The parish church, dedicated to Saint Mary and Rhadegund, stands at the junction of the Godshill, Ventnor and Niton roads and is, within and without, on of the glories of the Isle of Wight. Curiously enough, there was no ancient parish of Whitwell, but the present chancel and nave, dedicated to Saint Rhadegund, belonged to Gatcombe, originally for the use of the Estur tenants, while the later south aisle of Saint Mary was a chapel-of-ease to Godshill. In 1515, however, as a result of earnest appeal by the villagers, Bishop Fox appointed a permanent resident priest, though it was insisted that all burials must take place at one or other church. Whitwell suffered from renewed amalgamation in 1730, this time with Godshill and Niton; but it happily, regained its independence n 1867.
Saint Rhadegund was the patron saint of the Estur family; hence her presence at Whitwell. She was a German princess who was taken captive to France at an early age and compelled to marry Clotaire, King of Soissons, at 18. Hating the dissolute life of the court, she devoted most of her time to the poor and suffering around her, and, on her brother being violently put to death, she claimed her liberty, taking the veil at Poitiers in 594. Declining the office of Abbess, Rhadegund, who brought much treasure with her, insisted on performing the most menial duties, and loved best to care for the lepers. When nearly 70 she died “honoured in life and mourned in death”.
No longer can the holy well, to which the pilgrims once thronged, be seen, though the bridle path to Wroxall passes close by its site. The good saint was particularly accessible for the curing of insanity, and many there must have been “possessed with devils” and “lunatic” who found their way to this shrine of healing. Incidentally it is of interest to know that there is still at Poitiers a priest whose task it is to offer at Saint Rhadegund Chapel in that city prayers for those who are sick in mind.
The famous statue of Our Lady of Whitwell, the other objective of ancient pilgrimage, stood in Saint Marys aisle of the church, possibly in the identical position of the statue there today.
When one first enters Whitwell Church one is conscious of a dark depth of mystery and peace, enchanted, if the day is early in the week, by lingering aroma of incense. Here is a veritable holy of holies, a building without, perhaps, the architectural claims of Godshill or Shalfleet, but oh how satisfying as one gazes up those two wide aisles, each one redolent with the prayers on prayers of ages. The oldest part, only brought to light in 1868, is the 12th century chancel pier. The original Romanesque church consisted simply of a nave and chancel, and it is possible that a north aisle, as at Niton, was added shortly after, though there are no foundations left to endorse this theory. The south aisle, Saint Mary’s, was added in the middle of the 13th century. Many restorations have taken place at various times, the most important being those of the 16th century when the south aisle was widened and the two chapels thrown together, having previously been separated by a firm dividing wall. The fine stone-ribbed south porch, roofed with Purbeck slabs, and the tower complete this very thorough “tidy-up”.
On the wall of the south chapel there is a curious painting in a frame depicting the exceedingly drastic martyrdom, by disembowelment, of a saint. The presence of a possible gridiron suggests that the victim was Saint Lawrence, though several other guesses have been hazarded. The painting is a copy of a fresco found here, under 12 coats of whitewash, in 1868, which, after a short exposure to the air almost literally crumbled to dust.
The alter-table of this chapel is good early Jacobean work. On it is the inscription; “I will take the cup of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord”. The well-carved pulpit, for which the church wardens paid the princely sum of 51s.,is of slightly later date.
The lovely rood screen, stretching right across the church, and the very pleasing stained glass windows are modern. At the west end a large and ancient bell stands on the floor. It is useless owing to a wide crack, inflicted on it by a sacrilegious drunkard.
The churchyard is a fair beautiful God’s acre. In it is at least one tombstone to a centenarian, Whitwell has had several. At a corner overlooking a bend of the road a beautiful wooden cross stands as a monument to a choir boy who was drowned, when bathing, at the age of 12, and on it are inscribed, with unusual appropriateness, the words; “When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee”.
Transcribed from “The Village and Parish of Whitwell” by Alan C Tarbat, 1938.
