It lies in the midst of some of the finest down scenery on the Island, and when we called its sloping street was a lovely sight, with great bushes of fuchsia hanging their tassels like crimson bells over grey garden walls, a brook babbling below along its stony bed. It is sheltered by St Catherine's Hill.

We come into the church, which has Norman and mediaeval walls, under a yew reaching over the path. The tower, with a little stone spire, is probably 16th century. The church has a 14th century porch, a big Norman font with a band of moulding, slightly pointed arches on round pillars about 700 years old, and a chancel of the 15th century. On the wall is a memorial to a friend of the village whose portrait is here by Flaxman; with it is a relief showing a woman holding young pelicans in her hand, while the mother bird is on her nest feeding them. The battlemented modern reredos is glorious in painted and gilded oak, with Christ in majesty attended by angels. In canopied recesses inlaid with gilt mosaic are oak figures of saints. There are three old chairs, a French one of the 16th century and two Jacobean.

The churchyard has a modern cross mounted on the steps of the old one; and in this peaceful place sleeps Edward Edwards, who lived through most of the 19th century and is remembered as one of the founders of public libraries. High on the downs is seen the mediaeval lighthouse, where for generations a solitary priest kept a light burning for ships in trouble on this treacherous coast.

Text courtesy of: Southern Life (UK)