A Grave Encounter

On a recent guided walk around Vauxhall one of the stops was a park which used to be a burial ground. It's shown near the top of this 1817 map as 'New Burial Ground', by which time it wasn't so new, having been opened for that purpose in 1703.

Detail from Darton's New Plan of the Cities of London and Westminster and Borough of Southwark, c. 1817 (mapco.net)

The burial ground filled up and was closed in 1853. The land was sold and eventually conveyed to the Lambeth Borough Council. In the late 19th century it was landscaped into a recreation ground and the gravestones moved to the boundary walls. Don't ask me what they did with the bodies 'cause I don't know.

Grave markers which were moved to the periphery of the recreation ground

If you've read my blog for any length of time you'll be aware of my interest in historic cemeteries. The day I volunteered to do garden clean up at Highgate Cemetery, the tour I took of Kensal Green Cemetery, the stunning view of London from atop the hill at Greenwich Cemetery and the fact that I just enjoy poking around ancient headstones and wondering about the people beneath them is sufficient to justify my status as 'geek'. Not only that, but when you're looking for a truly peaceful and quite spot in a bustling city like London, a cemetery is where you'll find it.

Well, there I was, on a beautifully bright sunny day, sufficiently intrigued as to why this plot of ground in Vauxhall was so radically altered rather than letting everyone lie in peace, snapping a few photos so that I might go back later and study it some more when another member of the walking party admonished me to "have some respect".

Beg pardon?

I was so taken aback that I didn't say anything. Perhaps I should have inquired of him why he thought photographing the stones was disrespectful, when they obviously have not been cared for. Neglect, to me, is the ultimate expression of disrespect so he would have been better aiming his admonition at the borough council. My studies have lead to me to conclude that death was not viewed in the past as we view it now, life being much shorter and beset with disease, pestilence, and war. People were lucky to make it past their 40s, many did not expect to. I've also read of women taking rubbings of their beloved's grave marker as a keepsake; would that man tell them in their hour of grief that they were being disrespectful for doing so?

I didn't say anything but if I had it would be this: I am a garden historian. My job is to study the history of gardens and landscapes designed by humans. Pictures, be they sketches, engravings, maps, drawings, paintings, rubbings, etchings, or photographs are an integral part of that study. Burial grounds, be they large or small, are areas of land designed and created by man to serve a particular purpose, just like a public park or private garden. Some cemeteries have exquisite gardens and several around London can boast Grade I and II buildings and monuments constructed with incredible artistry and craftsmanship - skills in danger of becoming extinct - which makes them all fair game for the intrepid history sleuth out to, er, uncover the story behind a piece of landscape. If taking a photo of grave stones that were moved 100 years ago is disrespectful, what about the beautiful 19th century engravings of historic Highgate Cemetery?

Engraving of Highgate Cemetery c. 1858 (victorianweb.org)

Images like this have been invaluable in the restoration and conservation of the Highgate grounds. Are the photos I took of the family marker for Celia Fiennes in the name of historical research disrespectful? Or the pics of my grandparents' and great-grandparents' markers for geneological research? (I can answer that one: no, they didn't mind. They were probably really happy to see me.)

Detail of the grave marker for Nathaniel Fiennes, his wife, two daughters who died in infancy, and daughter Celia (yes, I took the photo)

Actually, I can't see how taking photos of a grave marker would be disrespectful if the intent is for information gathering and study, and especially for conservation and presevation measures when those photos may be the only existing record of a site or feature. I can't begin to count the number of times I've been to a cemetery or inside a centuries old church where the names of those interred beneath the stones has been worn off either by the thousands of footsteps that have trod over them, by wind and weather or worse, vandalism. Heck, every time I grab a snack at Cafe in the Crypt I find myself apologizing to those who may be lying beneath my chair and hoping that records exist somewhere so that their names aren't forgotten.

Grave stones in the floor of Cafe in the Crypt, St. Martins in the Fields at Trafalgar Square (yes, I took this one, too)

And really, when you stop to think about it, touring a cathedral results in the trampling of many a grave, some of them belonging to great worthies of history. Why, I've trodden on the graves of Jane Austen and Celia Fiennes, both historical figures for whom I have tremendous admiration, and both quite by accident, them being reposed beneath the floor and all. Some might consider this shuffling over the stones disrespectful but you gotta think: the people lying beneath those stones undoubtedly knew they would be walked over or knelt on and in those instances their names would be read and they would be remembered.

Where permitted I've happily snapped photos of the interiors of cathedrals and churches, tombs of long dead aristocracy, medieval effigies, grave stones on the floor and in the long grass, and intricately carved memorials. As for taking photos of them being disrespectful, what if, God forbid, the archives were lost? Restoration of any such space would be difficult, if not impossible, were it not for the aid of images. What if the church burned to the ground or some other natural disaster struck, like municipal development, that forever damaged or destroyed the markers intended to signify a person's final resting place? When I saw the marker for Celia Fiennes it was mounted on the wall but only because the church was rebuilt 100 years after she was buried so it effectually no longer marks her exact final resting place, which was beneath the stones of the church's floor. Besides, she was a progressive woman; I think she would have been intrigued by the curious device I was using.

Well, we know that bodies have been and continue to be moved, sometimes under horrific circumstances sometimes out of necessity, which is a helluva lot more invasive than snapping a photo of the marker from 10 feet away. So, to that person on the walk I say, I will - respectfully - continue to take photos of burial grounds when permitted and thank you very kindly for giving me such an appropriate blog topic for this spectral time of year. To celebrate, I give you a sampling of the frightening and fabulous architecture and artistry that are historic burial grounds, monuments and markers (all photos by me, except where noted, and all taken with the utmost respect).


Getting into Goth sprit at the Kensal Green Cemetery tour

 



Hooray for grassland conservation at Greenwich Cemetery



Greenwich Cemetery



The most beautiful military graveyard I've ever seen at Greenwich Cemetery



Early 19th century grave stone artistry at Cafe in the Crypt, London



At Kensal Green Cemetery



Kensal Green



18th century marker at Salisbury Cathedral



Monument at Highgate Cemetery



Medieval effigy at Salisbury Cathedral



The Gothic architecture of Salisbury Cathedral



Johannes Wordsworth at Salisbury Cathedral



Monument detail at Salisbury Cathedral



Hauntingly beautiful military marker at Salisbury Cathedral



Highgate Cemetery, London



Highgate Cemetery, London
 



Markers in the garden at Postman's Park, London
 



One of the touching plaques at the G.F. Watts's Memorial to Heroic Service at Postman's Park, London



Beautiful and ghostly image from Melbourne Cemetery, Melbourne, Australia (I didn't take this one but I know who did and it was fellow history enthusiast Claudia Funder).
 

Tomb marker for a member of the Austen family (relatives of Jane), St. Mildred's Church, Tenterden, Kent

Jane's marker at Winchester Cathedral (austenonly.com)



Detail of the memorial to Sam Wilson (d. 1918) by E. Caldwell Spruce, Lawnswood Cemetery, England (appythegardener.blogspot.com. See, I'm not the only one).

Happy Halloween!

Digging Amongst the Graves: Gardening at Highgate Cemetery

When I tell people that I enjoy poking around cemeteries the inevitable reaction is a pause, a startled sideways glance (no doubt seeking an avenue of escape), and cautious step back as they say, "Really??"

Really.

They can be fascinating places, cemeteries. Just think about all the history buried beneath your shoes. The really creepy ones provide endless inspiration for ghost stories and haunted fables. I don't go in for the blood-and-guts type stories that tinsel town churns out, but with a good imagination you can find mystery, intrigue, even romance.

Cemeteries and gardens have a lot in common. Cemeteries, like gardens, can be places of beauty designed to provoke an emotional response and the older ones are increasingly in need of care and management to maintain their spirit. So when the invitation to spend a day gardening with a volunteer group at historic Highgate Cemetery in north London presented itself, I signed on immediately! Even having perused the website, I was completely unprepared for the visions that greeted me.

Designed by architect Stephen Geary who appointed David Ramsey as landscape gardener, Highgate was opened in 1839 as part of a Parliamentary Act providing seven modern cemeteries (they were known as "The Magnificent Seven" back then) serving the London populace because the small church graveyards were becoming over-crowded and posed severe health hazards (ya think?).

Highgate is divided into two parts entered through the East Gate and West Gate respectively. Victorians much admired the new place and if it were appropriate to call a cemetery fashionable, Highgate became so (and when you think about it, by definition death is pretty fashionable. I mean, everyone does it...). Soon the land became a garden of Gothic graves with elaborate tombs and memorials sprouting up one after another. Situated on the side of a south-facing slope, it once commanded a majestic view of London.


Highgate, view from the terrace c. 1850 by R. Hind

Not so now.


Note, this is the same Cedar of Lebanon tree shown in the 1850 illustration!

Wikipedia states, "The cemetery's grounds are full of trees, shrubbery and wild flowers; all of which have been planted and grown without human influence", which is a polite way of saying it fell into a state of abandonment, decay, and near ruin. The sheep were no longer mowing the lawns, and the area began to revert to woodland. Self-sown ash, sycamore, holly, and oak trees struggle to take over, questing tendrils of ivy left unchecked made their way into tombs, disturbing the peaceful slumber of those within. Tree roots toppled monuments and swallowed up smaller, modest grave markers while invasive weeds that could tolerate the limited light from the canopy overhead choked out the grass and wildflowers.

With the onset of WW1 the men who maintained the immaculate grounds at Highgate were called up to action. Coupled with the desire for less elaborate and ostentatious funerals, the cemetery began to fall into a state of decline in the 1930s. Funds ran out in the early 1970's. In 1975 the Friends of Highgate Cemetery Trust was established and acquired ownership of the cemetery and it is they who now oversee management of the grounds. The cemetery is a Grade 1 English Heritage site and several of the chapels, monuments, tombs, and catacombs have also been listed.

A new management plan was adopted and is being tackled section by section with the view of maintaining the cemetery as a sanctuary for wildlife while preserving respect for the grave oweners, not a complete restoration to a Victorian cemetery (which would take millions of pounds and an army to accomplish). First a major clean up took place to remove fallen trees, dead wood, pruning up of low holly branches, and releasing statuary and sculpture from the ivy's embrace. The next phase included planting of native trees and shrubs such as Rowan (Sorbus aucuparia, appropriately known as the Tree of Life) and Ruscus aculeatus. Other hardy natives such as Carex pendula are controlled by thinning (the Collins Flower Guide notes the habitat of this particular sedge as 'damp woodlands on heavy soils, hedgerows, sides of ponds and stream.' I would like to add, 'grows happily over gravestones').

With light shining once again on the ground below, wildflowers have appeared and the blooms of Cow Parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris), Euphorbias, Forget-Me-Nots, Bluebells, and Scillas illuminate the landscape.

There is still much to be done, and it was heart breaking to see so many beautiful monuments shrouded in ivy that my Felcos were itching to have a go at the tangled stems but several of the stones have lead lettering embedded in them, and removal of the vines needs to be a slow and careful process to extract the invader and preserve the integrity of everything underneath. Surgery on the graves of the dead. What a thought! There is a delicacy that is required when working in such a densely populated area and it's a sure bet that when you feel the chunk of your spade on rock, the stone is some one's grave marker, not just a rock in the soil! It's also a sure bet that one reads way too many novels when one imagines the occupant of said grave raising the lid and mildly enquiring, "Do you mind? I'm trying to sleep!"


Volunteer work days are held once a month, and an organization called Go-London has gotten involved so that on the day I volunteered there were at least 20 of us hauling away dead brush, pulling weeds, rescuing the Ruscus, controlling invasives and bringing the place back to life, as it were.

Tours are offered to see the cemetery and if you're planning a day in London, I highly recommend it. Better yet, if you're a local, contact them and volunteer for one of the working parties. It was a great experience and a truly unique way to see one of the most mysterious and magical historical sites of London.