I don’t know what Brother Jowan told you about me, but I assure you very little of it is likely true. That man exists purely to taunt me and he tells the other villagers lies about me all the time just to turn them against me. Luckily, most people don’t believe him. Every Sunday, my congregation is larger than his.
He’s petulant too. Did you know he only wanted to be on the council because I was on it? Isn’t that childish?
I confess to being a deeply flawed human and that monk, priest or whatever he is, tends to bring out the worst in me. He makes me far angrier than anyone or anything else.
But let us talk about something else.
I see you have a drink. Good, good. I don’t usually partake but I rather like some of the beer served in The King’s Head.
As you can tell from my attire, I am a puritan. A gatekeeper of Christ’s church on Earth. You may tell from my accent that I am not from around here. I’m from Surrey, a small village you probably haven’t heard of just outside Guildford. I’d be surprised if it hadn’t been swallowed up by the city itself now.
I found favour among some close friends of Oliver Cromwell. It was on his direct order that I came to Salmonweir to take charge of the church. This is a particular point of pride for me because it was the only time I ever met The Lord Protector and to have had such trust placed in be based on the word of others…
Pride is a sin. I mustn’t let that get the better of me. I thank God for putting me in the right place at the right time for these events to have taken place.
I replaced the vicar who’d fled the church. He was a royalist and thought he would leave before he was forcibly ejected or recalled to London for trial. Nobody knows what happened to him. Did he flee to France to be with his king? Did he move to another part of the country and take on another trade? I do now know. All I do know is that I arrived in a village with no vicar and missing spiritual counsel. It was all chaotic and thankfully, peace and harmony restored.
I never did return to Surrey. I was ki- I died here a few years later while still vicar of the church. In total, I think I was here for three years between 1652 and 1655.
That’s enough of a history lesson from me. If you ever want to talk religion or anything else, my door is always open. You might need to call ahead as I’ve taken up an unusual hobby recently.
Nothing too strange. You may read about it in our upcoming book. Don’t forget to buy a copy before you leave!