This is taken from an email that I received from Historic England about various heritage updates. It included an item on a particularly lovely lych gate which they have recently listed and I thought I would share it with you due to its history and associations.

A picturesque Victorian lych gate at St Giles’ Church in the village of Stoke Poges, Buckinghamshire has been listed at Grade II by the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) on the advice of Historic England, after an application was submitted by local man Harvey Whittam.

Harvey Whittam, Chairman of The Stoke Poges Society, had long admired the lych gate and recently applied to Historic England for it to be considered for listing. He said: “I first saw the lych gate in 1981 in the opening scene of the James Bond film ‘For Your Eyes Only’, when I thought it was beautiful and in a delightful country setting.

“Last year, I started volunteering with others to help to compile a list of historic sites in Stoke Poges for the Parish Council – it was then I realised again, but this time in real life, that it’s a fine structure. I am delighted the lych gate has received national recognition. There’s no doubt having it listed adds cultural, social and environmental value to the area.”

Link to famous poem

The wooden gateway and its flanking knapped flint wall stand prominently in the churchyard of St Giles, a setting associated with the poet Thomas Gray’s ‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’ published in 1751.

The elegy is said to be one of the best-known poems in the English language. Until relatively recently, it was routinely learnt by school children. It’s widely acknowledged to refer to Stoke Poges, where Gray was staying when he wrote the poem in 1750.

Gray is buried in the churchyard and his tomb is listed at Grade II. A nearby monument to Gray designed by James Wyatt and carved with verses of the elegy is Grade II* listed and is a National Trust site. St Giles’ Church itself is Grade I listed. The newly listed lych gate and boundary wall form an ornate entranceway to, and are part of, this group of significant historic structures.

I’m pleased that new, thorough research has enhanced our understanding of this beautifully carved lychgate, which now takes its place on the National Heritage List. 99% of people in England live within a mile of a listed place – we invite you to explore the List and share your knowledge and pictures so we can record information, and even unlock the secrets of some places.

Emily Gee, Regional DirectorHistoric England

Architect John Oldrid Scott

The lych gate also has special architectural interest in its own right. It is a well-preserved exemplar of its type by a leading architect of the period, with fine carved details. It was designed by the architect John Oldrid Scott and built in 1887 as part of an extension of the churchyard. Oldrid Scott was the eldest son of the architect Sir George Gilbert Scott, from whom he inherited the family practice in 1878. Oldrid Scott established himself as a leading figure in the development of the Gothic Revival in England in the last decades of the 19th century.

The low-set wall and ‘most beautiful lych-gate’ were paid for by a donation by Mr Gilliat of Duffield House, Stoke Poges, as noted in a letter to The Times from the then Rector of St Giles, Reverend Vernon Blake, published 22 November 1887.

The Stoke Poges lych gate has stylistic similarities with another designed by Oldrid Scott in 1880 that stands in the Churchyard of St Andrew and St Mary in Fletching, East Sussex – the lych gate is listed at Grade II.

However, Oldrid Scott is best known for his churches of the period, including St Mary’s Parish Church down the road in Slough which is Grade II* listed and the Grade I listed Greek Orthodox Cathedral of Aghia Sophia in Westminster, London.

What is a lych gate?

Lych gates are the ornamental gateways which lead to churchyards. They symbolise the threshold between the secular and sacred zones of a parish and once served a practical function of storing a coffin before burial. Their name derives from the Anglo-Saxon or German word for corpse: lich, or leiche.

Medieval lych gates were used as a meeting point and shelter for mourners. The group would convene beneath it and would be met by the priest prior to entering the consecrated churchyard for the funeral service. Lych gates continued to be built throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, and later examples, particularly after the First World War, were often erected as memorial structures.

©English Heritage 2022

What does a woman clinging to a cross, seemingly for dear life,   have in common with the film  ‘Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence’  and heavy metal group Def Leppard?

Strangely enough, the connection is an 18^th century Protestant hymn written by a fiercely Calvinist minister which has entered the Western cultural consciousness in the same way as ‘Abide With Me’.

‘Rock of Ages’ is a hymn with an enduring message of hope and ultimate salvation.  So no wonder it inspired a potent funerary symbol which is still used today.  However, it’s the second line in the third verse, ‘Simply to Thy cross I cling.’ that has proved most inspirational to Victorian monument masons.

A variant is a pensive young  woman  leaning on a cross for support as at West Norwood.  This cemetery contained several examples and here is a selection:

They’re not angels as they don’t possess wings and angels didn’t begin to appear in Victorian cemeteries until the late 19^th century.  But they are one of the few cemetery symbols inspired by a popular hymn. It’s also a Protestant motif and was the only way in which a cross would have been permitted in a Victorian cemetery until near the end of the 19th century. This was due to the religious wars that were raging at the time.

When the Victorians created their large municipal cemeteries there was still a fierce Anti-Catholic  prejudice within Britain. This dated back to Henry VIII and the Reformation and had resulted in several anti-Catholic laws being passed during the 17^th and 18^th centuries.    But the cry was still ‘No Popery’ in the 19^th century and any symbols that were associated with Catholicism weren’t welcome in the new marble orchards.   These included crosses, figures of saints and also angels.   Instead, there was a return to Classicism using Roman and Greek motifs and architecture.  Then, as the 19^th century progressed, funerary monuments reflected the tastes of the time.  So you could walk through one and see Arts & Crafts, Celtic Revival, Art Nouveau until eventually towards the end angels did being to fly in.

‘Rock of Ages’ was written by a Calvinist minister, the Reverend Augustus Toplady, in 1763 and  was first published in a religious magazine, ‘The Gospel’, in 1775.   It’s allegedly based on an incident in Toplady’s life.  He was a preacher in a village named Blagdon and was travelling along the gorge of Burrington Combe in Somerset’s Mendip Hills when he was caught in a storm.  He managed to find shelter in a gap in the gorge and was struck by the name of the crevice that had saved him. It’s still marked as ‘Rock of Ages’ both on the rock itself and maps.  He is reputed to have written the hymn’s lyrics on the back of a playing card although one wonders what a minister was doing with a deck of cards.  However, no-one’s sure if this incident actually happened or if it’s apocryphal….

Toplady wasn’t a popular man and in an article by Rupert Christensen of the Daily Telegraph he was described as ‘fanatical, in a gross Calvinism and most difficult to deal with.’ John Wesley avoided him. Toplady was also fond of writing bizarre articles, one of which proposed that a spiralling National Debt  could never be paid off due to the extent of human sinfulness.  Something for the new Chancellor to ponder on I’m sure.   Toplady died in 1776 from TB and would undoubtedly have been forgotten were it not for his rousing hymn.

‘Rock of Ages’ caught the popular imagination. Gladstone translated it into Latin and Greek and asked for it to be played at his funeral.  Prince Albert reputedly requested it on his deathbed and it has appeared in several feature films. These include ‘Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence’ where it’s sung by David Bowie as Major Jack Celliers and both ‘Paper Moon’ and ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ where it’s played at a funeral.  It’s also inspired musicians such as Def Leppard and the writer of the film score for ‘Altered States.’ John Congliano.  It’s  also the title of the long running musical stage show.

These are its lyrics:

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.

Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Saviour, or I die!
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyes shall close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgement throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
From L http://library.timelesstruths.org/music/Rock_of_Ages/et me hide myself in Thee.

I’ve also seen the lyrics of the hymn inscribed on monuments as at Streatham Cemetery and also Brompton.

However it does also appear as a motif on tombstones as here:

It has been described as a symbol of faith, of a person lost in sin whose only hope is to cling to the cross.

Sometimes just the phrase is enough as here:

It was also popular as a print and these are two examples:

Both seem to clinging to a cross in a raging sea – a sea of sin perhaps?

The symbol has reappeared in more recent years and there is a much smaller, modern version at Beckenham Cemetery.  This is on the grave of a 16 year old who died in 1965.

An inspirational hymn to the Victorians and also well into the 20^th Century but what could have the same effect these days?  I’ve always fancied a video of Sid Vicious singing ‘/My Way’ on my tombstone…..

©  Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock_of_Ages_(Christian_hymn)

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/music/3668144/The-story-behind-the-hymn.html

http://www.graveaddiction.com/symbol.html

http://www.thecemeteryclub.com/symbols.html

http://cayugaheightshistory.weebly.com/uploads/2/4/5/4/24545229/pleasant_grove_cemetery_iconography.pdf

http://owlseeyouinthecemetery.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/nothing-in-my-hand-i-bring-simply-to.html

You may recall my excitement at having been asked to take part in a Kickstarter project on personal relationships with cemeteries. It went live on 17 March 2022 and backers fully funded it on the first day of it being on Kickstarter. In fact, Kickstarter gave it ‘Projects We Love’ status. Backers are still funding it and there are big plans afoot. I knew it would be in safe hands with Loren Rhoads as, if anyone could make it happen, she could. And did. As part of the project she did a Google forms interview with each of the contributors and below is mine.

Cemetery Travel: Your Take-along Guide to Graves & Graveyards Around the World

Death’s Garden contributor: Carole Tyrrell

Posted on March 29, 2022 | 1 Comment

I met Carole Tyrrell years ago, when I discovered her blog Shadows Fly Away. She wonder a wonderfully in-depth feature where she examines one symbol that appears on gravestones, usually in England, and provides history, analysis, and beautiful photos to illustrate it.

Always attracted to the dark side of life as it’s much more entertaining, Carole has been involved with cemeteries for over 30 years. They are an oasis of peace and history. Carole’s fascination with cemetery symbols and their meaning has led to her blog, leading symbolism tours, and a forthcoming book. I can’t wait to read it.

Carole’s essay in Death’s Garden Revisited is about falling in love with London’s Nunhead Cemetery — and how the cemetery changed her life.

What’s your favorite thing to do in a cemetery?

Appreciate the calm.

One of Carole’s lovely photos from Nunhead Cemetery.

Tell me about your favorite cemetery.

Very overgrown, very Gothic, great view from the top of the hill.

Is there a cemetery or gravesite you’ve always wanted to visit?

Too many to mention! One is Arnos Vale in Bristol.

If you have anything to say about it, what would your epitaph be?

See you soon.

Do you have a favorite song about cemeteries or graveyards?

“Cemeteries of London” by Coldplay.

That’s perfect! You can check out Carole’s contributor to the Death’s Garden Revisited playlist on Spotify.

I would also love it if you’d check out Death’s Garden Revisited, which is available for preorder on Kickstarter now. This beautiful book will be full of 40 amazing essays about why visiting cemeteries is important. Check it out — and please consider joining the other backers: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lorenrhoads/deaths-garden-revisited-relationships-with-cemeteries

They are the sentinels of the silent cities, standing tall and often spreading out their branches to shade the last resting places of the permanent residents.  Yew trees can often be older than the churches they nestle beside and may predate Christianity as many churches were built on pagan sites of worship. In fact there are reputed to be at least 500 yew trees of this vintage in the UK!  And incredibly, there are 10 yew trees in Britain that are believed to predate the 10^th century.

These venerable trees have many associations and traditions.  So, I will concentrate on a few. They are usually associated with churchyards and burial grounds. The most common tradition is that they are nourished by the decaying bodies beneath them and, as they can grow up to 20 metres high, this could seem plausible.  Another tradition states that yews were planted on plague victims graves to protect and purify them – if this were true then some churchyards would resemble a forest!

Another common tradition is that they were planted to prevent ‘commoners’ from grazing their cattle on church ground.  This was because yews are very poisonous to livestock.  The needles are deadly, and Shakespeare used this in Macbeth when the three witches conjure up a deadly brew that contains, amongst other unpleasant ingredients:

‘Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver’d in the moon’s eclipse,’

However, the Celts saw the yew as a symbol of immortality, death and resurrection which makes the yew’s presence in burial places more obvious. This was because its drooping branches are able to root and form new trunks where they touch the ground.  The one at St James in Cooling was living inside its dead ancestor which demonstrates its ability to renew itself.

In fact, they are one of the most long lived trees in Western Europe but are not considered ancient until at least 900 years old.  The oldest tree in Scotland, and possibly Europe, is the magnificent Fortingall yew in Glen Lyon.  It has been suggested that it is over 2000 years old and maybe even 9000 years old.  It has numerous legends attached to it and in 1769 was reputed to have a girth of over 56ft.  In 1854, funeral processions were reputed to be able to pass through the arch formed by its split trunk.  The yew in St Cynog’s churchyard in Wales is a mere stripling at a reputed 5000 years old. One of the world’s oldest surviving wooden artifacts is a yew spear head which is estimated to be around 450,000 years old. They are evergreens with red berries which although are edible, the seed in the berry is extremely dangerous.

One of my favourite churchyards is that of St Marys in Painswick, Gloucestershire.  It has 99 clipped yew trees but according to Roy’s blog post, attempts to grow a 100^th tree have always failed.  They are a dramatic sight to see!

I must admit that I would feel disappointed if I visited a churchyard and didn’t see a tall, majestic yew or two keeping watch over the dead as potent symbols of resurrection and immortality and the life to come.

© Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated

References and further reading

https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/blog/2018/01/ancient-yew-trees/

https://tree2mydoor.com/pages/information-trees-tree-directory-yew-trees

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taxus_baccata

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fortingall_Yew oldest yew tree in Britain.

Loren Rhoads, author of the first ‘Death’s Garden’ and ‘199 Cemeteries To See Before You Die’, has now created ‘Death’s Garden Revisited’. This is a collection of essays from fellow taphophiles in which they express their relationships and feelings about cemeteries.

And (drum roll) I have an essay in it! It goes live on March 17 2022 on Kickstarter!

A worthy addition to any taphophiles bookshelf or Kindle!

‘I give Pirrip as my father’s family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister — Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father’s, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription, “Also Georgiana Wife of the Above,” I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine — who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle — I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers—pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence.

Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things, seems to me to have been gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time I found out for certain, that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dykes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond, was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing, was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.

https://etc.usf.edu/lit2go/140/great-expectations/2545/chapter-1/

This is an excerpt from the first chapter of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. It’s full of atmosphere and mystery as the hero, Pip, conscious that he is alone in the world, contemplates the graves of his family in a Kent churchyard.   Then Magwitch, the escaped convict, comes up from the marshes and finds him. Pip’s life will never be the same again.

The churchyard is that of St James, Cooling.  As I’m currently living in Charles Dickens country in Kent, I thought I should take the opportunity to visit two nearby churches which are associated with him.  After admiring the restored charnel house in the churchyard of St Margaret’s, Cliffe and the container ships on the horizon which weren’t quite so interesting, I set off.  The large sign pointing me to Cooling did not indicate the distance involved but it soon proved to be ‘a country mile’ away. If you’ve not heard this expression before, it means that it’s a lot further away than you thought.  There was no bus service there and so I walked (why I am not a sylph like being by now I have no idea) and walked and walked along what was an empty road for most of my journey.  A straggle of houses soon came to an end, and I was surrounded by fields.  These were sunflower fields that had been harvested.

A few stragglers were still visible and what a sight they must have been in high summer!  But hope sprang eternal as to me finding the village and at least it was sunny. I kept looking hopefully but at last the remains of the 14^th century Cooling Castle came into sight.  It must have been a magnificent and impressive structure in its day and indicated that there must have been a lot more of Cooling then there is now.  It dwarfed the more contemporary corporate events lodge next door to it.

I never did find any evidence of an actual village but there was a small terrace of houses on the other side of the churchyard.  This is named, appropriately or unimaginatively, Dickens Walk.  In Dickens time the church was situated on the marshes which have now been drained for farmland.  But it’s still an isolated spot and must be even more so in the depths of winter.  On the horizon were the Coryton oil refineries and the town of Basildon in Essex.  Not very inspiring I thought.  In Dickens time, the church would have been surrounded by the marshes and quite desolate and yet it inspired one of his greatest novels.

‘Pip’s Graves’ as they are known are in a prominent place near the church door – a   group of small graves clustered together as if for company.  These are the children, aged between 1 month to 18 months from two families who all died during the late 18^th and 19^th centuries.  It was a poignant sight to see so many and there were 2 more child’s graves on the other side of the church. The table top tomb where Dickens liked to set out his picnic lunch is still there and I wondered if the churchyard had changed much since his day.

Also in the churchyard, there was a wide, spreading yew that was growing inside its dead ancestor – no wonder they are seen as symbols of resurrection and on one wall there was a mass dial.  These were the only way of telling the time before the invention of mechanised timekeepers in the 14^th century. Mass dials featured in a recent Symbol of the Month.

St James’s is a closed church in that it’s no longer used for services and is managed by the Churches Conservation Trust.  On its website it calls itself a ‘church of great expectations’.  Inside it was bright and airy and much of it dated back to the 14^th century although there is a 13^th century font.  It retains the remnants of a rood screen and loft – obviously the iconoclasts weren’t as enthusiastic in their wrecking sprees here.  The main nave aisle has four memorial slabs  of which one had retained its brass inscription to Thomas Woodycare who died in 1611 and the other one was dedicated to Feyth Brook, the wife of John Brock, Lord Cobham and she died in 1508. The other two were blank or missing their brassware.

Sadly, I missed seeing another of St James’ claims to fame – the 19^th century vestry which is covered from floor to ceiling in cockle shells.  The shell is associated with pilgrims who were on the trail to St James’s shrine at Compostela and there is a brass shell on the church’s weathervane.  I may have to make a return visit to see the shell clad vestry. However, it has been suggested that the scene at the beginning of Great Expectations may be a combination of churches in the area but St James does have the sad little graves.

The churchyard also has a reputation for being haunted. Female figures in Victorian dress have been seen drifting across it. I can only say that I did feel watched all the time that I was exploring but when I saw my observer, I knew someone had a sense of humour……

© Text and photographs Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

References and further reading;

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_James%27_Church,_Cooling

This is the headstone dedicated to Henry Smith who rests in the churchyard of St Nicholas in Blakeney, Norfolk, UK. I saw it on Twitter@PoorFrankRaw and was immediately captivated by the ‘rivulet of time’ and the ocean of eternity. Henry is recorded with an entry in the parish records but not much more.

What a wonderful example of an intriguing epitaph that makes you stop, read it and remember Henry.

Today, February 2, is Candlemass and it seemed appropriate to revisit an older post featuring one of the first, and perhaps one of the most symbolic, flowers to appear in the New Year….

Imagine yourself in a gloomy medieval church on the festival of Candlemass. You, and your fellow parishioners, have each brought your candles to be blessed by the priest and, after the procession which will fill the church with light, they will all be placed in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary.   Candlemass marked the end of winter and the beginning of Spring and the blessing is to ward off evil spirits.  It traditionally falls on February 2 and is shared with the Celtic festival of Imbolc.  And in the churchyard outside you can see green shoots forcing their way up through the hard winter earth.  The snowdrop’s milk-white flowers show that spring is on its way as they begin to emerge into the light.

The placing of the lit candles in front of the Virgin Mary’s statue gave the snowdrop one of its many other names – Mary’s Tapers.  But there are many others such: Dingle Dangle, Candlemas Bells, Fair Maids of February, Snow Piercer, Death’s Flower and Corpse Flower.

The snowdrop’s appearance has also inspired many comments . According to the Scottish Wildlife Trusts website they have been described as resembling 3 drops of milk hanging from a stem and they are also associated with the ear drop which is an old fashioned ear ring.  Anyone who has seen a group of snowdrops nodding in the wind will understand what they mean.   The snowdrop’s colour is associated with purity and they have been described as a shy flower with their drooping flowers.  However, the eco enchantments website reveals that the flower is designed in this way due:

‘to the necessity of their dusty pollen being kept dry and sweet in order to attract the few insects flying in winter.’

Snowdrops have been known since ancient times and, in 1597, appeared in Geralde’s ‘Great Herbal where they were called by the less than catchy name of ‘Timely Flowers Bulbous Violets’.  Its Latin name is Galanthus nivalis.  Galanthus means milk white flowers and the nivalis element translates as snowy according to the great botanist, Linnaeus in 1753.   In the language of flowers they’re associated with ‘Hope’ and the coming of spring and life reawakening.

However, yet despite all these positive associations, the elegant snowdrop has a much darker side. Monks were reputed to have brought them to the UK but it was the ever enthusiastic Victorians who copiously planted them in graveyards, churchyards and cemeteries which then linked them with death.  Hence the nickname name ‘Death’s Flower.’

They were described by Margaret Baker in the 1903 ‘Encyclopedia of Superstitions, Folklore and the Occult of the World’ as:

‘so much like a corpse in a shroud that in some counties  the people will not have it in the house, lest they bring in death.‘

So that’s where the ‘Corpse Flower’ nickname came from.

Snowdrops are also seen as Death’s Tokens and there are several regional folk traditions of connecting death with them. For example in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries it was considered very unlucky to bring the flower into the house from outside as it was felt that a death would soon occur.  The most unlucky snowdrop was that with a single bloom on its stem.    Other folk traditions were described in a 1913 folklore handbook which claims that if a snowdrop was brought indoors it will make the cows milk watery and affect the colour of the butter.  Even as late as 1969 in ‘The Folklore of Plants’  it was stated that having a snowdrop indoors could affect the number of eggs that a sitting chicken might hatch.  A very powerful plant if these are all to be believed – you have been warned!

It’s amazing that this little flower has so many associations and legends connected with it but I always see it as a harbinger of spring, rebirth and an indication of warmer days to come.

But the snowdrop also has a surprise.  This came courtesy of the Urban Countryman page on Facebook – not all social media is time wasting!  If you very gently turn over a snowdrop bloom you will find that the underside is even prettier and they also vary depending on the snowdrop variety.

Here is a small selection from my local churchyard and one from Kensal Green cemetery.

So don’t underestimate the snowdrop – it’s a plant associated with life and death but watch out for your hens and the colour of your butter if you do decide to tempt fate…..

©Carole Tyrrell text and photos unless otherwise stated

References:

http://www.plantlore.com

http://www.independent.co.uk/environment/naturestudies/bright-in-winters-depths-why-the-flawless-flower-of-candlemas-is-ajoy-forever-8483967

http://www.flowermeaning.com/snowdrop-flower-meaning

http://www.ecoenchantments.co.uk/mysnowdropmagicpage.html

Nature’s “death tokens”

This is a more unusual symbol although hands often feature as motifs in cemeteries usually in the more familiar clasped hands..

The Pointing Finger is usually  one finger,  the index one, pointing upwards or downwards. On the three that I saw, it was the right hand that was being depicted with the remaining fingers and thumb turned down into the palm.   I have yet to see the downward pointing version but rest assured that it doesn’t indicate that the departed is going ‘down below’ or to Hell.  Instead it can signify an untimely, sudden or unexpected death. As you’ve probably already guessed, the upwardly pointed finger is meant to reassure the grieving family that their loved one has ascended to Heaven and has received the reward of the righteous.

However, I found these three lovely examples in Beckenham Cemetery during a recent visit, much to my surprise, and they made me wonder why it isn’t more popular. In all of these the pointing finger and hand are surrounded by flowers.

The first one is  to John James Lumsden who died on 25 November 1903 aged 63.  It’s very well carved with a daffodil on one side of the hand and two sprays of Lily of the Valley flanking the hand.  When I first saw it, a thick branch of ivy obscured the flower on the other side of the daffodil. But on a return visit in January 2017 the branch had been trimmed back and a rose with one full blown bloom and a bud was now visible again. The bud is significant as it often appears on childrens  graves to symbolise a life unlived, that never fully bloomed and was ‘nipped in the bud.’ But not on this one.

In floriography or the language of flowers the daffodil is an important representation of resurrection.This is because of its association with Easter, rebirth and renewal.   The Lily of the Valley is also associated with Spring as its month is May. Other qualities that the Lily represents are chastity, purity and the return of happiness. It’s mentioned in The Song of Solomon 2.1

‘I am the rose of Sharon

And the lily of the valley.’

There’s also the legend  that Mary’s tears turned into the lily of the valley at the exact spot when she cried at the Cross so an alternate name for the flowers is ‘Mary’s tears.’  The Lily is also meant to have healing powers and has other nicknames such as ‘Jacob’s Tears’ and ‘the ladder to heaven’.

This is to Charles Henry McKay who died on 1 November 1910 at only 23 and was the only son of Charles and Ellen McKay as it states on the epitaph. Although the flowers surrounding the pointing finger and hand are the same here as on Lumden’s, on this one they are more stylised and 2D.  They would have mourned his short life and unfulfilled ambitions.  So there is an added poignancy to the rosebud as his was a life cut short.   There is also the word ‘GONE’ carved on the cuff of the hand which emphasises that he has gone to a better place.   It really stood out amongst its neighbouring grey stones so it may have been recently cleaned or restored.

There is a third memorial featuring the pointed finger which is in the same style as Lumsden’s but not as well kept.  .This was to  ‘Will, eldest son of William and Sarah Greenfield. Born 10 December 1874 died 1 August 1905’

Again, another memorial to a life cut short as Will died aged only 31.Three other members of the Greenfield family are also commemorated on the headstone.

To our eyes they could be seen as sentimental but I found them very touching with their aim to comfort those left behind through the use of flowers.

But here’s a mystery from my own local churchyard:

This is to a woman who died at 38 called Georgiana Margaret Barns and it has a pointing finger on the headstone. But instead of pointing upwards or downwards, it’s pointing to the left and apparently into thin air.  The hand appears to have a woman’s lacy cuff and I noticed that, although her husband’s dates are also recorded, he isn’t actually buried there. Instead he lies in Hilderstone churchyard in Stafford.  He died at 76 nearly 20 years after his wife.   Is the finger pointing towards his resting place?  Is it a personal symbol known only to them?  I found a few details about them online but not much more so I am intrigued and mystified by this one.

I have to admit that The Pointing Finger symbol does remind me a little of a palmist drawing of the hand but in the ones that I’ve seen it’s also very decorative and moving.

Text and photos Carole Tyrrell otherwise stated.

References:

http://www.lsew.org.uk/funerary-symbolism/

http://genealogy.about.com/cs/symbolism/p/hands.htm

https://mysendoff.com/2012/08/the-grave-secrets-of-symbols-and-iconography-of-the-cemetery/

http://mrssymbols.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/hands-beyond-grave.html

http://www.john-attfield.com/paf_tree/attfield_current/fam3951.html

http://www.allaboutheaven.org/symbols/996/123/pointing-finger

https://www.verywell.com/headstone-symbols-finger-pointing-up-1132433

This lovely painting is above the altar at St Magnus the Martyr in the City of London. It’s a Christopher Wren church and there are several ancient churches in the area.

Another year has passed and Christmas is staring us in the eye again. But what about next year? What will it bring? I’m hoping for a better year for everyone and more church exploring! And of course discovering more symbols!

So I would like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!