It’s ‘the most wonderful time of the year’ according to singer Andy Williams and so I am taking this opportunity to send my own good wishes to you all.
This image was taken last year in Brompton Cemetery, London on a frosty day and I liked the way that Mother Nature had outlined and emphasised the detail on the carving especially on the wings and the drapery. It’s very much in the Classical style but sadly I can’t recall the name on the memorial.
There is no Symbol of the Month this month but it will begin again in January 2024 which, scarily, is not that far away.
It was a cold, grey, wet day in St Mary’s churchyard in Rainham, Kent. ‘Typical English late summer day.’ I thought. A christening was taking place inside the church and so I had decided to explore the churchyard. It’s a large one with a scattering of indecipherable 18th century tombstones and many far more contemporary ones. There was a poignant one that was dedicated to a baby that had only lived for a few hours and I felt that I was in the presence of the parents’ grief as I stood there.
I sheltered from the fitful rain under a thick cluster of large yew trees and, as I stood there, I saw this well carved headstone. It features a large weeping willow, drooping or draped, depending on your point of view, over an urn which has a large of piece of cloth over it. Beneath this scene are ivy leaves and ivy flowers which symbolise eternity. So, several symbols on one stone which is dedicated to an Ann Baker who died in 1869. Two other family members are also recorded below. But we do not know if they are actually buried there.
The draped cloth over the urn can be seen as the curtain between life and death and almost resemble shrouds. For more information, please see my earlier post Symbol of the Month: The Urn.
Weeping willows often feature on mourning jewellery as seen on the example below.
But seeing this headstone set me thinking about the weeping willow, its association with death and mourning and its name. But firstly, a word about its history and other associations.
A weeping willow can be an impressive sight as with these two in St James’ Park, London. They can grow up to 70 feet tall although most are 35 – 40 feet tall. Its long, flowing branches allow it to bend with strong winds and it’s usually found near water. The ‘weeping’ supposedly comes from the way in which raindrops run down its long leaves which make it look as if the tree is crying. The Celtic tradition has it that a wind blowing through the leaves was said to be elves whispering to each other and if you’ve ever been near a weeping willow when the wind is blowing, it does sound as if the tree is whispering and muttering softly to itself.
The weeping willow originally came from China and is a hybrid of the Peking willow (Salix Babylonica) and the European white willow (Salix Alba). It’s believed that that all English weeping willows are descended from a twig that was tied around a parcel sent from Spain to a Lady Suffolk. The English poet and dramatist, Alexander Pope (1688-1744) apparently begged for the twig, planted it and a tree grew. They are very easy to grow from cuttings which has led to them being seen as emblematic of immortality. So, on the Baker headstone, it could be seen as signifying life after death and resurrection.
Alexander Pope (1688-1744) portrait by Michael Dahl, 1727.National Portrait Gallery – shared under Wiki Commons.
It appears in many cultures especially the Chinese and Japanese. However, the ancient Egyptians believed that in the annual flood of the River Nile which brought new life to the surrounding land,:
‘the willow’s ability to regenerate quickly after being cut down mirrored the cycle of life and death that fascinated them’http://spiritualsymbolism.org
In China, it has a protective element as its branches are carried on the day of the Tomb Sweeping or Qingming Festival. They are also put up on gates and front doors, which are thresholds or gateways, to ward off evil spirits. In the Festival, the ruler of the underworld allows the spirits of the dead to return to earth but as their presence may not always be welcome, the branches are used to keep them away, In Japan, the weeping willow is associated with ghosts and there is a popular belief that a ghost will appear where a willow grows. This could also be seen as resurrection or life after death.
However, a more sinister aspect comes from English folklore where the willow is considered capable of uprooting itself and stalking travellers! A more romantic view is that, if a young woman wished to find true love, then she would tie a ribbon around a willow’s branches while making a wish.
Willows also appear in the Bible in Psalms 137: v1-2:
‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion,
We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.’
King James version
They are also mentioned in Ezekiel 17:5 and Leviticus 23:40.
The weeping willow is ingrained within our culture and literature with Desdemona’s ‘The Willow Song’ in Shakespeare’s ‘Othello’. But it is in Tennyson’s poem, ‘The Willow Tree’ that the tree is described as a symbol of mourning and in Wordsworth’s poem ‘The Willow Tree’ he describes how:
‘it droops languidly o’er his dark mirror below.’
Billie Holliday performing at the Downbeat Jazz Club, 1947. Photographer William P Gottlieb. Shared under Wiki Commons.
The jazz singer, Billie Holliday sang ‘Willow weep for me’ in which she invites the tree to:
‘Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me.’
as she laments her lost love.
But from the late 18th century and into the 19th century it was a frequent motif on mourning jewellery and here is another example from the Museum of London. They were often associated, in the Classical style, with figures of mourning women.
The two mourning rings in this post both come from the Museum of London.
But on the Baker headstone the weeping willow’s branches may symbolise the drooping spirits and hearts of those who mourn. But, as the branches point down back to earth, they can also be signs of eternity in an endless cycle of renewal.
Before writing this post, I had only associated the weeping willow with sorrow and grief but it is a tree that I have always admired for its beauty. So, it was wonderful to learn of its other, more positive aspects. In fact, it does not only weep for the dead but also offers comfort and solace to those left behind.
I was tucking into a milk chocolate toad last night (31/10) when I spotted a familiar symbol on the packet – a winged skull!
This is the death’s head (highly appropriate for Halloween) and is reputed to represent the combination of physical death in the skull and spiritual regeneration with the angel wings.
In other words, triumph over death. So thank you M & S for such great and informative packaging!
It was while exploring Beckenham cemetery in south east London that I first came across the Crown. It has several possible meanings with the most obvious one being that it symbolises victory or triumph over death. Julian Litten, an expert on cemeteries, has written that it is ‘The Crown of Life’ and a reward for those who stayed faithful until death. There are three Biblical references which support this view:
James 1:12 New International Version (NIV)
‘Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.’ https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=James%201:12
and also Revelation 2 10 and Corinthians 24:27
However, from the earliest it has been seen as a symbol of leadership, distinction and royalty. A variety of saints also wore crowns to indicate that they were either a martyr or of royal blood and there is a 19th century painting by Robert Bayne dated 1864 depicting saints ‘casting down their crowns before Christ.’ The Virgin Mary is often portrayed as wearing a crown as well as in this image:
Virgin Mary and Christ baby from Pinterest.
But J C Cooper has a more esoteric interpretation and says that it is ‘an architectural emblem of the celestial world and form the point of exit from this world and entry into the divine.’
In the Jewish faith it’s known as ‘The Crown of Good Name’ which alludes to the deceased as being of ‘exceptionally noble character.’ However, it can also be a representation of the head of the family or of a household. I think that Julian Litten’s view is probably the most likely given the Biblical references. There is also another variant which is the Cross and the Crown as here in this example from the Champion headstone in Fairmount Cemetery, Colorado, US:
This example comes from Brompton where it is at the top of a very ornate and beautiful memorial. This is a radiate crown and, according to J C Cooper, it can represent ‘ the energy and power contained in the head which was regarded as the seat of life-soul, …an attribute of sun gods,….of supernatural people and the points of the crown symbolise the rays of the sun…’ or it may just be an attractive decorative device.
Crown of thorns:
This is a variant on the crown as it is a representation of suffering, passion and martyrdom. It’s based on the ‘crown plaited by the soldiers and imposed upon Jesus during his trial before Pontius Pilate’ according to Julian Litten. J C Cooper asserts that this was a ’parody of the Roman Emperor’s crown of roses’. The soldiers then mocked Jesus by kneeling in front of him and hailing him as ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ A potent emblem of royalty and power had been turned into one of pain and degradation. But the crown of thorns is a prelude to Jesus being given a far worthier crown in Heaven. This is confirmed in Hebrews 2:9: “
But we see Him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honour because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God He might taste death for everyone”
In a famous painting of the executed King Charles 1, the Eikon Basilike, he has abandoned his earthly crown, the symbol of majesty, for the crown of thorns that he is holding in his hand as a representation of his suffering.
Both the Crown and the Crown of thorns are deeply religious symbols and are examples of the deceased’s faith. They are also symbols, I believe of resurrection and the deceased’s belief in an afterlife which may have given comfort to those left behind. and also their belief in an everlasting life beyond the grave.
Last month Heritage Open Days took place in the Medway towns. These are brilliant opportunities to explore places that are not always open to the public – last year I was lucky enough to finally see inside the Darnley Mausoleum!
This year I revisited St Mary’s church in Higham, Kent which is built on the site of a medieval priory with a dubious reputation. It was the home of the ‘naughty nuns’ of Higham and it would seem that their reputation lasts up to the present day. It would have been a thriving community in contrast to the rather isolated spot it is now.
Refreshments and tours of the church and churchyard were on offer and it was on one of the hottest weekends of the year! The church is now closed and is the care of the Churches Conservation Trust. It’s the church where Charles Dickens daughter, Katy, married the great novelist, Wilkie Collins.
There are still traces of the Priory to be seen today and our guide pointed them out. According to him, the landscape surrounding St Mary’s has not changed much since the Priory’s day. Fields stretched on into the distance and at the end of Church Lane the Priory’s fishpond could be seen. Last summer I saw huge blue Emperor dragonflies darting through the reeds but on this visit there were huge majestic bulrushes.
Despite the heat I decided to explore the churchyard and found this rare 19th century wooden grave rail. Wood doesn’t often survive as it obviously rots but this is in great condition. Unfortunately the epitaph hasn’t survived and so I visited the Kent Archaeological Society’s website to see if they had recorded one.
They had two surveys of the churchyard; one from 1922 and another from 2012. In the first survey, several wooden crosses were recorded but none of these have survived in the present churchyard. The wooden cross I had seen at the front of the churchyard by the road on my first visit in 2022 has collapsed and partially fallen into the grass.
The Society have presumed that the rail may have been dedicated to George Chapman who was a carter in Cobham Kent. He died on 10 December 1868 aged 38 and his daughter, Ann who died in 1860 aged 3 years and is presumably buried with him.
The rail consists of wooden boards set between upright posts. According to Roger Bowdler in his book ‘Churchyards’ they are also known as
‘graveboards or deadboards…these were the last common form of wooden churchyard memorials, and they form a link with the centuries old tradition of temporary timber grave markers.’
Frederick Burgess in ‘English Churchyard Memorials’ describes them as:
‘an inscribed horizon post by upright posts resembles part of a fence. The grave board was a later form of grave rail. It was also called bed head, dead board and leaping board.’
I can’t think how I missed it on my earlier visit as it’s a reminder that not everyone could afford a permanent marker and that it was generally the emerging merchant class and the wealthy who could.
However, I was visiting St John’s church In Hampstead as part of London Month of the Dead earlier in October 2023 and saw the George du Maurier grave rail in the churchyard extension. This still has its inscription. It also has Celtic Revival influenced end posts featuring elaborate Hiberno Saxon strapwork. This is in itself a sign of eternity as it has no beginning or end. Du Maurier is better known these days perhaps for being the grandfather of the novelist Daphne Du Maurier. However, he wrote the novel, ‘Trilby’ in 1894 in which
‘a poor artist’s model, Trilby O’Ferrall, is transformed into a diva under the spell of an evil musical genius, Svengali. Soap, songs, dances, toothpaste, and even the city of Trilby, Florida, were named after her, as was the variety of soft felt hat with an indented crown worn in the London stage dramatisation of the novel. The plot inspired Gaston Leroux ‘s 1910 novel ‘Phantom of the Opera’ and innumerable works derived from it. Du Maurier eventually came to dislike the persistent attention the novel was given.Wikipedia
George du Maurier (1834-1896) Shared under Wiki Creative Commons
However, Du Maurier certainly wasn’t poor and his grave rail has been associated with the Arts and Crafts movement that flourished from 1880 – 1920. This movement declared a belief in craftmanship that stressed the the beauty of the material used within it and also its simplicity, utility and beauty.
There is another grave rail in the churchyard of St Peter and St Paul, Chaldon, Surrey.
It may well be that there was an abundance of timber in these communities which led to grave rails becoming so popular as well as a lack of suitable stone or, indeed stone masons. But the fact that they have survived at all is incredible. So I will be looking out for more examples on my churchyard visits in future.
This month’s symbol often features on 18th century headstones as a memento mori a reminder of mortality. But more recently, the hourglass was the irritating little symbol on your computer screen which announced that it was thinking about doing something or the glass container, one half filled with sand, which you upended in order to time the boiling of your egg.
But an hourglass, sometimes with wings, on a tombstone is different. Instead, it’s a reminder that the ‘sands of time’ have run out. A winged hourglass reminds us that time waits for no-one as ‘tempus fugit’ or ‘time flies’ literally. An hourglass can often be seen in vanitas paintings as a reminder that life is fleeting, that time is rapidly passing and that every day one comes closer to death.
Vanitas art, from the Latin for vanity, is a genre that flourished in the Netherlands during the early 17th century. It’s a particular form of still-life and contains collections of objects that are symbolic of the inevitability of death, the transience of life and vainglory of earthly pursuits and pleasures. The viewer is invited to look at the painting and to be reminded of their own mortality. They also provided a moral justification for painting attractive objects. As with a lot of moralistic genre painting the enjoyment evoked by the sensuous depiction of the subject is in a certain conflict with the moralistic message. Vanitas pictures evolved from earlier simple paintings of skulls and other symbols of death which were often painted on the back of portraits during the late Renaissance. It’s height of popularity was during 1620 – 1650 and was centred in Leiden in the Netherlands and Flanders, the Dutch speaking region of Belgium.
Very few vanitas picture contain figures and, instead, they contain certain standard items. These are: symbols of arts and sciences (books, maps, and musical instruments), wealth and power (purses, jewellery, gold objects), and earthly pleasures (goblets, pipes, and playing cards); symbols of death or transience (skulls, clocks, burning candles, soap bubbles, and flowers); and, sometimes, symbols of resurrection and eternal life (usually ears of corn or sprigs of ivy or laurel). And of course hourglasses to reflect the passing of time and the need to make the most of it. Objects were often tumbled together in disarray, suggesting the eventual overthrow of the achievements they represent.
However, Douglas Keister, author of Stories in Stone, has suggested another, bolder interpretation of the symbol:
‘The hourglass can also be turned over or inverted over and over again which symbolises the cyclic nature of life and death, heaven and earth. Inversion can be seen as the interplay of opposites in death giving rise to life and vice versa. ‘
In fact it wasn’t until I started researching for this piece that I realised how many interpretations the hourglass symbol could have. Pirates are reputed to use it on their flags as a warning to their victims and enemies that their time, or lives, were about to run out. They can also feature in tattoos especially in prison where a tattoo of an hourglass may mean no parole.
There is also an association with old movies in that the hero/heroine has one span of the sand in which to make a decision or rescue. The dramatic turning over of the great hourglass down to the spiralling of that last grain of sand adds to the mystery and drama.
A quick online search also revealed masonic and spiritual associations. Two saints are traditionally pictured with hourglasses; St Ambrose and St Magdalene as is the Greek god, Chronos, the personification of time. The Grim Reaper or Death when depicted as a skeleton, often holds an hourglass with his scythe as does Old Father Time.
The hourglass is, in my opinion, one of the most graphic memento mori symbols. At that time, most people were illiterate but would understand visual images and would know the significance of an hourglass, especially one with wings. I love memento mori symbols and enjoy finding them in the ancient churchyards of North Kent churches – what will I discover next?
Text and photos copyright Carole Tyrrell unless indicated otherwise.
References and further reading:
How to read symbols, Clare Gibson, A C Black, 2009
Stories in Stone – A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography, Douglas Keister, Gibbs Smith, USA 2004
An Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols, J C Cooper, Thames & Hudson, 1978
I am currently suffering from Covid which is not the writers friend to say the least.
But this short piece came up on the BBC news website recently and it did raise the question, and not for the first time, about what happens to patients graves when the institution, hospital or asylum in which they lived closes.
The small iron crosses in Nayland cemetery seem to have a happy ending as local people, some of whom worked at the Jane Walker hospital, have taken on their upkeep for the foreseeable future. Follow the link for further information.
But not all patients graveyards have such a positive outcome and I have written in previous posts about Netherne Hospital cemetery which is abandoned and overgrown. Also, St Lawrence’s which was a hospital for disabled people, and now sits in the middle of a golf course. However, it is being cared for by a Friends group. They are still acknowledged as burial places for patients or residents.
Others have not been so fortunate. In 1981, Cane Hill Hospital, a former Victorian lunatic asylum, was being prepared for redevelopment and their cemetery was cleared. The remains of almost 6000 people were exhumed and cremated at Croydon Cemetery in Mitcham Road, Croydon. These included British First World War veterans who had had separate areas in the cemetery where they had been buried with full military honours. According to Wikipedia:
‘Research from plans indicated that there two designated main ‘service plots’ numbered 411 and 420, where six were buried in each grave. Eighteen of these, who had qualified for commemoration by the Commonwealth War Grave Commission (CWGC) are commemorated on a memorial that the CWGC erected in Croydon Cemetery, where their ashes had been scattered at ‘Location 1000’ in the grounds in 2015’
This is the unofficial memorial at Croydon Cemetery that records the servicemen interred there from Cane Hill. The original CWGC memorial was stolen and they do not recognise these.
In 2009, a headstone was placed at Location 1000 to record the patients buried there.
This was placed there due to patients families wanting to see the final resting place of their relatives and being directed to an
‘unmarked mound of earth in Croydon Cemetery’s Garden of Remembrance’
I have to say that it isn’t where I’d like my relatives last resting place to be.
However, a local councillor at the time felt:
‘sure that visitors will soon look on it as a suitable memorial area for those who died at Cane Hill.’
Anonymous in life and anonymous in death it would seem. There are some archive photos of the cemetery and the mound on www.simoncornwell.com One wonders what memorials and information about patients was lost during this process especially as the NHS policy was to incinerate their records or leave them lying around in a derelict building. A local reporter did try and start a campaign to save them but it’s unsure what happened to it.
There is also the case of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery which I have written about in a previous post in which the NHS attempted to sell off a patients cemetery and Chapel as a ‘freehold development’. This was saved by local people who formed a friends group which appears to still be going strong. There are some lovely photos of it on TripAdvisor. The numbered iron markers, although long gone from the graves, are still there.
But who knows how many of these cemetery and graveyards have been lost over the years as the institutions close and no one knows what to do with them. They are still someone’s relatives and as times change they may want to find out what happened to them. After all, local people saved the Mendip Hospital and St Lawrence’s and it was patients relatives who ensured that they finally had a proper headstone on the mound at Croydon Cemetery. Someone cared enough to do something.
The theatre is dark, the audience and backstage staff have all gone home or off to the pub and the final curtain has been brought down. The end of a show, the end of the evening and, in funerary symbolism, the end of a life.
This fine example is from West Norwood Cemetery where it commemorates the Raikes family. Theatre was in their blood and so the sculpture of a theatrical curtain is very appropriate.
But curtains and draperies have always been associated with death and remembrance. There is the old saying which is sometimes quoted on headstones and memorials that the deceased has ‘gone beyond the veil’. An urn on top of a memorial will often have a sculpted piece of cloth draped across it which indicates the division between the living world and the realm of the dead.
In the 19th century, and also well into the 20th century, drapes were hung over mirrors with curtains and blinds drawn down at windows during the period of mourning. It was as if they were hiding death from the world or containing it within the family. On the Friends of Oak Grove Cemetery website they mention mirrors being covered with black crepe fabric in order to prevent the deceased’s spirit being trapped in the looking glass.
Curtains also feature on headstones where they are depicted as parted in order to display a meaningful symbol or to draw attention to an epitaph that takes centre stage. However the Raikes one is very obviously a theatrical curtain and it’s beautifully detailed. They were powerful players in that flamboyant world and the curtain is a direct reference to this. For example, in 1889, they had Sir Edward Elgar and his new wife, Caroline, as guests in their house, Northlands in College Road, Dulwich. This was just prior to his Salut D’Amour being performed at the Crystal Palace.
But the family home had a secret in its basement. This was where Charles Raikes (1879-1945) had constructed his own private theatre. He lived there with his mother, Vera, (1858-1942) and two sons, Raymond and Roynon, from his former marriage. Roynon’s wife, Greta, and their daughter Gretha were also part of the household. Charles lived and breathed theatre and he was ahead of his time when he converted a large billiard room into the Northlands Private Theatre. Nowadays it would be a lavish home cinema with comfy seats and popcorn on tap with his own home movies onscreen. He extended his pride and joy by removing a couple of inconvenient bay windows and then converting a coal cellar and wine cellar into dressing rooms. He was a talented scenic artist and stage carpenter and from 1924 – 1939 the Theatre put on nearly 23 productions a year to an invited audience. This was made up of the Raikes’ friends and relations as well as the actors and actresses friends. The lavish after show parties were renowned.
Charles’ sons continued the links to the entertainment world. Raymond (1910-1998) became a professional actor in the 1930’s and played Laertes to Donald Wolfit’s Hamlet at Stratford upon Avon.
Raymond Raikes taken in 1945
Shared under Wiki Creative Commons
He eventually became a BBC producer, director and broadcaster. He won several awards over a long career which included pioneering the use of stereo sound in radio drama. In 1975 he retired and is known as one of the three greatest radio drama producers. Roynon became a professional photographer specialising in theatre pictures and was also a stills photographer for the BBC. Greta, his wife, became a theatrical costumier and drama teacher and her daughter, Gretha, in turn became a speech and drama teacher. In a 1997 Dulwich Society article she was also credited with being the curator of the archives of the Northlands Private Theatre.
The quotation below the curtain is from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. It comes from the 21st, 22nd or 23rd stanza depending on which version you read. This is the verse in full and is taken from the 1859 translation by Edward Fitzgerald
Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest.
He saw them as a selection of quatrains or Rubaiyats that had been attributed to the Persian poet who was also known as the Astronomer Poet of Persia. Although Fitzgerald’s translation was initially unsuccessful, by the 1880’s, it had become immensely popular. It has influenced many creative people over the years including the Pre-Raphaelites and especially Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Oscar Wilde was also a fan and mentions ‘wise Omar’ in The Picture of Dorian Gray. Agatha Christie, Isaac Asimov, H P Lovecraft and Daphne Du Maurier are amongst many who may have borrowed a line as a book title or used an Omar like figure within their works. Interpretations of the Rubaiyat can be very free and as a result the quatrains can change their wording. The underlying message of the Rubaiyat appears to be Seize the Day or Carpe Diem in Latin. There are also several references to drinking with the implication that once drinking is over so is life. But this particular line seems appropriate for its use on a headstone.
And so the curtain has been brought down on the Raikes family but, as I took my photos, I thought I detected a faint smell of greasepaint and the appreciative sound of applause……
Now celebrating it’s 10th birthday , the London Month of the Dead is a permanent fixture on the social calendars of devotees of the dark side.
You can book now and early booking is advisable – there are 60 talks, walks, workshops and performances to choose from. Some within London cemeteries and churchyards, some within ossuaries and others in more unique settings.
Experience another side of the metropolis with writers, perf, artists, historians and academics and like minded souls! And, to finish it in celebration of its 10th decade, there will be a Halloween Ball inspired by the works of Edgar Allan Poe! Click the link for more info and to book.
I have been a fan of London Month of the Dead ever since it started and it has taken me to places that I would, otherwise, not been able to access. And such knowledgeable speakers and unique venues. I have such anticipation when the new programme appears and it’s a pleasure to see how it has expanded over the years. Last year I explored ossuaries with them – and found myself in Spitalfields on a Sunday morning peering down from the pavement into the remains of a large medieval ossuary and then being admitted into it…
Let’s all drink to another 10 years of the London Month of the Dead – especially if it’s a gin punch! Hic!
Open Day 2023 More information here. Advance tour booking here. These tours of the cemetery last 60 min and will run on the hour from 12:00 noon. The last tour is at 17:00. Advance catacombs tour booking here. These last 25 mins and will run on the hour and half hour from 11:30 am. The last tour is at 17:30. Further events (like ‘Herbal Heritage: Uses and Folklore of Cemetery Plants’ walk) are being planned and our Open Day Page will be updated as these firm up.
shadows fly away 