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FROM SHAMAN TO SHOWMAN

The harrowing history of Harold Davidson, Rector of Stiffkey, 1875 – 1937

Here follows a story of clerical depravity,
The like of which is seldom seen in terms of carnal gravity,
Of vocation misdirected, of seductive Sirens calling,
Of catastrophic consequence and nemesis appalling.

Our protagonist-priapic in this lurid moral parable
Is the Reverend Harold Davidson of Stiffkey, south of Dunstable,
A sleepy Norfolk village, which was not remotely shocked
To hear that their ‘Incumbent’ had been summarily defrocked
For ‘conduct unbecoming’ and ‘licentious, lewd behaviour’
For ‘bringing shame upon the name of Jesus Christ, Our Saviour’
This Rector-defector, it transpired, had lavished pastoral care

Not on the souls of Stiffkey in penitence and prayer,
But on the nymphs of theatre land (he was a true West Ender!)
Yes, chorus girls, contortionists were top of his agenda!
Alas, enough was soon enough, for even the C of E;
But not for Harold; he'd re-direct his chosen ministry.

A showman to the end, it seems, he'd shed his plain apparel
And preached from Blackpool's famous pier INSIDE a brewers' barrel;
Held forth on sin, damnation, within a huge gas oven,
While ‘Satan’ fuelled the fires of Hell to cries from witches' coven.
But even this was far too tame for this outrageous showman.
He'd slake his thirst for fame and make his name by going truly Roman;

Re-live the Book of Daniel, be lionised at last.
The world of bread and circuses would be his real repast.
He turned his back on Blackpool, re-located to Skegness
And joined a travelling circus troupe with righteous recklessness -
Not as a clown, he sought renown between the jaws of danger.

‘A lion-taming defrocked priest!’ Could anything be stranger?
Along the windswept Skegness prom, agog with expectation,
The crowds did swell – the Rector's biggest ever congregation.
The lions, as it happened, had their own beloved trainer,
The sweet sixteen Claudette Colline, a ravishing Ukrainer.
Imagine for one moment, please, the lions' jealous rage
As Stiffkey's fearless finest appeared inside their cage,

Looked set to clasp the fair Claudette – and I'm quoting now verbatim:
‘Toto and Freddie took umbrage and, quite blatantly, they ate 'im’
A meal so sacramental at the table of the Lord
So sanctified their spirits that they fell asleep and snored.
The moral of this fable? Beware the lure of fame.

As the Reverend was lionised, your fate might be the same!

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