of the usual rules ever applied to Charles Claxton and the Chaplain of the Fleet was persuaded (very willingly indeed) that if Charles were to be appointed HONORARY Officiating Chaplain, then the problem could be made to disappear. And so it was that, at 7, Charles joined the Navy at last.

 

   The consequences were wonderful. The Officer's Mess made him an honorary member and he and Jane would often appear for Sunday lunch there, always surrounded by the young officers with whom he  had such an immediate rapprochement and by gales of laughter. Ray would find reason for needing to be absent from time to time so that Charles could take so RE classes with the young Recruits - after which he always wanted to know when the Chaplain had to be away again and the young men always wanted to know when the Officiating Chaplain  would be teaching them the next time. Everything that he was spoke as clearly to them of the realities of the faith as the stories he told them about the God whose son he saw them all as being; and they never forgot each other. When Ray himself became Chaplain of the Fleet, Charles was one of the first to be told; and it was typical that he should at once write to him and enclose with his letter his own favourite much-used personal book of prayers. (In the Queen's Regulations for the Royal Navy, the Chaplain is described as "the friend and adviser of all on board". That, par excellence, was Charles Claxton.)

 

 

Charles, as his daughter Audrey has already pointed out, was no stranger to Australia, and indeed he seemed to make an impact there too. This is from Joan and Cliff Vernon of Western Australia

 

 

    The late Bishop Claxton came out from Budleigh Salterton, Devon, to relieve for 3 months the Collie parish in the South West of Western Australia. On one occasion he pulled up at a service station for fuel and politely asked the attendent "Although it might seem odd to you could you please tell me where the Anglican Church is?" Of course the Bishop was in his usual attire. One must admire Bishop Claxton, he could mix with the highest and the poor were all treated alike.

 

 

From Enid Claxton (no relation).

 

 

   Charles was due to take a "locum" at Collie, a small coal mining town about thirty miles from Bunbury. He and Jane were being shown over the old Rectory, when he happened to go into the front sitting room. There, sitting on the hearth was a rather bedraggled magpie, which obviously had fallen down the chimney. (Chimneys in old houses in WA go straight up and down, one can look up and see a patch of blue sky at the top. No little Tom could get stuck in our chimneys). He hurriedly removed the bird before Jane saw it. Shades of Budleigh Salterton!

 

 

From Pamela Dracup

 

 

   I first got to know Charles and Jane through my mother who lived in Budleigh Salterton and who had gone on a trip to the Holy Land with Charles. Charles and Jane came and stayed at our chalet and caravan park holiday resort in Busselton in the south-west corner of Western Australia in the 1970's during their visits to Audrey and her family. His great humanity and sense of humour, to say nothing of his little giggle - are amongst my first impressions of this truly lovely man. Actually he had to have these qualities to enjoy making return visits to our simple un-self-contained chalets where he seemed to be quite at home in such a rustic setting. In 1978 we sold the business and moved to Perth, and we often had the great pleasure of accommodating them for a few nights on their way to and from Audrey.

 

   I used to visit my mother in Budleigh Salterton during the 1980's. I have so many treasured memories of incidents that occurred during my stays at St Martins. There was always warmth and love and compassion for everyone, and his sense of humour was ever present. It was an easy relaxed relationship we had, and it was always a great pleasure to be able to make myself useful to them when Jane's health deteriorated. A lasting memory is of the morning prayers seated on or around Jane's bed, and "Every Day With Jesus" readings. How aptly named they were!

 

 

From Mrs Bobby from Abbeyfield House, Repton

 

 

   Having met Charles and Jane in New Zealand I met them again in England and invited them for a meal. However, on the day no visitors arrived and I could not contact them, so I gave the lunch to neighbours in a nearby cottage to mine and next morning took the bus to do some shopping. As I returned about 12pm, walking up the long drive I sensed that a car was following me. I found that it contained my dear friends Jane and Charles! I had to apologise and after sherry in my house I suggested that we go to the local pub, the Bull's Head, in Repton; which we did, but my beloved and social friend insisted on paying the bill before we parted and Charles and Jane drove onto Bolton!

 

 

From Peter Evans, a friend of Charles during his Blackburn days, but also linked to him through Charles association with Cambridge, where Charles had been an undergraduate.

 

 

   When Bishop Charles initiated the idea of an annual dinner for Queens College men in the North-West, probably some 25-30 years ago, he used to hold it on a Friday in Lent at his favourite hotel or club in Manchester, and began by saying grace, followed by an episcopal dispensation to eat, drink, and enjoy ourselves that evening, despite the Lenten season of denial!

 

 

From the Rev Canon C E V Bowkett

 

 

   Uncle Charles, as our children were wont to call him, frequently stayed with us at the Rectory when visiting London. He arrived late one night and the following morning at breakfast was confronted by our young daughter (aged six) demanding to know why he was not in a box in church. Charles explained to he that the box was called a pulpit and that he was not always able to stay and preach at a service. However, she persisted, "I thought you were in a box in church". Suddenly we realised that she was recalling a funeral she had attended a few weeks earlier of an old parishioner named Sophie BISHOP!

 

 

From Bishop John Waine, the Bishop of Chelmsford, who was another close personal friend of Charles.

 

 

   The last time I saw Charles Claxton was at the House of Lords shortly before he died. We bumped into each other unexpectedly and of course I was delighted to see such an old and very dear friend. "Charles" I exclaimed, "how lovely to see you. Pat and I were only speaking of you yesterday. " Speaking of me yesterday" he boomed, I speak of you every day!

 

   I knew what he meant. Charles Claxton was to so many a very special and dear person. Moreover he was one who never neglected to pray for his friends. I first knew him from my days as a curate in Liverpool and over many years was grateful for his friendship, encouragement and prayer.

 

 

From Wendy Carter, niece to Charles

 

 

  Dear Uncle Charles! He lived his faith with ebulliance and cared so much for everyone - the family meant everything to him and details of their well-being important - practical generosity and awareness of needs was always evident. Forever an oppurtunist I remember Granny (his mother) telling me that as a small boy he was somewhat restless during a lengthy church service. A kind old gentleman turned around and gave him a sweetie to keep him quiet - quite soon he tapped him on the shoulder "Dot annuver"?!

 

 

From Mary Thierens

 

 

   I remember Bishop C R Claxton very well. He was a kind man and I miss him very much. He was such a kind man when my mother was ill in ward 4, he used to come and watch over her when she was ill with her nerves. He told her he would pray for her. The Bishop's favourite hymn was "Rejoice the Lord is King", C Wesley.

 

  

 

My grandfather and grandfather retired to Budleigh Salterton in Devon 1971. We are lucky to have quite a lot of material on the years he and Jane spent in Budleigh. This next one is from Mrs R Mitchell

 

   Bishop Claxton told me the following amusing story in his retirement.

 

   He was invited by a local friend, a Colonel from Budleigh Salterton, to join him in the annual ceremony of Swan Upping on the river Thames. After a good day watching the ringing of swans on the Thames, accompanied by the consuming of "eats" and champagne, they arrived back at St David's station, Exeter, late at night in a happy state. The Bishop was driving, and they also gave a lift to a man who was stranded at the station. When they came to the traffic lights in Heavitree, the red light seemed to be stuck. After a few minutes with no traffic in either direction, they decided to cross.

 

   Immediately a Police Car arrived and stopped them, demanding to know who they were and why they had gone across the red light. "Well", said "Charles, "I am Bishop Claxton, this is Col. H. Smith of the Queen's Swan Keepers, and we have no idea who the chap behind is!" The policeman replied with the equivalent of "tell me another..." Needless to say there were laughs and red faces when the story was confirmed.

 

 

From Rev and Mrs Elsey

 

 

   When we moved into our present flat here in Raleigh Court he came to see us and gave us his Blessing. During an interegnum at St Peter's Parish Church the Bishop was asked to "marshall"the retired clergy who, together with himself, were helping to maintain the services, and he was indeed the ideal Father-in-God to us all. The Bishop was the founder and President of the East Devon Branch of the Retired Clergy Association, and as he had "invited" me to transport him in my car to a "meeting of retired clergy " I found myself coming away as a founder member!  He certainly did a very good thing in initiating the group, which has since consolidated and grown effectively.

 

   You may learn from another source of the dramatic incident in St Peter's Church when, towards the end of his time here, he was celebrating the Eucharist and as he left the sanctuary for the pulpit he tripped and fell headlong. Assistance was immediately at hand, and when he had recovered he was asked whether he would forgo the sermon. He replied in his characteristically determined manner, "Of course I shall preach!" We were not present on that occasion, but are assured that he prefaced his sermon with the remarks that he would certainly need the help of the Holy Spirit more than usual!

 

 

Words of advice from Charles to a friend:

 

   You will find much comfort in the Psalms. Try to read one each day and omit the ones that are dull and difficult!

 

A Prayer (R. Niebuhr)

 

   God grant us the courage to change the things we can, the serenity to accept the things that cannot be changed and the wisdom to know the difference.

 

(sent in by Val Freeman)

 

From Kathleen Deleer

 

   I met the late Bishop firstly when his home and furniture was on a removal van and I was then a manager for a local creamery here at Budleigh Salterton. He was worried about the removal men at lunch time and he came and asked me if I could tell him where to get sandwiches and a drink and I offered to do some for them all and he was delighted and from then on until he left here no matter where I was he always said that I was his very first friend in Budleigh. Little did I know that he was going to call each day when my husband had to have his leg amputated and such wonderful times we had until Tom died. He took a wonderful service in the church  and he came to see me and gave such comfort. This is what drew the parishioners to him was his sympathetic ways. When I suggested hymns for the crematorium he suggested to me to have something a little lighter. So we had "What a friend we have in Jesus".

 

    He used to love to have a pint, as he called it, with the village folk who used to drink in the Feathers. Dennis Drew the window cleaner would call down if the Bishop called up to him and Dennis would say "I'll be in in a minute", and it seemed the street was filled with joy and comradeship.

 

 

From R J C Hart

 

 

   Charles retired to Budleigh Salterton and was soon involved in the activities of the Diocese of Exeter and as an Assistant Bishop; he identified himself with local church activities to such an extent that he was widely known as "The Bishop of Budleigh Salterton". He was much in demand for many services, especially confirmations (he had almost a monopoly at the Royal Marine Commando Training Centre), but the invitation that I believe delighted him most was to bless the fishing fleet at Brixham. He remarked with a gleeful chuckle "I've never been asked to do this before."

 

   My first meeting with Charles, soon after he arrived in the diocese, was at  midnight mass on Christmas Eve in a nearby church during an interregnum. The prospect for a Reader of assisting a very senior retired bishop was daunting, but it took him only a few minutes to set me at east, and the subsequent service is a happy memory. It was the beginning of a friendship that I valued greatly.

 

   He enjoyed being part of the parish - he lived just across the road from St Peter's Church - and there is a splendid full length photograph in the vestry of him as he was about to process into the church. He was universally loved and respected and made many friends in the town. He seemed to know everyone in an incredibly short time and took a kindly interest in all their activities. His tall figure, often extremely casually clad for golf or sailing, could often be seen in the town as he did some shopping. He had a cheery greeting for everyone and his stentorian greeting across the course was a well-known accompaniment to a round of golf.

 

   Charles treated the disabilities associated with his advancing age philosophically and humourously and enjoyed telling stories against himself, especially in connection with his contact lenses. On one occasion when they were holidaying in Teneriffe he lost one lens while swimming; he recounted with glee the efforts of the search and how he tied his glasses round his head when he went into the sea thereafter.

 

   Charles retained a lively interest in church affairs, and his knowledge of Church House made his questions about our doings there more than usually well informed, often pointing a disdainful finger at the latest nonsense perpetrated by the General Synod, at which he was a frequent visitor. It was a great treat to be taken by him on these occasions to lunch at the House of Lords, where his boyish enjoyment of such delights as steak and kidney pudding and spotted dog seemed to be known by all the waitresses, whom he greeted as old friends.

 

   He was a wise and godly counsellor to many people of all ages.

 

 

From Ailyn Lyman

 

 

   My husband and I loved Charles dearly. He was always so very friendly, and used to uplift my husband (who was confined to bed) very much, especially as they usually had a whiskey together "a nice clean drink" Charles used to say. I had a lovely letter from Charles when Jack died, and he always called when in Budleigh Salterton. I miss him still. We were all very sad when he moved to Prestbury

 

 

Finally Charles and Jane moved to Prestbury, to a nursing home suitable for Jane's needs. I am particularly grateful to Wilfrid Knight for this outstanding contribution, with a remarkable ending.

 

  

   For me it all began about five years ago. Two of my Masonic friends, one living in Burnley and the other in a village in Hampshire within the period of 10 minutes telephoned me to tell me that Bishop Claxton had come to live in the village of Prestbury with his wife and was staying at the Beaumont Park nursing home. Both asked me to visit him and pass on their best wishes.

 

   I duly called him and expressed the opinion that he must be someone special with two telephone calls within ten minutes. He immediately invited me to have coffee the next day. And so started a short-lived friendship for my wife and myself which has made such a lasting impression on our lives. I did not meet Lady Jane on that occasion as she was in the nursing section of the home. Charles asked me to bring my wife to have tea with him.

 

   As I was leaving his appartment I noticed two hanging side by side on his back door. Each had a picture of a monk on it. Over the head of the monk on the left hand apron were the words "Drink is thine enemy", and over the head of the other it said, " Love thine enemy". Charles laughed and said, "Yes, that's me".

 

   On the appointed day and at the time suggested by him, his wife and I went to his appartment to take tea with him. He was not at home so we went to look for him. Eventually we found him on the front lawn at Beaumont Park, teaching the ladies how to play croquet.

 

   My wife was immediately drawn to Charles because of his love for his small garden and together they discussed plants, flowers and gardens at great length. This led on to giving him an invitation to visit us at our bungalow to see our garden. Such visits became more and more frequent as he went back and forth past our home on his way to Macclesfield, either hospital visiting or going shopping.

 

   At the end of October each year my wife and I go to our appartment on the island of Lanzarote and usually return home in time for Christmas. 1991 was no exception. We had told all friends including Charles, that we would be home on the 19th December at around 6pm. Shortly before 6.30pm as we were unpacking the telephone rang and my wife answered. It was Charles, welcoming us home and stating that he wanted to come for coffee on Saturday. Although my wife was aware that Christmas day was looming and that all our family was coming to lunch she of course agreed and enquired at what time we could expect him. He said that he had an appointment with the chiropodist in Macclesfield so could come before or after his visit there. In the end it was agreed that he should call on his way home, around 12 noon.

 

   That Saturday proved to be one of the wettest days we have ever experienced for a long time. It rained and rained and rained all morning. When the telephone rang at 10 minutes to 12 o'clock my wife answered and Charles asked to speak to me. He told me that as the weather was so dreadful on his way to the chiropodists he had switched on the windscreen wipers, heaters, blower, lights etc at full blast, so much so that the car had stopped and couldn't be started. Would I please come to help him? I asked where he was and he said that although he was phoning from the chiropodist's office he would walk back to meet me at his car. I told him to stay where he was and I would come to pick him up.

 

   I went across to one of our neighbours to borrow a set of jump leads as I guessed the car's battery was flat. Passing the entrance to West park I saw the car almost blocking the entrance. I collected Charles and came back to the car. On the opposite side of the road there were two pedestrians. I went over and asked if they would help me to push the car into the car park in West park to allow me to use the jump leads. They willingly agreed and we re-crossed the road. As we reached the car Charles was frantically searching his pockets. After a few seconds he turned to me and said, "Wilf, I've lost the bloody keys! When I asked where they were likely to be he said at the chiropodist's office. I thanked the two men for their offer to help and returned to recover the keys. As I walked in the receptionist said, "They're here".

 

   Once again we went back to his car and once again I asked a lone jogger to help me to push the car into the car park. Getting the cars into position I placed the jump leads on to his battery and started to affix the other ends on to my own. As I moved to put the second lead on to my battery there was a sudden flash. I realised what had happened. He had switched on his ignition ready to start his car once the leads were in position.

 

   Eventually we started his car. All the time the rain fell relentlessly and poor Charles looked like a drowned rat. He was soaked through to his skin. I told him to go straight home, get into a hot bah and put on some dry clothing; he could come for coffee on another occasion. "No", he said, " I must call and give something to your wife." I had no choice to disagree but advised that he was not to stay longer than necessary. My wife greeted us at the door and he handed her a letter. Thinking it was a Christmas card she thanked him, urged him to go home and change into some warm clothing. "Oh no, " he replied, You must open it before I go." She opened it and it contained an invitation from him to have lunch in the House of Lords in January 1992.

 

   He then left to go home. Two minutes later the doorbell rang and I answered it. It was Charles. "Would you believe it Wilf, I've lost my bloody wallet." On the way back from the chiropodist for the second time he had placed his wallet on the dashboard of my car.

 

   His son and daughter-in-law who also live in the village of Prestbury invited us to join them at their Bollin mews house for a Christmas eve drink. They were going with Charles to Midnight Mass in Prestbury church. We duly joined them around 9pm and had a drink and an enjoyable chat. As we were about to leave around 11 o'clock Charles must have raised his arm in a gesture of farewell, whereupon Pam exclaimed, "Papa, when you come to do the blessing at the end of the service tonight don't raise both arms because you have a big hole under your armpit."

 

   The great day to go to London arrived and we went to Prestbury station and then on to Macclesfield to catch the London train. It was a bitterly cold morning so we decided to stay in the waiting room untill the train arrived. Charles had his overcoat on and his warm purple scarf around his neck. After a few minutes a young man in his late twenties or early thirties entered and sat opposite to the three of us. He kept looking across at Charles, almost staring. Eventually he could contain himself no longer, came across and said to Charles, "Excuse me sir, but you do a good impression of a bishop." On being told by us that he was indeed a bishop the young man held out his hand and asked if he could please shake his hand as he had never before met a real bishop.

 

   On arrival at the House of Lords Charles announced that we should use the lift as he had no intention of climbing all those stairs. As we were entering the lift a voice behind us called out, "Charles how lovely to see you again." We turned round and found it was the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Runcie. Charles immediately said, "Will you please meet my friends Mr and Mrs Knight." We felt very humble indeed.

 

   Charles took us to lunch after providing us with a drink in one of the bars. We were given a menu card for the lunch on that day. Earlier we had discussed MP's we had known. One, well known to Charles, was Barbara Castle. As we were eating I noticed that Barbara had entered the dining room accompanied by Peter Walker MP. I remarked on this to Charles. He excused himself and went over to have a word with her. She seemed delighted to meet him again after what Charles said was many years.

 

   That day in London was one of the most memorable of our lives and we shall always be grateful to a very dear friend, sadly around no longer. A few weeks later David rang me to say that his father had died and a light went out of our lives.

 

   At the funeral service we noticed that one of the mourners was the young man we had met in the waiting room at Macclesfield railway station on the day we were taken to the House of Lords. After being invited by the family to join them for a cup of tea, we were pleased to meet this young man again. He said his name was Martin. We told him that we had only known him for a few years, but that he had made an immense impression on us. Martin said, "Can you understand what sort of an impression he had on me who only had the priviledge of knowing him for a few minutes?"

 

   I feel sure that if our churches could contain more people the like of Charles Claxton there would be greater congregations than, sadly, there are today.

 

 

Finally, from Mrs Josephine Cutts

 

 

   Once we were going into Macclesfield to do some shopping and we were talking of the difficulty of parking Uncle Charles said he had no problems at all in finding a parking place as he just asked "Robert" to find him a place, and he always did. I always found it very amusing that my uncle should ask such worldly thinks of an unworldy being.