The Commercialization of the Pilgrimage Site
ShrineThe Commercialization of the Pilgrimage Site is the conversion of the reported events at St. Joseph’s Church into a prospective engine of tourism and local growth. In Banfield, commercial ambition does not simply follow religious fervor: it helps organize and amplify attention to the supposed miracles. The novel traces a progression from tentative discussion of publicity and investment to crowds, organized pilgrimage, and the sale of religious souvenirs, while keeping the economic hopes distinct from the questions of belief and Church authority that surround them.
Economic Hopes and the Promotional Strategy
At first, George Southworth had not given the report from St. Joseph’s Church much credence or attention. Gerry Fenn’s account, followed by a conversation with Rodney Tucker, made him reconsider its potential scale. Southworth concluded that the story might develop into something much larger, and his response was also shaped by Banfield’s lack of economic opportunity. The Crown Hotel was busy in summer, but many guests used it mainly as a base for trips around Sussex or to Brighton and other south-coast resorts; Southworth believed the benefit to Banfield itself was limited. He and Tucker were willing to invest, but wanted a prospect of reasonable returns.
Their proposals made that economic interest concrete. Southworth wanted to open a modern hotel with more amenities than the Crown Hotel, or possibly a motel suited to passing traffic. Tucker imagined additional shops and inexpensive restaurants for families on day trips. Southworth also pointed to local land that could be developed, with the village spreading outward into a town. Fenn recognized the private financial benefit behind these plans, but the promoters did not treat economic gain as a reason to abandon the project. Tucker openly framed opportunity as something to seize, while Southworth argued that commercial renewal and religious renewal might coexist.
Southworth’s preferred publicity strategy was deliberate rather than simply sensational. Tucker wanted major national outlets to maximize exposure while the story was fresh. Southworth feared that a sudden surge of coverage would fade if nothing further happened, and preferred sustained attention through the local Brighton Courier. In his view, a local newspaper had continuing obligations to report—and, in the novel’s pointed formulation, to provide—stories capable of generating interest and trade. The plan depended on keeping the story present in public life, not only announcing it once.
From Reported Miracle to Pilgrimage
The promoters did not require universal belief to anticipate economic consequences. Fenn argued that whether he or Tucker believed Alice Pagett was less important than the number of people who would believe the story if it circulated widely. Such people, he reasoned, would want to visit St. Joseph’s Church. Southworth accepted the possibility that the reported event could draw visitors while also claiming that it might give Banfield a chance to escape decline and restore local faith. His use of the idea that a miracle could create faith linked the village’s material prospects to a religious interpretation, without removing the evident financial interests involved.
The shift from possibility to mass attention became visible when Alice was said to have been told that the Lady wanted to see her again on Sunday the twenty-eighth. Before the service, traffic and activity in the village were unusually heavy for a cold, wet Sunday. Gerry Fenn arrived with Sue and Ben, carrying a camera and a microcassette recorder in case something happened. At the church pathway, they encountered a packed crowd. Some visitors were pilgrims or believers; others were simply curious. Fenn also noticed people accompanying sick or disabled relatives, whose hopes made the gathering more than a tourist spectacle. The crowd had a shared expectation, but its members did not all appear to be seeking the same thing.
After the Sunday gathering, Banfield’s reported cures and Alice’s alleged levitation produced a much larger response. Southworth, who had attended, was unsure whether he had seen Alice rise, but regarded the cures as undeniable. He noted that five people had illnesses confirmed by doctors and hospital records. The reported improvements were not all complete: the person whose cataracts cleared still lacked perfect vision, though his sight was improving, and the boy with impaired mobility still had difficulty walking without help. For Southworth, these qualifications did not prevent the story from becoming worldwide news. Press, television, and magazine representatives arrived, and the village experienced an unfamiliar surge of activity.
Organizing the Sacred Crowd
The growing pilgrimage required both a place to gather and a way to manage the gathering. By the later open-air Mass, the field had a newly constructed entrance and rows of benches around a central altar. Seats nearer the altar filled early, while areas were reserved for Church and other dignitaries and for religious associations. Stewards, ushers, and additional young priests helped marshal the congregation. Wheelchairs were difficult to move across the churned ground, and the ushers recognized that future gatherings would need an area set aside for invalids. These arrangements show the practical infrastructure accumulating around the claim of a sacred event.
The crowd’s scale also unsettled the people responsible for the service. Monsignor Delgard saw thousands of expectant faces, including sick people and families who looked to Alice with hope. He worried that the earlier events could not be repeated and prayed that disappointment would not damage their faith. His concern contrasts with the promoters’ interest in the crowds as evidence of Banfield’s new prospects. Bishop Caines, by contrast, considered the possible consequences for the Church in England if Alice had truly been blessed. His interest indicates that the gathering had become an institutional concern as well as a local one.
The procession further joined religious ceremony to public presentation. By the time it approached, many called the field the Field of the Holy Virgin. Bishop Caines led, followed by priests, nuns, and Alice, while a broadcast team prepared shots of the altar, the congregation, and the tree behind it. The report described thousands arriving from Banfield and from farther away, including people who said they had not previously held deep religious beliefs. The scene makes the pilgrimage legible to people beyond the field, even as technical interference disrupts the broadcast. Sacred space, organized attendance, and media representation operate together, but the presentation remains vulnerable to events it cannot fully control.
Souvenirs, Tensions, and Limits
Commercial activity around the gatherings extended beyond proposed hotels and village development. Gerry Fenn and Nancy Shelbeck saw makeshift stalls selling small religious objects and images, with a Mr. Whippy van attracting customers. Elsewhere, goods included containers presented as holding holy soil, plastic Marian figures, candles, a small shrine incorporating a newspaper image of Alice, and a doll that played part of a prayer. These items adapted familiar devotional imagery to the sudden attention around Banfield. They also made the claimed holiness available for purchase, turning the field and its story into a market for visitors.
The narrative does not treat every visitor as a consumer, or every believer as a promoter. Some came in the hope of healing; others wanted to see Alice or to be near what they understood as holiness. At the same time, the commercial plans were not merely incidental to the pilgrimage: Southworth and Tucker explicitly connected attention to investment, accommodation, shops, restaurants, land development, and trade. Their ambitions relied on the same public interest that drew pilgrims, while the expectations of the sick and their families raised moral stakes that business calculations could not resolve.
Nor did local enthusiasm amount to formal Church recognition of Banfield as a shrine. Southworth expected that the publicity would make the site a destination even if the Church refused to proclaim it one, and he anticipated that the Church might eventually have to cooperate with the parish council. The bishop’s willingness to consider the consequences and Delgard’s unease show that ecclesiastical responses remained unresolved. The commercialization of the pilgrimage site therefore develops as a negotiation rather than a completed transformation: Banfield’s promoters try to turn religious attention into lasting prosperity, while pilgrims, clergy, and media give that attention meanings and pressures beyond the control of any single plan.