View of the Tate Mausoleum – note the patterning of the contrasting colours.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Doulton – note cross on roof and relief lettering on front.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
View of mausoleum with Mrs Stearns father, William Chillingworth’s sepulchre visible to the left.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
My first encounter with the Doulton mausolea was seeing the charming Stearns mausoleum in Nunhead Cemetery. I fell in love with its dainty proportions and beautiful Romanesque decoration. When I first saw it in 1989, its coffin shelves were empty, the entrance was open and it was rumoured to be the preferred hotel of choice for any passing vagrants.
But first, a brief history of mausoleums. The word comes from the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus which was near the modern day city of Bodrum in Turkey. It was the 140ft high, highly decorated, last resting place of King Mausolea who was the Persian Satrap or Governor of Caria. It was created by his wife, Queen Artemesia Ii of Caria after he died in 353 BC and it was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
Mausoleums were very popular with the Romans and were usually created for deceased leaders and other important people. The via Appia Antica near Rome contains the ruins of many private mausolea but the coming of Christianity made them fall out of favour.
A mausoleum is literally a house of the dead and usually contains a burial chamber either above ground or with a burial vault below the structure. This can contain the body or bodies. However, some mausolea contain coffin shelves above ground as with the Kilmorey Mausoleum near Richmond where the coffins are still in situ. One of the most famous mausoleums is the Taj Mahal in India.
The three Doulton mausolea are all made of red brick with terracotta facing. It’s a surprisingly durable material and is a very warm colour. Indeed it almost seem to glow when the sun shines on it. As the name implies, they were all built by the famous firm of Doulton & Co – now Royal Doulton – who had a factory at Vauxhall. They made many ceramic items including stoneware and salt glaze sewer pipes and are still in existence today. The firm and especially Sir Henry Doulton pioneered the use for terracotta and provided unlimited amounts of it to the mausolea builders.
Mortal Remains; The History and Present State of The Victorian and Edwardian Cemetery, Chris Brooks, 1989, Wheaton Publishers
Here lies Mr Cube copyright Carole Tyrrell
Part 1 – The Tate Mausoleum – West Norwood
This is the first of the three and was commissioned t in 1884. It was designed by Harold Peto of the firm of Peto and George and Doulton craftsmen worked on it. It’s in the Perpendicular style which was the last breath of English Gothic from late 14th – mid 16th century and is characterised by its use of vertical lines. The patterning on the terracotta surface resembles that of a jigsaw especially with the contrasting bands of red and buff colours.
There is some lovely ornamentation including 2 angels in relief blowing trumpets in the upper corners of the door frame – one on either side.
Tate Mausoleum – note the reliefs of angels blowing trumpets on either side of the door frame. copyright Carole Tyrrell
It also has the famous quote from the Song of Solomon on one side of the door:
‘Until the day dawns and the shadows flee away’
Tate Mausoleum – note the famous quote from the Song of Solomon in relief. copyright Carole Tyrrell
This is where I first saw it and it was the inspiration for the name of this blog.
The interior, which I haven’t yet seen, is reputed to have a vaulted ceiling with the design of an angel at Sir Henry’s request.
Sir Henry Tate (1819 – 1899) was originally from Lancashire and worked in the Liverpool sugar trade. He soon amassed a huge fortune and invented the sugar cube.
In fact he was known as ‘Mr Cube.’ Sir Henry was an avid art collector and, in 1897, donated his entire art collection the nation. He gave it to what was then known as The National Gallery of British Art before becoming The Tate Gallery and now finally as Tate Britain. It was built on the former site of Millbank Prison. Two of Tate Britain’s most popular paintings; Millais’ ‘Ophelia’ and Waterhouse’s ‘The Lady of Shalott’ came from Sir Henry’s collection.
He refused a knighthood on several occasions and only finally accepted it after being informed that the Royal Family would be offended if he refused again.
In 2012, as part of an art trail in West Norwood Cemetery in 2012, a Belfast based artist, Brendon Jamiston recreated a mini version of Mr Cube’s last resting place from 5,117 sugar cubes in homage to Sir Henry and his invention. It was displayed next to the real thing and I feel that Sir Henry would have approved.
The Gordon monument butterfly motif in all its glory. Kensal Green Cemetery. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Cemeteries and graveyards can be happy hunting grounds for butterflies. But not just the bright, dancing summer jewels, borne on the breeze, but also the much rarer kind which perches in them for eternity.
So far I’ve only discovered two of this particular species which were both in London. One was in Brompton and the other was in Kensal Green. But I have also seen others online in American cemeteries.
But I’m surprised that the butterfly symbol isn’t more widely used as it is a deep and powerful motif of resurrection and reincarnation. It has fluttered through many cultures which include Ancient Egypt, Greece and Mexico.
Gold disc found at Myceanae near Greece – possibly dating from 1350 BC
In classical myth, Psyche, which translates as ‘soul’, is represented in the form of a butterfly or as a young woman with butterfly wings. She’s also linked with Eros the Greek God of love. It is also a potent representation of rebirth and in this aspect, the Celts revered it. Some of the Ancient Mexican tribes such as the Aztec and Mayans used carvings of butterflies to decorate their buildings as certain butterfly species were considered to be reincarnations of the souls of dead warriors. The Hopi and Navaho tribes of Native American Indians performed the Butterfly Dance and viewed them as symbols of change and transformation.
The butterfly is an archetypal image of resurrection in Christianity and this meaning is derived from the 3 stages of a butterfly’s life. These are: 1st stage = the caterpillar, 2nd stage = the chrysalis and 3rd and final stage = the butterfly. So the sequence is life, death and resurrection. The emergence of the butterfly from the chrysalis is likened to the soul discarding the flesh. It has been depicted on Ancient Christian tombs and, in Christian art, Christ has been shown holding a butterfly. It is supposed to appear chiefly on childrens memorials but the two that I’ve seen were on adult memorials.
Butterflies also feature in Victorian mourning jewellery and there is a fascinating article on this with some lovely examples at:
In the 20th century, butterflies appeared in the flowing, organic lines of Art Nouveau and often featured in jewellery and silverware.
Face and butterfly on exterior of chapel.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
This example is from the Watts Chapel in Surrey and shows the flowing lines and stylised butterfly. They also appear in vanitas paintings, the name given to a particular category of symbolic works of art and especially those associated with the still life paintings of the 16th and 17th centuries in Flanders and the Netherlands. In these the viewer was asked to look at various symbols within the painting such as skulls, rotting fruit etc and ponder on the worthlessness of all earthly goods and pursuits as well as admiring the artist’s skill in depicting these. Butterflies in this context can be seen as fleeting pleasure as they have a short life of just two weeks.
Vanitas Still Life – Maria van Oosterwijck (1630-16930
Maria van Oosterwijck [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
The Nature as a Symbol of Vanitas Abraham Mignon created between 1665-1679.
Abraham Mignon [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Butterfly traditions
There are many superstitions and beliefs associated with butterflies. They are often regarded as omens, good and bad, or as an advance messenger indicating that a visitor or loved one is about to arrive. In Japan, they are traditionally associated with geishas due to their associations with beauty and delicate femininity.
Butterfly & Chinese wisteria by Xu Xi Early Sing Dynasty c970. By Xü Xi (Scanned from an old Chinese book) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
The Chinese see them as good luck and a symbol of immortality. Sailors thought that if they saw one before going on ship it meant that they would die at sea . In Devon it was traditional to kill the first butterfly that you saw or have a year of bad luck as a result. In Europe the butterfly was seen as the spirit of the dead and, in the Gnostic tradition, the angel of death is often shown crushing a butterfly underfoot. In some areas in England, it’s thought that butterflies contain the souls of children who have come back to life. A butterfly’s colours can also be significant. A black one can indicate death and a white one signifies the souls or the departed. It’s also a spiritual symbol of growth in that sometimes the past has to be discarded in order to move forward as the butterfly sheds its chrysalis to emerges complete. So it can indicate a turning point or transition in life. There are also shamanistic associations with the butterfly’s shapeshifting and it has also been claimed as a spiritual animal or totem.
Another view of the Brompton Butterfly surrounded by an ivy wreath.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
An example of a stylised butterfly on a tombstone in Brompton Cemetery in London. Unfortunately the epitaph is now unreadable. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Brompton Cemetery, tomb unknown
This example with its wings outstretched is from Brompton Cemetery in London. Alas, the epitaph appears to have vanished over time and the surrounding vegetation was so luxuriant that I will have to return in the winter to investigate further. Note the wreath of ivy that surrounds it. Ivy is an evergreen and is a token of eternal life and memories. The wreath’s ribbons are also nicely carved.
The Gordon monument, Kensal Green
The second one is perched on the tomb of John Gordon Esquire, a Scotsman from Aberdeenshire who died young at only 37. As the epitaph states ‘it was erected to his memory as the last token of sincere love and affection by his affectionate widow’. Gordon came from an extended family of Scottish landowners who had estates in Scotland and plantations in Tobago amongst other interests. The monument is Grade II listed and is made of Portland stone with a York stone base and canopy supported by the pillars. There was an urn on the pedestal between the four tapering stone pillars but this was stolen in 1997.
John Gordon’s epitaph – he was only 38 when he died and it was erected by his affectionate widow as ‘last token of sincere love and esteem.’ Kensal Green Cemetery
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The Gordon Monument in Kensal Green Cemetery. There are traces of something once being in place – perhaps an urn – on the platform between the pillars.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The butterfly also has an ouroboros encircling it so, not only a symbol or resurrection, but also of eternity with the tail devouring snake. It is a little hard to see but it is there.
The butterfly symbol of the roof of the Gordon monument Kensal Green Cemetery. copyright Carole Tyrrell
The pharaonic heads at each corner are Egyptian elements within an ostensibly classically inspired monument. Acroteria, or acroterion as is its singular definition, are an architectural ornament. The ones on this monument are known as acroteria angularia. The ‘angularia’ means at the corners.
Detail of the rood of the monument – note the Pharaonic head, one at each corner, and another glimpse of the butterfly. Kensal Green Cemetry
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Close- up of one of the four Pharaonic heads on the Gordon monument. Kensal Green Cemetery
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The entire monument is based on an illustration of the monument of the Murainville family in Pugin’s Views of Paris of 1822 and also on Moliere’s memorial which are both at Pere Lachaise in Paris.
The Gordon memorial incorporates elements of the Egyptian style and symbolism that influenced 19th century funerary monuments after the first Egyptian explorations. Kensal Green contains many significant examples and there are others to be found in Brompton, Highgate and Abney Park. The Victorians regarded the Egyptians highly as it was also a cult of the dead.
So when you next see a butterfly fluttering on the breeze or even perched on a memorial for eternity remember its importance within the tradition of symbols, religions and cultures. Who knows it might be one of your ancestors…..
A memorial from West Norwood Cemetery. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Yes shadowsflyaway is one year old this month!
I’ve really enjoyed researching, writing and posting my entries – it’s been wonderful to have an opportunity to immerse myself in history again and to meet other interesting cemetery enthusiasts via cyberspace. Please keep sending your comments.
So let’s raise a glass, cup or mug and celebrate and revel in being taphophiles. After all everyone has to have a hobby….without cemeteries where would all those eager Pokemon Go enthusiasts go?
This photo was taken in West Norwood Cemetery near the Columbarium – every time I visit there is is always a glass jar or vase containing fresh flowers placed on the shelf. I thought it looked appropriate.
The Unknown Mourner West Norwood June 2016
copyright Carole Tyrrell.
Before and after cleaning
I recently visited West Norwood Cemetery to see their celebrated catacombs. They are well worth seeing if you have the chance but please note that you must be a member of the Friends of West Norwood Cemetery to be able to visit them. This is for Health and Safety and insurance reasons. While I was waiting for the rest of the participants to arrive I looked around for the recumbent statue of the Unknown Mourner.
This is a large statue of a naked, prostate mourning woman which was, when I first saw her, was under some bushes on the forecourt in front of the main entrance gates. Then she moved inside the gates and I next saw her lying on some waste ground during renovations. No-one knows, or is probably ever likely to know, to which grave she belongs. The Unknown Mourner is undoubtedly a victim of Lambeth Council’s notorious clearances of West Norwood during the 1960’s. They just bulldozed anything , including listed memorials and monuments, without any recordkeeping until they were stopped by an ecclesiastical court.
But this time the Mourner was a gleaming pristine white which has revealed details of the sculpture that I’d never noticed before. I had always assumed that she was meant to be the uniform dull grey as that was the colour of the stone but what a difference a good clean has made. However, it’s unfortunate that discoloured water has gathered by her feet which make it look as if she’s stepped in something nasty. But it’s such a pleasure to see her looking so good and basking in the sunshine in the middle of rose bushes. Wherever her owner is within the cemetery I’m sure they would be pleased.
A pelican in her piety. Detail of monument, The Drake Chapel, St Mary’s Amersham.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
This is a more unusual symbol to find in cemeteries and dates from pre-Christian times. There are two versions of the legend. In one, the pelican pierces her own breast to feed her children with her own blood and in the second she feeds her dying children with her own blood to bring them back to life but as a result she dies herself. In both of them the pelican is a potent motif of self-sacrifice and charity. It’s also seen as a powerful representation of Christ’s Passion in that he gave his life for us and rose again. The symbol is known as a pelican in her piety.
However, the legend of the pelican is found in Physiologies, an anonymous Christian work from Alexandria which dates from the 2nd century. It contained legends of animals and their allegorical interpretations which is where the attribution of the pelican’s sacrifice to the Passion of Christ come from. It states that
‘ the pelican is very fond of its brood, but when the young ones begin to grow they rebel against the male bird (the father) and provoke his anger, so that he kills them, the mother returns to the nest in three day, sits on the dead birds, pours her blood over them, revives them, and they feed on the blood.
The pelican in its piety was very popular during the Middle Ages and can be found on altar fronts, fonts and misericords in churches. Also, when tabernacles were occasionally suspended over the altar, they were shaped like pelicans as was one in Durham Cathedral.
Later, in St Thomas Aquinas’s hymn ‘Adoro te devote.’ or Humbly we adore thee’, in the penultimate verse he describes Christ as:
‘the loving divine pelican able to provide nourishment for his breast’
In Nicholas Hilliard’s famous 1573 portrait of Elizabeth I which is known colloquially as the Pelican portrait she wears a prominent piece of jewellery which features a pelican feeding her young with her blood which symbolised her role as Mother of the Nation.
Detail of The Pelican Portrait showing pelican piercing her own brhttp://www.npg.org.uk/research/programmes/making-art-in-tudor-britain/the-phoenix-and-the-pelican-two-portraits-of-elizabeth-i-c.1575.phpeast to feed young.
The pelican also appears in Shakespeare’s Hamlet in Act IV in which Laertes says:
‘To his good friend thus wide,
I’ll open my arms.
And, like the kind life-rendering pelican
Repast them with my blood.’
The renowned bird appears in key Renaissance literature. For example, Dante in The Divine Comedy refers to Christ as ‘our Pelican’. John Lyly in Euphues of 1606 also wrote:
‘Pelicane who striketh blood out of its own owne bodye to do others good.’
John Skelton wrote in 1529 in his Armorie of Birds:
‘They sayd the Pellycan’
When my Byrds be slayne
With my bloude I them nevyve. Scripture doth record the same dyd as our Lord
And rose from deth to lyve.’
However, the belief that the pelican nourishes her children with her own blood is a myth. It may have arisen from the fact that pelicans have a large pouch attached under their bill. When the parent is about to feed its chicks, it macerates small fish in this pouch and then whilst pressing the bag against its breast, it transfers the food to the babies.
However, its use in Victorian cemeteries may indicate a resurrection motif in that the pelican gives er life to her children so that they are resurrected. It is quite a rare one to find although it does appear within churches especially on wall memorials, altars and fonts.
This is a sculpture from a church in Germany. copyright Andreas Praefcke
This is a magnificent impressive pelican sculpture from a church in Germany.
There is an impressive monument in a Cuban cemetery which has a large marble pelican and children carving on it and there is also one on a memorial in Arnos Vale Cemetery near Bristol. This is an especially poignant one as is it is to a young doctor, Joseph Williams, who insisted on treating the local workhouse inmates for cholera, during the 1849 Bristol epidemic. Sadly, and perhaps inevitably, he succumbed to it himself and subsequently died. Here the pelican and her young are a true representation of self-sacrifice.
This is one is in my local church, St Georges in Beckenham and appears on a monument to Dame Ann Frances Hoare who died in 1800 at 64.
A pelican feeding her brood wit her own blood. Detail of monument in St George’s Church, Beckenham.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The pelican in its piety. The Hoare memorial, St Georges, Beckenham.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The Hoare memorial, St Georges church, Beckenham.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
And this one is from the Drake Room in St Mary’s Church Amersham.
A pelican in her piety. Detail of monument, The Drake Chapel, St Mary’s Amersham.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Monument to Rev Frank in the Drake Chapel, St Mary’s Amersham with pelican at the right hand side.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Here is a more recent use of the Pelican in her piety on a World War II blood donor appeal.
View of Castle when derelict and boarded up in 2008 copyright Carole Tyrrell
Severndroog Castle hides teasingly behind its cover of ancient trees but it can be seen from miles around if you know where to look. It perches on its hilltop, looking down and over the suburbs and landmarks below as it has done since 1784. But it’s not a proper castle. Instead Severndroog is one of the largest memorials to a single person ever created and is a much loved local landmark.
But, after walking up Shooters Hill, following the sign post and following the paths bordered by verdant hedges and a field you may start wondering where the Castle is. And then as you round the path’s curve the Castle begins to slowly, almost reluctantly, come into view. The only sound is birdsong or perhaps a dog walker calling to their dogs and you’re in the midst of one of the oldest woodlands in London.
The castle comes into view as you come around the path’s curve.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
View in June 2016 – virtually impossible not to get the railings in the picture.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The Castle nestles within Oxleas Wood which is reputed to be 8,000 years old and you’re aware that the outside world has retreated completely. In 2004, ‘Alice Through the Looking Glass’, was performed nearby in the woods on a lovely summer’s evening. Tweedledum and Tweedledee, Humpty Dumpty, the White Knight, even Jabberwocky, appeared and disappeared before our very eyes as they led us through the dark forest.
Severndroog almost belongs in Alice. It’s dainty, a fairy tale creation of a castle. A triangular building with hexagonal turrets at each corner, it was designed by the architect, Richard Jupp who was known for creating light houses. It stands 63 feet or 19 metres high and has been compared to Horace Walpole’s magnificent Strawberry Hill as they shared similar decorative features. These include circular windows and decorative ceilings. The battlements and turrets are why Severndroog is called a castle, although it was never designed to be a fortification. Instead it was originally a summerhouse and a memorial. It was known as Lady James’s Folly after the woman who had it built in 1784.
She was the widow of Sir William James of the East India Company who defeated pirates and captured the brigand castle of Suvarndurg, hence Severndroog, an island fortress of the Maratha Empire on India’s West Coast between Mumbai and Goa in 1755. . A plaque over the entrance to the Castle commemorates this although it’s not that easy to read now. He died of a stroke on his daughter’s wedding day in 1783 presumably after receiving the bill..
Plaque commemorating Sr William James victory in India. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Lady James filled the first floor of the Castle with mementos of him and would sit amongst his swords, armour and clothes to remember him. If you look up at the doorway of one of the oddly proportioned rooms you may see some very decorative original Georgian artwork. Now the room is used for weddings but was empty when I last visited and you could still see the dumb waiter from the Castle’s days as a tea room set into its floor. Locals could still recall enjoying a cuppa and then spending a penny to climb the spiral staircase to the roof.
Sir William James 1784 painted by Joshua Reynolds.
from Wikipedia
Lady Anne James with her daugther
copyright englandevents.co.uk
Lady James bought the highest land in Eltham and reputedly had the Castle constructed within sight of her own house. It stands at least 40ft further above sea level than the cross on top of St Paul’s Cathedral. From Severndroog’s roof you can, on a clear day, see 20 miles in all directions and across 7 counties over the treetops in 360°. As a result of this advantageous vantage point, Severndroog was used as a radar station and air raid lookout during the Second World. A barrage balloon floated above the Castle during the war and, due to the leafy covering of trees, it might still be there. However, there have been pirates aboard Severndroog but manning illegal radio stations from a turret.
Lady James died in 1798 and the Castle passed through various owners. But there’s always been plans for it. In 1847 there was a proposal to build a 10,000 catacomb cemetery in terraces on the site and in 1922 the London County Council bought it and opened the first tea room. Eventually in 1986, it became the property of Greenwich Council who boarded it up and left it. Vandalised and abandoned, in 2002, the council suggested that it be leased to a property developer to be converted to dull offices. No doubt the shopping centre was next. A preservation trust was formed, the Castle appeared on BBC’s Restoration and slowly the Castle came back to life.
Severndroog Castle Winter 2010. Another view as you approach it along the drive.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Severndroog Castle in Winter 2010. Still boarded up and derelict but still beautiful.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
I first visited the Castle when it was still boarded up. It completely enchanted me as soon as I saw it. I only knew that it was a folly but nothing of its history and how it came to be built. I remember thinking that it would have been perfect for Rapunzel with its tall walls and turrets. I revisited it during the heavy snows of 2010 when its dark walls stood out starkly against the bare trees and branches and the surrounding white. On both visits it seemed like a secret castle, my own personal one. The spectacular view over the rose garden below its slopes is breathtaking as the suburban sprawl stretches into the distance.
View over rose garden below the Castle as suburbia stretches on into the distance. copyright Carole Tyrrell
In June 2016 I revisited the Castle after its restoration and renovations. It had re-opened on 20 July 2014 with a new ground floor tea room and the rooms had been spruced up. I re-climbed the 86 steps of the spiral staircase to the roof to admire the view once again. The Millennium Wheel on the horizon, the 02 on my right hand side with the Thames snaking past it and the view just stretched on and on. Below us was the tree canopy as parakeets swooped and screeched amongst the branches.
View over Blackheath from the roof top.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
View over a turret and the tree tops below.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Severndroog is one of my favourite places in London and I would love to live there. Imagine climbing the spiral staircase every day to lob missiles at any marauding property developers or letting down my newly acquired hair extensions to allow friends to climb up to the roof to admire the view. As I climbed down the staircase again I thought how pleased Lady James would be that the Castle is still there, still being used and admired and preserving her husband’s memory and her vision.
The Couture memorial in Nunhead Cemetery – very ornate and to a son who died in infancy. copyright Carole Tyrrell
This is one of the most common symbols in a Victorian cemetery and visitors on my tour often ask about it. Initially the handshakes may all look the same but, if you look carefully, there are differences. Although a handshake is a traditional way of saying goodbye or farewell, as with other funerary motifs, it can have several meanings.
For example, it can signify the parting of a wife from her husband or vice versa and this is demonstrated by the fact that on several examples that I’ve seen there are two carefully delineated cuffs. One will have a more attractive, perhaps a frilly one, with the other having a plainer one to indicate the husband. This emphasises a marital connection or at the very least a close bond. It has also been suggested that the deceased person is holding the other’s hand to guide them to heaven.
The full tombstone to Emma Eliza Pavey with ivy for evergreen surrounding the handshake. Nunhead Cemetery. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Emma Pavey’s tombstone in Nunhead Cemetery. Note the inscription above the handshake saying ‘We shall meet again’. A comforting thought to those left behind.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
This epitaph is to Eliza Pavey and the differentiation of the cuffs can be seen quite clearly on the handshake. Also his right hand clasps her open right hand with his fingers overlapping. On this tombstone it confirms marriage or a close bond between individuals, unity and affection even after death. There is also a saying above it which reads ‘We shall meet again’. Eliza left behind a sorrowing husband who clearly wanted the comfort of knowing that they would meet again in the after-life. Note the ivy leaves surrounding the handshake which indicate evergreen or everlasting. She died at 54, which is quite a young age at which to die, and her husband, Robert, outlasted her by another 20 years.
This is on the monument to Edwin Roscoe Mullins a 19th century sculptor. copyright Carole Tyrrell
A particularly striking and beautifully carved example is on the Edward Roscoe Mullins vault. There are several examples within Nunhead Cemetery but these are the best in my opinion. Mullins was a Victorian sculptor and began his career working with classical themes and then moved onto municipal sculpture such as on Croydon Town Hall amongst others. This has been extremely well sculpted, in my opinion, with the two hands and cuffs being sharply defined.
The handshake can also be a representation of hope as there is a suggestion of meeting again in the afterlife.
The full memorial – note the ivy for evergreen or everlasting on the lower pillars. A lovely monument to a much loved child who died in infancy copyright Carole Tyrrell
This is the poignant memorial to Ronald Robert Couture who died in his infancy at just over 3 months old. The handshake is garlanded with flowers; roses which represented love, beauty and hope and also daffodils which meant regard in floriography, the language of flowers. There is a rosebud in the garland which often appears on childrens memorials. It represents a life unfulfilled, a rose that never opened and bloomed. There is also ivy entwined around the two pillars. This beautiful and elegant monument to an obviously much wanted and much missed child would indicate that here the handshake is a hopeful sign.
The handshake may also be a reminder of ‘see you soon’ from the deceased to their sorrowing close relatives which may not be as comforting as it sounds with the Victorians high mortality rate.
Ultimately, the handshake is a symbol of comfort and reassurance from the departed to those left behind and in the case of Ronald Couture, that his brief life was not forgotten.
Autumn view over the churchyard showing the cloisters from the road oustide. copyright Carole Tyrrell
The golden autumn sunshine of the last afternoon had created long shadows and bathed the leaves on the trees in gold. It was one of those autumn days on which you’re glad to be outdoors to make the most of the last golden days before the dark season sets in. Once you’ve gorged yourself on the beautiful Watts Chapel, make sure that you have left yourself enough time to explore the churchyard. This is a tranquil place which was created by Mary Watts and Compton Parish Council and has gorgeous views over the surrounding countryside from the cloister at the top of the hill. From the road outside we could see the cloister and several of the terracotta memorials, two of which are Grade II listed. The Wattses erected the picturesque oak lych gate at the entrance in 1897. Mary Watts’ terracotta wellhead, encircled by a yew hedge, is along the left hand path. This was designed in 1906 and also Grade II listed. There are inscriptions on its top sides; ‘ the lord god planted a garden eastward in eden and a river went out of eden to water the garden.’
The Wattses also gave this to the churchyard in 1897. Made from oak with a brick floor.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
View of Compton wellhead and encircling yew hedge.
copyright flickrhivemend
One of the figures on one side of the Art Nouveau well head in Compton churchyard.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Mary Watts and the Parish Council laid out the cemetery which is also known as the Watts cemetery, in 1895-8. It’s Grade II listed and was created as the old Compton churchyard was completely full. At an 1894 meeting of the Parish Council it was proposed to buy land from the nearby Loseley estate and the Council agreed to raise a sum of £1300 from the poor rate of the parish for the purpose of ‘providing and laying out a Burial ground and building the necessary Chapel or Chapels thereon.’ Mary Watts wrote to the Council a year later, offering to build a cemetery chapel, with her husband’s financial help and inspiration. Evergreens were planted which included cedars and yews and Mary planted the Irish yews. The graveyard and chapel were consecrated by the Bishop of Winchester on 1 July 1898. It was extended in 1950 and a garden of remembrance was added in 1959. The Parish Council still own and manage the cemetery.
The graveyard feels like a much older cemetery and a real part of the community. It was created from local materials and local people with Mary Watts as part of the Compton Potters Guild. As with the Watts Chapel it’s in the Arts and Crafts style that was popular at the time. Mary was fully involved with the churchyard as, from September 1896, she sat on the Parish Council sub-committee that was responsible for the graveyard together with the rector of St Nicholas, H H Gillett, the Loseley landowner William More-Molyneux and Mr Andrews, estate steward at Limnerslease, the Wattses nearby home. It was landscaped in the Romantic style with winding paths and the choice of trees was designed to inspire feelings of mourning and contemplation.
Another view of the cloisters, Compton churchyard. copyright Carole Tyrrell
The cloister was added in 1907. It keeps to a similar Italianate theme as the Chapel. Again, it’s also Grade II listed and has been compared to the loggia in Postmens Park. This was G F Watts, Mary’s husband, memorial to self-sacrifice near St Paul’s in the City of London. There is a memorial to G F Watts on the cloister wall with a small recumbent statue of ‘Signor’ as Mary called him flanked by two seated cherubs. Mary’s memorial tablet is also there.
Another view of the cloisters, Compton churchyard.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Signor at rest on his memorial in the Compton churchyard cloisters.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Cherub on G F Watts memorial in Compton churchyard cloisters.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The memorial tablet To Mary Seton Watts, Compton churchyard.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
We didn’t have enough time to find the two Grade II listed memorials; one to Margery Gillett, the Rector’s wife and the other to a novelist, Julian Russell Sturgis(1848 – 1904). We also didn’t find the Huxley family grave either as the author of 1932’s Brave New World, Aldous Huxley’s, ashes are interred with his parents. We did find some m
Moss has etched out the epitaph in an organic way and the sweet little mouse on the terracotta book makes this a lovely memorial. copyright Carole Tyrrell
The recumbent Celtic Cross from a 1904 memorial is being reclaimed and enhanced by moss.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
A lovely Art Norveau memorial. There is a very similar on in Golders Green Crematorium’s cloisters. copyright Carole Tyrrell
The churchyard is still open for burials and we did find one recent terracotta memorial dating from 2012.
A modern terracotta memorial in Compton churchyard copyright Carole Tyrrell
The Chapel and churchyard are the result of one woman’s vision and determination to create a lasting memorial to her husband and to give something lasting to the community. I was full of admiration for Mary Seton Watts as she has left a lasting tribute to Signor and to herself. A significant artist in her right, she was obviously extremely capable, talented and a born organiser. Thanks to her and to Signor, there is a unique place in the Surrey hills for which she will always be remembered.
Watts Chapel; An Arts & Crafts Memorial, Veronica Gould & Joanna Howse, Books for Dillons, published 2 October 1993 (NB: This may be out of print but the Gallery may still have a few copies)
Exterior View of Compton Chapel in autumn. copyright Carole Tyrrell
On a Surrey hillside near Guildford, hidden behind tall Irish yews, nestles a secret jewel of the Arts and Crafts movement. It’s a short walk from the Watts Gallery along a busy road with no proper pavement so be careful but it will be worth it. This leads you to Compton churchyard. Walk in under the lychgate and climb the twisting, winding path that leads you up through the trees to a building that looks as though it belongs in Italy instead of England. Unique is an often over-used word but here it’s the only one that adequately describes the beautiful structure before you. It’s the exceptional and intriguing Watts Memorial Chapel.
The Grade 1 listed chapel is best viewed on a sunny day when its terracotta walls turn to orange and the dazzling reliefs, figures and symbols on the frieze around its exterior become three dimensional. Walk around the outside of the chapel and marvel at the sumptuous combination of Celtic, Art Nouveau and Romanesque patterns and styles. The calm faces of angels look down surrounded by stylised animals, birds and labyrinths.
Section of exterior frieze around Chapel. copyright Carole Tyrrell
This is a building created by love and faith. The metal cross on the imposing Romanesque entrance door was inspired by one on Iona. The pillars on each side contain the letters ‘I AM’ symbolising God as creator guarding a kneeling, reading man surrounded by animals and insects. In many ways this doorway reminds me of the entrance to the little terracotta mausoleum at Nunhead Cemetery . A carved border of angels’ faces looks down at you, as your eyes are drawn up to the Garment of Praise above them. This resembles an embroidered wall hanging but in clay, depicting angels blowing trumpets, phoenixes and birds.
Face and butterfly on exterior of chapel.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Exterior of chapel showing the Art Nouveau faces and other motifs over the door.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Close-up of faces over door to the Watts Chapel.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Entering the chapel, after ensuring that neither of the ginger and white cemetery cats, obviously art lovers, haven’t followed you in, is like going into darkness from light. I’d seen the cats on previous visits but on my trip in October 2015 they were nowhere to be seen. Take time for your eyes to adjust. Pale faces suspended in the shadows watch you. Then suddenly the light through the tall narrow windows begins to illuminate the glittering, swirling ‘glorified wallpaper.’ All around the dome’s walls are lifesize pairs of angels in red and green, either staring towards or away from you. The ones facing you are angels of light and the ones looking away are angels of darkness. Symbolic medallions around them intertwine with the sinuous Art Nouveau whiplash and golden tendrils of the Tree of Life. The upraised arms of the angels direct your eyes to the dome’s roof and to the 100 cherubs’ faces on the crosspieces, the four larger angels on each of the corbels and finally the sun in the roof’s centre.
interior view of Watts Chapel showing one of the Celtic inspired Angels of light. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Interior View 2 of Watts Chapel showing angels of light and dark – the dark angels are turned away from the viewer.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Interior of chapel with angels.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The gilded terracotta altar is opposite the entrance.
Interior view showing altar, angels and cherubs.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Interior view showing altar and angels. The painting on the altar is Watts The All-Pervading which he painted 3 months before his death. copyright Carole Tyrrell
Interior with altar and a better view of Watts painting.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Incredibly, the Watts Chapel was created by an amateur. Mary Watts, the devoted second wife of the Victorian painter, George Frederic Watts (1817-1904), designed the entire building without any prior experience. It must be one of the very few 19th century buildings designed by a woman. Mary dedicated it to:
“the loving memory of all who find rest near its walls, and for the comfort and help of those to whom the sorrow of separation remains“.
She formed the Compton Potters Guild with local villagers and they assisted with the carvings and gesso decorations. A coachman modelled the angels’ faces above the entrance. Even the local children each painted a leaf, a flower or fruit on the interior walls. She also saw the Guild as a way of keeping the locals occupied and away from bad influences such as drink. The chapel was her husband, G F Watts’, gift to the village of Compton. He was also known as Signor and financed the building by painting commissioned portraits.
The Chapel was begun in 1895 and the gesso interior painting was completed in 1904. The Archbishop of Canterbury attended the consecration ceremony, together with Signor, amongst others. The Watts lived at ‘Limnerslease’ which was near the churchyard and it was from their grounds that the clay to build the chapel came. Burne- Jones, the Pre-Raphaelite painter, somewhat unkindly, renamed the house ‘Dauber’s Den’ which reveals how G F Watts was viewed by some of his contemporaries. The Gallery has had a refurbishment and Watts’ paintings now have interpretation boards and are better displayed with additional sculptures.
However, although G F Watts was a celebrated painter in his day he has fallen out of favour as have other artists of his time. He was notorious for marrying the actress Ellen Terry who was just 17 to his 47 and it barely lasted a year. Mary was his second wife and 36 years his junior. She was an inventive and accomplished artist in her own right and devoted herself to her husband and his memory. Signor painted Society portraits and subjects taken from mythology such as ‘Clytie’ and moral, storytelling pictures. But he was also an important precursor of Symbolism with such work as ‘The Sower of the Systems’. 2004 was his centenary year and he was commemorated with an exhibition at the nearby Watts Gallery and the National Portrait Gallery.
However the Watts Chapel isn’t for everyone. Some may find it too overpowering in its use of symbols and extravagant decoration and others may see it as an indulgent folly. But to me it’s a uniquely spiritual building. Mrs Watts used many sources for her creation including the Book of Kells and Egyptian sphinxes, and I find it fascinating to discover the symbols used and decipher their meaning or simply just enjoy them.
The Watts Gallery sells an excellent book on the meaning of the carvings and the chapel’s background, if you wish to explore further. They also have further examples of the work of the Potters Guild which finally closed in the 1950’s and their works are now collectors items. West Norwood cemetery has a piece on a grave. However, the Gallery does sell modern reproductions and had some on display on my visit in 2015. There is also an excellent tea shop at the gallery.
NB: Please remember that the chapel is also a parish building and may be in use on some days.
Watts Chapel; An Arts & Crafts Memorial, Veronica Gould & Joanna Howse, Books for Dillons, published 2 October 1993 (NB: This may be out of print but the Gallery may still have a few copies)
A fine ouroboros on top of one of the piers at Nunhead Cemetery’s imposing Linden Grove entrance.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Another view of the ouroboros – one on each side -Nunhead Cemetery.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
For every end there is a beginning.
This is only one of the several positive and powerful meanings of the ouroboros which is one of the most ancient symbols known to man. It’s depicted as a snake eating its own tail to sustain its life in an eternal cycle of renewal and it usually forms a full circle. It occurs in many cultures, religions and beliefs. The psychologist, Jung, called it an archetype which is best described as
‘a primitive mental image inherited from the earliest human ancestors, and supposed to be present in the collective unconscious.’
The ouroboros appears in Victorian cemeteries as a symbol of resurrection. The snake is reborn as it sheds its skin and this fine example is on each of the 4 sides on top of the columns at the imposing entrance to Nunhead Cemetery, London. Victorian visitors would have understood its meaning. As a resurrection image it can be very positive as some of its other attributes are immortality, eternity and wisdom. However, as with most symbols , it can have several meanings. These include the Universe’s cyclic nature and life out of death. It constantly appears to return as it sheds its skin and, Phoenix-like, has a cycle of life, death and rebirth.
There is also a magnificent ouroboros on the gates of Sheffield General Cemetery and one in Highgate Cemetery West on the doors to a mausoleum. It inspired the tattoo worn proudly by Jeane Trend-Hill a photographer and fellow cemetery explorer.
Photographer and fellow cemetery enthusiast, Jeane Trend-Hill’s ouroboros tattoo and Whitby mourning bracelet based on one in Highgate. copyright Jeane Trend-Hill Used with kind permission.
This is the mausoleum to which the ouroboros belongs.
Note downturned torches on doors.
copyright Jeane Trend-Hill and used with kind permission.
A lovely picture of an ouroboros on a mausoleum in Highgate West.
copyright Jeane Trend -Hill – used with kind permission
But the ouroboros’ origins lie in either ancient Greece or Egypt as both cultures have claimed it. In Greece, Plato described it as ‘the first living thing, a self-eating, circular being’. In fact, the Greek translation of ouroboros is ‘tail devouring snake’ and it’s associated with something constantly recreating itself and the eternal return.
In Egypt, the ouroboros reputedly appears for the first time in the 14th century BC in Tutenkhamen’s tomb on an ancient funerary text. This depicts the Sun God Ra and his union with Osiris in the underworld and is illustrated with two serpents , holding their tails in their mouths, coiled around hands and feet. This may be a representation of the unified Ra-Osiris. Both serpents are reputedly the manifestation of the god Mehen, who in other funerary texts protect Ra in his underworld journey. I haven’t been able to find an image of this particular representation but I did find this one which purports to be even older.
It’s from a papyrus dated 1077 – 943BC, from the papyrus of Dama and is of the ouroboros surrounding the Sun-Ra.
The ouroboros appears in Hindu, Norse, Aztec and Chinese religions. It’s also a significant alchemical symbol as well and features in Cleopatra the Alchemist’s work. There are also Masonic associations from seals dating from the 17th century.
In fact, on a recent edition of BBC TV’s Antiques Roadshow shown on Sunday 1 May 2016, a triangular Masonic clock was shown and among its several motifs was an ouroboros. In China it can also take the form of a dragon. In the Waite deck of Tarot cards it features on the Magician card.
I found this quote online:
‘In other myths the ouroboros encircles the whole world, a circumference of the waters surrounding the earth. It can support and maintain the world and also inject death into life and life into death. Although apparently immobile, it’s actually in perpetual motion, forever recoiling upon itself.’
Here is a selection of ouroboros representations from other cultures:
Gnostic gem from Roman-era Egypt (1st century AD), with an ouroboros surrounding a scarab and voces magicae, characters representing magic words Wikipedia.com
Early alchemical ouroboros illustration. From the work ofCleopatra the Alchemist (Greco-Roman Egypt).
wikipedia.com
One of the many fascinating myths surrounding the ouroboros is the experience of the chemist, August Kekule, who was trying to discover the structure of benzene. This is how he described his Eureka moment :
‘I was sitting, writing at my text-book; but the work did not progress; my thoughts were elsewhere. I turned my chair to the fire and dozed. Again the atoms were gambolingbefore my eyes. This time the smaller groups kept modestly in the background. My mental eye, rendered more acute by the repeated visions of the kind, could now distinguish larger structures of manifold conformation: long rows, sometimes more closely fitted together; all twining and twisting in snake-like motion. But look! What was that? One of the snakes had seized hold of its own tail, and the form whirled mockingly before my eyes. As if by a flash of lightning I awoke; and this time also I spent the rest of the night in working out the consequences of the hypothesis.’
As I said earlier, Jung would see this dream as evidence of the ouroboros and its effect on the collective unconscious.
Although the ouroboros is usually depicted as a full circle, this is one that I found in my local church. On first glance, it merely looks like an attractive, rippling border around the name Harriet and It dates from 1815. But on a recent visit, I looked closer and realised that it was actually composed of 2 entwined snakes, each biting their own tail. When I spoke to a churchwarden, she had always thought that, due to the patterning on the snakes’ bodies, that it was two entangled pieces of rope. It is a memorial to a young wife who died aged 25 after suffering the ‘most acute and lingering pains.’ So it would have been a potent reminder of resurrection.
What initially looks like a simple pattern is two snakes entwined – tail to head. copyright Carole Tyrrell
The entire monument to Harriet.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Close-up of the snakes.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
Harriet’s epitaph and obviously much missed.
copyright Carole Tyrrell
The ouroboros is one of the most intriguing and interesting symbols that I have researched so far. A universal image of rebirth and hope.
![Butterfly & Chinese wisteria by Xu Xi Early Sing Dynasty c970. By Xü Xi (Scanned from an old Chinese book) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](https://shadowsflyaway.blog/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/butterfly-chinesewiki.jpg)
shadows fly away 
