Tag: headstones

The pet cemetery of Lamb House, Rye, April 2025

On By shadowsflyawayIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

View of Lamb House pets cemetery © Carole Tyrrell

In April, I was on a literary weekend in Sussex and Kent. We made the town of Rye our base. The town has a rich literary tradition with several famous writers having lived there.  Several of them were lucky enough to live at Lamb House, a red brick Georgian house with spacious rooms and a garden that was just beginning to take shape on my visit. Neatly labelled rows of vegetable seedlings gave an indication of what was to come later in the year. There is a magnificent view of St Mary’s church from an upper window and Henry James is commemorated with his writing desk and ‘The Telephone Room’. I love finding pet cemeteries as I find them fascinating and touching.

© Carole Tyrrell

Lamb House is now owned by the National Trust and when I last visited over 20 years ago, it looked very different. There was an upstairs tenant – lucky them! Now the upstairs rooms have been opened to visitors and on my visit there was an exhibition, ‘Ghost Written’, which featured the house’s most well known writers through their ghost stories.

Lamb House Rye Shared under Wiki Commons © Jerrye & Roy Klotz, MD

The American writer, Henry James, (1843-1916) wrote three of his most famous books at Lamb House:  ‘The Wings of the Dove’, ‘The Ambassadors’ and ‘The Golden Bowl’. He discovered Lamb House while visiting a friend and instantly fell in love with it. He leased it in 1897 and, two years later, he finally bought it.

The house appears in his novel, ‘The Awkward Age’, where it is Mr Longdon’s home. During James’s time there a literary circle came into being that included Rudyard Kipling and H G Wells amongst others. In 1916, James was very ill in London and wanted to be taken back to Lamb House but he was too ill to be moved.

He was followed by E F Benson (Edward Frederic) Benson (1867-1940) who is known for his Mapp and Lucia novels which are set in a fictional town called Tilling that was based on Rye. They were adapted and made into a successful TV series. I know him through his ghost stories or ‘spook stories’ as he called them. He became Mayor of Rye twice and was awarded the Freedom of Rye which was the town’s highest award. He is buried in the local cemetery on the outskirts of town.  ‘Fred’ as he was known bequeathed two colourful windows, the East and the West, in the local church, St Mary’s. 

View of Fred Benson’s monument © Carole Tyrrell

Another view of Fred Benson’s monument.© Carole Tyrrell

Other writers who lived at Lamb House were Montgomery Hyde and the prolific author of ‘Black Narcissus’, Rumer Godden.

It was in the south western corner of the garden that I found the pet cemetery which was dedicated to Henry James and Fred Benson’s pet dogs. I remembered it from my first visit where it was hidden behind vegetation.  The cemetery is a small collection of headstones. There are no cats as, although Henry James, was;

‘A great lover of animals he would chase them (cats) away from the garden’

National Trust guidebook

The first headstone in what James called his:

‘domestic mortuary’

was dedicated to Tosca, his black and tan terrier who died in 1899.   

Tosca was followed by Tim who was another terrier, then came:

‘my admirable little Peter’

Then there was another terrier, Nick.  But James’s heart was undoubtedly given to Maximilian or Max, a red dachshund. According to his owner Max had

‘a pedigree as long as Remington Ribbon.’

He also described Max as:

‘the gentlest and most reasonable and well mannered as well as most beautiful small animal of his kind to be easily come across.’

Max loved being taken on long walks but, due to his love of chasing sheep, had to be kept on a long leash. 

Henry was very upset at having to leave Max behind when he went on an  extended trip to the US.  He wrote to his lodgers of his homesickness and how much harder it was when thinking of:

‘poor sweet pawing little Max.’

© Carole Tyrrell

© Carole Tyrrell

© Carole Tyrrell

Fred Benson also adored dogs and his favourite was a collie called Taffy. This is a photo of them together and Taffy is also commemorated in the East Window of St Mary’s church.

From the exhibition, ‘Ghostwritten’ at Lamb House

Taffy is the black dog in the lower part of the window, East window, St Mary’s, Rye. © Carole Tyrrell

© Carole Tyrrell

Rumer Godden loved Pekingese dogs and she owned several throughout her life.

I didn’t recall the pet cemetery being so large but the Trust’s intention is to recreate the garden so that it resembles

‘ the space that delighted and inspired Henry James and Fred Benson’

National Trust guidebook

I found the little cemetery with its little plain, simple stones very touching and a poignant reminder that these much loved pets were not forgotten.  And as I read the names on the stones they seemed to come alive again racing around the garden at play.

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

References and further reading

National Trust guidebook

Lamb House, Rye | History & Photos

Lamb House – Wikipedia

Happy New Year with a couple of mysteries!

On By shadowsflyawayIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Sorrowing woman on headstone, All Saint, Birchington-on-sea, Kent. © Carole Tyrrell

Happy New Year to all my readers and what an auspicious year it is for shadowsflyaway!

It’s 10 years since I began this blog on July 10th 2015 to be exact and some of my readers have been with me since the very beginning. Even now I am still discovering new symbols to write about, little mysteries that I find in churchyards and cemeteries that intrigue and inspire me.

Here are a couple that I found on a Christmas Eve walk in All Saints churchyard, Birchington on Sea. This is where the 19th century Pre-Raphaelite artist, Dante Gabriel Rossetti is buried with a Celtic Cross over his grave. It was a dull grey day, enlivened only by the bright efforts of the town’s yarn bombers.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s grave, All Saints Birchington-on-Sea which is in the form of a Celtic Cross. © Carole Tyrrell

An example of one of Rossetti’s most beautiful paintings, ‘Lady Lilith’.

But these two stood out. The first one was located by the original church door and appeared to be a variant on the mourning woman symbol as a woman, wearing a billowing gown or cloak, weeps over a man’s portrait. He faces her in profile and is dressed in 18th century fashion with a small ponytail and is within an oval frame. She sits with a skull on her lap. The portrait is supported by a large anchor whose rope ripple around and behind it. Above it there are two floating angel heads or winged messengers. The carvings on either side of the tableau were indistinct under the overcast sky. But a sunny day can often bring out details of carvings and epitaphs so I will return. The anchor would indicate a naval man and I have to say that that, on first look, the folds of cloth around the lower half of the woman resembled a mermaid’s tail to me. But that may just be me being more fanciful… It’s an impressive headstone with the central figures still crisp. I would hazard a guess that this is from the 18th century.

A closer view of the sorrowing woman headstone. © Carole Tyrrell

The other one is on a 19th century headstone and features an anvil and tools. On first glance I thought it might belong to the village blacksmith. But it’s dedicated to a woman, Elizabeth Adams. Underneath the motif is what appears to be a quotation which I thought might have come from the Bible. But, so far, I haven’t found anything that resembles it but a burst of bright sunshine could illuminate it further on a future visit.

A closer view of the anvil and tools with quotation partly visible beneath. © Carole Tyrrell

A ship is permanently sailing on Ernest Francis Walker’s headstone with a border of entwined ropes beneath it. The epitaph states that he was a crew member on HMS Vestal and so I presume the carving of a ship is a representation of it. Ernest died young at 22 and there are several ships that bear this name. The one that I think is most likely is a 26 gun sixth rate frigate of the Royal Navy. She was launched in 1833 and sailed in the West Indies and the Caribbean. In 1852 she ran aground near the Needles on the Isle of Wight and was taken to Portsmouth for inspection and repair prior to being decommissioned in 1860 and then broken up in 1862.

I am already looking forward to what else I will discover in 2025 including the spooky angel in a Broadstairs churchyard but I am determined to wait for a really foggy day for that one!

© Text and photos Carole Tyrrell


References and further reading:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Vestal_(1833)

A pre-Coronavirus Spring Saunter though Kent churchyards – St Mildred’s and St John the Evangelist, Meopham, Kent

On By shadowsflyawayIn VisitsLeave a comment

St Mildred’s Meopham
©Carole Tyrrell

The church in the field – St Mildred’s

The cawing of rooks in the bare trees kept me company as I walked towards St Mildred’s in Nurfield, just outside Meopham. It was a dark, wet, overcast day and St Mildred’s huddled surrounded by fields at the end of Church Lane. In fact, it’s known as ‘The Little Church in the Field’.

Kent has many of these picturesque churches and I hoped to discover more symbols or interesting headstones in the churchyard.  Coronavirus was snapping at my heels and I knew that all churches would soon be closed.

On the horizon of one field outside the churchyard I could see the bright yellow traces of a future rapeseed crop but the other field, alongside it, was still ploughed earth.  The bare trees tried to stretch up to the sky on the other side of it. I’ve always loved these in winter as you can really see the shape of the tree and the delicate pattern of branches and twigs.

St Mildred’s was closed but the church door was protected, or hidden, by four tall yew tree sentinels. A pot of purple pansies beside it were a splash of colour on such a grey day.

Pansies by church door of St Mildred’s, Meopham
©Carole Tyrrell

Despite the damp weather there were large patches of Spring flowers; Violets, both purple and white covered parts of the churchyard, together with smaller groups of Lesser Celandine which is one of the seven signs of Spring. Daffodils shuddered in the wind and a group of them huddled together for warmth by headstones.  But I was determined and found the symbol of a closed book on one grave to a man who had died young. The oldest headstone was now unreadable and was decorated with tiny pom-pom shapes of a lichen.  An imposing Celtic Cross was dedicated to a priest. The bright yellow flowers of lesser celandine had closed themselves up and who could blame them? Primroses kept their heads down but in one corner of the churchyard there were indications of living residents.  These were of the four legged kind who had dug deep holes and left pungent evidence…..

Nurstead was described 700 years ago as ‘a poor little parish with a church.’  St Mildred’s was originally a Saxon church and made of wood. The current flint structure dates from the 14th century and the guide leaflet says ’that together with the 14th century hall of nearby Nurstead Court it is the only surviving part of the Manor as it existed in 1349.’

Meopham town sign featuring St John the Evangelist church.
©Carole Tyrrell

Meopham is pronounced Meppham and it’s more of a hamlet than a village.  But it does possess another, larger church at the other end of it.  This is dedicated to St John the Evangelist and appears on the village green town sign. St John’s was open and I gratefully sheltered inside glad of the respite from the weather.

The church on the sign – St John the Evangelist

Inside it was peaceful and St Johns had some interesting features. There was a very decorative wooden pulpit attributed to Grinling Gibbons and dated 1632 and the colourful and beautiful tiles decorating the chancel. They were uncredited in the guidebook. There was also a window containing fragments of medieval glass which have been dated to 1346.   Curling hazel branches had been placed on windowsills and I wondered if it was in honour of Branch Sunday. Outside in the churchyard I explored and my shoes soon became soaking wet. A bonfire had been lit  in an adjoining garden and the combination of that and the gloomy weather made it feel more like November. The Millais painting, ‘Autumn Leaves’, with its melancholy atmosphere sprang to mind.  A patch of primroses cuddled up to each other in a drift of fallen leaves and the Lesser Celandine flowers had closed themselves in response to the rain. A lone dog violet stood in defiantly in the middle of them. It was time to go home.

But when I returned two days on the Saturday it was under sunny blue skies.  St Mildred’s was now open and despite the wind that made the daffodils blow this way and that I noticed that the Spring flowers seemed to have colour again.  The crisp white blossom of blackthorn foamed in one corner as did the Wild Cherry blossom on the other side of the churchyard. Late snowdrops nodded in the wind as I entered the church. The interior was very plain and simple with large ledger stones providing the nave flooring.   The bare fields now looked as if they were impatiently waiting for the forthcoming crop to burst forth. I had hoped to see a March hare but no such luck. The headstones were bathed in the golden glow of the sun and the bright flowers of Lesser Celandine lifted their heads upwards and basked.

These were dedicated to past residents, the Edmeades, of nearby Nurstead Court, and dated back to the 17th century. They are actually buried in the vaults beneath the stones. A squint could be seen in the West Tower and the slow, regular ticking of the church clock was the only sound. St Mildred and her stag featured in the window above the altar and an ancient piscina was decorated with wheat ears and grapes. A reference to a farming community?  The wind howled round the little church as it had done for centuries, as if trying one last time to blow it down, but it still stood.

In contrast St Johns was closed but the bright sunshine revealed several headstones that I had missed.  I’m not quite sure what this figure represents but he does seem to be pointing to the small skull in the corner.

This is on the headstone dedicated to

‘Hannah, wife of Joseph Munn the elder Feb 15th 1715 in either the 34 or 54 year of her age.’

Mr Munn is buried beside in a separate grave with his second wife but not with such an intriguing symbol.

Also this naive head or skull on one headstone.

A Naive skull on a headstone, St John’s, .Meopham
©Carole Tyrrell

 

The sticky buds on a venerable Horse Chestnut tree at the entrance reminded me that despite the horrible weather we’ve had over the last couple of months Mother Nature was just getting on with it as she studded and carpeted churchyards with the bright colours of Spring flowers and blossom.

Sadly, my poking about in churchyards has had to be put on hold this Spring due to the virus. However I did manage to visit two Kent churches just before the lockdown and I will blog about this on a future post. One churchyard was awash with symbols!

I hope that you are keeping well and safe during these strange times.  Life has taken on a surreal quality for some of us as others, keyworkers, keep things going and risk their lives.  Will things return to normal  afterwards or will we not take so much for granted again? Who knows.

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated

References and further reading:

https://kentarchaeology.org.uk/

Guide Leaflet, St Mildred’s church

Ancient stones and new beginnings – a Spring saunter through St Nicholas churchyard, Sevenoaks

On By shadowsflyawayIn Cemetery Wildlife, Uncategorized2 Comments

 

 

Another view of St Nicholas with a war memorial in the foreground.
©Carole Tyrrell

On my previous spring saunters I’ve wandered through two of London’s large, sprawling cemeteries; Kensal Green and West Norwood but this year I thought I’d stay nearer to home.    St Nicholas is my local church and within walking distance of my home.  It’s in a prominent position in the town as it’s at the top of the hill and  opposite the entrance to Knole Park, another local landmark.   One of its most famous Rectors was the preacher and poet, John Donne, who was in post from 1616 until 1631 and is commemorated with a metal plate on the pavement outside. Every time I visit its churchyard I find something new and at a time when Nature is beginning to awaken again what better excuse did I need?

The present building’s shape dates from the 13th century and in fact the present nave dates from 1270.  It replaces an earlier church.  The north aisle was added in 1320 and the chancel south aisle and tower around 1450.  There have been many later alterations but the basic 15th century structure and style remains.  In 1995 excavations took place to create more meeting rooms in what may have been the crypt.  The interior of the church has some monuments dedicated to prominent local families.

But it’s the churchyard that fascinated me.  Intertwined with plain Victorian headstones are some wonderful examples of 18th century tombstones adorned with memento mori.  A couple are naively executed but others are finely carved with the wonderful 18th century calligraphy accompanying them.

The Spring sunlight illuminated the thick patches of moss and lichens that had carefully draped itself over the monuments and memorials.  It made the subtle hues and shades really stand out; the combination of green and gold or browns seemed to gleam amongst more subtle hints.

Some of the lichens looked as if someone had taken a paintbrush loaded with colour and then dabbed it onto the stones.  Moss has the effect of softening the edges of stones and letters and, where it replaces letters completely, gives a more organic feel to the epitaph.

A spreading horse chestnut tree was laden with sticky buds already beginning to burst into leaf. ‘How many years has it stood near the church door marking the seasons and years?’ I thought.

The spreading horse chestnut is now into full leaf burst.
©Carole Tyrrell

A chaffinch called loudly for its mate from the closed part of the churchyard.  I had explored this in October and seen its large carpet of prickly sweet chestnuts as a fox had turned tail and run back to where it had come from.  There has been a piece of bone abandoned on top of a flat headstone and I hoped that the fox had brought it in from a nearby butchers rubbish bin…….now alas this part of the churchyard is closed due to Health and Safety as it’s so overgrown.  On this visit I disturbed a fluffy ginger and white cat who soon fled in the same direction as the fox.

The closed part of the churchyard.
©Carole Tyrrell

Three large patches of snowdrops clustered protectively around the base of a tree, their pristine heads nodding in the breeze as if deep in conversation.  Primroses had begun to stud the grass and I saw my first ever cowslip amid headstones.

The tiny bright blue flowers of Speedwell blossomed beside a small tombstone and a red-tailed bee, one of the first signs of Spring, buzzed along the top of the grass.    Dog violets, a much underrated flowers in my opinion, frothed plentifully beside the iron entrance gate.

 

Nearby, was not so much a carpet of Spring flowers, but more of a small rug of them.  More Primroses, the bright yellow of Lesser Celandine, another harbinger of Spring, and more dog violets all combined to make a wonderful collection of green, yellow and purple.

There are some remarkable epitaphs in St Nicholas churchyard and this one which has now been incorporated into the fabric of the church caught my attention.

The epitaph reads:

To the Memory

of John Braithwaite Chief Coachman

to his Grace Lionel Duke of Dorset

He died by an unfortunate fall from

Ye coach near Riverhead in this parish.

His loss was greatly lamented

and by none more than

by his Lord and Master

to whom he was a most just and faithful servant

This sad accident happened

on the first day of July in

the year of our Lord 1723

 

 

 

With the Caring for God’s Acre project which is linked with the bio diversity recording site, irecord, biodiversity within cemeteries is being examined more closely. They are real havens for wildlife especially in big cities as they are an invaluable green space that’s accessible to everyone.  I’ve always enjoyed exploring cemeteries partly for this reason whether it be standing waist high in wild flowers on a hot July day in the meadow at Kensal Green cemetery or counting butterflies along the side paths leading to the Courtoy Mausoleum in Brompton Cemetery.

Sadly the Spring sunshine was replaced by April showers but Mother Nature ignored this and kept bursting forth regardless.  I’m already looking forward to my summer saunter within St Nicholas.

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell

References and further reading

https://www.sevenoakssociety.co.uk/upper-high-street-west/255-st-nicholas-church

https://www.stnicholas-sevenoaks.org/

Part 2: Betty, Jean, Gunner William, Jessica and a German POW – a return visit to Netherne Hospital Cemetery August 2017.

On By shadowsflyawayIn Cemetery excursionsLeave a comment

 

 

A familiar gap in the trees across field.
©Carole TyrrellThe Victorian iron gates were still in place and seemed to have been cleaned at least as I pushed one open and re-entered Netherne Hospital cemetery.  Someone had thoughtfully hung a wind chime from the other gate.

There had been  blue August skies above me as  I’d plodded up Woodplace Lane again.  The suburbs of Coulsdon and Hooley soon petered out to give way to fields.  I lost my bearings around the newly expanded Netherne on the Hill.   But I retraced my steps and found myself at the entrance of a large ploughed field and saw a gap in the trees on its opposite side.

I began to walk across the field towards it. As I did so 3 or 4 policemen and women walked past the entrance. ‘Yes, we’ve found her, she’s visiting the cemetery, it’s ploughed so no damage to crops otherwise we’d have suggested that she walk around the border.’ said one into his walkie-talkie.  ‘Doesn’t look like a ghoul.’ They walked on and I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted – me a dangerous person?  Obviously the neighbourhood watch had been on duty and I wondered what had been going on at the cemetery.

A defiant purple branch of buddleia stood tall over the wait high wildflowers as a white butterfly fluttered around it. Bright splashes of colour from ragwort, scarlet pimpernel, speedwell, red sorrel and fleabane stood out amongst them.  There were also fresh puffballs and older ones half hidden in the undergrowth.

The birdsong stopped as I stood inside the graveyard and looked around.  It didn’t look as forgotten as it had done in 2007. The cemetery had been cleared but was now rampant again with summer vegetation.  There was now a clear border around it which made it easier to explore. The horse chestnut trees still stood tall with bright shiny conkers here and there beneath them.  At the bottom of the cemetery was a luxuriant bush of ripe elderberries and I looked over the hedgerow to see two horses grazing in a nearby field.

It still seemed incredible that 1350 people were buried here but now the cemetery felt less abandoned. I looked again at the 6 memorials set into the concrete plinth, presumably to preserve them, but at least I now knew why the 7 year old Betty Trotman had been buried there.

In 2010, the developers of the Netherne on the Hill site had claimed in a local newspaper that they had never been approached by any family members of the people buried there.  But in 2013, a Croydon paper reported on the 2 and a half year campaign by two local people, an amateur historian called Adrian Falks and a Ms Wendy Mortimer.  They had both called for the cemetery to be cleared and the graves within it to be maintained.

Ms Mortimer knew that she had a great-aunt, Frances, who had been buried there in 1915 and had been extremely upset when visiting the graveyard in 2008 to find her last resting place to discover how overgrown the site was. She had had to crawl under a fence to actually get inside to find 5 feet high brambles and no memorials.  Ms Mortimer’s great-aunt, Frances, had been an epileptic, which at the time wasn’t properly understood and appropriate treatment didn’t really exist.  Frances had become brain damaged after falling from a wall, presumably during an epileptic fit, and had subsequently been sent to Netherne where she was classed as ‘an idiot’ in the less than PC classification of the time. A photo in the paper shows Ms Mortimer kneeling in the middle of the then cleared cemetery beside flowers in memory of her great aunt. It was a tragic tale of a life ruined which nowadays with the correct medication would have been very different.

As I walked around the edge of the cemetery I could see holes dug by animals, presumably foxes. Again in 2010, it was alleged by another Croydon paper that burrowing animals had dislodged some of the remains buried there and that bone fragments had been found.

Due to the war hospital scheme which displaced the asylum population in order to treat nearly half a million wounded or shell- shocked soldiers, some of which are buried here.  There are also the children of serving soldiers interred there.

I am indebted to Adrian Falks’ research on the soldiers who were buried at both Cane Hill and Netherne Asylums.  However, the names of most of the servicemen remain hidden in closed records.  But here are the stories of two of them who are buried at Netherne.:

In 1914, Gunner William James Carpenter joined the army for a better life.  But he found Army discipline was too tough and  often went AWOL which led to constant disciplining.  William finally deserted just before being sent to France in 1915. But after an argument with his wife he left their Peckham home and vanished for nearly 90 years.  He had died alone in Netherne hospital but it’s unknown how he ended up there.

Until 1962 a German POW, Hermann Albert Schnid, was buried there.  He had contracted syphilis which was treated at the hospital and he’d died there in 1917.   In 1959, the German War Graves Commission wrote to the Netherne authorities requesting that his body be exhumed and moved to the Cannock Chase German military Cemetery in Staffordshire.

Mr Falks also discovered the names of a few of the children of serving soldiers who were buried in the cemetery. He was quoted in a newspaper article as saying that he thought the state of the  cemetery was ‘shocking’ and ‘that all but one of the children buried at Netherne had had fathers who were fighting in the First World War.’

Some of the children are:

Leslie Thomas Jackman aged 11 – died 11/12/1917 – whose father was a serving soldier

William Arthur Simmonds aged 15 died 15/10/1917 – his father was presumed killed at the Battle of Arras.

Sidney Peters aged 5 – died 03/10/1915 – had a soldier father.

Jessica Davis  – aged 11 who died from TB on 20/02/1915.  It’s not known if her soldier father survived the war.

 and these two:

Both of her parents, Dorothya m

William John Newland – aged 15 – died from pulmonary TB on 18/02/1918. I found his case particularly poignant as he was an orphan without next of kin who had been transferred from an Epsom workhouse infirmary. I hoped that someone was with him when he passed away.

Book of Life dedicated to the 7 year old Betty Trotman.
©Carole Tyrrell

 

And finally Betty Trotman, aged 7, recorded on the Book of Life memorial as having died on 31/05/1929 after a 5 month stay in Netherne.  It had been surmised that her parents probably worked at the hospital.   I am indebted to a local resident who had searched for more information on Betty’s family via genesreunited.  Both of her parents, Dorothy and Charles were Londoners and have moved to Godstone in Surrey.  They married in 1921 but it’s not known if Betty had any siblings.  Dorothy died in 1991 aged 90 and Charles preceded her in 1959 aged 65.

 Asylums were often overcrowded and an epidemic such as influenza or TB would soon spread amongst patients.

I haven’t found any photos of these incumbents in Netherne cemetery which is sad as I would have liked to be able to put faces to the stories  I stood there in the hot August sunshine and realised that under the wildflowers were people with names, Jean, William, Betty, Frances, etc who had all ended up in Netherne often because there was nowhere else for them to go. But some of the once anonymous dead had been reclaimed by their relatives and they no longer rested alone and forgotten.

But one of the saddest and most moving stories is undoubtedly that of 8 year old Jean Barboni  who died in Netherne in 1915 and whose nurse mourned him for the rest of his life.

Part 3 – the nurse that never forgot the little boy she cared for and a patient’s remarkable artistic legacy.

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

http://www.mendiphospitalcemetery.org.uk/history.html

 http://www.yourlocalguardian.co.uk/news/10494304.Campaign_victory_after_cemetery_with_war_dead_finally_cleared/

https://billiongraves.com/cemetery/Netherne-Asylum-Cemetery/292853

http://www.simoncornwell.com/urbex/hosp/n/e140106/1.htm

http://www.thisislocallondon.co.uk/indepth/nostalgia/8392020.Forgotten_graves_of_the_war_dead/

http://www.suttonguardian.co.uk/news/8437328.Diaries_of_Catholic_nun_reveal_tale_of_child_buried_at_Netherne_asylum/

 http://beyondthetrenches.co.uk/the-other-war-dead-asylum-patients-during-the-first-world-war/

 http://www.croydonguardian.co.uk/news/8421298.Developer_s_broken_promise_over_asylum_cemetery/

 https://www.genesreunited.co.uk/boards/board/ancestors/thread/1314646