Various - The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 362, March 21, 1829

For twenty days my poor master remained in a low and distressed state. He told me he felt no pain; but this was spoken only to comfort me, for he saw I was dispirited. His sufferings must have been acute. During this time he was gradually, but perceptibly, declining; his body, from being robust and vigorous, became weak and emaciated, and indeed was little better than a skeleton. I was the only person, with one exception, he saw in his sickness. Abderachman, an Arab from Fezzan, came to him one day, and wished to pray with him, after the manner of his countrymen, but was desired to leave the apartment instantly. His sleep was uniformly short and disturbed, and troubled with frightful dreams. In them he frequently reproached the Arabs aloud with much bitterness; but being an utter stranger to the language, I did not understand the tenor of his remarks. I read to him daily some portions of the New Testament, and the 95th Psalm, which he was never weary of listening to, and on Sundays added the church service, to which he invariably paid the profoundest attention. The constant agitation of mind and exertions of body I had myself undergone for so long a time, never having in a single instance slept out of my clothes, weakened me exceedingly, and a fever came on not long before my master's death, which hung upon me for fifteen days, and ultimately brought me to the very verge of the grave. Finding myself unequal to pay that attention to my master's wants which his situation so particularly required, I solicited and obtained his consent to have old Pascoe once more to assist me. On entering the hut, he fell on his knees, and prayed to be forgiven, promising to be faithful to my master's service. Master immediately pardoned him, and said he would forget all that had passed, if he conducted himself well: by this means the washing and all the drudgery was taken from my shoulders, and I was enabled to devote all my time and attention to my master's person. I fanned him for hours together, and this seemed to cool the burning heat of his body, of which he repeatedly complained. Almost the whole of his conversation turned upon his country and friends, but I never heard him regret his leaving them; indeed he was patient and resigned to the last, and a murmur of disappointment never escaped his lips.

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The steeple of the church, which is 150 feet high, is shingled, which is the prevailing mode of the village churches in Sussex. It has also one of the finest windows in Sussex.