East end of St Matthew's, Douglas, Isle of Man, 1890-99 (b/w photo)

On the back of this photograph John James Frowde writes, "The East end of St Matthew's just before the Church was taken down. I played for 8 pm communion there, to oblige Canon Taggart for a time (1895 and 6, I think) - longer possibly - 1897, till just before the Church was closed - and one Sunday morning at 11, heard TEB preach the last sermon he was to preach in Mann. It was a characteristic utterance. No text: he just folded his arms on the closed Bible, and spoke in a cooish-like conversational manner for about twenty minutes to a rapt crowd of listeners. He had been announced to preach and the old building was packed. The Revd T A Taggart was ordained in the USA. I well remember his father, Paul(?) Taggart a Wesleyan local preacher, and a fine old chap. I recall, about 1887 leaving the Rev R G Brearey, sometime vicar of Laxey (Chaplain then, more likely) say to his brother, whose 1st apprentice I was, 'When a Methodist decides to change over to the established Church, he usually becomes a ritualistic high churchman.' The remark meant nothing to me then, but, in the light of later experience, I have realised he was not far wrong. My first acquaintance with Hugh Selwyn Taggart would be about 1879 (or 8). One day, at the Grammar School, word was passed in that Frowde was wanted in Fulton's parlour, (in the house part adjoining the School building). I proceeded thither and found with Mr Fulton, a boy of little under my own age, and a pathetic little lady, with dark brown eyes who was dissolved in tears, and in a distressed condition. Fulton introduced me to Mrs Taggart and her son Hugh: then, much to my dismay, he confided Hugh to my care and protection. At that time, amongst that rough crowd, it took me all my time to protect myself. However, a few of the bigger lads, George McCannon especially, were well disposed towards me, and I enlisted their considerate help in smoothing the path of the gently nurtured Hugh. And successfully. A few years back, when I commenced jotting down my reminiscences of my earlier days, when noting the above occurrence, it suddenly struck me that Fulton (much as I stood in fear of him), must have had a pretty good opinion of me to have chosen to pick me out as Hugh Taggart's 'help in time of trouble'. And I have the idea that Hugh still bears those strenuous days in mind. When I meet him during his infrequent visits to the Isle, he has a trick of putting his arm round my neck, and addressing me as in the old days long ago at school. A fine fellow and a man's man. Own plate." Prior to demolition in 1899